Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: Belated Happy Holidays and New Year to everyone!
Episode 42: Midgame
Whatever Shepard might say about happily making the reporter look bad on her own segment, she would have much preferred not to deal with reporters at all. Khalisah moved with a sort of languidness that belied the confrontational nature of her work. That rankled Shepard's nerves more than it ought to have. Still, there was something for having sniper training, she reached into her reservoir of patience, drew a deep, controlled breath through her nose, held it, and slowly let it out. By the time Khalisah stopped in front of her, Shepard had a grip on her temper. Her ICT teammates would have joked that it was actually the killing intent that she was suppressing.
"Commander Shepard, you are a hard individual to get a hold of. Can I bother you for a few words for our viewers?" Khalisah asked.
Shepard almost went for another cool-down breath, but it would be noticeable, instead she slipped into a casual-seeming parade rest which would keep any clenched fist out of the camera's angle. "Sure, I can spare a few words." Let Khalisah make one crack with a vaguely xenophobic slant, Shepard would make her look like an idiot for less.
The reporter reached toward her omni-tool and tapped a series of commands that caused her camera drone to stiffen into filming stance over her shoulder and turn on its lights. "This is Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani. I am on Arcturus station tonight, in time to meet the woman of the hour, Lieutenant Commander Shepard."
Shepard tried to keep her face from faulting into a grimace. Khalisah was making this out like an exclusive interview she was graced with, something to wag in the face of all the other reporters, namely the ANN crews. Shepard had deleted their requests, and now to be giving Khalisah one? Suddenly she knew that she had blundered into something she did not care for.
"Now, Commander… the news channels are abuzz with the terrorist attack on Terra Nova that you averted with the narrowest of margins. Millions of people are safe tonight because of your efforts. Many of them probably think you are their champion."
Khalisah was building up alright. This was a woman who made a sport out of starting with a compliment and then firing the accusations. Shepard could already see what her line of questioning was going to be.
"I'm no champion. I only led the team that won the battle. There was eight of us total. But really this was a done by a whole lot more than just eight. The most difficult and sensitive task was done by the project's engineers." She wanted to see Khalisah twist that.
"Well yes… I suppose that is true. Still, I should say leadership such as yours is what moves the proverbial mountains. You are their hero tonight, even if people tend to forget just who their hero is. You are also a candidate for Council Spectre, and your team includes non-Alliance individuals."
Shepard heard the sound boots scuffing on the floor behind her. Ashley must have realized what was going on. Shepard spread the palm of her hand behind her back, flashing the lieutenant and gunny a silent hold order.
"Khalisah, it sounds to me like you have lost sight of what is most important here. I'm an Alliance officer, and as such, I will protect my people. My team helped me do just that. The individuals responsible for this act are dead, and those they took hostage are free and unharmed." Shepard flashed an award-winning, but brief grin. Her casual, nigh friendly tone was meant to disarm. Still, she knew how Khalisah and her viewers would only see the involvement of aliens as some twisted dependency, as if accepting help was dirty. Not that she honestly gave those people much consideration.
"Once again your optimism continues to astound." Khalisah said, her tone lowering as if she was talking to someone who just made a patently wrong statement that amused her.
That tone was designed to make someone react, but Shepard was not going to fall prey to petty baiting. Especially not when she could practically hear the mental gears grinding as Khalisah worked to find a way to twist things. Shepard had been careful to give a fundamentally true statement. The only doctoring was the sort of omission that would fall under need-to-know privileged information. The reporter was not privileged enough to need to know.
"It would seem that we are fortunate that your response was swift and forceful, and that you were not distracted by… other concerns." Khalisah's tone was calm.
Shepard thought that track switch was inevitable, but Khalisah did it with the wheels grinding because of the speed.
"Sources in the know have confirmed that the Galactic Council's response to the situation has been... unremarkable. First Eden Prime, and now this. It would seem that they do not particularly bother sending help unless their own people are in danger."
The reporter was falling back on her anti-Council narrative, now that the anti-Alliance one happened to yield nothing. Her petty attempts at coming out on top were as wearisome as they were precious. "That's just incorrect. Khalisah, you said so yourself, I am a Spectre in training. The Spectre assigned to oversee my training is on the Normandy, and he has never left active duty." Shepard replied blandly and automatically. She was not at all impressed with the slant of the question. "Bluntly put, we were acting with full and automatic Council approval." It was just unfortunate that she could not definitively say that Nihlus was ordered to handle the matter. That would have shut down Khalisah quickly, but it would be a lie. Nihlus was never ordered, he took the job up himself. Saying so would be making a distinction that Khalisah and her viewers would twist out of context, so it was best to omit it altogether.
She watched as Khalisah deflated. This was definitely not what the reporter wanted to hear, nor what she could work with. Shepard knew she had better drive the point home, before the woman found anything else to quibble over. "Your source seems to have confused some details, understandable given that I doubt they know the inner workings of the system." Or know anything, Shepard thought to herself. "The Council's legal designation of worlds as the rare Garden-class carries with it a slew of legalize. What is important here is that the willful destruction of such worlds carries with it an automatic response. In the specific case of an asteroid driven by artificial means -i.e. a rock with propulsion engines that is hijacked mid-transit from one place to another- it is the duty of a Spectre to stop the rock at any cost, to save lives as well as the rare Garden worlds. There is simply no need for formalities. Those would have wasted valuable time, and we would be criticized for that. What I am saying here, is that Spectres were there to stop the rock, and stop it we did. The timing issue is merely a confluence of circumstance. I happen to be both an Alliance Officer and a Spectre-in-training. Our people sent a distress signal to the Alliance, not the Council, and that is why I was first notified by Admiral Hackett, not the Council."
"Ah… yes. Of course." Khalisah said, though she was practically mumbling.
