Chameleon – Kasumi Goto

–

Shepard sighed heavily, his head hanging. "It figures this would happen three days after we finished blinding all the cameras in here."

The stowaway stepped out of thin air. Color and form roiled where seconds before had been nothing, tracing their way along the woman's body until she stood whole, gun still trained on the back of Shepard's skull. There was an audible pop and vapor curled from her lips as they drew into a smirk. Kasumi laughed musically. "Funny how the world works sometimes, isn't it?"

Shepard nodded.

"Hands up."

He complied. Full armor or no, his head was very exposed and Kasumi was well within his kinetic barriers' minimum effective range. She had him trapped and they both knew it.

Kasumi did not consider herself a vindictive woman (not counting Hock, but who could honestly hold that against her?) and yet the sight of the mighty Commander Shepard helpless before her almost made her giggle. It hadn't been easy, stowing away aboard a cutting-edge war frigate. Just keeping out of sight of the crew – let alone the omnipresent AI – had taken all of her tricks. She'd spent most of the past three days behind her stealth fields, until she'd very nearly caught hypothermia from the cooling units. She was exhausted, she was hungry, she was cold, and her legs cramped from sitting still for so many hours, lest she trip a pressure sensor – but in the end the only one who'd even had a flicker of suspicion had been the quarian, and nobody had taken her acute hearing seriously enough to send out a more careful search.

The Normandy was a great floating safe, a marvel of technology in every sense of the word, but Kasumi was… well, Kasumi.

Kasumi wondered why she hadn't tried this before. Four months of running from Cerberus teams – sneaking past and sometimes killing their agents just to keep her head on her shoulders – had taken their toll on her, but now she had their newest team by the throat. Hero of the Citadel or not, she had him.

Kasumi took a slinking step closer. Shepard was not a large man, but he dwarfed her – the top of her hood barely reached his armpit – and yet he allowed her to pull the gun from the clips on his back and kick it safely under the couch. His pistol came next, along with the concealed blade in his right gauntlet. Shepard stayed silent as Kasumi's fingers quested along every armor seal for hidden weapons.

"So… here we are," Kasumi said when she'd finally satisfied herself, grinning as she reached back for the half-empty bottle of bourbon she'd found in the Commander's fridge. Her gun hand never wavered, even as she put the bottle to her lips and tossed back another swallow. Her taste in drinks tended towards the colorful and shamelessly girly, but she couldn't help but enjoy the way the bourbon burned on its way down her throat. Shepard had some taste, anyway (whatever his Spartan quarters might indicate).

"What do you want?" Shepard asked.

Kasumi took her time with another nonchalant sip. "You really need to lighten up, Shep," she said, smacking her lips theatrically. "Beautiful woman shows up in your quarters with a bottle of hard liquor, pats you down, and you act like this? Are you gay or just a tightass?"

Shepard didn't take the bait. "You have a gun jammed in my neck, I don't have a clue what you look like, and I'm tired, so why don't you just tell me what you want or shoot me so we can get on with our lives?"

Kasumi cackled. "How rude of me. Turn around. Slowly."

Shepard was still until she jabbed her pistol a little deeper into his skin. He grimaced as he did as she said, turning slowly until he was grimacing right down the gun barrel.

"Kasumi Goto," Kasumi said politely, inclining her head and grinning ear to ear. "Told you I was beautiful." Shepard had nothing to say to this, but Kasumi didn't care. "We ran into each other a few days ago at the C-Sec offices."

Shepard screwed up his face in confusion for a few seconds before realization dawned. "That was you?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. Kasumi nodded. "Huh. You looked good in a dress."

Shepard's expression had gone from frustrated to mildly bored, and red flags went off in Kasumi's mind. He looked entirely too confident for someone at his enemy's mercy. Still, Kasumi smiled (so sue her. She liked being told she was pretty, even by the leader of the enemy). "I'm sure you'd look great in one too, but that's not the point."

"Then what is? What do you want, Kasumi Goto?"

It was time to stop joking. Kasumi's face fell into the most intimidating scowl she could muster. "I want you to Stop. Following. Me," she growled, pushing the gun into his Adam's apple to emphasize each word.

Shepard just sighed again. "Again with the enemies everywhere. I'm not following you," he said, shrugging. "Didn't have a clue who you are. Still don't, really."

Kasumi's painted lower lip trembled in rage. "Don't lie!" she shouted, finger dancing dangerously close to the trigger. "You're with Cerberus! You've made my life a living hell for months! I'm sorry, okay? Leave me ALONE!" Thank goodness her hood covered her eyes, or Shepard might see how close the tears were to brimming forth.

Shepard's eyes widened at her outburst. "Kasumi… are you in some trouble?" he asked, voice quiet and gun forgotten. His previous nonchalance was gone in an instant. His eyes looked almost… pitying.

Kasumi trembled. Some part of her wanted to just pull the trigger, or maybe slam the pistol grip down between his eyes, but all the same she found the answer spilling out of her. "Yes! Yes I'm in trouble!" she shouted, voice wavering entirely too much to sound intimidating. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even set myself up anywhere without you and your agents trying to kill me!" Her eyes narrowed under her hood, blinking away the moisture. "That's why I'm here, to tell you to knock it off or else I'm going to get really unpleasant." She wiggled the gun urgently. "Call off your dogs and I let you live. Otherwise…"

If Shepard was at all phased by the threat, he didn't show it. "Kasumi," he tried again, "I'm not with Cerberus." He frowned. "Well… I am. Kindof. It's more like they're with me. It's complicated. But whatever you think, we have not been hunting you. I genuinely have no idea who you are."

Kasumi snorted back half of a strained laugh. "Sure," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're from a different Cerberus. And then you just happen to show up behind me in line on the Citadel after chasing me off of Bekenstein. And you just happen to command a Cerberus vessel. And you just happen to be carrying one of their top agents. How stupid do you think I am?"

Shepard grimaced. "A lot of things just happen, Kasumi. But you have to believe me, I don't mean you any harm. Hell, half of the people on this ship would throw you a party if you told them you're on the run from Cerberus." Kasumi frowned, rage dissipating. A terrifying possibility dawned on her. Had she, maybe… made a mistake? She found herself nervously chewing her lower lip as possibilities flickered through her mind. Her gun arm, however, never wavered.

"If you're not after me," she growled after a moment, "then what are you doing?"

Shepard forced a chuckle that came out sounding more like a tired grunt. "It's a long story, Kasumi," he said. Ever so slowly, he lowered his arms to his sides, but Kasumi didn't protest. "But if you've got Cerberus troubles, I will do whatever it takes to clear it up. I promise."

Kasumi hesitated. She'd always considered herself a good judge of character – you had to be, to manipulate people as she did – and Shepard looked honest enough. Still… he was Cerberus. She chewed her lip awkwardly, tasting the stripe painted there. It had been so long since she'd had the luxury of trusting anyone. Keiji had only been dead a few months and already she was so desperate for a little companionship that she was seriously considering opening up to a Cerberus commander? Was she truly so lost that she'd cry on the first sympathetic shoulder she met?

Kasumi didn't have time to think it over, for as soon as her mind was elsewhere, Shepard's hands flashed upwards. In an instant he'd batted her gun aside and twisted it from her grip, pulling its ammo clips out in a single smooth motion before tossing it over his shoulder. Hardly a second later, Kasumi was on her back on the floor, hips pinned under one of Shepard's armored knees.

She gaped uselessly at him in shock for a moment, blindsided by his effortless maneuver. "But don't point guns at me," he said, staring gravely down at her. "Or anyone on this ship. Or I will hurt you."

Some part of her mind leapt to planning. She could activate her suit's inlaid tasers and blast the man off of her with ten thousand volts. She could flash her omni-tool bright enough to blind him for an hour. She could put a bladed elbow into his face, or a foot-mounted tranquilizer into the mesh between his groinplates and hips. She'd been in this situation before and had a half dozen ways to get out.

But then what?

She'd screwed up. Inside, she felt the dam break. Her face fell, followed shortly after by tears. All of her reservations about Shepard evaporated in a flash, and she felt months of anguish bubbling to the surface. "I need help, Shepard," she mewled.

"Tell me."

3 days previously…

–

Kasumi may have been a lowly thief, but at least she was a rich lowly thief.

Only she didn't have any money. At the moment. Temporary setback, at most. Soon to be addressed.

She'd arrived on the Citadel stowed away in a cargo ship's hold, the only way she'd felt assured she couldn't be tracked by Cerberus. The months avoiding them on Bekenstein had been interesting, at least, but bit-by-bit the dogs had worn her down. She'd hated to leave Bekenstein without reclaiming Keiji's graybox – it felt like a failure – but she had had no choice. No matter where on the planet she'd run, no matter how careful she'd been, somehow they'd managed to shut her down one hidden safe house at a time. Her fortune of credits – usually so quick to disappear into lavish accommodations, rare foods, and frivolous bits of opulence here and there – had instead disappeared to paying off the right people for information or under-the-radar transportation. And with Cerberus hounding her she didn't have time to pull off any heists. Her bank accounts had dried up like a Rakhanan aquifer.

