REQUIEM
CHAPTER FIVE:
HUNTER
October 13, 2185
1231 hours.
Docking Station 9, Shalta Docks, Shalta Wards, The Citadel.
Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Councilor David Edward Anderson.
Anderson watched Marcus as the commander lead him through the C-Sec Academy and into the elevator, the glass door behind them quickly shutting and the elevator ascending up to the place the new Normandy was docked at. As it ascended, the human councilor drowned out the news reports playing over the speakers to turn to Marcus, "So Shepard, how was the battle against the collectors? You didn't report much to us since your first visit to the Citadel."
Marcus sighed and allowed a weak smile to cross his face, the spectre straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back, "A large and tedious process, Anderson. We didn't even fight the Collectors all that much; it was mostly a long, drawn out process of recruiting the people I needed and doing their personal missions. You could say they're pretty loyal."
"Why's that? I know Garrus, Tali and Kaidan, but the others seem like unknowns to me," Anderson asked a-matter-of-factly.
"I gave them the chance to leave the ship after the destruction of the Collector Base," Marcus declared, turning his head to meet Anderson's eyes, "But they stayed with me. Every single one of them. A few Cerberus crew left, but even my mess sergeant, the engineers, my yeoman...they all told the Illusive Man to get fucked when they didn't leave the Normandy. We're a tightly-knit group now. An unusual one."
Anderson chuckled lightly, "I don't think anyone can claim the Normandy crew as anywhere near normal; especially since you now harbor a geth. Tell me Marcus, do you truly think that was a good idea?"
The man he considered a son gave him a strong gaze, "I trust Legion Anderson; its weird, I know. I barely know it, but I've got this gut feeling in my chest...it was that seem gut feeling that made me defy the Council and seek you out when we were impounded on the Citadel before Saren's attack. The same gut feeling that told me the Reapers were real. The one that told me that I loved-" he cut himself off, "That gut feeling has never let me down Anderson; I've learnt to trust it. And its telling me to trust Legion. That I can trust it. I'm going to follow my gut."
"You've rarely been wrong Mark. And I know you; you wouldn't trust it so easily if you knew it wouldn't betray you. I believe you. Just as I believed you about the Reapers," he sighed. If only Udina could work that stick out of his ass and do the same. But he'd rather pout and kiss the Council's asses then acknowledge the truth right infront of him. I doubt the Council has even come around...they'll probably find a way to deny everything Shepard's set out.
Then he realized and old mishap and turned to Marcus again, smiling, "Also Marcus, you can just call me David. I think you've earned that much, don't you think?"
The spectre chuckled; that same charming smile. That same smile Hannah, his mother, used to adore. Anderson had always been like a father to Marcus ever since his father died in the First Contact War. The ex-captain knew Marcus was special when he didn't develop a racist attitude towards turians after that. Most kids who lost a father during that period would have turned to Cerberus or the Terra Firma Party, and god help us if those scumbags grew any further. After that, Anderson had supported Marcus' plans to join the marines, trained him himself and was there for him after Akuze and Torfan when his mother couldn't be.
"Sure thing...David," Marcus replied, "Although its going to take some time getting used to."
"Don't blame you. I don't you're crew, or anyone else who knows you, will be able to get over calling you Shepard," Anderson joked, inwardly wondering when the SSV Orizaba would dock with the Citadel. One hell of a surprise; for both of them. As far as Hannah knows, its just another political meeting. I just hope Udina doesn't turn up; last thing we need is him souring the mood with his lectures and talks of political shit-storms.
The elevator arrived and opened, allowing Marcus to step out, Anderson in tow. When he was fully out in the open, Anderson had to gape at the size of the new Normandy. She wasn't quite the size of a destroyer, but she was pretty damn close. He almost forgot about the Cerberus logo and the colors to accompany it that adorned the hull, in awe of how much bigger the SR-2 was compared to the SR-1.
Noticing he had stopped, Marcus looked at him and smiled, "She big enough for you, Anderson?"
The man laughed, "Be careful Mark; the Alliance brass sees this, they might try to steal it from you."
The spectre let out a low chuckle, jabbing a thumb at his vessel, "They'd have to try really hard. My crew wouldn't give the ship up unless I ordered them to."
"I don't doubt it," Anderson admitted, motioning towards the ship's airlock, "So, Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, are you going to give me a tour of your vessel or not? The outside is very pretty, but I think its the interior I came to see."
Marcus nodded and both of them walked into the frigate's airlock, waiting for the decontamination sequence to run its course before the second airlock door opened and omitted them into the vessel. At first, Anderson didn't really notice anything all that different about the Normandy, but when he stepped onto the cross between the flight deck and the cockpit, his jaw almost dropped when he saw the sheer size of the CIC. Its huge! Has to be two times as big as the one on the SR-1! The Galaxy Map table was different as well; the front was occupied by a hologram of the ship itself with a promptable cross-section layout and the galaxy map lay behind it. He was surprised Cerberus even incorporated that into the ship; it was a turian design.
"Hey, Commander. I've got something to-whoa! Captain Anderson!" The councilor turned around and faced the cockpit, smiling as his eyes came to meet those of the familiar and always likable pilot.
"I'm a councilor Joker, remember?" Anderson stated.
The pilot shrugged, grinning like he always did, "You're still the captain I used to remember."
Anderson gave an amused glance in Marcus' direction, "This smartass giving you trouble?"
"He's still prone to bad jokes and sarcasm, if that's what you're asking," Marcus retorted, "And he's still the great pilot he's always been."
Joker feigned offense, "Best, not great, nor good. I'm the pilot. Give me the Normandy and I make her dance for you; just don't make me stand up and dance or...well, unless you like the sound of snapping shinbones."
"I'd prefer not to have to page Doctor Chakwas Jeff," an unfamiliar synthetic voice spoke. Anderson tried to find the source but stopped as his eyes landed on a hovering, pawn-shaped blue orb hovering over a pad next to Joker's pilot seat. Had he heard it right? A VI doesn't 'prefer' to do anything, it does what its programmed to do. Seriously Mark, how many AIs do you have?
"Another AI Mark? I guess keeping this out of the sight of the Council was a good idea. One AI is bad enough, especially when its a geth, but two AIs?"
"Her name is EDI," Joker introduced her, "And she's not bad. TIM had her installed into the ship when he built the Normandy. Shepard and I didn't trust her at first...but she's alright. She's more than earned my trust...especially when she saved me. She cares about the crew, and I think she's...a friend, not just a computer. She's proven herself trustworthy."
"Saved you?" Anderson asked with confusion, looking at the spectre next to him, "What happened?"
