Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: Finally done. I'm sorry that this episode took two weeks too long to get out the door. I hope you still enjoy it.
Episode 59: Panem et Circenses
Shepard found Joker and Leif in the starboard lounge, and duly apologized to them for acting snappish. Much to her chagrin it only encouraged the two to toss the biggest impromptu party they could muster, to help her relax. Shepard sighed and decided to throw in the metaphorical towel, there would be no dissuading them. She left them alone, though after stressing that any and all damages would come out of their salaries, not hers. Joker laughed and waved her off.
After that, Shepard went to find Legion. She needed to tell them that their shooting trip was postponed due to a lack of proper facilities. She found the geth in the AI core, tinkering with something or other that she could not recognize off hand. Legion acknowledged her notice in their usual monotone, and that was that. A few minutes of one-sided chit-chat and an invitation to the party later Shepard left them alone. It was obvious to her that whatever Legion was tinkering with was sapping maybe three quarters of their attention span.
After that she ventured down to the deck four to check up on Tali and Gino. Except she did not find them in Tali's makeshift workshop. Though a work table laid out with parts pulled from Chatika meant they had departed mid-work. Shepard knew both Tali and Gino. Neither was the sort to leave work half-done, unless there was something that prevented its immediate completion. With that in mind, there were one place where they could be. She returned to the elevator and took it one deck down.
Shepard knew her hunch was right the instant the elevator opened onto the shuttle bay. Gino and Tali were huddled over the Normandy's small fabricator. Gino was explaining something to Tali while he worked on the fabricator's console. Tali was watching the screen as closely as she could without getting in the way.
Shepard grinned and made a beeline toward them. "Hey you two!"
Tali whirled on the balls of her feet, "Commander!"
"Shepard," Gino said without looking up.
"Were you looking for us?" Tali asked, instantly worried.
"Easy, I'm just… wandering. Leif and Joker are planning a thrown-together party, Matthews is catering, and… I really don't have anything else to do. Also, I'm curious about what's happening." This was really her way of finding out if Gino required added time to diagnose the issue. Gino would understand her thinking.
"Well… good news! There's progress!" Tali chimed, chipper and practically bouncing.
"I found what was wrong with Chatika." Gino explained calmly, still not looking away from the console.
"Gino took one look at how I was anchoring the scavenged barrel assembly and knew what I did wrong." Tali gushed. "And it was so basic! I can't believe I did not think of it myself!"
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Miss Zorah. As I've said, you use a shotgun, not an automatic. There's the source of your minor oversight." Gino said to the quarian, but then turned to Shepard. "A shotgun propels a cluster of projectiles as a single unit. The spread occurs once the unit exits the barrel. But automatics propel projectiles one after another, a few times per second. The rails of all magnetic-acceleration weapon vibrate when fired. However, the rails of a rapid-cycling automatic usually do not have the time to stop vibrating between shots, and most also have a repeating pattern."
"In English, Gino. You know I'm not an engineer." Shepard murmured. Though admittedly she realized that the answer was probably in there somewhere. Gino was hardly the type to give extraneous information.
"When rails vibrate, it adds random fluctuations in the magnetic field used to propel projectiles. For a shotgun, it does not matter, as its projectiles were going to spread randomly anyways. The effect is also negligible for semi-automatic weapons, like your pistols, because the weapon rarely fires in a sustained pattern. But for full automatics, the repeated cycling gives those vibration a rhythm, and at worst, a reinforcing resonance. The spread gets worse the longer you fire." Tali explained, full on miming parts of her explanation. "I removed some of the support and the dampening foam without realizing why so much of it was there to begin with. Gino thinks Chatika's rails were resonating!"
Shepard nodded, she understood that, but only after it just crossed into realm of more general physics. "Sounds like surgery is in order," she said.
"Indeed." Gino smiled, as he turned back to the fabricator. "Fortunately, it's an easy fix. I'm setting the fabricator to machine additional mounting hardware, and the insulation comes in a two-part mix that you have on hand. If anything, your gunny will be able to help Miss Zorah prepare and pour it."
"Well, I am glad you found the problem." Shepard said.
"Anything for you and yours, Cara. Also, Miss Zorah told me that Officer Vakarian worked on her drone. His optimizations actually improved the gun's performance quite a bit, and without addressing the hardware fault causing the problem to begin with. He introduced a slight variance in the timing, less than a twentieth of a second, but it was enough to dampen the resonance. He has serious skills." Gino murmured as he fiddled with the fabricator.
Shepard smiled from ear to ear, "I know. Garrus has a deft hand with taming tech gremlins." She would let Garrus know later, and explain just how high the praise was. Gino was literally next to impossible to impress when it came to engineering work. He thought he was the best and everyone else was second rate on his generous days. "Garrus also worked on our Thanix. Lots of gremlins in those." Shepard knew full well that Gino would also give anything to get his hands on the Normandy's big guns.
"Speaking of… I'd like to take a look at those." Gino muttered even as he continued to work the screen, refining the fabricator's instructions.
Shepard smiled. Hook, line, and sinker. "Sure, take a look, but don't touch! You're not taking anything apart."
Gino chuckled, but did not look up. "I wouldn't do that."
"Right, and I'm the reigning monarch of a small country." Shepard rebuffed as she glanced toward Tali. The girl had taken a step back and clasped her hands. "Tali, I'm sorry that you have to deal with him when he's in this mood."
"Ah… no, it's alright, really." Tali replied.
As Shepard looked on, Gino typed in the last few instructions and pressed the finalize button. The fabricator instantly sprang to life, its material hatch sealed, and the fabrication tools unfolded within. Gino watched it for a few moments, but then turned away. "There, it's going to take about an hour to mill the brackets."
"I'll pick them up when they're done." Tali said.
"Then you're set," Gino beamed.
"Thank you."
Gino nodded without saying another word.
Shepard watched the exchange, trying to conceal her bemusement. Tali was definitely starting to make a mountain out of an anthill. There was really no need to be so polite with Gino.
"Now, I hate to be abrupt… please excuse me… but I still need to do some things before dinner." Tali went on.
"No problem, Tali. Take it easy." Shepard replied.
Tali bowed to both of them and then rushed off toward the elevator.
