REQUIEM
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF ASSASSINS
October 29, 2185
1652 hours.
VICINITY UNKNOWN. DATA INCOMPLETE. LOCATION UNKNOWN.
The Shadow Broker.
He cursed inwardly at the reports that blooded into his terminal. Another operation gone wry, and to think he had sent of his best operatives to lead the operation. Aeda Pil had never let him down before, and he had been an ex-STG agent, which was an added bonus. But now the man was dead, along with the entire squad of soldiers he had sent under his command. Even the Illusive Man's commandos were dead, with the Montgomery captured and claimed by the quarians.
It would seem that killing Commander Shepard with sheer force was going to be simply impossible; and in all honesty, he should have seen it coming. The man was an artist on the battlefield, practically god himself, with a immortality rate surpassing that of his fellow spectres, marines and N7 operatives. He had fought thousands of geth, defeated numerous krogan warriors, brought down the infamous Saren Arterius, and recently wiped out the Collectors; a race even the Shadow Broker had once learnt to keep a great distance from.
And he had sent a squad alongside incompetent, mercenary-grade trained Cerberus commandos, expecting a victory that involved Shepard, Tali'Zorah, Liara T'Soni and Shala'Raan dead. How foolish he had been.
It was clear now that he would need to be more subtle; brute force was completely off the board now. Shepard and his team were simply too skilled. Which would mean he would go back to square one; assassins and, as a last resort, planting a seed of doubt. And this time he wouldn't send rogue spectre agents or squads of soldiers to take them down; he would send snipers or elite hitmen. Shepard was still on the Rayya, so it was possible he could still use Peta as an asset; he was perceived as a non-threat by Shepard, making him perfect. He would send the necessary commands.
Before he could however, his terminal beeped loudly and he turned to see a pending call coming from the real Shadow Broker; the quarian. He sighed heavily and groaned, hoping his emotionless face relayed nothing to the quarian for her to evaluate. He hit the connection button, and the quarian's mask appeared on screen, her glare somehow transferable through its opaque surface.
"Second Broker," the quarian addressed, voice laced with barely contained anger, "Why do I see reports from my agents making light of a failed attack on the Migrant Fleet by not only Cerberus, but Shadow Broker operatives working side by side with terrorist scumbags in an assault on a quarian liveship, ending in the massacre of dozens of innocent civilians. I DID NOT GIVE THE GREEN LIGHT FOR THESE ORDERS! DID YOU!?"
The man almost flinched at the quarian's snarling; almost. But he wasn't about to be intimidated by a quarian far smaller than him; a quarian who he could easily crush with his foot, "I admit, I did give those orders; even sent Agent Pil to carry it out. It had to be done; I saw an opportunity to eliminate our enemy in one stroke and took it."
He could practically hear the quarian fuming as she slammed a datapad she had been holding onto her desk with a loud bang, "I make the orders, and you release them! If you have any suggestions on how to deal with this, you contact me. You are nothing but a relay for my commands. If not for me, I'd have let you whether that storm outside."
The Second Broker growled, but apparently the quarian broker wasn't willing to stop at that, "I have so many reasons to be angry over this, but how about we start at the top, shall we? Now, care to explain to me why my agents, under your orders, were working alongside Cerberus commandos? I didn't realize my soldiers served alongside terrorists."
He cleared his throat, "An alliance of conveinence, Shadow Broker. Cerberus is merely working with us to eliminate a mutual threat; Commander Shepard. Our networks, combined, have made our efforts in tracking down the man piecemeal. I can't speak for the skill of his soldiers though, but he at least gets the job done and has a fleet that we are lacking. Besides, this alliance also allows us to gain insider intel on Cerberus operations that we can use in the future. Once Marcus Shepard and his associates are dead, Liara T'Soni most notably, I was planning on cutting all ties with Cerberus."
"Hmm...can't fault you on that I guess. You may have some semblance of competence yet," the quarian mused, rubbing the bottom of her helmet before suddenly snapping back to reality, returning to her piercing glare, "But that's only one thing. What disgusts me further is that, instead of just killing Shepard, you order a massacre. How many innocent people died because you ordered my men to be incompetent imbeciles? You murdered innocents!"
"Is that what bothers you? Or is it because they're quarian?" The second broker found himself throwing back, almost regretting the words as soon as he uttered them.
"That is inconsequential! Plus, you are avoiding the topic!" The quarian counterattacked, "I cannot believe you ordered my men to slaughter innocents. Was I blind enough to let you order my troops around? I should have to make changes if this keeps up! Not only that, but you attack a liveship of all things! And I believe you ordered the deaths of Marcus Shepard, Tali'Zorah and Shala'Raan! I cannot believe you would do that! Do you not understand the difference between 'alive' and 'dead'?"
"Are you serious!?" The second broker burst, standing up in shock, "You actually want them alive!?"
"Yes! They are...important!" The quarian insisted, faltering slightly in her wording, "Liara T'Soni is not part of that equation; eliminate her however you wish; she is, afterall, a threat. But the other three were to be left unharmed! Shala'Raan is of no threat to us! As for Shepard and Tali...they...they are simply too important! Who will stop the Reapers if not them!?"
"Now you're grasping at straws!" He slammed his own fists down on his desk, cracking it, "On her own, T'Soni is no threat! But with Shepard helping her, we won't be able to hold her back! You saw the reports; our team didn't stand a chance! All three of them must be neatralized before we can-"
"Absolutely not!" The quarian interrupted loudly, leaning forward, "You hear me? Absolutely. Not. If they must be removed from the equation, then tranquilize them and bring them here!"
"What the fuck are you on?" the second Broker responded, "Bringing them here? You'll jeopardize the entire operation!" Yet again, I would crush Shepard like an insect. But this man has been known to defeat enemies far beyond our imagination; to bring him here...he'll kill both of us! And how will the Shadow Broker help the galaxy then? How does a corpse manage an information agency of this size? "They must die. There is no other conclusion!"
"I will hear no more of it," the quarian snapped, sitting back down in her seat and picking up the datapad she had so vehemently slammed on the table, "You will recall all the forces you devoted to this operation and bring them back here. You will cut all ties you have with Cerberus and I will deal with the backfire from the quarian admiralty. You've found a mess of this and now you'll help clean it up. Like coddling children..." And with that, the connection cut.
The second broker found himself growling and the chair groaned under the weight placed on it, and he found himself staring pointlessly at his terminal screen. She's a fool; she would have us both killed just to see that both Shepard and Tali'Zorah live. What is her obsession with them? Why is she so eager to protect them, but kill Liara T'Soni? They're a threat! No matter; I can find other ways to take care of them without devoting the manpower of our own troops. They're a bound to be good hitmen looking for a kill.