"We were lured to Eden Prime on the pretenses the Collectors would soon abduct the colony. We were hoping to repel them," Marcus told him, looking down at the deck plating, "We learnt too late that it was a trap set up by Harbinger and the Collectors to lure us off the ship so they could abduct the crew. They would have gotten Joker too, but he was forced to unshackle EDI and give her control of the ship. He thought that when he did it; the AI would try and kill him, but instead she activated FTL and saved him and the ship. I've trusted her ever since, as has the rest of the crew. Even Tali doesn't mind her."
"Fair enough. I trust your judgment on the matter, just keep her out of sight. If you want people renovating this ship, you'd better keep your geth and EDI out of sight otherwise they might flip out and it could end badly. And you mentioned a Harbinger. Who's that? Another Reaper?"
"Yes, but not just any Reaper Anderson. It was their leader," Marcus declared.
Anderson grinned widely, "So you blew him up along with the Collectors."
Marcus shook his head sadly, scratching the light stubble on his chin that served as a beard, "No, we didn't. Harbinger wasn't never there; he was controlling the Collectors through the collector general, which in turn was being controlled through a station relay that connected to the Reaper fleet in dark space. He's still out there, as is the other thousands of Reapers waiting to invade, but we know they're coming, and sooner than we'd like. We did blow up that Human-Reaper though; so I guess that counts."
Anderson whistled, looking impressed, "You've killed two Reapers so far Marcus; you've definitely caught their attention."
He nodded, smiling, "Indeed I have; we've probably pissed off every Reaper out there...or impressed them. I don't know Anderson..."
"Yeah, Sovereign seemed to be all about wiping us all out," Joker piped in, gaining both of their attention, "But Harbinger was preaching about ascension, and 'we are your salvation through destruction!' Then some shit about a prophecy and a destiny Shepard had to fullfill. It was real interested in the commander; you'd have to be blind not to see that the Reapers are clearly interested in you Shepard."
"Maybe they percieve as me as such a large threat that they want to try and soften me up and make their cause look justified," Marcus responded, turning to Anderson and motioning down the flight deck, "If so, they'll have a hard time convincing me. I'm not going to sacrifice trillions of lives to the Reapers just because they lectured me about 'my destiny.' Not to mention I've got too many people I care about."
We all do Shepard. We all do. With that, Anderson followed Marcus down the flight deck, admiring the new features of the ship as he went by, trying to avoid the gazes of the ex-Cerberus crew. But as he passed them, he heard them snapping salutes or nodding at him as they passed by. Salutes? I didn't know Cerberus was big on professionalism. Or maybe that's because Shepard's ingrained a sense of military discipline into them. Good.
As they moved through the CIC, they stopped next to the terminal of a red-haired young woman wearing a checkered shirt and jeans. When she saw them, she gave a weak smile and turned to them, snapping a salute for Marcus, "Shepard," she greeted before turning to the councilor and offering him a handshake, "And you must be Councilor Anderson. Its such an honor to meet you, sir."
He nodded and took her hand in his, shaking it firmly, "The honor is all mine, Miss...?"
Her smile growed somewhat bigger, "Chambers, Kelly Chambers. I'm the commander's yeoman. I used to work for the Illusive Man, but I cut loose along with the rest of the crew after the attack on the Collector Base," having greeted Anderson, she turned back to Marcus, "Commander, just so you know, Kasumi and I bought those new uniforms you wanted. The special set you requested are in a box outside your cabin; I got Kasumi to take them up there for you."
"Thank you Kelly," Marcus thanked, patting her on the shoulder, "You okay?"
Her smile dimmed alittle but she perked up to keep up her image, "I'll be fine, commander. Its all over now; I'll get over it. Chakwas has, so has Lia and everyone else. Just me now. The nightmares will end soon; but if you ever need my help, I assure you I will not falter."
"Glad to hear it Kelly," the spectre thanked, giving her one more reassuring before motioning towards a door leading into an area labelled the 'Tech Lab.' Anderson gave Miss Chambers one more passing glance before they stepped through the door and into an empty box of a room where another door waited. He cleared his throat, turning to Marcus as they continued.
"She was...unexpected," Anderson admitted.
Marcus nodded, stopping just before he tapped the holographic interface to open the door into the lab, facing the councilor, "Most of the crew aren't what you expect from Cerberus, David; trust me, I was surprised too. But these are really good people, and they aren't tied to Cerberus anymore, so I trust them. Not with my life, but I trust them. Now, I'd like you to meet Professor Mordin Solus."
He nodded, "You mentioned him in the debrief with the Council. I'm curious to meet him."
Marcus nodded, palming the interface and opening the door, which omitted them into quite a long stretch of room. Technical and scientific equipment was set up all over, along with holographic work stations and numerous other areas assiociated with the virtues of science. And occupying the main work station infront of a observation port, was a salarian in a white labcoat, one of his two horns missing. He seemed to be moving back and forth, one hand touching his chin in thought while his assistant, Anderson guessed; a quarian with a flowing light green veil tightly wrapping her petite form, an aqua blue visor shielding her facial features. She was shorter than Tali, but definitely wasn't an engineer if she was working in here.
"You think scale itch got on Normandy via Cerberus crew. Interesting. Source irrelevant however. Need solution, not hypothesis. Cannot think of that now," the salarian named Mordin Solus rambled to his quarian assistant, who was typing away at a terminal and seemed to be offering him suggestions. Marcus and himself just stood there and watched, waiting to be noticed.
"Yes, but if we can calculate the source of distribution, we can determine not only the point of entry, but also how to successfully combat it. Scale itch is a sexually transmitted disease, and its only communicable by varren, so..."
Mordin took a deep breath, "Implications unpleasant, Miss Vael. However, hypothesis correct. Very good. Determine source, develop countermeasures. Suggestions?"
The quarian nodded eagerly, turning from her terminal, "The first step would be to call in the host and run a check on him/her. Once done, we can run a search on the extranet for similiar cases and see how others treated it. Using their progress, we can develop our own strategy for counteracting the effects of the scale itch."
"Excellent," Mordin complimented about to continue when he finally noticed Marcus and Anderson waiting patiently. The salarian smiled, causing the quarian to turn around and almost jump when she saw them. Instead, she saluted shakily, "Captain Shepard! I didn't see you there; I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize," Marcus replied, deciding to not push the topic of scale itch, something which Anderson was thankful for. But why did the quarian call him captain? A question for later perhaps, "Just wanted to introduce you to Councilor Anderson, a good friend of mine. I'm giving him a tour of the ship."
"Councilor!" the quarian greeted, snapping another salute for the man, "I am Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, a pleasure to meet you! I'm Mordin's assistant!"
