If she had to stop and think about it, Talitha might have been worried about the turn her life had taken. A year and change ago, she was an Ensign aboard the Normandy, a position she had thought was a pretty nondescript place to serve the Systems Alliance. A small frigate, with nothing really to distinguish it from the myriad of frigates all over the fleets. Or so she had thought. It had been a bit of a disappointment after the endorsement from her previous commanding officer. Then the details had started to leak. Captain David Anderson himself? She knew of him, if not him personally. Then the XO, none other than Commander Shepard. Then they had picked up a Spectre. Maybe it was no ordinary frigate, after all.
She hadn't known the half of it.
At that time, she had been proud of serving aboard that ship. As small as her contribution was, she was part of something big. There had been trying times ahead of them, hard losses. One thing she regretted was not having been on time to join the Commander when she stole the Normandy. The Commander had gone on to save the galaxy, and all she had done was help protect a handful of civilians aboard the Citadel.
She swore she wouldn't let that happen again if she could help it. She didn't know at the time how much that promise would hold her. A few weeks later, everyting had gone to hell. It had gone from watching the ground team clean up geth outposts to... She couldn't even describe it. She felt like she had lost everyone. And she nearly died in the process.
And for the last year (and change), she had been desperately trying to think they could get it all back. That once Shepard was back, everything would go back to normal. Her rational mind kept telling her that it was insane to even contemplate the idea of Commander Shepard being, in not so many words, resurrected. Before te Normandy, she knew nothing about Cerberus. Afterwards, she knew they were a terrorist group. Or so she thought. Yet she was expecting Cerberus to be the ones to restore things to normal. It didn't make any sense.
But she kept hoping. Hoping was all she could do.
"Beginning maneuvers, loading approach vector," she said absently, her hands almost working on autopilot over the terminal.
"Home sweet home," Joker said, as the SR2 came to rest in the bay. The magnetic clamps hit the hull, and a muffled thump sound ran through the cabin. "Can't wait to take her out next. After they do all the fixes I told them to do last time. Why do they even have me here if they aren't going to listen?"
"I hear you," Talitha replied, going through the power down procedures.
"What's up? I distinctly remember you saying you wanted a bigger ship when you boarded the Normandy," Joker prodded her.
Talitha chuckled under her breath, and made an effort to smile. "That was before I knew her better," she said.
"Then give this girl a chance. You know she'll be even better next time."
"You just want the leather seats," Talitha said.
"A man has certain needs. If I am going to spend half my life sitting here, I deserve a bit of luxury. Otherwise I might as well have stayed with the Alliance."
"You're not wrong," Talitha said. She finished her task, and the systems started their slow power down cycle. Emergency lighting came to life as the rest of the light dimmed. "But if you ask me, what we really need is a damn bar aboard."
"Joker laughed at that, shaking his head as he did. "I heard Shepard say that once."
"So let's get her that damn bar," Talitha said. "Imagine her surprise when she finally wakes up."
"I guess she could use a good one, she's going to be surprised all right."
With a smile and a nod, Talitha left Joker to finish his report - which he always, always complained about despite filling them to absurdly minute detail - and headed for the airlock. Yeah, Shepard was definitely in for a surprise. For a lot of surprises. And every time she thought of Shepard, her mind went straight back to the Hibiscus, and Roy sitting there alone. It had been-
"Hey girl," a feminine voice she knew well called from behind.
It was Rosie, coming to join her. She, too, had joined Cerberus. Or, rather, the Cerberus crew that would be Shepard's one day. Very few of them had done so, most had decided to go back to civilian life. Sometimes she envied them, but she couldn't imagine dodging the responsibility like that. Maybe if they had been told that Shepard could be resurrected they might have joined. Then again, it wasn't a secret to be shared so freely. Only those who had decided to stay had been told about the ruse that had been Shepard's funeral.
She could understand the need. Rosie, well, it felt like she had joined because she had no other options. Losing Grieco had hit her hard. Losing the Normandy had been the final straw. But with some help, she had come around. She was doing a lot better these days.
"Hey, how did it go down there?" Talitha said.
"The weapons systems on this thing are really not up to par, they need to upgrade them and fast."
"If they do that, I have no idea how they're going to manage the energy requirements. The Tantalus drive is insane."
"All I'm telling you, all the speed in the world won't help if you can shoot down the enemy. And there's no way this thing will ever outrun them."
"Them who?" Talitha said, furrowing her brow.
