Chapter 2: New Faces, New Places
"Dropping out of FTL, Commander," Joker reported, glancing over his shoulder at Shepard.
"Bring us into orbit over the colony, we'll take a shuttle down," Shepard replied, then looked at the small holo-plate, "EDI, are Miranda and Jacob ready?"
A hologram shaped vaguely like a lightbulb popped up, "Operatives Lawson and Taylor are waiting by the shuttle, both are currently wearing the requested alternative attire."
Shepard felt apprehensive for a moment, Miranda really didn't like not being in charge, so was concerned that the biotic would twist her orders, but dismissed it, Miranda was too professional. She took one last look at the planet and walked into the main CIC, into the lift and punched the button for her cabin.
Twenty minutes later she was in the lift heading to the cargo hold, one her back was an M-8 Avenger assault rifle and a M-92 Mantis, on her left hip was an M-3 Predator and an M-4 Shuriken on her right and an M-23 on the small of her back.
She spotted Jacob and Miranda as the Lift doors opened, Jacob was inspecting an M-23 and wore his old Onyx light armour, She sighed as she saw Miranda. Miranda was wearing an Ursa Light suit that showed off her figure, 'Probably a size too small' she thought, with an M-4 on her left hip and an M-3 on her right. Neither were wearing helmets.
"Ready to go, Commander," Jacob said, spotting Shepard and holstering his shotgun.
"Ready Commander," Miranda said coolly.
"Ok, into shuttle, we'll head down and make discrete inquiries," the two nodded and climbed into the Kodiak, which Jacob had quickly had repainted to hide the Cerberus markings, the hatch closed as Shepard stepped aboard and the engines ignited, the ventral thrusters fired as the cargo bay door opened, lifting the boxy craft off the deck, the aft thrusters fired and pushed the craft out and into space.
"… Sinclair! Why Did You Leave Me Here? Sinclair! Sinclair!?"
"…I know the Godless Fire that burns in his heart. I've been burned by it too…"
"… My History isn't about Revenge or hate. The Road that brought us here – Isn't about that. It's about the Message you carried. The one in that package, whether you knew it or not…"
"…This is Three Dog, AAOOOWWW! And You're listening to Galaxy News Radio… Bringing you the Truth! No matter how bad it hurts…"
"…Get up without my permission and I'll blast your arse so far through your head, it'll turn the moon cherry red…"
"…Better be a shaped charge, or you won't live to see it…"
"…My God… it's you! The wee baby boy all grown up…"
"…There is a saying in the Wasteland; Old World Blues – It refers to those so obsessed with the past, they can't see the present, much less the future, for what it is…"
"… You see that you and I are of a different stripe, don't you? We don't have to Dream we are important, We Are…"
"… Today's weather will be slightly cloudy with a good chance of Artillery Fire…"
"…Finding it though, that's not the hard part. It's letting go…"
"…I'm Sorry. You're a Hero, but… You have to leave…"
"Orion Black?"
The former Courier opened his eyes as he was pulled from his memories, he twisted slightly in his seat, his right hand leaving his scotch glass to rest on his thigh, just above his CR-2.
Standing behind him was a 5' 11 woman with fiery red hair and emerald eyes wearing the N7 variant of Alliance Onyx Armour, with each mount sporting a weapon. Behind her was an African-American man wearing an older infantry issue Onyx armour with a shotgun and sidearm, and an ivory skinned women with long brown, wavy hair, pale blue eyes, standing roughly 5' 5 in light Ursa armour.
Running his eyes over all three he recognised their potential combat roles from their gear and the odd energy his eye could just make out radiating faintly from the redhead and more noticeably from the man and brunette, 'A Soldier, Vanguard and a Sentinel, wonder who I pissed off in a past life,' he thought before he recognised the red head.
"That's me," he said, carefully watching the Soldier, "And you, look like Commander Shepard, one ghost to another, you look pretty healthy for a corpse," he gestured to the stool next to him and turned back to the bar.
Shepard and Jacob blinked in surprise as Miranda's eyes widened, Shepard sent the two a look then settled onto the offered stool.
"Modern medicine can do wonders," Shepard replied.
"Being too stubborn to die helps," Black retorted, taking a sip from his glass.