"Yes yes, very exciting prospect," Mordin piped up from Lia's side, the salarian now addressing Anderson, "Heard much about you. Largely responsible for saving Citadel. Former N7. Ran for spectre, ruined by Saren Arterius," he held up his three-fingered hands to delay any shocked responses, "Former STG operative; hear alot within office. Retired now, ran clinic on Omega, serve on Normandy ship. Good ship. Good crew. Good commander. Many interesting things. Excellent set up. Enjoy the challenge," the salarian took a deep breath, "Work is relaxing. Stressful work more fun. Sing Gilbert and Sullivan when off duty."
Anderson was overwhelmed by the salarian's hyper talking speed, but he guessed he shouldn't be surprised, since the salarian brain could comprehend things faster than any other living being in existence, "I see Shepard doesn't settle for the average soldier. I've heard much about you myself, Professor Solus. You've made quite a name for yourself in the galaxy; your clinic on Omega among one of them. I heard you cured it."
Mordin gave a cocky smile, "Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong," the salarian turned to Marcus, still smiling, "Much work to do, nice to meet former captain. Scale itch on Normandy. Also, would like to speak privately later. Doctor-patient confidentiality. Pertains to relationship with Miss Zorah." With that, the salarian gave him the salarian equivalent and returned back to his desk, talking to Lia as he did, "Now, focus on scale itch. Could you please ask Crewman Goldstein..."
By the time Mordin started his next lecture with Lia, Marcus was leading Anderson out of the tech lab and out an alternative door, down an unusual corridor. Anderson laughed inside his head. A salarian and quarian scientist working together to take down a STD transmitted by varren? Shepard attracts the oddest types. Marcus stopped, opening a door to the left that opened up into a box like room with a single table in the middle, a hologram of the Normandy in the middle. "That's our new debriefing room," Marcus told him, continuing to lead him into an area labelled as the 'Armoury.'
The room was the exact same size as the Tech Lab, except this room lived up to its name in its own way. Weapon's lockers lined the left side of the room and the rest was occupied by benches covered in numerous different types of weaponry; ranging from the standard pistol to even the M-920 Cain. Anderson even saw what he thought to be a geth pulse rifle, along with a geth plasma shotgun, most likely gifts from the geth platform they called 'Legion.' The allocation of the armoury was an obvious design flaw; if anyone boarded the ship and captured the CIC, they'd also immediately capture the armoury, allowing them to secure two vital areas of the ship in a single attack. Cerberus doesn't understand military operations as well as they think they do.
Taking another look of the room, he began to just see the extent of the damage done on the ship. Some of the terminals in the CIC didn't seem to work, there had been multiple holes in the ceiling of the flight deck, a collapsed beam and a flickering light at the back of the Tech Lab and the Armoury had cracked glass observation window over looking what he assumed to the drive core and a beam that had crushed one of the benches. The debriefing room was the worst effected; wires hung from the ceiling and a collapsed beam had once barred the entrance.
"Councilor Anderson? A pleasure sir!" he heard an african-american accent sound from across the room. He turned to see a man with similiar dark-colored skin, snapping a salute in what looked to be a Cerberus uniform, but with the Cerberus insignias now missing, obviously ripped off as a symbol of how he'd abandoned Cerberus and the Illusive Man. He held a salute and as Anderson turned, he saw he wasn't alone, with another quarian, this one a male, and Kaidan, both holding salutes. Anderson smiled, "At ease. I'm not military anymore, soldiers."
"You're not a politician either sir," Kaidan stated, dropping his hand as the others quickly did, "Shepard's the best soldier I've seen, but you'll always be a captain to me sir. A pity you couldn't be with us when we took the fight to the Collectors. We really showed them not to mess with humanity."
"I'm sure you did, but I'm afraid my days as an N7 are definitely over," Anderson replied, looking at the two men who's names he didn't know, "And what are your names troopers?"
"Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor sir. I once worked with the Alliance corsairs before I joined Cerberus. Don't worry though, I've devoted my loyalty solely to Shepard now," Jacob told him, cracking his knuckles, "He knows what's right and the Illusive Man clearly doesn't. I prefer to follow men with morals, not men with hidden goals set to screw you over."
"Glad you see that way Second Lieutenant Taylor," Anderson replied, shaking the man's hand with a firm grip, turning to the quarian, "And you are?"
The quarian snapped a second salute. From what Anderson saw of him, he wore a red, tightly knit veil and had a strong muscular posture. His mask was dark black and he carried himself with the authority of a commander, "Major General Kal'Reegar vas Normandy, Migrant Fleet Marines, sir."
Anderson raised an eyebrow, "Major General?" He turns to Marcus with a grin, "It would seem he outranks you, Commander."
Kal shook his head, "A captain's authority supercedes mine on a ship. He commands the ship and the team, and he's definitely a better soldier than me, so I'll follow him no matter the rank anyway. I've seen noone who can fight like the commander."
"Whats with the quarians and calling you captain?" Anderson asked incredulously, "You're still a commander, are you not?"
"I am, but its a quarian thing. Anyone who commands a ship is a captain to them. Its more of a title than it is a rank. A term of respect," Marcus taught him.
Anderson creased his mouth in impression, "You must have really done alot for them if they're calling you a captain. Well, I'm sure you've got more of the ship to show me. Shall we?"
"Right this way sir," and with that, Marcus lead Anderson out of the armoury and into the elevator. If the councilor thought he'd seen the oddest of the Shepard crew, he obviously hadn't been paying attention.
{Loading...}
October 15, 2185
1300 hours.
Captain's Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel.
Commander Marcus Lee Shepard.
Marcus growled in frustration as he once again looked at himself in the mirror in the shower cubicle of his cabin once more, noticing again that one of the buttons of his dress uniform had come undone again. With growing annoyance, he undid all the buttons and contemplated simply taking the chaffing outfit off and going in his hoodie. Damn what the admirals thought. No, I have to look professional. I have to show them the level of respect they deserve.
Respect? Like how they respected you when they just gave up on you, smeared you as a raving lunatic and swept the Reaper threat under the rug? They were probably colloborating with the Council, just waiting for me to die so they could just forget about the whole threat all together. The Alliance abandoned you, why should you show them any respect?
Marcus shook away those thoughts, not allowing them to corrupt his state of mind. That's just childish. And what about Anderson? He didn't abandon me; the Alliance told him I was dead and he probably didn't have any proof to refute them. And for all intents and purposes, I was dead. Doesn't justify them lying about dealing with the Reapers, but it did somewhat clear them alittle. I have to be professional! If I want these people to work with me, I have to show them the respect their due. I cannot fuck this up.
