Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: The Roman Arc is moving towards its conclusion, with lots of shenanigans all around. Please enjoy!
Episode 56: Pompey and the Senate [Part I]
Meanwhile, First Fleet Head Office…
Ines Lindholm was angry, furious even, and it took her everything she had not to show it. It was rare that something got her this worked up, but Lieutenant Commander Jocelyn Shepard was beginning to develop a real knack for it. And worst of all, she had the devil's own luck, because how else could anyone explain this situation?
"Are you sure?" she demanded.
"Yes ma'am." The security officer replied, shifting in his seat another time. "As I said, I saw it across multiple cameras. The two turians who serve aboard the Normandy met with another on the Normandy's gangway, and then the three of them walked all the way to the Hierarchy delegation ship, and stepped aboard." He went on, repeating himself almost word for word.
Ines took a deep breath she hoped would keep her from exploding on the blond, blue-eyed fool on the other end of the call. How was someone so clearly oblivious working in dock security? Where were they finding these children these days? Sure they could get a commission, but it was increasingly apparent that commissions came out of vending machines. "And do tell me, Lieutenant, what part of my request that I be notified immediately did you not understand?"
"Ah… I am sorry about that ma'am. It was a bit of an unusual request, they sure weren't doing anything other than walking and talking. If anyone suspected them of anything, we weren't told, and we sure weren't going to detain them." Then he froze and looked down at something. "Wait… should we have detained them?"
Ines stared him in the eye over the vid screen, trying her best not to show how much she loathed him right then. Truly this one was a new low. The fool was jumping to conclusions. Ines would not trust them with that task even if they were the last security officers on Arcturus Station. While there was no way they could have been oblivious enough to overlook Shepard if they literally tripped on her, Shepard could talk fast. Failing that, her pet Spectre would only need mention his status, and security would have backed down. They also could not be told to keep their mouth shut about where the order to detain Hierarchy personnel had come from.
No, Ines could not trust them with something that delicate. The order to keep an eye on the Normandy was unorthodox enough, but not incriminating on its own. "No. I asked you to notify me of comings and goings from that glorified pleasure yacht. You're doing that. Continue at it, and let me know if anyone else comes and goes. This time, in a timely manner, Lieutenant," It was pointless, the damage was done, but this way at least she could explain the order away if anyone asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I do apologize for the misunderstanding."
Ines did not reply as she reached to tap a key to end the video call. She could not be bothered with the pleasantries when her plan buckled like this, precisely at its weakest link, by the actions of one idiot. It had been a precaution to avoid leaving her fingerprints in the duty roster logs by assigning her own shift, she thought she could trust security for one little thing, which would free up her few trustworthy agents to intercept Shepard.
The plan was absolutely elementary. Her agents would have met with the group, and under the guise of providing security, "accidently" expose the upstart red-handed, in armor, cloaked, aboard Arcturus Station, trailing behind a Hierarchy soldier, in possession of something absolutely damning. Shepard would not have explained that to people who would not fall prey to her charisma, who had an actual intellect, and who did not give a damn about her status. However, security had messed it all up, the evidence was now gone, with no way to prove that it had ever been there in the first place.
Mikhailovich had told her that Hackett sent an encrypted data burst to the Normandy after his meeting with Shepard, using the QEC equipment no less. It was slower, but there was no way to tell what the burst contained, which was telling on its own. A cursory look at the communication logs revealed that Hackett used the QEC relatively rarely, and only when the situation obviously called for it. This instance however, the situation did not call for it. The Normandy was on Arcturus Station, there was no excuse. Hackett must have sent something he did not want to appear on the logs.
There was only one thing that would necessitate such secrecy. Hackett likely gave Shepard exactly what she needed to intercede with the Hierarchy behind their backs. Ines knew full well that the whole situation with the Thanix was hardly something to go to war over. The Turians would get upset, but there was little they could do past blustering. The issue was not even Shepard being in possession of said documents. Strictly speaking she had the clearance to see that material. No, the issue was that Shepard had no right to ferry them to the turians, it was above her rank privilege.
Ines sincerely wished she could revoke that idiot lieutenant's commission. Because of him Shepard might just come out of this smelling rosy. When the turians finally backed down, she would claim a personal victory. There was no way Ines could argue the breach of protocol and security when most would be spinelessly glad to have avoided a confrontation with the turians. Doubly so after those murders on the Citadel. Then, if Shepard convinced them that she was now a sure-in for Spectre, they would rationalize the breaches as something unfortunately necessary, just her doing her job as a Spectre. Someone would call it making an omelet, and the breaches the few broken eggs. Ines would be forced to smile and applaud as Shepard junior had her victory lap and Shepard senior mocked her with a knowing smile.
No, not on her watch. Ines still had some time before those clueless bird-brains became Shepard's unwitting patsies. She needed to make some more calls. All the same, she would give the little rat some credit, watching her play the turians for all they were worth was priceless. Were it not for her being an upstart of the worst sort, Ines might have even admired that.
At the Security Office…
The screen went blank as the video call ended and silence returned, broken only by the low hum of the air filtration system overhead. Leif waited a good five seconds, mostly to rein in his utter dislike for Lindholm, before he turned around to face his companions. Gino was seated at the next console, and Ethan stood by the door, on watch for unexpected surprises. "Took everything I had to keep my face straight. If she's not up to something, I'll resign my commission. Gino, please tell me you managed to record that entire conversation."
"Of course I did. Who do you think I am?" The Italian replied, grinning from ear to ear. "What do you think she's up to?"
"Nothing good. Did you see the look on her face when she realized her request had been delayed? She wanted to know if Shepard left the Normandy. We foiled something. Shepard is going to want to know."
"Any ideas on what it might be?" Gino asked.
"Maybe. Run with me here. We know that Shepard has a cloak, she was probably one step behind Kryik. I was there in the meeting with Hackett, so I know Shepard was supposed to drop off some materials with the primarch. Lindholm looked like she was going to blow my head off for a moment there. Then factor in the timing, and I get the feeling that she knows some of all that."
Gino hummed, "Which raises the question, how does she know some of all that?"
"Yea, that's the question of the hour. Shepard is going to want to know that too." Leif declared.
"Obviously," Gino muttered.
