5. LOAD
Pragia
Trees erupted from every crevice, stretching their canopies up towards the sky, where the wind shredded their leaves and the low clouds boiled black and blue. The air was heavy with the smell of wet earth and ozone. Lightning flashed cold and white, throwing tree-shaped shadows over the stark geometry of the shuttered Teltin facility.
Jack jumped out of the shuttle before it had stopped moving and stared at the complex with wide eyes, heedless of the rain hissing from the sky, of the goosebumps rising on her thin bare arms.
Shepard hopped down onto the deck and heard the quiet thump of Garrus following suit behind her. The rain pattered against her helmet, making the comm pickup twitch on and off. Their kinetic barriers flickered indecisively.
Jack glanced back at her, jaw clenched. Shepard nodded.
The three of them approached the Teltin facility in silence, shields blinking in and out of the darkness.
The front doors emerged out of grey mist, down at the bottom of a long stretch of walkway. Jack growled under her breath and stalked forward, back tense, arms stiff.
Garrus paused beside Shepard, reached up and switched off his comm. Shepard gave him a questioning look.
"Why am I here," he said, his voice low and flat under the drumbeat of the rain.
She put her thumb over her helmet mic. "Because we're both professionals, and we've got a job to do."
He just folded his arms and looked at her. Water ran down along the underside of his painted cheekbone, trailed down to the sharp corner of his chin.
"I don't want this festering and turning into a thing where we can't work together," she said, irritated. "Plus, I did say I'd take you out next time. A promise is a promise." She glanced down the stairs at the dark sprawl of the abandoned building below them. "Don't know if there's gonna be all that much to shoot though."
"Ghosts," he speculated, gazing down at Jack. The little biotic was struggling with the rusted-out door controls.
"I've heard bullets don't work on them so well," Shepard said.
"Oh? That's too bad. Bullets are all I've got." He leveled a dead stare at her. "Maybe you should have brought somebody else."
So, it was going to be like that. Fine.
Below them, Jack let out a shout of frustration and caved in the doors with a burst of blue fire.
"Sorry, Vakarian. You're stuck here now." Shepard patted his arm, gave him a sugary smile. "If you get bored, you can always try shooting me in the back."
Child-sized shipping containers. Child-sized jail cells. Child-sized dissection tables.
Shepard shook her head. Until now, some small part of her brain had been convinced that Jack was just making all this shit up. It sounded like the horror stories she and the other slum kids used to tell to scare the crap out of each other. Mysterious abductors, bright lights, sharp knives. Experiments.
But Teltin sure looked like it was the real deal. The smell of stale disinfectant hung in the air.
They splashed through puddles, crunched over broken glass and tile, crushed ferns and grasses underfoot. They ducked under streams of rainwater pouring from gashes in the ceiling. Jumped over tangled masses of roots muscling up through the floor.
Pragia's lethal ecology was ripping the building to pieces. If they waited five years, there'd be nothing left for Jack to bomb.
Shepard paused in front of a console, fiddled with her omni-tool. "Hold up. The memory in this thing's still active. I've got part of a videolog here."
Jack appeared immediately at her side, vibrating with tension. "Put it on. Show me."
The flickering outline of an armored guard. —The Illusive Man's getting suspicious. When we get results, he won't care what we did here. But if he knew...
Garrus tilted his head to one side. "It sounds like the facility went rogue."
"Bullshit," Jack hissed.
He won't find out, the guard said firmly.
Jack reached a skinny arm over Shepard and slapped at the input panel. The guard fizzed away into static. "No fucking way they didn't know about this place!"
Shepard agreed one hundred-fucking-percent. How dumb did Cerberus think she was? The console stood underneath one of the rare undamaged skylights, untouched by the ravages of rainwater or vegetation. It had just enough power left in its backup system for her omni-tool to detect it and alert her. It had just enough uncorrupted data left in its flash memory for her to recover a complete file.
And the nine seconds of videolog she'd unearthed struck precisely at the rotten heart of the matter. If they found any evidence that the Illusive Man was involved, nothing would be able to stop Jack from launching a nuclear strike within the Normandy. As he well knew.