Now all she had to her name was a lavish crimson dress and what was perhaps the galaxy's most valuable suit outside of the wealthiest volus cartels.

Today she wore the dress. It was bright red, cut of the finest Thessian silks, and hugged her curves in just the right way. It was cut low, revealing just enough skin to draw attention to the glittering emerald brooch that hung from her neck. Similar golden jewelry dangled from her wrists and ears, while two long silver pins held her raven hair up in an elegant bun. All in all the effect was stunning (if she did say so herself), and Kasumi could feel the eyes watching her.

Normally a bad thing for a thief, yes, but it didn't matter. Kasumi was a master thief, and a master thief knew there was more to camouflage than cutting-edge stealth field generators worth more than a luxury stellar yacht. The Wards were far too crowded to get away, even with invisibility. The trick was to blend, not disappear. The stealth suit was for tricking security. The dress was for tricking people. She could be as memorable as she wanted, so long as she wasn't her.

Case in point, today she was Jila Han, smooth-talking CEO of a private firm that specialized in sub-AI routines, visiting the Citadel for a fancy business gala. The details came spilling out of her mouth without flaw (courtesy of her memory files about the real woman she was impersonating) - C-Sec was investigating her company under baseless accusations of illegal AI research and she needed to get back to their offworld headquarters as soon as possible to fetch the documents she needed to prove her innocence. But of course due to a mixup she'd been put on the no-fly list. She didn't have the time to wait for it to get cleared up – she had to get back now.

The men at the little electronics shop didn't bat an eye as she laid out her fictional biography for them, too busy gawking either at her or at her glittering jewelry. She smiled – she knew she'd already won when she saw how they nodded as she carefully unpinned the broach from her neck.

"This," she said, tapping the golf-ball sized stone in the center, "is an Amaterasu emerald, one of the first. Its market worth to the right buyers is… somewhere around a quarter million credits." She set it on the counter, taking note of how the electronic store's employees' eyes followed her as she bent down. She grinned primly as she reached for her earrings. "These are Earth-made. Twenty-four karat gold. Another thirty thousand." Her bracelets were next – these she said were from Palaven, and worth another easy sixty thousand. She piled all the finery before the wide-eyed men. "A fortune," she concluded, smiling. "And all I want is a ticket out of here."

"Let me get this straight," one of them – a blonde-haired human in a pressed blue blazer said dubiously, "you're offering us almost half a million for a shuttle ticket? What's the catch?" His friends gave him harsh glares, but he ignored them. Smart lad.

Kasumi smiled sweetly. "I'd need to use your identity to purchase the ticket, honey. I'd pose as your sister or girlfriend or something, just long enough to get off the station."

"And what if C-Sec finds out?"

Kasumi laid it on thick, tracing a finger across the back of the man's hand. "They won't. Not fast enough, anyway. You make sure you keep those baubles for a week or so before trying to sell them and nobody will be any the wiser. I'll be gone and you'll… well you'll be rich men."

Now one more sultry glance through half-lidded eyes aaaaannnnd….

Sold.

She watched in silence as the men fingered the jewelry and bickered amongst themselves. Thank goodness she'd been able to find some humans – they were so much easier to trick than the other species. Whether it was the quarians – who could hear her from two hundred meters, stealth suit or not – or the turians – who always assumed the worst and always contacted the proper authorities – it seemed every alien out there had some way to screw her up, and so Kasumi did her best to only rip off her own species if she could help it.

In the end it took a little more shameless flirting, but ten minutes later the men had agreed (their first mistake). They'd stuffed her 'priceless' jewelry into a box and taken it into the back room (their second mistake), and the blonde one had let her use his omni-tool to arrange a shuttle ride (their third mistake). She'd tossed them a suggestive wink as she'd walked away, feeling their eyes follow her out the front door.

Luckily their eyes didn't then follow her much farther. As soon as she was sure she was out of sight she'd doubled back and returned to the shop, this time sneaking in through the employee entrance with the codes she'd mined from the blonde man's omni-tool while she booked the ticket. Even as the mens' voices filtered in from the storefront, talking about what they would do with their newfound wealth, Kasumi crept through the stockrooms. A quick hack of the security cameras showed her where they'd hidden the box of jewels, and Kasumi pocketed them, leaving a nondescript datapad chock full of very suspicious data in their place. It wasn't real intercepted geth communication as far as she knew – she'd lifted it from a C-Sec terminal a few days ago – but it sure looked like it. With a few additions of her own – mostly coordinates of populated systems – it looked positively insidious.

Job done, Kasumi slipped back out of the store.

She felt almost bad heading right for the nearest terminal and anonymously uploading the security footage of the men hiding a box of 'geth intel' five minutes after helping to buy an illegal ticket off the Citadel to C-Sec's servers, but at the end of the day it was them or her, and it sure wasn't going to be her. Besides, it wasn't like she was stealing real jewels back from them – the imitation stones she'd traded weren't worth the box they'd hidden them in.

She took a quick walk down the ward merchant aisles, taking her time admiring all the trinkets the galaxy had to offer those with the money (or fast enough hands), and by the time she'd worked her way back up to the electronics store, C-Sec was already leading away her very unlucky marks in handcuffs.

It was another hour or so before the officers finally left the store, but as soon as they did, Kasumi let herself in. As soon as she'd locked the shop down, she headed straight for the employee fridge (she hadn't eaten in more than a day) and stuffed her face with everything she could find.

And then she stole everything there was to steal.

–

There were a great many things to like about having a graybox. Eidetic memory on-demand had all the benefits of the real thing with none of the sleep-damaging obsession. Want to experience your twentieth birthday party again? Say the tagword and away you go. Don't like the memory of botching the heist back on Melavi? Delete it. Not to mention how much more beautiful the world was when you could revisit your memories of it in spectacular detail. Kasumi's graybox brought her mind all the order of a computer, with folders and files she could open at will, and ever since the surgery she'd adored it every day.

But it did have its pitfalls. Despite all of Keiji's warnings, Kasumi had let her mind grow complacent with its computerized crutch, relying on the graybox for everything from esoteric skills to snippets of catchy songs she wanted to hold onto. It had made remembering things without help nearly impossible. Worse, memories had to be written into the graybox manually – anything Kasumi forgot to specifically save would tend to get buried in the miasma of mere biological memory.

And perhaps most importantly, it was ever so easy to get lost down memory lane. Watching a happy memory was like the realest movie playing in front of her senses, and more often than not she found the real world slipping away behind the fantasy.

Which was exactly what was happening now. The omni-tool on her wrist beeped angrily at her as she leaned back against the shop's desk, eyes closed and mind wandering through her and Keiji's first big heist together for the thousandth time. Some part of her heard it, some part of her knew it didn't belong, but that part was buried under the rush of her mind's perfect reenactment.

"Mr. Nakamura!" Keiji turned at her voice, utterly committed – as always – to his cover. His eyes flitted ever so briefly to the man at her side. To their mark.

Beep beep beep beep beep.

'what are you doing?' he mouthed.

Beep beep beep beep beep.

Kasumi just smiled. 'Improvising'

Beep beep beep beep beep.

The beeping grew louder, more insistent, and memory-Kasumi finally heard it. The dream-memory tore apart in an instant, disappearing with a flash that left Kasumi seeing spots in its wake. She stumbled off of her chair, landing inelegantly in the dust on her backside. Her head swam with the aftereffects of the interrupted memory, and she laid down, boneless, and listened to her omni-tool beep.

It was a minute before she'd regained the presence of mind to see what was the matter. A message, from one of her informants.

-Cerberus frigate landed on Zakera Ward. Watch yourself.-

Kasumi's head cleared in an instant.

"Oh gonads," she muttered, flipping neatly to her feet and brushing the dust off of the back of her dress as best she could. How had they found her so quickly? Was she losing her edge?

Her heart threatened to break out of her chest as she rummaged around the shop for anything she could carry. The shop's electronic accounts were easy enough to clear (who honestly used 'password' as their password anymore?), along with a little hard currency she slipped into a concealed compartment in her sash. Most of the shop's inventory was too large to get away with, but she helped herself to a rack of fancy omni-tool bracelets and, finally, wolfed down the rest of the noodles in the fridge.

Kasumi tried to keep herself calm as she slipped out the back of the shop and merged into the crowd of aliens walking by. She kept her gait purposefully restrained – it did no good to look like she was running anywhere – and held her face in a dignified grin, chin up and eyes lidded like the spoilt rich girl she was dressed as. But inside her mental walls threatened to crumble. She lived an exciting life. She liked the chase. It was as much part of the heist as the heist itself. But ever since she'd broken into that Cerberus base her life had been nothing but trouble. Everywhere she went she was shadowed. A month ago they'd nearly caught her (the bullet-riddled remains of her bed had left a stark reminder just how nearly) and she'd been forced to kill one of the agents. That had only made things worse.

She didn't know how much more she could take. She was out of money, out of energy, out of time. She was smarter than any three Cerberus goons put together, but she was losing the war by attrition. Sooner or later she'd slip up and be captured.

And then she would die.

"Krogan gonads."

