Chapter 23

"Okay, let's go over it one more time."

Lakota stood at the main command console that activated and controlled the large holographic map in the center of the War Room. Her squad mates, both old and new, were gathered around the circular array focusing their attention on the 3D image of the planet Eletania. During the crash landing on Pragia the room had sustained some minor damage, but over the last few weeks, Alliance crews had repaired those issues. They also completed the remaining portion of the retrofit that was halted when the Normandy made its narrow escape just as the war on Earth broke out. With the upgraded data consoles, updated interactive war map and renovated private Quantum Entanglement Communications room, the War Room was once again fully functional.

Only one member of the crew wasn't attending the meeting, Alliance pilot Steve Cortez. He was in the cargo bay prepping and finishing the final system checks on both Normandy shuttles.

"Garrus," the Spectre said, turning her head to the left to look at the Turian, "we'll start with you."

As he cleared his throat, the former vigilante adjusted his shoulders, which straightened his posture. His grey and black armor made the movement look awkward and stiff. "I'll be leading the first squad to the mercenary main base where we'll install and activate a series of well-placed communication buoys. The goal is to hijack their communications and security network."

"From the intel we've gathered, their communication system is laughably outdated. Taking control of it won't be a problem," Tali said, sounding smug.

Nodding his head in approval, Garrus continued. "Vega will fly us down in a shuttle. Tali, EDI and Alenko will take care of the buoys. Jack, Grunt and I will make sure no one bothers them. Once we're finished we give the signal to the second squad."

"And if you're discovered?" Lakota asked.

"If discovered," the Turian said, "then the real fun begins. We'll hold our position, get the buoys activated, then keep their attention on us, which will allow the second squad time to explore the Prothean ruin. Hopefully unhindered."

"Hopefully," Lakota echoed, then turned her head toward Liara. "And what's the second squad doing?"

The Asari met the Spectre's intense gaze. The pair had always been adept at separating their personal and professional lives and this moment was no different. Liara's reply was both cool and precise. "We'll be in the second shuttle which Steve will be piloting. Once we get the signal, Javik, Samara, you and I will be flown to the site of the Prothean ruin. We investigate and get out. Hopefully without being noticed."

Despite her best effort not to, Lakota chuckled. "Hopefully seems to be a running theme on this mission."

"Then hopefully you'll be listening to me," Miranda said sardonically. She stood across from the Spectre, eyeing her with playful suspiciousness. "I'll be overseeing both squads from the Normandy. Specialist Traynor will be monitoring the mercenaries' comm traffic. If needed, she'll create a diversion to make sure no other troops get shuttled down to the planet."

Smiling impishly, the Spectre said, "Hopefully… that won't be needed."

"With you," Miranda sassed, "it's better to prepare for the worst, than hope for the best."

Lakota scowled in feigned offense. "You're such a cynic."

Miranda smiled sweetly. "I call it being realistic."

"I think of it as being practical," Liara said innocently, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Tali raised her hand, then said, "Sensible."

Garrus scoffed. "Pragmatic."

"Well-informed," Samara offered, a subtle smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Jack rolled her eyes. "Not a fucking moron," she barked.

"I have been studying the game of poker," EDI stated, the recessed lighting in the room illuminating her metal skin in a subtle grey halo. "I believe the phrase 'it's a good bet' is relevant in this situation."

Kaidan tilted his head imperceptibly, gazing at the synthetic and then nodded. "I'm going with experienced."

Javik and Grunt looked at each other, shook their heads, but remained silent.

Vega shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Lakota said teasingly, "Et tu, Vega?"

"Hey," the soldier retorted, "I don't call you loca for nothing, you know."

Traynor looked up from her console. "Um… I guess I should be grateful I've never been on one of Shepard's missions."

…

Once the meeting ended, the squad members adjourned to prepare for the planet-side operation. They had three hours before the Normandy would be in Eletania's space. Just after Lakota shutdown the holographic map, Miranda asked to see her privately, so she followed the former Cerberus officer to the elevator. The Spectre chuckled to herself when she noticed every pair of eyes, male and female alike, following them as they passed by. She knew what had captured their attention. It was the dark-haired biotic's confident air mixed with the subtle but provocative swagger of her hips, which were covered by a skintight black leather jumpsuit with gold tinting. The tight leather hugged every inch of Miranda's body perfectly, leaving just enough mystery for an observer's imagination to run wild with possibilities.

They exited the elevator on deck three and moved quickly through the corridor to the life support room. Miranda was currently using it as both an office and living quarters.