"Now I'm thinking-" Leif paused there as he mentally laid out all the facts. Only a few people knew about that meeting, and could reasonably suspect that something had gone down. "Someone's a no-good snitch." Hackett was definitely out. Leif suspected the admiral loathed Lindholm more than he would allow himself to show. After that, he could only run down the list. He had not snitched, Gino would shoot himself in the other leg before he would betray Shepard, Ethan was too much of a boy scout to snitch on anyone, and Aisha did not know. Kryik was automatically out as well, he would have no motive. That left Claudia, Carrere, and the unexpected pop in, Mikhailovich. Carrere was in the Titanium Lady's inner circle and Claudia had been in said circle before her marriage and baby. "It's got to be Mikhailovich. His arrival was… peculiar, and Hackett keeps him out of the loop for a reason."
"He's still sore about losing the Normandy too." Gino added.
"You really think he'd snitch?" Ethan asked.
"He's the best suspect we got right now," Leif replied. "His actions since the meeting are worth looking into."
"Definitely." Gino agreed.
"Gino, we need to include a letter for Shepard with all that."
"Leave that to me," the Italian replied as he brought up a text program. "I'll have something ready in a few minutes. Better worry about how we are getting it to Shepard."
"Oh, that's easy," Leif replied automatically, then glanced toward the door. "Hey Big Guy, feel like playing courier today?"
Ethan smiled and nodded.
"Good." Leif murmured. They were stuck on this duty shift for another six hours, filling in for the real dock security officers, whose shift was rotated. Hackett's way of ensuring that Shepard had the opportunity to deliver those files. Giving Lindholm a delayed report was laying bait, and it had mostly panned out. Yes, Leif did not get Lindholm to admit anything outright, she was too smart for that sort of lapse, and now she had seen his face, but it was not a total bust.
The major thing was they now knew how long Lindholm's reach was. When Lindholm did not demand to know who he was, it meant that she had not planted any of her own in the works. It was either a rather obvious attempt to hide her involvement by limiting the irregularities, or she did not have half the contacts Hackett had. The only thing Leif regretted, was the size of his role in what was to come. He would have loved to be there when Shepard finally made Lindholm eat crow. Well, they would just have to toss their lady one huge shin-dig, make it her triumph. He liked that thought.
"There, letter all done. I kept it simple." Gino broke the silence. "I'll add it to the OSD with that recording."
"Good," Leif replied.
"So if I'm courier, what's the plan?" Ethan wondered.
"Right. That. I'm thinking this calls for something classic… and classy." Leif grinned as he drew out the moment for dramatic effect. If they were already going to play spy games, might as well play them with style. "Shepard likes that one cake with the puff pastry and cream, the French one, I forget what it's called."
"Mille-feuille," Gino replied blandly, never looking up from his task.
"Yea that. Seriously, Leif, I can't believe you keep forgetting." Ethan added.
Leif shook his head. He knew that he really ought to remember that name, but did they have to crash his fun?
"Kind of not important, Big Guy, what's important is that he better not be thinking of getting it cheap from some grocery store." Gino continued.
"Wait… am I thinking what you're thinking?" Ethan asked.
Leif glanced at the big man by the door, "If you're thinking of eating cake… then no."
"Oh har-har." Ethan murmured.
Leif smiled to himself and brought up his omni-tool. Ethan's sweet tooth was always good for a laugh, besides, turnabout was fair play. Shepard was going to love this scheme. Talk about having cake, and eating it too. Now he just needed to find the right bakery. Gino would never leave him alone unless the cake had the Marconi seal of approval.
"You want the Champs Elysees bakery," Gino muttered. "They're the best, period."
"Sure, alright," Leif replied as he typed the name into his search bar and hit the enter key. He was not even going to argue, literally a waste of his breath, Gino would never yield. As the search program worked he heard the Italian rise and make his way across the room.
"Here, you're going to need to make sure that's in the box." Gino said.
Ethan said nothing.
Leif's omni-tool came back with a single local hit. He tapped for the location code, and then switched over to the short-range text message application, and picked Ethan's ID from his shortcuts. "I got the location code on the place. Flashing it over to your omni now, Big Guy." He copied the code in and hit send.
Ethan's omni-tool chimed with the arrival of a message.
Leif looked up just in time to see him glance down at it, and then turn and slip out of the room.
"We still need to finish this shift before we go after Mikhailovich," Gino said as he moved back toward his seat at the monitoring consoles.
"I better be wrong about him. Because he will not like me if I'm right." Leif muttered.
"Hah! If we find evidence against him, he'll have to deal with Shepard. You can't do half what she will do to him." Gino replied.
Leif grinned, Gino was of course entirely right. The only time a traitor might be safe from Shepard, was if he was standing next to a Batarian and she could only take one shot. Even then, properly incentivized, they knew Shepard would find a way to kill both with one bullet. Then again, she always carried a knife.
Aboard the Hierarchy Delegation Ship…
As the door closed behind Shepard and Kryik, Garrus turned to face the Primarch.
"Spectre Rix, you are dismissed as well."
"As you wish, Primarch," the Spectre replied, bowed, and then turned to make his way toward the door.
Garrus was beginning to get a horrible feeling that Shepard had been right. Maybe he should not have forced her hand to come here. He should have known that the Primarch would want to talk to him. Then, if he thought about it, he could see how this might be something that Kryik wanted too. Maybe, despite all his caution, Garrus had walked right into a trap meant to remove him as an obstacle. Though, if that was how it went, Garrus could still make sure Shepard found out. Kryik would not have a victory without a fight. The door opened and closed behind him as Rix stepped out of the room. Garrus straightened his back.
"Garrus, Castis told me that you worked on the Normandy's Thanix. Please tell me that Castis misunderstood, and that you did not do something so stupid."
"I would have to lie to you, Primarch. I worked on the Normandy's Thanix." Garrus replied.
"Did the Commander order you to do it?"
"Absolutely not, Primarch. In fact, she made all attempts to dissuade me. I insisted."
The primarch's subvocals began to rumble with his incredulity and then his dismay.
Garrus knew where it was coming from, it was such an unexpected thing, but no less than true. "I chose to optimize the system as a favor to Shepard, not the Alliance. When she was arrested on the Citadel I restored the guns to their Alliance configuration. Should Shepard lose command of the Normandy, the Alliance will not benefit from my improvements." Maybe that would not matter, but it had to be said.
