Location: Depot Sigma-23—Classified coordinates
Elena tore the plastic from the crate and filled her pack with food and water. Mark was doing the same nearby and whistled as he uncovered a weapon stash. "El, look at this."
Elena glanced over but continued packing the essentials. "We were supposed to have two platoons. Those were their toys."
Mark frowned, hefting a Diamond Back assault rifle and extending the barrel. He looked like a kid on Christmas day and she couldn't help but smile despite herself. "These haven't even been touched. There's gotta be like twenty crates in here. What the hell happened?"
"It was fully stocked," Elena confirmed, "but...shit happened. Look can we just get what we need and go?"
Mark wasn't listening to her and disappeared into the next compartment. Elena shoved another water bottle into her pack and dumped it with the rest of the supplies near the door. They had about three back backs between them, each full of weapons, food and water for when they landed on Earth. Elena was eager to get going, but it seemed that once they docked Mark started playing twenty questions and wouldn't shut up. This place gave her the creeps and considering that what happened here was still part of her nightmares, she didn't want to stick around and recreate some horror vid.
"Mark!" She called out, hearing her voice echo through the compartment. Whoever designed this place clearly worked for the Alliance. These cramped little spaces were not for the claustrophobic, yet they expected her and the entire squad of Cerberus' top scientists to spend five years here on research.
When no answer came, she sighed, snagged a Viper shotgun and breezed through the door. "This is the wrong fucking time for an expedition, Mark. Where are you?"
When the doors slid closed she found herself alone in the hallway. Elena ignored her shaking hands, sudden indrawn breath and tried to forget how the Rachnni crawled beneath the walls.
Shotgun out and ready to fire, she moved slowly, methodically as her own heartbeat filled her ears. This was the last place she wanted to be, she wanted to destroy it and leave the galaxy.
"Ruuuuuun..."
She jumped and swirled around, finding nothing behind her. But the sounds didn't stop.
"Abandon station—they've escaped."
Elena swung her gun back, to find nothing before her.
"No!"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Someone help me!"
"Shoot the—agh!"
The voices of the dead swirled around her in a maelstrom of memories. Elena jerked in every direction, but there was nothing there. Nothing forward, nothing back, no one. She wanted to scream but her throat was swollen, doing over time from hyperventilating. "Come on," she urged herself, feeling her fingers turn cold. "None of this is real. None of this is—ah!"
She jumped when she bumped into a soft fleshy thing, spinnning to jam her gun in its front.
"Whoa," Mark exclaimed, holding a hand up but not moving his neck away from her barrel. "Elena...it's me...you're okay...it's just us here."
She stared at him over the shotgun sights and eventually lowered the weapon. "I know," she replied, unsure if she was trying to convince him or herself.
"What happened?"His hand found the grove of her neck as he caressed the side of her face, trying to make eye contact.
But as welcome as the touch was, she swatted it away. "I'm fine. Let's get out of here."
"I mean here." Mark swept his hands wide, still holding the Diamond Back. "What happened to this Station?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She started to walk back towards the door.
"This was your next assignment wasn't it? It was supposed to be in space. But you told us you were researching weapons, not Rach—"
"I don't want to talk about it!" She yelled. When his footsteps fell closer, she swung the shotgun with all her might, trying to pin him against the wall.
But Mark was faster and turned the tables. She felt the cold steel slam against her back. "Hey?" he asked, still trying to contain her as she squirmed. The shotgun between them cluttered to the ground and she sank with it, bringing him down too. "Hey..." his own weapon fell too as he scooped her into his arms.
Elena clung to him like a dying woman as she wept, letting all of it out in a gut wrenching cry. Another pathetic episode, but she didn't care. It was all becoming so ridiculous, so drawn out, so fucking long! Why couldn't the past just stay where it belonged?
It took a few minutes until she was calm again. Mark sat against the wall, rubbing circles on her back as buried her cheek against him, tracing patterns on his chest. "I guess I should thank you," he said.
"For what?" she asked, unable to look him in the eye just yet.
"For not blasting me off station," he replied, devious grin in place. "You could've taken me with the flick of a wrist."
The corners of her mouth twitched as she pressed her index finger against him. "Don't you forget it," she said, taking the sting out of her words with a kiss to the base of his neck.
Mark hugged her closer. She didn't want to leave his arms, but she sure as hell wanted to get off this station. It was a no-win situation, but one with long term benefits for sure.
"This is where the nightmares are from?" he asked tentatively, rubbing her arm gently.