Although Thane Krios hadn't been a member of her crew for over a year, Lakota still thought of the space as his. Since his untimely death at the hands of the Cerberus assassin, Kai Leng, she had avoided the room entirely. Mourning the loss of a fallen comrade was a luxury she hadn't had time for during the war and she didn't have time for it now. Her grief and sense of loss would have to wait for a private moment when she felt she could honor him properly. As for her fury and need for vengeance, both had been satisfied when she impaled Kai Leng with her omni-blade, twisting it into his gut as she cursed his name. Thane may have been content with a warrior's death, but Lakota would never be content with a friend's life being taken prematurely.

After stepping into the rectangular shaped room, Lakota paused briefly to take in the familiar yet somewhat new surroundings. Minus Miranda's personal items, her armory assortment on the wall, a new desk and an uncomfortable looking cot, the space looked the same as she remembered. The Alliance retrofit team had not made any structural changes as they had in other parts of the ship.

"I have something for you," Miranda said as she placed a black, hard-shell case on her cot. No other surface would hold the large oblong shaped container. She opened the case and stepped away, giving the Spectre her first glimpse of its contents.

"My old armor and… Menhit, my pistol." Lakota named all of her personal weapons after goddesses from Earth folklore or myths, and her pistol had been no exception. Menhit was an Egyptian goddess of war whose name meant "she who massacres." This never failed to put a smile on the Spectre's face when she explained it to those on the other side of the barrel. Slowly, she stepped next to the cot, her eyes drinking in the sight of the prized equipment.

"That's not all. Check the compartment underneath." Miranda smiled. She had never seen the Spectre's expression so unguarded, and right now it was a full of wonderment and excitement. Like a child on Christmas morning who, for the first time, had spotted all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.

Lakota lifted the shelf, which locked into place with folding hinges, revealing the hidden niche below. "No way," she whispered, staring into the case as though not believing what she was seeing. "Santa Muerte… my sniper rifle…" Reaching out with her left hand, she gently stroked the length of the rifle with utmost care and reverence. The metal felt cool and familiar beneath her fingertips. "But how?" she asked, turning to look directly at the brunette. "I gave these to Liara before I surrendered to the Alliance. Then her base was destroyed…"

Miranda tilted her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "You know Liara maintained her persona as an information broker on Illium?"

"Yes," Lakota said, her gaze shifting back to her rifle. "She said it would be a good ruse if anyone got suspicious of her current activities. Then she could claim to just be an agent for the Shadow Broker. Last I knew she still had her office and apartment."

"And she still does. Apparently the Reapers weren't prepared for the mettle and resolve of Illium's corporate racketeers."

Lakota frowned. "Racketeers have resolve?"

"When protecting their fortunes."

"How noble."

Miranda sat back on the corner of her desk, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Regardless of their motivations, the byproduct remains the same. The planet and its population avoided massacre."

That statement caught the Spectre's attention. "How did they manage that?" she asked. Green eyes pulled away from the coveted sniper rifle to look directly into blue.

"Illium's leaders were paranoid about keeping their fortunes intact, so they used their influence in both the Terminus and Citadel space to acquire a large defense fleet which included a high number of fission weapons. When the Reapers arrived and the battle started, they used them on the Reaper fleet's troop transports rather than their capital ships. They wiped out Reaper ground forces before any got planet-side."

"Smart tactic," Lakota said, sounding impressed.

"Yes. And since the Reapers sent only two capital ships to the planet, it didn't take long for their supply of husks to be destroyed."

Lakota tilted her head as if letting the words sink in. "No husks, no ground forces. No ground forces, no fodder for the processing plants."

Miranda nodded, pursing her lips in disgust. "And no way to… resupply their stock of ground forces." Shuddering involuntarily she remembered the horrid vids exposing the purpose of Reaper processing plants as they butchered organics and used their liquefied DNA and tissue to create new husks or Reaper variants.

"It's nice to hear one successful underdog story."

"I don't know if successful is the word I'd use. The capital ships still did a lot of damage."

The Spectre shook her head in disagreement. "They weren't harvested and processed into genetic abominations. That counts as successful in my book."

"I agree with you there," Miranda said, sighing heavily.

Getting the conversation back on track, Lakota asked, "What does Illium have to do with my equipment?"

"On the off-chance that she'd have to leave the Hagalaz base in a hurry, Liara stored important personal items, including your gear, in her apartment. For safekeeping. While you were in the New Zealand hospital, she asked me to look into retrieving it. I assume she didn't want you running into battle naked."

The Spectre grinned. The armor and gear she had carried with her during the battle on Earth had been either lost or destroyed, so the sight of this highly valued gear was heartening and did much to fortify her resolve. "I'm amazed you were able to get it here."