"And what are those improvements, exactly?" Fedorian asked, his subvocals quieting.
Garrus tried not to fidget. "The Alliance engineers replicated the physical system, but not the VI we use to regulate and correct misalignments. Then they made everything worse by making the system fire much hotter than ours do. Bluntly put, Primarch, the system requires frequent calibration and a lot of power. I optimized the power draw, and I calibrate them to maintain optimal combat readiness."
"So you did not tell them about the VI, nor attempted to recreate one?"
"No, Primarch. I… substituted the VI with manual work." Garrus replied. He was sure that if need be, EDI could easily do the same work, but the Alliance had restricted her to sensors and communications only. Then, even if the Alliance gave EDI access to the system, it would take an AI a while to learn all the intricacies. He had an advantage, having learned from an engineer who had worked with various Thanix configurations for twenty years. Finally, Shepard made him her ordnance officer, those guns were his domain. No AI would be calibrating them as long as he was alive, that was a matter of personal pride.
"I see." The primarch hummed. "I hope you appreciate the position I find myself in. As an individual I can understand -even commend- your dedication to your superior officer, regardless of who she might be. But as the Primarch of Palaven, I am concerned for the security of one of our strategical advantages. I will not be the Primarch who allows the Alliance to mount those guns on every ship with impunity."
"Well, I doubt they would do that, Primarch. By what I understand, the Normandy came with a price tag… the Alliance cannot afford a lot of ships like it. Each of the components within has to be sourced at profit to the suppliers. Their manufacturing chain is unregulated and inefficient."
"But you cannot be certain of that." The primarch argued. "Tell me, did you take precautions? What is preventing them from obtaining your optimizations without your knowledge?"
From a cold, strictly logical stand-point, Garrus knew the Primarch was asking a perfectly legitimate question, but it still rankled him. "The only individuals who know about the modifications are those aboard the Normandy, all of whom are loyal to Shepard. The Commander had every opportunity to relay the configuration to her superiors, but she did not, and I know she never will." He would defend Shepard to the last from those who did not know her, even if it was the Primarch of Palaven himself. "Primarch, if you were to step outside that door right now, you will find Shepard pensive, if not outright pacing. And it will not be because she is worried I will speak a single bad word about her, it will be because she is worried for me. She is always worrying for us. She will never willingly do anything that she thinks would get any of us into trouble."
The primarch hummed, but his subvocals rumbled with his skepticism.
Garrus decided to press on. It took him many long hours of analyzing Shepard's actions and decisions, but he finally understood her. He would not be surprised if Shepard saw worrying as her duty, one that she zealously refused to share. He earnestly wished she would allow him to take some of the burden, but until she did, he would do what he could to clear her path. He cleared his throat, "Shepard is a being of shifting facets. When she said that she was protecting her people on Elysium and over Terra Nova, it was exactly that. Yes, her wrath, when properly incurred, is swift and terrible. She annihilated Balak verbally before slitting his throat. But that righteous fury is never unleashed on someone who does not deserve it. Balak thought to kill millions, and those who came to Elysium would have subjected her people to a fate worse than death."
"No one would condemn the Commander's actions over Terra Nova or on Elysium. As a matter of fact, I have a certain amount of admiration for her skill and daring. I agreed to meet her in part because of that." The Primarch said. "And you may tell her I said that." His subvocals gave a single note of pure amusement.
"I am sure she will be honored, Primarch." Garrus replied. Shepard was respectful and polite to everyone, even the likes of Saren. The moment she heard that the Primarch admired something she did, she would probably redden with embarrassment. "Her skill is matched by benevolence. The Commander is capable of mercy, pity, and forgiveness, even to those who slight her. My father may have mentioned that we found the female who framed Shepard. She was murdered by those who tasked her to frame Shepard. Yet for all the anger, when looking at her, Shepard saw a victim, and pitied her."
The primarch nodded, gaze unwavering, unblinking, and his subvocals utterly silent.
Garrus could feel an itch forming at the back of his neck, he was out of sorts. He would have never thought that he would ever end up giving the Primarch of Palaven a speech, but there he was, giving the Primarch of Palaven a speech. "However, Shepard's most important facet is the unwavering honesty and honor. They are as consistent as an atomic clock. Earlier, when you asked about Taetrus, she turned to Kryik. That revealed her thinking. Something happened on Taetrus, something they do not talk about. Even I do not know what it is. But that is her honor at work. Shepard sees talking about Taetrus as betraying Kryik's wishes. Those same considerations apply to my work on the Thanix. Shepard will never give the Alliance my alterations. She will never, knowing and willingly, betray me."
"Admirable, but how long would her resistance last should her admiral order her to surrender the data? When her loyalty to you conflicts with her loyalty to her people?"
Garrus had to bite back his reaction. That was a perfectly good question, for anyone else the Primarch would have ended the discussion right then and there. However, Shepard was not anyone else. "That order is… unlikely to ever come. Hackett expects her to perform her duties, but he trusts her judgement and decisions. As a result Shepard enjoys a certain -perhaps inappropriate- degree of leniency." Garrus knew there was no 'perhaps' there, Shepard was one of Hackett's favorites, which meant she had outright undue privilege. "Fact is, Hackett allowed her to build her own team, to bring trusted outsiders aboard the Normandy."
"Ah yes, the quarian and geth."
"And Wrex, the krogan."
"A krogan?" The primarch repeated, his subvocals ringing with surprise.
"One of the last true battlemasters, a tough, centuries-old biotic with a massive shotgun. He is on Tuchanka, taking care of personal matters. Before he departed, he gifted Shepard with a very large knife. I think in Krogan that means he adopted her." Garrus consciously chose to omit his suppositions about that knife. That and the primarch may even know, after talking to his father, that the knife belonged to Shiagur.
The primarch shifted in his chair, causing it to creak audibly beneath him.