–

Kasumi had transformed again. She'd always had an easy time molding her personality to suit the mission, and it was no different now that she was on a mission to save her life. By the time she'd reached the Zakera Ward's main C-Sec substation, she'd whipped up some believable tears and bedraggled her previously-flawless hair enough to look vulnerable. Eyeliner running down her cheeks, she stood in the long line of citizens and played her part, staring despondently down at her fancy shoes and trying to look as unintimidating as possible.

When she was finally seen, it was by a middle-aged blonde man with a weary face and the slightest limp. His mouth was drawn in an impatient frown as he gestured her into his office.

"Sit down. I'm Captain Bailey," he said gruffly as he stared at his terminal screen. "There's no reward for reporting a possible geth infiltrator, so if money's what you're after you've come to the wrong place. Anything else, I'm your man. What do you want?"

Kasumi stared at him and let her lower lip wobble at a calculated rate.

He finally looked up. His eyes widened at the look on Kasumi's face (thank goodness she knew the right calculations). All his gruffness vanished in an instant.

"You alright, ma'am?" he asked, rising from his seat and dropping to a kneel next to her. Kasumi let the tears flow a little harder as she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He fell for it without a hitch, gently patting her back. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Th…there are men hunting me," she sobbed. "I don't know where else to turn!" She laid the Japanese accent from her childhood on thick. She'd long since lost it since leaving Amaterasu, but it was useful now.

"Tell me," Bailey repeated gently.

She pretended to fight for control for a moment before she began. Bailey nodded grimly as she spelled out the fictional biography she'd stitched together on her way to the station. This time she was Izanami Sha, daughter of a recently-outed magnate on Amaterasu. After her father had lost his fortune his family had moved to the Citadel, but they'd been unused to the hustle and bustle of lower class life and they'd fallen on hard times. She had taken to dancing in bars but when her masters had crossed the line she'd thrown a bottle at one of them and run for it. Now she was blacklisted and she was afraid they'd kill her to get even.

"Please," she concluded. "Please protect me."

Bailey was grimacing as he returned to his computer. To his credit, he didn't accept her story at face value, and grilled her on details. Which bar, he asked? Who did she throw the bottle at? How long ago? Anyone else might have been stymied but Kasumi never came anywhere without finding an encyclopedia of information on it to save into her head. Every detail came without pause.

The Black Onus, she said, regurgitating what she judged to be just enough detail. The bottle had hit its owner, a disgraced turian major named Arjon Currusus. Four days ago, on the Onus' weekly half-price night, a well-known place and time for shady dealings.

Bailey nodded and typed a little more with each new detail. When he was finally satisfied, he left Kasumi to sit quietly in her chair, watching him finish his report. It was ten minutes before he spoke again.

"Alright. I'll have some agents investigate your story. The Onus has always been a little rough, but Arjon isn't one to cause trouble with us. We'll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, what do you want us to do? Do you want passage off the station?"

Kasumi shook her head. She would, of course, but she had no doubt Cerberus was watching C-Sec closely enough to know when they shipped people out. She had to find her own way off in secret. "No. I… I can't leave my family."

Bailey nodded grimly, kneading at the back of his neck with one hand. "I understand. Well, you could stay here until it blows over, if you want. Or at one of the other stations, I could call them up. It doesn't sound to me like you need the witness protection program for this. Probably Arjon'll back off once we've had a little talk."

Kasumi nodded gratefully. "Here would be wonderful," she said. "You are… very generous. Thank you so much."

Bailey smiled and waved a hand. "Nothing to thank, ma'am. Happy to help. Now if you could just give me a description of the men you think are after you, I'll get Officer Naara to set you up."

Kasumi nodded. "Well… I don't know exactly," she started, "but they're human, I know that much." She summoned up the memories from the last time Cerberus agents had found her. "Three or four of them. Probably all men. Civilian clothes, concealed weapons."

"Nothing more specific?"

"Two blondes, two brunettes?" Kasumi added, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

Bailey sighed. "Run of the mill generic thugs, then. Don't worry, ma'am. We'll get 'em." He typed a last few lines into his computer.

Good. She could hide out inside of C-Sec for a day or two while she thought up a new plan. Maybe she'd even hitch a ride on one of their equipment shipments to another ward, just to get another step ahead of Cerberus. Kasumi was silently congratulating herself on another job well done when Bailey's intercom crackled. "Uhh… Captain? We've got a situation for you. Problem with the scanners."

Bailey rolled his eyes. "Excuse me," he said. He leaned into his intercom. "I'm seeing someone, Haron!" he snarled. "This had better be important."

"Yes sir, I know sir. It's… it's someone you should deal with personally."

"Fine. Send him in." Bailey's gruff edge returned as the door behind Kasumi slid open. She turned in her chair to see the new arrival.

Her jaw dropped. A human man stepped into the office, a quarian and a turian following behind. He looked harmless enough in his rumpled civilian clothing (though the turian sported a rifle almost as tall as Kasumi was), but his baggy T-shirt didn't quite hide the faded N7 tattoo on his right bicep. Kasumi and Bailey both fell silent. They knew who this was. This man's face had been the one all over the news. Two years was a long time, but not long enough to forget him.

The Hero of the Citadel. The Golden Boy of the Alliance. Commander Shepard.

"…Commander Shepard?" Bailey asked.

Shepard rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his neck. "Yeah… I guess so."

"You really shouldn't just tell people who you are, Commander," the turian whispered from behind him.

"Like it matters," the quarian snapped back. "The scanners don't make mistakes."

Bailey looked like a kid in a candy shop. "I thought you were dead, Commander."

Shepard shrugged. "Your scanners did too. Guess that's why I'm here."

Bailey nodded. "Well let me get that straightened out for you. I just need a moment to finish with Miss Sha, here. If you could just take a seat."

Kasumi bolted to her feet. Shepard was alive! The rumors were true, then.

Which meant the other rumors were true too. He was working for Cerberus. Humanity's oh-so-special hero had come back from the dead to hunt Kasumi down. Gonads. Gonads Gonads Gonads! Could this day get any worse?

"N…No need," she stuttered, edging towards the door. Shepard turned to follow her, a concerned look on his face. "Changed my mind. Thanks for everything!"

"But what about the-" she heard Bailey shout, but she was gone.

–

She didn't go anywhere, ducking instead behind the nearest convenient elcor, who did not react to her presence even when she leant up against him to think. Cerberus was getting closer and she needed another plan. Another way to get by without being seen. She supposed she couldn't use the ticket she'd conned the electronics store employees out of now that she'd turned them in for it already.

It was time to hide. Her mind rattled through a dozen different possible hiding places. People who'd helped her in the past, shelters for the lost and anonymous, crowded squatter communities. They all had their advantages.

She frowned. Who was she kidding? Cerberus was done playing. They'd sent Shepard after her. Shepard, who had held off a pirate invasion on Elysium in his civilian clothes. Shepard, the first human Spectre. Shepard, who had killed Saren and his monstrous ship. He wasn't about to be fooled by a quick costume change. If he was after her it was a matter of time before he found her.

She came to a quick conclusion.

Enough playing. It was time to go on the offensive.

It took her ten minutes to get to the storage lockers where she'd left her real suit, but only a minute to dress. The polymer-fiber catsuit fit over her like a second skin, its dozens of hidden tricks a comforting presence. She always felt like putting on the suit was taking off her identity. Nobody had ever identified her with it on. With it, she was a shadow. Less than a shadow. Nobody.

She left her fancy clothes where they lay, stuffing the stolen omni-tools and credits into her stealth suit's many pockets.

Ten more minutes and she'd caught up to Shepard again, the quarian and turian still keeping watch over him as he worked his way through one of the Ward markets. If he had recognized her back at the C-Sec offices, he hadn't given any sign, though of course Cerberus was well-known for its subtlety. For all she knew he'd already called in the cavalry to apprehend her.

Breaking one of her cardinal rules, she activated her stealth field and tailed him through the crowd. It was always dangerous being invisible in public – she'd learned the hard way that invisibility was not the same thing as invulnerability. One wrong shove and she might create a panic, and that was the last thing she wanted. Shepard would on her in a flash. She would have to be careful. She kept her distance as she trailed behind the Commander and his guards, patching her omni-tool's audio software to pick their voices out of the tumult rather than risking getting close enough to hear for herself.

"All I'm saying," the turian was saying, "is that if you're going to 'revitalize security' you should do it right. What's the point of hiring four thousand new agents if all of them act like that?"

"Bailey seemed to have his head on straight," Shepard said absently, stopping to look at a salarian food stand. Kasumi ducked reflexively behind a neighboring stall, forgetting that she was invisible anyway. She crouched down and crept towards the trio, careful not to tread on anyone's toes.

"Great," the turian continued. "One competent officer in a station of fools. That will help."

"Look who's talking," the quarian interrupted "They were trying to help that poor woman until you scared her away."

"I did not."

"Did too. Probably saw the scars."

"I have it on very good authority that human women like scars."

"Suuuuure they do."

"I'm serious. If I hadn't kept myself quiet on Omega I'd probably have fangirls by now." The quarian just laughed. "Art, extranet journals of poorly spell-checked sexy fanfiction. The whole meal."

