It had been a while since she had had any leave. She had moved straight from the Eighth Fleet to the Ninth and been on duty all the time, so it had been a while. She liked the routine, the ease of it. Knowing what each day would bring was comforting. Sure, it wasn't like there were no surprises, but they usually fit a pattern. Until last surprise, at least.
That was the main reason she wasn't enjoying her shore leave. Faces were missing. And Sheppy most of all. The Chief, too. At least he seemed to be doing all right, except for how strangely relaxed he appeared. Usually she knew how to get some reaction out of him. There was a line she shouldn't have crossed, but in her usual fashion, she'd flown over it at a fraction of c and slowly walked her way back to find it; yet now that she knew where it was, she brushed against it almost every chance she got. And it was so much fun, too. She knew she was getting away with more than most people - everyone but Sheppy at least - and she still crossed that line every now and then to test if the reaction was still there. It was. And it was delightful, too, in a way she didn't understand. But these days the Chief seemed rather... flat. Worried about Sheppy for one, but also that weird reaction of his implants. She had nearly lost her soul when he went down inside the Turian ship.
Despite it being a hard op, and despite the pain and the losses, she smiled. She still had dreams where something attacked and everything went blue, and she knew where it was coming from. That moment when she went down, and the Chief arrived to help them.
I'll go visit once I've checked on Sheppy. It's been a few days.
She made her way to the Clinic at her usual time, but today, for some reason, she had arrived a few minutes early. Thinking made her walk faster. More strange was the fact that there was nobody at reception. Or waiting. It was deserted.
"Heee-lloooo?" she called in a sing-song voice.
No answer. She looked at the time, made a mental shrug, and decided to walk up to Sheppy's room. They could meet upstairs. She ignored the lifts - those interminably slow abominations they were - and made for the stairs at the back instead, her steps soft thanks to her incredibly comfortable but highly inappropriate Mukluk slippers. Regulation, not regulation, screw it. She was on leave, and her toes were always cold after just a few days in Arcturus. Those things were both warm and ridiculously cute.
"Whew, look at this. It's a miracle she's alive."
Goldie stopped as soon as she heard the voice. If her ears weren't failing her, it was coming straight out of Sheppy's room.
"Alive might be a generous assessment," the voice continued, while Goldie listened carefully. "I should just save the taxpayer a lot of credits and put her out of her misery."
Her eyes opened wide like saucers, doubly so when she heard the sound of a gun being unfolded. Powering up. With practiced ease, almost unconsciously, her body fell in the relaxed-but-ready stance of combat. No shields. Check. No guns. Check. She didn't reflect any longer in her circumstances than that, didn't lament the fact that she had been caught flat-footed. Omni-blade.
She readied her omni-tool, typing a very fast message, but not activating the micro-fabricator just yet. She had the omni-blade only because the Chief used one to save her ass, and she had decided to emulate him. She had never used it in combat.
I guess that's about to change.
With muffled, silent steps she made to the door at a crouch, and ventured a peek through the corner. A man was standing at the feet of Sheppy's bed. Gun in hand. He wasn't much taller than her. Broad shouldered, tan skin, full head of black hair, she couldn't see much more from her angle. No uniform she could see, just civilian clothing. He was pointing a gun at the canopy where Sheppy was recovering.
Recovering might be... No, of course she is. She's Sheppy.
"Hold that thought Santos."
That had come through his omni-tool. She had a name now, at least. It powered down, and as it did, the man lowered his gun, muttering something to himself. It was now or never. She made sure she grabbed onto the door frame as she propelled herself forward, as her shoes weren't exactly hard gripping. Unfortunately it must have been enough noise for the man, because he turned around in a flash, raising his gun.
She was too close. With an upwards swipe the omni-blade materialized from her wrist, aimed straight at the weapon arm. But once again, Santos proved to have excellent reflexes. All she managed was to nick him, a shallow cut that provoked a sharp yell and a clatter as the gun dropped. She had planned to follow-up with a knee to the groin, but he twisted around to redirect her momentum, and ended up with a much less impressive kick to his hip. And being flung straight towards the wall even faster than she had been running.
Like him, she yelped in pain when she hit the wall. Her omni-blade hissed as it sliced along the metallic floor. She rolled and recovered quickly, heading straight for him without even thinking. It was the exact same situation. He had picked up his gun, she had to get to him before he could shoot. She ducked as she ran and a shot flew high. She felt the air move as the round passed mere inches from her face. She was under his guard again, and caught him by surprise when after a feint, she sliced backwards as she stood, cutting deep this time through his forearm. They were both yelling, in pain, in anger. The pistol clattered away, and a strong hand grabbed his omni-bladed wrist and twisted around, throwing her straight onto the ground.
It was a full body slam on the ground, but not something she hadn't trained for. She was faster than him, having all the leverage she could need with her back to the floor, and wrapped her legs around his neck, pressing hard. It was an awkward position for both. He still had her arm held firm, and was trying to punch with his other, wounded arm. Not hard enough. The cut was deep, and he had no strength on it left. For what seemed an eternity they both struggled, strength against strength. Her legs burned, and so did her chest. Her whole body was exerting pressure, and shallow breaths was all she could afford.
Santos' face was turning red. He tried to twist. She pressed with everything she could. But her long pants still could give some, and that was enough for the man to twist his body around, get some room for his legs. She saw it coming and all she could do was brace for it. Santos managed to get a leg in, and although he couldn't get any distance for momentum, he put all his weight down and buried his heel into her solar plexus. He dug harder and harder, rotating his boot left and right as they both pressed, each trying not to pass out before the other. She couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable.
Something cracked in her chest. She gave a yelp, and with it lost what little air she still had in her lungs. The room started to spin, and her strength was fading fast.
Blue glow.
Santos was gone.
She heard a crash after she felt something yanked away from her legs, but all her attention had turned to the feeling of sudden relief when the pressure on her chest disappeared. She took grateful, fast, deep, urgent breaths while looking around wildly. Santos was on the opposite side of the room, crumpled on the ground and unmoving. There was a large splatter of red blood on the wall, slowly dripping down along it. She tried to stand up, but the world spun around her.
"Goldie, are you okay?"
That voice, she knew it. She had sent him a message, but hadn't expected him to get there so fast. He must have already been on his way.