Shepard watched her go without saying a word. The girl tended to become extraneously-polite when she was nervous and jittery. Shepard realized that she should have said something to put Tali at ease in that regard. Gino was arrogant, but he was not a narcissist. He did not think that universe owed him deference just because he was the best at something.
"She's a joy to work with. Very smart and catches on quick, but inexperienced." Gino stated as soon as the elevator door closed and the cabin departed.
"I know." Shepard smiled.
"Now… you mentioned having a new gun?" Gino went on, seemingly on the same breath. "Any chance I'd get to see that?"
Shepard sighed. There was no stopping Gino once he was on a roll. "Again, only if you don't take it apart." She turned toward the lockers.
"I won't. Oh and by the way, I saw the remains of those Geth you have. I don't get why Miss Zorah called them Heretics," Gino went on.
Shepard opened the locker. That term continued to trip people up. Why could it not have been something self-explanatory? Then again, little with the Geth was self-explanatory, and that was why people tended to fear them. "The short version is that the Heretics are a minority faction, led by an ancient megalomaniacal AI, basically their god-king. Legion, whom you'll meet, is from the majority Geth, who never left the Veil. They function on… on a dare-I-say democratic model, consensus, or at the very least it's not the rule of one." She explained and reached inside for the rifle.
"I see. So there's a difference in world views and philosophy?"
"Basically, yes, but it's more complex than that." Gun in hand, Shepard turned around, "Here it is." Shepard mutely handed the gun over.
Gino took the weapon and turned it over in his arms. "Heavy little thing, isn't it? If you're wondering… I've seen some pictures of the guns salvaged on Solcrum," Gino noted. "Skunkworks is reverse-engineering them, but they'd never deign to share the information with us mere mortals." Gino rolled his eyes.
There it was, Gino's disdain for his most frequently-targeted second rate engineers, Alliance Skunkworks on Gagarin Station. Gino would also never confirm or deny, but Shepard suspected that he was stung by a rejection. She would not be surprised if Gino had attempted to join Skunkworks, and washed. It was their loss really. "Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining, Gino. You would know full well that my gun is not a prototype based off reverse engineering." She was not buying Gino's ruse. "You wanted to see the genuine, Geth-built version up close. What are you scheming?"
Gino laughed, "You're on to me. I wanted to see if I could reverse-engineer one of those, for you. Unfortunately, I was beaten to the punch. It makes sense, your Geth ally would work faster than I can. I can live with that."
Shepard rolled her eyes. It figures that he would plan something like that. Except he still wanted to see the gun. Why? Shepard could hazard a guess. Even though he lost the race to Legion, she would not put it past him to try to reverse engineer the gun to beat Skunkworks to the punch. Maybe he would fail, as Skunkworks had an undeterminable head start, but there was no point in trying to stop Gino from making the attempt.
She watched as Gino effortlessly found the switch to power up and extend the rifle to its full length, which allowed him to check inside the thermal clip assembly, look at the controls, and then peer down the scope. "Very, very nice." He murmured appreciatively.
"If you ask me, this gun is proof that Legion is not merely a facsimile of intelligence. They poured artisanal passion and skill into it." Some might be a bit bothered by the fact that a Geth could design and build such a deadly weapon, but Shepard wanted to look at it primarily through the consideration that Legion had designed and custom-built a tool with a discerning eye. If they could build a deadly weapon, they could probably build more peaceful things too. That meant they were not mindless automatons. That, or perhaps she was making excuses. Not that the whole topic mattered, she was not going to debate the issue with anyone.
"Yes, the effort shows." Gino murmured as he stared down the gun's length, angling it in such a way that the overhead light played on the matte paint. "I can't see a single seam or tool mark, and the paint is flawless… have you named it yet?" Gino looked up.
"Ah, no, not yet." Shepard admitted. "I used my only idea on my Valiant."
Gino hummed low and thoughtful even as the gun folded and powered down in his arms. "How about… Strix? It's a bird of ill omen, often depicted as an owl. Myth says it was vicious, thirsty for human blood, and announced itself with a very unpleasant call." He held the gun out for her to take. "This one seems like it would be parched for blood, and there is no such thing as a quiet AMR."
Shepard took the rifle without saying a word as she mentally turned the name over in her mind. She kind of liked the obvious connections. Then, did she have anything else? The answer to that was a resounding no.
"It also rolls off the tongue and Leif won't complain," Gino added with a shrug and a smile.
"Getting Leif off my back convinced me." She did not bother to conceal the playful sarcasm. "Alright, Strix it is."
Gino nodded, but said nothing.
"You don't want to take a look at its software?" Shepard asked.
"No point. It's probably coded in whatever software language the Geth use. I would not know that. I took a look at the insides, and I can tell you right off the bat that the system is set up similar to a Valiant as far as wires and mechanisms go."
"You can tell? Legion said they based… some things off the Valiant." Shepard glanced down at the gun.
"What can I say, I'm good." Gino chuckled.
Shepard shook her head, "Good, and lacking humility."
"Bah! Humility. That's just something people display to appease the mediocre and jealous."
Shepard was not going to go into that argument with him. There was no winning that argument, and truthfully, she was half-inclined to agree, though she would never admit that out loud.
Silence settled between them, broken only by the whirring and humming of the fabricator. Shepard turned to put the gun back in the locker where she found it. However, when she opened it, she thought better of the placement, closed it, and reached one over to open her own.
After the sojourn in the shuttle bay Shepard went up to the OD to check her emails. EDI had once again pre-sorted her messages, separating out the ones from reporters asking for interviews into a separate folder, which Shepard summarily deleted. One day, maybe, they would learn not to spam her inbox with their desperate pleas for attention. She had bigger fish to fry. Having thanked EDI for saving her a few minutes, Shepard turned to the actually important ones.
The first real message was from Captain Anderson. He apologized for being unable to be there for her meeting with Lindholm, but it overlapped his meeting with representatives from Colonial Affairs regarding the "Feros Affair". That was as good as the Captain telling her that Admiral Hackett had shown her mercy. In assigning Captain Anderson to that task, he still made sure ExoGeni got well and truly raked over the hot coals, but kept it off her overstuffed docket. Beyond that, the message contained assurances and congratulations to her on a job well done making Ines Lindholm back down. Shepard appreciated the bits of encouragement, and sent back a quick reply saying as much. After that she sent Admiral Hackett a brief note, thanking him for taking the ExoGeni affair off her hands.