Shepard knew she had basically blown the argument, the reporter could no longer say that the Council sat back and did nothing now. Admittedly they kind of did sit back and do nothing, but her statement was not a lie either. It was a rather muddy area that could use some clarifying, but really, now was not the time, and Khalisah was the last person to make thin distinctions to. Her audience saw the universe as black and white, because their intelligence could not handle more information than that.
"In our previous conversation, shortly after the events of Eden Prime, I remember you telling me, to paraphrase, that you would be ever-ready to protect our people." Khalisah said.
Shepard kept her face intentionally flat. This was the beginning of Khalisah's retreat, while retreating was still good. She must have realized that she was not get anything useful.
"It would seem, Commander, that… you indeed continue to fulfil that promise with admirable aplomb. Prophetic as your promise unfortunately proven to be."
That was a white flag if ever Shepard saw one, even if it came with a passive-aggressive insinuation. She would not be baited into making a scene by something so pathetic.
"Well, this is has been an interesting interview, Commander. I sincerely wish you the best in your continuing endeavors. Perhaps when your status as Spectre in training changes, humanity will truly gain a stalwart champion on the galactic stage."
Shepard did not like that choice of words either, but she chose to roll with the punches. She stood by, silent, as she watched Khalisah issue orders for her drone. Within thirty seconds the flood-light turned off and its lens retracted into the housing. The reporter did not even bother with the pleasantries in saying good-bye, she turned around and walked off, muttering something about a bull rush. Shepard smiled like she had just won the lottery.
Ashley whistled, "Damn, Skipper. You didn't let her have a word, did you?"
"Should I have? Maybe this will teach her not to hound me. If she wants to keep any sense of professional pride she won't air that tape." This would be the second time that Shepard debunked Khalisah's arguments with a metaphorical sledge hammer. "I will not cater to her pathetic agenda. Her viewers are those who want to be the center of their own victim narrative. To keep them, Khalisah will go after anyone and everyone who will make the ratings. Think about it. She is always asking people to confirm the systemic failings. Her favorite targets are the Alliance and the Council. She wants them to be the bad guys. Quite frankly Khalisah is and Balak was a case of two garments cut from the same cloth." Shepard knew how that sounded like, and maybe the docking bay was not the place to discuss it, but her patience was in short supply right now.
Ashley nodded, "I would have paid good credit to have seen the look on her face had you told her that."
"The Commander would have never gone that far, especially not with a rolling camera drone," Kaidan argued calmly from Shepard's other side.
Shepard blinked, was it silly to think that right then they could pass off for her shoulder conscience spirits?
"I know… still, I would've paid to see it." Ashley murmured.
Shepard pretended she did not hear that exchange. "I still need to report to the Admiral, before he sends a squad to hunt me down." She said as she turned and resumed walking toward the doorway leading out of the docking lounge.
"Wouldn't want that, would we? That poor squad." Kaidan said blandly as he fell in step with her.
Shepard flashed the lieutenant a half-amused, half-grateful grin.
The journey from the docks to the Alliance Navy base in the saucer section was never exciting, or fast, but this time it ended up extra slow, even though Shepard managed to get through without being accosted by any more reporters. The real issue was all the salutes she had to give. It seemed like everyone was being particularly formal, even if protocol would have allowed them to be otherwise. More than one enlisted individual figuratively dropped everything to snap to attention and salute. Then those who had family on Terra Nova went the extra mile to thank her profusely. By the time Shepard got to the admiralty office building, her right arm felt like it had done ten sets of curls. Not that she was complaining, but really, it was just a touch ridiculous.
Once she was in the building getting to the right office was much quicker. Claudia only held them back for the moment or so it took her to announce their arrival, but the admiral had been expecting her, and his office door opened for Shepard to step inside. Ashley and Kaidan were to remain outside. Shepard knew the discussion would go into topics technically above their pay grade. However, nothing would stop her from filling them in later, if the need arose.
Once the door closed behind her, Shepard stopped in front of the admiral's desk, snapped to attention, and saluted, "Admiral Hackett, sir, reporting as ordered." She was not surprised that neither Captain Anderson nor her mother were present. She was far from selfish enough to have expected them to be there.
The admiral nodded in greeting. "At ease, Commander."
Shepard dutifully lowered her arm and slipped into parade rest.
"I've read over what you sent me and I have to say, Commander… that was a job excellently done. I am constantly amazed at how efficient your eccentric crew is, and how well you yourself manage to out-think your opponents."
"I just… do my job, sir." She just carried out the orders she received. "We had help from the inside, from Kate and her brother. They warned us about the bombs Balak had set. Once I knew that… it became essentially an infiltration, sabotage, and rescue operation. I executed it exactly how I learned to do it in the ICT program."
"Alright. I'll give you that. Now, someone else might remark on your choice to rub failure into Balak's face, but you will not hear a word about it from me."
Shepard detected a hint of amusement in her commanding officer's tone, which put her at ease. She had a feeling that in her place, the Admiral would have personally done the same. The Admiral was never one to mince words, he did not earn his commission during the Siege of Shanxi by worrying about perceptions. He led his squad into the thick of battle, and walked away with goals achieved and a wicked facial scar. His comment was more of a warning about some of the others. There would always be those who would castigate her for literally every single insignificant detail if it served their purposes and needs to do so.
"If we had a few more individuals whose definition of 'doing their job' was like yours…" the admiral went on. "However that is not the reason I called you here. I called you here is because I wanted to let you know that I've already received requests for your time from a certain… group. Just between you and me, Commander, I do not want you wasting time on them."
Shepard froze, she just knew who that group was. "The public relations vampires are looking at my neck, again?"
The admiral nodded, "Unfortunately. The number of women in the infantry corps is still not up to par."