"Lenky?"
Alenko rushed to her side, his face flushed and with a surprised expression. "What the hell is happening?" he said.
Goldie giggled. She hadn't heard Alenko curse since Sheppy jumped out of that building.
"He was going to kill Sheppy. I had to do something."
"Hold on," Alenko said. He raised his omni-tool and started scanning her. "You've got a broken rib."
"That's what went pop," Goldie said. Her head was starting to feel better.
"I've got medi-gel, hold on."
He opened her jacket and without much ado, slathered some medi-gel on her skin. She knew what was coming next, and it was never nice. Alenko stabbed through her skin, deep towards the fracture. For a moment the world spun around, but as soon as the medi-gel kicked in, it started to subside.
"Who was that?" Alenko said, pointing at the wall.
Oh, at the dead man.
"Dunno, his omni-tool called him Santos. He was pointing a gun at Sheppy, said he was going to save us some money."
That didn't make much sense, at least if Alenko's face was any indication. Come to think of it, it probably didn't make any sense, but that's what he had said when he was pointing the gun.
"I'll go check his omni-tool. Give the medi-gel a minute."
"Okay," Goldie said. "Should we call someone?"
"Probably."
She brought up her omni-tool and opened the comms. Huh. Odd, no channels available. She tried a scan, but got the same result.
"I think my omni is broken," she said. "I'm not getting any channels."
A moment later, her worries about the channels disappeared when she heard the sound of mass accelerated rounds coming from outside. She looked up, locked eyes with Alenko, and immediately the two marines sprang to action. Medi-gel setting would have to wait. Alenko's body became encased in a biotic shield, while Goldie had to make do with picking up the discarded pistol and getting behind the biotic Sentinel.
They both looked around the corner of the door frame, and saw several figures jogging towards them. At least five. Armed and armored. One of them pointed towards them, and they quickly ducked into cover.
"That's not good."
"Shit," Alenko said. That was two in the same day!
"I'm not giving them Sheppy."
"Neither am I," Alenko replied without hesitation. "They're jamming us, but someone's bound to notice."
"Pull?"
"Pull."
A moment later they both came out of cover, Goldie hiding behind the shielded Alenko, and the biotic reached forward with his arm, while automatic fire pinged on his shields. One of the armored men started floating, and with a yank, Alenko pulled him towards them, while Goldie unloaded her pistol on him. She never made it past the kinetic barriers before they had to duck in for cover, but his spectacular crash landing had had to hurt. An assault rifle clattered as it bounced all the way to their door, and with a second pull, Alenko had managed to get it in the room.
Goldie caught it like a goalie, the rifle making a solid contact with her chest, sending her, and her head, spinning.
"Wait!" a voice yelled from the corridor. "Walk away now and you'll keep your lives."
Like hell.
"You're the one who needs to walk away, pal!" Alenko retorted.
"Yeah, you're not hurting Sheppy!"
There was a pause and, she thought, some sort of discussion. The distant firing had resumed, this time more intense.
"We're here to secure the girl," the man called. "Hurt her and you're dead."
"Bullshit!" Alenko yelled. "We've already killed the guy you sent before. You're not getting past us!"
She liked this version of Alenko. He was always so... reserved, really, it was hard to make much of him. Even during ops. But this was different. What could-
Oh my. I think the Chief has some competition.
She let the lightbulb drop for now, she'd have time to dig later. Much later.
In the meantime, there had been another conversation going in the distance, this time louder. Finally, the same voice called.
"I'm coming up, unarmed!" he called. "Don't shoot!"
"What?" Alenko said in a low voice, turning to look at Goldie.
She merely shrugged. She peeled off to the side, and raised her assault rifle, while Alenko took a step back, pistol in hand. Two angles. After a couple of seconds, a pair of hands appeared over the edge of the door frame, and they were followed by an armored man walking slowly, hands held high. He was wearing a strange, completely closed helmet with a red visor.
"I have orders to extract Aliana Shepard," he said.
"Not going to happen," Goldie said.
The man brought up his omni-tool, which immediately put the two marines on the alert, but then proceeded very slowly and cautiously, opening menus on the tool until he found a document of some sort.
"See for yourself."
Alenko glanced at Goldie, she looked back, and they both moved at the same time. She kept her gun trained on the man, moving behind him and raising it until it was touching the back of his helmet. He didn't seem to flinch. Alenko instead made for the omni-tool, and started reading.
"Lenky?" Goldie called.
"No way," he said.
"Yes," the man said. "Clearly she's in danger. All I know is that I have my orders, an escape plan, and a safe place for her. And I don't want to disappoint my employer. So," he powered the tool off and lowered his hands, apparently unconcerned about the guns pointed at him. "What's it going to be?"
There was a pause.
"So he's not with you?" Alenko said, pointing at the dead man.
"No. Don't know him, don't care," he said, his voice flat. "Window's closing fast, Lenky."
"If you're taking her," Goldie said, "you're taking me."
"Us," Alenko added.
The man looked back at her over his shoulder, looked at Alenko again, and shrugged. "Your choice," he added.
Working for the Volus Banking Consortium was not without its perks. The volus were very protective about all their dealings, which meant his assignments were rarely messy. At least overtly. This one, however, seemed to have grown rather spectacularly in just a few days, and rather unexpectedly too. Talen scratched his fringe, an absent gesture he knew was one of his tells, but rarely cared to rein in these days.
"I knew this was a lot bigger than I thought at first when the Spectre showed up," he was saying, the rumble of his turian voice still present in the VI translation. "But if this is true..."
"Your report *kssh* indicates you have no evidence for this *kssh* assessment," the volus replied over the comms.
"It's more of a gut feeling," Talen said. "I trust my guy. He says they've caught similar anomalies in other nodes, but nothing as secure as the surveillance systems."
"He has never observed this *kssh* in... flagrante?"
"That just means in the act. Old Terran language. No, they've never caught what causes them, but he suspects it is Geth processes. Which really was about the only thing missing in this whole mess, so I can almost believe it."
He stopped talking and gave the volus time to stew. Right now his main problem had probably shifted from wanting to find a missing client for the sake of his business, to figuring out what kind of mess he had gotten into when he started managing that human's fortune. Or at least he suspected. Volus liked their alien clients alive and well, money tended to disappear out of the system when unexpected deaths happened and governments started to look into inheritances.