Elena only nodded against him as her eyes fluttered closed. "We were studying the Rachni but...we weren't prepared."
"They got loose, I can see that much." He asked, filling in the gaps.
Elena nodded again, opening her eyes to see the halls full of screaming scientists running for their lives. Years of Cerberus discipline was abandoned, as they fought for the last life pods. The few that stood back to fight were killed instantly, falling right at her feet as she kept firing.
"They killed everyone, somehow got into the shipping control systems and left," Elena whispered, remembering how she nearly blew up the controls. "They wiped the system clean, there was no way to track them. Stupid bugs were more advanced than we gave them credit for."
"When did this happen?" he asked, craning his neck to look her in the eye.
"Six months ago."
"That's when we went on the run?" he asked, frowning.
"Yes." She felt his arms tighten briefly as it all fit into place. When he relaxed his grip, she was the first one up, disentangling herself and snagging their guns from the floor. "I left logs for whoever would find this place. I wanted to destroy it but there was still hope that someone could dive into the system and dig out their destinations."
Elena handed him the assault rifle and walked up to the console in the command center. Holding the edge of the railing, she breathed in deeply as it all started coming back to when she recorded that last message.
When Mark was at her side she ordered the computer to play the first log.
"Sigma-23 is almost fully operational. The barracks and storage lockers are complete, and we've begun stocking the munitions. It's highly unlikely the Alliance will patrol in the nebula. I expect our only risk will be from pirates. And who'll believe them? Looks like we have space for two reinforced platoons of Cerberus commandos," her own voice declared, calm, collected and cocky in a perfect bundle of arrogance. She shook her head at her own naiveté back then. Maybe if she stopped to think about her actions for one second instead of always being a step ahead of Dana, they would still have this base.
"Play the second entry," Elena commanded the computer.
Mark listened closely and grasped her hand as the next one rolled.
"The package arrived today for field testing. I'm told they're fundamentally similar to the units being developed on Noveria. They promised this batch would be stable. Something about them developing in proximity to the master control unit. We detected some pirates setting up an anchorage in the neighboring system. I think we'll try deploying them there first."
This was about a week into testing, she recalled. Her eyes twitched as she stared at the log box, unable to believe the voice on the other end belonged to her. How that cold, calculating bitch from within could unleash something as catastrophic as the rachni on any living being was a mystery to her.
"It was necessary," Mark said, though his eyes expression showed remorse. "We signed up to advance humanity, El. Sometimes it comes at a cost."
"How can you say that?" She challenged. "We weren't ready for field tests. I rushed it because I was too stubborn to slow down. If I waited for the platoons to ship first, maybe we would've had the place contained."
"What you would've had is more bodies," Mark said, running a hand along her arm. "Play the last one."
The computer rolled the logs and Elena's voice filtered through again. "They've escaped containment. Clever bastards. We treated them like animals. We should've treated them like P.O.W's. They're spreading. Boarding the supply ships and sending them to random destinations. They'll be all over the cluster in a week." The feed cut off there and Elena hung her head in shame. She was responsible for this mess, no matter what anyone said but she planned to fix that.
"I uploaded the raw encrypted flight files to a matrix in my graybox," Elena said, "I was hoping the decipher it myself, but now I know it's better if we keep Cerberus busy chasing after us."
Mark nodded in agreement, though she could see he was still taking the revelation in. Yet, unlike her he didn't seem to judge her for a second. Only guilt was in his eyes, and it seemed to be directed inwards. Bastard.
"Your sister will crack it," he said, sounding genuinely convinced.
Elena laughed. "My sister is all thumbs with tech. That's why Shepard's there." She squeezed Mark's shoulder and took a look around. "If she can reconstruct the launch logs, she'll have the location of all the rachni. Once again my big sister will be stuck cleaning up my mess."
"What are older siblings for, right?" He smiled and looked around. "Ready to go?"
She was about to say yes but the glow of the terminal kept her attention. There was one last thing she needed to do if they were going to start a new life together.
"Just a sec." Elena faced the computer and keyed up the last entry. "Computer, amend the last entry with my upcoming recording."
"Amending in progress," the machine announced. "Recording now."
"General, if you recover this message. My advice is screw the rachni. They're too smart. Use one of the other projects." She turned to Mark and smiled. "Flores, signing off...for the final time."
As the computer added the addendum, Mark looked at her quizzically. "You think Petrovsky's gonna find this place?"
"Do the math, he's practically on top of us."
"I didn't get that impression," Mark argued, collapsing his rifle.