Shepard cocked an eyebrow, "speaking from experience?"
"I don't know how many times I've lived when I shouldn't have, hell, once I was hogtied and shot in the head twice at five feet," Black admitted, "dug up from a shallow grave and was walking the Long 15 five days later."
Shepard stared in disbelief, her head was screaming bullshit, but his body language indicated he was telling the truth, if anything he was being modest, "I guess there's some truth to that."
"More than you know," Black murmured so low only Miranda caught it, "So, what brings you looking for an Old World Ghost like me?" he asked.
"I'm putting a Team together for a difficult, some would say suicidal, Mission," Shepard answered, curious why he called himself and her ghosts, "you're on my list."
Black looked at her, "Me? Or my technology?"
Shepard and, though she didn't see it, Miranda flinched, "That obvious?"
"No shit, Sherlock," Black muttered sarcastically, "The Alliance is only just sorting out the rescued slaves, hearing stories of a massive armoured soldier killing slavers with Energy Weapons. What do you think?"
Shepard grimaced but carried on, "Both really, even if we could acquire your technology, you're the only person who understands it right now."
"Give me the details and I'll consider it," Black said, "but I reserve the right to refuse."
"Fair enough," Shepard agreed, "Several independent Human colonies have been attacked, no evidence of weapons fire, injuries, everyone… just gone, no evidence anything is wrong besides the missing people."
"But you found something?" Black deduced.
"A Quarian was on Freedom's Progress, the measure the attackers used seems tailored to humans, or perhaps they were only expecting humans so didn't check for anyone else, that Quarian succeeded in hiding and captured the attackers on a security feed. They're a race known as the Collectors," Shepard explained, "They seem to use a form of miniature probe to paralyse their victims."
"Isn't the Alliance doing something?" Black asked.
"Not that I can see," Shepard admitted bitterly, "but they have begun an outreach program to the outer colonies, it might be a cover for an investigation or fortifications."
Black stared into his whiskey thoughtfully, "And what's Your plan, Shepard?" his eyes, eyes that spoke of outliving horrors beyond her worst nightmares, seemed to bore into her soul.
"I'm building a team in order to strike back," Shepard answered firmly, them her face fell, "The Alliance left me for dead, I've had to accept support from… a less desirable Sponsor."
Black gave her a look as Miranda cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Let me guess, your corpse was recovered by a controversial and/or extremist group who bankrupted themselves bringing you back? And then dropped a bombshell in your lap so you couldn't just wash your hands of them?"
Shepard nodded grimly as Jacob stared in disbelief, only Black catching Miranda's jaw drop.
"Do you have a target?" Black asked after Miranda composed herself, "I've done my share of One Way Trips, but they've always had a clear objective."
"The Collectors originate from the Omega 4 Relay," Shepard replied.
"Isn't that a dead end?" Black asked curiously.
"The Collectors somehow can safely pass," Shepard replied, "An advanced IFF maybe?"
"Maybe," Black mused, "But why? Debris field or other hazard on the other side as trap? With the only way to avoid it is an advanced transit programme tuned to the IFF?"
"Most likely," Shepard agreed, "Either that or some nasty defences."
"So how exactly do you plan to get past?" to her credit Shepard held the former Pitt Fighter's gaze.
"By sneaking past on the most advanced stealth ship in existence," Shepard replied proudly.
Black looked at her thoughtfully, then drained his glass.
"If I join," he began after a moment, "There has to be an Official Alliance presence, doesn't matter if it's only one man, but there must be one. I've been shafted by too many 'under-the-table' ops before to consider joining one without insurance."
Shepard stared as Miranda and Jacob shared a shocked look.
"That might not be possible," Shepard said slowly, "My sponsor is basically Persona Non Grata to the Alliance."
"And does anyone know?" Black retorted, "As long as you don't fly around with their flag on the hull, who'd be any the wiser?"
Shepard looked at Miranda nervously, who was looking at her toes embarrassedly. Now she thought about it, it was pretty stupid to fly a ship with Cerberus markings proudly displayed through the heart of the territories of several governments hostile to them.
"Lawson, before we leave, arrange for a few hundred gallons of paint to be delivered," Shepard whispered, the Aussie nodded, ashamed of her glaring mistake.