Shepard closed her eyes to suppress her urge to groan. She wanted no part in any more campaigns that involved being in front of a camera, with makeup, and smiling pretty. The PR team would say otherwise, but those posters grossly misrepresented reality and expectations. She was of the opinion that the sort of individuals who would enlist because they thought those pictures were an accurate depiction of service were not the sort who did well in the service. The PR team really should not be peddling false impressions to hook the gullible, and doubly so with her likeness. There was no real glamor in the armed forces. "I'll let Nihlus know I'm available for that refresher course on the finer points of dealing with criminals and mercenaries. We might be out of touch for a few months while we're in the Terminus."
Admiral Hackett smiled.
Shepard froze, genuinely surprised.
"Well thank you, Commander. I now owe Hannah fifty credits."
Shepard knew she probably looked stupefied right then, but how did one to respond to this sort of thing? "Sorry, sir." That seemed like the safest option. Her mother had predicted she would say that? Or something like that? "Well, I'll just tell them how it is… it won't do to have a Spectre's mugshot on the advertisement roundels, as such, I am afraid I will have to decline the opportunity."
"Good." The admiral said as he straightened in his seat, and just like that it was as if nothing happened. "Now we can talk actual business." He admiral reached toward the stack of datapads at his right, picked one up, and set it down within her reach. "This is some information I received as an interested party… about the machinery from that mine on Daiwi."
The machinery at the bottom of that Prothean eezo mine? Shepard approached the desk and picked up the pad, eyes already scanning the opening lines.
"The Heretics expressed interest in that equipment. The research has been moved to Gagarin Station."
Shepard could read between the lines. A good half of the scientific work conducted on Gagarin Station fell under the umbrella of the Alliance's top-secret research and development initiative, a myth-spawning cabal of intellectuals collectively referred to as Skunkworks. If the machinery from Daiwi ended up in their hands then it was a bit of a big deal. Her eyes scanned ever lower over the contents of the pad, and it was at the first mention of a 'quantum core' that Shepard stopped and looked up. "The… mine's computers were a quantum box? Are the eggheads suggesting the computers once housed an AI?"
"Maybe, we can't be sure." Admiral Hackett replied. "It would not make sense to put an AI in charge of a mine. Likely it was a very complex VI. But I don't think I need to remind you that a VI can easily become an AI with the right additions to its programming."
Shepard had to restrain her reaction as a singularly scary thought occurred to her. Was Harbinger looking for others of its kind? Nazara was out there. It was aware of the existence of Harbinger. It would not do if the two did get together.
"The machinery is otherwise unsalvageable. The quantum core took the brunt of the water damage." Hackett finished.
"I don't like this. I really don't." Shepard murmured. "The technology is too specific… Harbinger is gathering remnants of Prothean tech for a reason, but what is it? What is the end-game here?" She was fully aware that she had started to ramble right then, but this was how she did some of her best thinking.
"We have no way of knowing, Commander. I looked over what you sent me. The FKR? The Protheans would have had to be even more advanced than we assume if they could stabilize structures in that region. You are right to think that taking the fight to them is our only choice. Unfortunately, there was no map of the relay network included with any of what we got, not even in the Mars Cache."
"I figured that much, sir," Shepard was glad that the Admiral took her peculiarities in a stride. She was also not surprised that the map did not exist. Fundamentally, if such a map had been found, it would have been used. It was human nature to exploit every available opportunity and advantage, yet thirty years later, they were still groping in the dark.
"I think it would be safe to assume that the Protheans did not give their AIs access to the sum of all their knowledge. This… Harbinger might be looking for ways to fix that. It could very well be looking for something specific." Hackett went on.
Shepard shuddered. Given the level of technology required to stabilize a structure in the FKR, she did not want to think about what other doozies the Protheans must have devised. "On Solcrum Harbinger said something about ending the interregnum. I've learned this from my time associating with synthetics, they are very specific about word usage. When Harbinger used the term interregnum… we have to think about the term's most literal meaning. It is the time between monarchs… and what's a large monarchy? An empire. It wants to end the time between empires. It sees an empire as the right order. It accosted Legion because their people mostly declined being… the chosen ones to benefit from what it sees as a fundamental truth."
The admiral hummed, and for a long moment there was only silence as he mulled it over. Shepard only shifted her weight from foot to foot, and waited.
"How many Heretics are there?"
"That I… don't know, sir." Shepard shook her head. "Legion said that just fifteen percent of the Geth follow Harbinger. Of course Legion also omitted the totals for that figure to mean anything. They're shockingly wily like that." Her mind was already running with possibilities. What could Harbinger be looking for? Was it something that could help it? Empires did not rise from a single event, it had to know that. "I honestly don't know how Harbinger can hope to end this interregnum. Even if the Heretics declare war on the rest of the galaxy… there is no way they could possibly defeat everyone."
The admiral hummed in assent.
Shepard barely heard it. "Unless…" she murmured. "Going after tech and long-forgotten resources and other AI… The Protheans made these AI. What if-" The possibility materialized before her, and its full scope sent a metaphorical bucket of ice-water down her spine. "What if Harbinger is looking for a way of swaying the other eighty-five percent?"
"We best hope that it never finds it, Commander." The admiral said coolly. "On Solcrum they demonstrated just how quickly they, as an AI, can learn from experience. If that machine gets all of the Geth on its side… it would gain the numbers and time advantage on top of everything."
"No pressure, huh?" Shepard murmured. The thought wrapped itself around her heart, gripping it with an icy fist, even as her mind took it to the logical conclusion. If Harbinger ever managed to brainwash the Geth, it would use Legion against her just out of spite and malice. However, that alone was not the worst part. No, the worst was that Legion functioned as a sort of representative of the Geth as a whole, maybe even the expression of their hope for cooperation and peace. Harbinger could turn Legion into the leader of wholesale slaughter. The thought of Legion leading a slaughter was unacceptable. She would not fail a friend so spectacularly. "Harbinger will only get control over all the Geth over my dead body."