So Cerberus underestimated Shepard's intelligence. That was good. But EDI lived inside her helmet, its synthetic eye trained on every pixel in the feed from her camera, its artificial ear listening to every cut-off swear word and puff of breath into her microphone. That was... inconvenient. Shepard needed to play her cards close to her chest.
"There may be more answers further along," she said blandly, ignoring Garrus's startled glance. "Let's keep moving."
What the fuck was the Blood Pack doing here? Shepard sank behind a low wall as they opened fire.
"Guess you'll get something to shoot after all," she said to Garrus over the comm.
"Just in time," he murmured back. His rifle cracked. A vorcha's head exploded on the far side of the room. "I was starting to get dangerously bored."
Ass. Shepard straightened up and put some bullet holes into another vorcha's chest. Jack flared blue and hurled the creature up at the ceiling. The body slammed and dropped, leaving a gelatinous orange-red stain behind.
"Krogan," Garrus called out as a merc trundled up the walkway towards their position.
"On it," she replied, and moved up to intercept. She leaned around a tree trunk sprouting from middle of the floor and launched a nasty Warp that shredded the merc's nervous system and buckled his armor. The krogan's howl choked out an instant later as a high-caliber bullet punched through the soft flesh under his eye.
Garrus made a satisfied rumble into the comm. "Scratch one."
The krogan toppled to the ground.
Easy as breathing. She really did like fighting with him.
"I'll have to round up some more to keep you entertained," she said, a watchful eye on the bridge, where the Blood Pack leader and his goons were hunkered down.
Jack was up ahead on the western side of the atrium, shouting curses and tearing Vorcha apart with a combination of biotics, bullets, and bare hands. It was probably the most fun she'd ever get to have on this wreck of a planet. Shepard left her to it, and began slowly working her way up towards the bridge, slipping from cover to cover.
"Shepard." Garrus made a harsh clicking sound into the comm. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going in to soften those krogan up for you," she said, sneaking around an upended operating table. "Hang tight."
"I'm coming with you."
In the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blue and black slide out from behind a column. "The hell you are! Hold position."
He let out a humorless bark of a laugh. "Oh? There's three of them, and one of you. And you're walking in head first." His voice dropped into a low purr. "I thought you were supposed to be good at field tactics. Or is that N7 drawn on with crayon?"
Shepard ground her teeth. Just when she'd been starting to enjoy herself.
Getting killed hadn't been on her agenda for today, but now she found herself eyeing the leader's shotgun— loaded with shredder rounds, if she wasn't mistaken— with grim interest.
She could just... walk in head first.
It would be simple. Brutal. Messy. Four or five steps, then BLAM. Levo-amino brains and intestines everywhere. If she got really lucky, maybe some bits would fly back far enough to land on his face.
Pity that her slow-boiling rage over Garrus's insubordinate, hypocritical, overprotective horseshit was marginally outweighed by her loathing for the Blood Pack. Even a victory instantly rewound and erased was a victory she wouldn't allow them.
Next time they were up against mechs, though... Her lips parted in a twisted grin. First, she'd make sure he was paying attention. Then, she'd walk backwards into their bullets with open arms and a smile. In the instant before the world blinked out and reset itself, she'd savor the look on his face as he watched her disintegrate.
Maybe she could arrange it so her middle finger was last to go.
But, in the meantime, they had some krogan to kill.
"This is a tactical decision, Vakarian," she snapped into the comm. "If you're going to follow orders, then stay put while I strip their armor for you."
She rose and stalked towards the bridge, sidestepping careless shotgun bursts from above, her clenched fists glowing violet, her nerves flooded with electricity.
"And if you're not going to follow orders," she continued as she ducked behind a broken pillar, "You can save us both some heartbreak, and fuck off already."
"Heartbreak," he murmured. "Didn't know you cared, Shepard." But he stayed put.
Her biotic energy pulsed and writhed, singing a high note in her head. Too bad Teltin hadn't hired her on as a consultant. She could have given those scientists an idea or two about enhancing biotic potential. To paraphrase Massani, rage was a hell of a catalyst.
She crushed her murderous intent down into a little ball, and hurled it in the form of a savage Warp at the first krogan. He choked and stumbled, clawed at his eyes with shaking hands.
Garrus's bullet perforated his throat an instant later. The Blood Pack leader started to look a little nervous, and reinforced his biotic barrier.