The two aliens kept bickering as Kasumi slithered nearer, until Shepard finally turned. "Alright, seriously guys," he said. "I can't take you anywhere. Tali, stop encouraging Mister Fangirls here. Garrus… just stop."

Garrus grinned, his mandibles fluttering. "Aye aye, Commander."

"You two go find some dextro food you like and then meet me back on the ship. I'm going to go see Anderson."

The turian's grin faltered. "Are you sure you want to do that alone?"

"We've been over this. I'm sure," Shepard said. "Besides, I'm gonna need somebody to take this back to the Normandy." He tapped the case of drauch seedflour the salarian attendant had placed in front of him. "Gardner'll faint to see so much decent flour."

Shepard called forth his omni-tool to pay for the flour and Kasumi's invisible eyes widened. Now was her chance.

She sprang into action, darting right between Shepard and his turian friend to duck into the store. A quick few commands to her own omni-tool was all it took to hang up the salarian's sales terminal for a few seconds, giving her the precious moment she needed to tap Shepard's omni-tool.

The seconds dripped by and Kasumi held her breath, eyes flitting from face to face. Had they seen her? Not Shepard or the turian, anyway, and the salarian was far too busy cursing at the frozen machine to think about invisible thieves. But the quarian had a new rigidness to her stance. She'd heard something.

Kasumi knew she'd taken a great risk, but it would all be worth it.

Her omni-tool finished stealing all of Shepard's files and it was time to move again. It was a simple matter to push the salarian's narrow feet out from under him – the spindly alien gave a start and stumbled obligingly onto Shepard –

and a simpler matter yet to slip her hand into his pocket and take the berthing chip the Commander had gotten from the docks while he was distracted helping the salarian up.

Kasumi ran like she'd never run before, ducking through the crowds like a thin wisp of clouds. It wasn't until she was two blocks away that she finally climbed into a dark alley and deactivated her stealth field. She stared down at the chip in her hand, shivering as she popped it into her omni-tool's jack and called it up.

SSV Normandy SR-2, it said. Private bay 94.

She slunk away, unseen.

Presently...

–

Shepard looked tired, but Kasumi looked even worse. Ever since she'd stowed away aboard the Normandy she'd had to remain hyper-vigilant. She'd barely slept, and she'd only managed to eat and drink a few mouthfuls pilfered from the mess in the rare moments when nobody was watching. It had been a very rough few days.

But she hadn't been idle. She'd used that time wisely, testing the ship's defenses, waiting for her chance to strike at the man in charge. It wasn't a simple matter. Shepard kept himself busy. When he wasn't making the rounds on the ship he was holed away strategizing with the turian. He rarely slept more than an hour or two at a time and that, combined with the ever-watchful EDI, made pinning him alone a very difficult task. So she'd watched the rest of the crew, learning everything she could.

And one thing she'd learned was that Miranda Lawson was, bar none, the most dangerous person aboard. Nobody messed with her (aside from Shepard, of course). People spoke her name just a little quieter than anyone else's.

And now Kasumi knew why. Not thirty seconds after she and Shepard had stepped off the elevator in the CIC (Shepard back in his Cerberus uniform and herself relieved of all her weapons – or at least all of the weapons Shepard had been able to find when he'd returned the favor of frisking her) did she find herself staring down the barrel of a pistol.

"Shepard…" Miranda growled warningly, eyes narrowed with deadly intent. Kasumi's face fell.

"Yeah, a little late for that," Shepard said casually. "She's already had me at gun point. Thanks for the backup." He stepped forward and closed a hand over the end of Miranda's weapon, causing her to back up in confusion.

Miranda's eyes widened. "Shepard?"

"No," he said simply, stepping in front of Kasumi.

For a second Miranda just looked gobsmacked before realization hit her and her flawless face twisted into a frustrated scowl. "Shepard…" she said, with a tone of voice suggesting she was talking to a very small child. "Do you have to adopt every degenerate that stumbles into our path? Do you have any idea who that is?"

Shepard crossed his arms. "A woman who got in over her head and is scared to death that Cerberus is going to kill her."

"And for good reason." Miranda said, eyes still staring daggers at Kasumi. "She's a murd-"

Kasumi's eyes widened.

"You're dismissed, Miranda," Shepard said.

"You-"

"You're dismissed," Shepard repeated, his face leaving no room for argument. Miranda lowered her weapon, eyes boring into Shepard's. The woman looked like she might snap and shoot them both at any moment, but Kasumi knew better than that, and indeed, a moment later Miranda stopped smoldering and, turning neatly on one heel, strode out of the room.

"She greet everyone that way?" Kasumi asked, trying to veil her unease. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Miranda scared her.

Shepard sighed. "Sadly, yes." He headed for the door. "Come on. We're going to call Timmy and straighten this out." He stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "EDI?"

"Yes Commander."

"Tell the Illusive Man to get on the line."

EDI hesitated momentarily. "Official policy is not to inter-"

"Tell him to get on the line."

"Yes sir."

Kasumi followed Shepard into a communications room, her apprehension mounting. The room's polished table descended into the floor with a smooth click as Shepard entered, the lights dimming automatically.

"Commander," EDI's voice returned. "The Illusive Man has agreed to speak with you. Please step into the capture field. The QE Array will activate momentarily."

Shepard nodded, unconcerned, and stepped into the holographic-ringed circle in the middle of the room, but Kasumi's mind reeled. She had been too busy hiding to consider the magnitude what she was seeing before, but now it hit her full force. What had she gotten herself into? Commander Shepard, back from the dead? Krogan and turians and superbiotic criminals? A sentient computer? Quantum entanglement linkups to the Illusive Man himself? Some part of Kasumi's mind – the irresponsible part that had led her down the path of professional thievery in the first place – leapt for joy at all the valuable things she could no doubt loot from this ship.

But the rest of her just felt very, very scared.

"W…what kind of mission is this?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," Shepard said, beckoning her into the circle to stand by his side. She shuddered a bit as she stepped through the ring. "But suffice to say it's big stuff."

Kasumi was spared the trouble of answering when the array flickered on. The ring began to shimmer and the light in the room seemed to bleed away. Interlaced images traced themselves across Kasumi's vision, quickly resolving into clarity.

A man (he didn't look that illusive, truth be told) sat calmly before a backdrop of a luminescent nebula, which cast long shadows over his face with its inky green glow. Twin blue pinpricks and the ember of a lit cigarette peeked out from the darkness of the man's face.

"Shepard," he said, smoke curling in front of his lips. "I trust Subject Zero is well in hand."

"She goes by Jack now," Shepard said, "and you and I are going to have a long talk about her one of these days. But that's not why I'm here."

The Man smirked and took another draw from his cigarette. His cobalt eyes flickered to stare at Kasumi, who retracted a bit further back beneath her hood. "Of course not. Care to introduce me to your friend?"

"Cut the act. She says you've been looking for her. I want it to stop."

The Illusive Man paused, stabbing out his cigarette before leaning forward in his chair and flitting his eyes back up to Shepard. "I know of Miss Goto," he admitted at length. "I wonder if you can say the same."

"I know enough," Shepard said. "If Cerberus is chasing her, then I know she's worth protecting."

The Illusive Man shook his head. "Of course," he agreed genially. Shepard said nothing, and Kasumi shrank a little more, sensing the danger in the man's false friendliness. "EDI?" The Illusive Man said.

"Yes, Illusive Man."

"Please declassify operation report Lambda four one eight four. If Shepard and his crew are going to be defending Miss Goto, they deserve to know who she is."

"Yes, Illusive Man. Operation report Lambda four one eight four declassified and uploaded to open-access shipwide network." Kasumi winced.

The Illusive Man leaned back as he withdrew a fresh cigarette, a satisfied look on his face. "EDI," he continued, lips pursed as he lit his cigarette with an old-style flint lighter, "Please summarize the operation report."

"Yes, Illusive Man." The air in front of the Illusive Man came alight with floating diagrams. Kasumi risked a glance up at Shepard, whose expression was as still as iron as EDI began the report. "Operation Lambda four one eight four describes Anubis Cell's efforts to capture the thief Kasumi Goto. Miss Goto is officially wanted in four systems for grand theft and industrial espionage. Cerberus' interest in her stems from her November 2184 raid on a Hephaestus Cell research facility on Caleston. Miss Goto infiltrated the facility's defenses through methods unknown and sabotaged critical regulatory systems, leading to a meltdown of the facility's primary reactor. Total death toll incurred in Miss Goto's attack was fourteen Cerberus agents, mostly maintenance staff attempting to contain the reactor when it exploded."

Kasumi stared guiltily at her toes.

"Confidentially protocols prevent thorough inventory of lost assets," EDI continued, "but among the stolen equipment was a data core containing designs for experimental atmospheric exchangers worth an estimated eighty-four million credits. Total cost incurred in Miss Goto's attack was approximately one-hundred-thirty million credits."

"Does that include opportunity costs?" the Illusive Man interrupted.

"No," EDI said. "Costs reflect stolen or destroyed material assets and research and development costs only. The data core's designs would likely be worth considerably more after implementation on human colony worlds, where they were expected to reduce aeroforming costs by thirty to forty percent and respiratory illness by twelve percent."

"Go on," the Illusive Man said, staring victoriously at Shepard.