The second message was a reply from Liara. The archeologist was on the Citadel at the moment, and was definitely willing, even eager, to work on anything and everything Prothean. She also wanted to ask some questions about what had happened on Feros. Shepard sent back a reply saying that she could not discuss anything via text messages, so they should arrange to meet in person.
While typing that, a thought crossed her mind. Would Liara want to see what Nabu had showed her? Strictly speaking it was possible, with a meld, but that would result in pain for Shepard. In all honesty, Shepard just did not want the asari going on a walkabout in her head. She would do about anything to keep melds off the table, and would not be the one to suggest it. Let Liara figure that out, and then maybe Shepard would think about it.
By the time she finished and glanced at the clock, she realized it was almost time for dinner. Well, tonight it would be dinner and a show, courtesy of the natural disaster of Leif and Joker's making. As not enthused as Shepard was about all manner of parties, she could not avoid attending. Someone there had to keep the children from burning down the house.
In the end, it was EDI who announced to her that the party was getting started. When Shepard came down to deck three, she was astounded to find the space had been transformed. Joker and Leif must have ordered multiple rush deliveries of everything from alcohol to junk food and even some decorations. Every unbolted chair had been pressed into service, along with the folding furniture they had in the cargo bay. A portable stereo sat on the top of the steps leading to the main battery, blaring music.
Matthews and his assistant had turned the kitchen counter into a buffet table, and on its far side there was a folding table with the party snacks which Joker and Leif must have ordered delivery. They had set up a second folding table across from it to lay out as a bar. There was a beer keg and pump assembly and multiple bottles of wine and spirits. Shepard was happy to see that all the bottles were color coded for safety with red tape for the levo, and blue tape on the dextro fare.
The entire crew had already gathered, filling the available space to capacity, and everyone already had a cup in hand and they were not drinking. This told Shepard that EDI calling her down had been a coordinated affair. A thought only confirmed when she realized that Joker and Leif wore rather gaudy electric blue and silver prismatic foil top hats, announcing themselves as the masters of ceremonies. However what made Shepard almost do a double-take was the sight of Legion. They stood by the drink table, holding a corkscrew, and wearing a similar top hat held on by a thin elastic that had put up a valiant, but hopeless fight to keep the hat from slipping to one side. As a result Legion looked positively ridiculous in the most adorable manner possible.
"The Commander has arrived!" Leif shouted over the din of conversation.
Shepard froze where she stood even as everyone turned in her direction all at once. For a long second there was no movement or sound, only the music continued to play in the background, but then someone on the other side of the room began to clap, and that quickly set off everyone else. Shepard raised her hands to tell people to settle down without having to shout over the music.
At the back, Ethan made his way toward the stereo and turned the volume down.
"Thank you, Ethan," Shepard called.
The big man nodded mutely.
"They have been waiting for you," Nihlus announced. "Here."
Shepard glanced down and realized he was offering her an actual glass of beer. When she took the glass and looked up she noticed the glittery silver foil bowtie around Nihlus' neck, it matched his black and white tunic. It looked like everyone had gotten into the spirit of party accessories. And here she was, in her fatigues, without a clue as to what she should do or say. Joker, Leif, and Nihlus had effectively managed to do what few others could, they put her on the spot. "Well, thank you everyone, but you did not need to go this far." That sounded lame even to her. She was going to throttle Leif for this.
"Yes we did, Commander. We're that glad that you're still here!" Donnelly called.
"Hear, hear!" The enlisted echoed in unison, in between their chortles of laughter.
Shepard grinned sheepishly. Right then, standing there, she became aware of just how awkward and out of her own comfort zone she was. It was not a feeling she was used to, and that only compounded on the awkwardness. To make matters worse, she could not settle down, not with knowledge that noting was truly over yet. As far as she was concerned right now was not the ideal time for a party. In fact, it felt like she was asking for Murphy's Law to come into effect just to spite her. Still, her crew needed this. She would not dare to rain on the parade, so the only thing she could do was resign herself to winging it.
Joker rose to his feet and tapped his fork against his beer glass to draw attention to himself. "Now that the Lady of the Hour has graced us with her presence, we can get this party started. But first…" He raised his glass high, "I want to propose a toast."
There was a rush for drinks by those who had put their glasses down on some surface.
Joker smiled and turned toward Shepard, proffering the glass graciously as his smile turned outright blinding, "To Commander Shepard. The best damn commanding officer this sorry lot ever had, and the only damn commanding officer we'll ever accept!"
"May she live as long as an asari, and the galaxy never know what hit it," Leif added, grinning from ear to ear.
Joker turned to the blond, "She's a sniper, so of course the galaxy won't know what hit it."
A wave of chuckles passed around the room, but it died quickly.
"Quit getting side-tracked!" Jenkins shouted, "We were toasting. To the Commander!"
"To the Commander!" Matthews echoed, effectively starting the wave of clinking glasses with the enlisted around him. The words continued to echo all around the mess area at various volumes.
Shepard raised her glass and could not help but smile as the wave of exuberance washed over the room. Heat blossomed in her face. This was just another affirmation to what she already knew, she had the best crew in the galaxy.
Bravo clinked their glasses together into a pyramid, and Jenkins' enthusiasm sloshed his beer over Ashley's hand, causing her to glare, thought without any real heat. Kaidan merely nodded in Shepard's direction, offering one of his genuinely warm smiles.
Shepard lowered her glass and took a sip of beer. "Thank you people!" She called loudly, drawing all attention back to herself. After this, she literally could not afford to be let her crew see her downturned mood. "I really don't have a speech prepared. All I can say is…" She paused, raking her mind for the right words. "Well- Thank you! Thank you for your support, for your trust, and for putting up with all the ugly nasty things you have to do because of me. At this point… this ship has become a home to me, and this crew, a family. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. So again, thank you! That's all. Now… I suppose what has to be said… as you were!"
Laughter erupted from the enlisted, and Shepard felt the heat in her face increase. Really, she was so far out of the plate right then that she was actually blushing. When was the last time that happened?