"Black and white," she added before turning back to Black.
"Something wrong?" he asked, amusement light on his voice.
"We may have overlooked something when we left spacedock," Shepard admitted.
"A coat of paint can hide a multitude of sins," Black said sagely, earning a faint blush from Miranda and making Shepard and Jacob shake their heads.
"As I said, it might not be possible," Shepard said, getting back on track, "but I'll try."
"For now, that's all I'll ask," he replied, "but I'll head my own way if nothing is done." Shepard accepted the warning.
"Fair enough," she said, shaking the merc's hand, "do you need to wrap anything up or can you leave now?"
"I've said my goodbyes," Black replied, "Though they think I'm heading to Earth."
"Then I guess we should head back to the shuttle," Shepard said, standing up.
"You know the way."
"Welcome to the Normandy," Black was looking round at the walls in interest, not responding to Jacob for several moments.
"Not the largest ship I've been on, or most impressive, but certainly cleaner, more homely," Shepard didn't know whether to be insulted or complimented.
"There's a strict Chain of Command on this vessel, obey any given orders and there'll be no problems," Miranda stated, ignoring the cold look from Black that sent shivers down Jacob's spine and left Shepard uncomfortable.
"My deal is with Shepard, I'll only listen to Her orders, don't get any ideas Cheerleader."
"We've got one more stop before we head for the Citadel, and my meeting with the Councillor," Shepard explained, "Then I'll find out if the Alliance can send someone."
"That's all I can ask for now," Black shrugged, "Where shall I set up? I have a surprising amount of gear and I'll need a couple of workbenches."
"There is space in the starboard cargo bay on Deck 4 which would suit your needs, Mr Black," replied a synthesised female voice, the avatar popping up in the centre of the table made Shepard face palm.
"An AI?" Black asked, "Or a very well programmed VI?"
Jacob and Shepard looked surprised he wasn't immediately hostile or at least wary of EDI, "EDI is a fully sentient AI."
Shepard's surprise was doubled by Black's response, "I thought the tech wasn't available to produce a stable AI?"
Shepard and Jacob shared a glance, the question hadn't actually come up before, but Miranda scoffed, "Cerberus has access to resources other organisations can only dream of," she replied haughtily, "Though I doubt you'd appreciate that."
Shepard sent a warning glare to the brunette, but Black's had Miranda's attention, "I have a very good idea of the resources necessary, cheerleader," he stepped closer, right into her face, her nose wrinkled as the smell and even burn of spent cordite assaulted her senses, "I've worked with technologies you can't possibly understand, held Wonders of the Old World that make your weapons look like plastic toys, I've done things, been places beyond your wildest dreams," he then stepped back and started to walk away, "Go home to Daddy, Little Girl, I'm too old to babysit," he then turned his back on her, missing her body shaking and the angry biotic aura surrounding her, "If you want me I'll be down below," he said to Shepard and started to walk out of the room.
Suddenly a biotic orb shot across the room and slammed in Orion's back, sending him flying. He struck the frame of the open door across his shoulders; his body twisted in the air then struck the bulkhead opposite with a sickening crunch and fell awkwardly into a heap.
Miranda stared in horror, the satisfying rush that had calmed her uncontrollable fury vanished as her mind processed what she'd just done, she distantly heard Shepard bellow at her but could only focus on the body of the man in front of her, until a biotic field trapped her body, lifting her into the air and spreading her arms and legs like the Vitruvian man.
"MIRANDA LAWSON!" Shepard bellowed, lifting the Cerberus Loyalist off the deck and fully preparing to send the Bitch through the bulkhead, blinked as a bright blue teardrop shot across the room with a synthesized whoosh sound, passing below the junction of the brunettes legs by inches, though it would have been on course for the woman's stomach were she still standing on the deck, and passing through the rear bulkhead like it was paper, which with Miranda's scream made her drop the brunette in surprise.
There was a sickening metallic screech and the ship lurched violently, throwing Jacob into the hall and Shepard across the table, another scream from Miranda made Shepard look up, to find the brunette clutching the back of her head and an angry red edged hole in the bulkhead.
The lights failed, sending the room into darkness before the red emergency lights came on.