Garrus had not meant that to be a surprise, but perhaps he should have anticipated it would be. "Shepard has a way of inspiring loyalty, cooperation, and compromise. There is no better example than Tali and Legion. Some of Tali's first words to Legion were a warning for them stay away from her. Now? They can work together with only a token complaint from Tali, and Legion is- no, has stepped into harm's way for both Tali and Shepard." Garrus would pity the fool who finally managed to do serious damage to Legion in their presence, and then take bets on how long said fool lasted. "Ultimately, the Commander's nature, status, and Hackett's leniency are all a factor." He paused then. The argument sounded weak even to him, and he knew it, but it was the best he had. "I also think that if you asked the Alliance engineers, they would say their guns were better than ours, so no… additional input necessary. Humans can be proud like that."
The primarch sighed, and his subvocals rumbled with resignation. "And am I right to assume that if Shepard has her way, you will restore your modifications?"
"Yes, Primarch. I see no reason to withhold them." Garrus knew that much of what he had just said had to be taken on faith. How did one prove that Shepard was indeed honest to someone who had just met her? It was impossible. His word was the only collateral he could offer.
"You have made your decisions."
"Yes, Primarch." Garrus replied, he knew it was hardly what his father's old friend wanted to hear, but Garrus would not stand there and lie. "I will accept the consequences, but I will not betray Shepard."
The Primarch's subvocals went mute again. "There are too many unknown factors in all of this, I need to think about what I will do-" he announced. "-with you, with her, with this whole situation."
Garrus bowed his head. He would not plead for himself, because his guilt was obvious for all to see. He knew that he had done what no good turian should do. However, he also knew that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he failed to support Shepard. Garrus would take losing a citizenship tier over betraying Shepard. It was not like someone like him ever stood a chance of ascending particularly far up the ranks anyway.
"You may go."
"Thank you, Primarch." Garrus raised his right hand and bowed. Then made an about turn, and moved toward the door.
Meanwhile…
Shepard heard the door swish open and whirled toward it. Garrus had stepped out, his gaze lowered. As soon as the door closed behind him she was at his side. That was when she noticed how tightly his mandibles were pressed up against his jaw. "Garrus…" She had to stop herself from saying what she really wanted to say, "I'm so sorry." Asking about what was going on within the ear-shot of strangers was not a good idea.
He tipped his head ever so slightly, "What for, Commander?"
Nihlus hummed behind her, but said nothing.
Shepard did not need the ability to hear subvocals to understand that Garrus was affecting nonchalance. "Everything." She said, even though she knew better than to discuss the details until they were in private.
"Maybe we should go. This brings back memories of my time in basic, and not the memories I prefer to recall," Nihlus put in. "I rather not stay for long."
Avitus, standing a few meters away, snorted in a vain attempt to conceal his laughter.
"Of course." Shepard glanced back at him, "Wouldn't want to absorb any discipline, or heaven forbid, a work ethic." She intentionally raised an eyebrow for Nihlus to see. She suspected that he said that to pull attention away from her knee-jerk reaction to the sight of Garrus' tortured-looking expression. She wanted him to know that she was just playing up to the opportunity, teasing him, even if her words had some bite of truth.
"You know me too well," Nihlus replied, flashing her his best, toothiest smile.
Shepard took that as message received loud and clear.
Avitus' mandibles were perfectly still and drawn up against his jaw, but his eyes were alight with mirth.
Shepard had a distinct impression that the other Spectre was trying his absolute best to hold back his laughter, metaphorically biting his tongue.
"Shall we?" Nihlus asked, extending his arm in the direction of the elevator they had taken to reach this deck.
"I will… walk you to the airlock," Avitus volunteered.
Shepard nodded, deeming it a reply to them both, and proceeded to lead the way. Avitus fell almost in step next to her, at her pace, attempting to look like he was the one leading them instead. Which relegated Nihlus and Garrus to walk behind them.
They got to within sight of the elevator when Avitus hummed, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "Commander, I do not suppose you would tell me what you are planning, but… I think I can offer you my continued assistance."
"I fulfilled what I set out to do, Spectre Rix. What comes after… is out of my hands." Shepard replied. It was not exactly the truth, but she would not admit to an outsider that she was in fact scheming. She knew she would be meeting Admiral Lindholm and parliamentary representatives, and Lindholm would launch her best assault against her. Nothing would please Shepard more than the ability to look her enemy in the eye, smile, and remind them that she had gotten the Hierarchy to back down at a fraction of the time it would have taken them. Maybe she did not have a lot of misplaced pride, but she did have some, and it was chafing.
"Alright, I can accept that, and if the information you provided is accurate, then I do not foresee any problems. The Primarch will not hold your command against you." Avitus announced as he pressed the button to call the elevator.
Shepard smiled wanly. Sure, Fedorian might not hold her command against her, but Lindholm would.
"I am surprised that you did provide that information. I was under the impression that we should not expect that." Avitus went on.
Shepard smiled wider, "I am full of surprises, Spectre Rix." She would use humor as her refuge. She suspected she knew exactly who thought so highly of her, but she would not point fingers.
Avitus flashed her his toothy smile. "Yes. I am beginning to see that, and I am glad for it."
Nihlus made an indistinct noise that sounded vaguely like a harrumph.
Avitus looked back, but said nothing.
Shepard wondered what nuance she was missing right then. The words seemed friendly enough, and Avitus might just be honest about his offer of continued assistance. Nihlus clearly thought something else. But what? She could not even tell what that noise he made was all about. However, it seemed to have killed the conversation. They took the elevator in silence, and the rest of the walk toward the airlock was likewise mute.
When they stopped in front of the airlock, Avitus was the one to tap at its console to open the door. "I cannot come with you for the return trip. It would break our earlier charade."
"I understand." Shepard replied.
"Also, I will know when the Primarch comes to a decision, as I will report it to the Council. I will let Nihlus know as well."
"Thank you, for everything, Spectre Rix." Shepard replied and bowed her head, call it showing her full gratitude.
"I wish you well, Commander." The Spectre replied.
"Likewise, to you, Spectre Rix," Shepard replied. It felt like an appropriate parting.
"Told you that Rix was half decent," Nihlus muttered as he stepped into the airlock first.
Avitus snorted, "Just half decent? I suppose I cannot possibly be more decent than you, Kryik. Your ego would not withstand that outrage."
Garrus, who had followed Nihlus inside, made a sound that sounded very much like a choked-back snort of laughter.