He opened his terminal, and began sifting through the list of top hitmen in the galaxy of every species, but none of them were anywhere near good enough to take out someone like Shepard. Only person is Thane Krios, and he is a devotee to Shepard, so that's off the book. He rubbed his chin with his massive clawed hand, trying to think of who would be skilled enough to kill him. Only person I can think of is me; but I cannot leave this base. So who? The Illusive Man's commandos are incompetent, so letting those terrorists deal with the problem is also off the books.
Then it hit him. Yes, it was perfect. A sadistic grin hit his face. Yes, he would formulate a false message, sent to Liara from a blocked source, claim it was Sekat (who he had yet to deal with), and then tell her to meet on Illium. Shepard would inevitably escort her, and Tali went wherever he did. He would then claim that it was an issue of an explosion at a refinery; that would draw the attention of a certain justicar.
It was perfect. Yes, there was only one person he knew of that could possibly kill Shepard.
And it was someone he would never see coming.
While he formulated the forced message, he simultaneously began to hack into Tali'Zorah's omni-tool and began faking messages.
The perfect assassination indeed...
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October 29, 2185
1652 hours.
Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Rayya.
Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Medical Officer Karin Chakwas, Mercenary Veteran Zaeed Massani (Medically Induced Coma).
It had been many hours since the joint Cerberus-Shadow Broker assault on the quarian liveship, the QMFV Rayya. Many of the crew, especially the quarian members of it, were still trying to get over the sudden attack, with the civilian casualties being over twenty; not alot by wartime standards, but to the quarians, that was alot. Luckily; the casualties did not exceed that of the Idenna, and no children were killed either.
The attack came as a shock to some; the Admiralty Board was devastated, having been thoroughly convinced that an attack of such scale couldn't happen again after it did a year ago. But it had; Cerberus had slipped one of their cruisers through, docked with a liveship, and attacked it. The assault was repelled, but even the quarians were finding themselves questioning just how safe they really were.
The Montgomery, the Cerberus Light Cruiser responsible for the assault, had been claimed by the quarians, and once the remains of the crew were cleaned up, the ship would be repainted and crewed, becoming one of the most advanced ships, and a warship at that, in the Migrant Fleet. It would join Gerrel's Heavy Fleet, and would be renamed the Liapoqa. Overall, the enemy attack wasn't a complete defeat.
But many were now dead, and it had been no thanks to him. Cerberus and the Shadow Broker were clearly working together to kill him and his crew, and by being on the liveship, they had brought death upon unsuspecting innocents. That, and the ship's captain, Kar'Danna vas Rayya, had died in the attack, to Tali's melancholy.
He had been massively disturbed by Tali's actions and how she had killed the Cerberus captain; now identified as Michael Gatley. It had scared him; that his image of a sweet, innocent, adorable little quarian engineer with the ability to lead had turned into a vicious creature of violence and bloodshed in a matter of seconds. They had talked about it, and while they had reconciled, Marcus still felt shivers course up his spine from remembering the incident.
He was now back on the Normandy after returning from a funeral service for Captain Danna and the rest of the civilians and crewmen butchered, all of them put in pods and shot out into space in a traditional quarian funeral ceremony. The corpses of the dead Cerberus commandos and Shadow Broker soldiers, however, had simply been tossed into space, the quarians practically spitting on their invader's bodies. From then on, he vowed to make Cerberus, and the Shadow Broker especially, pay.
He moved forward, his legs guiding him towards the medical bay, sighing as he moved inside, watching as the sterile walls of the room appeared to greet him. Legion was still locked away in the AI Core, and EDI was so far trying to remain a secret, instead posing as a VI. The room was now largely unoccupied, with only one figure occupying the back of the room; bed alone.
There, lying on his back and sleeping away, was Zaeed Massani, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy; currently in a medically-induced coma after being ambushed by Shadow Broker mercenaries and mortally wounded. He turned to see Chakwas sitting behind her desk, and at hearing the door open, the old woman turned to face him, a smile appearing.
Doctor Karin Chakwas was a unique kind of doctor; one who enjoyed her work, but only if it was on soldiers, and only if she was treating them on a ship; evident by her displeasure at having to be reassigned to a medical facility on Mars after the SR-1's destruction, before joining Cerberus. She had become a part of the Normandy family, and in turn, cared deeply for all of them, acting as a motherly figure. She had looked after Kaidan with his biotic implants, Joker with his Vrolik's syndrome and Garrus with his facial scarring.
She was old, and that was evident, but even for her age, she was still fit and able to commence her duty, making her invaluable to the Normandy crew, but in the end, it wasn't just her skills that mattered; it was her motherly companionship. She was always there for you, even for when others weren't. And right now, she was doing all she could for Zaeed Massani; a mercenary she barely knew.
"Marcus," Chakwas greeted, sighing as she leaned back slightly in her chair, "What brings you here? Coming to check up on Zaeed here?" She jabbed a thumb at the unconscious merc, and she did so overly exaggerated irritation; something he found himself chuckling at.
"Causing you trouble doc?" He asked, trying not to sound too amused.
Chakwas rolled her eyes, "Don't ask me how he did it, but after I patched him up and put in a medically-induced coma, he somehow woke up six hours later asking if he could get back to work; I told him no, but he insisted. In the end, I had to put him back into a coma, and he's been sleeping like a baby ever since. Most of his wounds have healed up, but he's going to have pretty nasty scars. He took a real beating."
He nodded, moving past the doctor and moving to stand before Zaeed's bed. And damn, he wasn't a pretty sight. Of course, he looked better from when he was initially brought into the med bay, but he still wasn't pretty, not by any stretch of the imagination; come to think of it, he never really was, so that point was moot.
The bullet hole in his forehead had healed up and was now just a faint scar, and the one to the back of his head was now covered by quickly growing hair, so noone would notice that scar. But all over his body, he was covered in ugly bullet holes, and his body was laced with them. He thought the mercenary was ugly before, but now he was the definition of anti-casanova. No woman would even want to touch a man who looked like he had taken a dip in a firefight.
Chakwas appeared to his side, "To my complete surprise, he'll make a full recovery. The bullet to his forehead never got passed the cranium; somehow, it flattened on impact, and the injury to the skull was surpisingly minor. The one in his mouth was harder to stitch up, but I got it down, and he's definitely not going to be dying from that. He'll live; won't be able to fight for a couple of days afterwards, but he'll be fine."
"A few days of inactivity? Why? He won't like that," Marcus told her.
"Too bad for him. Its for his own good," Chakwas replied, pulling down a piece of ripped cloth that had been the bounty hunter's leggings, "Bullet tore right through his leg, just missed a major artery, the lucky bastard. It'll hurt for sometime afterward, and using it is out of the question; the best he can do is limp. But he'll live; I think that's good enough."
"And I thought I could pull off the impossible," Marcus chuckled.