"Anubis Cell was assigned the task of capturing Miss Goto and reclaiming the lost data core if possible. Operation Lambda four one eight four has thus far been unsuccessful. Total cost of Operation Lambda four one eight four as of most recent requisitions is four point eight million credits. Total death toll of Operation Lambda four one eight four as of most recent report is four Cerberus agents, three fatally electrocuted by a hidden arc generator while searching one of Miss Goto's accommodations on Bekenstein, and the fourth fatally shot by Miss Goto as she attempted to sabotage their landing craft. As of most recent report, Miss Goto remains at large on Bekenstein."

There was a long, awkward silence. "Does that change anything, Shepard?" the Illusive Man asked.

Shepard grimaced. "Some," he admitted, pointedly not looking at Kasumi, who felt herself shrink a little more.

"We're not the monsters the galaxy seems intent on painting us," The Man said calmly. "Properly used, the data Miss Goto stole would have improved human lives across the galaxy. Instead, she sold it. Perhaps she will satisfy our curiosity and tell us what she bought with the money." His unnerving stare flickered back to Kasumi.

Kasumi cleared her throat. "I threw most of it away. Gave it to an asari art university," she said.

The Illusive Man's stare did not move. It was easy to see he was the sort who never asked a question to which he did not already know the answer.

"…And?"

Kasumi winced. "And a Stradivarius violin… And some asari wine… and a hovercar…"

The Illusive Man nodded. Kasumi felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She couldn't find the strength to look to Shepard, but she could feel his disapproving gaze all the same.

"It's… not as simple as that," Kasumi added quietly. "I try to only steal from people who deserve it."

"And kill them if they stand in the way?" Shepard asked.

"That was an accident," Kasumi mumbled. "I didn't mean to overload the reactor." She refused to look over at Shepard. It was the truth. She hadn't meant to kill those workers. She never meant to kill anyone, not really. It was just a horrible, horrible mistake. Of course, she could hardly say that. What consolation would it be to say she was sorry now? "And I don't waste all of it," she added weakly. "I've given millions away to charities."

The Illusive Man paused, taking another long draw from his cigarette. He didn't deign to respond to her, confident that she'd said enough herself. "So," he said at length. "Shepard. Still want to protect her? It's your choice."

Kasumi stared miserably at her feet during the painfully-long moment of silence, her heart beating madly. She could practically hear Shepard's mind working, deciding if he should help or throw her to the dogs. "Yes," he said eventually, though he sounded considerably less sure of himself now.

The Illusive Man nodded as his gaze rested on Kasumi again. "Very well. I will offer you this deal, Miss Goto. Breaking into a Cerberus base takes a great deal of skill and resources. In exchange for my mercy you will offer these skills and resources – and your unconditional loyalty – to Commander Shepard until he sees fit to release you." He stared darkly at her. "And you will tell me exactly how you found the base on Caleston."

–

Shepard rubbed his forehead as the two of them left the comm room, Kasumi dogging behind.

"I swear, it was an accident, Shepard. I'm a thief, not a murderer."

"We'll see," he said, not looking at her as he pressed the elevator call button. He wasn't buying her story, and Kasumi despaired. How much guilt did he expect her to feel? She was sorry, she really was! Did she need to cry or something to get it across?

"I wouldn't do that," Kasumi insisted, settling for honesty for once. "Not even to Cerberus. It just got out of hand, is all."

"Yeoman Chambers will set you up." Shepard said, ignoring her. "We head to Illium tomorrow. Briefing at eighteen hundred hours. If you need help, stick with the Yeoman or Lieutenant Taylor." Kasumi shrank a bit at the harshness in his tone. Way to go, Goto. Day one and she'd already pulled a gun on her new commander and convinced him she was a killer. Perhaps later she could send a few mail bombs to his family just to really shine up her first impression.

The elevator arrived and Shepard stepped into it. There was a much-too-long pause as she sat there, staring hopefully up at him for some sign of forgiveness. His blue eyes sought out hers and Kasumi thought – just maybe – she saw the curl of a smile on his lips. "You still have that violin?" he asked, voice gruff.

"No. Had to hock it to buy safe passage."

"We'll get you a new one. I think this ship could use a little music."

The doors shut.

–

Kasumi was an expert at people watching. In a galaxy of fantastic technology, of DNA scanners and auto-targeting turrets, of voiceprints and tensor fields, of security VI's and smoke-alloy safe locks, there was still nothing more important on a heist than knowing your target. She couldn't count the number of times she'd had a target with the perfect technological defense fall prey to the right attack on overlooked personality faults. Machines didn't necessarily have weaknesses, but people always did – they were always the weak link in the chain. Whether it was hubris, gluttony, lust, or impatience, everybody had something you could use against them.

It was no different on a ship. Kasumi had already sorted everyone on the Normandy into their respective piles – who to avoid, who to ignore, who to ally with. You avoided Miranda, you ignored Hadley, you allied with Mordin. You stayed the hell away from Jack if you didn't want profanities and/or biotic fields where the sun don't shine. Grunt was safe as long as you watched what you said and never approached while he was eating. Tali was a sweetheart until you'd lost her trust, then she was a dangerous little firecracker. And Gardner, Gardner was king (She'd already gone out of her way to compliment Gardner's atrocious cooking – it was always, always prudent to befriend He Who Makes The Food, evil genius or no). All it took was a little observation, and Kasumi already felt like she fit right in.

But her favorite so far was Yeoman Chambers. Kelly had made an unmatched effort to help her get established, giving her a tour of the ship and helping her set up quarters in the observation deck. And while the rest of the crew seemed to view her as a potential threat to be distrusted (which Kasumi understood to be par for the course for new additions to this particular crew, especially when said new addition came with a document about how she'd killed fourteen innocent workers just trying to do their jobs), Kelly had no problem talking with her for hours at a time. Now the two of them were seated at one of the mess tables, idly picking at their food while Kasumi spoke.

She'd forgotten how nice it was to have someone to talk to. Life as a thief was a great deal of fun, but it was a lonely existence. She remembered how giddy she'd been to meet Keiji and finally have someone to confide in, to share in her non-life with. It was refreshing to have someone to share her story with again – even if most of the story was invented.

"Not sure why I gravitate towards art," Kasumi said, tapping her painted lip absently. "I guess it's just in my upbringing. My grandfather back on Shanxi always got on me about being a proper lady. Lots of music lessons, diction, poetry, that kind of thing. I think he wanted me to be some kind of geisha. Carry on the tradition, or something."

"Did you?" Kelly asked.

"Nah. My parents grew up in Japan, but I've never even visited. It's kinda hard to be Japanese in any real way when you have to spend so much time being just human. Aliens don't care if you're Japanese, the Alliance doesn't care. It just kindof… gets smoothed over, I guess."

"It's kindof sad," Kelly said wistfully.

Kasumi frowned. "Yeah… Unless your colony is self sufficient you pretty much can't get away with pretending you're still on an island back on Earth." The details might have been lies but there were kernels of truth there. She hadn't been to her real homeplanet of Amaterasu for years now, but she remembered well the sense of dignified sadness as old traditions faded, as wooden buildings were replaced with prefabs, as isolation gave way to interdependence. "Keiji was born in Japan, though," she said. "He still did all the old stuff. Knew absolutely everything there was to know about Japanese history. Silly old traditionalist. I wonder if that's why I went for him."

Kelly sighed contentedly. "He sounds nice."

"Very nice," Kasumi agreed, a solemn look on her face. "But now he's gone. Smoothed over too."

Kelly gave her a pitying look. "Well, at least you have a history from Earth. I was born on Elysium. I don't even know who my ancestors are. My parents wanted me to be an attorney, but it's not like I come from a civilization of lawyers. Don't really have a story at all." She tapped at her chin, thinking for a moment, before eyeing Kasumi with a knowing glint. "Though I suppose I could just make one up like you do."

Kasumi fell silent. She stared at Kelly, who grinned smugly back at her. The redhead was smarter than she looked. Kasumi smiled guiltily. "Oookay, you caught me."

"I knew it! You little liar!" Kelly said, beaming. "Was any of that stuff true?"

Kasumi shrugged, taking a sip from her drink to hide her smile. "A little. Can you blame me, though? I am a professional thief. Don't generally hand out cards with my life story on them. Bad for business." Kelly just shook her head.

The two women turned their heads as the elevator doors opened. They heard the thunk thunk of armored feet as Garrus turned the corner, heading straight for Gardner's kitchen. The turian was silent as he opened one of the refrigeration units and rummaged through a box within, picking out two or three dozen purple ration tubes. Arms full, he closed the door with one foot and lumbered over to the table next to them.

"Hi Garrus!" Kelly said.

The scarred turian looked at her. "Yeoman Chambers," he said, nodding. "Kasumi." Even gloved, his talons made short work peeling the wrapping off of one of the purple tubes. At their curious looks, he held up his meal for them to see. "Shepard bought us a crate of dextro rations on the Citadel, and I'll be damned if I let Tali get away with all the topo berry ones this time. Have to get them quick or they'll be all gone by tomorrow." He stuffed the bar whole into his mouth, his mandibles clattering as he swallowed.