Of course, if there was nobody to claim the inheritance that was another story. In this case the human had, surprisingly, made numerous arrangements for his money in case of an untimely death.
"This is troubling, Talen," the volus said. "Without him, account reconciliation could be *kssh* expensive."
"What would be the problem?" Talen said. He had the sinking feeling that he was about to be gifted a bone mallet. To the teeth.
"His share options for *kssh* Ala'ksha Exploration Corporation."
"S'kak," the turian swore. That was high level Asari trouble.
"If impossible to find, we would require *kssh* an authenticated order to execute those options."
Or a close enough facsimile.
"I'll start digging. Between the people who're profiting from Ala'ksha, and the people it's going to put out of business, it should narrow it down to, I don't know, half the freaking galaxy."
"Good," the volus replied, missing the biting sarcasm or intentionally ignoring it. "We look forward to your progress."
The FTL channel closed, and Talen was left alone in his small Citadel office. S'kak and more s'kak. It was a disaster. It wasn't public knowledge - and would likely never be - but the head archeologist of the Corporation had been shot and, rumor had it, killed during an assault to the Mars beacon facilities. It was a price worth almost any risk, so he wasn't surprised someone had tried. The surprising thing was that they had succeeded.
He wonder idly if this Morgan guy had had anything to do with it. It didn't really fit. He had been digging through financials to find if any large movements had happened on the Illium Stock Exchange before the attack, and unsurprisingly, there had been a few large short positions taken against Ala'ksha. But it didn't really fit. Even with leverage, the profit from those shorts wouldn't be worth killing his own long positions. Moreover, the correspondence between him and the volus seemed to be rather... nonchalant. He didn't care what the volus did with the money as long as he had some available whenever he needed it. And other than a few large transactions he traced to the purchase of gene mods, he had done absolutely nothing with his fortune.
The human was more of a puzzle than anything else.
Regardless, he might have collaborated without having wanted to. Perhaps he would follow-up on the attack to the Mars facility. The trail wasn't cold, but he knew the Systems Alliance were busy shoveling snow all over it.
It was their third day in the hospital, and Liara's life was still a gust away from being extinguished. Benezia stood impassibly at the window, looking at Shiala and her daughter. Her young commando was holding Liara's hand, and had her eyes closed. She had been melding for two hours now, and would probably spend another six to eight in the exact same place and position. There was nothing to see, there was nothing she could do to help, but she stood rooted in place. Watching. Waiting.
So far all Shiala had given her was a name and a face. Eva Coré. She hadn't shared anything other than that. She wouldn't share anything other than that.
She didn't press the issue.
Nonetheless, she had something. Someone. To focus her anger on. Aethyta had sent her people to find this Eva Coré, but the matriarch herself was still in the hospital. They were both, wisely, avoiding each other. Liara didn't need their conflict.
"Matriarch, I have important messages."
Fieney. Dutiful as always. Not this time.
"It can wait," Benezia replied.
"With all due respect, matriarch. I believe these require immediate attention. You're needed-"
"Right here," Benezia interrupted.
She didn't explain, she didn't offer any other words. Fieney wouldn't press, she knew better. She knew that tone of voice. She was probably right about the urgency of whatever messages she wanted to show her, but Benezia had spent the last five hundred years doing nothing but her duty towards her family. Now her daughter was in the twilight between life and death. They would have to wait.
Not ten minutes later she felt another presence coming to stand besides her. She didn't even need to turn to see who it was. She felt her even before she had turned the corner.
"Beni," Aethyta said.
"Not now," she replied.
A flare of biotics. Suppressed quickly. Surprising, that. Not the usual Aethyta.
"You need to go take care of the fallout," Aethyta said. Her voice was tight, the words leaving her mouth like they were fleeing a prison. "The sharks have come circling."
"Your mess," Benezia said.
Again, another flare. Stronger, but extinguished just as fast.
"It is," Aethyta admitted. Benezia turned to look at the asari, and saw her face set in barely contained rage. "I'm staying here. Nobody's touching my girl again." She looked at Benezia. "But she's gonna lose it all. She needs you."
"I'm right where I have to be,"
"Athame's-!" She stopped. Looked away, then turned to Benezia again. "I am here. This, I can do. You need to go out there, cut the sharks' tails, slice their fins, then serve them for breakfast. That's what you do Beni. That's what you're so good at. Because I screwed up. And our girl shouldn't pay the price for that."
The rage was there. Krogan bloodrage it wasn't, but it was as close as she had ever seen an asari to it. Aethyta was absolutely furious, and struggling with every fiber of her being not to explode right there and then. Benezia waited for a moment, then raised her hand, put it on the back of Aethyta's neck. The asari trembled under her touch, a ticking bomb waiting to explode. Then, Benezia's eyes went dark, and they touched each other's mind.
She drank the rage radiating from Aethyta. Pure, unadulterated raw emotion. Almost too much for a single mind to carry. Benezia's own pain was deeper, colder. It focused inwards. They balanced each other.
Lend me some of your anger. I will carry it with me. It will serve us well.
Aethyta was surprised by her thought. Benezia wasn't going out there to play politics. She was going out there to draw a line, and dare anyone in the galaxy to cross it. She gave freely, and Benezia drank the rage with a thirst worthy of a krogan. The meld was barely a meld. A second, maybe two. When Benezia broke the contact her heart was pounding hard in her chest. There was an urgent hunger for action in her. To see someone pay. To push the invaders away. Those who were coming to hurt her family. Her clan.
Aethyta's vision of her family was touched by her krogan parentage. Neither family, nor clan, adequately described the complex structure of an asari meli'lana. But what those words lacked in nuance, they made up in strength. Clan was a very powerful word in the mouth of a krogan.
"Fieney," she called, turning around and walking off. The assistant quickly came to her, falling into step behind.
Aethyta stayed, eyes glued to the two asari behind the window. For now, the bomb had been defused. But the explosive charge was still there.
*CRACK*
The punch whipped my head to the side, making the room spin around like it was one of those infernal contraptions at the local fair. I gave myself a moment to get my bearings back, and looked up. I recognized the face. I'd never forget that face. My arms flexed involuntarily, and my addled brain caught the sensations again. Hands wouldn't move. Something keeping them. Back. Something against my back.