Shepard thought Nihlus might actually require a medicated salve for that, but chose not to vocalize her opinion as she stepped into the airlock after them.
"One last thing, Commander." Avitus called.
Shepard turned to face him.
"I do not let friends call me 'Spectre Rix'. Just Avitus is fine."
Shepard smiled and nodded. It was official, she rather liked Avitus, inasmuch as one could like someone after meeting them an hour earlier. He was definitely someone she would enjoy working with, if their paths ever crossed once this mess was over. The airlock door began to close.
"Funny, Rix, I distinctly remember Barro once calling you something shorter… and he is your friend too." Nihlus said calmly.
The gap in the door was down to thirty centimeters when Avitus smiled, flashing all his teeth. "Is that a suggestion, Kryik?" He asked.
Nihlus remained silent.
"Thought so," Avitus finished, just as the door shut.
Shepard turned around to face the outer door and the airlock and looked from Nihlus to Garrus. A silence lingered as the airlock began to cycle. "Do I want to know?" She asked.
Nihlus' mandibles began ticking against his chin in agitation.
Garrus was giving the Spectre what could only be described as stink eye.
Then Nihlus sighed, and it was as if the spell was broken. "Rix talks too much," he announced.
Shepard hummed, that was all she would get out of him right then. With the airlock cycling she knew she better vanish, and reached down to activate her cloak. Still, as it settled, she wondered. What had Avitus meant by 'suggestion'? Suggestion of what, exactly? Clearly there was something lost in translation, and it was highly likely that she would never get a straight explanation out of Nihlus.
"So, Shepard, what is our next move?" Nihlus asked.
"That depends," she replied. "The next couple of hours ought to be… interesting."
The hum inside the airlock went silent, and then the outer door began to open, announcing that the time for discussion was over. Shepard slipped out of the door as soon as the opening was comfortably wide enough for her. There was a relatively unpleasant, silent walk ahead of them, and she would rather get it over with.
The return trip to the Normandy was silent. Neither Nihlus nor Garrus would talk to her, because it would expose her. They also did not talk to each other, which was peculiar. Nihlus walked a few steps ahead, and if Shepard squinted, she could almost see a monsoon raincloud over his head. His long strides also allowed him to walk quite fast, to the point that she had to accelerate her pace. Garrus rumbled occasionally, in a distinctly annoyed manner.
Thus it was a colossal relief to reach the Normandy. Once Shepard's feet were technically on board, she allowed herself to sigh with unrestrained relief. Then, when the airlock closed, she hurried to disconnect her cloak. She wanted out of her armor, as soon as possible, so she could do something about the uncomfortable pressure that settled between her shoulder blades. Just lying on her back for twenty minutes ought to do the trick.
As the airlock cycled, Shepard realized that she did not have the luxury for either. She could not kick the unsettling feeling that something was about to go wrong, it had been there ever since she stepped off the Normandy. What more, she knew what brought it about. She could not be sure that her carpet trick worked. The paranoid part of her psyche was nagging at her to expect bad news. The scenarios for how everything could go wrong circled in her head like carrion birds over a dying creature.
As the airlock cycled, and with her mood turning down, Shepard decided that she really could not blame Nihlus for having a monsoon raincloud of his head. She seemed on the verge of developing one of her own.
Two hours later Shepard came down to deck three for lunch. She had carved the time to lie down and let the kink in her back relax while she did routine paperwork. It was not the most efficient way to get that done, hence it took longer, but the discomfort was gone, and she did not need medication. She chalked it up under a win. A good solid meal would now allow her to focus on the more important things.
She found Ashley seated at the officer's table, tinkering with something on her omni-tool. Matthews was stirring two pots simultaneously, and judging by the stacks of large bowls on the counter there was a soup in their futures.
"Hey, Skipper." Ashley called as she turned her omni-tool off.
"Hey, Ashley. Mind if I join you?" Shepard asked.
"Why would I?"
Shepard grinned and sat down across from her.
"I was checking up on the news. The Primarch's arrival on Arcturus is big news," Ashley noted.
"I'm not surprised," Shepard replied. "What are they saying about it?"
"According to the most recent article I've read, representatives from both sides will be meeting this evening." Ashley went on. "All the Alliance News Network has is that… we salvaged some old, forgotten Hierarchy property within our space, years back, and the Hierarchy found out, so they're here to make a fuss about it. Nothing on you, us, the Normandy, or the nature of the hardware was mentioned. They're painting this meeting as one part formality, one part inconvenience."
"I see." Shepard hummed. Obviously ANN were not privy to all the details, whatever source they had would not have told them everything. However, they knew just enough to see the tip of the iceberg. The brass would fight to keep the Normandy in the bag to the last, and as much as a cat could be kept in a bag. Still, they had allowed the media to usher the crowd into the metaphorical circus tent. That was the angle Shepard could work with. If things went her way, a surreptitious dropping of her name, just mentioning that she was involved in the negotiations, and Lindholm would be fighting against her reputation. Who would want to court-martial a hero for negotiating peace? She would need to send Admiral Hackett a message about the possibility of using ANN to their advantage. Assuming the whole thing was not the Admiral's idea to begin with, it seemed awfully convenient to be otherwise. She was also unsurprised that Fedorian wasted no time pushing for a meeting, he seemed like a no-nonsense type who valued his time. She would have loved to be the fly on the wall during that meeting.
"Commander, I am terribly sorry to interrupt your conversation but…" EDI cut in.
"You're never interrupting, EDI." Shepard replied. "What's on your mind?"
"I find myself perplexed. Someone has just delivered what appear to be gifts outside the Command Information Center airlock."
Shepard blinked and glanced at Ashley. Gifts? For whom?
"It's not a bomb, is it?" Ashley asked.
"I do not detect any electromagnetic emissions from the box. I was also able to identify the writing on the box. Champs Elysees. A cursory search indicates that the box comes from a highly-rated bakery here on Arcturus Station. In addition to the box, there is a small flower bouquet."
"Well, well," Ashley broke out into a huge grin, "I believe someone on board has an admirer."
Shepard hummed. "Thanks for telling me, EDI."
"Of course, Commander."