Shepard ignored him and ducked under an incendiary blast, then rose back up and destroyed his lieutenant with a vicious, twisting Warp that ground him against the wall. His brow ridge shattered as Garrus's rifle round cleaved through his skull, forcing bone and blood and brain matter out of its path.
The leader roared his fury and took off running, barreling down the ramp towards her. Shepard grinned and cracked her knuckles.
Jack stepped up behind her, panting and wiping flecks of orangey blood off her face. "Need a hand?"
Actually, she had been hoping to kill the merc leader on her own, preferably with her bare hands.
But Jack was a good kid. "You're right on time," Shepard said, and stepped aside to give her room.
Warp, Shockwave, bullets, Pull, headshot, dead. The body hung suspended in the air for a long, almost comical moment, then collapsed with a meaty thump.
"Good work, team." Shepard clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Move out."
They found a small, dark room with an operating chair, filthy with stains and dirt and blooms of mildew. The wrist and ankle cuffs were rusted open, edges blackened with old blood.
"This is a bad place," Jack said, her voice small.
Another console, and predictably, another videolog. A scientist with a Cerberus logo on his sleeve.
We lowered the core temperatures of all surviving subjects, but no biotically beneficial reactions occured. As a side effect, all subjects died.
So... we won't try that on Zero.
I hope our supply of biotic potentials holds up. We are going through them fast.
Jack stood rigid.
"All of this was for you," Garrus said, disbelieving. "The other children were expendable."
"This is bullshit!" Jack paced back and forth over the cracked tile, hands pressed to her head. "I had it the worst out of everyone! They hated me! I only survived this place because I was tougher and stronger than the rest. Not because they were protecting me!"
"There may have been things going on that you didn't see," Shepard said gently, aware that EDI's synthetic ear hung on her every word. "You were locked in a cell. How could you know?"
The playback skipped to the next log entry. The subjects are rampaging. Zero got loose in the chaos. We're shutting Teltin down. What a disaster.
"A lot of this... isn't the way I remember it," Jack whispered.
Shepard cast a cynical eye back at the console. Probably because the cleanup crew got here first.
They stepped between doors emblazoned with Cerberus logos, and found themselves inside Jack's childhood home. Mildew stained the walls. The floor was falling apart. Shepard's boots sank into soft dirt.
A thickness to the air. Breathing. Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Come out. We know you're here."
A human man, haggard and pale, stepped out in front of them. "My name is Aresh." His gaze shifted to Jack, and his eyes widened. "Subject Zero."
"Jack," she corrected him.
"Subject Zero," he breathed.
Aresh apparently had ranked somewhere in between Subjects One and Fifty.
Looking at him, Shepard began to think that maybe the Cerberus scientists really had been trying, in their own warped way, to keep Jack safe. Jack was fucked in the head, but she was young, fierce, alive. Crackling with energy.
Aresh was... well, logically, he and Jack had to be about the same age. But his eyes were dull, his face creased and sunken. He moved and spoke as if he were underwater.
Of course he wanted to restart Teltin. In his head, he'd never left this place. Nothing else made sense to him.
"Are you crazy?!" Jack shouted in his face. "You were here! You lived it!"
"They knew something," he insisted. "There had to be a reason for all of it—"
He crumpled as Jack struck out with a blue-gloved fist.
"Jack," Shepard said, stepping forward, her arms raised.
"He's going to make it happen all over again!" Jack cried, her pistol trained on the back of Aresh's skull. "He needs to die."
"He can't do anything. Look at him! He was in the exact same place that you were. He's dealing with the same shit in his head that you are." Shepard took another step towards her. "You can pull that trigger and shut the door on this place forever, if you want. But there are other loose ends out there. Other survivors. Are you going to hunt them all down, too?"
Jack scrubbed at her face with her other hand. "I don't know! Maybe!"
"My point is that you don't have to, Jack. You're stronger than that."
Jack clenched her teeth, alternating her glare between Shepard and Aresh, who knelt limply on the floor. She shifted her grip on her pistol.
"You're strong enough," Shepard continued, "that you can just walk away from this place. Leave the doors wide open behind you. That's how you show them that your past doesn't control you. Give him the chance that was never given to you."
Jack looked back at her, then Aresh, then her gun. "—Fuck. I don't... Is this right?"