"Them anyone," Rosie replied. She really wasn't a fan of the ship, yet here she was with the rest.
They stepped into the decon chamber, and the airlock started the pressure equalization and surface decontamination. Sometimes she wondered. It's not like this was the quarian fleet and they had no immune systems, what exactly was so dangerous aboard a ship that spent its time either docked to the Minuteman Station, or flying. Granted, this was their shakedown run, first time they really flew it in anger. They could have gone anywhere.
"So, nervous?" Rosie said, elbowing her lightly.
"Nervous?" Talitha replied, confused.
"Oh, you haven't heard? Morgan is back, he's on the station."
"... what?"
"Yeah! Thought you'd have kept in touch, you haven't? Joergen told me on Thursday when I was bitching him out about the main gun specs."
"No! I mean... no."
"Oh come on girlfriend, you get that look when anyone mentions him. He's not my type, but life a little."
"Just let it be, I'm not- hey!"
As she spoke, the decon finished, and Rosie walked off with a purpose, completely ignoring her.
"Hey Joergen! Is Morgan around?"
"Rosie!" Talitha protested. It was for naught.
"Good day to you too!" the blonde man replied with a surprisingly cheerful tone. "You just missed him, he left yesterday."
"What? Why?"
"Something came up, that's all I know," he said, adding a shrug for emphasis. "So how did it go?"
Talitha didn't stick around, she just stomped away angrily. She wasn't angry at Rosie, not really. She was angry at the world. She was angry at herself. Had been since she found out Shepard was dead.
The last moments of the rescue mission aboard the Collector ship had been almost heart-stopping. Joker had decided to stick his nose, or rather, the Hibiscus' nose, right in the middle of the hangar to get the crew back. From the front, she had a full view of what was happening, although keeping the ship in place with engines hot and ready to jump away in an instant only let her take so much in. But they were coming. She tried to count, but she couldn't keep up. It had to be all of them, she had thought. And once the craziness had ceased, she had gone to check. Two people missing. She had known that, Roy had told her, but now she knew the names. But also, Shepard.
She was dead, some were saying. No way. No way Roy would let that happen. The way he had organized the rescue, the way he had led them - even if he wouldn't admit it - he couldn't have failed at the end. He couldn't have failed her. She went looking for him, and caught a glimpse of him and Miranda in the lab at the back of the ship. Then, Miranda left. Perfect. She would confront him and ask him. They had to be wrong.
Then, as she was closing in, she heard it. That sound. He was crying? She then realized that there was a pod in the lab. No points for guessing.
And she felt anger at him. She nearly stepped in the lab to yell at him in anger, even as she was fighting back tears. How dare he. How dare he! But she stopped herself short, tried to put herself together.
And that's when Kasumi had appeared out of nowhere. Probably after observing her. That had thrown her out of a loop. That, and the look the Japanese woman gave her. Sharp, full of reproach. And the words she had mouthed at her. The exact words.
You selfish bitch.
She had seen her hesitate. She had seen her stand there and look at Roy in anger. She had probably figured out. And by now, no doubt she had told Roy, too. She had avoided her the rest of the trip, but every time Roy was near her, Kasumi somewhat found a way to be nearby. Observing her. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Maybe it was because she felt completely ashamed of herself. Regardless, if Kasumi hadn't told Roy yet back then, she was sure that she would have by now. The two of them seemed to have a close relationship, much too close to be a simple friendship. There was something between the two, even if Kasumi clearly had eyes for no one but this Keiji when looking that way. No, she had blow it big time.
It didn't matter. Shepard. If she came back, everything would be fine.
That was her hope.
Omega. The cloaca of the galaxy. That was the name Garrus had for it. A year ago, he had come ready to make a difference. To break the chains of rules and protocol that only served to help the criminals, not the law abiding citizens. Once, he might have call them the innocent, but there were no innocents in Omega. That much was clear.
He looked through the scope, slowing his breath. Just wait. Be patient. He knew the routine of his target, he'd come to the corner and stop, leaning back against the wall. Habit, showing he was open for business. As he waited, his eyepiece took stock of the passing pedestrians. Potential targets, all of them. Every so often one would ping. Rarely "Wanted", mostly "know for". None of them more important than his current target.
There he was. Human, distinctive scar across the upper lip on the left side. He dropped a small bag against the wall, and stood in front of it.
Patience.