He sighed as he moved back to the source of his frustration; those damnable buttons. He had recently had a shower, combed his hair back and made sure to shave alittle before putting on the alliance naval uniform provided to him by Anderson yesterday. His Commander's bars were pinned on the left breast and his Star of Terra on his right. Marcus had originally had his old Lieutenant Commander's bars from two years ago, but they were lost along with the SR-1. The uniform was official, but god did it seem to choke him, almost as if it was trying to squeeze the life out of him. I feel like a scarecrow in this piece of shit. How do admirals get around in these things? How does Anderson?
This was it; the important meeting cross alliance debrief. He wasn't rejoining the Alliance, for all purposes, he was now a spectre, and this was a spectre ship, the Council had sure it was recognized as that. The Council had even split the funds with the Alliance when Anderson finally convinced Hackett to fund repairs for the Normandy, which numbered in the hundreds of millions, including the new paintjob and additional stuff. But there was one more thing he wanted built into the Normandy that wasn't needed, but would be a special surprise.
He would speak with the Alliance Joint Command about attacking Walker Station, along with efforts to convince the Arcturus Parliament to increase funds towards military production of weapons, warships; solely dreadnoughts, and many other things. The Council was still in talks about the dreadnought production; the Treaty of Farixen limited the amount of dreadnoughts any one species could have, but they would have to look past that if they wanted to beat the Reapers. A treaty wasn't going to stop them, warships would. The time to act was now, and Marcus would play a decisive role in it. He had one shot, and he couldn't mess it up.
He didn't even hear the cubicle door open as he focused on the buttons on his shirt. But he quickly took notice when two slender arms ending in small, three-fingered hands, wrapped around his waist and a warm body pressed into him from behind him. He smiled, turning away from the shirt, and holding Tali's arms, looking into the mirror and watching as the quarian lay her head on his shoulder, biolumiscent eyes meeting his in the frame of the mirror. No communication was needed; they simply stood there, holding each other. He arched his back into her, allowing himself to melt into her grip.
After a few minutes of silence, she sighed and appeared to smile behind her purple mask, "Nice uniform; you look very...handsome in it."
"I'm not feeling it," Marcus replied with a sigh, "Bloody thing feels like a choke hold on my entire body."
Tali giggled, letting go of him and looking at him further in the mirror, "I heard you growling in here; angry with something?"
"These damn buttons keep coming undone," Marcus told her, fumbling at the works of the devil, "I swear they were made to make people go insane."
"Turn around," she ordered and he did so, turning fully to face her. He smiled and watched as she reached up, grabbed at one of the buttons and began doing them up for him, "I was only up here to grab something, but I guess I could help you with your button crisis."
"I don't sound that fussy, do I?" Marcus asked, unable to believe the words coming from her mouth. Button crisis? Not something an intelligent mind expects to say. He watched as she continued to systematically do up all the buttons for him, smiling at his question.
"If buttons can make you go insane Marcus, I don't want to know what sends the Reapers insane," not waiting for an answer, she finished for him and straightened out his uniform, patting out any creases. For a moment afterwards, they both just stood there, looking at each other. After a moment or so, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against her visor and just sighing, closing his eyes. He expected she did as well.
"This entire meeting rests on me Tali," he finally spoke up over the peaceful silence, "If I screw this up..."
Tali wasn't having any of it, "You won't. I've seen your speeches Marcus, the way you talk to people, how you inspire them, how you gain loyalty through simple words. You have a gift that's rare among others, yol'tiya. You are not only unstoppable on the battlefield, a brilliant charismatic individual, but you are also a skilled speaker who inspires loyalty in ways others couldn't imagine. You are also good at wooing women, I'll give you that."
Marcus chuckled out loud and shook his head, "And what sort of women are we talking about?"
Tali blushed behind her mask, burying it into his neck, "No one in particular..."
He sighed, opening his eyes and using both hands to stroke the sides of her helmet, "Thanks Tali; I don't know what I'd do with myself if you weren't here. I feel like I'm just another soldier when you're not around; you're the one thing that keeps me going. Thank you."
"Whenever you need me," Tali promised, earning herself a kiss on the hood, which she reciprocated by tapping her mask on his forehead. With a cheeky grin, she leaned forward, swaying her hips seductively, and whispered in his ear, "You know...I'm not sick anymore, and if you'd rather release some stress..."
He immediately goosebumps on his skin at the whisper of her voice and the warmth radiating off her body. His heartbeat increased and he felt himself wrapping his arms around her and returning her smile, "How would you suggest doing so?"
"By giving you some motivation," Tali told him, hand sliding down the front of his pants and finding her target, beginning to squeeze and rub that area, stroking it as much as she dared, all the while looking at him. It wasn't long before Marcus was fully erect and before he could move in, she slid out from under him and rushed out the door, laughing as she did. Marcus just stood there, shock on his face, a buldge in his pants. He went to follow her, but she was already running out the door, waving sarcastically at him as she went past, door closing behind her.
"You're evil woman," he scoffed, turning back to the mirror and checking over himself once more, deciding to stay put until his erection died off, not wanting the whole CIC to see him in that undignified state. I'll get back at her. She wants to play? Okay, we'll play. When he got back, he'd research ways to tap into quarian suit systems. He knew just what he wanted to do, and how to do it. With a sigh, having been satisfied with how he looked and his manhood going limp, he left the cabin and entered the elevator, hitting the button for the CIC deck.
Once down, he quickly made his way down the CIC and up the flight deck, reciprocating each salute the crew gave him as he went past, stopping at the cockpit. EDI popped up on the holopad right next to him on record time, "A skycar is awaiting you outside commander. Garrus insisted he come as a bodyguard, saying he doesn't want to take any chances with Cerberus chasing you, especially due to your current predicament."
"I can look after myself, but I appreciate the backup," Marcus told the AI and she flickered out of existence, appearing again next to Joker's console. The spectre immediately noticed the large grin plastered on Joker's face, and sighed.
"Damn commander," Joker whistled, "You lookin like a true soldier. With tha blue collar, and commander's bars, and that chaffing look..."
"Joker."
"...but I bet all the women are going to be all over you in that suit, especially..."
"Joker."
"...can't resist can you Shepard? But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to..."
"JOKER!"
"What, what is it?" Joker asked, grin still on his face and obviously enjoying his commander's new uncomfortable position, "Don't worry Shepard, your secret is safe with-"
Suddenly, his chair turned back around, cutting him off mid sentence and facing the main console. Joker lost his mirth and tried to turn his chair around, but found that he couldn't. Seeing as the culprit was obvious, Marcus smirked and looked at EDI's console, nodding, "Thanks EDI."