Chakwas shook her head, bracing herself against the edge of the bed, "Don't feel underwhelmed yet, Shepard. The man didn't die and return from the dead, I believe."
"You have forever upheld the honor of my ego," Marcus replied, grinning from ear to ear as he bowed ridiculously, earning him a slap on the shoulder from Chakwas before he pulled back up, "You did a awesome job, Karin. Few doctors could pull off healing a man like that."
Chakwas puffed, "Few doctors are Doctor Karin Chakwas of the Normandy SR-2."
He laughed as he left the med bay, heading for the galley as he looked for something to eat. His thoughts ran back over the attack on the Rayya. All of that; and they thought they'd kill me? I thought the Illusive Man was smarter than that; not to mention the Shadow Broker, Lord of all things Information. They must really want me dead. But I'll find them first. I won't let this charade go on for one second longer than it has to.
He stopped infront of Gardner, who seemed preoccupied with something, but quickly turned his head up to look at Marcus, smiling, "Ah, commander! What can I get you? Interested in some seasoned chicken? Recently got a fresh stock of it before we left for the Rayya; full of deliciousness!"
"Don't mind if I do," Marcus replied, picking up a plate and placing it ontop of the counter while Gardner got to work placing food on the plate and filling him a drink. While this happened, the spectre took time to look around the Mess Hall; wondering at all the faces. Everyone looks shocked, fearful...but most of all, I see anger. Most of these people used to be Cerberus diehards, and now they've just witnessed what their employer is fully capable of. They'll do anything to help stop him. Good. Cause we will.
"Here you go commander," Gardner said, sliding his plate forward until it was in the N7's grasp and he had picked up his drink. He gave an appreciative nod in the cook's direction, he nodded back and returned to looking at...whatever the hell it was he had been looking at, and Marcus headed over to the main Mess Hall table, positioning himself across from Mordin and Lia, who seemed immersed in their conversation, and Gabby and Ken, who seemed to be arguing about something.
"You're daft woman!" Ken exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air exasperately, "I did not break no laws on the ship by doing that! You're crazy!"
That earned him a jab in the ribs from Gabby, "And you're an insufferable git. Do you realize how expensive it is to have those replaced? A damn fortune! And how much did you break it? Well...its useless now! And if engineering ever suffers a venting problem and we call die from heat exhaustion...I'm telling Death that it was your fault!"
"Noone will find out! Besides, its not like the Normandy is doing alot of fighting anyway, woman!" Ken retorted, taking a bite out of what looked to be scottish haggis, and crunching it in his mouth before turning back to his engineering partner-in-crime. He saw that Gabby wasn't backing down, and still had a look of pure murder on her face. He sighed heavily through his nostrils, "Come on, don't be so harsh!"
"Don't be so harsh? Don't be so harsh!?" Gabby practically shouted, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close enough that their faces were inches apart, "Do you have any idea what the boss will do to us if she finds out about the heating conductors?"
"Who, Shepard?" Ken chuckled, "Come on, he barely understands engineering! We'll just shout a bunch of technobabble in his face and we'll be cleared!"
"No, not Shepard!" Gabby hissed, "The boss!"
"You mean...you mean the quarian lass? Tali? The-quarian-with-a-sweet-ass-and-hips Tali?" Ken grumbled, "I'm sure Shepard will talk her out of it."
"She'll tear us a new one," Gabby growled, "I am not getting blamed for this, so you better get those damn things fixed, or you'll find yourself scrubbing the plasma venting compartments for weeks. And that's when she's feeling generous. And she won't be. Why? Because Cerberus just invaded her home; which means she is now most definitely pissed. And the last thing she needs, when pissed, is to find-"
"Okay, damn it, I get it!" Ken snapped back, a grin creasing his features, looking almost evil, "But if I'm lucky, I might be able to get a nice view of that fine ass of hers while she's not loo-" It was then that Ken noticed his commander watching and he almost froze, a slow hand rising into the air and waving in an almost comical 'hi' fashion.
"Better get to it, Donnelly," Marcus remarked, a grin hidden under his cap, "Might be that Tali is feeling very ungenerous. And boy, what would she say if I told her that one of her subordinates has been oggling her? I can just imagine her increasing the punishment...that's of course, if I tell her. But I might be generous myself and remain silent. How about it, Ken? You get to work and stop oggling my girlfriend, and you do what you're told?"
"Y-yes co-comander," Ken stuttered, snapping his look back to his food, leaving a scared expression on his face. Gabby only guffawed, slapping his back and sending a wink in Marcus' direction. He only smiled back. He turned back around and stabbed his meat with his fork, look dropping on Mordin and Lia as they conversed.
"Do you really still believe that, doctor?" Lia inquired, the quarian seeming angry with something. And as the salarian responded, Marcus could tell Mordin was just as angry, if not more angry.
His look snapped towards his assistant, "Of course! Simulations always lead to war scenarios! Can't avoid it! War, death, destruction! Krogan naturally violent! Cannot meddle with facts! Had to sterilize them, keep them secured, ensure they harm noone else!"
"But its genocide! You're talking about exterminating an entire species!" Lia shouted back, unwilling to give into the professor's logic.
Mordin slammed his palm on the table, pushing his plate away, their argument now echoing across the room and gaining the attention of all the crew members in the vicinity, "Not genocide! Sterility plague! Lowers birth rates substantially and imposes zero population growth policy! Not genocide!"
Marcus decided to step in at that moment, "It leads to genocide, Mordin!"
Lia and Mordin's attention snapped towards the spectre, both of them looking angry, but for different reasons. Lia seemed to melt under Marcus' gaze but Mordin wasn't giving in, "Impossible. Genocide avoided!"
"Genocide is the only resolution of the genophage!" Marcus dictated, "You've subjected the krogan to a slow and painful death as a species! How many krogan mothers have to extract dead children from their wombs almost everyday!? How many piles of the children who never lived pile up on Tuchanka everyday!? And the more children who never lived, the closer the krogan get to extinction! Disgracing the krogan was bad enough; but subjecting them to a slow death; tell me Mordin, where is the morality in that!?"
Mordin wasn't going to give up that easily, "Morality never mattered; only what was logical! Couldn't let krogan continue as they did; they would have bred, out of control! Think of consequences; saved krogan species from self-destruction! Krogan defeated on Tuchanka, genophage deployed afterwards. But what if genophage never deployed? Krogan would have bred out of control; no limits, no containment. Overpopulate planet; only outcome is war. War, war, and more war! Would have wiped themselves out! Genophage put their breeding under control; stabilized population!"
"It might have been like that thousands of years ago!" Marcus shouted, frowning heavily as he nodded to Lia, turning back to Mordin, "But now its killing them! If you've wounded a varren and its slowly bleeding to death; do you put it out of its misery, or do you let it suffer? Your people chose the latter Mordin! Your people will be responsible for murdering the krogan people!"