"It took some finagling and a few well-placed bribes to get it on a transport headed toward Earth, but…" While her voice trailed off, the brunette's left hand made a grand sweeping motion in the air as though unveiling the case and its contents for the first time.

Lakota bowed her head slightly in gratitude. "Thank you."

"I didn't do it alone. Liara was the one with enough foresight to keep it all safe."

"Oh, I plan on thanking her, too."

Smirking, Miranda said, "I'm sure you do." Then, she stood and walked over to the cot. "I took the liberty of having Tali upgrade the armor with some new atmospheric filters. Leave it to you to think it's vital to explore the only Prothean ruin on a toxic planet."

"It's not the only one," Lakota said, sounding a tad defensive.

"Name another," Miranda challenged.

The Spectre lowered her head, running through a list of known Prothean ruins and their locations. "I can't right now," she grumbled, "but when I do, I'll be back."

"I won't wait up."

Ignoring the teasing comment, Lakota picked up the sniper rifle with both hands, testing its weight and visually inspecting its condition. "Looks good. Feels great."

"If it doesn't meet your needs, Vega has a few more for you to check out in the cargo bay."

"Nah… this will work perfectly. I'll test and recalibrate it down in the bay just to be on the safe side, though." Sighing nostalgically, Lakota said, "My old armor, pistol and trusty rifle… these bring back some really good memories."

"Oh, right… Like exploring abandoned areas and expecting something mechanical or monstrous to jump out at any moment." Miranda put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Good memories."

"Exactly," Lakota said absentmindedly. She was wholly absorbed in her "thought-to-be-lost-forever" sniper rifle and completely missed the brunette's sarcasm.

…

Ten minutes later, the Spectre was in her quarters examining her old armor. If Tali had upgraded its environmental filters, Lakota knew she would have also given the rest of it a thorough check up. And who better to upgrade and repair a suit of armor then an engineering genius who has spent her whole life in an environmental suit?

The Illusive Man sent her the armor just after she had been given control of the Normandy SR-2 and she immediately altered it to meet her very specific infiltration skill set. For her own amusement, she had the color of the armor changed to a deep crimson. More often than not, rushing at the enemy awash in the color of blood made them hesitate and that was all the edge she needed. The battle-scarred armor had survived countless skirmishes, the Collector's attack on Horizon, the overthrow of the previous Shadow Broker and the destruction of the Collector base which had orbited the edge of a black hole. It had been through hell and back and remained intact, like it was asking for more.

As she ran her fingertips over the armor's cold, smooth surface she noted a few scratches and smiled. After months of enduring one loss after another, she was glad to finally have something of personal value returned to her. And admittedly, it seemed rather serendipitous for her old gear to be returned on the eve of battle.

Without warning a distinctive chirp sounded through the air, then a soothing voice said, "Commander."

Shaken out of her reverie, Lakota replied, "Go ahead, EDI."

"I've finished analyzing the Geth data. You were correct. The red energy appears to have targeted the Geth platforms with Sovereign's original Reaper code."

"How certain is the data?"

"There is less than one percent chance of error."

"That's not very specific," Lakota teased. "You're usually down to the 'one-point-dot-dot'." Before donning her armor, she needed to remove her Alliance uniform, starting with her military issue black boots.

"I've discovered that humans are more comfortable with generalities when it concerns percentages and statistics."

"You've studied us well," Lakota commented as she pulled her uniform top over her head, then tossed it on her bed.

"Yes, Commander, but not without purpose."

Grinning, the Spectre unbuckled her navy blue pants. "Just waiting for your time of reckoning?" Then, she proceeded to push the trousers to the ground, stepping out of each leg and deftly tossing the garment to the bed with her right foot.

"How did you know?"

To Lakota's ear, the tone of the synthetic's voice sounded disappointed. "You need a new punchline," she said as she opened a drawer and grabbed a black, long-sleeved shirt and matching pants.

"I'll work on it."

The Spectre began pulling on the black pants. The clothing was thin and resembled silk long underwear but was actually the base layer used before putting on armor to help prevent chafing. The knit synthetic blend was designed to regulate body temperature by pulling heat away from the body when hot and then feeding that stored heat back to the body when the wearer became cool. The unique blend also had moisture wicking properties to help keep the wearer dry.

"EDI, for now, let's keep this information private. Until I know what to do with it, I don't want it on any official records."

"Of course, Commander. It will be our little secret."

Lakota chuckled. For a synthetic being, EDI had the nuances of organic's dry humor down to a tee. From the deadpan verbal inflection to seizing the most opportune moment to deliver the subtle but clever zinger. "Thanks," she said.