"If you need to feel safe, go ahead and shut the door," Shepard said, gesturing at the kneeling man between them. "It's your decision. I won't interfere."
Jack breathed in, and out. Lowered her pistol.
"Get out of here," she muttered.
Aresh, staring down at the floor, didn't react. She shoved him. "Run! Go!"
He went.
Jack let out a shaky sigh and walked over to her window. Outside, Aresh picked his way over dead bodies and broken equipment, back towards Teltin's surface.
Jack pressed her fist against the glass.
"...I'm still nuking this place."
"Your call," Shepard said, voice neutral.
Aresh glanced back over his shoulder at them, but all he saw in the window was his own reflection.
Garrus hung back by Shepard's side as they walked out.
She glared up at him, ready for the inevitable complaints about her tactics, her judgment calls, her behavior, her mental health, her personal hygiene. "...What."
"I was wondering if you heard any of that inspirational speech just now," he said. "It was pretty good."
Shepard blinked. "What? It was?"
"I thought so. The central metaphor was very... potent."
He was fucking with her. Shepard's eyes narrowed.
"You closed your door," he said firmly, pre-empting her from swearing at him. "But mine's still open."
She was still trying to decide whether or not to swear at him as he walked away.
Normandy
Jack shuffled wordlessly out of decontamination and headed for the elevator, ignoring Chambers's chirp of a greeting.
Shepard glanced up at Garrus. He glanced back. She opened her mouth, hesitated, closed it again. He turned on his heel and strode off after Jack.
She trudged upstairs to the cockpit instead. She needed some cheering up. "Hey."
"Hey, Commander." Joker spun around in his chair. "So, glad we figured out Jack's crazy! That was really up in the air, you know. Just hanging there."
Shepard sighed, suddenly not in the mood. "Lay off, Moreau. She's a good kid."
He gave her an incredulous stare. "Pretty sure she's neither of those things. You must be even crazier than her."
Shepard bared her teeth in a shark's grin. "Is that a fact."
"So, uh, mineral resources," Joker said quickly, spinning back around. "Hey, good to see you Commander, nice chat. EDI, where we at with our palladium?"
"We are exactly where we were last time you checked, Mister Moreau. That was fifty-two seconds ago."
Shepard rolled her eyes and left them to it. She had some nervous energy to burn off. Time for rounds.
She went back and flirted with Chambers— Kelly— for a few minutes. She was bright, bubbly, and ecstatic that Shepard was finally using her first name. Maybe with some time and judicious encouragement, Shepard could override the Cerberus kool-aid, and start to bring her around.
She wasn't above exploiting the yeoman's obvious crush on her.
Over to the Armory. Jacob gave her a crisp salute and a fist-bump. Hey, Shepard. Thanks for the help earlier. Feels good to put a lid on the past. Don't worry about me, not a baggage kind of guy— I'm all about the mission now. But hey, sorry, don't have a lot of time to talk. These guns aren't gonna repair themselves.
In the Tech Lab, Mordin frowned and squinted at something on his console. No, not the best time. Discovered mutated strain of Elcor virus. Could be effective bio-weapon against Collectors. Nasty. Fast-acting. Surprising, for Elcor. Began modifications for aerosol deployment, but sneezed at critical moment. Keeping virus in containment proving... problematic. Distraction unwise.
Deck 3. Miranda actually smiled at her. Shepard. I wanted to thank you. I couldn't have reached Oriana in time without your help. She has everything I ever wanted for her, now. A normal life, freedom... And— she has me. Thank you. I'm afraid I have to finish looking over these maintenance schedules, but I'd like to talk more. Another time?
Dr. Chakwas craned her head up to look at her. I'm doing very well, Commander, thank you, but I'm afraid I'm not up to indulging again just yet. Oh no? Well how thoughtful of you to check in. ...Are you feeling all right?
Port Observation. Goto tipped her an upside-down smile from where she lay sprawled over the couch. Shep! Would you like a gin gimlet? Don't ask where I got the limes. Okay I'll tell you. You know the designer Giuli Vorn? Lives in a sprawling villa in Nos Astra? He spent a fortune genetically modifying fruit trees from Earth to make his own private orchard on Illium. They're protected by about twelve terabytes of legal patents. Not to mention the electric fence, the retina scanner, the automated turrets, the squad of commandos, the varren... you get the picture. Anyway, help yourself to a drink! Have two! Don't worry about those seed trays. They're for later.
