The bar is all the best kinds of seedy. Just busy enough that it doesn't feel empty, but without the crush of people that makes Joker feel like he's a minute away from a broken something. Good liquor, poured generously, and fish and chips which are both greasy and delicious. Shepard would've hated it. The music's no good for dancing.
It's hardly surprising she's on his mind, given what he's come here to do.
Joker spots the reporter the second she comes through the door, and damn if she isn't more lovely in person than in her holo.
"Margaret Kennsworth, from FCC News. Thank you for meeting with me." It's not Westerlund News by any stretch (Shepard did a fine job of burning that bridge while she was still alive), but the FCC at least has a reputation for fact based reporting. It's not the Galactic Enquirer. Like it or not, this woman is Joker's best chance at getting someone to listen to the Reaper threat.
She's also his best shot at being arrested for treason, but he's trying not to think about that.
"Jeff Moreau. Pleasure's mine." They shake hands across the table and Kennsworth settles in.
"May I record our conversation?"
Images of cell walls and reconstituted food flit through his mind. Though with any luck they'll just kill him. He shrugs. "Do your worst. Though make sure to call me anonymous, a man has to have some plausible deniability."
Kennsworth nods vigorously. "Of course, Mr. Moreau. Let me assure you I would never do anything to compromise the integrity of a source."
Oh fuck, he's got an earnest one. There is absolutely nothing worse than an earnest reporter. He edits his earlier descriptor of 'lovely' to 'bright-eyed and bushy-tailed'.
Wide-eyed innocence might not a great look on her, but Joker's sad to watch it morph to horror as he tells her about the Reapers, about the sure and coming destruction of all organic life.
Kennsworth has worked her way through four drinks by the time he's finished, though Joker doubts it was intentional. He sips at his water, wishing it were something stronger.
"That's a- wow. That's one hell of a story, Mr. Moreau."
"I just told you giant space robots are coming to kill you and everyone you love, I think you can call me Jeff."
"Right, Jeff." She laughs nervously. "I don't suppose you have evidence to back this up?"
He swallows. What he's said already is enough to see him locked up, it will be this next bit that gets him killed. He pulls the OSD from his pocket and lays it on the table.
It contains the footage from Shepard's headcam on Ilos. It's not video he should have access to, and it's certainly not video he should be handing over to a civilian. "That's all I have, but it should be enough. If you can find him, the Turian Garrus Vakarian will be able to verify everything I've said. Used to work C-Sec, no idea where he is now."
"And Commander Alenko, the rest of the Alliance crew aboard the Normandy?"
"Alenko will feed you the party line, though you're welcome to try. Don't go pestering the rest of the crew, they won't know anything I don't and you'll just get them in trouble with the Brass." Joker downs the rest of his drink. "Any of the aliens you can track down, though, they'll tell you the truth."
He pays for Kennsworth's drinks from his omni and stands. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me."
In the end, he meets with Margaret five more times in the coming months. The article never goes to print, though. The footage never sees light of day, and whether that's because Kennsworth has decided he's crazy, or because the Alliance has squashed it, Joker can't begin to guess.
Shepard thinks that Anderson's assistant would have called security on her fifteen minutes ago if not for her uncanny resemblance to the weird composite image in the recruitment holo on the opposite wall. The man's eyes keep flickering between her nose and the thinner one of the holo until she wants to rip his head from his neck.
She'd consider doing just that if not for the waiting room full of supplicants come to beg a boon from their benevolent master. She sighs. Nothing like the machinations of bureaucracy to make a girl feel like torching the whole system.
"Listen." There's a fine line between cajoling and threatening, and a good chance Shepard's on the wrong side of it. "I'm not going anywhere until I speak to Anderson." Deep breaths, Shepard. In through the nose, out through the nose. It's not exactly working, but she can't afford the diplomatic incident that's brewing.
The assistant, to his credit, barely wavers. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but the Councilor-"
The doors behind him cycle open to reveal Anderson himself. "Alright, Shepard. Leave Marcus alone and come in."
A better person would resist the grin and wave Shepard gives Marcus as she sweeps past him. One of the perks of signing on with the terrorists, however, is that no one expects her to take the high road.
She drops the box of dog tags from Alchera onto Anderson's desk. It sits between them, an accusation.
Things have been tense between Shepard and Anderson since they last talked. Sure, she has her Spectre status back, but what good has that really done her? And now she finds out the Alliance is actively stymieing her work?
"Alenko and the other Marines on Horizon, they were back on their feet within thirty minutes of a Seeker attack. I want to know how." Anderson opens his mouth, but Shepard cuts him off. "I swear to God, Anderson, if you tell me it's classified-"
"While you're with Cerberus-"
Anger flushes her face. "Fuck that." Shepard's biotics pulse beneath her skin. "Damn it, Anderson. We shot down a fucking Collector ship! Which had fucking information that we fucking need. But your fucking-"
"Shepard." Anderson says her name in that tone of voice that makes her feel sixteen again. And who is he to say her name like that? He's not her fucking father.