"Very nice," Kelly said, grinning. "I'm trying to figure out how much of Kasumi's background is real and how much is just a tall tale. How much do we really know?"

Garrus 'hmmm'ed noncommittally as he opened a second bar. "Well, she's definitely a real thief," he said absently. "Looked her up on the extranet. No appearance on record but several major art thefts to her name. Doesn't like scars, if Tali's to be believed."

Kelly raised a curious eyebrow but Kasumi just smiled. "Maybe I'm just not a fangirl," she said. "And I'm definitely not just a thief. I'm the best thief."

Garrus shrugged again, unimpressed. "I've stolen stuff too. Warehouses of it, in fact. Drugs, guns, mechs. Just about everything."

Kasumi crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. But can you do this?" she asked. With a mental command her stealth field activated. She felt a chill in her bones as she winked out of existence.

Garrus just stared at the empty space where she'd been sitting. "Maybe you're just the thief with the best equipment," he grunted. "Doesn't make you the best thief."

"It does if I stole all the equipment from military bases on eight worlds," she said with her disembodied voice.

"Ahh."

Kelly drummed at her chin, thinking. "So, she's a thief. 'Best' is debated, but I think we can call her a good thief, at least. Steals mostly art. I wonder why."

"She's poor and irresponsible?" Garrus suggested, and Kasumi made another little mental note for him. Turians didn't tend to suffer criminals very cheerfully, but if Garrus bore her any ill will he was doing a good job hiding it behind indifference.

"Nah, she's not poor. She's not a hoarder. More like a kleptomaniac. Steals for thrills."

Kasumi reappeared on the opposite side of the table, her lips pursed around one of Zaeed's cigars as she lit it with Mordin's laser sterilizer. "I don't steal for guddamn thrills, Missy," she lied in her best imitation of Zaeed's gravelly voice, giving it a few exaggerated puffs. She grinned cheekily.

"I'm guessing the part about Keiji was true. You looked so sad."

Kasumi's grin disappeared and the cigar drooped in her mouth. She said nothing. It was true, in most versions of her invented backstories she found a way to include Keiji somewhere. Call her a romantic fool, but her time with him was the only part of her life she refused to part with.

Kelly seemed to sense her unease and changed the subject. "So. Illium in a few hours," she said, cheerful face lighting up the room like a beacon. "Excited for some shore leave, Garrus?"

The turian shook his head, not looking up from where he was tucking the extra ration bars into the various compartments of his armor. "None for me," he said. "Shepard and I are going to go visit an old friend in Nos Astra, see if she can help us find this Krios guy."

"Aww," Kelly cooed, placing a sympathetic hand on Garrus' shoulder. "You guys work too hard. The whole crew has been itching to get off the ship. Why aren't you?"

"It's our job, Yeoman Chambers," he said. "Shepard and I will rest when it's done."

"Won't be easy," Kasumi interjected. "I've heard of Krios. He isn't going to just let you walk up to him." Few assassins did. Not so stealthy as thieves or spies, in her opinion, but close.

"All the more reason to get started now while the crew blows off steam."

"Might be able to help with that, actually," Kasumi said, snuffing out Zaeed's cigar and putting it back into one of her pockets in case she had to imitate him again later. "I have a few old contacts on Illium, might be able to point us in the right direction."

Garrus' mandibles flicked. He stared at her for a moment, as if gauging her intentions. "Good. The shorter we're planetside, the better," he said finally. "Besides, Illium's hardly my idea of a vacation spot. Reminds me too much of Omega."

Kasumi nodded. "Yeah, Illium's boring. Everybody's so stuffy there."

"Aww, come on," Kelly said. "You said you spent time there. There must be something fun to do." Her face suddenly lit up with excitement. "Oooh, maybe you can show me the sights when we get there! It'll be like a girl's night out!" She grabbed Kasumi's arm and gave her a pleading look. "We can go see a show, or see the glowing lakes! Or go shopping!"

"I don't generally 'shop' in the conventional sense," Kasumi warned, and Kelly gave her a chiding look. Kasumi stared evenly down at the woman's barely-contained enthusiasm and sighed. "Fiiiine." She let her shoulders droop for a moment before an idea occurred. "But only if you tell me when Jacob uses the weight room."

Kelly gave a sudden start, eyes wide as she looked about nervously. "I wouldn't know about that…" Behind her, Garrus just rolled his beady eyes as he gathered up the rest of his stolen food and headed for the battery, leaving Kelly laughing anxiously in his wake.

As soon as the door slid shut behind him, however, all of Kelly's apprehension disappeared under a wicked grin. She leaned in conspiratorially to whisper in Kasumi's ear, her eyebrows dancing suggestively. "Seven to nine every night in the armory, then an hour in the weight room as soon as Zaeed's done."

–

There was much jubilation.

The SR2's crew was being allowed off the ship for the first time in months, and on Illium – a world renown for its loose morals and readily available debauchery – no less! They'd gathered in throngs in the docking bay on Nos Astra while Shepard talked to the concierge, and everywhere Kasumi could feel the ripples of impatience working their way through the crowds, whispered plans and groans of excitement over the delicious smells they could detect wafting over from Nos Astra's hundreds of famous restaurants.

After what felt like hours to some (but was in fact only minutes), Shepard finally parted ways with the asari port authorities and turned to address his crew.

"Alright, listen up everybody!" he shouted. Almost immediately a hush fell over the assembled crowd. They lined up in the shadow of the Normandy, their excitement palpable. Even Shepard looked better than usual. "We're going to be on Illium for the next two days, perhaps more," he said. "I know you're all excited to get out there, but we need to set up a few ground rules." He paused, staring from face to face to make sure he had their attention. "I've transferred some money from the ship's funds to each of you. Feel free to use it how you like. If you find something you think the ship could use, call it in to either Miranda or Sergeant Gardner to get fund approval."

"Two words: Spinning. Rims," Joker shouted to a chorus of laughter.

Shepard ignored him. He began to pace. "Don't sign anything. I don't want any of you accidentally selling yourselves into slavery while you still work for me. But whatever you do, be careful. Illium is a safe world but that does not mean there aren't dangers. Do not break the law, do not attract attention. We are not criminals, but-"

"Pfft," Jack spat from where she was perched on the Normandy's wing, up and away from the rest of the crowd.

Shepard hesitated. "Okay. Jack's a criminal. But the rest of us-"

Kasumi raised her hand, "I'm kind of one too, Shep."

Shepard rubbed his forehead. "Okay. Jack and Kasumi are criminals. And Garrus, come to think of it. And Zaeed. And Cerberus in general…" He sighed. "Never mind. The point is, our mission is a secret. Keep your mouths shut. We don't need any more enemies than we have already. Garrus and I are heading to meet with Dr. T'Soni in the market district, so we may be off the radar for a while. If you need help, Miranda and Mordin are staying with the ship." He paused again. "Got it?"

There was a chorus of agreement.

"Then get out of here."

They didn't need to be told twice. The crew dispersed in all directions, disappearing in throngs to Nos Astra's casinos, restaurants, shops, and bars. Kasumi followed behind. Whatever she'd said, she wasn't about to miss the opportunity for a little freedom. As far as she could tell the Normandy didn't make many stops. She caught sight of Kelly's fiery hair and started walking. As she stepped off of loading ramp, however, she felt a tug on her arm. She turned to face Shepard and Garrus, fully-armored and grim-faced.

"Garrus tells me you think you might have a contact here who can help us with Thane Krios," Shepard said.

Kasumi nodded. "Yup. Asari whose been in the information business for a decade or two around here. Wouldn't call her a friend, per se, but she might have something for us."

"Go see what she can tell us, then. Might be Liara doesn't know anything, we need all the leads we can get. I want to be off this planet as fast as soon as possible."

"Yessir," Kasumi agreed with an elaborate salute. She tossed a sympathetic glance Kelly's way.

"I'm sending Zaeed with you," Shepard added. Behind him, the mercenary (who'd been with the 'about to drink until their livers imploded' group with Donnelly, Daniels, and Hadley) stopped in his tracks. His silver head slumped. "He'll make sure you get by safe."

Zaeed plodded over, a dour look on his scarred lips. "…New girl needs help talking to an old friend?" he whined. "I sure hope she doesn't bruise herself picking up a goddamn communicator."

Shepard grinned and nodded. "This is Illium, Zaeed. I'm sure it'll be quick, and then you can get on to refilling your medkits."

Zaeed's shoulders drooped a little more. It was obvious he was biting back another retort, but the commander's gaze left no room for debate. "Roger that, Commander…" he said at last, looking resigned.

As Shepard and Garrus walked away, Kasumi elbowed the mercenary in the ribs. "Don't worry, Z-man. It'll be fun."

Zaeed's voice and expression were equally deadpan. "Yippee…"

–

Zaeed's voice (long past deadpan) followed her out of the taxi.

"So there we were, crash landed on top of this cliff," he said, waving his hand in the air to draw out the cliff for Kasumi. "Sulfur atmosphere leakin' in every one of the thousand goddamn cracks in our hull, next to no supplies, and only three working gas masks between the six of us. Screwed, right?"

"Mmmhmmm…" Kasumi said absently, rolling her eyes beneath her hood. The taxi gave a beep.