Safe. Keep your back to the door. It's safe. They can't get in. Don't let them hear you. Safe.
"Fucking damn," distant voice. Male. I felt anger at it, recognized it. Anger. "Why isn't it working?"
"It doesn't always work," another voice. Male. Unrecognizable. Nobody.
"He should at least be talking, even if it's nonsense!" Anger said.
Silence. Noise. Clop, clop, clop. Another person. I could feel my back still against it. Still safe.
Just wait it out, they will stop. They always do. You've done this a thousand times. Back to the door, they can't come in. This is your room. Be quiet and wait.
"Well?" Female. Soft. Chill went down my spine. I felt the reassuring contact against my back again. I was still safe.
"Not getting much of anything," Anger said. Another punch. This time I didn't even open my eyes. "We could try a higher dose."
"An overdose isn't going to help," Chill replied.
I felt a soft hand on my face, and a thumb pulled my non-swollen eyelid up. I made eye contact with the Chill. That wasn't Chill. I knew that face.
"Look who's here," I muttered. "The Queen Beeeeeee... itch."
Shut up. Push the door with your back. Wait. I didn't understand the pain, my hands, my wrists, my arms, my feet, it was strange. Why pain. Pain when I pressed. I kept pressing, pain didn't matter. Keep that door shut. You're safe.
A few light slaps. Queen Bee. I opened my eyes slightly at that touch. She was holding something.
"All right, look at this and tell me what you see."
It was a datapad. Numbers. Lots of numbers. I have no idea what it is.
"I dunno. Numbers. Lots of numbers. I'm good with numbers, but not now. I was good with numbers. Before..."
Silence. Back to the door. Don't let anyone in.
"Before?" Queen Bee said. I didn't answer. She looked at the datapad and started reading. "Larran Goh. Armax Arsenal. Nestle. Warney Corporation. Redfox Logistics. Ala'ksha Exploration Corporation." She waited. "Well?"
"Whaaaaa?" I replied, looking at Queen Bee. Names. I didn't know any of those names. Wait. Nestle. "I like Nesquick," I said. "Don't like milk. Tastes bad, but Nesquik is good. Haven't had any yet. I like it."
*CRACK*
I saw the punch coming. Didn't have time to do anything about it. My body tensed. The door still there? I pressed against the door on my back. It was still there. Still safe. Keep pressing, they'll go away. Can't hurt you in here.
"Enough," Queen Bee. "We've been at this for two weeks now. It's not working." Clop, clop, clop. She was gone.
Maybe they were all gone. No point looking. They've done it before. Pretend they were gone so I would open the door. Keep the door closed.
Clop, clop, clop. I heard the steps. Queen Bee was back. Someone else. Other steps.
"Go ahead," Queen Bee said.
I felt a hand on my head, and then something pushing against the door.
Fucking Red Sand.
That was a foreign thought. I recognized this. Melding. I had done it before.
Whoop dee doo, you've fucked a blue whore before. Congratulations. Now let me see!
I slammed the door and braced against it. I couldn't think, all I could do was close that door. Keep it closed. Something slammed against it, but I didn't budge. It was impossible to move that door. I knew it. Push hard, keep pushing.
"This would have been a lot easier if you hadn't drugged him," I heard the thought as well as the voice.
"We're paying you quite well," that was Queen Bee.
What a bitch.
There was some amusement coming from the intruder. I felt her thoughts. The meld. Deeper. My head cleared up as we dove. And my thoughts started to get more orderly. I had been drugged. And beaten. I was sitting on a chair. My hands and arms were tied behind the back rest of the chair. My legs and ankles were tied to the legs. I wasn't feeling the door. I felt the backrest of the chair. No wonder my hands and feet hurt. With all the pressure, I had probably cut through the skin already.
Show me everything!
The thoughts slammed against the door again. Wait. There was someone else out there. I remember now. Shepard was out there guarding the door. I felt the push from the intruder, and the counter from Shepard. Like a mental slap. Not strong like a biotic, but stopping the intruder dead on her tracks.
"What the fuck..." That was out loud.
She put both hands on my face, and sat on my lap, straddling me as if trying to physically push me down. Go deeper.
Show me!
I had been there before. There was something else I could show her. I knew she'd like it even. I braced mentally, and let Shepard get out of the way. Then we dove into my memories.
Thessia. The sky lousy with Reapers. Beams of death and destruction falling all over the cities. Explosions. Death. I felt the intruder recoil in horror. I amplified it, gave her the horror Shiala had felt. And before she could recover, before she could probe any deeper, I slammed the door to her face.
Fuck the Goddess... What was...
Let's have a chat, shall we?
She didn't go for the opening. I could have closed it before she did anything - or so I hoped - but she was in too much shock to try. I knew how much of a shock those images were, they had been crystallized more and more in my memory after sharing it with other asari.
What the fuck was that.
That is what Cerberus has in store for everyone, if they get into my head.
The meld was deep now, there was no way she couldn't feel how sincere that statement was. She mentally shook herself and pushed.
I don't care. They're paying me to dig in, so I'm digging in.
I can show you more.
The derelict reaper. The team losing their minds, as we watched in horror through the monitors. The Banshee. Panic. Pure panic at that point. I slammed the door once more.
What the fuck is all this!
She was rattled to the core, I could feel it. It had been a risk, but the truth is, I knew that I had nowhere to go and nothing to stop them. I didn't know how much longer I could stall. It was a small miracle that I had managed not to say anything important until now.
That is what they're after. Oh, they don't know it's what they're after. They don't know what's in here. But the big boss, over Queen Bitch, yeah, he's after this. Give him the keys, and the whole Galaxy is fucked.
Bullshit! You're trying to-
You've seen it!
She retreated at my mental yell, afraid of seeing the memories I had shared. I kept a lid on them, though. They had done their job. And I didn't want her to see anything else.
You're hiding something! You're trying to trick me!
There was no conviction behind those words, and we both knew it. She had gotten a whole lot more than she had bargained for. I could feel the turmoil on her end. Scattered thoughts made unintelligible by fear. I knew I had to press. If she got her thoughts back in order, she might very well go back at it without caring about those images. Or even dig deeper to find out how real they were, and where they came from.