Expensive baked goods and flowers? That was both cheesy and needlessly extravagant. Shepard could hazard a guess as to what was going on. "I'll go pick them up," she said as she rose to her feet and turned toward the elevator.
"I'll come with you, just in case," Ashley volunteered as she got up as well.
Shepard did not protest or refuse the offer. As she rounded the elevator and pressed the call button, the door opened immediately. She stepped on and pressed the button for deck two, perfectly aware that Ashley was a step behind her.
"Commander… it's for you, isn't it?" Ashley asked.
"Probably, but it's not a token from an admirer, it's got to be an obfuscation for a covert hand-over," Shepard replied. The delivery simply could not be from a civilian. Dock security would have gotten involved if the delivery courier was a civilian. If they had not contacted her, then the delivery was done by someone in uniform that they simply let through.
As the elevator door opened on the CIC, Shepard stepped off and tried not to rush across. Fortunately Joker was away from his post right then. Shepard knew she would not live it down if he saw her pick up baked goods and flowers left at their doorstep. Once inside the airlock, she found it rather tricky to contain her fidgeting. She wanted to get at what that hand-over probably contained. When the outer door finally opened, Shepard only needed one glance at the gift to know that she had been right, and she broke into a big smile.
The box was carefully balanced on a viewport windowsill, helped by the fact that it was longer than it was wide. It was white as fresh snow, held shut by gold-foil stickers, and decorated with embossed filigree painted glossy gold, with an ornate swirly cursive 'Champs Elysees' and Eiffel Tower on top. The bouquet, tucked it into the gap between the handrail and the bulkhead, was made up of three purple irises, three white roses, wrapped in translucent gold-hued film, and held together with purple ribbon.
"Oh wow," Ashley breathed.
Shepard carefully pulled the bouquet free. Once it was in her arms she realized that although the flowers were replicas, the petals had the right textures, and there was no wire in sight. These were the expensive sort printed and then hand-refined to be as photo-realistic as possible. A single deep inhale told her that the irises and roses had scents, likely from oils dripped inside them. Furthermore, wrapping around the roses and irises were two branches bearing clusters of tiny white flowers and baby olives. "Oh, those lummoxes..." Shepard could not help but coo as she picked up the box. "I know who sent these. There is no card, but the olive branches might as well be one."
"Olive flowers? That's… a strange choice." Ashley asked as she leaned in to peer inside the bundle.
"They really are. Also impossible to get real." Few station-based florists could afford to keep olive trees in their greenhouses. As for her certainty, she knew the olive tree was sacred to Athena. Who else would think of sending her olive branches other than the individuals who compared her to Athena? "They're from my old ICT team." Shepard explained as she moved back toward the airlock.
"You must have had some team," Ashley said as she stepped back on board and pressed the button to make the airlock cycle.
Shepard nodded her thanks, as right then she had her hands full. "They are something alright. My bet the box contains cake, and it's a horrible pun on the saying 'have your cake and eat it too'. Leif can't help himself with those."
Ashley chuckled, "Sounds like a nice guy."
"The other two had a hand in it too, I can tell." Shepard continued. "Gino is a food snob. He wouldn't want the joke to look cheap. Then Ethan would have thought of the flowers, to add to the authenticity. He would be the courier too." Ethan would have also consciously opted for artificial flowers, which would keep indefinitely. He knew her aversion to frivolities.
"Horrible pun and-or joke or not, that's still sweet," Ashley said.
"It is one of their more… thoughtful ones." Shepard agreed.
The inner airlock door opened with a faint hiss, allowing Shepard to step out. She would be lying if she said her mood had not been instantly lifted. Those three lummoxes had outdone themselves. She made her way back across the CIC, toward the elevator, largely ignoring the raised eyebrows from the crew on duty. There would be rumors, to be sure, but right then, Shepard just did not care. She was the first one aboard the elevator, and once Ashley was inside, managed to press the button for deck three with her pinky.
"Here, I'll hold the flowers for you." Ashley picked up the bouquet.
"Thanks," Shepard replied as the elevator stopped.
When the door opened, they stepped off and Shepard made her way toward the kitchen. In their absence the mess area had filled up considerably as the lunch hour drew near. Three of the afternoon shift crew were there, along with Nihlus, Garrus, Kaidan, Richard, and Joker.
"Hey Shepard, Ashley… wow, fancy box!" Joker greeted. "Wait, box and flowers? Our ladies got themselves admirers, huh?"
"Jealous, Joker?" Ashley fired back, practically laughing.
"No way." Joker protested.
Richard coughed, though Shepard heard a distinct "Liar" buried in there.
"Joker, it is fine to be jealous if no one will send you flowers," Kaidan added.
"Oh, you two suck," Joker grumbled.
"You asked for that one, Moreau," Nihlus added.
"Asked? He begged for it," Garrus agreed.
Richard burst out laughing, loud and exuberant, shortly joined by Ashley.
Shepard ignored them as she set the box on the kitchen counter and grabbed one of the table knives from the cutlery caddy. A quick two flicks slit the golden foil stickers, and she set the knife down before lifting away the lid. Inside were three exquisite-looking slices of mille-feuille spaced apart by dainty golden-hued paper, and taped to the underside of the lid with two more foil stickers was a pastry envelope from the same bakery, with a very obvious OSD inside.
The laughter behind her had died down as she pulled the envelope free. Then, she figured now was the time to cut in. "Cake is nice, but here's the real treat." Shepard announced as she brandished the envelope between her fingers. "And something tells me that it will be even more delicious." She slipped the envelope into her pocket, and then closed the box before moving around the counter toward the levo refrigerator. If all went according to plan, she could very well call her gift victory cake, and it would taste even sweeter.
"Commander, would you like soup now, or after you've looked at what that OSD contains?" Matthews asked.
"Soup now, please. It wouldn't do to have dessert before the meal," Shepard replied.
The cook smiled and reached for the stacked bowls.
It was almost an hour before the group in the mess area finally broke up as people returned to whatever they had been doing. By then, Shepard was quite eager to get a look at the contents of the OSD. Thus when she went up to deck two, she was unsurprised that Nihlus and Garrus followed her. Once seated in front of her terminal, she withdrew the OSD from its makeshift sleeve and slipped it into the reader.