"Fuck!" Shepard twisted her body to look at the owner of the voice, Orion was propped up on his left arm, his right holding a strange angular rifle with a rectangular muzzle and a foot long chamber made of a ribbed transparent crystal, which contained a swirling energy cloud that glowed blue, the light of which mixed with the red emergency lights to illuminate him and Jacob in a violet glow, both were glancing nervously at the walls and ceiling.
"Joker to Shepard! Commander pick up the phone!"
Shepard hit the comm bud in her ear and opened a channel, "I'm here Joker, what happened?"
"Something as hot as a sun struck the Drive Core's casing, we were milliseconds from a breach before EDI pulled the plug, we're virtually drifting in space."
"I analysed the sensor logs and calculated the trajectory and concluded it came from the comm room, however I was unable to determine the cause as the sensors in the comm room are malfunctioning," EDI added.
"Malfunctioning?" Shepard asked.
"That would be me, machines have a hard time getting a read on me after one of my augmentations, and an involuntary one at that," Orion explained uncomfortably, avoiding incredulous looks from Jacob and a partially recovered Miranda.
"Estimate on repairs?" Shepard asked, sending Orion a look that said she was going to ask later.
"Eight hours at least, good thing we were already in the same system as our target," Joker replied, "At least four hours at sublights, they should be safe to use in thirty minutes."
"Confirmed, call me when it's done," Shepard said.
"Aye Aye, Commander," Joker replied.
Shepard glared at Black, "Care to explain?"
"I was attacked; I returned fire," Black answered bluntly, "not my fault if your ship builders can't build a ship able to withstand energy weapons."
"Actually, it is," Jacob commented, "The hull and internal spaces are made using a high density…"
"Density is irrelevant, it's sheer Mass that protects you," Black snapped.
"That's a load of crap," Miranda muttered, not quite recovered from the shock and wincing from the pain in some very delicate places, she needed to see Chakwas.
"Evidence to the contrary right behind you," Black retorted.
Shepard grimaced as Miranda slowly turned to look at the glowing hole before turning back to stare in disbelief at Black.
"Jacob, show Black to his new quarters, Miranda, get to Chakwas…"
"I-I… I think I need help," Miranda replied softly, very obviously in pain as she tried to stand up.
"Go," was all Shepard said to the two males as she went to help Miranda, they took the hint and left.
Seven hours later, Shepard left the Elevator and turned left to the Starboard Cargo Bay, she stopped in surprise when the door didn't automatically open.
"EDI, is something wrong with this door?" Shepard asked.
"Not that I am aware of, Commander. However, Manual activation protocols are engage, if the door doesn't open after trying the manual interface, I suggest knocking."
Shepard briefly wondered if EDI was joking, but remembered Joker's complaint regarding her sense of humour… or lack thereof.
Shepard raised her hand and knocked, deciding to just get on with it.
The door opened to reveal an energy field unlike any kinetic barrier she'd ever seen before, which deactivated a second later.
"Shepard, I wondered when you'd come round," Shepard didn't reply, instead taking in the multitude of possessions she would have sworn Black could not have carried.
There were three stands holding two suits of bulky, plated armour:
The first two were identical, both looking primitive, with exposed servos, large thickly insulated wires and hydraulic lines and small compared to the others, only differing in their markings: the first having a Lion Rampant in a white circle with a winged sword beneath it with the wings reaching around the circle in blue. The second had white five pointed star in a blue circle with a red line running underneath and out both sides on the shoulder pads and a circle of thirteen stars around a single large star on the upper chest.
The next two were significantly more advanced in terms of the plating and there were no obvious signs of servos, wires or hydraulics, they did have ridiculously large curved shoulder pads as opposed to the earlier type's long straight ones. Again the difference appeared to be the paint scheme, the left one steel grey with a green chest plate and brown ballistic cloth, and the right being steel grey and white camouflage.
It was the next pair that really drew her attention. The first was dark grey with a black under suit, it was angular and heavily stylised, in the right lighting it would look almost demonic, there were two sets of pauldrons, the first (on the armour but clearly new) were partial hemispheres contoured to fit the shoulder, the second (sitting on the stand next to a helmet with wicked amber eyes that resembled a wolf's head) were vertical, shaped vaguely like a skate or ray and curved into a half cylinder of sorts. The helmet combined elements of both the 'Wolf's Head' and the Winter Armour's helmet.