It was the second time he had done this. Something had spooked him last time. Given how he had returned and not looked in his direction, it wasn't him. Garrus made a mental note to check for competitors nearby. Could kill two scumbags with one stone. He mused as the flighty human looked around, pacing a bit, then finally came to rest against the wall as usual. Once, he would have waited to fish for information. Contacts. Threads to follow. Now? He had realized it was unnecessary. Get rid of the scum at the bottom, and the ones above them will make themselves known or starve. Simple. Effective. And more importantly, able to execute it as a team of one.
After a pres of the trigger, the human's head became a grisly decoration on the wall, his brains sliding down as people scrambled away from the sudden explosion of brains, looking for the origin of the shot. They didn't find it, of course. He was far too well placed. He observed the scene for a bit longer. As expected, the crew recovered quickly, going about their business. Several figures moved towards the corpse. A scuffle broke out between those who wanted the spoils. Corpse wasn't even cold.
That was a familiar scene. That had been him, not that long ago. Choking on the blood of the human whose throat he had ripped with his teeth. As he struggled, weak, looking for help, two street urchins have found him. They took his gun and his eyepiece, would have taken everything if he hadn't suddenly, and unexpectedly, fought back. Managed to drag himself to a clinic after cutting through his throat with his talon to open the airways. And the clinic was a cover for a STG op of some description. Oh, the salarian treated him, and was probably a real doctor too, but he could tell the type.
It was the day he realized Archangel could only exist alone. Shepard might have built a team, but she was only fighting the Reapers. She wasn't trying to fight Omega. He was. Day after dayhe waited for a rescue that never came. And even as he managed by himself, Omega reminded him once more what kind of place it was. No, this wasn't the place to count on anyone having your back. He went back to his team. They were not exactly relieved to see him. They were surprised, more than anything. Shocked, even. It was never the same again. He realized just how inadequate the rest of his team was. Shepard had tried the same. Like Liara, who had spent all her life either in her cozy office in the University, or in archeological digs where the biggest danger was stepping on a Prothean fossilized s'kak, and nearly paid for her adventures with her life. Or worse still, Morgan, who not only was completely unqualified, but had, in fact, gotten people killed with his incompetence. It was all the same, he had just been lying to himself about it. So he left them, and warned them that they had to stop too.
He made his way down the shaft and towards the thirteenth level, where his latest hideout was. He kept mobile, always looking for a new spot. Easiest way to disappear was to head to the lower levels, but the lower levels were where vagrants made their home. Which meant there was always rooting around. He had to stay mobile. The thought became more crystallized when he reached his first hidden signal. An ultrathin, easily breakable string put across the narrow access towards the back space between the hulls. Damn. He carefully prepared his assault rifle and switched his eye visor to thermal. Some marks on the wall, almost the same temperature as the rest of it. Whoever passed through had done so recently. Garrus took a different direction, moving up thowards the cargo ramp of the abandoned warehouse, and carefully peeking from above. It didn't take him long to identify the intruder. Wasn't even trying to hide. With a gesture of distaste, he racked his assault rifle and stood up in plain view, about ten feet above the intruder.
"Melanis," he called.
The blue-armored turian standing there turned to the sound of his voice, and her mandibles opened slightly in a turian smile. It was short lived, Garrus didn't smile back.
"You're hard to find," she said. "Can we talk?"
"No," Garrus replied. "I'm not interested."
"Well, listen at least," she insisted. "We've tracked a large shipment of Hallex coming into the station soon. Biggest one we've managed to see. We're planning a hit, and could use some extra eyes. And a gun." She waited, but Garrus didn't answer. "Are you going to make me beg?"
"I told you, I'm not interested. And I also told you, neither should you. Unqualified people will get themselves and others hurt. Or killed." He thought he saw a twitch on Melanis' face. "Who?"
"Nobody's dead," she retorted hotly. "And if you're so right, why not help us? Maybe we could use some of that help and guidance."
"Here's some help and guidance. Find somewhere else in the Traverse. Omega will not continue to be as forgiving as it has been with you all."
An angry squaking sound escaped Melanis' throat before she caught herself, and after making a gesture of frustration with her hand, she looked at him again. "I'm not going to argue with you again. This is big, and thought you could be interested. Stupid me, right?" She pulled something out of her omni-tool and, after gesturing at him, tossed it in her direction. Garrus caught it easily. A data disk.
"What's this?"
"I don't know, it's locked to your biometrics. A data disk. We had to trade some favours to find you, and the payment was to give you that disk. I don't know what's in it."