"You've heard her, ladies and gents. Now, as the Master of Ceremonies, I solemnly declare this party officially started!" Joker shouted for all to hear.
There was another wave of cheering as people chugged their first drinks, broke up into groups, and found their corners. Some lined up at the buffet table for their dinner. Ethan reached for the volume control and dialed the music back up, though not as loud as it had been previously.
Shepard watched it all, and tried her best to melt into the background. Fact remained that, encouraged as she was by her crew's display, she still did not feel like partying. Furthermore, despite this being a valiant effort on Joker and Leif's part, there was no denying that it was stunted. They did not have enough space for everyone, and the whole thing had been hastily thrown together. The latter issue was definitely her fault, as she had come down on the organizers. She sighed, acknowledging that there was nothing she could do to change any of that.
"Shepard?" Nihlus asked, low and right over her ear.
Shepard looked up.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm…" She stopped. She could not bring herself to say she was fine. Beyond her realization that she had torpedoed the party from the get-go, she also could not relax. Some part continued to insist that there was something bad brewing on the horizon, and the more she told herself not to think about it, the more she thought about it. "Tired." At the very least that was not a lie. She was bone weary of everything, and there was no real end in sight.
"Moreau and his new accomplice should not be forcing you to attend if you do not want to," Nihlus said.
Shepard blinked. Did he understand her admission as a sign of physical weariness? Well, if he had, she could work with that. It was hardly the most damning of white lies.
"Come sit with us, we will keep them from making everything worse." Nihlus went on.
When Shepard looked in the direction he indicated, her eyes landed on the line of crates under the medbay windows. Garrus sat on one end, blue-taped bottle in hand, watching her keenly. He was wearing a blue foil bowtie to match his tunic too. She looked up to meet Nihlus' gaze, smiled, and passed her hand along his outstretched forearm as she moved past him.
Garrus' smile widened as she approached, and as soon as she eased down next to him, he reached over and carefully tapped the bottom of her glass with his bottle. "To the Commander," he rumbled, almost right into her ear.
Shepard felt the wash of his warm exhale and a surge of energy rushed down her spine. Since when was Garrus doing that? Nihlus did it because the concept of private personal space was a suggestion at best to him, but Garrus? The former detective still struggled to use her name half the time. Well, the music was a bit loud, he might be thinking that she would not hear him otherwise. Then, the bottle he held was made of dark glass, so for all she knew it was nigh empty and he was already tipsy. She would not read too much into that little lapse. "Thanks Garrus," she replied.
Nihlus appeared at her other side then, holding another blue-taped bottle, and sat down, effectively caging her between them. A second later he wrenched the metal cap off and then reached to tap the bottom against her glass. "To the Commander," He echoed.
Shepard smiled and took another sip of beer. This was essentially a dinner, and she was hungry. Maybe food would help put her mind at ease, but for now she would just watch the crew. They would soon finish their raid on the buffet table, and then she could get her dinner without a fuss. Observing things, she could not help but notice that this really was not much of a party, more like a super fancy dinner with alcohol and music, but no one seemed to mind.
Tali sat at the mess table, chatting with the engineers and Doctor Chakwas in a very animate manner. Joker and Leif sat with Bravo, and Leif was already making quick work of his first plate. Shepard idly wondered if Matthews had made enough food, because Leif ate as if he was a small army all on his own.
Then, as Shepard watched, the line of enlisted who were getting their plates inevitably drifted toward the bar to get drink refills. This roused her curiosity, so she turned in that direction. It was then that she realized that Legion was outright bartending. As she watched, they filled a glass from the keg for one crewman, but then the next must have asked for one of the glass bottles. Legion reached into the box under the table. As they righted themselves, they shifted their grip to hold the bottle by the neck. The tip of their thumb slipped under the lid's lip and suddenly the cap went flying. The enlisted in the cap's path jumped, but before the cap hit him, the geth snatched it out of the air with their free hand even as they offered them the bottle.
The enlisted exchanged glances, but the one who ordered the bottle only laughed, took his drink, and stepped aside. The next in line, one of their three female enlisted, said something to Legion with a smile. Legion bowed their head and reached under the table for another bottle. The cap went flying again, and Legion snatched it out of the air with deft ease. The woman laughed and took the bottle.
It was then that Shepard finally realized Legion was launching caps intentionally. They likely knew their average mass, the gravity and air resistance on board, and were applying the same force every time, which allowed them to calculate the trajectory. The crew found the trick entertaining anyway. She smiled and took a generous swig of her beer.
Garrus leaned closer, to whisper into her ear. "If you are wondering whom to discipline..."
"This has Joker's fingerprints all over it," Shepard replied.
"How did you guess?" Garrus rumbled, amused.
"Leif wouldn't dare to take such a liberty." Well, she hoped he would not dare, if he knew what was good for him. "But oddly enough this isn't too bad… it might teach Legion something about interacting with people. They can't keep shying away, not everyone wishes them harm, and reaching out to those who don't is good for them. Being entertaining is a good way to break the metaphorical ice too," Shepard explained. Well, knowing Legion, they knew that, but they were still running off precedent and statistical probabilities. The ice that needed breaking was quite thick.
"Good point," Garrus agreed.
When Shepard turned her head to look at the Geth, they were still serving the crowd. After the first few repetitions the trick's novelty wore down, so more people asked for a drink that did not have a metal cap to launch. Legion showed no indication that it bothered them, nor any hint that they heard anything of her conversation with Garrus. Still, Shepard wondered, but she could not ask, could she?
She shook her head and then turned back to what remained of the beer in her glass. Having drained it, Shepard got up and crossed the mess. The glass went into the dishwasher before she turned to the food. Matthews had done what might quantify as magic, because he made enough food to form a rudimentary three course meal for everyone. On the levo side there was a hearty vegetable-infused chicken noodle soup, mashed potatoes, and pasta with tomato sauce. All of that were mirrored for the dextro crewmates. Albeit their soup was thicker with meat chunks, and their version of mashed potatoes was green. A bit of everything dextro was still waiting inside the sterilizer device for Tali.