What is an asari doing working for Cerberus? Do you even know who they are?
I know who they are, and I can take care of myself.
Confidence, borne out of experience. No memories to share, but there was no need. Something like that couldn't be faked. Shit, that could give her her balance back. Press now.
So what's it going to be then? Are you going to keep pushing and give them what they want?
Why should I give a fuck what happens to Thessia? Bunch of stuck up assholes. I get my cut and live my life, I haven't set foot in that shithole in two hundred years.
Because it's not just Thessia.
Is that so? Show me then.
Defiant. Grounded. That was the real person at the bottom of all the layers. She lived her life, and to hell with everyone else. Not a shallow selfishness. There was hardship behind that. She pulled the threads of her past away and slammed at my door instead.
Show me!
The meld had been going on for well over an hour. Miranda had expected it to be over a while ago, but it looked like the asari was having some trouble. She had insisted on being alone with Morgan, and she knew for a fact that she wasn't so deep in that she wasn't aware of what was going on around her. And of course she was well armed.
Miranda had stayed in the room. Not that she was worried, she could handle a single asari if need be.
"Raaaargh!"
The asari let go of Roy and shot to her feet, yelling in a very clear venting of frustration. Without another word, she was covered in biotic energies, and slapped Morgan across the face, hard enough for him to tilt to the side and fall. The thump of his body hitting the ground didn't seem to bother the asari.
"Son of a krogan!" she snapped.
"What is the matter?" Miranda said, her tone even.
"This... this... thing!" she replied, gesturing at Morgan. "It's useless!"
"Useless?"
"He's just a puppet!" Without any preamble, the asari gave Morgan a hearty kick to the stomach. "You have any idea how much money you just cost me?!"
Miranda was good at reading people. Not that it was impossible to fool her, nobody was foolproof when it came to catching lies, but the anger the asari was displaying looked very real. She was breathing hard, too, and the flush on her face looked like she'd have been sweating hard if she had been human.
"So, what happened?" Miranda inquired once more.
The asari turned to face her, and took a deep, calming breath before speaking. "This thing is a fake. He's got a fake personality in there, but underneath his mind is blank."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. All that effort for nothing!" the asari huffed. "It's very good work. Can't be more than a dozen people who'd be able to pull this off."
Miranda raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't get anything?"
"Not a Goddess' shit," the asari said. "He's got instructions in there but that's it. Want to hear them?"
"No, that won't be necessary. A dozen people you said?"
"Yeah. I'll make you a list," she said, her voice resigned. "I still expect expenses to be paid, too!" she added with a venomous glare to Morgan.
On the ground, the man started to look quite agitated. "Did you overload his mind?"
"Maybe," the asari replied, and shrugged. "Got to go deep for this."
"Lubawlsky!" Miranda called, the man immediately rushing inside the room. "Take Morgan to the medbay and fix him up will you?"
"Sure thing boss."
Without further ado, she turned around and headed out, trailed by the asari. She gave her a list of names, all asari matriarchs, who she claimed were the best at wiping minds as far as she knew. With that, and a much smaller payment than promised, she got on her ship and took off. Miranda headed for her office and sat down, watching the ship's progress on the system map. She was barely out of the gravity well before she tried to open comm channels, as she had expected. Naturally, the attempts stopped fast once she realized just how much jamming there was around her.
It took maybe an hour for her to reach the relay, and there had been three more attempts at sending messages. Miranda sipped her coffee and watched, satisfied with her abundance of caution. She watched the little dot approach the location of the relay, the flash of activation...
On the other end, she saw the shower of debris leaving the primary relay at relativistic speeds. So curious how despite all efforts, relay transition accidents were still so common. A shame really. She downloaded the detailed scan from the hidden satellites and nodded, satisfied. All the fragments were moving at good speed away from the relay, there would be no need to send a crew to clean it up.
She finished her coffee and made for the medbay. There was always the possibility that the asari - whose name, she realized, she had never bothered learning - had been telling the truth. The more likely scenario was that she had been lying. And if Morgan had managed to turn a selfish, detached asari mercenary with absolutely no love for the Republics to his side, whatever information was hidden in that uncrackable melon of his had to be extremely important.
On her way to the medbay, she changed her mind and headed to her office. He'd need to take a few days to recover before they could put the screws on him again, so it was probably better for her to take the prothean VI back to base. The Illusive man was extremely interested in it, which was no surprise.
She'd leave the puzzle of Morgan be, for the time being.
There's few sounds that I can identify even in my sleep, and the sound of automatic gunfire is one of them. I opened my eyes as best I could and ambled towards the kinetic barrier trapping me in my cell. I couldn't see a thing. Outside, I could hear yells and the sounds of guns. Strange. I limped back to my cot and sat down. I didn't have anything on me. No guns, no melee weapons, not even a splinter of something I could use to improvise. And while my head had started to come back to it's "default" state, and I was no longer deadpan calm and relaxed, my reflexes were still quite shot.
And ye gods but I hurt everywhere. I had no idea how long it had been since that asari had melded with me. I wasn't sure she had even managed to get out of the base, given what I knew about Cerberus. Miranda probably shot her in the back as soon as she had a chance.
My only hope had been that eventually they'd go too far, and they'd irreversibly break something important. That was about the only way I could see me not giving them anything useful. I didn't know how much more I was going to be able to take.
An explosion rocked the ground under my feet. Loud. Very loud. A cloud of dust passed through the corridor in front of my cell. Then, about half a dozen armed and armored people. Armed to the teeth. One of them knelt besides the door, and a moment later the kinetic barrier disappeared. Three people rushed in.
I didn't even move.
"Roy Morgan?" one of them said, his voice muffled through his helmet.
It looked strange. The faceplate was solid, with only a red visor over the eyes. The others had a slightly different design, two round visors in place of eyes. It was significant, I thought, but I couldn't place it. I was so tired.
"The one and only," I said, already preparing my mental retreat. Again.
"We're here to get you out."
As he spoke, the other two started working. One of them ran a scan over me with his omni-tool. The other one was putting something on me. Looked like a thin vest.
Shield harness.