"So be it!" Mordin practically snarled, "Krogan violent thugs and brutes! Murderers, outcasts, warmongers! Galactic peace at serious risk if genophage not deployed. Second Krogan Rebellions. Krogan dropped asteroids on planets in rebellions. Krogan developed super biotics! Krogan developed weapons to blow up planets! That kind of might would have overrun galaxy! Genophage was the only option! Wouldn't listen to reason; do not understand peace! Had to stop them; were desperate, genophage only solution!"
"They're only violent thugs because that's what the genophage reduced them to," Marcus countered, fixing the salarian with a glare and giving the doctor pause, "Hope is needed for every species Mordin; hope for a future. Even the krogan. But what have the krogan got to look forward to in their future? Piles of dead children? A life spent in nuclear ruins and wastelands? A life where they must tear each other apart just to stay alive? What kind of future is that Mordin? You've taken away the one thing ever species needs; hope. And without hope, people go mad! The krogan sell themselves as mercenaries and kill because they have nothing left to do."
"No choice," Mordin mumbled, speaking his next line louder, "Only option. Had to do it. Turians deployed it. Had to think of galactic peace...had to save galaxy...from the krogan. Just as you must defeat the Reapers."
"That comparison is unfair and you know it," Marcus growled, "The krogan aren't sentient machines that wipe out all life every fifty thousand years. The krogan have emotions. The krogan aren't pure evil. When the krogan kill, they do it for a reason. The Reapers don't; they wipe out all organic life because they think us below them. And for all the things they did, I wouldn't wish the genophage upon them. I fought with a krogan Mordin; not Grunt, but a close friend of mine, a man I call brother. You met him on Virmire; his name is Urdnot Wrex. He cared for his people; you saw me talk him down."
"Met him again on Tuchanka as well," Mordin replied, sniffing, "Do not see point of this."
"The point is that the krogan aren't all violent thugs and brutes," he replied, "Wrex is a friend of mine, and he's always had my back, even if he couldn't do it now. You saw what he was doing on the krogan homeworld; you saw him uniting the clans to fight the Reapers, and you saw that he wasn't doing it just for the purpose of war; but of peace. He wants to give the krogan hope again; something the salarians and the turians took away from them."
"Commendable goal," Mordin declared, inhaling, "But Urdnot Wrex not majority of krogan."
Marcus scoffed, "And so you must condemn an entire species to a slow genocide based on what a few might do. The krogan deserve a cure; they've suffered enough already. Haven't they? Don't they deserve a real chance at life? Didn't you say yourself that you kept Maelon's data on the promise that it might be used 'someday?'"
Mordin sighed, looking blankly at his plate in defeat. Lia watched him, as if demanding an answer. It took a few minutes, but after a while, the salarian finally pushed it away and stood up, eyes meeting Marcus', gaze sad, "Will think on what you said, Shepard. I do not believe what Salarian Union did with the krogan was wrong; but...maybe right. Genophage gone on too long. Will...think on what you've said."
Mordin then spun around and left, disappearing as he entered the elevator and the doors shut behind him. Marcus turned back around and matched Lia's gaze, who had apparently chased after the salarian, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He sighed, turning back to his chicken and laying his fork on the table.
"And suddenly I'm not hungry anymore."
"Shepard?"
He turned around to see Liara standing nearby, still wearing the armoured labcoat she insisted on wearing everywhere. Ever since joining the crew of the Normandy to be safe from the Shadow Broker, Liara had not demanded much; a simple sleeping pod had been all she had wanted and after that she had made herself scarce, occassionally joining Samara in the Starboard Observation Deck and working while the justicar meditated. This was the first time he had spoken to the asari since escaping Illium.
We had done it to keep ourselves safe; how foolish we were to think that we'd be safe on the Migrant Fleet. There is nowhere you can hide from these assholes.
The Liara T'Soni he had known two years ago was all but dying, with only her shy personality surviving, and even that was being hidden under a machine like persona that was quickly consuming her. He remembered her when he rescued her from Therum; young, shy, scared and only a meagre archaelogist without any combat experience. It was obvious that his death, and the quest to save his body from the Collectors, had significantly changed her.
Now she was an information broker; almost on par in skill with that of the Shadow Broker that she was trying to bring down. This Liara was paranoid, ruthless, incorruptible, powerful and determined. It was scary; her uniform had turned from a torn civilian cloth to a fully armoured white labcoat. He didn't know whether to dislike the person Liara had become and mourn the person she had been, or admire what she had become, and miss the person she once was.
He nodded for her to sit down, and she did just, the man watching as she sat down. He had been angry at her for getting them involved in this mess, especially what it had almost ended in Tali's death at one point, but he could understand the intentions. Liara was on a mission to rescue a lover she thought long dead, and destroy the biggest necessary evil in the galaxy. But it didn't mean he liked it.
Despite her change in personality, Liara was largely the same in appearence as she had been two years ago. Her skin was smooth and light blue, and her features looked alot like that of a young child. She was beautiful, to put it lightly, and although he found Tali the most beautiful woman this side of the universe, there was no denying how young and pretty Liara was. Her eyes even...they looked so full of innocence.
She turned to face him, a look of exasperation on her face, "Shepard, I need to speak with you. Its important."
He hoped it had something to do with finding the Shadow Broker's headquarters. The sooner they took down that piece of shit, the sooner he could focus his attention back on preparing the galaxy for the Reapers and dealing with Cerberus. He was sick and tired of having to look behind his back constantly to see if there was some mercenary read to empty a bullet into the back of his head.
His reply was curt and to the point, "What is it?"
His hopes were answered, "Its about the Shadow Broker; one of my contacts on Illium, Sekat, sent a message to me through encrypted transmissions. He says he has found the coordinates of the Shadow Broker's base of operations, but it seems the Broker struck first. Sekat was about to set a meeting point when the refinery he was at exploded. Shadow Broker soldiers have the place surrounded and the police are having a hard time getting inside. We need to extract Sekat if we want a chance of finding the Broker and ending this!"
"About damn time, if you ask me," Marcus cursed, pushing his plate away for a final time, "I've been wanting to end the Broker since that cowardly attack on Illium. Where's the meeting point?"
"A Eldfell-Ashland Refinery on Illium," Liara replied. Marcus was skeptical, as this could easily be a trap, but he wasn't going to lose a lead like this. But if a refinery had been blown up...Samara might be interested in this.
"I'll have Joker set a course," the spectre declared, "I'll bring Tali and Samara as well."
Liara gave him a nod of affirmation before standing up and turning to leave. Before she could, he grabbed her arm and turned her towards him, an angry look on his expression, "Can you not sit down and talk to me for a few minutes? You've barely looked me in the eyes or spoken a word to me since we escaped Illium."