The admiral nodded and shifted to lean back into his seat, causing the chair to creak. "I realize this is a lot to ask for, but… I believe your unique connection to the Geth might be just what we need. You are showing everyone that cooperation with artificial intelligence is not only possible, but relatively… dare I say, easy."
"Nothing to it, Admiral, I only treat Legion and EDI as individuals. As far as I'm concerned, the problems start when synthetics are treated as inherently inferior, just because they are built and not born. I will not argue the semantics, they're not important. What's important is that synthetics have a sense of self-worth, and threading on it… they'll defend themselves, same as anyone else." Shepard explained.
"I had a feeling that is your position, since you use the term synthetic rather than artificial." Hackett noted.
"Guilty as charged." Shepard knew how that would come across. There was a synthetic rights movement fighting for synthetics to be seen as beings rather than things, except the masses tended to dismiss it as insane. There was irony in there somewhere. Yet with the amount of contact she had with EDI and Legion, and even Harbinger, she could not deny the fact that they had various degrees of individuality.
"Well, Commander. I can't say if you are right or not. I don't have your experience with AI to fall back on. However… if you think your method can somehow prevent a major incident, if not an outright war, between people and machines… I will not tell you not to do it. Quite frankly, on this matter, I would be perfectly happy if I had to learn something from you."
"Thank you, Sir." As far as she was concerned, there would be no winners in such a war. The losing side would just be the greatest losers. The winning side would have lost a lot for their victory too, and not just in lives and property damage.
"Good. I believe that about covers everything. I will have the information on that pad transmitted to the Normandy. In the meantime, is there anything else you wish to talk about?"
Shepard set the pad on the admiral's desk, but she found herself lingering by the desk, dithering on whether or not now would be a good time to ask for the admiral's advice regarding the situation the Citadel. What was the Alliance's response to the clearly-targeted killings? Did she even want the Admiral to know that she was as paranoid as some said she was? Some part of her wanted to be confirmed as paranoid, as in this instance that would preferable to being proven right. "Yes… and no. It's complicated. Admiral, you must be aware of the murder of Hierarchy Admiral Titus Bellisario on the Citadel."
"Of course I do, Commander. His murder made our delegation position uncomfortably precarious. They were walking on eggshells for the remainder of the event. What of him?" Hackett replied.
"I am… concerned about the details surrounding it."
"And you have a good reason to be concerned, or else you would not have come to me with this. Have a seat, Commander. This will not be a topic to discuss standing."
"Thank you," Shepard moved over to the chair in front of the admiral's desk and perched on the edge. She was hardly comfortable right then, after all, who would be comfortable when it came to these sorts of things? She watched the admiral reached over to the console set into his desk and tapped a command. There was a beep from the ceiling, indicating that the security protocols had engaged. "I guess I best start from the beginning…" She muttered.
"Please do."
Shepard nodded, took a deep breath to anchor herself, and launched into the narrative. There was much to explain. Starting from the death of Sparatus' former secretary. In the back of her mind she knew that the admiral would ask why she thought the killings were connected, and then why the former secretary. Talking about what happened after Eden Prime only compounded on the amount of discomfort she felt right then. Still, once she started, she could not stop. This had been a long time coming, and now it was important to lay out the truth. Ultimately now that the former secretary was dead, if anyone raised a fuss about his security lapse, it would only make that individual look worse. Add to that, Admiral Hackett was not Ambassador Udina. Thankfully he also did not interrupt her at all for the whole long explanation. Still, she watched as his posture changed. The admiral leaned into the back of his seat, elbows on his arm rests, fingers woven together in front of him as he listened. Then, when she got to the conclusion, laying out her own pet theory regarding the leak within Alliance circles, the admiral's eyes actually darkened, as if reflecting a storm brewing on the horizon.
"Admiral, I… only know that the leak is not from your office, nor from my mother, or Captain Anderson." She finished. Laying things out like this had calmed her. This was her territory, a discussion of theoretical possibilities and probabilities.
"Indeed." The Admiral's gaze was locked on a point somewhere above and behind her. "You were right to hesitate to come forward with this. Based on these facts alone, you have no solid proof. Anyone else would have disregarded it all as paranoia. Add to that you have no way of knowing who is not involved."
Shepard nodded numbly.
"I admit even I'm wary of jumping into conclusions. My question is motive, Commander. Who would benefit from framing you?"
Ah, of course. Without a strong motive, the idea that anyone would go to these lengths to frame her was indeed a tad silly. As it happened, she knew someone with a motive. "I can think of both a person and a group. The person, Armistan Banes… works for the group, Cerberus. Rear Admiral Kahoku did not die of an accident, Admiral. That was on my report. I know he was on their trail, and they removed him. What more, his men, those who thought they found Banes… they were lured onto that thresher maw nest… and then we have Banes himself. He's not actually dead. I have video of him very much alive and kicking, and he's leading some project Cerberus call Cadmus. What more I found a connection between Banes and the laboratory on Noveria. The head researcher on Peak Fifteen was in communication with Banes. She outright mentioned Cadmus by name, and was told never to do it again. I know all that, and Banes knows that I know. Thus I'm a problem, and there's the motive. There is no need to argue whether he has the methods. As for opportunity… well, those tend to present themselves."
"Yes… this much circumstantial evidence is beyond mere coincidence. But it is not the sort of evidence that will stand up in court. We have a body that was DNA-matched to Banes. You go after him, and any defense lawyer worth his salt will exploit that. They only need reasonable doubt and to pay the right people. You will never win. They will only prove that you have bought into that crazy conspiracy theory. Need I remind you of the type that normally shout about Cerberus?"
Shepard shook her head. She knew the admiral was right in his summation. Cerberus had a suit of armor made of pure hardened incredulity. "Unfortunately, I am aware of that problem. May I be blunt and off the record, Admiral?"
"Permission granted, none of what you say will leave this room."