Shepard started with the soup, which she poured into a large mug, for portability. Seating space in the mess was inadequate for everyone, and she would not dare to dislodge anyone. Commanding officer or not, Shepard had lines of common decency that she would never cross. With soup and spoon in hand Shepard made the rounds. The soup slowly vanished into her stomach as she talked to people.
The conversations were never very long, but they allowed her to measure the crew. She quickly ascertained that the scuttlebutt mill was grinding at its usual pace. Everyone was glued to the news, and every scrap of information was passed around within minutes of discovery. Everyone knew that Admiral Ines Lindholm had gotten up in arms over the Citadel Detectives being allowed on board the Normandy. Shepard learned that ANN had wasted no time airing her interview from earlier in the day. Her crew had done an admirable job of connecting the dots between her troubles with Lindholm and the Hierarchy involvement, and they were all simply too supportive, encouraging her to do what she did best. That did wonders to bolster her mood and confidence in the moment.
However, fact remained that the arrangement was hardly a party. Within the hour some people began to disperse. The enlisted were the first to drift off toward the lounges. Donnelly grumbled for everyone to hear that it was not much of a party for him. He could only have one drink as he still had a duty shift minding the fusion core. Joker cracked a joke about the engineer's noble sacrifice, and everyone laughed.
In the midst of all that, Shepard had downed her second beer with a plate of mashed potatoes, and it was not long after that she realized that she was beginning to feel it. It was becoming difficult to stop herself from snorting in laughter at Joker's at-times rather rude humor.
Still, as far as losses of self-control went, she had nothing on some of the enlisted who decided to hang around. Two of the men had clearly imbibed something stronger than merely beer before going up the steps into the span just before the main battery. Right then they were busy artfully stumbling about under the pretense of dancing. Shepard was not yet at that point where she felt the urge to dance, but alcohol made everything funnier and loosened her tongue enough to start outright boasting.
It also made her stop overthinking everything, which explained why somewhere in the middle of her explanation of how she got the better of Lindholm for those who had not been present, she got a third beer. By the time she was done, that third glass was gone and her merely-tipsy buzz turned into something a little more serious. Not that anyone seemed to mind. Leif had clearly beat her to the punch across all metrics, and she realized he was well and truly drunk when he threw his arm around her shoulders. To say nothing for her, as she barely felt his normally stun-gun-like biotic static discharge right into her. Jenkins noticed how Leif's hair fell flat as soon as he was not carrying said charge, which was a source for some comedy.
Half an hour later, with her mashed potatoes gone, Shepard tried to get up, set on getting some of the pasta. However as soon as she was upright, the deck plates suddenly seemed to shift as vertigo washed over her. Before she could stop herself, she stumbled. Then, seemingly in an instant, there was a warm arm wrapped around her back, and an impossibly warm hand on her shoulder. The conversation at that table went mute in an instant. Shepard opened her eyes, having not realized she closed them. It was Nihlus who had grabbed and pulled her to his side.
The three-fingered hand on her opposite shoulder slipped off. "Commander?" Garrus asked, his voice way too close.
Shepard forced herself to straighten, and inhaled deeply before pushing away from Nihlus.
"Are you alright?" Nihlus asked.
"I'm upright," Shepard replied.
Both turians hummed in concert.
In that moment Shepard came to the realization that she definitely had more than she thought she did, and that was a little too much. She turned back toward the people still at the table. Everyone's eyes had turned to them. And was that Ashley grinning? What was she grinning about? Well, Shepard supposed it was not every day that one got to see their superior officer nearly face-plant into the deck like that. There was no sugar-coating that, just admitting defeat. "Yea, people… I think I had too much."
"I'd say," Joker muttered.
"I'd elbow you, but I wouldn't want to break a rib." Ashley groused.
"Well, thank you!" Joker replied.
Shepard could not help herself from grinning, even if that exchange was hardly funny really. However, standing there in the overhead lights, she could still feel some of the vertigo. "Behave, children." She said. No, the pasta would not help the vertigo. If anything, overeating now would make everything worse. "I think that was the universe telling me to stop. I'm gonna call it a night."
"Take care of yourself, Shepard. If you're not feeling well, no one here will stop you." Kaidan said.
"Do you need any help?" Jenkins asked as he moved to get up.
"No I'm fine, Richard." Shepard replied.
"Read the room and sit back down, Jenkins." Joker said.
The corporal looked to Joker, then back to Shepard, and then past her for a moment. Then his mouth fell open into an "O" shape, and he promptly sat back down.
Shepard was not going to think about that too hard. For one, thinking was uncomfortable right then. "Leif, Gino, Ethan, we have rather comfortable couches in the lounges if you want to take a sobering nap or something. It isn't a good idea to be seen drunk and in uniform."
"Yea, you have a point there," Gino nodded.
"Thanks Shepard." Ethan smiled broadly.
"Also, Joker, Leif, I feel like I need to come out and say this… thanks for this party. You were right, I was wrong, we all needed this." It was true, this whole thing, lazy and hastily-thrown-together as it was, had helped her relax a little. Sure the ending was a little inglorious right then, but that was mostly her fault. She really should have checked the label on that beer. Something told her that it was not the five percent alcohol standard.
"Care to repeat that Pogie? For posterity? I want to play it to my grandkids." Leif said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Eff off, Leif." Shepard replied automatically.
His grin widened right into the realm of too happy for himself.
Shepard was going to make him rue that. Just as soon as she could figure out how.
"Just go, Shepard. He's basically not responsible for what comes out of his mouth right now." Ethan said.
"Is he ever responsible for that?" Shepard replied. "The only thing running faster than him, is his mouth!"
Laughter went around the table. Leif wisely chose not to compound on the situation with his wit.
"Go get some sleep, Shepard. I'll handle the rest from here," Joker said, quietly, as soon as the silence returned.
He was also grinning. Why was everyone grinning at her right then? Was there something she missed? For that matter, who was Joker to dismiss her? She could do whatever she wanted. She rolled her eyes and turned toward the elevator.
"Are you really alright?" Nihlus asked as soon as they were in the corridor that spanned the width of the ship from lounge to lounge.