With that, Melanis turned around and stomped away angrily, not even looking back. Garrus stuck to his position until she was gone, and did a perimeter sweep before going into his hiding hole. Untouched. Melanis had found the location, but might not have actually found the hidden entrance. Good. It gave him a bit of time before packing and leaving. He looked at the data disk and considered his options. It seemed innocuous enough, as far as data disks went. He had the right tool to check it. An old omni-tool he had taken from one of his targets a while ago, which had contained a treasure trove of information. At the time, he had disabled all wireless protocols to ensure the data breach remained secret, and had since become his secure terminal for keeping data out of the networks. He inserted the data disk and, to his moderate surprise, the information was indeed encrypted behind a biometrick cryptographic lock. After a surface scan of his face and hands, the data disk unlocked. Someone knew who he was.
The omni-tool projector came to life, and what appeared was a flat, featureless humanoid figure projection.
"Archangel," the synthesized voice said. "Or, should I say, Garrus Vakarian. I hope this message finds you in good health, and I apologize for the theatrics. I needed a way to contact you that would not create suspicion, and your friend here provided the ideal opportunity."
Friend here? Oh I get it, he was expecting Melanis to be here. Maybe not that well informed after all.
"I am the Shadow Broker, as you might have surmised." No, no he hadn't. He was half tempted to stop the message there, but he knew the Broker was an important source of information for the galaxy. "I have been contacted by members of an important government body looking for information regarding a targeted solution for a particularly irksome matter. That government body requested the best individual to deal with such problem, and your name, Archangel, was mentioned."
Now the urge to shut down the message intensified, but the Broker must have anticipated this, because his next answer surprised him.
"I don't expect you to conduct an assassination," the Broker said. "You will find the information package that accompanies this message rather... compelling. It is a task for which I believe Garrus Vakarian, not Archangel, would be ideally suited. Payment, in credits or information, will of course be provided. And as proof of good faith, I will offer an important piece of information right now." The figure turned slightly to the side, as if he was expecting to be talking to someone else. "The raid against the Hallex distribution center you are currently planning should not be carried out. It is not the gangs of Omega that lead this operation, but Aria's operatives themselves. Due to the activities of Archangel, Aria has taken a more hand-son approach to maintaining the sources of bread and circuses for her subjects. Interfering with this operation would be extremely hazardous to your health."
Garrus shut down the message immediately. His mind was absolutely racing with what had just transpired. Her former team were about to stick their faces straight into Aria's business. The revelation that Aria was taking over drug distribution, at least to some extent, was somewhat shocking. She had always had her hands on it, sure, but she let the gangs do their thing, always acting as if she was too far above the petty things. That change had implications for him too going forward. But them... If they tried to take on such an operation they might succeed, but they'd be signing their death warrants. And he found half his mind screaming at him that he had to stop them, while the other half was just telling him it wasn't his problem. That it was inevitable. That if it wasn't now, it would happen some other time down the line.
And there was a lot more, too. The message from the Broker, the way it was phrased. He had clearly gotten information from someone who knew him. And knew him well, too. And bread and circuses? That was a human expression if he had ever heard one. Very obviously too. There was always the chance that it actually wasn't the Shadow Broker, but that was a lot of hard to acquire information, and brokers at that level don't like mentioning each other falsely. A kind of pact to avoid cannibalizing each other's networks in a destructive way.
No, there was a lot to unpack, but he didn't have the time. He had to make a decision, and make it fast.
"How is it looking down there?" Melanis called through the comms.
There was no direct answer, but she saw the bundle twitch at the end of her scope and a quick hand gesture shoot from under it. Butler was in place, and seemed unconcerned. Good. He was disguised as just another drunk vagrant, one of many. A group of thugs had come two hours ago to clear the area around the building and push the assorted scum away from it. Butler had been part of that lot. And about half an hour later, he had slowly moved closer to the building, while coaxing the rest of the vagrants to do the same. It was a crowded area, so it was desirable for those who didn't have a place to go. Plenty of corners, nooks and crannies to make a temporary shelter. Once or twice the thugs had pushed back those who got too adventurously close, but other than that, they seemed not to pay them too much mind. Butler wasn't even the closest one.
"Are the charges in place?"
"Not on the North side," Weaver called back. "they have sealed the exhausts on that end and I can't break the locks without alerting them. The rest are there."
"Copy that, it will have to do," Melanis replied.