Then, without further ado, she began putting on her old, trusted armor, piece by piece.

…

Once she had finished suiting up, the Spectre went down to the cargo bay to calibrate both her pistol and sniper rifle. The enhancements she had originally installed on the firearms had already been updated to the latest versions—she assumed Miranda had had that done, so she was focused on re-familiarizing herself with the nuances of each weapon. To achieve near-perfect performance, snipers needed complete confidence in their weapons and their abilities, and since no two rifles fire precisely the same, it's imperative that they practice firing it under many different conditions. Snipers have to know exactly where the round will impact when calculating a particular distance. Being aware of how a sniper rifle responds in different environments, how it handles in extreme situations and even its durability is all life-saving knowledge and Lakota applied this wisdom to every piece of weaponry she used.

Placing her sniper rifle, Santa Muerte, on the upgrade bench, Lakota began her visual inspection.

"I haven't seen that rifle in a long time."

Recognizing the familiar voice, Lakota looked over her shoulder and flashed a quick smile. "Jealous, Garrus?"

"Maybe," the Turian replied, as he stepped next her, laying his assault rifle down on the bench. "Or maybe I'm just surprised any weapon of yours has lasted this long."

"If I wasn't constantly saving your ass, maybe they would last longer."

"They'd last longer if you didn't use them like a stick."

Lakota turned to the Turian ready to snap back with playful retort, but stopped short when she saw what was on his armored chest. "What the hell is that?" she barked.

His expression unreadable, Garrus pointed to a badge he was wearing that said, "The Reapers made me do it."

The Spectre scowled in irritation.

"What?" Garrus asked innocently. "Too soon?"

"Not at all. I'm just pissed you didn't get one for me."

"I thought you might be skittish. You know… the whole stigma concerning that pesky indoctrination thing."

"Not at all. I could use it to my advantage when talking with the Council." Lakota picked up her sniper rifle with both hands, turning it slightly, inspecting all angles.

"I'd love to hear that conversation."

"It would be brief. I'd say, 'Reapers tried to control me. Where are they now? Exactly.'" The Spectre slapped a thermal clip into her rifle, dramatically punctuating the statement. "Point. Set. Match."

Garrus nodded in approval. "Bold. I like it."

Smirking, Lakota said, "I thought you might."

Noticing movement out of the corner of her eye, the Spectre turned her head in time to see Liara and Javik step out of the elevator followed by Grunt. Empty space on the Normandy was a luxury, so the Krogan and Prothean were currently sharing the same living space. Neither appeared to mind the arrangement, although Javik seemed slightly quick to anger since Grunt's arrival. Lakota assumed it was due to the Prothean's ability to read the biological markers left in the residual DNA. Knowing Grunt's disposition toward aggression, the Spectre was impressed that Javik wasn't more affected by bunking with the young Krogan.

Catching Liara's eye, Lakota lifted up the sniper rifle in her left hand and made sweeping motion down her armored body with her right. Then she bowed her head in appreciation while mouthing the words "thank you."

The researcher responded by smiling and giving the Spectre a playful wink as she continued toward a shuttle.

The remaining members of the squad had already arrived in the cargo bay and were preparing for the mission. Tali was finishing some enhancements to her combat drone while Samara sat nearby, meditating in a lotus pose, looking utterly serene even amidst the chaos around her. Jack rummaged through the gunnery, discarding shotguns as quickly as she picked them up. Vega and Cortez kept themselves occupied by going over the shuttle checklists one last time.

In thirty minutes the first shuttle would head towards the planet surface and the next phase of their adventure would begin.

Before the mission began and things became chaotic, Lakota wanted to update Liara about what she had learned from EDI regarding the energy wave. She wasn't sure what to make of the new information, but maybe the researcher would have a theory as to why only synthetics with Sovereign's Reaper code were targeted.

She finished her visual and physical examination of Santa Muerte, then fired a few rounds, verifying the rifle's capabilities. Vega and Cortez had equipped a two stall firing range in the cargo bay. It was basic but better than nothing when testing upgrade modules and specialized ammo clips. When she was satisfied, she secured the rifle on her back, then went through the same steps with her pistol, Menhit.

It didn't take long before she had holstered the pistol, then moved away from the range in search of Liara.

"Shepard, hold on a second."

The Spectre stopped, turning toward the newcomer. "Kaidan, what's up?"

"Before we head down to the planet, I just want to make sure…" Kaidan hesitated, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck. "We're good, right?"

"Yeah, sure." Even to her own ears, Lakota thought her reply was less than convincing.