Shepard leaned back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap. "I've largely dismissed the idea that I could ever successfully use the legal system for this. I think Cerberus rather likes to be that phantom no one wants to take seriously. That said… if anyone comes after me, they're going to be facing me, my crew, and carte blanche Spectre-grade legal immunity. Nihlus knows about all of this, and he'll have my back."
"Good," the admiral flashed a faint smile, "Because I was going to tell you that I wouldn't be able to help you. That said, since we are off the record… if Cerberus does come after you, you have my personal permission to send them to hell, by whatever means necessary."
Shepard sighed, that single thing took a sizeable chunk out of the metaphorical rock that was on her chest. There was something to be said about being believed by one's superiors. "Another unfortunate part is that if I'm right, and they are trying to frame me… it's not a bad job. There is a flaw to the whole scheme, but only a specialist like myself might be able to see it. Basically, the assassin resembles me, and uses the same weapons. The only discrepancy is in the caliber of skill… she killed Bellisario at short range, shooting through his hotel window, likely with an AMR-spec IR-scoped Mantis. That's the stuff of Hollywood thrillers. It is not the expertise of a sniper specialist. Quite frankly sir, we're deadliest at long range, and that's where we like to be. Furthermore, if she's not using that inherent advantage, she's not a specialist. That means she can't possibly be me."
"Yes, and indeed only another sniper could see that." Hackett hummed.
Shepard nodded, "That said… there is still something going for me. The C-sec investigator in charge of the murders is Senior Detective Castis Vakarian."
"Vakarian? Any relation to your ordnance officer?" The admiral asked.
"Indeed. Garrus told me that his father is a bit of a legend. No one will ever bribe him, and if Cerberus even try… he'll know that someone out there wants me to be guilty." As much as it rankled her, she knew that if it came down to things, Garrus' father was the best she could get.
"Fortunate indeed."
Shepard would not mention the singed bridge between her and the senior detective. Nor the fact that Saren might be in the picture. She had very real blackmail on Saren. She was not naïve enough to think that he would ever forgive or forget. What more, Saren was an underhanded snake if given an opportunity. This was an opportunity. He could just help Castis Vakarian build a case against her, and he would get away with it too. "There is just one last detail. It should not be overlooked. If Cerberus is framing me, they seem to know quite a bit. Things go back to that leak. I am an N7, my file has more redactions than open text. They have access to it."
The stormy look returned as the admiral leaned back in his seat, elbows on the armrest, fingers steepled. "If you are right… things fit what I have suspected for a while."
Shepard straightened in her seat as if it had just given her an electric shock.
"Surprised, Commander? I didn't think I could catch you unaware like that. You are not the first person who noticed the signs of shadowy involvement. Whispers of Cerberus have been cropping up regularly enough over the last twenty-five years. An event like the FCW cannot happen without spurring the zealous radicals to organize. Terra Firma are the unsubtle masses, and so they are in the open. The smarter, dangerous ones will remain hidden. That is human nature."
"Touché," Shepard murmured as she slumped back in her seat.
"They will have multiple sympathizers within the Alliance, however there is only one place where an agent could have access to highly classified material. The Intelligence Bureau."
"The ANIB?!" Shepard repeated as her jaw loosened. If the Admiral was right this went quite a way up. The Alliance Naval Intelligence Bureau was headed by an undersecretary to the Parliament's Minister of Defense, and staffed by a small army of strictly vetted analysts. Rumor went that to become ANIB one needed an above-Mensa IQ, no social life, and an internalized nihilistic outlook. Some even called ANIB analysts "human computers". Their job was to collate, analyze, and make sense of staggering quantities of raw data. The major goal was to ensure security, but their ability to note patterns and shifts in enemy tactics and equipment could also spur changes in the Alliance Navy's operational protocols, tactics, and even fleet composition.
"It fits the nature of the leak. You've provided them with lots of new data, so showing interest in whatever your name is attached to will not raise suspicions."
"Figuring out who it is will not be easy." Shepard doubted she could do anything to make the agent reveal themselves. The mole would have been vetted, and registered as clean, and what more they fit in with all the other analysts, IQ and all. What aberration could she hope to spot like that? "Cerberus wouldn't risk burning that agent. They're too valuable, and the incident would tighten security. What more, it would invite scrutiny that won't be easily dismissed. This mole wouldn't be the typical strung-out sociopathic agenda killer shouting about some manifesto as he's man-handled by security. No, this rat is going to remain it its hole."
The admiral nodded, "Worst of all, even if the Bureau launches its own internal security review, you and I both know they will not find the leaker. It will only tell Cerberus that we know. No, it is best to court their arrogance, let them think we are oblivious. Needless to say, keep this confined to those you trust most."
Shepard nodded, there was nothing she could or would add to that.
"Also, correct me if I am wrong, but based on my understanding of your partnership with Spectre Kryik, he allows you to act as a Spectre in everything but name. Some within the Alliance will see that as superseding everything, and they will not be happy if you decide to bully them into compliance. I caution you to tread lightly. I will continue to do what I can, and update you, should I find anything."
"Understood, Sir." Shepard said. That was the best outcome she could reasonably expect, though not the one she would have liked. She would take the Admiral's warning against ham-fisted actions to heart. What more, she realized that this turn of the conversation signaled that the admiral considered this matter settled. Shepard knew that she ought to have raised the topic of her crew's just rewards for services dully rendered on X57, but it seemed like now would not be a good time. She would write some official letters, that way things would look nice and legal on paper. Those letters would also obfuscate the real reason for such a long meeting.
"Alright. Unless there is nothing else, you are free to leave, Commander."
Shepard dully rose to her feet even as the admiral reached toward his desk console, and a moment later the single beep from the computer announced that the room was no longer securely locked and soundproofed. Shepard snapped to attention and saluted. The admiral nodded. She made an about turn and walked out of the office.