"I am the harbinger of your ascension. Joker will be my slave," EDI responded.
They both went silent and Joker and Marcus simply looked at EDI with horrified glances. After a few awkward moments, EDI spoke up again, "That was a joke."
"Christ EDI!" Joker let out a breath, not knowing he had held it in, "Don't scare us like that! I think I almost pissed myself!"
"At least she's learning from the best," before Joker could retort that, Marcus was out of the cockpit and in the airlock, waiting for the decontamination unit to run its course. Once it was done, he moved out onto the docks and moved over to the skycar where Garrus was waiting...
But it wasn't just Garrus waiting; the turian was in full armor and had his mattock rifle on his back, but Grunt was also with him, along with Thane. He approached the car, shaking his head as the trio noticed him and Garrus' mandibles flexed into the grin.
"EDI told me you were coming Garrus, but you brought Grunt and Thane as well? Don't you think that's a bit obsessive?" Marcus asked, but just before he finished speaking, he heard the familiar sound of feet behind him. He rolled his eyes and looked at Garrus again, "You brought Kasumi too? What are you planning for, an assault?"
Kasumi uncloaked beside him, crossing her arms and leaning against the car while pouting, "You still owe me an explanation of how you do that."
Garrus lost his grin and placed a taloned hand on one of his shoulders, "Cerberus are unpredictable bastards, Shepard. You yourself should know that underestimating them is a bad idea; we can't take any chances, especially with the entire alliance admiralty gathered. We're your bodyguard, and there's nothing you can say that can make me leave. I know Tali would probably do anything to protect you, but...well...I don't think she needs to know."
"Agreed," Marcus told the turian, motioning into the skycar, "Shall we?"
The ride to the Human Embassy, where the meeting would take place, was boring and pretty uneventful. Marcus sat in the driver's seat, guiding the vehicle through the cityscape. Grunt sat silently, as did Thane who was in silent meditation, whilst Kasumi and Garrus gave back and forth banter between one other like some kind of old married couple. For all I know, they could actually be in a relationship, but lets not jump to conclusions.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the skycar arrived outside the Citadel Embassies and they all marched out of the vehicle, Marcus leading the way in his alliance uniform with Garrus leading his praetorian guard behind him. Garrus had his mattock heavy rifle, Grunt his claymore heavy shotgun, Thane his phalanx heavy pistol and Kasumi her Locust SMG, which she had taken from Hock's vault when they raided it a...month ago? God, he couldn't even remember.
Apparently they needn't had bothered; alliance marines patrolled the area and when Marcus went past them and approached the entrance to the human embassy, he was surprised to see a full squad of N7 operatives guarding the entrance, all dressed up in red and white N7 armor, helmets on and N7 weapons at their hips or in lower parry.
As his team approached the entrance, one N7, a woman by the looks of it, raised a hand and stopped him, "Who are you and what's your business here?"
I thought my uniform would have told you. "I'm Commander Shepard, I'm here for the meeting, trooper. Surprised to see some fellow N7s here."
"Security. Brass is paranoid, especially after you dumped Cerberus. They're convinced Cerberus will do anything to kill you now, including the death of your former superiors. Good to know you're making us proud sir," the woman replied, raising her omni-tool to do a scan of him. Once done, she deactivated her omni-tool and looked at him, "I see no weapons on you, but I'm afraid your friends here are going to have to stay here."
Marcus jabbed a thumb behind him to indicate his team, "These guys? They're here for the same reason you are. They'll stay out here and help with security. I hope you don't mind."
The N7 seemed to eye Grunt with weariness but finally broke off her gaze to look back at her fellow N7, "That's fine with me, sir. My team are more than willing to cooperate."
"I'm going in with the commander," Garrus declared just before he entered. Marcus stopped and turned to the turian, but the N7 commander had already first.
"I'm sorry sir, but orders are orders. No one is allowed in there accept the brass and Shepard. The contents of that meeting are not for your ears. Please back away."
"For an N7, you should know the necessities of having a guard in the actual conference room," Garrus told him, pointing inside, "If Cerberus launches an attack, they won't brute force their way through, they'll make sure to neatralize any threats first. They'll most likely lock this door and then deploy troops through vents. They'll sneak inside, kill the brass and by the time you open that door, they'll all be gone. Now, if I were in there, I might be able to protect them."
Marcus smiled at the turian's thinking, turning to the N7 who contemplated the turian's words, "Hard to argue with a turian on strategy, soldier. Let him through and I'll make sure I take full responsibility."
"Very well sir," the N7 replied, snapping a salute.
"You honor your uniform, soldier. Keep up the good work," and with that, Marcus went inside, Garrus in tow. And, to his knowledge, Kasumi had as well, her cloak at work once again. She would most likely stay in cloak for the majority of the meeting, until of course Cerberus attacked, or if they ever attacked.
Garrus took Kasumi and they quickly retreated to the back of the room, to many of the admiral's suspicion. One admiral; Fleet Admiral Kastanie Drescher of the Second Fleet objected in her thick german accent, standing from her seat, "What is a turian doing in here? I thought security was informed to keep them out!"
"I'll take responsibility," Marcus dictated, taking a vacant seat at the end of the table next to Anderson, "I'll save you the details; but trust me, having Garrus in here is more beneficial to security then you know. If Cerberus ever attacked, or any other hostile party, Garrus could protect us better than a team outside could."
Drescher wasn't convinced, "I've barely known you Shepard, but I'm already not very impressed. You can't just let a turian in here! He could feed this information to the turian hierarchy! We can't sensitive military information fall into the hands of those dinos! We should-"
Another, more gruff and tired voice interrupted the admiral, "Oh, for the love of everyone in this room, please stop your whining Drescher and sit down. That turian is Garrus Vakarian, the very man who saved this god forsaken station two years ago. His loyalty is with Shepard and he has no record of ever serving in the turian military for more than the compulsory conscription he was given. He has no contacts in the hierarchy except his father, and Hierarch Vakarian hasn't been in contact with him for years. Its your paranoia that's allowed Terra Firma to spread its weeds, Drescher. Now sit down, shut up, and listen, and you might just learn something."
He quickly learned that the tired old voice came from none other than Fleet Admiral of the Navy Joseph Garrong himself. He was of canadian descent, guessing by the accent, and didn't wear the navy blue cap most alliance navy officials wore while on official duty. He had a thick beard that was so long, that it looked like it hadn't been shaved in months. It was prickly and used to be a rich chestnut color, but was now tethered with occasional bursts of white. His hair had once been the same color, and he wore a thick, bushy moustache that reminded him of General Robert E. Lee from the American Civil War.