She kept her eyes on the building. Waiting. Detective work requires patience, Garrus had told her over and over. Damn him. And damn herself. Ever since he had been kidnapped - and tortured, though he didn't speak of it she was sure of it - he had never been the same. Sure, they all knew they weren't quite up to par compared to his oh-so-historied experience with the Spectres and whatnot. But what before had been shortcomings Garrus himself encouraged them to overcome, now had turned into evidence of how unprepared they were for what they were doing.
He blamed them for not finding and rescuing him, she was also completely sure of that. He hadn't seen how his disappearance had affected them. They had gone out there hard and nasty, hit every single gang den they could find, and some they only had suspected too. They desperately, desperately had wanted to find him, but as days passed, their hope turned to despair. Garrus wasn't just their leader, he was also their detective. They didn't know how to investigate, find clues, pick up trails, not the way he did it. It seemed almost supernatural sometimes, like he could read minds. They didn't. They didn't even know where to start. They couldn't find him. They simply couldn't.
They carried on without him, but it had never been the same. And some had already called it quits. Erash and Mierin were already gone, looking for greener pastures. Bot said to call them if they decided to set up a similar op somewhere that wasn't Omega, but she couldn't be sure they meant it. She'd like to think they did, but her better judgement disagreed. In a way, this hit was one they needed as a team. So far, Archangel had done more about the gangs by himself than the rest of them had managed together since he left.
And what annoyed her was the feeling that he might be right. No, not exactly. It was the fact that they couldn't prove him wrong. Montage and Vortash were laying down back at the base, the worse for wear after their last attack. It had gone well until reinforcements had arrived. They were sure they wouldn't get reinforcements for another 10 minutes at least. They had been wrong. Details mattered, and details was what Garrus knew how to get.
Details didn't matter this time. They'd wait for the deal, collect personal information, and blow the shit out of the building, or at least as much as they could right now. That was it. Keep it simple, keep it neat, keep it quick and brutal. Show that it could be done.
She rested the sniper rifle down for a moment to stretch and get her joints back in place, relieved after the long immobile period. A moment later she heard a rustling behind her, and she turned in a flash, knife already in hand. A large turian. She was about to lunge at him when she was hit by a flash of recognition, and stopped short, which gave him the advantage to grab her wrist and push her down in a purely turian wrestling move.
"Slow," Garrus said.
"Didn't want to stab you," Melanis replied. "Decided to bless us with your presence?" she added, the adrenalin of the moment making her talk before she could think.
"No, decided to warn you," Garrus said, and let go of her. "Call it off."
"What?"
"Call it off," he insisted. "You're in over your heads."
"Really?" Melanis retorted, now truly annoyed, but keeping her voice down to a hoarse whisper. "And what detail have we missed, oh great detective? The tunnels? Mined. The perimeter? Rigged with explosives. The network? We have had access for the last two days. What?"
"The gang. It's not a gang. It's Aria's people."
"... what?"
"You heard me. Aria's taking over, so stay out of her way," Garrus said. "Or don't," he added after a moment, "up to you. You've been warned."
"And how do you know all that?"
Garrus chuckled, a kind of dark, rueful laughter she hadn't heard from him before. "You're not good at this, Melanis. None of you are. I've told you before. Get out of it, go somewhere else."
The two of them looked at each other wordlessly for a few minutes. Melanis was thinking, Garrus... he didn't seem to be doing anything, just waiting. She couldn't even tell if he was waiting for an answer or not. After a while, a call through the comms broke the silence.
"The shuttle is approaching, seven o'clock. Could be our guests, peeps are looking tense 'round here."
Melanis turned to look at the building below them. Indeed, the thugs were actively looking around now, and a few of them had come to push the vagrants back a bit more. Crap. It was go time or not, and Garrus had just dropped a massive s'kak right on top of her head.
"Garrus, how can you... know..." she trailed off when she looked back, and Garrus was gone.
Damn him.
"What's it going to be Melanis?" Butler called.
With a deep breath and a grinding of teeth, she opened the comms again. "Abort."
"What?!"
"Abort, I just got new intel. Targets are too hot. Eject immediately."
Damn him. Below, Butler stood from his spot, throwing the blanket that was covering him and yelling loudly as he sang a drunken song. One of the thugs gave him a shove, and he drunkedly stumbled and walked away, shouting imprecations at everyone who crossed his path. He even stopped to throw the empty bottle at a wall and pull his pants down to take a piss. He might have actually been drunk after all.