Kaidan and Ashley rose to their feet when they heard the door open. Shepard nodded to them and smiled, the picture of casual ease. "Sorry, took a little bit longer than initially planned. Those damned PR vampires, they want me on a poster again, as if the reporters are not enough." She would pretend that the admiral had wanted to discuss the trivialities and the report, not that they had been talking about a conspiracy of increasing proportions behind closed doors.
"It's not a problem, Commander." Kaidan replied, just as calmly.
"I assume we have some leave time, yes?" Kaidan wondered.
"As far as I'm aware, yes. I think everyone by now should know my golden rule for leave rotations. People with previous last leave, have first leave now. That said, I need to ask Adams if we need to top up the antimatter tanks. We are in the right place and we have some time." It was her typical act, appear daffy and talk inconsequential things.
"Sounds like a plan." Kaidan said.
Shepard nodded and moved toward the door leading out of the office. She stopped at the doorway to and glanced back, "Have a good day, Claudia."
"You too Commander," The secretary replied calmly.
Shepard turned around and triggered the door, maybe she was over-acting a little, but it would work out in the end. She exited the office and turned toward the elevator.
Shepard found herself getting lost in her own thoughts on the way back to the Normandy. Her mind positively whirled with and endless stream of possibilities and options, like clips of film in a montage. She would pause here and there to analyze one, only to discard it as unfeasible a few moments later. She was so distracted that Kaidan and Ashley held a whole conversation around her, and she did not hear more than a few words of what was said.
She was already in the airlock before she managed to put those thoughts aside. Her mind had not found a single possibility or option that stood a chance of getting her what she wanted. The fact remained that she simply did not hold the winning hand at the moment. The Admiral had been right to tell her to tread lightly.
Once past the airlock she paused only long enough to warn Joker about the potential trip to the fuel depot before she made her way down to engineering to talk to Adams. It was not a long conversation at all. Adams only needed to glance at a few read-outs to tell her that the Normandy had used up about thirty percent of its antimatter since last top-up. After that, since they were already in place, he agreed that it would be a good idea to top up. That was added to the ship's schedule, pending her final decision regarding when they would actually do it.
In half an hour Shepard was in the OD and at work. The leave rotations were decided, with EDI able to tell her exactly who had last leave last time, so they would get first leave now. After that, she rotated the other two thirds of the crew a little and called it even. With that out of the way she turned to the official letters. It all served to get her mind off the worst problems, while simultaneously giving her the sense of having done something. Anything was better than worrying and fretting over the Cerberus problem.
The letters were important, she did not want to forget about her team. As far as she was concerned, they were as much heroes as her, and the Alliance should give them their dues. Jenkins was in all likelihood due for a pay-grade bump. He had come quite far from being the overeager but inexperienced corporal. She had watched him osmose experience from everyone around him, and Ashley invested quite a bit of energy into his training on top. It was high time he reaped the benefits.
Then there was Ashley herself, the most over-trained gunnery sergeant Shepard had ever met. It was quite pathetic how the brass was hard-capping her. With her file and stack of commendations from previous superior officers, she should have been promoted long ago. Instead all those commanding officers lauded her greatness, yet bounced her around, as if they felt guilty about being unwilling to stick their necks out. Shepard was not going to be one of those. She was of the opinion that Ashley could even go into the ICT if she wanted. She was certainly the right sort of stubborn to succeed in the ICT. The matter now stood on whether or not X57 could make the brass stop acting like brats. Ashley helped save millions of lives, she deserved better than she got.
Of course there was also Kaidan. In many ways he was the most difficult case. He was clearly avoiding major command, or being the center of attention. He was probably happy enough to be serving under her, despite the fact that he was two or three years her senior. So, would he want her to buoy him up? It would not do for him to remain in his current rank right up until retirement. There was also the question of if the Alliance would even let him retire. He was one of the oldest biotics, and very experienced at that. If he no longer wanted to be out in the field, the Alliance would probably push him into teaching. Kaidan could easily become their poster-boy for biotic potential. He was well-adjusted, with a clean service record, and no bad habits or mental conditions. He was literally holding himself back. So would he resent her if she tweaked things, and forced the brass to recognize him?
She was so distracted with pondering the idiosyncrasies of her marines that she missed the sound of the OD door opening. It was only when a turian-shaped shadow fell over her desk that Shepard snapped out of her thoughts and back to reality. "Nihlus," she greeted calmly.
The Spectre hummed low in his throat, "I heard someone say that you looked ill. Did something happen?"
Shepard looked up as her eyebrow rose. Someone said she looked ill? Then she realized that this was Nihlus, a turian, and it was vaguely possible that he misunderstood or got a mistranslation of some turn of phrase. "I'm alright. Just… maybe a little less than happy. For a good reason. You remember that one reporter who tried to make me look bad before?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, she brightened our metaphorical doorstep again. I swear, I'm still waiting for her to think of pitching a tent right in front of the airlock. Anyways… I had to make her look like a jabbering idiot again."
"That could not have been difficult," Nihlus deadpanned.
"It was still unpleasant, and I could've done without. Then I had a long talk with Admiral Hackett about everything. Including our… Cerberus problem."
"Oh?" Nihlus stepped around, leaning his weight on the desk as he turned to face her. "Did he have something for us?"
"Yes… and no." Shepard replied. She would rather not talk about it, but she could not just tell Nihlus that much. "We talked about what the Alliance had on the Heretics. The Admiral promised me some data on what the Alliance got off those ruined machines on Daiwi. So yes, that is something, and we can talk about it when I have the data. As for the Cerberus problem… we have nothing. It was mostly a discussion regarding the obvious, strictly theoretical at that. Cerberus simply know too much, so they have people on the inside, but we can't point any fingers. It's not like they wear tee-shirts with 'I heart Cerberus' stenciled on them."
Nihlus hummed, "I do not know what you mean with that tee-shirt thing, but I do know that those types never make catching them easy."