Although the Major was smiling, he looked a bit apprehensive. Then, he held out his right hand. "I just want to be sure there are no hard feelings."

Lakota regarded him for a moment, thinking the gesture seemed odd, but then reached out to shake his hand. As soon as their skin touched she felt a jolt like an electric shock shoot up her arm. A second later she pulled herself away and had her pistol pointed at him.

"Shepard? What the hell?" Alenko said, looking startled by the sudden shift in temperament.

"On second thought, you'll be staying right here, Major."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just not convinced I can trust you right now." Lakota couldn't explain it rationally, but she knew in her gut, her intuitive self, that the man's loyalties were conflicted. He hadn't yet decided what took precedence regarding this mission: his duty as an Alliance solider, a Council Spectre or a friend.

Alenko shook his head adamantly. "I would never betray you."

"Yes, you would." Green eyes showed a glint of brilliance and danger that bespoke a woman who took chances and usually found herself on top. "But only once. And since I like you and don't want to go down that road, I'm going to make sure you don't interfere."

"Shepard, you can trust me."

Lakota laughed harshly. Rather than being comforting, the Major's words generated a sensation more closely associated to feeling like poison coursing through her veins, which created a cold, sinking feeling in the middle of her gut as though a ball of ice was forming. It was unpleasant.

Her eyes narrowed menacingly and she kept her gun pointed at the man's head. "Trust the word of a Spectre?" she said. "I don't think so."

Shocked, Alenko spat, "But you're a Spectre!"

Lakota snickered then flashed a wry grin. "Yeah… I wouldn't trust me either."

The undeniable outrage displayed on the Major's face also radiated through every fiber of his being. His jaw was clenched so tight that the tendons in his neck stood out.

Before he could say anything, Vega stepped forward, careful not to place himself between them and into the line of fire. Looking concerned, he said, "Commander, this is loco."

Lakota raised her left hand in the soldier's direction, palm up, a signal for him to stop. "Back off, James. This isn't Alliance business. This is Spectre business." She glanced at the hulking man out of the corner of her eye. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill him. Just lock him up until we get back to the ship."

"You can't do this," Alenko challenged hotly.

Lakota smiled without humor. "Yet I'm going to anyway."

The moment Lakota had pointed her pistol at Alenko, the rest of the squad gathered around them. The tension in the air was thick, combustible, but strained situations were fairly commonplace when traveling on the Normandy, so nobody reacted. Instead, they watched and waited to see how the scene unfolded.

"Shepard, I've done nothing wrong! I was going down to that planet to help you!" The Major's plea sounded impassioned and genuine.

"I know that's what you believe, Kaidan… but I don't. You're staying on the Normandy."

Anger flashed across the Major's face, but as he took a step toward Lakota a biotic stasis field unexpectedly surrounded him. He was frozen mid-step. He could breathe, hear and see, but he couldn't move his head or any extremities.

Lakota holstered her pistol, then glanced back at Liara, who stood just behind her. Violet tendrils of biotic energy were still coiling around the researcher's arm. She gave the Asari a quick, adoring smile. Kaidan had been foolish to make any threatening move toward her with Liara watching on.

"We can do this the easy way," Lakota said as she turned her attention back to the immobile man, "or we can do this the much easier way." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Blink once if you want Dr. Chakwas to strap you to a med bed and pump you so full of drugs that it will take you a week to wake up… or blink twice if you want to be locked comfortably away in the observation lounge. Either one is solitary confinement to me, so I'll leave the choice up to you." Her smile was as mirthless as a knife blade.

Kaidan somehow managed to look furious as he blinked twice.

"Garrus," Lakota said, "when the stasis drops, please escort the Major to the observation lounge."

Without hesitation the Turian replied, "Will do."

The Spectre turned towards EDI's mobile platform, which had entered the cargo bay just prior to Kaidan stopping her. "Make sure he stays locked up until I get back. He's not to be released unless I give the okay."

"Yes, Shepard," EDI said.

Lakota was impressed. The drama that just unfolded didn't seem to agitate the rest of the squad and most had returned to preparing for the mission. She had seen a few questioning looks, but they faded away almost as soon as they appeared. All except one.

"James," the Spectre said, as she laid a hand on his forearm. The soldier was visually inspecting his assault rifle for the fourth time. "You okay with this?"

"I am, Commander," Vega said, lowering his rifle and looking her directly in the eyes. "But maybe someday, you'll explain it to me."

As the soldier walked off, Lakota looked at the hand that had shook Kaidan's hand and that had just now touched Vega's forearm. "I would if I could, James," she whispered to herself. "I would if I could."