"We don't have time for conversation," Liara bluntly shot back, ripping her arm from his grip as she took a step backwards, "I have to find out how to deal with the Broker! I have to save Feron!"
"We've got three days before we reach that refinery," the spectre declared, inching closer to her, "The least you can do is have a five minute talk with me. I haven't seen you for two years, and the first time I meet you again, you tell me you can't join my crew. Now I get a chance to see how you've been, and you shrug me off. And don't tell me its just me; Garrus and Tali have been telling me the same things! The only person you ever talk to is Samara, and that's about biotic attacks."
"You want to know how I've been? Fine," she snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest as some of the innocence in her eyes melted away, "I mourned you. I cried my eyes out for months after your death. I didn't know what to do with myself. Then I met Feron; I became an information broker, and I eventually loved him. I fought tooth and nail to keep your body from falling into the Shadow Broker or the Collector's hands, and then I hand you over to Cerberus, an organization you despise. Then I think Feron dead and I live the rest of my life in a office. So yeah, my life is pretty great."
He shook his head, "You don't have to take it out on me. I don't hold any grudges over you about Cerberus; you did what was necessary to bring me back. And now Feron is alive, and you have a chance to rescue him! But we're your friends Liara; we fought Saren together, I rescued you on Therum! The least you could do is at least talk to me."
"I can't do that Shepard," Liara whimpered, pulling away from him, "I've lost too much already. I've got work to do, you should get some rest."
He moved to grab hold of her arm again, but she was already again, racing towards the Starboard Observation Room. He stood there, features blank, not knowing what to think. She won't even talk to me. The Liara I knew...is she truly gone? What have I created?
Because she wasn't Liara T'Soni.
She was what he engineered her to be.
{Loading...}
October 31, 2185
1420 hours.
Chieftain's Quarters, Urdnot Camp, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka.
Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Chieftain's Adjutant Urdnot Wreav.
Life for Wrex wasn a dull affair; or at least, now it was. Every hour of every day of every week of his life was now spent listening to krogan warlords drone about 'traditions' and 'sacrilege' while he would occassionally get a message from the Council CDEM garrison in orbit. It was times like this he wished he could leap out into the Wastelands and gun down hordes of varren, klixen or even fight the rachni again. Or geth. Or Saren. Or blow up a Reaper.
Damn it; you're getting too bloody nostalgic. Wish I could have left with Shepard; all this politics is getting to me. I'd rather be killing off Collectors than talking with these idiots. But from what he was seeing all over the extranet, Shepard had already passed through the Omega 4 Relay and brought about the extinction of the damn insects. Good riddance. Those things were nothing but trouble. Hard to forget the amount of krogan they've abducted.
The Normandy was alot more accomodating than Tuchanka, that much was sure.
Tuchanka was still the nuclear rubble it had been when Shepard left a month ago. Vast megacities built by the Ancient Krogan, now razed to the ground by nuclear fires that had burnt themselves out thousands of years ago. Vast, desolate wastelands teeming with Tuchanka's native wildlife; varren, klixen, and thresher maws. And all over the planet, blossoming heat ruled, with krogan clans battling for supremacy on a world rife with a sterility plague slowing eating their race bite by bite.
It was a children's playground. A radioactive, vicious Children's playground that was just as likely to consume you as it was to house you.
In other words, Tuchanka was no friendly planet. And neither was its people.
Wrex sat on the edge of his massive stone bed, the krogan preferring hard surfaces rather than the softened surfaces that fleshies preferred. Blanket were unnecessary on a planet like Tuchanka; the sun was always baking, and the nights offered no safe haven. It was home for krogan, but other fleshies? They wouldn't last a week. Maybe the turians...but not many others. There, he sat, listening to Wreav drone on as he paced the length of his quarters, babbling his mindless nonsense about 'giving in' to the clans, and 'giving them the bloodshed they rightfully deserve.'
Wrex paid attention of course, as was his duty as Clan Chieftain and Arbiter of the Clans, but it didn't mean he had to enjoy it. His look was that of a bored soldier with nothing to do, nothing to kill, and therefore was a mindless husk without a duty. The krogan clan chief would give anything to enjoy the feel of a claymore shotgun in his hands again, charging relentless hordes of enemies as he shed their blood...unity and hope was good and all, but it was nothing to the bark of a weapon as it fired and chewed up your enemies.
"This peace won't last forever!" Wreav insisted, continuing his frantic pacing, "You must appease them! They deserve their vengeance! We must begin to seek a cure for the genophage and, once acquired, we must burn Sur'Kesh and Palaven to the ground in revenge for what they did to us!"
"I don't have to appease anyone, Wreav. Something you seem keen on forgetting," Wrex spat, standing up to his full height and easily towering over his blood brother, "I will run their clans into the ground if I have to, but I will not be returning to the krogan to the ways that got us into this mess in the first place. We will rise from the ashes; but we will not be the violent warmongers we once were. Our militaries will return to their former glory, but this time their guns will be pointed at the most powerful enemy imaginable; the Reapers. They are all that matters. Besides, you've already appeased them, haven't you, Wreav?"
Wreav tried to play the confused one, "I don't know what you're talking about, Wrex."
Wrex rolled his eyes, sighing, "You insult me by not asking for my sanction, and now you further insult me by denying it," in a flash, Wrex's head rammed into Wreav's, causing the krogan to reel backwards in barely concealed pain, roaring his own, meek defiance as he shrunk back from his stronger brother, weakening under Wrex's blood red glare.
"You know very well what I mean Wreav," Wrex continued, sending a fist flying into Wreav's gut, sending him further back, "I'm talking about the salarian that Urdnot Torsk had abducted and pushed into a varren pit? The same salarian that said varren then feasted on while he was still alive?"
Wreav gulped, standing back up fully, as if gaining some of his courage back, "What Torsk did was out of my control. Besides, we did it for fun!"
"For fun?" Wrex growled, grabbing Wreav and pulling him within inches of his face, "You call feeding an innocent civilian to varren fun? How about I let the salarians put you in a wood chipper and we'll see how fun they find that. I know I'd find it quite amusing."
Wreav looked flabbergasted, "You cannot possibly be-"
"Tell Urdnot Torsk that if he does that again, I'll have him fed to Kalros," Wrex blatantly declared, "He's a valuable warlord, but I will not tolerate his insolence here. He will follow my command or I'll sweep him out of the way. We need all the allies we can get when the Reapers arrive, and the thing he just did? That loses us allies. Every ally we lose is an ally not standing by our side when the Reapers attack."
"You and these Reapers," Wreav scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, "You've spent too much time with this human, Shepard. He's rotting your brain cells with his stupidity and delusions of god machines. I don't believe these Reapers even exist."