My thoughts took off at a tangent when I felt a prick on my neck, and a moment later my heart nearly jumped out of my throat. I jumped to my feet, but the room started spinning, and almost immediately I was hit with a massive, splitting headache. I yelled in pain, grabbing my head with both hands, and would have fallen flat if they hadn't grabbed me.
"What the- what did you do?!" one of the three said. I couldn't tell anymore.
"It was a stim!"
Shit. Stim. Not good.
"Fucking... implants..." I muttered through gritted teeth. Ye gods my head was going to explode, I could feel it coming.
"Implants, wait, I saw those."
There was a flash of light, moving up and down. I half-grunted and half-yelled as I pressed harder and harder on my head, while these three tried to keep me on my feet.
Then, the world stopped. For a minimal fraction of a second. And after that, everything sped up and happened almost at once.
"Gah!" I said, pushing them back and falling on my butt on the cot.
"Morgan! You all right? I just turned the implants on!"
"Fucking hell my head..." I muttered, blinking rapidly. The headache was there, but was subsiding slowly. "Who the hell are you guys?"
"No time," the first man said, and pulled me up to my feet. "We got to go. Can you run?"
"I can try," I said. I put my hand up. "Gun."
They exchanged looks, but complied. One of them reached behind his back and brought up a small pistol. Probably a holdout backup. Still, those things could have a decent punch, just not a lot of ammo. I checked it quickly, tried to sync it with my omni-tool, and realized that it wasn't going to work since I didn't have it. I didn't worry about that detail. By now, the data had probably been erased and replaced by encrypted rubbish noise. One of the security upgrades I had added long ago. I disengaged the safety on the pistol and looked at them.
"Lead on."
They pushed me into the middle of the group and we legged it through the corridor at a good clip. I could hear more shooting out there, literally all over the base. Two people were grabbing me by the shoulders at all time, pushing me down every time we engaged, rushing me as we ran, and making sure my still unsteady legs didn't fail under me. We came upon a junction that I could see would lead to a hangar, and as we did, automated turrets popped out of the ceiling and turned to us.
"Get to cover!"
In the blink of an eye the door to my left had opened, and I was pushed inside while the group engaged with the automated defenses and, by the sounds of it, reinforcements. As soon as I stepped in I heard an out of place rustle behind me, and my implants kicked in.
Hello old friends.
Turning around, aiming, and shooting was all one fluid motion. And just as I remembered, implants made the following moments happen almost as if they were automated, except that I was not simply a passenger, but was along for the ride to nudge the results. It was the only thing that saved Marie from having her head blown off, as I managed to pull and make the shot fly just above her hair.
"Kyaa!" she yelled.
"Jesus!" I yelled. In an instant, two of the armored men rushed inside, guns at the ready. "Stop! Don't!"
Marie was sitting on the ground, in the corner, half hidden behind a fallen dresser. She was looking at us with real fear in her eyes, and I could tell that it took her a moment to recognize me.
"R-Roy? What did they do t-"
She didn't manage to say another word. There was a loud THUNK sound next to me, and next thing I knew Marie is spazzing out with a dart sticking out of her chest.
"What the hell!" I snapped.
"It's non-lethal!" the armored man said.
The two of them grabbed me and pulled me away, rushing towards the hangar. Another group had taken positions along our path, and were laying covering fire as we ran. My addled brain had had no time to stop and think about what was happening, but even in that state I could recognize that whoever these people were, they were damn well trained professionals. We rushed into a modified Mantis gunship, and even before the doors had closed the thing was already airborne and speeding away.
"What about the others?" I yelled. Leave no man behind.
"They've got their own arrangements!" the response came. "Now strap in, we might get a few bumps!"
In truth, the AA batteries barely offered a sliver of resistance before we were out of range, and in only a few minutes we had made our way into the cargo hold of a waiting spaceship, the make of which I couldn't even identify.
As soon as we landed, the man with the wide single visor - who I had surmised was in charge - started issuing orders.
"Seven, take him to the medbay," he said, pointing at me. "I want a report sent as soon as we've cleared the jamming, including medical. Fine good job, people."
As I was taken towards the medbay I finally took a minute for my head to find its legs - if that's even a thing - and when I was dropped on the lone bed inside the tiny room, I looked at the armored man and asked him a single question.
"How did the Broker find me?" I said.
To his credit, he didn't even blink at that. Or, well, he might have, I couldn't see his face. But he didn't hesitate.
"How does he ever find out anything, my friend?" he said, laughing. He gave me a couple of taps on the shoulder and made hay, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
It took three days until we landed somewhere. No idea where. In those three days I was confined to the medbay, and the only person I ever saw that wasn't in full mask was the doctor. A batarian, of all things. He did a good job, however, and his bedside manner wasn't particularly... batarian. In fact, there was little bedside manner; he barely spoke, and only in relation to my injuries. While Cerberus had, apparently, not done anything permanent to maim me, I had bruises, contusions, and even partial fractures of my bones all over my body. It took a full two days before the swelling on my face subsided, and I knew it'd be even longer before the bruises faded. The implants had not given me much trouble, but I had to re-train my body not to trigger at the drop of a hat, and moreover, I now knew the danger of overusing them if I tried. I felt like fried shit, but I was alive, and moderately free.
I say moderately free because the Broker had me now. I assumed it was a good thing, mostly due to the Broker being Tela Vasir and working with the Council, but you never know.
On the third day of my travels the ship - a small Tyr class corvette that had been modified for larger crews - landed inside a hangar and I was shown to the Broker's office. A small room with a terminal and a pair of chairs.
When I sat down, the terminal came to life, and I was greeted with the featureless humanoid projection I knew the Broker used, together with the synthesized voice.
"Greetings Mr. Morgan."
"Seriously? We're going to do this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come on Tela, get out here and talk to me. I'm not in the mood for this shit."
"Ah, you're referring to my predecessor. I'm afraid Tela Vasir is no more."
"Yeah, and I'm the Pope of Rome. Is Glyph still calling everyone the Broker?"
There was a pause, the terminal switched off, and after a few seconds, the back door opened and in came Tela Vasir. She was smiling, and even chuckled a bit when she got to me.
"Glyph is no longer calling anyone other than me the Broker," she said, and sat down gracefully on the chair opposite of me.
"Right." I gestured at the terminal. "Really?"
"What can I say, I'm easily amused. Entertainment options are slim for someone in my position," she said. "I do question how you didn't show any hesitation when claiming that the Broker was still in my hands."