Elena only rolled her eyes. "Who do you think would be clever enough to offer you a deal?" Mark stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide with realization. Elena shot him a playful I told you so and walked ahead. "The General will find this place. When he does, I hope he blows it to hell."
o~O~o
Location: Triton foot bridge—Citadel waterfront.
Miranda felt ambivalent towards the Citadel. It's not that it wasn't pretty or inviting even, it's just that it was a cold place for those without money and a haven for those with it. Or at least that's how the twelve year old version of herself, running for her life with her baby sister in tow recounted her stay.
"What a view," Banes remarked.
She didn't know when he showed up, but he was still breathing which was good enough for her. "My contact will lure Jin Xiang from the factory districts, to the wards over there." She motioned with her omni-tool, directly one level below them.
"When?" Banes asked.
Miranda shut off her omni-tool and looked up. "When he finds her," she said, frowning as she watched Banes face. "Is that blood?"
He looked surprised before dabbing at the crimson trail below his nose. "Nothing to worry about, dear Lawson. A simple nosebleed. Blame the atmosphere." He pat his pockets for tissue but she was faster and dabbed it up with one of her own. Banes eyed her appreciatively but stood still under her touch. "Where you managed to stash that is a mystery worth dying for."
She mopped him up and pushed his head back. "Keep pressure on it."
He took over and smiled, completely disregarding the order by bringing his head forward again. "Look at all of them. So comfortable with their pathetic lives."
For once they seemed to agree as they watched some party-goers below, near the left hand side of the lake, right across from the factory district. Normally she wouldn't dignify him with a response, but curiosity was her friend tonight. "You don't like it?"
"They're stuck in the old ways. Worshiping money, desiring power, love, materials but that's not true power." He opened his palm, and summoned a sphere of pure dark energy, the blackness swirled around his palm. "This is true power! The next stage in human evolution."
Miranda stared transfixed at the orb. It seemed different this time, as if it ebbed its own energy, she could feel its heat signature on her skin, but didn't move or say anything until Banes closed his fist and made it disappear.
"You mentioned, love," she spoke, eying him suspiciously. "I wouldn't equate that with people's thirst for power."
"No? You use love to get people to do what you want, Miranda," he said, with proud glee.
She shook her head slowly. "I use seduction. They're two different things."
"But is it merely seduction for those you seduce?" Banes asked, leaning closer. "Lawson, it comes close to being one of the few powers I can respect for its absolutely devastating effect on normal fools. But the way you burn the hearts right out of people doesn't come close to what is possible with biotics from the gods."
"Biotics that require strict control, otherwise they destroy the carrier," Miranda clarified. "That doesn't sound like a very reliable source of power."
"And yet there's something about it that intrigues you anyways," Banes said.
She didn't reply and his grin grew larger. "I came from these pathetic beings, Lawson. Look what I've achieved with this power?" He swept his arm over the Citadel below. "Can you even begin to imagine what you, a goddess engineered for perfection, could do with it?"
The challenge in his eye was alluring, but at the end of the day this indoctrinated bio-weapon of the reapers stood against humaninterests. As long as it did so, she would keep her distance. Yet Banes didn't have to know that. Not yet.
"Miranda," Dima, stepped up to their perch. "Your asset is reporting contact with Xiang. He's ready to move on your order."
"I'll be right there," Miranda said. Dima nodded and walked back to their little relay station at a nearby cafe. When he was gone she turned back to Banes, producing another and dabbing the new lines of blood. "Hang in there, Banes. You might be the key to saving humanity."
"Saving them from their own pathetic existence," he said cryptically, pushing away from the railing with glee. "Now, let's see how you're doing."
o~O~o
Location: Zakara Apartments –Zakara Wards—Citadel
Liam leaned against the doorway, cradling his bruised hand. It was probably broken but he didn't care, the pain was nothing compared to the anguish in his heart. If Sasha was really pregnant then it was all going to be downhill from here. He wasn't ready to watch her fight for her life on a hospital bed again.
The door opened and Dana gasped as she took in his appearance.
"Got room for a runaway?" He asked, pushing off from the door frame.
"Shepard, I—" But he cut her off with a kiss as he pushed his way in and kicked her door shut. There was only so much rejection a man could handle in a day.
Her protest died down but it wasn't until the wolf whistle and cheer did he realize why. Liam opened his eyes to see Ellie and Traynor on the sofa with a front row seat to the spectacle. Dana was frozen, glancing between him and the girls.
"Not a word, ladies," Liam said, before resuming their kiss.