"Then you're a bigger fool than even the Council. Or Udina," Wrex snapped, smiling inwardly at the added joke. Never like that human ambassador. Too slimy and shady for my liking. "You've been spoon-fed propoganda, and from the Council no less. I've fought a Reaper, and I know damn well they exist. They're coming for us, and if the krogan aren't united, they will take us apart piecemeal."
"Ha! These Reapers are just machines!" Wreav guffawed, "Even if they do exist, let them come! We'll wipe them out!"
"You're the dumbest pyjak I've ever had the displeasure of being born a brother of," he grabbed Wreav's head and, once more, pulled him close, his voice a low, predatory growl, "These Reapers don't show pity or mercy, Wreav. I've seen what just one of them did to the Citadel Fleet, and the Alliance Fifth Fleet, and that's nothing compared to what thousands of them will do. You think fighting them will be easy? They call them sentient starships for a reason, you ingrate. Every single one of them is a thousand times your size, dwarfs anything we have, and will most assuredly wipe us out if we do not take a stand. The Reapers are beyond our comprehension, Wreav. That's something you can't bloody understand."
"Then make me understand," Wreav snarled, but Wrex just let go of him, moving away with a grin on his face as he sat on the bed.
"That's not something that can be done. Not for dumb pyjaks like you," Wrex declared, sighing, "Now please, leave me be and tell the clans my terms. They can accept them or challenge me to combat; the latter of which won't end well for them, assure them of that. Now be gone."
Wreav huffed like a spoiled child before marching out of the krogan's quarters, door sliding shut behind him and locking. Wrex exhaled as if he had just been released of some tight hold and immediately opened his omni-tool, moving to see what was going on in the galaxy. But when he did, he saw that Grunt, Shepard's new krogan and now a new member of Clan Urdnot, not to mention the second to defeat a Thresher Maw in the Rite, had sent him a message. Frowning, he opened it.
To: Urdot Rx.
From: UrdOt GRnt.
Subject: ShepHeRd.
Cheeftan, I hve cum to the concluezon that ShepHERd iz find ing goooooD fits.
We are current ly fitting the Shado Brokeher, and he is a powherfull eneme. We are now goinG TO illeum to hellp sum workhers at a reefine-ery and find a man named Sacat. It will be glore-eous. I will. enjoe the fit. Wish you cud b here.
From: UrdOt GRnt.
To: Urdot Rx.
Wrex sighed, laughing at the krogan's illiteracy. He's still just a few months old anyway. So instead of reading the message, he set his spell check into correcting it all before he read it. This time, properly.
To: Urdnot Wrex.
From: Urdnot Grunt.
Subject: Shepard.
Chieftain, I have cum to the conclusion that Shepard is finding good fights.
We are currently fighting the Shadow Broker, and he is a powerful enemy. We are now going to Illium to help some workers at a refinery and find a man named Sekat. It will be glorious. I will enjoy the fight. Wish you could be here.
From: Urdnot Grunt.
To: Urdnot Wrex.
Wrex widened his eyes at this revelation and immediately shot up from his seat on the bed, deactivating his omni-tool. That's it. I can't take this anymore. First Geth, then Collectors, now he's fighting the Shadow Broker? I am not missing this fight; not for all the politics on Tuchanka.
Without a single moment's pause, he reached under his bed and pulled out his claymore shotgun, along with a bandolier of thermal clips and grenades. He also picked out his favourite heavy pistol; the Carnifex Hand Cannon, and slid it onto a holster on his hip. He lowered his claymore in lower parry in his grip, strapped his bandolier across his chest, and marched outside, a massive grin on his face.
Time to catch a ride to Illium.
{Loading...}
November 1, 2185
1446 hours.
DARK SPACE.
NAZARA.
"They have failed. Shepard proved stronger and more arrogant than we foresaw. Those which the organics call 'Collectors' have been destroyed. They have failed. Assuming direct control did not alter the balance and Shepard is starting to come a vanguard for others to follow. This changes nothing."
Another Reaper's voice, that belonging to Vanguard, one of the smaller of the Reaper brethren and born from a species called the Inusannon, echoed through the dark space to join with Harbinger's.
"Shepard is a threat that must be dealt with. We are Nazara. We are eternal. These organics are but bacteria."
Another voice, belonging to Oblivion, a Reaper of the same type as Vanguard, and born from a species called the Rumma'pa'cal, joined in with Vanguard's, programs echoing in agreement.
"Sovereign-Nazara was destroyed by Shepard; it is our duty to avenge our brethren."
Harbinger's impatience echoed throughout the massive Reaper fleet.
"These are the emotions of organics. Vengeance is a foreign concept; not one we embrace. Sovereign did its duty and failed. We will not avenge its programs, merely continue its purpose. We are the chaos on organic evolution. Shepard will be stopped, but not by us. Forces have been set in motion by others. Ascension will befall this prick of a galaxy, and there is no way Shepard can stop us. We are their salvation. They will learn to embrace their fate."
Vanguard was quick to be done with it, "Very well. We accept this. I am the Vanguard, the Voice of the Reapers. Organic civilization will meet its end."
Oblivion's voice disappeared as well with a leaving pass, "And I am Oblivion, Destroyer of Hope. I will obliderate all that stands before me. Shepard will die, whether at their hands, or mine. Ascension will be wrought."
Harbinger was left to the silence of its own thoughts, with Vanguard, Oblivion and the rest of his fellow Reapers remaining silent, simply watching, patiently, as the Milky Way Galaxy got ever closer. But more importantly, the familiar sight of a pulsing blue mass relay, but mere weeks away.
"Nothing will stop our arrival. We are coming. Our numbers will overwhelm the galaxy, and will override feelings of hope, resistance and confidence. They will weaken and be harvested. They will claim war, but to us, it is a harvest. An extermination. Those who do not accept the salvation we bring will not ascend. They will not live to join us; or to become the next of our brethren. Shepard, you cannot stop us. The time of your resistance is at an end. Your galaxy will fall. You will fall. Your species will fall. Those you cherish so much, will fall. It is inevitable."
The Alpha Relay was growing ever closer, and soon, the Reapers would pass through it, and destruction would rain.
"In the end Shepard, we will be victorious. The cycle cannot be broken. It has been like that for billions of years. We are the Harbinger of your salvation, and you will be the first of many to experience a true rebirth...in Reaper form. We have never lost. Never succumbed. In the end, you will all die. And now, your time will arrive."
"We are Harbinger. And you cannot stop the Arrival."
And with that, he sent a signal through the galaxy and into the system the organics called the Bahak System. And there, deep inside an asteroid, a Reaper artifact roared to life.
{Loading...}
November 1, 2185
1503 hours.