Shepard took the cocktails over to Life Support. Krios politely declined her offer: alcohol exacerbated his Kepral's. He slipped into a memory of a hit he'd carried out in a bar, deep in the Citadel wards. A rare turian pirate. Caius Egan made a career out of desecrating protected Prothean archaeological sites. Stealthing in and abducting irreplaceable artifacts.
Now he waits, drumming his talons against the counter. The buyer is late. An old scar traces from his left brow plate to his lip, shining silver and red in the neon glow. Bone separates from cartilage with a twist and a crack. His body slumps in a shadow between booths.
...Ah. My apologies, Siha. I seem compelled to share these things with you whether I wish it or not.
Starboard Observation. The Justicar cradled a sphere of energy between her palms. The asari warrior and her code were fascinating: uncompromising and ancient, as calm and cold as the void of space. But no, she would not care for a drink. If her judgment were incapacitated in any way, it could have lethal consequences. Thank you for your offer, however. Your kindness is appreciated.
Shepard moved on to Deck 4. Massani scoffed at the cocktail, but then grabbed it out of her hand anyway. Shit, any booze that doesn't dry-boil your insides is a luxury in deep space. I was trapped on a Batarian frigate for a week once, after a job went bad. Entire crew'd been killed, along with my backup. Stench was godawful. Couldn't airlock the bodies fast enough. Only thing keeping me company was a crate of Khar'shan ale. By the time anyone responded to the distress beacon I was so far goddamn gone, I was half dead myself. Hallucinated that the scouts were devils sent from hell to drag me down. So I stayed quiet, snuck around behind them and took off with their ship. Hell of a way to repay a good samaritan. Still wonder what happened to them sometimes. Good talk, Shepard. Thanks for the drink.
Port Cargo. Grunt snarled at her and threw an action figure at her head. Chambers had mentioned something was up with him. She'd deal with it later.
She headed down below Engineering to check on Jack, but the little biotic was already curled up and asleep on her cot.
Shepard tiptoed back upstairs, and checked the time on her omni-tool. Win-win: she'd managed to postpone writing up her field report on Pragia for a solid forty-five minutes, and she'd touched base with everyone on her team.
Except one. She downed the rest of her drink in a single gulp, and punched the elevator button.
The battery doors hissed open. Garrus was standing at his console.
She stepped over the threshold. "...Hey."
He didn't move. "You remembered where I live."
"Just checking in," she said tonelessly. "Do you need anything? Mods? New rifle?"
"I'm good," he said, voice flat. "You should be shopping for yourself."
Here we go. She folded her arms, leaned back against the wall, her chin raised at an angle somewhere in between firm and fuck-you. "Oh really. Got something to add to my list?"
He turned to face her, finally, mirroring her defiant pose. "A calculator app for your omni-tool. Since apparently you can't tell the difference between three and one."
She snorted. "If you'd been at my back when I needed you, instead of being an insubordinate waste of my time, it would have been three and two."
"I think you've made it pretty clear that you don't need me for anything." He stepped forward, looming over her. A deep rumbling sound began in his throat. "You're going to get yourself killed again no matter what I do."
"And I think you've made it pretty clear that you'd prefer me locked up in a Cerberus testing lab." Shepard flashed her teeth in a wide smile. "So I'd be dead either way."
His good mandible dropped open. "That's not—"
"It's fine." She patted his arm. "I'll just have to come back again to haunt you."
The rumbling sound rose suddenly, sharpened. It throbbed against her eardrums. He was growling at her. Holy hell.
"Damnit, Shepard," he bit out. "I don't know what's gone wrong with your head. Apparently Lawson doesn't either. But this isn't funny. I saw what happened on Illium."
Her stomach lurched. Illium. She'd splintered apart. Stumbled blindly through a haze of rage and paranoia. Walked headfirst into a gunship.
—No. He couldn't know about that. None of it had happened.
"I kicked ass on Illium," she said.
"You deliberately dosed yourself with a lethal chemical," he said. "You would have ODed if Lawson hadn't knocked you out of the dust. She showed me the footage."