"Oh don't mind us, we've waited long enough for this show," Ellie commented.
Flores ducked away from him and stood with her hands in her pockets. "Ellie."
"We're moving, we're moving," Ellie chided, as she popped up and grabbed a stunned Traynor by the hand. "Come on. Let's give the lovebirds some privacy." She patted Liam's shoulder. "About damn time!"
"This is truly adorable!" Traynor added, before she was forced out the door, followed by the Flight Lieutenant who winked to them.
Liam checked his omni-tool for the time as Dana frowned with curiosity. "What is it?" she asked.
"I believe I've made it a whole four hours before ruining a woman's life," Liam declared, flicking his wrist to shut it off and wincing. "Think that's a record."
Dana gave him a pitying look, glancing to his hand. "You got into a fight?"
"Threw the first punch," he admitted with a shrug.
"You said you were running?" she pondered.
Liam shook his head and ran his good hand over his face. "Yeah, from the biggest pack of liars in the known galaxy—my entire family and close friends."
She smirked at that. "Join the club."
"If there's room for two?" he spoke.
She nodded, but when he stepped forward she stepped back. "You need ice. Sit."
He smiled, even outside of her uniform, decked in a sexy pair of jeans and loose blouse, Dana Flores still spoke with authority.
He plopped onto the couch and she was back in a second, tossing him an ice pack. "Thanks," he said gratefully as he dabbed it to his bruised knuckles.
Dana took a seat on the other couch to his dismay, but he didn't push her on it. He only noted that her hands were still in her pockets, out of sight. She waited until he sighed in relief before asking. "Bad day?"
"Considering that I just made an ass of myself, twice," he nodded, "yeah, bad day."
She gestured to the pizza still on the table between them. "There are some slices left. I have beer. We can talk if you're up for it."
He shook his head and felt even more of an ass for interrupting their meal. "I don't want to talk."
"What do you want then?" she asked, not irritated or anything, just genuinely wanting to know.
"You," he answered truthfully, reaching out for her.
Dana took a deep breath and sat tall. "Look...this morning was nice. But I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," he said, hand still outstretched.
But Dana shook her head. "It's not just what I did with my hands, it's this—whatever you want to call this."
Liam sighed and got up. Why did women have to be so stubborn? He crossed the distance between them and sat next to her. "You won't hurt me. I promise."
She looked into his eyes and that's when he saw it. The complete dedication to her squad, career and goals, meant that whatever they had or would have needed to remain professional around everyone else. "Can you handle that?" She asked, sensing his understanding.
Liam nodded. "Anything else or can I just kiss you already?"
Dana smiled and leaned forward, closing the distance between them but keeping her hands hovering near his body. It wasn't until Liam grasped her wrists and brought her contact gently against him, did things escalate. Once her hands met his skin, there was no stopping her. Dana's gentle touch roamed his body. They broke apart briefly as she tugged the jacket from his shoulders and his fingers danced at the hem of her top.
Clothes fell, one piece at a time until there were no barriers left between them. Liam discovered that Dana was a very attentive lover, knowing exactly how to soothe him and where to touch to make him beg. Her hands were magic, almost like a drug in the way they knead his skin, simultaneously giving pleasure and taking it.
But he wasn't one to sit idly by, even if it was a good show. Distracting her with his roaming mouth, Liam flipped them so that she was pinned beneath him on the couch and followed up with a languid thrust. She clung to him in ecstasy as he built a steady rhythm, all the while continuing his ministrations. Her expressions were pure gold, not hidden, not controlled just complete uninhibited pleasure as she crashed over the breaking point, bringing him with her.
o~O~o
Location: Citadel Derby SkyTrack—Citadel Aerodrome.
The race was hours away but the excitement was at a breaking point. Citadel Aerodrome, home to the longest amateur racing track in the galaxy, was barely half filled on a good day. But this morning, every ticket was sold out as the first racing derby in the last five years was about to start.
Michael Shepard tugged the seat straps again, completely focused on the task. Petrovsky watched over him as the rest of the Shepard family kept a large gaggle around them. He knew his daughter did not approve of this sport, but there was no mistake that the car was well built. Streamlined to resemble those antique Formula 1 cars, Michael's version was almost an exact replica of the 21st century Ferrari, right down to the red painted body work. His friends marveled around the vehicle, but scattered when Petrovsky approached.
Michael flicked his black aviators upwards and smiled. "Hi, grandpa."
"Hello, young man," Petrovsky greeted, clasping both hands behind his back. "This is a very good machine you have here."