"I'm really upright." Shepard replied, but then stopped. The world was still swaying for her a little. She placed her hand on the elevator wall to steady herself as she turned to Nihlus, which just made the floaty-feeling worse. It took her a split of a second too long to process that Nihlus was not alone, Garrus was a step behind him, and he looked unabashedly worried. Man, she really, really should not have had that third beer. "I just realized that wouldn't translate right for you."
"No it does not," Nihlus replied.
"Human idioms are problematic half the time. That one? No idea what that was." Garrus said.
"Wasn't an idiom. Wordplay." Shepard chuckled, mostly at herself. "In my language alright and upright sound sort of alike and- well… it's dumb… and explaining makes it dumber. Forget I even said anything."
"Wordplay in particular would never translate correctly," Garrus murmured.
"Yea, sorry about that." Shepard muttered.
"No it is fine," Nihlus replied.
"Eh… one of you needs to remind me to punish Joker and Leif later. That beer was definitely more than a five percenter. I haven't been this soused since I tried to outdrink Wrex." She mumbled as she shuffled toward the elevator, keeping her hand on the wall for support. She practically stubbed her fingers punching the haptic call button.
"Shepard, it is fine. You need to relax occasionally," Nihlus replied.
"Sure! I wonder if the universe has a suggestion inbox you could mail that to... Dear universe, let Shepard relax occasionally, yours truly, exasperated Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik."
Nihlus chuckled behind her.
"You'd have to check if that suggestion box is actually connected to a chute straight into an incinerator. Because I'm telling you… the universe does not care."
Nihlus' chuckle turned into a low laugh, and even Garrus joined in.
Shepard blinked, did she really say something funny? For once she was complaining, and they thought she was being funny. What the hell?
"Well, you could always put them on rations, or cut their pay. Those are always your favorite threats." Garrus muttered.
"Oh is that how it is? Careful, I'll dock yours." Shepard muttered, looking him right in the eye.
Garrus flashed her a look of surprise.
Shepard realized that he did not take that the right way. "Sorry, Garrus, bad joke. I didn't mean it."
"Ah… alright."
Shepard smiled sheepishly, but before she could actually say anything, the elevator arrived and opened its doors. She stepped aboard, tapped the key for her loft, and turned around, instantly surprised to see that both Nihlus and Garrus had followed her on.
Then Nihlus reached around her and pressed the door close button. Shepard froze on the spot. There it was, that nimbus of body warmth. The grandest bloody irony in the universe, the species that looked all sharp and prickly were also the warmest. It was like evolution was taunting them, just because it could.
The elevator door closed without her noticing, and then the cabin started with a jolt. Normally Shepard barely felt it, but this time she had been too laser-focused on Nihlus' inviting warmth, and that was enough. She jumped and there was nowhere for her to go except face-first into Nihlus' tunic. Nihlus automatically wrapped his arm around her back again.
"Shepard!" Garrus called, his hand instantly on her shoulder.
"Having fun?" Nihlus rumbled, right over her ear, and clearly amused.
"Oh yes, having a fabulous time face-planting," Shepard mumbled a she raised her hand to push off his keel, straightening a little. However, the second her hand made contact, the warmth he exuded sank right in and all thoughts of pushing him away evaporated. She looked up, meeting his eyes, bright, full of mischief, and simply way too close. Suddenly all she could think of whether it was wrong to be thinking what she was thinking. Was it wrong for her to enjoy the moment? Just a little? Just as long as the elevator took to reach her loft?
Garrus cleared his throat and Shepard all but jumped, as if scalded. Heat rushed into her face. Damned beer! It had to be the beer. How else could one explain her sudden issue with tunnel-visioning like a fresh recruit? Then to make her humiliation complete, both of them broke into a fit of low and rumbling chuckles, and within the confines of the elevator cab, the sound seemed even lower, going right down into her bones.
Shepard turned away from both of them and crossed her arms. It was petty, it was quite possibly childish, but she did not want to look at them right then. Though for the life of her she could not decide whether it was because she was mortified, or if it was because for the briefest little moment there, something had passed over her. Something weird. Something she did not want to think about. Damn that accursed beer, she was never drinking again! That was a promise to the universe right there.
The elevator stopped and the door opened. Shepard all but flew out, eager to put some distance between herself and them. Sleep would cure everything. Yes, sleep would fix everything. Given the amount of alcohol she had, come morning all of this was going to be just a vague, fuzzy dream that dissipated like the morning mist. She practically stubbed her fingers again going for her door lock, and as the door opened, whirled around. "Thank you for… ah walking me to the door." She was proud of herself for keeping her voice perfectly normal right then.
"Think nothing of it," Garrus replied.
"It was our pleasure." Nihlus replied, his mandibles spread into one of his brazenly self-satisfied grins.
"Well… have a good night." Shepard added. Still normal, though she could feel the heat gathering in her ears. Before she even got a reply, she turned around, and practically flew into her quarters, blindly stabbing at the lock console on the other side.
"Good night Shepard!" She heard Nihlus call, laughter in his voice, before the door actually closed.
Shepard heaved a deep breath and let it out of her nose slowly. It was only then that she realized just how high-strung and unnatural she had been acting in the last two minutes. Damn that beer, damn the people who brewed it, damn Joker and Leif for buying it, and damn her for drinking it. She was most definitely never drinking another drop ever again.
Meanwhile…
The door to Shepard's cabin closed, and the panel instantly shifted from green to red, indicating that the lock had been engaged. Nihlus turned to look at Garrus, and had to consciously restrain his urge to laugh loudly.
"What was that?" Garrus asked blandly.
"That was a very rare phenomenon we have never witnessed before, Vakarian. The ever-in-control Commander Shepard becoming flustered," Nihlus explained, without bothering to smother his subvocals. Garrus would know how close he was to a laughter fit. "It was adorable."
"She will toss us both out the airlock if she ever hears you say that," Garrus said blandly, though his subvocals rang with amusement.
"She will probably try." Nihlus agreed as he turned toward the elevator.
"So, what are we going to do?" Garrus went on, his subvocals muted all at once.
"Pretend like nothing happened," Nihlus offered. "Vakarian, she clearly had more than she thought she did. When was the last time you saw her stumble? That was what… three times in the span of ten minutes?"
"You have a point," Garrus hummed.
"EDI." Nihlus said bluntly, knowing that the AI was listening.