Marcus examined the room and basically every admiral by name; Fleet Admiral Adina Netanyahu of the First Fleet, Israeli descent, and in charge of the defense of Arcturus Station, the seat of the Systems Alliance Parliament. It also guards the Charon/Sol Relay and the Sol System in general. She was a beautiful young woman who had acellerated in the ranks faster than any other known admiral due to her natural ability to lead. She was a brunette, with supple cheeks, blue eyes and a small nose. She held herself with an air of authority, but seemed to be the least hardass of the admiralty.
Kastanie Drescher of the Second Fleet, German descent, and in charge of the defense of the colony of Elysium. Her fleet's most notable achievements were the liberation of Shanxi from turian occupation during the final days of the First Contact War. Since then, Drescher herself had always had a huge distrust for turians, and aliens in general. She was far older than Adina, nearing sixty. She had auburn hair and looked surprisingly attractive for a woman of her age, but had a large scar across her cheek from an unknown wound. Her personality was obvious.
Nitesh Singh of the Third Fleet, Indian descent, and in charge of sharing the defense of Arcturus Station with First Fleet, but largely maintaining it due to Adina's fleet's dual defense roles. He had a thick indian accent and was largely dark-skinned, with long, brown hair tied up in a ponytail behind his cap. He mostly kept to himself and didn't seem highly opinionated, mostly keeping quiet until his suggestion on something was needed.
Viktoriya Arefyev of the Fourth Fleet, Russian descent, and was most likely a reserve fleet that hung around Jump Zero, but now had donated a few ships to the New Citadel Defense Fleet. She was highly one-sided, was almost always throat-to-throat with Drescher and was a supporter of the Alliance Communist Party. Word was that she had married a turian, which was one of the reasons Drescher disliked her. She had light skin and crimson hair that she rarely ever tied up.
He knew Hackett of the Fifth Fleet and was good friends with him; he was largely seriousness, had white hair and a heavy white stubble on his chin, and had eyes that commanded respect. The man was by far the most famous of the nine admirals in the room, and not just because his fleet helped destroy Sovereign and save the Citadel.
Osamu Nakamura of the Sixth Fleet, Japanese descent, was largely unimpressive. He was highly imperialistic, to be sure, but he was largely infamous for leading a fleet better than he did at political meetings. That was about as much as he knew of the man. He had no hair that Marcus could see and his face was a wrinkled mess.
Chang Teoh of the Seventh Fleet, Chinese descent, was highly subjugative and Marcus swore he could have been a Cerberus supporter in his past life. His own xenophobia was bounds above Drescher and it even got to the point where Chang had to be ordered to step down after he cried for a war against the Council. Chang didn't meet Marcus' eyes or even acknowledge his presence, and he understood why.
Duncan Ward of the Eighth Fleet, British descent, was something different. He wasn't neutral, narrow-minded, xenophobic, or even that charismatic. He had a dull history, with a dull voice and a dull opinion. Even his name was dull. The man had no close friends to speak of, no wife, no children and certainly noone who respected him. He was just another ordinary man. Even his face was relatively ordinary; brown eyes, smooth ears, wrinkled cheeks and a neat double chin above his neck.
The entire alliance admiralty; sitting before him. Now he just had to hope that they'd listen.
Joseph Garrong, who sat at the head of the table, as was his position as supreme commander of the Alliance Navy, started the meeting, his eyes meeting Marcus', "We've been called here to deal with a threat thought long dead two years ago. The Council had dumped the idea..."
"And for a good reason," Viktoriya added.
Joseph seemingly ignored her and continued, "...due to lack of proof, but it would seem proof has been provided. The Reapers do indeed exist and are coming. Councilor Anderson called this meeting of the admiralty to discuss plans on how to deal with this incoming threat."
"Shepard is our best source of information on how to fight the Reapers. He's fought them; his ship destroyed one, and he destroyed another recently. A Human-Reaper. A threat created because the Alliance decided to ignore our colonies in the Traverse and the Terminus. We allowed that abomination to be created," Anderson chastised.
"We did our best to defend our colonies!" Chang objected, "We even sent Staff Commander Alenko to oversee one of those operations on Horizon. We knew Cerberus was behind those attacks."
"It was the Collectors actually, which is why you're defenses on Horizon barely even fazed them," Marcus intervened, "Matters nill now anyway. I took a team beyond the Omega 4 Relay and wiped out the Collectors and their base at the source, taking their abomination with it. They are no longer a threat and we should focus on the real threat; the Reapers."
"I'm still not convinced these things even exist," Drescher interrupted, "Could be an elaborate hoax to find an excuse for war. The Council sees us violating the treaty, and they have an excuse to go to war with us."
"Come on Drescher, even you're smart enough to know bullshit when you here it," Adina spat, "If the Council wanted to go to war with us, they would. They don't no excuses. The whole galaxy barely trusts our species as it is; that's all the fuel they need. This Reaper threat is real, especially if the Council has finally admitted it. Stubborn bastards denied it for a whole two years."
"We can worry about that when we get to it," Marcus stated, leaning forward, "I wanted to talk about keeping Cerberus checked."
"We've heard of this plan," Hackett replied, "How exactly do you want this play out, commander?"
"Quite simple; I know the location of one of their drydocks and will forward the coordinates to you. Attack the facility and use the information in its databanks to keep Cerberus checked by securing all the facilities you can find. Eventually, that'll force the Illusive Man to get in line and we'll have Cerberus on our side when the Reapers finally arrive."
"You want us to ally with Cerberus?" Adina asked incredulously, turning in her seat swiftly, "Are you serious?"
"Allies, not friends admiral," Anderson responded on his behalf.
Marcus nodded, "Cerberus knows what we're facing; the Reapers are a threat to everything we know. They know that they'll have to put aside their differences and prejudices if they want to beat them. They'll have no choice but to join forces with us. The Illusive Man is a stubborn man and loves doing things his way, but if we check all his facilities, he'll have no chance but to conform to stop losing more of his resources. While that happens; I will travel to the Migrant Fleet to begin talks on an alliance."
"The Migrant Fleet," Chang scoffed, "You want us to ally ourselves with suit-rats? What use are they anyway? They're ships would fall apart and their ships flee like cowards before the Reaper ships even meet their's in combat."
"That attitude will get you harvested admiral, so I suggest you keep your narrow oesophagus shut before I close it myself," Marcus hissed before regaining his professionalism, "The quarians have the largest fleet in the galaxy and they know AIs better than any of us; having them on our side will be essential to any war effort we make. Their ships maybe old, but they can put a fight, no doubt about that," he stopped for a second, thinking over his next few words. This is it. Its all or nothing, "...but that's where it gets difficult. A friend of mine, Legion, is going to help me get into contact with the geth to broker a-"
Osamu moved forward, eyes widened, as did everyone else. Joseph showed a second of mild surprise, but quickly hid it. Osamu yelled his incredulousism, "The geth!? Are you insane? Those synthetic monstrosities work with the Reapers, according to your reports! That and they only want the destruction of all organic life! The Eden Prime War proved that!"
