Note: English is not my native language so mistakes will happen. Read, and in the case you enjoyed, and have not forgotten entirely about this story (and if you have, know that I'm not blaming you a single microscopic little bit), review.
Segment II ~ Rough Seas
*ch11.
Garrus felt like making a hole through the panel before him by any creative means necessary would be the most progressive thing he had done for this day. He was a simple turian so a fist would do. He went over it in his head, again.
Every time he thought he did the calculation just right – no, he knew he had done it right – the number would end up being off by a margin someone of his calibrating capabilities, no small modesty here, would never make. At some point he grabbed the support rails and squeezed, leaving light scratch marks. He sighed, shook his head, and grumbled something about Cerberus engineers. He wasn't doing anything here, for some reason, and left the battery.
Further down on the crew deck and sitting at the table he saw, Zach he believed his name was, going through three screens at the time at rapid pace. When he approached the engineer dug his fingers through his hair and pulled with a frustrated growl and then dug the balls of his palms in his eyes.
"Did the extranet poker arcade go off the grid or was the appointment with Sha'ira rescheduled?" Garrus quipped not a little bit curious at what got the human in such a tight ball of frustration.
"I wish it had," Zach said through teeth clenched tight. "At least then I'd know I'd get to meet her eventually and not be stuck here for the rest of the eternity doing these stupid calculations over and over again." He paused, rubbed his forehead and looked at Garrus tiredly. "I can't get the shuttle up and running. The Hammerhead started acting up a day ago, and now I'm locked out of some minor systems in the shuttle bay."
Oh, someone else with a problem? His assessment of Cerberus' shipbuilding team's abilities being so flimsy the krogan would do better at tearing it down then rebuilding it from rubble, was correct. And it was worth to mention that they still had the collectors hanging around their collective necks. Of course there would be problems. "Do the vehicles have some kind of mechanical problem? Because if so, we're going to have a problem getting anywhere."
The engineer shook his head, "Everything is in working condition but every time I start it up, it powers down, on its own and without any input from me." He tensed his shoulders and turned his face back to the multiple screens, combing again through each one with quick wrist movements, "I've combed through every part of it, EDI says there is no permanent impairment to the systems… And I have no idea what to try next. Hell, I don't even know what happened in the first place."
"When did it start?" Garrus asked now feeling a bit of stress transferring over from human to him.
"On the ship? Maybe a day ago. But the shuttle has been acting up since the Commander came back up from Neith."
"The planet where ship full of faulty mechs crashed?" Garrus rumbled, half inquiry, half 'it's obvious' drawl.
The man's eyes opened very, very widely. "You don't mean- No way EDI would let something like that slip past her!" But he was already up on his feet and rushing to the AI core.
*/*/*/*/*
The beat was heavy and the flashing lights of many colors danced across the faces of the patrons. A quiet family gathering place during the day, Club Eternity turned into blue vixen wearing neon tattoos instead of panties parlor. Usually, Sofia avoided places like this with fervor. It tended to dig out memories which had no business walking around painted in undead colors.
As she observed she noticed that Matriarch of dubious pedigree was not behind the bar and not anywhere in sight or biotic blast for that matter. Which was curious considering the type of crowd night attracted and a heavy hand of lordship it might require.
It wasn't uncommon for armored individuals who stalked the streets, to stalk the bars as well. Violence was the trade of many on Illium. So it happened that Shepard didn't draw stares because she had armor and weapons strapped to her hips; Shepard exuded presence to equal intoxication about at 4am. And despite that, no one had approached her at the bar where she sat with a glass still painfully full.
In all honesty this made things by far simpler for her for she would have preferred not to waste time with rebutting advances of the local patrons, most of whom were asari, whilst waiting for her date. She also hopped she would not leave her hanging, especially when she had gone to trouble to even arrange a date for the first time in great many years.
Still, she was being watched, by eyes hungry for more than meager conversation over drinks.
She watched the asari Matriarch occasionally work the rag over the bar in between serving a drink or one of her opinions. A rag. In this day and age. But without much exaggeration, Sofia often felt like a rag – smoothing over the filth others have spilled. In other words, she was indispensable. Filthy, but damn if the existence didn't need her.
Bringing her eyes up she spotted Gianna walking in, and her her figure, ah so well trained into blending in, immediately glided over to the free stool next to one Shepard was occupying.
"This is some exclusive place to have a beer."
"Only the best when I work," Shepard raised her palms dismissively.
"Don't you mean when you're on break?"
"Miss Parasini, the greatest human of galactic history is never 'on break'."
"Wow. How modest of you."
"No. It's how honest of me," Sofia grinned and laughed. "But truly – bubblegum pink?"
"It doesn't stand out any more than an armor painted with a red dragon on it," Gianna took one right back at her. "I don't need my targets to have one look at me and think danger."