"Yes, Spectre Kryik?" EDI replied.
Now he only needed a way to articulate what he needed the AI to do. Technically he had very limited authority with the AI. It only did things for him when he could justify them, or if he pulled his Spectre privileges. What he needed now was not something his privileges were good for, so he would have to ask. "You saw the exchange in the elevator."
"You are correct," EDI replied bluntly.
"EDI, do not let anyone see that footage, especially not Moreau." Nihlus said. The pilot would ensure that everyone on the Normandy knew about it within the hour. Shepard would not like that. Nihlus was not ashamed of what happened, but he knew that Shepard was a very private person. He would protect her even in that. "I am asking for Shepard."
Garrus was staring at him with increasingly loud incredulity.
"I understand. What I observed is to be classified as private. I will endeavor to keep Flight Lieutenant Moreau from seeing the footage." EDI said after a long moment of silence.
"Thank you, that is all I needed," Nihlus replied automatically.
"Of course, Spectre Kryik."
Nihlus reached for the elevator call button, his way of wasting a few seconds, hopefully long enough for EDI to turn her immediate attention away from the deck one corridor. The door opened immediately, as the elevator had not had the time to leave this level. Nihlus stepped on without saying a word.
"What did happen back then?" Garrus asked as he followed.
Nihlus tapped the button for deck three and turned to face the younger male. "What did it look like?" For a moment there, Nihlus had been tempted to lower his head to hers, but fortunately managed to restrain himself. It was not right, not with Shepard quite possibly too intoxicated to remember it in the morning.
He himself was not exactly sober right then. The three Palaven ales he had consumed had not been as powerful as what Shepard had drank, he was not stumbling about, but they were powerful enough to raise his body temperature and numb his thinking. Vakarian had consumed one less, which meant he was closer to sober, and Nihlus had to be on his guard around that. The cabin started on its way down. "Now is still not the time for that." Nihlus finished. Hopefully Vakarian would remember their previous discussion.
"Fine, but I will not let you do as you please, Kryik. Do not think I forgot about Taetrus." Garrus said, subvocals flashing with anger as a warning.
Nihlus turned to face the younger male. "What do you want to know?" That was largely a pointless question as he knew what Garrus wanted, and he would probably overreact the instant he found out just how thoroughly Nihlus was responsible for what happened. There was also no use bending the truth either. Garrus could ask Shepard and any omission would be exposed, making things worse.
"What happened? How did she get injured like that?" Garrus asked, surprisingly quietly, rumbling with concern, though not anger, yet.
Nihlus sighed, but before he could say anything, the elevator stopped and opened its doors. "I will tell you, follow me." He did not wait for a reply before stepping out of the elevator and turned toward the XO's cabin.
The impromptu party had officially ended during their absence, and people were now just enjoying their own definition of free time. The music was gone. Matthews was busy collecting the scattered dishes and glasses. Legion was packing the alcohol into various boxes. The only ones at the mess table right then were Shepard's old teammates, team Bravo, and Moreau. Tali sat off to the side, on the crates that they had vacated, and when she saw them, she got to her feet and made her way toward the elevator, like she had been waiting for them to come back.
Not one of those at the table paid them heed as Nihlus unlocked his cabin door and stepped inside. Once past his cabin door he went straight toward his terminal to check his messages. It was an excuse to delay the inevitable. The door closed with a soft mechanical hiss, and for a long moment there was only silence. Having checked that he had nothing new from the Council, Nihlus looked up and caught Vakarian's gaze.
The former detective had clearly been waiting for that. "What happened?" He asked.
"I made a horrible mistake." Nihlus replied automatically. There, that was entirely to the point.
"Obviously." Garrus replied, just as blunt.
Nihlus sighed, and launched into a detailed explanation of what happened on Taetrus. Strictly speaking, Vakarian did not need to know the whole situation, and Sparatus would not be pleased if he found out, but there was no way to avoid the full explanation. Garrus was as impulsive as he was smart. If he came to suspect that Nihlus had omitted anything, he might actually go to his father for the full report. Castis Vakarian would not keep it from his son. To make matters worse, Nihlus wrote that report the same way he wrote any other, with an emotional detachment that downplayed Shepard's injuries as an unfortunate happenstance, not her fault, but nothing to worry about either. It was the biggest lie Nihlus had ever uttered, and it would undoubtedly anger Garrus.
Vakarian listened without so much as twitching. His subvocals went completely mute, even as his mandibles began to tick against his jaw.
Nihlus talked for a good ten minutes, covering the events of that mission beginning to end. By the time he reached the part where he had to explain where and why he made mistakes, things became very uncomfortable for him. He would have liked to keep his familial connections a secret, but the whole situation was too tangled up in them to allow that. Garrus would not understand why he did what he did if he did not know that Camilla Pallas was his mother, and Octavian was his half-brother. By the time he finished the other male's subvocals had started to rumble with incredulity.
"Spirits, those barefaced monsters. I assume they are dead now, right?" Garrus asked, finally breaking almost a minute of near-silence.
"Shepard almost disemboweled Iulus, and she shot Nerion." Nihlus said.
"Good. But… that does not explain why you overreacted. It was clearly personal for you." Garrus went on.
There it was. The million credit question. Nihlus perched on the edge of his desk. Right at that moment he needed something solid to anchor him. Admissions of this sort never came easy, and this was the worst of all confessions. "It was." Nihlus admitted. "Is it not obvious yet? Octavian Pallas is my half-brother, and Camilla is my mother." There, he said it.
The other male's subvocals went silent in an instant and his mandibles spread into a look of pure, unadulterated shock.
Nihlus watched him for a long moment, but then decided to get everything over with. If he was going to commit suicide, he might as well give Vakarian every reason to commit murder. "I nearly got Shepard killed because I was angry and petulant. I regret it with everything I have. Spirits, I wish I could forget the sound of her hitting the wall, but I cannot."
"And she forgave you," Garrus stated.
"Yes. She did not need to do it, but she did." Maybe the ale was making him extraneously sentimental, but it did not make the sentiment false. Saying it like that, only enhanced the scope of that singular thing. She forgave him. No hostility, no blame, no grudge. In his line of work, that singular thing is very rare. What more, Shepard was the first individual in a long while that he felt an attachment to. He had never been the sort to form attachments easily. He had always been an outsider, born on mining outpost, a year older than everyone else in basic, too independent, too insubordinate, and too unwilling to conform to the norms just because they were the norms.