"So there. As for the tee-shirts… it's a stupid old thing, forget I even said it." Shepard would bet that he would probably look it up on the extranet the next time he was bored. At that moment her terminal beeped, and she automatically glanced at the screen, entirely unsurprised to see that a data package had filtered through EDI's security protocols. Nihlus' timing was impeccable as always. "Speaking of the devil," she muttered. "Here's the data package. Let me put it on a pad." She reached toward the stack of empties on her right. "Thank you, EDI." She added
"You are welcome, Commander," The AI replied.
Out of the corner of her eye Shepard saw Nihlus move toward the couch.
"Commander, may I access the data myself? I have some interest in matters pertaining Harbinger." EDI added.
"Go ahead, EDI. Standard security considerations apply."
"Of course, Commander. Thank you." The AI sounded happy.
Shepard copied the data onto the first pad, and then reached for a second. In a matter of two more minutes she had both, so she got up, made her way to the couch, and sat next to Nihlus.
"Here," she offered one of the pads. "I really did not get a chance to look at it in detail. Right now EDI probably knows more than I do."
"I have finished reviewing the report, yes," EDI said.
Shepard grinned at the ceiling, "No spoilers, EDI. Basically the salient point is that… the computers on Daiwi likely contained a highly advanced VI, maybe even an AI."
"Naturally the first assumption would be that Harbinger is looking for others like it," Nihlus stated.
"Maybe. Or Just the data in their databases. Either way, it does not bode well." To say the least, considering there was at least one other Prothean AI out there. What sort of data did Nazara have? Would it join forces with Harbinger? Would it share whatever it had? Could the two of them even get along?
Nihlus hummed, "There is more to this that you are telling me."
Shepard shook her head, utterly unsurprised that he was once again reading her like she was an open book in his language. Sometimes she found that somewhat annoying, because she had worked rather hard to cultivate a practiced air of perpetual calm. Still, it was just the norm, they were on about the same wavelength. She shook her head again and launched into a recap of her conversation with Admiral Hackett, and it took her a good ten minutes to finish that. Nihlus had by then leaned back into the couch and her only indication that he was still listening were his low-pitched rumbling hums.
"I can see your concern." He said after a long silence.
"This is indeed concerning, Spectre Kryik," EDI echoed.
"Yes, it berated Legion for not accepting what it was offering, and yes, it makes sense why it would want to end the interregnum, and that it would need the entire Geth Collective to do so…" Nihlus began. Then he hummed, "But Harbinger would be a fool to reveal the entirety of its thinking. There is more to this."
"Unfortunately my data is inadequate for speculation on the nature of Harbinger's real motive." EDI stated calmly.
"Rhetorical statement, EDI. I do not think anyone knows what that motive is." Nihlus replied ruefully. "All we know that there is a motive."
"We'll find out eventually..." Shepard said blandly, "and probably at the worst possible time." That was how things often went.
Shepard felt the faintest touch of Nihlus' fingers on her right shoulder. His long arm was probably slung over the back of the couch again. "Hackett is on your side. That is what matters. If there is something he can do to help, it will be done."
Shepard thought she heard something rather peculiar in his tone, a faint little tinge of envy. She looked up and met his gaze. "Yea. I'm lucky that way." Considering what she knew about Nihlus' family, it was not all the strange for him to envy what she had a little bit. He had to work his way up without any help or real support, which toughened up his exterior. At the same time he was unflinchingly and blindingly loyal to those he allowed into his inner circle. There had to be a reason for that. Some part of him must have been lonely, which manifested in that loyal streak under his prickly prideful exterior. She wanted to say something right then, but Nihlus kept his family affairs secret for a reason. He would not want EDI overhearing things.
Instead of saying anything, Shepard slumped into the back of the couch with a melodramatic sigh that would have worked on some needlessly convoluted soap opera. His fingers slipped over her shoulder, and then his whole hand hung there. The touch was ultimately innocent, but the position she was in right now, it would not take much to slide a few centimeters to her left and end up half-hugging him. The thought was appealing, but Shepard knew the limits of what could be done with anyone watching them. She had never been one to indulge in impulse, and she would not start now. Instead she turned her head and gave him a smile, "Enough. I don't want to think about it anymore. It's not going to help. We're on Arcturus, I told Adams that we will top up the anti-matter while we're here, and the Admiral is in no rush to send us after anything. I still need to finish some rather important letters. I want to stop thinking about Harbinger and Cerberus for the time being."
"Is there something I can do?" he asked, his tone deepening into a full on rumble.
This close she could just hear the upper registers of his sub-vocals, just on the threshold between audible and not. She really was developing an inordinate fondness for that rumble. It always seemed to send a pleasant ripple of energy right down her spine. Furthermore, there was no mistaking the feeling for anything other than what it was. Somewhere along the line she had begun to feel attracted to Nihlus. At times it felt like they were the two poles of a single magnet, with a powerful field arcing between them. She knew she could rely on him to be there for her. However, most importantly, she knew she could rely on him to understand. All considering, it made sense why she was attracted to someone like him. It was just the grandest joke of the cosmos that even if the Alliance rules did not apply, there were other considerations to think about. She would not disgrace herself by allowing anyone to say that she became the first human Spectre through something untoward. Her pride would not allow her to give people that satisfaction. She reached up and put her hand over his. "You don't need to do anything to help. This is good enough."
Meanwhile…
She emerged out of her tiny bathroom clad in a soft robe, toweling her hair dry. The only light in her micro-apartment was the single fixture in the living room. The blackout curtains were drawn shut, banishing the nebula's soft glow. She thought she heard her communicator start beeping some minutes ago, and now she knew that indeed there was a soft beeping from the shelf over her bed. It effectively derailed the calm tranquility of the evening.
She let the towel drop around her neck, made her way toward the bed, raised her hand to the box and placed her thumb on the biometric reader, "System, run biometric verification. Authorization code epsilon kappa alpha tau eta."