Charges couldn't be removed, but couldn't be traced to them either. Someone would find them eventually, trigger mechanism burn down but otherwise packed with reactive materials. That was sure to cause a stir. And if that really was Aria's people, they'd have to get rid of all materials that could connect them to the planted explosives. They'd have to figure out a new construction. Not the most difficult thing in the galaxy.
She waited, watching her team move away, until it was just her. She waited until the people in the shuttle got down, making sure she recorded their faces well. Mostly asari, there was one human male in that group, and one of the asari was clearly in charge, given how deferential everyone was towards her. Melanis made sure she had good images. She had to make sure Garrus hadn't lied to them. But she already felt in her bones that he hadn't. He had just shown them up once again.
Damn him.
Entry 74:
Brain pattern comparisons between the clone and Shepard are now complete, and results are too ambiguous to call one way or another. After conducting memory stimulation on Shepard, and contrasting with the pristine brain patterns of the clone, differences can be found. Statistical analysis makes me confident in the result that there are statistically significant differences between the two, but we cannot be sure whether they can be ascribed to the Collector implants modifying Shepard's brain patterns, decay due to prolonged cold storage, or the expected inaccuracies of our reconstructions. Even the most detailed memory in humans can be different from reality, specially if those memories were fixed during stressful times.
Given the differences, we might pursue a different line of analyses and conduct stimulus response tests. Our scenario reconstruction allows us to estimate Shepard's responses to stimuli based on the events we have reconstructed, and construct a differential between the current Shepard, and the one we have modeled based on those memory reconstructions. To put it simply, we can verify whether Shepard's basic personality responds as expected. It is a less accurate method than memory stimulation, but it can prove valuable as an independent test based on the same dataset. If nothing else, it will allow us to evaluate the usefulness and accuracy of our reconstruction.
Miranda Lawson signing off.
Author's Notes: Couple of scenes. I promised before that I'd make one from Talitha's point of view, and here it is. I do hope that it's not disappointing, although it's quite... frustrating, I suppose, from the neutral, looking-from-the-outside point of view? Just a guess. Also, we get to see what Garrus has been up to in Omega, and things aren't going too well. Or they are, if you think of it from the Archangel point of view. Clearly he is becoming a lethal and efficient operative, but at what cost, one has to wonder.
Also, side note, it might read a bit like I'm shitting all over Garrus' team (which, remember, I'm plucking straight from Masses to Masses, because that was the first fic I read that actually made the work of bringing the Archangel team to life, so to speak), but it's more the effect of fracture. Even a good, professional team can fall apart when morale fails, and they clearly have a morale problem right now.
No guesses as to where the Shadow Broker got all that information about Archangel, right? As to what's coming next, and what the request might be, and who it's coming from and all the rest, well, soon. It'll tie two threads into one neat little bow.
As I always say, if you like my fics and want to give me a bit of support, you can do so here!
tinyurl (period) com (slash) y2q9cop6
(Still think FFnet sucks at hyperlinks).
Reviews time! I think everyone's on Christmas break, but a few of you still came here to read and leave me your thoughts, so thanks a lot!
RIOSHO: You know Kasumi would totally pick up on the battle music theme Gee had going with Roy :D And you're not wrong about Roy's body, that'll be a somewhat minor plot point in the distant future!
Surprise Crayfish: Thanks! I enjoy writing Kasumi a lot, and she's definitely got the rapport going with Roy. Truth to be told, Kasumi can build a good rapport with anyone :D
Guest: Roy got the alien shield harness back after returning to the Citadel post-mining and attached adventures, Mika left it in Roy's room and didn't carry it around with her anymore.
AJAX087: Well, it looks like Tela's signed up and is on board with the Broker/Reaper hunting, so I'm guessing she'll show up more :)
OnkelJo : Somewhat murderous AI plus increasingly unstable Shepard, I'm thinking the Bizarro world version of Master Chief and Cortana haha!
Rainsfere: Yup! That A.I. deserves a medal as much as Kasumi, only nobody other than Kasumi and Keiji know. And he finally got his wish of being in a luxurious ship with naked asari looking over is circuits. Not sure about the naked part, but there's only so much you can do haha. And yeah, Tela should be an interesting addition, she's not one to be a wallflower. Pride in breaking the superstition? You bet. She's competitive if nothing else :D
BJ Hansen: Gotcha haha! Makes it more fun, doesn't it? Imagine the shock of something that big that Roy didn't see coming!
SpecterXCove, hjcallipygian, thanks for the support!
Next time, on My Effect: Convergence! I'm thinking something special. Until then, thanks for reading!