The second was similar to the last, except it had swamp green plating. There was a back pack of two large framed cylinders that seemed to be a type of miniaturised Fusion Reactor. The pauldrons looked like the new type on the black armour but were, apparently, original, there were a number of bulb like objects arranged across the pauldrons and down the body connected by wires that even now slightly glowed with energy.
The next stands held four suits of armour with a fifth hanging on a coat hanger.
The first was a brown trenchcoat over moulded black ballistic armour with LAPD stamped on the right breast. Shepard recognised it as both the armour Black wore in the video and when they met, minus the enclosed helmet.
The second was a dark grey suit with white stripes running down the sides, a white chest/back plate and knee pads, black gloves and black boots.
The third was a shamrock green armour and helmet with fatigues the same colour, on the left side under the collar were the words Reilly's Rangers and on the right breast were two crossed sabres of a four leaf clover.
The fourth suit was a worn full torso stab proof vest with ballistic reinforcement over a reinforced blue leather jump suit with yellow marking, black gloves, black boots and a black riot helmet with plexiglass visor.
The last was a very used jumpsuit like the last but with amateur armour reinforcements.
Shepard's gaze moved on to the next rack, which held a mix of strange weapons, from the rifle Black crippled the ship with, to long boxy rifles, to what looked like an old fashioned Gauss weapon and a strange weapon with a transparent green muzzle and another next to it with three stubby green barrels.
The next rack held a collection of honest to God firearms with a bench holding magazines and ammunition on one side and a workbench holding a partially disassembled example one of the rifles and a disassembled M-96 Mattock.
At the wall facing the bow furthest from the door was the bed, to its left, her right, was another set of racks holding what could only be described as light (and some perhaps not so light) artillery.
The next bench held numerous yellow and red cylinders as well as what looked like clips of three old AA batteries welded together in neat (relatively) piles as well as two other devices, one of which resembled a 19th century ammo pouch, the other a large satchel, both containing some strange technology that was plugged into a yellow cylinder each.
"Quite the collection," Shepard commented, both seriously confused and impressed that he could apparently carry all this.
"A decade's worth of memories are held in most of these pieces," Black admitted.
"All this, in just one decade?" Shepard asked in amazement, stepping over to examine the winterised armour.
Black watched her for a moment, deep in thought, "Shepard, what do you really think of me? Where I come from?"
Shepard stopped, thinking of how to say it, "I'm not sure," she admitted after a moment, "There's no paper trail before New Berlin, my Sponsor suggested you could have slipped through the cracks in the slums, it does happen, but that doesn't explain your technology… You certainly didn't just find it, you're obviously intimately familiar with the mechanics at least, if not the science."
She shook her head in disbelief, "There's only one reasonable explanation, but… but it's crazy! …Impossible… I may as well be locked in a rubber room like the Council wants for thinking it!"
"When you have eliminated the Impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," Black quoted.
"Arthur Conan Doyle," Shepard replied, smiling as she recognised the quote, she turned to look at the enigma beside her, "My conclusion is that you are from another time, reality, or both."
To her surprise, Black nodded, "I came to the same conclusion, I have a theory as to how, but the why is beyond me."
"And what's your theory?" Shepard asked.
"There was a malfunction with the Teleport device I was using," Black shrugged, "Yes, Teleporters are possible, but I myself don't understand the science. It was a point-to-point system, not unlike Primary Mass Relays, where you'd be sent to one of two beacons if you activated a handheld transponder in range of either beacon, being sent to the respective other. I don't know if the fault was with the transponder, the beacons or the fixed unit itself, but somehow it sent me to New Berlin."
"Sit down, I'll give you a short version of my life, it'll help you understand," Black suggested, indicated a crate as he settled on the bed, Shepard sat down and waited for him to start. She be able to judge from his behaviour if he was telling the truth, at least as he knew it, or if he was a talented actor.
"I was born in Washington DC, under the Jefferson Memorial, on July 13th 2258, my parents were James and Catherine Black, a married couple working as Scientist on Project Purity…"