"Biometrics confirmed, authorization accepted… Connecting." The VI replied blandly.
There was a brief scratch of static as the QEC synchronized.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were out having some fun, Jezebel." A male voice drawled. There was more irritation than amusement in his tone.
Had no one told him to mind his tone? That told her enough about his mood. Mister King was feeling hostile tonight. Someone had probably stepped on his haughty tail. She smiled, enjoying the benefits of having a sound-only communication device.
"My apologies, Sir. I was in the shower." She replied just as blandly. A token apology was all he would get from her.
"No matter. I am sure you know why I am calling you."
"Who is my next target?" There was no need to mince words.
"Patience, Jezebel. It will not do to discuss the matter where you might be overheard. You will find a data package at dead drop phi three. Scout your openings, but do not act until I contact you again. Is that clear? Timing is important."
"Understood, Sir." She replied. Something was definitely going on, because this was the first time her timing was not part of the package. The secretary had been easy enough to get rid of, pick up the package, and everything she needed was there. The admiral had been a matter of being in the right place, setting up the provided gear, and waiting for the target to show up. This was different from both of those.
"One more thing, Jezebel… The good doctor would like to know how you are faring."
"Nothing abnormal to report. I will leave the diagnostic data from my amp at the dead-drop, as usual." Their concern would have been appreciated, if it had been at all genuine. She knew they only wanted to know if the hardware implanted in her was operating correctly. It was beginning to annoy her. The report was always the same, the amp continued to work as promised. Admittedly her biotics were not getting any stronger, but that had never been explicitly promised, just a maybe.
"No headaches? No peculiar dreams?"
"Nothing of the sort." The reply had be automatic, but she noted the aberration. Headaches and peculiar dreams? That was new, and it sounded awfully specific.
"Excellent. You have twelve hours to pick up the data. I will contact you again when the time comes. Do not dally, Jezebel."
"Understood, sir."
The QEC box gave another scratch of static, indicating that the link had been severed from the other side. She raised the towel to her hair and started rubbing again. What was she to make of all that? Mister King's behavior was irritated and extra dodgy. He would not even drop the name of her target over a QEC. From that she could infer it was likely someone even more important than the admiral. Who could be even higher profile than that? Why would they be visiting the Citadel? Then there were the extra questions. Something just was not right, some part said that they expected something weird to be happening to her. Or had they snuck anything into the amp? It clearly was not working as intended, and now she knew to be on the watch for it. Well, seeing as she did not have anything to do this evening, she would go and retrieve the data package.
Elsewhere…
He turned the communicator off and leaned back in his seat as he looked up at the other man in the room and just waited. He knew the look would be taken as an unspoken question, and it would irritate the black-haired Asian man, as he hated to be questioned, and doubly hated being unable to do anything about it. Really, Kai Leng was a brat, and that was all the reason one needed to goad him.
"She won't succeed. The Executor is not a half-drunk bureaucrat, or an old fossil whose highest achievement was starting a war with a button press," Leng stated, derision dripping off his tone.
"Your opinion has been noted. Now go and tell The Illusive Man that the mission has moved into the next phase. This will end when the Normandy docks on the Citadel." He stated calmly, fully aware that Leng hated being the gopher too.
"One day, Charles, the Illusive Man will realize that you've wasted Cerberus resources. If Shepard is such a big problem, the most efficient way to handle her is my way."
Charles raised his hand toward the decanter of brandy on the side-board, and a biotic field materialized around the glass. A flick of the fingers pulled it in, allowing him to pluck it out of the air. He allowed the liquid inside to settle as he spared Leng an intentionally bored look. He would not argue rationales with the jealous hired gun.
Predictably the assassin's anger spiked a notch by the second, not that Charles was at all threatened, just amused. Leng was all bark, he would not knowingly pick a fight with an L2 Adept. Charles could knock him out with ease, and kill him even easier. Being the Illusive Man's favorite would not help him. The Illusive man would not be pleased, yes, but it would be a temporary thing. Banes was only a few months away from solving their personnel problem, and there were plenty of other maniacs out there who would kill on command and not ask questions.
"Fine. I will tell the Illusive Man that you've informed your doll as requested."
Charles nodded. Then he got the pleasure of watching the Illusive Man's pompous attack mutt bristle as he opened the door and exited the room. Charles took a generous sip of his brandy and let the alcohol burn all the way down. Really, Kai Leng ought not to make it obvious that he saw Cadmus and Jezebel as a threat to his position. If he was indeed Cerberus' number one assassin, and The Illusive Man's favorite, he ought to know his job was secure. But a poorly-trained dog will always growl at everything that is strange to it. He was also not bright enough to see that his involvement could not hope to get Cerberus what they wanted.
Yes the Illusive Man wanted to get rid of Shepard, but there was more to it. The right gambit could achieve multiple goals, and Jezebel was that sort of gambit. With a little more planted evidence Shepard would become an embarrassment, a category-six dishonorable discharge in prison. A sweet irony there, since she would be no better than those whom she loved to condemn. If Leng killed her, she would become a martyr. Cerberus did not need that. Jezebel would ruin her, and even the Titanium Lady would not walk away unscathed. Hackett would not be able to protect her, nor deny that he was wrong. The Shepard cult of personality would scatter.
After that, it would be a simple matter to push the right people to take the Normandy out of the Fifth Fleet altogether. Hackett had thrown a wrench into their plan, they would not let him do it again. The Fifth Fleet's Triumvirate would go down with their ship.
Author Notes: I realize this is a little bit late, the holidays put me a little off schedule, much to do, little time to do it in. The final "scene" also required some reviewing, I wanted to make sure that I got Kai Leng somewhat right.
General Notes:
Episode Title – The term comes from chess. Hackett is playing a dangerous game and Shepard is just a piece on the board. There's the other shoe, so to speak. He has reasons to be letting her get away with so much.
Chapter Notes:
Nothing this time…