That's all. Thank god. "Vakarian, listen to me." She stepped forward, tipped her head back to look him in the eye. "I knew exactly what I was doing. Sometimes seeing the mission through means taking calculated risks. You're a soldier. You should understand that."
"Don't feed me the party line, Shepard. You could have given yourself permanent brain damage. Blown out your biotics. I'm failing to see how that would help the mission."
"I could have, but I didn't, because I know what I'm doing! What the hell happened to make you this uptight?" She flicked her hand out in a sharp, angry gesture. "You and Lawson ought to hook up. I'm sure you'd be very happy together."
"Stop deflecting." He struck lightning-quick, grabbed her outstretched hand in his. "I thought you just needed time to figure yourself out. That eventually you'd tell me the truth about what's happened to you."
She glared up at him. "I died."
His good mandible flared out and down, exposing rows of needle-sharp teeth. "I know you did. I also know there's more to it than that. Something happened with you and the Praetorian."
"I tore the Praetorian into fucking pieces, that's what happened! As far as I'm concerned, I've done nothing but kick ass at my job and you've done nothing but piss and moan and go behind my back to Lawson. I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
He dropped her hand like it was a rotting corpse.
"I sure hope the Collectors are vulnerable to bullshit," he hissed. "Because otherwise, we haven't got a fucking prayer."
She just shook her head.
How had it come to this?
A week and a half ago she'd woken up on a sterile slab. And day by day, one by one, she'd completely lost the trust and respect of everyone who ever mattered to her.
She clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut. Fine. It was fine. She couldn't stop. She had a contingency plan. Taylor, Lawson, Chambers, Solus at bare minimum. Krios could be relied upon as well, if she was reading him right. The Justicar would obey her oath. Jack— well, who knew about Jack. But the little biotic owed her a favor, and that never hurt.
She could do this without him.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him. "I don't know what to say to you, Vakarian. If it's always going to be like this, if you're going to question my every move and motivation, you can feel free to clear out right now. I can't lead someone who won't follow."
He met her stare head-on, and didn't say anything at all.
...Fuck.
She exhaled and stepped back, rubbing her forehead. All right. So they were done. She'd already said as much to him anyway, last night, back in her quarters.
She'd said it herself and she'd said it first. So why was her throat so tight? She pressed her knuckles hard against her eyes. Her heart ached.
She could do this without him.
But she really, really didn't want to.
"You know, I would have expected this shit from Kaidan," she said into the darkness. "Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. Even back then."
She pressed her hands in harder, until bright splotches of color burned against the black. "...I never, ever thought that would be true of you."
She backed up until she bumped against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor.
"Shepard," he said.
Her hands dropped into her lap.
"Shepard," he said again, more quietly.
"Kaidan. Tali. Liara. And now you. I thought we were a team," she mumbled. "What happened?"
"We all went through hell together," he said, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. "...Then you died. And we each went through hell alone."
She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around herself. "Why didn't they want to come with me?"
"They're scared," he replied. "A lot happened last time. A lot is happening now. It's not easy to deal with."
She glanced up at him. A long-limbed, blue-black shadow against the battery walls. "You came. Why aren't you scared?"
He let out a soft puff of laughter. "I'm terrified."
She looked up at him for a long moment.
She didn't want it to end like this.
She had to tell him everything. Even if it was the last time they ever spoke. But Cerberus's omnipresent eyes and ears made that impossible.
"Come with me to the Citadel," she said, finally. "I wasn't kidding, I really do need to do some shopping. Let's make a day of it."
He tilted his head, considering. It was neutral ground. It was where they'd first met. Before Omega, it had been his home.
And if he decided to leave her, he could just... stay there.
"Sure," he said lightly. "Buy me dinner, and I might even dress up."
"Keep dreaming, Vakarian."
She reached out her hand.
He stepped forward, and pulled her up.
She gave him a small half-smile as she stepped out of the battery.
Later that night, when she was blearily looking over resource reports, projected consumption trends, personnel assessments, and news briefings from the various sources (reputable and otherwise) in the Terminus systems, her omni-tool pinged.
From: Saronis Applications
Subj: You have received a gift! Click the link to download your new software.
Shepard frowned and opened the message.
Omni-Calc2.3_for_Chameleon
Gift Message:
Maybe this will help.
-G