As the contents of the OSD were displayed, Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was some… pricy hand-over for a single video file and a letter… now let's see here," she opened the letter and scanned it as quickly as she could.
"What does it say?" Nihlus said, as he drew near, putting both of his hands on the back of her seat.
Shepard leaned back, "Well it's definitely from Leif and the guys. Apparently, they've taken over the morning shift at the dock video monitoring office today. My bet, though they did not put that into writing, is that Admiral Hackett had them running interference. That ended up a boon, because Lindholm asked security to keep an eye on the comings and goings from the Normandy and report all movement back to her immediately. They obviously saw our little jaunt -well more so you two and Avitus, than me- and reported that to her once we were on board the Hierarchy vessel. Lindholm was angry about the delay, and Leif theorized that she expected me to do something, so it is very likely that someone has snitched to her."
"Did they identify who it was?" Nihlus asked, his tone darkening.
Shepard knew what that tone portended. Nihlus was the type to exact revenge, and for once she could not be bothered to try and stop him. "They suspect Mikhailovich," Shepard replied. "And I can see it. For obvious reasons via process of elimination. Now, I'd trust Leif, Gino, and Ethan with my life. Claudia? She used to serve under my mother. Then she got married and had a little boy. She wanted to be near her family, and Admiral Hackett needed a new secretary, enough said. Theresa is still serving under my mom. Mikhailovich has a motive for snitching, petty as it is. Then, you saw him, he was not happy to see me in that office."
Nihlus hummed his agreement.
"Knowing those three as well as I do, they'll look into that form me. In the meantime…" Shepard trailed off as she closed the file. "Let's look at this video they added."
Nihlus shifted, keeping one hand on the back of her chair, and putting his other on the table as he leaned over her right shoulder to look at the screen. Garrus was at her left, and as a pale sliver of his shadow fell on the console, it told her enough about how close he was. She turned the audio up and then hit play.
There was no pre-amble, no narration. Seconds passed it utter silence as they listened to the conversation. Then, one minute in, Shepard could not help herself. "Oh those brilliant, mad lummoxes," she whispered as she realized what was going on.
She heard Leif give Lindholm a very bare-bones report, going for the Oscar for best supporting actor by playing stupid, even as Lindholm's annoyance visibly mounted with each word out of his mouth. Then, when he repeated himself, almost word for word, it was entirely a calculated act. Lindholm bit that hook, a murderous glimmer flittered through her eyes. She was furious. What more, she tried her absolute best to hide it, but Shepard was good at reading micro expressions. This was something, irrefutable evidence that Admiral Ines Lindholm was scheming.
"Looks to me like Lindholm is pursuing you with… dubiously-legal means." Garrus noted as the video stopped.
Shepard saw his shadow slide off her desk as Garrus stepped back. Then the air cylinder under her shifted as Nihlus righted himself and moved away as well. She turned her seat around to face them properly. "Oh, yes." She said, this was definitely having her cake and eating it too. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. Right then she could not keep back the satisfied grin. "And she's failing at it. It's glorious to have friends in the right places." If she sounded unbelievably smug at that moment, it was because she was and did not care to bite it back.
"It is a good little bit of blackmail," Garrus mused. "Your favorite, Commander."
"It is definitely unflattering to her. Lindholm can't say anything about me going off procedure without being a hypocrite. If she starts, I only need to show this to the parliamentary representatives and stand back. They'll start asking questions she won't be able to answer. Me? I have some answers for them. Lindholm won't want those answers aired out." There was no quicker way to fall off a righteous high horse.
The video was a bit of damn good evidence to back up Shepard arguing that Lindholm's actions were less about protocol, and more of a power struggle between two admirals. The parliamentary representatives would not find that amusing, doubly so if Leif found actual evidence that Mikhailovich had been snitching. Shepard could effectively muddy the water and deflect some if not most of the attention off herself. "The parliament will want me making Spectre more than prosecuting me for… token violations of procedure. Because that's exactly what meeting the Primarch is. I have the security clearance to see and possess those documents. What more, they would have released them anyways, just with more posturing in between now and then. Really, I only expedited things, and my intentions were strictly good. Besides, expediting things is what we Spectres do, no?"
"Sounds you already know how to use this," Nihlus rumbled.
"Not in every detail, but I certainly have a general idea." She had a lot of ideas circling in her head, bits and pieces of arguments. However, there was no way to know what she would need. She would have to improvise heavily, but that was something she was quite good at. "I talked with Ashley earlier, she said they made an announcement on the news. The Primarch should be meeting with the Alliance representatives this evening. The media also got a vague idea of what the meeting will be about. Lindholm is almost out of time, and facing the court of public opinion. Someone with her reputation ought not to pick fights with someone of mine." Shepard hated her reputation, but that was not to say she could not use it.
"Do you think that they will reach an agreement during that meeting?" Garrus asked.
"I hope they do, because I need that sooner rather than later." It would very literally form the keystone in her strategy. "But I'm realistic. The Alliance will stall and posture, which means that this will be just the first meeting. Lindholm will have the opportunity to come after me in the next day or so. This is where I'm hoping Spectre Rix will come through for me. If I have definitive word from him that the Primarch verified the data, I can work with that."
Fedorian had said he would not keep her involvement a secret, and Shepard knew that it would come up as soon as he mentioned already having the facts. Inevitably the question of where he got them would come up. If the meeting then reached a quick resolution, preferably before Lindholm made her move, then Shepard could use the resolution as an argument. Then it all came down to what tone the Primarch used during the meeting. If there was even a whiff of condescension, it would be stepping on the wrong tail, and the cat would claw her, not him. Still, she did her job as a Spectre, and if need be, she would remind them not to shoot the messenger. Furthermore, if they do not like said job, then they should just forget about having a Spectre to begin with. Prestigious or not, the position was also a double-edged sword.
"Too much of all that is balanced precariously." Nihlus mused.
"True, but that's the norm with murky schemes. I compared this to the roll of the dice, but it's more of a… high-stakes game of poker. Fortunately, I'm quite good at reading people. Lindholm is the sort of player who refuses to fold, no matter how bad her hand is. When their hand isn't great, those players turn to bluffing. You just have call them out on it. Lindholm got something… but I think I got something more." Shepard grinned. "Speaking of having more… Nihlus, any news from Avitus?"
