"My employer wants Subject Zero returned, now," the agent said simply. "It's time for her to contribute one hundred percent to the war effort. We trust you won't have any problems with this?"
Rogers smiled, but not out of humor. "Of course not. I've been expecting your employer to want his property returned. We'll arrange the pickup once I'm out of Alliance Space—they don't like human trafficking, and that's what this will look like. I'll contact you again from Omega."
As much as she liked having Jack's powers at her disposal, the biotic was a little more broken or twisted than any other member of her crew. Too much so for Rogers' comfort, and it surprised her to admit this when she felt confident of being able to control Jack.
Control was the thing. But even now, she found that some things, controlled things, were simply not worth the effort put into containment measures. It was time to reevaluate the situation.
The reevaluation demanded change…and she would much rather be in Cerberus' employ than out of it. It was more interesting than her Corsair work.
The agent severed the call, leaving Rogers alone in the briefing room. She turned her omnitool's recording function off, storing the conversation under encryption and behind many walls. Rogers did not take chances: everyone had the potential to switch sides and if she found herself at odds with Cerberus, she would certainly not hesitate to throw them under the CRT car.
Be a hero.
She detested being a hero, but whatever it took to survive and keep her command. "VI monitoring protocols: reactivate. VI, please send Officer Browne to the communications suite at his earliest convenience." At his earliest convenience. Code-talk for 'get his ass up here right now.' "Also, prepare for FTL jump to the Omega Relay. We'll initiate travel as soon as I get back from my briefing."
For a program supposedly separate from the Alliance service branches, Rogers found this to be inaccurate. The Alliance was comprised of control freaks—one of the reason she had done so well under their thumb…but no more.
She knew very well there were no more promotions for her, part of the reason she'd been so please to assist in the making-public of Shepard's Cerberus ties. It was rather amusing to hear about Captain Sheffler tearing about the galaxy looking for a Cerberus mole with strong Alliance ties.
And of course he would hit on Shepard: disappointment did strange things to people.
But none of that mattered, now. She had other issues with which to contend.
Within minutes, d'Angelo Browne appeared, the charcoal grey of his uniform making his skin look a ghastly yellow. Not very imaginative of his parents, naming an albino 'd'Angelo', but parents were sometimes rather silly about naming their offspring. "Commander?"
"Did you do like I told you and make friends with little Jack?"
"Of course I did."
"Good. The time has come for her to be reassigned." She motioned him to follow her, which he did, right to the XO's quarters. From the base of a rather ordinary statue of smooth geometrical design, Rogers produced a small hypospray, which she examined thoughtfully. "Bioengineered to be unique to her, it'll put her under until we can make the drop."
"To where is she being reassigned?"
"Little children have to go home eventually. Or so it should be, don't you agree?" Rogers tossed him the sedative, watched as d'Angelo negligently closed his hand around it.
"To Cerberus."
"I'm afraid so."
"Don't lie," d'Angelo's voice took on a cold quality, tactfully reminding Rogers with whom she was dealing. "I can tell with you, Eva. I can always tell."
And he could, too. Rogers narrowed her eyes, suppressing the irritation. That was a drawback of working with d'Angelo: he found people's tells, learned how to identify when they lied…or, sometimes, when they were not being quite truthful. "All right, I'm not afraid so. So much for being sympathetically tactful."
"You know what they'll do to her. She won't come out of that any the better."
A deep unease twinged. "If you want to keep her, I suppose I could arrange it. But think of the thousands who will die for want of whatever it is Cerberus needs from her. It's your choice." She held d'Angelo's eyes until he looked away. He swallowed hard, pursed his lips, an attitude of acquiescence to the necessity. "Now. I said prep the girl for transport. Cerberus wants her—or her brainpan. Frankly, I'll be glad to have the walking ruin off my ship. She's more trouble than she's worth. If I have to hold her hand any longer…" All d'Angelo's coddling and coaxing, trying to make her 'the better person' so as to make her more controllable…it was really quite insufferable.
"You made it clear I was to do the hand-holding."
So, he had used that path to ingratiate himself with Jack. Well, whatever worked, though Rogers was a bit surprised. She would not have guessed that old tactic would work on Jack. Or maybe it was d'Angelo's idealism and conviction that he was out saving the galaxy, yet he himself professed knowing he couldn't do it alone or to his own satisfaction. Who knew what appealed to girls like Jack? "I don't care what you were holding, d'Angelo, as long as you have her trust."
"She's in my care, Eva."
"Yes, and you've done a marvelous job with her. But you're not a fool, 'd'Angelo." Rogers made her voice as persuasive as she could. This was all normal for d'Angelo: it was his way of testing whether their goals were still compatible. "She's unstable, and it worries you. You've stopped her little tantrums from going critical twice already, but can you do it again? Dope her, secure her, and prepare for FTL jump. Now."
"Of course. We must all bow to the necessity," he said quietly, almost resignedly.
"Precisely. I'm glad we still find our goals compatible."