"Transportation complete," it said in a pleasant female voice. "Your account will be charged automatically. Thank you for using the Nos-Astra Skypark Transport Ser-" it flickered and quieted as Kasumi waved her omni-tool in front of its console. For a few seconds, it was silent, and then "Taxi 0161 restored to factory defaults. Returning to berth." It awoke with a quiet hiss and, pivoting smoothly around, it flew off into the busy Illium skyways and was lost amongst the traffic.

Kasumi gave the retreating hovercar a coy wave before turning on her heel. They'd landed on one of the rooftop plazas of the Ishium Building, a towering, keel-shaped skyscraper on the outskirts of Nos Astra. At this dizzying height the thin air held a permanent chill and cloud cover concealed most of the city below from view, but that hadn't stopped the asari from building one of their most elaborate residential complexes. Apartments up here were safe, expensive, and private – the perfect location for an information broker to set up shop.

Presently, the plaza was abandoned but for the trickle of a massive carved fountain. Thick flurries of snow drifted gently outside, but the cold weather sizzled against the plaza's shields and behind them it was balmy and comfortable. Walled front courtyards leaned in from every side, no doubt bristling with security, but Kasumi spotted her contact's apartment and set off for its front gate like she owned the place.

Behind her, Zaeed kept up his story. "Not as screwed as you might think," he said, pride in his voice. "Me and one of my mates decide that if we can't get a signal through where we were, we might as well go try on one of the other cliffs. So we take two of the masks and what food we had left over and started to climb down. Anyway, turns out the canyon's a lot deeper than it looks – takes us two bloody days to reach the bottom. Time we get there we're outta food, our filters are clogging, and every goddamn breath we took tasted like the foulest crap you could imagine. Lungs were practically burning away. We're just about ready to lay down and die when my mate notices the ground under our boot's made of red metal. We dig it up a little, brush it off, you know, and we see a very familiar logo. Turned out we'd crashed right on top of another ship, and not just any ship." He grinned at Kasumi. "The Aegukka." He nodded, clearly immensely pleased with himself, and stared expectantly at her.

"Umm…," Kasumi said, screwing up her face in thought as she vaulted over a decorative marble wall, "What's the Aegukka?"

Zaeed's face fell. He followed her brisk pace easily, never missing a beat, but it was clear that hadn't been the response he'd been looking for. "Are you kidding me? Are you goddamn kidding me?" His eye held a crazed gleam. "What kind of deaf little princess ain't heard of the largest goddamn human ship ever lost in space? The first goddamn human battleship! The goddamn biggest, stupidest pile of guns ever strapped to a rocket?"

Kasumi shrugged. "Me, I guess."

"Unbe-frickin-lievable," Zaeed said, burying his face in one gauntleted hand. "How old are you?"

"Twenty eight?"

Zaeed grimaced, rolling his mismatched eyes. "Of course you are," he muttered bitterly. "Whole ship's full of bloody goddamn children. It's like a goddamn preschool, nobody old enough to have heard of the Aegukka. Just me and Gardner. Jesus Christ."

"What about Doctor Chakwas? She seems nice."

Zaeed nodded vigorously, suddenly wistful. "Aye, Chakwas. Now there's a classy lady. She'd know that ship, mark my words."

Kasumi smiled. "Aww… does Zaeed have a little crush on the doctor?"

"What! No!" he shouted, his scarred face reddening. "Jesus Christ, girlie, what the hell is wrong with you?" He sighed. "I'm too old for that crap."

Kasumi's grin just widened as the two of them approached the gate. "I think it's cute. Want me to put in a good word for you?"

Zaeed drew his gun.

Kasumi just laughed. "Relax, Z-man. Just kidding. I'm sure you're actually quite heartless. Now quit your bellyaching, we're here." She gestured to the massive steel gate protecting her contact's glamorous home. Zaeed stared up at it like he was seeing it for the first time.

"Huh," he said, watching as she started working her magic on the gate's lock. Her fingers worked quickly, her omni-tool even quicker. A few seconds was all it took her to get through it, and the gate slid aside.

"Greetings, Nyxeris. Welcome home," the security VI said, and Kasumi smirked. She stepped through the gate into Nyxeris' well-groomed garden yard without hesitation. The garden was practically a jungle, carefully tended behind climate-control fields and so humid Kasumi could taste the tang of fertilizer in the air.

"Nyxeris, huh?" Zaeed asked, following behind. "Friend of yours?"

"Hardly." The two of them walked up to the house's circular door. It was, like the rest of the house, of exquisite make, its panels inlaid with blue stained Thessian glass. Rich offworld plants, laden with comma-shaped fruits, hung from ceramic hooks on the roof edge.

Zaeed eyed the house's vehicle port. "No hovercar in the dock. Not home, then. Not planning to meet her in person?"

Kasumi shook her head as she set to work on the front door. "Nah, Nyxeris is a bitch," she said, cutting the door's hidden alarm with casual ease. "I'm planning to rob her blind, so I honestly hope she stays far, far away for the next hour or so. Want to come?" The door came open easily, and she gestured into the house.

Zaeed's creased face frowned as he stared warily into the house. "Shepard told us not to break any laws," he said. "Pretty sure robbery is against the law even on Illium."

Kasumi sighed. For a battle-hardened mercenary, he sure was spineless. "He also told us to find what info we could on Krios. Nyxeris will have something in there, I promise you. And if she was here, she wouldn't give it to us. So we have to take it." She padded into the house and was relieved to not hear any hidden security measures pop up. "You coming or not?"

Zaeed fixed her with his piercing stare. "Why should I risk my ass on this?"

"She probably has a bar."

"I'm in."

–

Kasumi found Nyxeris' computers easily enough – she had over twenty of them in a tower cluster stacked in the house's enormous foyer, their screens cycling through dozens of images as they scanned local and galactic news feeds. Forearm-thick cables, carefully disguised into the molding of a Celcuc-marble countertop, carried the data to a concealed server bank in the basement. Kasumi approached the consoles slowly, eyes scanning for any hidden security she might have missed. Stealing from intensely private people like Nyxeris was usually pretty easy – they didn't trust guards or police – but it meant they tended to have the most elaborate and dangerous security systems.

Luckily, Nyxeris apparently believed her house's remote location and door security would be enough. As soon as Kasumi put a hand to the keyboards the computers came alive. "Welcome, User," they said, their screens flickering to life. "Please approach palm scanner to verify identity." There was a whirr and a scanner presented itself from a hidden compartment.

Behind her, Zaeed snorted. "Uh oh."

"Please," Kasumi said, rolling her eyes. "If this is all she has, she's about to be disappointed." She gestured to the scanner. "This is an older Asa twenty one. Asari design. Only recognizes asari hands."

"Left my lucky Asari hand keychain at home," Zaeed said sarcastically.

Kasumi grinned at him, unflustered. "Then we just get through it the old fashioned way. It has a weakness. They all do. Just have to know the tricks."

"And you know them?"

"Will in a second," she said with a smirk, turning back to the scanner. She paused, closing her eyes, and called forth her graybox interface. The haptic screen flickered to life across her face.

"Bubblegum," she said.

In an instant, her head was flooded with memories. With the tag word spoke, everything she'd ever learned about breaking skin scanners rifled through her brain with perfect clarity. She skimmed the memories like pages in a book, following the graybox's inhumanly-perfect organization until she'd ferreted out the right one. The file blazed in her head. "Ahh yes, here it is. Asa models."

"Bubblegum?"

"Yup," Kasumi said, hands already fast at work. "Had to jog the memory. Turns out the Asa models only recognize asari, but they're based entirely on transmission patterns instead of any kind of fingerprint or DNA scan. Thickness of muscle, shape of the bones, that kind of thing. It'll recognize us as foreign easy enough, but if we just make a few minor adjustments…" with a flick of her wrist, she'd pulled a tiny awl out of one of her hidden pockets and jammed it into the scanner's back panel, "pry off this back part here and introduce a little fuzziness…" She pulled open the back of the scanner and spat into its innards, right onto the sensor diode, which gave a sizzle. Satisfied, she set it back down and shot Zaeed an arrogant grin. "Try it," she said, pointing to the scanner.

Zaeed stared suspiciously at her for a moment before slowly pulling off one of his gloves and placing his gnarled hand into the machine. "Scanning… scanning… scanning." The machine gave a displeased beep. "I'm sorry, scan failed. Please remove your hand and try again." Zaeed's eyebrow creaked upwards as he tried again – the scanner did no better the second time. The two of them watched as the scanner worked on Zaeed's hand again and again, each time failing to come up with an image it recognized as foreign or otherwise. Eventually, the scanner gave a click and turned off. "I'm sorry, but this scanner appears to be nonfunctional. Please enter your authorization code manually."

The screens flickered to show a more conventional login screen. "And this," Kasumi said proudly, "can be hacked by anybody with a brain. Oh, and a graybox in that brain. That's important too."

Zaeed concealed his approval behind a snort. "A graybox? Why you tricky little tart."

"Zipper," she said, and her head was filled with computer codes and programs. It took only a few seconds to find the right one to bypass Nyxeris' security (part of a factory reset program that Asa employees carried, as it turned out) and the computers yielded to her.