Refinery Entrance, Eldfell-Ashland Refinery, Nos Astra, Illium.
Justicar Samara, Information Broker Liara T'Soni, Chief Engineer Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, Commander Marcus Lee Shepard.
Samara had not expected to return to Illium so soon after leaving it, but it seemed that nothing was ever to schedule on the Normandy, and therefore the justicar found herself on Illium, wondering Nos Astra's streets once more. Samara loved Illium no more than she loved Omega, the place being a magnet for crime, and worser still, or at least for the criminals themselves, a magnet for someone like a justicar.
Their skycar had landed a few meters back and the four of them now approached the refinery at a brisk pace, weapons drawn and raised. Marcus was, of course, in his Terminus Armor, shouldering the Revenant LMG once more as he pushed forward, biotics on standby. On his left was Liara, her Tempest SMG raised, the asari's pose confident, while Tali moved forward on her right, her odd choice of shotgun being an obsolete Armageddon model, but when she asked why the quarian chose the weapon over her plasma shotgun, she simply replied that it was 'time to bring on some nostalgia.'
Samara simply moved up behind them, her own vindicator assault rifle primed and on her back, but as always, the justicar preferred to stick to her biotics, as most justicars did. In most cases, her biotics proved more effective and reliable than her own weapons, proving that they had just become another part of her body; like using an arm or a leg.
She turned her gaze to look up and her pose became more seriousness, her code kicking in for now as she highed the burning building; that was why she was here, right now. Many workers had been hurt or killed by that explosion, and her code dictated that she must protect the innocent. Many claimed that her justicar code, even her own people, was far too harsh in this regard, as the code dictated that 'a justicar must act upon her gut and not the evidence. If a murderer has murdered, you do not question if there is evidence to support it, you simply stop them before they can bring further harm.' It was one of the reasons why justicars had such a bad track record and usually stuck to asari space.
Flames spewed out of the top of the refinery, great plumes of dark smoke erupting from the top like clouds of black, corrupting the beautiful, purple sky with its toxic fumes of death. The heat could be felt from all the way over where they were, with Nos Astra's Fire Department fast on the scene, only to evade missiles as the Shadow Broker's mercs kept them at bay.
How could Sekat be in that building and still be alive? The idea baffled her. The refinery appeared to be completely in flames, with only the upper levels having survived, and the Shadow Broker's soldiers seemed to be occupying the roof, so the likelihood of any survivors on the lower levels was minimal at best. Still, it would not do to let innocents die, despite the odds. Another part of the justicar's code that demanded to be satisfied.
A shot tore through the street and impacted Shepard square in the chest, kinetic barriers flickering as they sparked into action. He shouted, ordering them into cover as he fired a burst in the general direction of the shot before diving into cover himself, barely avoiding a second burst of gunfire from the same area.
Out of hiding came three mercenaries, but they weren't the Broker's typical soldiers; they were Blue Suns; they'd recognize that blue and white armor from anywhere. Two turians and a batarian. But why would the Broker send inadequate mercenaries to do his dirty work when he has a private army of better-trained soldiers at his command? Maybe he thinks he has drawn too much attention to himself by using his own soldiers, and has decided to go for the more low-key attack style. Intelligent.
She came out of cover and watched as Liara picked up one Blue Suns centurion, a turian, and tossed him into a wall with her biotics, the man's bones snapping from the impact and causing him to fall back down to the ground lifelessly. Activating blue tech armor, the batarian charged forward, firing blindly, unaware of the bead that Shepard was bringing down on him.
A biotic flare slammed into the batarian, flowing apart his tech armor. Panicking, he moved to raise his avenger, only to have Shepard slam into him at full speed, the spectre appearing in a bright blast of light before he rammed his rifle into the batarian's mouth and squeezed the trigger, blowing his head clean off his shoulders.
The third and final Blue Suns merc tried to turn tail and retreat, only to run into Tali, the turian running right into her at such a position that her shotgun was already up and waiting, now jabbing into his chest. She pulled the trigger and watched as the turian literally flew backwards, his intestines and blood rolling along the flight path of his body before it came to a stop at their feet.
Marcus sniffed, seeming barely fazed by the battle, "Blue Suns mercenaries; didn't think I'd be encountering these assholes again anytime soon. Was sick and tired of fighting these people when I was fighting the Collectors; I don't need to be fighting more of them."
"At least they're not the Broker's professional bunch," Liara remarked, "They'll be easier to kill."
Samara shot the asari a glare, not liking how the information broker had so casually thrown the idea of killing about like it was the norm. Yet again, on the Normandy, it pretty much was. Still, I will have to keep a watch on this young one. She is of a ruthless bunch, to which the code has no tolerance for.
The group pushed forward and did not encounter any further Blue Suns resistance; they most likely thought they had been dealing with an Illium Tactical Response Team, and not the elite operatives now approaching the refinery: a mistake on their part. As they moved forward however, Samara's omni-tool beeped and, seeing as there was no hostiles at the present moment, she opened it, displaying the information packet she had been sent.
It took her a full six minutes to review all the info, and it left her completely bewildered. No, she couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true. Not her. Not now. Why would she do that? Its...its not like her at all. But the evidence was there, as the anonymous source had sent, and there was no denying it. The poor child. I cannot believe I have to do this. That she would do such a thing...
The code demanded sacrifice at this very moment. It demanded justice.
And just like that, she almost teared up, omni-tool deactivating as her biotics charged and she looked up, eying her target, the criminal she now had to kill, fury entering her eyes.
You betrayed us.
You betrayed Shepard.
You betrayed the Normandy.
And for that, you must die.
I'm sorry, Shepard. You will come to understand.
And without further hesitation, Samara leapt forward, homing in on her oblivious target.
{Loading...}
November 1, 2185
1503 hours.
Refinery Entrance, Eldfell-Ashland Refinery, Nos Astra, Illium.
Chief Engineer Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, Information Broker Liara T'Soni, Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Justicar Samara.
It had all happened to quickly. So suddenly. She had never seen it coming; noone could have. One minute she had been storming towards the refinery, ready to liberate it from the Blue Suns besieging it, ready to save the workers inside, and most of all, ready to rescue Sekat and locate the Shadow Broker, so they could finish this battle once and for all.
And the next she was flying through the air, a massive force of brutality and biotics slamming into her back and sending her flying forwards, shotgun ripped from her grip by the sudden force and sending her slamming into the ground, completely and utterly winded as she tried to dry-heave in any air she could. She rolled onto her back and her eyes widened in shock.
Her attacker was Samara. And the justicar now stood over her, approaching at a steady pace. She had no idea what to think. Has she...has she betrayed us? No...no! That's not like Samara at all! She swore allegiance to Shepard! Was she an agent for the Shadow Broker this entire time? Keelah! Why is she attacking me!?