Shepard rubbed her chin whilst pondering that. That being the sheer amount of danger and destruction she was visibly loaded with. True, she had that awfully comfortably elegant black uniform back on the ship but it somehow didn't feel right to wear all of Cerberus glory stitched to every inch of her. People were shooting at her enough as it was. But something more appropriate would have probably been better. Like something that had no gun of hers visibly immediately. Well, as she was on Illium she might as well indulge herself a little. Later.
"Now, this little job-of-sorts that I would have you do…"
"I read the message. You want me to find a knife?"
"Not any knife. A combat knife."
"Are you even aware how many of those there are?"
"Not many from early 20th century Earth, first Great War era to be precise – I can tell you with grave certainty. It is in exceptionally well kept condition – it has to be to cut through flesh."
"Excuse me?" Prasini lowered the glass she was holding close to her lips. No one said anything about flesh cutting.
"Trifles," Commander Shepard smoothed over it instantly. "In this regard what I need of you is- Miss Prasini, your attention please."
"You got it, just… isn't that your ship flying away?" Gianna asked gesturing over Shepard's shoulder at the smooth-looking ship with Cerberus' black and yellow symbol pasted on its side gliding away between Illium's skyscrapers. Sofia let out a small questioning hum before her head whipped to the side just in time to see Normandy SR-2 elegantly accelerate towards higher atmosphere. In a flash she was on her feet, vaulted over nearby occupying table and, pointedly ignoring half-krogan Matriarch's disapproving gaze, skirted out into the narrow terrace.
She arrived just in time to have a clear look at Normandy's taillights disappearing into the sunset, and for a moment she could only stand there with her mouth hanging open.
"D- did-" she stuttered even! Sofia Shepard never did stutter. "Did my ship just leave her captain marooned on a hostile planet?" A moment passed with the first human Spectre just standing there, mouth hanging open and childlike expression on her face. It was a sight for any passerby, even if they didn't know who she was. A thing or two clicked and connected in her mind the way they would never in someone of more stable persuasion; and then she was screaming.
"Oh yes! Freedom is a sweet, sweet intoxicating aphrodisiac of old!" She whirled about eagerness permeating her every movement and thought of all the little things she could do now. Maybe even drag out her search for Billy.
Merrily she, almost- Ah! Who was going to see her anyway? – She skipped along while whistling a tune back inside, again ignoring Matriarch's now sizzling glare. She sat back on her seat next to Gianna, who wore a very puzzled and very amused look, and very unsettling look at the toothy green the Commander was now spotting. Sofia cleared her throat with a small cough and put on her 'business' face of seriousness.
"Now, we were discussing a very serious matter of you experiencing the thrill of a wasted opportunity."
*/*/*/*/*
Sofia skipped a step as she glided down the streets while making his way to the lower levels of Illium. Gianna would do her part, both to repay her debt – twice now, and out of curiosity. Of course, there was a danger of premature death but it all fell into the category of thrill seeking, no?
"No…" she halted with a whimpering wale. Heels acting as breaks when she saw a familiar figure of perfect poise and such calmness that made the people on the street go around him and not be aware of it. His solemn figure stood out particularly well in that 'won't see him coming until he strikes'. It didn't make her appreciate him anymore. In fact, the opposite was true. He was hoarding more kills on the efficient and elegant level than she ever had. Silently, she resented that.
Sofia had to take a deep breath. Of the calming sort, when facing battles of futility. Her freedom was short-lived.
"Mr. Krios," she started with a smile that could cut biotic barriers, "Such an utterly unexpected occurrence to see you here. On the planet. And decidedly not on the ship. Why?" The last word dripped with acidic ooze.
Thane seemed utterly unperturbed by every next word in line slowly taking over the shape of daggers and torture devices of ages past. "Officer Lawson believed it prudent not to leave you to your own devices while EDI deals with the cold." The last word twisted a little with a small smile that appeared as he spoke.
Of course Officer Miranda Lawson would. She has every file possible on her, and she saw yeoman Chambers leaving her office more than once, and with her clothes still intact so it couldn't have been a social meeting. The control chip may be out of the question but a little supervision would hardly hurt anyone. Except cut short all those sweet little moments that belonged to her alone. Shepard's eyes narrowed in furious contemplation. The very next time the opportunity presents itself she was going to lock Jack, Miranda and a box of classified Cerberus files in one room and leave them over night to stew. And after that she will have Kelly high on chocolate and rum and throw her in as well, let them cook for another night; then present Dr. Chakwas with a new set of surgical tools to sort out the pieces-
Her thoughts took a sudden sharp turn. "EDI has a cold?"
That smile didn't disappear. If possible, it grew larger by a fraction.
"A minor problem with a virus. EDI is certain that she can fully take care of it but had advised to purge the source of its origin. Or that is how she had chosen to explain it."