There was an edge to that question, but I didn't have the energy or the patience to think about it, so I shot straight from the hip.
"Knowing you, fat chance of anyone else getting your chair," I said. I looked around. "Where the hell are we? This isn't Hagalaz, is it?"
"That... facility was compromised. The Council knew its location, so it was no longer suitable. Luckily, there were redundancies in place. It took a bit of doing, but I'm finally free of political entanglements."
I paused at that, looking at her smug, self-satisfied face. "You're... what?"
"The Broker functions at its best when it works as a free agent. And so do I. It is, as you'd say, a match made in heaven. It gives me the flexibility I need to do what needs to be done."
What needs to be done.
Call me paranoid, but she was starting to sound a bit like the Tela Vasir of the old simulation. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, I remember her being less than... well, not someone who I'd trust with a gun and my back turned to her, that's for sure.
"What exactly have you been doing?" I said cautiously.
She smiled, stood up, and gestured towards the door. "Will you join me for a drink? I imagine you could use one after your ordeal."
To be honest, maybe I could have used a drink, but the setting was the exact opposite of the right one to feel relaxed about it. The back door led to a narrow corridor, and Tela led me to a small room not too far from where we had met that strongly reminded me of the inside of her ship. Comfortable sofas, a small tea table, a fully stocked bar, and a wall of small jars filled with herbal teas. I only saw a small terminal in the corner, and not in a particularly complex setup, so it couldn't be her work office.
"What's your poison?" Tela said, heading for the bar.
The fact that she had mentioned poison made me do a double take, but... surely she wouldn't just bring me here to poison me, would she? No, go for some tea. Something safer.
"White Mala, thanks," I said.
She served herself a rather large glass of some fizzy alcoholic drink, and I got a steaming cup of the only asari tea I had remembered at the time. It was nice, noticeably sweet but not sugary. Almost like a nectar. I hoped Tela hadn't slipped anything in there.
"So how did you find me?" I finally said, after both of us were comfortably seated.
She smiled and just raised her hands, as if gesturing around her. I'm the Broker, she seemed to say. "I'd have thought you would have asked me why, instead of how," she said.
"Okay..." I replied, doing a mental reassessment of my situation. "I figured with this we'd be even."
"Even? Tela said, and her smile vanished. "You think putting me here was a favour? It took me nearly six months to get out of Tevos' clutches, and it cost me, Morgan. You owe me."
Without waiting for an answer, she raised her omni-tool, and with a flick, she put up a picture. The recognition was instant. Shepard. Intubated, injured, resting on a hospital bed. That was all the picture showed. I forced myself to calmness even as the implants kicked in, spurred into action by the discharge of adrenaline. I had my eyes fixed on Tela now.
"You owe me twice."
"What have you done with Shepard?" I said, my voice flat, low.
"Saved her life," Tela said, bringing her omni-tool down. "Cerberus was poking and prodding around her. You might not believe me, but I can show you the evidence."
"And what, you"re keeping her hostage?"
"That wouldn't do any good," Tela replied airily. She took her glass, sipped her bubbly cocktail, and put it down again with a satisfied air. "I don't even know where she is. As far as I know, she's in one of Benezia's safest locations. I gave her away, and called it a day."
They were just words, but I couldn't tell how true they were. Tela was difficult to read at best, and I wasn't the most proficient when it came to reading people either.
"I'm not going to work for you," I finally said.
"And why not? I'm the only one taking the Reaper threat seriously."
I had to pick up the jaw from the floor at that. There was no hint of teasing in her voice, no laughter, nothing. It was a flat, firm declaration without a sliver of falsehood that I could hear.
"You... And what, Benezia isn't?"
Tela sighed. "Benezia is an asari, Roy. She wants everyone to get along. If she wasn't so preoccupied these days she'd have already stuck her fins between the Hierarchy and the Systems Alliance." She took another sip of her drink, thoughtful for a moment, then looked at me, a hint of a smile on her lips. "But we know better, don't we? We don't have time for that. If we want the galaxy to be ready to fight extinction, it needs to be in a fighting mood."
"What have you done?" I said.
"Done? Nothing. I'm just letting nature take its course. You don't arm yourself when you get along with your neighbours. You arm yourself when you feel threatened. I want tensions to escalate, and war to be in everyone's minds."
"We're not going to beat the reapers if we destroy each other before the reapers arrive."
"I can keep it under control. I know who to push, and who to punish."
"It's a very dangerous game," I replied, and took a sip of my tea. Damn I was hungry as hell, they had fed me during the trip, but Cerberus hadn't been too generous with their food.
"Perhaps. If you're thinking of your recent encounter with the Victory of Galatana, there was little anyone could have done to stop that."
I eyed her with suspicion, my eyes narrowing slightly, but she only offered a dispassionate shrug.
"Spectres, STG, Cerberus, even myself of course, all knew it was coming, but let it happen. Everyone needed to see what the conflict would look like. A lot has changed since the Relay 314 incident."
"You knew and you said nothing?" I said, my voice rising in anger.
"Everybody knew, Roy. Everybody who matters."
She let me stew for a while, drinking my cup of tea while she got a second refill for her drink. I wasn't sure what she'd want from me. Or, rather, I wasn't sure what else was in my head that she might be interested in, and I wasn't about to let her go window shopping inside. But what she said... No, I was pissed that she knew about the trap we were walking in and hadn't said a word, but if, as she said, everyone knew, then... What? We were supposed to spring the trap anyway? Good people had died during that battle. Damn near cost us the entire Ninth fleet, small as it was.
But the nagging feeling was that she might not be entirely wrong. To stoke the fires of war, that is. Look at the Systems Alliance, there had been a noticeable increase in pro-war sentiment after the attack on Mindoir. I knew eventually it'd escalate. Torfan was still in my mind, the place where the N7 in my simulation made his name. At a high cost, at that.
After a while, there was a ping from her omni-tool, which seemed to be what she had been waiting for.
"Maybe you don't want to work for me any more than I wanted to work for my predecessor," Tela was saying, standing up and straightening her clothes. "But maybe you should thing about working with me, when it's called for. And I intend to collect, you owe me twice."