"Samara, why are you-" Tali was preparing to say, but only managed to finish with a gurgle and a couch as Samara's hand clenched around her throat, causing the quarian to try and uselessly claw at her hand. Defend yourself you pitiful woman!
No, its Samara! She must have a reason for this! If I try and reason with her...
Samara's hand clenched and the other hand raised up in a biotic fist, the justicar's eyes filled with vehemence and pent up fury. She's...angry? What did I do to deserve this? Why is she attacking me!?
"Samara, enough!" Marcus practically growled and she desperately tried to look over at her mate, but Samara's hold wouldn't let her turn, only kept her in place as the justicar seemed to lower her fist slightly. She gulped, only wanting to see Marcus' eyes so that she knew everything would be okay. Am I going to die? No, I have to do something! Anything!
"She is a traitor Shepard," Samara growled back, fist raising once more, "I am only doing this out of great reluctance, but she has turned on us. I must do this."
Traitor? But I would never betray...who the hell gave her that idea? She served alongside me; even if someone lied, how could she believe that so quickly? Something can't be right! No! No, this isn't right! Something's wrong! Who could have possibly-
"Are you insane?" Marcus shouted, placing an arm on the asari's shoulder, "Tali would never betray us! I've served with this woman longer than I've known you! I demand to see evidence, Samara!"
"You want evidence? Very well," Samara growled, her omni-tool powering up at her voice command and showing Marcus a large cache of information, "Information from an anonymous source proves that Tali was in contact with the Broker the entire time. She was the one who disabled the Rayya's communications and defenses; it makes sense, only Tali would have the expertise to do such a thing. Then she made it out to be that she was innocent; besides the fact that noone would suspect the Normandy's Chief Engineer! She is a liar and a traitor!"
Samara's burning gaze evaporated and she turned to Tali, calm and cold replacing the fire in her eyes, "Tali'Zorah has betrayed all of us; your mate has been lying to us this entire time."
Tali looked up and met Marcus' gaze, which was looking at her in pure shock and betrayal. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she shook her head, "That's a lie. I would never betray my people like that! P-p-please M-Marcus, you have to believe me. I've been there since the beginning and you know me. I would never-"
"Enough of your lies, Tali'Zorah," Samara firmly dictated, glowing fist raised once more as her hold on Tali's throat tightened, "For your treachery, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, I sentence you to death. You have betrayed your closest friends, your closest allies and most of all, your mate. I was wrong to trust you, we all were, but this will continue no longer. Maybe you find peace in the embrace of the goddess." And then her fist rose, poised to strike down.
"No."
The hand was so sudden, so out of nowhere, but it was there, like a guardian angel. An armoured gauntlet grasped Samara's biotic arm, stopping it mid flight. Samara, surprised, snapped her look up, meeting Marcus' cold eyes as he took off his helmet.
"But commander-"
"I said no," Marcus growled, "Tali is not a traitor."
Samara's surprised gaze turned into a look of anger as she moved to strike Tali again, only to be blasted back by a shockwave of biotic energy from Marcus, sending the justicar tumbling to the side as the spectre assumed a protective stance between him and Tali, the man prepared to defend his mate from the asari justicar. Liara came to his side as well, SMG prepared ready, her friend and mate ready to die protecting her.
No...
Something's wrong...
What made her...?
Then it hit her. The message. The anonymous sender; how could they be so stupid? How could they not realize what the Broker was doing? He was trying to get them to turn against each other, to kill each other, and by using this supposed 'evidence,' he had planned to trick Samara into killing her. It made sense, and Tali would have commended it, if it did not involve making friends kill friends.
Samara was preparing to charge them when she came to her feet, "STOP THIS MADNESS! Don't you see what he's doing!?"
Marcus frowned, turning towards her, "What do you mean, Tali?"
"Yes, speak traitor." Samara stated coldly.
"I am no traitor, because that evidence is a fabrication," the quarian shot back, earning her more confused looks from the three. Sighing, she continued, "Don't you see? The Shadow Broker is toying with us! He's hiding as an anonymous user so that he could trick Samara into killing me, which would then end in Marcus killing Samara! He's trying to get us to pick each other off, one by one!"
Samara shook her head, "But the evidence is absolute."
"And so he'd like you to think," Tali declared, "That evidence is easily conjured up, especially by people as influential as the Shadow Broker. A matter of fact, I bet you that he lured us here for that sole purpose. He ordered the mercenaries to blow this refinery so that he'd find a lure for Samara to come with us. Then all he had to do was send Samara the 'evidence' and let it all work itself out. Don't you see? This was all a trap!"
Silence fell upon the group except for the crackle of flames and sirens in the distance and all they all exchanged glances. Eventually, Samara's stance softened, biotics disappearing as she came to terms with what she was told and Marcus and Liara lowered their own weapons.
"Well fuck," the spectre cursed, standing up, "I can't believe we got played like that. That smart son of a bitch."
"You deserve an apology," Samara stated cooly, approaching until she stood inches from the quarian and Tali found herself subconsciously rubbing the bruised areas around her throat, "I acted rather rashly, which is unbecoming of a justicar. I should have checked the authenication. I ought to have more faith in this crew."
"Damn right," Marcus growled, still not forgiving Samara for her attempted murder of Tali, "But I'm not willing to hold grudges. Now, let's get-wait."
Everyone stopped moving as soon as he finished, all gazes fixed on him as he spoke, "What is it, Marcus?" Tali asked curiously, garnering her a look from Marcus. A look of sudden epiphany.
"Oh shit," the spectre exclaimed, "Remember how you said the Broker's getting us to turn on each other?"
"Yeah..." Liara answered for her, dragging it out for added effect.
"Well I don't think that's limited to us," he trailed off and picked up his helmet, slamming it onto his head as he locked it in place and ran in the opposite direction, "Shit! Double time it, back to the Normandy!"
And everybody ran.
"The Shadow Broker was relentless."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"Seeing Samara about to kill you was a position I never thought I'd see myself in. I never thought I'd take up a fist to one of my own crew."
- Marcus Shepard.
"You did what was necessary. And if I had died, you never would have found out about the Broker's intentions."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"True enough."
- Marcus Shepard.
"So does it go from there on?"
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"It got worse. Much worse."
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
My mood is soured at the moment at the announcement that SOPA (America's 'Stop Online Piracy Act') is planning to try and bring down Fanfiction from the internet. You want to help in stopping these assholes from winning and destroying the inspiration of multiple authors? Then stop SOPA.
I know this chapter might seem a bit bland, and there was a scene I was going to add that I'm going to leave out and add in next chapter, but I was kinda...out of it, to be honest. Don't worry though, subsequent chapters will be much better. And we're getting closer to a crucial point in Shepard and Tali's relationship. ;)
Keelah Se'lai!