Still, it will do no good to be dismissed as a child. Shepard sucks in a deep breath. Counts to ten. Twenty. "You know as well as I do that it will be my crew jumping the Omega relay," she says. "My crew risking their lives when no one else will. Cerberus colors or otherwise. I need to protect them."
"Putting you back in touch with the Alliance researchers who have that information means removing your KIA status. That makes you a deserter working for a known terrorist organization." The obvious ramifications are less daunting pressed against the suicide mission she's running.
"If I agree to turn myself in after a set amount of time, will the Brass let me have that research?"
"Shepard-"
"Give me any Alliance babysitter you want. All I'm asking for is an antidote that should be available anyway. People are dying, Anderson. By the hundreds of thousands."
"If you turn yourself in, there's no guarantee the Council won't charge you with capital crimes."
"I know."
Anderson paces away from her, towards the wide balcony, skycars streaming past. Shepard's never been much for artificial sunlight, but after Omega, the Citadel is strikingly beautiful. An Asari child splashes in one of the fountains below, and Shepard wishes they were close enough to hear her laughter.
Anderson's hands clench on the railing. Shepard thinks he'll refuse her, and truth be told she has no plan C.
"You'll need a liaison with the Alliance," he says. "There's a Marine, our first human test subject with the Seeker antidote. He's AWOL, somewhere on Omega. Name of James Vega."
"AWOL?" Shepard asks.
"He's a fan of yours, shouldn't give you trouble. Bring him on board, and you'll have your access to Alliance Collector research."
Shepard's not looking forward to minding some desertion-prone child, but it's more than she dared hope to recieve. "Thank you, Anderson. You don't know what this means."
The Councilor turns, face pressed into a grim line. "I know what it means. I just pray I'm wrong. I can't buy you more than four months, Shepard."
"Then I'll make them count." She wraps Anderson in a tight embrace before she goes.
Joker's not aware the Commander is in the bar until she throws herself into the seat beside him.
"You will not believe the day I've had," Shepard says as she steals the olive from his empty glass. If she notices the lipstick print on the glass' empty twin, she doesn't mention it.
He tries to interrupt, but she silences him with narrowed eyes and continues. "Anderson, obviously, but first, there's this freaking Volus-"
Maggie chooses that moment to reappear, two long stemmed glasses in hand. Shepard doesn't notice. "-for that stupid credit chip for- I kid you not- three hours, and when I finally found it..." Shepard's rant peters out as she finally notices the slender woman hovering at the edge of the table.
Joker's never seen the Commander flush quite this shade of red. "Oh." She stands, thighs jarring the table in her haste. "I'm interrupting something."
"Commander, this is Maggie- I mean, Margaret Kennsworth."
"Of FCC News," Maggie says. She sets down their drinks to shake Shepard's hand.
Shepard looks like she's kept her eyes open through a flash bang. "I was just going. Sorry for interrupting."
"Please, Commander Shepard, it's an honor, join us."
Shepard's eyes dart wildly. "I couldn't, really, but thank you." She's gone before Jeff can add his voice to Maggie's request.
Joker blinks.
"Well that was- she seemed more formidable in your stories," Maggie says as she settles across from him. "Are the two of you-" Her dictation program is still safely stowed away, but Joker can see the wheels turning in her reporter eyes.
"What? No!" He tugs the brim of his cap. "That's ridiculous."
"Mmmhmm." Maggie slides one of the glasses over to him, fingernails tapping against her own. "How long have the two of you not been seeing each other?"
"Really, Maggie, if your journalistic impulses are this far off, maybe I should take my Collector war updates to a more serious reporter."
She laughs and throws her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll let it drop. Though who else you think you'd get to risk ruining her career running your crazy stories..."
"Please, with a face like this?"
"Mmm... I'll say."
Flirting with Maggie is like sliding into an old pair of boots, comfortable, even if it's not likely to take you very far. It's too bad, really, that he's her primary source for the biggest story of her life.
Maggie opens her dictation device, and Joker's omni buzzes with a notification that his conversation may be being recorded. He swipes the alert away. Maggie, of course, has ten million questions about the Collectors, the colonies, Shepard's plan.
The bar is nearly empty by the time they finish. Maggie sits back, stretching from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her long legs. "So the Commander's really alive, then?" she asks.
"Either that or a very convincing clone." He means it as a joke, but half out of his mouth he can tell it's going to fall flat. Maggie's face pales. "Kidding. Shepard's definitely back."
"How do you know?"
He drops his gaze to the water-rings which stain the table. How to explain that doesn't come off as two years wish fulfillment? At last he settle for, "You saw her." It's an imperfect answer, but he can't seem to find a better one.
Maggie's lips quirk in a lopsided smile as she closes the dictation program. "You should tell her, Jeff. I bet she'd like to know."
Joker pretends not to understand.
A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter, I appreciate them so much. Also, I know the last few chapters have been fairly negative towards Kaidan, but that's mostly being colored by the POV being Joker's. More will be revealed about their relationship post Alchera, and Kaidan himself will be back at some point. He's by no means a character I hate (in fact he's one of my favorites), but I think the dynamic between Kaidan and Joker is fascinating, and something I wanted to explore.