I stood up as well, meeting her gaze. She didn't even offer her hand, she probably knew I wouldn't take her. Asari and their melds. Instead, she gestured with her head at the terminal by the corner.
"You have a call."
She left the room, and I was a bit confused. Call? Shepard maybe? I hoped. Or maybe someone from the Alliance. Shit, I had to go back and I had been AWOL for quite a while. Almost a month if memory served. I sat in front of the terminal, and after a while, it sprang to life.
I didn't recognize the turian looking at me.
"Roy Morgan?" the turian said.
"And you are...?" I replied.
"Talen Kelaye, private detective," he said. "I see the information I gave the Broker paid off," he added, his mandibles flexing in a turian smile.
That way meant pain. That was all she knew. Pain. This way, things were good. Happier. There was the sound of laughter. Feelings of comfort. Love. There were all scenes she knew had been buried for a long time, but now they were there for her. She moved from one to the next, touching them with extreme care, afraid of the fragility that sustained everything around her.
She knew this one. Cold outside. A warm fire, and a warmer blanket. Big, strong arms around her, holding her, protecting her. Nothing mattered at that moment, only the feelings of comfort.
In the distance, she could hear music. The music had been getting louder over time, slowly but noticeably. The melody was intriguing, but it was coming from the wrong way. She wanted to know what it was, but there was pain in the way.
Another one. Warmth. An open field. Laughter. Her breathing was fast, she was running, but she wasn't running in fear. It was a game. A young boy chased her. She knew that boy. Family. Love.
The music was increasing in volume. Why? No, she wouldn't go. Pain. That way was nothing but pain.
No. There was more than that.
She didn't want the pain. But the colours were beautiful. The song painted her memories in brighter colours. The melody unchanged, but the song, so bright, so inviting.
Pain.
She didn't want the pain. She recoiled, looking through her memories. That one. That one had pain, right? She didn't need more than that. Climbing a tree. Wrong footing. A branch broke under her. The fall. The pain. Family arrived quickly. Held her as they took her away. There was pain, but there was comfort.
The music did not abate. She wanted to reach deeper, away from the pain, but the song was so enticing. Maybe she could endure the pain. Maybe that's what the song wanted. But it hurt so bad.
There is more beyond the pain.
Memories in the distance. Beyond the pain. Closeness. Friendship. Maybe more. But how could it compare? She didn't want to, but the music called her.
Walk past the pain.
The roar of ships above them. The screams. Four eyes looking at her. Struggle. Fear. She wanted to turn around, run away. Love. Comfort. Behind her.
Push past the pain!
Blood. Dead. Family. The pain, so sharp, so deep. Hands carrying her. Pain all around her, pain as far as she could see.
Look around you.
There was someone else. Reassuring. Strong. Hate. Not hate. Pain. She pushed the pain at him, but hated herself for doing it. She didn't want to. She did it anyway. It hurt when she did, and it hurt when she didn't.
It was closer to go forward now. Her memories became more and more clear. The moment of acceptance. She had put her arms around him, and drew him as close as she could. The moment she let go of the pain, stopped trying to hurt him. She would rather hurt herself. Instead, the pain had started to dull. There was comfort. There was not-family-but-close. There was love, some kind of love at least.
Now she recognized the music.
Your melody awakens, Warrior-Princess.
Singer-of-Dawn! Your song...
Song of rebirth, song of healing. Weave your melody with ours, let your voice paint a new song.
I can't... I'm trying...
The song had become a deafening chorus, a torrent of colour and power filling her mind.
Awaken! Your hive needs the song of her queen. Awaken!
With a gasp, Shepard opened her eyes, her chest heaving deeply and painfully. She looked around, and her eyes immediately met the person sitting by her bed. No, her eyes weren't playing tricks, that was a rachni worker perched atop her blonde hair.
"Goldie?" Shepard said. Her voice was thin, and sounded different than she remembered.
The blonde woman's face opened up in the biggest smile she had ever seen.
"SHEPPY!"
Author's Notes: Wow. Wow, wow, wow, so many of you have come out of the woodwork to welcome me back, thank you! Really, thank you! Life has been a bit... Miranda-ish in recent times, if you catch my drift. I'm running a freelancing gig these days after "adjustments" that ended up with me in the unemployment line, and while I'm doing ok (freelancing Bioinformatics isn't exactly straightforward), I've had to adjust severely. Then again, as many of you should have deduced after following my namesake through Divergence and Convergence, living on a shoestring budget is something I'm adept at. On the other hand, there's something to be said about being my own boss, heh. Always look on the bright side of life.
But that aside, what a welcome! Yes, we're back, and I intend to keep it going. Definitely a good distraction, let me tell you.
Now, to what you probably are more interested in, the chapter itself. So. Many. Threads! Yeah, it kept getting longer and longer. If I had gotten further along in the previous chapter, I probably would have been able to bring a few more of those threads into this one (among others, I'll make time next chapter to show what Benezia has been up to, and do I have plans!). Also, a lot more info on Sheppy. And Roy, oh boy, Roy gets to pay some of his debt back. Liara? Yeah, I am excited, although it might be a bridge too far for this fic, mostly because of what I'm planning with her and... No spoilers! Sorry :)
What I didn't want was to end up in a cliffhanger. Or, well, too BAD a cliffhanger. At 10,000 words, the chapter is already quite long, and to follow-up any of the open threads would require quite a bit, so I figured I give enough of a tease (I don't count it as a cliffhanger), and keep the interest on the next installment that way. The alternative was for Roy to still be in Cerberus' clutches, and Sheppy still out of it by the end, so I reorganized things and left much thread tying for next chapter simply because I think the pace would have suffered too much otherwise.
Questions! Pretty much no questions for the last chapter, just a lot of welcome backs, which made me feel all warm and fuzzy :)
Uemei: The rescue I had planned, which you can see here, was more of a "who gets there first" :D And Roy still has no idea every power in the galaxy with half a brain was looking for him lol. I almost had Tela Vasir explain it to him, but I couldn't find a good place to plug it with the dialog flow I had set up. He'll figure it out eventually.
Next time! Well, next time, as I mentioned, Roy paying some of his debt (and a rant on my part, I'm going to headcanon something I think is complete BS otherwise), asari politics, Sheppy waking up, and we'll see what else I can squeeze in.