"None yet," Nihlus replied.
Shepard hummed, well she could give Avitus a few more hours. "I guess there's little left but to wait."
Nihlus sighed, but did not offer a counter argument. "You are right. There is nothing else left to it. I cannot even volunteer my assistance as this is an Alliance matter."
Shepard nodded, it really was. It would be best if Nihlus stayed out of this, she would not want to give Lindholm the opportunity to call her a tool to a foreign power. When the push came to shove, and Lindholm found herself backed into a corner, those sorts of accusations would inevitably fly like dreadnought MAC rounds. She did not want to give Lindholm an in with the parts of the tabloid media that thrived on that nonsense.
"Shepard, at this point, you should take whatever last moments of peace you have to mentally prepare for that final fight." Nihlus said.
"That's the plan," Shepard replied.
"I will leave you to it," Nihlus finished, turned, and made his way toward the door.
Shepard watched him, her eyebrows rising with each step he took. Something was either bugging Nihlus, or he was busy with something, she could tell. Well, if it was the latter, she would find out in time, but if it was the former, she would never get it out of him until he was right and ready to talk about it. When the OD's door closed behind the Spectre, she turned to Garrus, who was also watching Nihlus as well.
Before she could say anything, the former detective gave a heavy sigh and turned to face her on his own. "Commander, I know I probably should not burden you with this, but… I wanted to let you know what the Primarch and I discussed."
"First of all, Garrus, you will never burden me with anything, so you can remove the thought from your mind."
"Alright," Garrus replied, his mandibles flicking in amusement.
"Second, you don't have to tell me that if you want to keep it private. I respect privacy," she went on. Admittedly, she also had a good idea of where the discussion had gone, and given that Garrus was not packing his bags, the outcome too.
"I think you should know though. The Primarch wanted to know whether… I was coerced into working on the Nomandy's Thanix. I told him the truth. I volunteered my previous experience."
Shepard bowed her head, "Thank you." She had been right. It made sense too, after all, Fedorian was both the leader for his people and a family friend, however distant.
"I had to tell the Primarch that the Alliance made a good enough job reverse-engineering the guns, but that they lack an important component and still have flaws." Garrus went on.
"What's true is true." Shepard replied ruefully. Lindholm would have been outraged just on the principle. Garrus had leaked what might as well be confidential information to a foreign power. However, as far as Shepard was concerned, the Hierarchy already knew they had a functional Thanix. Did knowing that it was flawed really matter? If it came down to a fight, they would assume that it was a perfect, efficient replica, and fight accordingly. "If anything, I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry."
"For what?" Garrus asked.
"I can't imagine that the Primarch would let you off for working on the Normandy. There will be consequences, probably a mark against you on the permanent records." Shepard began. The sluice gate had opened, and the words flowed as if under the force of gravity, a torrent that was beyond her ability to stop. "I owe you an apology. I let Cerberus frame me, and because of that, allowed your work to be exposed."
"Nonsense!" Garrus cut in, sharp as a gunshot, and just as loud.
The suddenness of it almost caused Shepard to jump. It was the first time she heard him raise his voice.
"Commander," Garrus went on as he kneeled in front of her, bringing himself to eye level, "Do not try to make me feel better by taking on all the blame. I chose to work on those guns. I knew it would look bad when someone eventually found out. I will not let you take the blame."
"Damn it Garrus, you're making me feel worse," Shepard replied. If the worst came to pass, she was willing to go up to Fedorian and tell him that she had coerced, blackmailed, or otherwise pressured Garrus into working on the Normandy's guns. Why was Garrus so damn against that singularly expedient solution?
"I am sorry, I never meant to make you feel worse. I just want you to know… you cannot save me from myself. This whole thing with the Thanix is not half of the questionable things I have done. Have you ever wondered why I happen to have… an eclectic collection of skills?" Garrus began, his voice dipping into a whisper.
"Not really. I mean… I figured you just had broad experience."
"You are right. My father taught me to shoot as soon as I could shoulder a rifle. But the rest? I was in the infantry, a scout, and I apprenticed under an engineer who taught me everything I know about the Thanix. But all that was because I never stayed in one place for long. I told you about the argument I had with Pallin over Saleon, right?"
"Yes."
Garrus rumbled, "Well, I do things… differently, and that got me transferred more often than most. It is not something a good turian does. A good turian may not like an order, but they will carry it out without complaining. A good turian also knows their place. Me? Regardless of what I tried..."
Shepard nodded. She had always thought that Garrus was particularly intelligent, if a touch hot-headed. Suddenly it began to make sense. She doubted that Garrus ever did anything to be transferred out as a direct punishment, but she could see his commanding officers passing him on just to be rid of a problem. "You've never questioned my orders."
"That is because… erm-" Garrus voice dipped into inarticulate mumbles.
Shepard blinked.
Then he looked up, and squared his shoulders. "I question orders when something should be done better. Remember when you told me that I was wrong to order Saleon's ship to be shot down? That was an example. I thought I could do better. You did not lecture me on procedure, you made me realize that… it would not have been better. That was different. That made me think."
Shepard chose not to say anything, Garrus seemed to know where he was going with this. She would let him get there on his own time.
"I do not question your orders, Commander, because I found my place right here… well… not here-here, but on the Normandy. You can do a lot of good in this unjust galaxy, and I intend to be watching your back. As long as you need me, I will be there. Because of that, Commander -and pardon this bout of insubordination- but forget taking the blame for my follies. Do not insult me like that."
Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue. She could not deny the conviction in his blue eyes. It was a moment of illumination. Garrus called himself a bad turian, but he was still loyal to a fault. Offering him an escape had been an insult.
Author Notes: Yep, Shepard is taking a bit of a back seat with this one. Things are moving all around her, and sometimes she is not actually aware of what those moves are. I figured it was slightly more realistic that way. And yes, Garrus reveals more of his background in this canon than he does in game. Hopefully still keeping in the spirit of canon.
General Notes:
Episode Title – This chapter alludes to the other side of Caesar's conflicts. After Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the Roman senate called on one Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (106 – 48 BCE) to "restore order". They had been allies at one time, but Pompey had grown jealous of Caesar's achievement and power.
Chapter Notes:
Nothing of note…