Becoming a Spectre only made that harder. There were a number of reasons why Spectres were loners. Few could tolerate knowing so little about what their partner was doing, the long absences, or the learned paranoia. Spectres died if they trusted the wrong individual. Yet Shepard understood all that, and they even shared a similar independent nature. The way Shepard handled Lindholm attested to the fact that she would do what she wanted. She was also unflinchingly loyal to those whom she trusted. Nihlus suspected he would never meet another individual who complimented him in so many ways.
"I am not taking that for granted. I vowed to myself, then and there, that I would never make the same mistakes a second time. I would protect her with everything I had, in whatever way I could, no matter who decided they wanted to be her enemy," Nihlus finished, looking the other male right in the eyes. Just to make sure Garrus understood that the vow was not made lightly.
Garrus sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, "I will not pick a fight with you over her decisions."
Nihlus would take that as an unspoken admission of defeat on Garrus' part. "And what we discussed before still stands. Dealing with Lindholm was not easy for Shepard. She did not enjoy doing what she had to do. The fight is not over either, she still has to do deal with Sparatus. I will not add to her burden at a time like this," Nihlus said.
"Neither would I," Garrus replied.
"So, that means our impasse still stands." Truthfully Nihlus was surprised that Garrus had not exploded. Either he had learned to control his temper, or he was still deferring to Shepard's decisions, because she was still technically his superior. Truthfully, it could even be a mix of the two. Nihlus really did not care to think through those details. The real fight would come in the form of getting Shepard to see either of them as more than just allies and friends. Nihlus had a growing suspicion that she simply had not realized that their affections for her had crossed that line yet. The individual who could seemingly foresee what her enemies would do, was utterly blind to the sentiments of those closest to her. There was irony in that.
The Next Morning…
Shepard woke up in an odd, conflicted state. On the one hand, her body was definitely feeling the effects of the unconfirmed quantity of alcohol. But on the other the realization that she had gotten the better of Lindholm had the time to finally fully sink in. Despite feeling parched, physically groggy, and having a low-grade headache, emotionally she felt better. It was as if one of the biggest rocks around her neck had fallen off.
She was showered and dressed in about forty minutes, and after that, she made her way down to deck three to put some fluids in her body. The Normandy was unusually quiet that morning. Every little click and clack from the ducts was perfectly audible. She would not be surprised if the duty crew were being mouse-quiet even on the CIC.
Over the next hour she had breakfast and made sure that the Normandy was in order. EDI told her that Leif and the boys had slept the alcohol off in the lounges, and then departed before she was awake. Shepard found a message in her private inbox, hastily and sloppily typed up by Leif, explaining their rush to get out of her hair.
She caught Tali and Ashley quick at work packing away a breakfast of last night's leftovers. Tali was eager to rush off to finish the drone modifications that Gino had outlined for her. Ashley was on board with helping Tali pour the foam once the brackets were fully in place. It was almost comical to see just how much energy Tali had, compared to the gunny, the latter admitted to having drunk two of those same beers Shepard had. In the end, they decided to lodge a complaint with Joker about the beer. He was never ordering what that had been again.
Overall it was not hard to miss the fact that a good two thirds of her crew was groggy that morning. The two enlisted who had over-imbibed to the point of dancing were in the medbay. From what Shepard saw, they were getting a stern talking to from Doctor Chakwas. She only made sure they had not been on the night shift while drunk. Once she was sure that they were afternoon shift, she deemed a lecture from the doctor to be punishment enough for cutting a little too loose.
After breakfast, she went up to the OD to check her messages. At the top of the list she found a couple more reporters who wanted an interview. There was even an invitation from a talk show, which wanted the scoop on humanity's soon-to-be-Spectre and the woman who saved Terra Nova.
Shepard took the moment to actually refuse every single one of those requests, even the talk show. Really, should not talk shows be inviting their usual gamut of frivolous celebrities? She could not even be sure that they would talk to her about the job. Not that she was at liberty to discuss said job on television, but it was the principle of things. For all she knew, they wanted to know what makeup she wore, or about her love life. She had no time for such frivolities.
The only meaningful or important thing that was in the morning batch of emails was a confirmation from Admiral Hackett. Lindholm had indeed backed down, due to pressure from above. Shepard was officially free to continue to operate at as the commanding officer of the Normandy, and Admiral Hackett wanted her to give him a rundown of what she would do from there.
Shepard sent back a message mentioning that Nihlus needed to have a chat with the Council regarding her status, while she was busy running a few other leads. Nihlus had identified her clone's killer, and that she wanted to talk to Castis Vakarian regarding the evidence Citadel Security had collected from the scene. After that, she was going to purse the lead she got on Feros, mentioning her established contact with Liara. In both cases, she needed some time on the Citadel to work the angles.
Within half an hour she got a reply that she was clear to pursue that agenda. So Shepard told Joker to get them to the Citadel at his convenience. It was time to get back to business dealing with real issues.
Author Notes: This episode ended up being a bit of a filler to line up a few loose duckies. I do apologize for that, and the fact that it took so long despite being filler. January was also a bad month for me. Quarantine made my seasonal affective issues about a dozen times worse. Add to that, I'm very worried for my American friends. Yea, I'm making excuses, but I'm not in a happy place.
General Notes:
Episode Title – This of course is Latin, meaning "bread and circuses". The idea that one could keep the masses from coming after you with food and entertainment. The Romans were quite famous for employing both, doling out bread and putting on games.
Chapter Notes:
Strix – There is quite a few loose associations here to unpack. Some Greek sources say that the Strix was once a person, punished for cannibalism (explaining the malice / bloodthirst / ill omen associations). Then, the taxonomic Latin name for the true owl family is Strigiformes (Athena's sacred owl, the Little Owl, A. Noctua, is part of this family). Finally, the bad associations also warped into the figure of the Striga / Strega / Strzyga (there are other spellings), which are vampire/witch-like creatures in European folklore (e.g. Eastern Europe and Italy).