"That's where you're wrong admirals," Anderson stated, giving an opening for Marcus to continue, which he did.
He explained to them about the Heretics, and how the true geth want to stop the Reapers just as much as anyone else, and he told them about everything else Legion had told him. After a bit, he let them process this new information before Adina spoke up, "How can we trust this geth? And if we could, how the hell will you get the quarians and the geth to work together? You've built a career on performing the impossible, but there's a difference between impossible and impossible."
Marcus smiled, "I died admiral; hard to imagine anything else stopping me. The quarians and the geth will have to work together; and if I can do that, then securing the Terminus systems with Aria T'Loak's support will be cake. The batarians will be much harder, as will the vorcha, but we'll get to that when the time comes. However, getting the quarians and the geth to work together is key."
"How do you plan to get the quarians working with the geth and vice versa?" Garrong asked, "It won't be a walk in the park."
"By offering something the quarians can't refuse," Marcus stated, "Rannoch."
Joseph gave him a raised brow, "Rannoch? What's that?"
"The quarian homeworld, admiral," the spectre responded, "For three hundred years they have travelled the stars, and I'm going to put a stop to that. I'm going to go to the Migrant Fleet, communicate with the geth and offer peace terms. If the quarians cease all hostilities towards the geth and all experiments on them ceased, the geth will give the Perseus Veil back to the quarians. If the geth don't attack the quarians, then...well, the alliance will be sealed. The quarians will have a place to house their non-combatants and a place to build up their fleet in tandem with the geth. This development will also leave a blank spot in the Reaper's intelligence; when Sovereign was alive, the geth served it and the Migrant Fleet still travelled the stars. They will not expect quarian-geth alliance. We can use that against them."
"What about the krogan?" Duncan Ward finally asked.
"I have a close friend, a man I consider a brother, who is uniting the krogan clans on Tuchanka and consolidating their manpower. He's been doing this since after I died," Marcus declared, "His name is Urdnot Wrex, and he was part of my crew two years ago. I consider him brother and he'd never betray me. I'm confident that we'll have the krogan underwing. Getting them to work in tandem with the turians and salarians will be beyond difficult, but I think we'll manage it. Unfortunately, that makes my next suggestion all the more difficult. The krogan can't build their numbers fast enough and if war comes, the Reapers will most likely devastate them, probably wipe them out. We need a genophage cure."
"That's for the Council to figure out," Joseph piped in, "The Alliance has no voice in politics that deal with events that happened thousands of years ago. If you ask me, getting a genophage cure will be harder than convincing the quarians and geth to work together, but if anyone can do it, its you. Now, shall we discuss the topic of why we're really here?"
Marcus nodded and the meeting got into full swing.
He just hoped they would listen.
{Loading...}
October 15, 2185
1300 hours.
Citadel Embassies Courtyard, Citadel Embassies, Presidium, The Citadel.
Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Gunnery Master Garrus Vakarian, Soldier Urdnot Grunt, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Assassin Thane Krios, Councilor David Edward Anderson.
Those fucking idiots!
The meeting had been a total disaster. Marcus just couldn't remember where it all went wrong, but it had, and the admirals had gotten into arguments and conflicting opnions clashed and eventually Joseph had called for total silence. Eventually, Udina had come in to report that the Council had discussed the Human-Reaper findings, but had found little to no evidence to prove anything that the commander said was right. It was happening all over again; the Council had swept him under the rug, the Alliance Parliament abandoned him, and the alliance itself. Now the Reapers were coming, and not even the Council or the Alliance would help.
He had stormed out of the embassy in a fit of rage, ignoring the greeting of the N7 woman from before and his team following close behind, Anderson quickly running to catch up. Hackett had followed too, as he was the only admiral who actually believed in the truth of the Reapers and, if he were Fleet Admiral of the Navy, would have taken action already.
If it wasn't for that stubborn Prime Minister and his flock of hens he calls a parliament...
"I'm sorry Shepard," Anderson apologized, "I should have known things would go down hill like that. I'm pissed off the Council excluded me from their joint meeting, but there's nothing I can do about it."
Marcus stopped and Hackett finally caught up, the grizzled old man standing next to Anderson as Marcus spoke, "I can't believe them! After all the proof I've given them, they still don't believe me! The Reapers are coming, and we are less mobilized then were during the Eden Prime War! And its all because of these fucking ignorant council assholes! Sparatus, Tevos, Valern, all three of them!"
"I understand you're pissed Shepard, but there's nothing that can be done," Hackett piped in, "Sparatus actually wanted to arrest you on grounds that you were becoming alot like Saren, but apparently Tevos and Valern disagreed with him, luckily. There's nothing I can do that could convince Garrong otherwise. But just so you know, when the Reapers do arrive, my fleet is yours. Good luck, Shepard," with that, Hackett snapped a salute and left, most likely going to take a shuttle back to his flagship, the SSV McKinley.
Marcus sighed heavily as he wiped his brow, sagging in defeat. I was so close. I thought I had them, then some last minute political bullshit takes it away. I fucking hate democracy sometimes. We could have made a force so powerful, we'd destroy the Reapers, but in a couple of moments, its all taken away. I have no choice; I can't just give up now, there's too much to fight for to let some politicians doom us to extinction. Maybe if I succeed in getting the quarians and the geth to work together, I can convince the Alliance to reconsider.
Anderson placed a hand on the man's shoulder, causing Marcus to look up. The man shook his head, "You may not have gotten their help in fighting the Reapers, but they at least agreed to check Cerberus, even if their reasons are different. They will attack Walker Station."
"Yeah, a phyrric victory at best," Marcus replied, before standing up straighter, "Its not over Anderson. Its far from it. I'm still going to contact the quarians and make that alliance. It just means the Alliance and the Council won't build their fleets until its too late. A matter of fact, I'll have to ignore the Council and appeal directly to their governments; the hierarchy, the republics and the union. It'll be a slower process, but it needs to be done."
"I know you'll do your best Marcus. We're all depending on you, even if the brass doesn't realize it," Anderson told him, squeezing his shoulder, "If you need my help, you tell me. I don't care what Udina or the Council say. Damn them. I'll help you in whatever capacity I can. I should probably get in contact with a friend of mine and let her know what you're up to. Maybe she can help you."