*/*/*/*/*
The ship shook a bit. Shuddered actually. It wasn't noticeable, and certainly not something completely out of the ordinary – but it shook at times when it wasn't supposed to. And Joker could feel it.
"Usually, in situations like this it is recommended to lay still and have some rest."
"Such thing is hardly applicable to me Mr. Morro."
"Well, we wouldn't be shaking as much if we just stayed at the docks and wait until you purged your system."
"This is not a hacking attempt. The VI is not complex enough to permanently damage any of my process. It is simply-"
"Making a nuisance of itself. Got it."
"That is one way of putting it. I'd like to examine the original code to better expel it. The code could also be modified to be used against other ships in cyber-warfare."
"Hey, wouldn't it be great if we could just spread the infection to the Collectors' ship? Taken down by a common cold! Sounds like something from 20th century fiction."
"There is no guarantee that they would experience the same… anomalies as I have," the AI sounded genuinely annoyed at the situation she was experiencing. It made Joker chuckle – but only a bit. "Furthermore, testing should prove if the code can be usable in such manner at all."
"Right. Get to the factory, get the AI equivalent of pneumonia, spread the love," Joker merrily cited. In the background there was something that suspiciously resembled a sigh.
*/*/*/*/*
Shepard's bewilderment was only slightly smaller than her joy. As she found amusement in the strangest of things, and sometimes the deadliest, the prospect of ship's AI having an equivalent of a cold was… golden. Her fingers danced across her face hiding her ever-widening smile.
"Now you made me wish I was there to see it."
"EDI is already perturbed enough that the crew had found out about it."
"A minor malfunctioning VI is causing her to glitch. Perturbed is a rather gentle word there you have chosen to use." She looked at him with eyes narrowed. "I assume, correctly, you are not here on your own," she gestured.
"Zaeed Massani came as well," the drell answered evenly.
No, it wouldn't be Kasumi. Or Jacob. Or anyone else halfway to stability and sane mind.
"It could be no other way, naturally. The assassin and the bounty hunter. There is a sensation I simply cannot shake that I am to star in a book of intergalactic misadventures." Who else would be inane enough to follow the one, crazy, Commander Shepard on an outing they knew nothing about. Not a word she spoken later the bounty hunter made his appearance, swagger and confidence, and neither boasted beyond raw truth of his abilities and survival rate. He looked down at Shepard, who was smaller than him by a head at least, held her eyes for a short moment and then proceeded to light a cigarette.
"So, who're we killing today?"
"Killing, Sir Massani? Do you take me to be that much of a common murderer?" Which she was. "I have obligations, duties towards local law enforcement and the safety of indigenous population. Killing? How is that even an option here when lives are at stake?" She started but immediately and without missing a heartbeat into innocence and puzzlement.
Zaeed nodded, "Must be one unfortunate bastard then."
Sofia felt some of her muscles spasm. In this universe there were people who simply could not be fooled by anything - not that she was trying particularly hard, her day was successfully ruined and she wasn't above pettiness of in turn ruining someone else's. The reason behind that was usually experience on a god given level. Zaeed Massani was one of those men who walked through life with a bullet in his head, taunting the creation to try and do him a worse one. The fact that this completely improbable but true situation trumped her own miraculous resurrection – he, after all, received a bullet to his head and survived - was just an icing on a bitter cake that ate at her ego.
"Why are, pray tell, you even here?" She asked with rarely used clarity.
He let out a thick puff of smoke that shrouded the upper part of his face in a mist, "Because the chick in a black cat-suit said so."
"Miranda gives the order and you feel happily obliged to act on her behalf as the nursemaid of the Commander Shepard?"
Zaeed shrugged, "It pays the bills."
Pays the- Sofia huffed internally. Did he even have any bills to pay? Beyond the one that was important to him, she knew, but she was not about to taunt him with that one card up her sleeve.
"I'm afraid she was being quite insistent," Thane nodded almost apologetically. Almost. Sofia was suspicious that he might have been gleaning some sort of amusement form this situation, conversation and her reactions, but she could not say so for sure. She had yet to penetrate the depths that he was made out of that would allow her to predict his behavior successfully and to a level she could make use of.
In turn, she glanced at Zaeed. This suicide mission didn't need all to survive. Some drama is always good motivation for the crew and a death of a capable crewmate can be just a thing to steer the rest in the direction she wanted. Her red and violet cybernetic eyes slid over to drell assassin. Or two deaths. Heavens know that her ego had always had the trouble of tolerating murderers in her vicinity who did a better job of killing than her.
"Is that so?" Someone was very obviously regretting never installing that control chip. She made up her mind as the new plan begun to take shape between the creases of her brain, "Might as well use what I can the best way I know I can." She made a wide gesture with her arm at the streets of Illium spreading around them, "Let's set the tents and tell the people that the circus is back in town. I have set the stage for a show and I intend to make it grandiose."
*/*/*/*/*