"Thanks." Michael waved into the stands where a pretty blonde girl leaned over the rails, waving back.
Petrovsky stifled a laugh. Young love, so promising, so misguided and yet so pure. "Who is your friend?"
"Do you know where my dad is?" Michael asked, changing the subject.
Petrovsky took a deep breath, he didn't want the boy to worry, not before going into something that would require all his focus. "I'm sure he will be here. After all, this was his gift to you."
Michael nodded and continued his inspection, crouching to look beneath the front wing. "You made mom sad by telling him."
Petrovsky blinked. Michael did not sound like a child of thirteen years, he seemed wiser, maybe moreso than anyone has given him credit for. But as he worked patiently on his car, Petrovsky saw no reason as to why he couldn't treat him as such.
"It was for his benefit." He came around to the other side of the car. "I think your father has a right to know about your upcoming little sister."
"Mom wanted to wait," Michael replied, flicking his omni-tool to check the engine. "You could have waited too."
"Patience is not one of my virtues, unlike it is yours my boy," Petrovsky responded.
Michael shook his head and popped up, supporting himself with a hand atop the cockpit. "Grandpa, he's my dad. I don't like it when you make him or my mom sad."
Petrovsky didn't know what to say to that. Here he was, hero of the first contact war, master strategist, decorated general, and yet his undoing was a thirteen year old boy. He had to smile at the strangeness of it all.
"What's this?" John came over from the crowd, shooting daggers at the General. Little did he know that Petrovsky always preferred him. The ruthless Shepard who knew how to get the job done, the only one capable of wearing the 'Butcher of Torfan' title proud.
"The car that'll get me past the finish line, uncle John," Michael said, stepping back with a smile.
John only nodded to his nephew but kept his eyes on Petrovsky who had yet to explain himself. The older man felt weary, tired of this constant friction between the families. "You'll do great. Just stick to the checklist and do the inspection, we'll be just over there," John replied, jutting a thumb towards the crew pit.
"It was good to see you, Michael," Petrovsky responded.
What he didn't anticipate was the young man dropping everything and coming over for a hug. Not used to any gesture of warmth from the Shepards, Petrovsky froze until his arms wrapped around the young man in return. "Thanks for coming, Grandpa."
"We will see you at the finish line," Petrovsky promised, resting a hand on his Michael's head as they broke apart.
When the boy resumed his work, Petrovsky followed John near the pits. The younger Shepard ran a hand over his close cropped hair. "What do you want?"
"Is seeing my grandson a crime?" Petrovsky asked, not the least bit phased.
"You did enough damage yesterday." John crossed his arms, regarding him with the warmth of an iceberg.
"You're his brother. I'm surprised you felt right to not breathe a single word."
"It wasn't your call," John stated. "I thought an old war hero like yourself would understand, maybe appreciate, some discretion."
"My daughter could die," Petrovsky ground out, expertly suppressing the emotions beneath. "For some reason I cannot understand, she likes your brother. I don't want that to nag her as she nears the date of birth. She needs as little drama as possible, something your family does not understand."
John stepped toe-to-toe with him. Petrovsky still towered over the younger Shepard, but John was in peak physical condition as an active duty soldier. "I don't think you heard me."
"I don't think you're hearing me, boy," Petrovsky spoke with the calm that years of debating stupid decisions had instilled in him. "I will do anything to protect my daughter. Tell your pathetic brother that if he even thinks of adding any extra stress to her situation, I will personally put him out of his psychotic misery."
"There you are," Galena called, coming between them. "Oh, hello, John. Handsome as always," she said, putting a hand to his cheek. "Congratulations on your engagement."
Petrovsky saw something akin to panic in Shepard's eye, but it faded as quickly as the artificial sun rays above them. "Ah...yes, thanks." Shepard raised a hand to the back of his neck. "Excuse me, I should go."
"Of course." Galena turned back to her husband and scowled. "Are you trying to turn us into pariahs?"
"We already are," Petrovsky said, watching as John walked away to rejoin his friends. Ashley reached out to him but he shrugged her off and knelt beside Michael as he checked the tires.
"Just once, I would love to see my daughter not avoiding you," Galena mused, putting both hands on either side of his cheeks and forcing his head her way. "Is that possible anymore, Oleg?"
"As long as I am still breathing, it is inevitable." Oleg kissed her briefly and smiled. Long ago he wanted to destroy the Shepards, blaming them for all the misfortune that befell his daughter. But it seemed like they would do the work for him.