"Who is this contact of yours?" Marcus asked, curiosity peaked a little.
"A close friend of mine. I told you about her not too long ago; she was the main reason I hit that refinery with Saren all those years ago," Anderson told him, "Her name is Kahlee Sanders. She works at Grissom Academy, but I'm sure she can use her resources to help you."
"Thank you Anderson. You keep doing humanity proud," Marcus snapped the councilor a final salute before turning to leave and head for the skycar parked nearby, hoping to get back to the Normandy as soon as possible. The Council would most likely have rescinded the funds to complete the Normandy's repairs, meaning they were back on square one. So where could they go to finish the repairs?
The answer was instant. He knew just the person who acquire the funds, and the place that had the space docks to do it.
They were going back to Illium.
As he approached the skycar, he heard someone shout from across the courtyard and he froze, easily remembering the voice. He turned and saw an alliance captain, female, moving towards him, her officer's cap on and white hair tied up in a ponytail. He looked at the captain of the SSV Orizaba, his mother, Hannah Shepard.
"Mum-"
He was rewarded with a massive slap to the face, causing him to reel backwards into the skycar and Grunt and Garrus to barely stiffle a laugh. Hannah shot them down with a glare and focused her attention on Marcus, who was trying to ignore the sting on his face.
"Where the fuck have you been!?"
{Loading...}
October 15, 2185
1324 hours.
Crew's Quarters, Mediator-Class Heavy Tanker QMFV Huzzi, Migrant Fleet, Utopia System, Exodus Cluster.
Mechanic Peta'Yala vas Huzzi.
Peta'Yala vas Huzzi was sweating profusely as the overhead heat burned down on him and through the vent he currently occupied, making him uncomfortable as his suit's systems attempted to adapt. He checked his omni-tool's readings and determined that the source of the leak had been a faulty power conduit; one he had just repaired. With a satisfied sigh, Peta pulled himself out of the vent, deactivating his omni-tool in the process as he slid out and stood back up.
"How was it? Did you fix it?" asked Chief Engineer Veloa'Gerrel vas Huzzi.
Peta nodded, gesturing towards the ship's not-too-impressive drive core, "Shouldn't have any more problems. If you do, just tell me and I'll fix it. Got nothing else to do on this ship."
"Yeah, I feel sorry for you," Veloa thanked him, patting him on the shoulder before he turned back to his console and got back to work on the readouts, leaving Peta alone with his thoughts. With a sigh, he clenched his fists and opened them again, quickly leaving the room and heading for the crew's quarters. Once he found them, he located his bunk and leapt into it, lying down, hands folded on his chest and simply looking blankly up at the ceiling.
Its been a while. I haven't heard a thing about her. Should I try my luck with admiralcy? They're still voting; can't believe they actually put Tali forward as a potential candidate. She's an engineer, not an admiral! She isn't fit for leadership! She won't likely win anyway. And once I'm chief admiral, she'll have no choice but to accept my orders or be exiled. She won't risk exile, so she'll come. Even her precious Shepard couldn't stop her from doing that, or convince her otherwise. She's as good as mine. I can just taste her lips right now...
He badly tried to imagine her face, but couldn't. He knew his own face like he knew the crew compliment of the ship escorting them. So how could he imagine what Tali's face looks like? I want to. I want to imagine her lips on mine; how her skin would taste. What her moan would sound like. How it'd feel to be inside her...
Okay, now his thoughts were just getting perverted. This is probably why she doesn't like me; always coming out like I'm some kind of perv. I love her, not just for her body but for...her. I'll do anything for her, and I'll do anything to get her. He had the Shadow Broker on his side, and with the most powerful information broker in the galaxy aiding him, there was nowhere Shepard and Tali could run and he couldn't find them. At first, he thought the Shadow Broker would want something in return, but he just said 'I'll find something' and just started helping. There's always a catch. Of course, I did do him the favor of setting up that trap on Eden Prime. The Collectors would take the crew, and the Shadow Broker's mercs would capture Shepard and his team. Obviously didn't work, but I'm not stopping there. She will be mine.
Suddenly, his omni-tool began to beep with an incoming call. He frowned behind his mask, wondering how they could already want him to fix something again. But when he saw that it was an anonymous source, and checked the registry, he found it was the Shadow Broker calling him. With a frown, he opened the omni-tool and connected the call, a static filled screen occupying the screen. At first he thought the connection was faulty, but then a voice spoke.
"Mister Yala," the Shadow Broker greeted, "I have an update on Miss Zorah."
Peta wiped the surprise from his face as he straightened up and looked intently at the screen, "What is it? Have you found her?"
"That and I know where she is going," the Broker declared, "She is currently on the Citadel. To my unfortunate discovery, they had recently returned from wiping out the Collectors and their base, as one of my agents informed me. However, I heard from another agent that Shepard is making plans to leave for the Migrant Fleet to begin negoitations with the quarians to build an army to fight the Reapers. I thought you'd like to know, as this is your chance to make another move."
Peta smiled evilly, "That's good to hear."
"I require one favor from you however," the Broker stated, "It benefits both of us, this favor. It will acquire you Tali'Zorah, while also eliminating a threat."
"Whatever you need," Peta told him eagerly.
"Shepard is an enemy of ours, you and I know this. He has stolen the love of the one you care about the most away from you and left you empty. Shepard has also disrupted my own operations, causing havoc for my agents and denying me important intel that has damaged my business over the course of many months, even years. We both need him dealt with. So, in your interests and mine, Shepard must be removed as a threat..."
"...he must be eliminated. When he reaches the fleet, get him alone, unarmed and unaware, and then kill him. Discreetly of course; we don't need people finding out you're behind it, do we? With Shepard out of the way, Tali'Zorah will envitably fall into a fit of grief, and who better to soothe her than Peta'Yala vas Huzzi?"
"No one," Peta declared, his goal set, "It will be done. That filthy human's blood shall be spilt."
"Good to hear it. His death will take a great weight off both of our shoulders. I have agents on standby if you require anything. You need backup, and my agents will move at your command. Good luck, Mister Yala. May our business conclude with both of us wearing smiles," And with that, the Broker cut the comm channel, allowing Peta to fall back into his bunk.
Kill Shepard. Get the girl of his dreams.
He sighed, knowing he must murder a man to get what he wanted, but in the end...
...if he wanted something, he had to take it.
"Your mum."
Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"My mum."
- Marcus Shepard.
"That was a...interesting, experience."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"You bet it was."
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
Please review! I need the sustenance! Everyone of you reading, review! Let me know what you think of these revelations and plot twists!
YOL'TIYA: KHELISH FOR 'MY OTHER HALF' OR 'MY LOVE.'