She was Kasumi. Security systems were putty in her hands. Muahahahahaha.

The computers gave her no further trouble, offering her access to Nyxeris' considerable databases of illicit information. She found every reference to Thane Krios she could get, memorizing each with an imagined command to her graybox, before moving on to other topics of interest. You never knew when you'd need to know some celebrity dirt on Illium.

"Pretty impressive, got to admit," Zaeed said, watching Kasumi's practiced fingers fly across the keyboards at blazing speed. "You just say a stupid codeword and you got any skill you want, huh?"

Kasumi shrugged. "More or less. Marmalade."

Zaeed looked at her. "What's that one for?"

Kasumi shrugged again. "Nothin'. Just a fun word to say. Marmalade."

–

The data in hand (or… head, really), Kasumi set to casing the rest of Nyxeris' home. Whoever paid Nyxeris paid her well, and the expensive home was filled to the gills with expensive toys. The asari was mostly pretty tacky, in Kasumi's not-so-humble opinion, but she clearly shared her enthusiasm for artwork. Dozens of sculptures and paintings filled every room, each one meticulously labeled and lit by attractive floodlights. Kasumi paced around the halls at her leisure, appraising each piece like the wealthiest art critic on the Citadel.

She tried to ignore the crashing she could hear in the background as Zaeed ransacked the home. The brutish mercenary had apparently gotten over his initial anxiety and was now helping himself to money, jewelry, food, and the contents of Nyxeris' generous wine cellar. Kasumi heard the clinking of bottles well before she saw Zaeed join her in front of an abstract sculpture from Thessia. The smell of asari wine hung around him like a cloud. "Pretty damn ugly," he said, grunting towards the statue as he took another swig.

"I don't know," Kasumi said, cocking her head to one side. "Kinda simplistic, but I like the use of negative space."

"Uh huh," Zaeed said absently, draining the rest of the bottle. He set it down on the statue's base and cracked the lid from another.

Kasumi glared at him.

"…What?"

She shook her head. "You ever rob a place like this before?"

"…No."

"Let me give you a tip, then." She picked up his empty bottle and waved it in his face, smiling sweetly. "This bottle does not go here, Z-Man," she said, tapping the bottle against Zaeed's craggy chin. "This bottle has spit on it. Spit has DNA in it. DNA is a clue. Right now, you and me are thieves. In someone's home. If we get caught, we go to prison, which is unpleasant. So we… Don't. Leave. Clues."

Zaeed grimaced. "I was going to throw it in the trash on the way out."

"Listen, I know you don't have a graybox, so you might just have to come up with an acronym or something to help you remember, but this is important. You and me Don't. Leave. Clues." She put a finger to her chin. "Or we'll Die. Like…" She paused, thinking up a workable C word. "Completely," she finished, satisfied.

"Poetry," Zaeed said sarcastically, taking the bottle and tucking it into one of his holsters. "I'll be sure to take that to heart." He gestured to the other bottles in his arms, along with the few dozen gem-inlaid bracelets around each wrist. "Well, I got all I want. You get the data on the lizard man?"

"Right here," Kasumi confirmed, tapping her forehead.

"Then let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait, wait, wait," Kasumi said, patting him on the shoulder. She gestured to the statue. "I want it."

Zaeed eyed it dubiously. "That thing's bigger than you are. How are you going to carry it out of here?"

Kasumi laughed. "I'm not." She gave him a wicked grin.

–

Kasumi strolled out of Nyxeris' house, a box of Zaeed's confiscated liquor (about twenty pounds) and one data disk (about an ounce) richer. It was good to be a thief.

"You got a memory saved under pain in the ass little thief?" Zaeed bellowed, huffing and puffing as he struggled to fit Kasumi's statue (two hundred thirty-one pounds) through the door.

Kasumi grinned at him. "Not yet, Z-man. Not yet."

–

Codex entry: The Aegukka

The decades after the discovery of the Martian ruins were a time of great change on Earth. Supernational organizations, which had been gaining power since before the turn of the century, blossomed to dominate the global political stage almost overnight. Suddenly people worldwide were realizing a need to ally as fellow humans against the dangers of the universe as a whole. Religions restructured, sworn enemies with thousand-year-old conflicts dropped their arms, and the new race was on.

The universe had grown, but who was going to control it?

New technologies – based on Prothean relics or otherwise – exploded forward as the supernational organizations banded together to conquer the logistics of space exploration. In less than twenty years more than two hundred Alliance warships were constructed, each one an improvement on the last.

One dream, however, remained elusive. The discovery of mass effect fields had quickly established railgun weaponry as state-of-the-art, and it was widely understood that bigger ships could carry longer barrels and thus fire faster, harder, and to much greater effect. The goal of the space dreadnaught (then defined as any ship exceeding .75 kilometers in length) was on every government's mind. Even as they cooperated to build smaller ships, several supernational organizations started up their own secret dreadnaught programs, recruiting elite scientists to tackle the logistical problems of how to build a ship the size of a small city. While dreadnaughts remained the holy grail, however, they were largely considered a pipe dream by engineers at the time, due to the difficulties of construction – dreadnaughts were much too large to build in atmosphere and fly into orbit, even with the aid of mass effect fields, and so would have to be built in space. Without a bigger space presence, it was agreed, dreadnaughts were simply too impractical to build, and indeed the first Alliance dreadnaughts did not begin construction until after the First Contact War, with the assistance of alien technologies and designs.

There is, however, one notable exception. The first human dreadnaught was, in fact, not built by the Alliance, but thirteen years earlier by the Communist Republic of the Eastern Front (CREF), an isolationist confederacy in Southeast Asia. Highly isolationist politics had made certain Asian regions into cultural islands that were among the only areas to resist the influence of the supernational organizations. CREF was a highly militant collection of separate nations that believed in maintaining sovereignty over their own lands, even as the supernational organizations gobbled up most of the world around them. Together, CREF remained the single loudest voice against unification, and throughout the twenty-second century they came into greater and greater conflict with the rest of the world.

While generally viewed as somewhat backwards and dangerous by the rest of the world, CREF nonetheless managed to construct the first working dreadnaught, which it launched – to the Alliance's great surprise – in 2156. The Aegukka was a long, thin craft, but nonetheless the largest vehicle humanity had ever constructed at just over seven hundred fifty meters in length. How it was built without detection is still not known, but analysis of satellite imagery suggests that it was built in much smaller, interchangeable segments, which could be individually ferried into orbit and assembled. While this method of construction prevented the inclusion of a full-sized railgun, the Aegukka was nonetheless more heavily armed than any contemporary ship, sporting at least 142 separate heavy artillery pieces and 48 GARDIAN batteries.

Reactions to the Aegukka varied. Many considered it a dangerous sign of where humanity was headed – it was often popularly referred to as Sputnik-2 and rumors abounded that CREF would use it to attack one of the Alliance's then-relatively poorly defended extraterran holdings. Others thought the ship was a joke, a poorly-conceived plea for attention by an increasingly irrelevant splinter group. The fact that CREF had decided to paint the entire craft with more than 100,000 gallons of bright red paint, along with countless flags and other patriotic images, was considered especially telling of their real motivations.

Luckily, fears of the Aegukka being used against the Alliance were not borne out – the ship was sent through the Charon mass relay with much fanfare and never seen again. The ship's disappearance was quickly elevated to the level of legend, frequently compared to the twentieth-century Titanic or Challenger disasters, but, aside from its use as a symbol for the dangers of carrying Earth's political troubles into space (ironically by the very pro-unification groups CREF opposed), it was largely overshadowed by the beginnings of the Contact War the following year.

Thirty years later, the fate of the Aegukka remains unknown. Most experts agree that life support technologies of the time too primitive for the ship to go more than a year or two without resupplying, but no such sightings have yet been reported. Speculations as to its ultimate fate vary – some insist it never made it through the relay at all, while others maintain it ultimately accomplished its mission and is spreading communism throughout unknown systems even now. Most experts, however, suspect that the ship stumbled into batarian territory and was shot down, but precisely where remains a mystery, despite dozens of supposed crash site discoveries.

–

A/N: I... RETURN!

So, yeah. Grad school's a lot of work, turns out. Sorry it took so long to get this update out, but I'm a busy guy these days.

I love Kasumi. She doesn't have the same special place in my heart that Zaeed does, but she's similarly badass (and I dread to think of her getting cut from ME3). I realize I've painted her a little differently than the game does, not least of which by giving her a different excuse to join the crew, but I think it's a neat character. A fun combination of cheerfulness and dubious morality. And she's a smartass besides Joker for me to use! Expect to see her a lot for the rest of the story.

A very special thanks to both my usual beta, Angurvddel, and my guest beta GaggedCenobite for their help with this chapter.

And the obligatory (but quite sincere) thanks to you readers and reviewers.

I figure the owner of chapter 16 shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, since I've all but said it two chapters in a row now, but let me just say that he's the first character for whom there can't be enough flashbacks. Aww yeah. Expect 16 a faster than this one, because I'm really excited about chapter 17, which is about some of the coolest, coolest characters ever made in anything ever.