"You know... nothing says interspecies cooperation quite like walking in on a turian and krogan playing buckaroo together on a sleeping marine." Nikki reminisced as she looked round the restaurant table at her fellow SR1 veterans. Karin almost lost a mouthful of wine while the turian in question nearly faceplanted his plate.
"Really? Garrus and Wrex?"
"Oh yes." Shepard stated smugly.
"On who?"
"Ash. You'd think a Williams would know better than to fall asleep in the cargo bay but nope. I step off the elevator, Wrex is balancing a bottle of tupari on her forehead while Garrus is placing empty pouches of medigel on her chest. They see me and just freeze, absolutely bricking it the pair of them."
"What did you do?" Liara wanted to know and Nikki just shrugged.
"I said 'carry on' and went into engineering." She leant back, taking a triumphant swig of her drink.
"There's got to be more to it than that." Joker demanded but her mouth was still full and Garrus took the opportunity to pick up the story.
"Well... As Shepard pointed out I was rather worried, obviously this was before I got to know her better. I was convinced we should stop, but Wrex looks me dead in the eye and says: 'she did say carry on'. I had to make a snap decision who was scarier-"
"Hey!" The indignant interruption was accompanied by a glare from the N7.
"And picked the krogan warlord-"
"Wrex is a softie! I was your CO and a spectre."
"Still not as scary as a krogan with a grudge." Garrus insisted as Nikki pouted and he returned to the tale. "So, I gave in to peer pressure-
"Excuses."
"And we keep piling more and more stuff on Williams. We have to go increasingly further afield to find things and by the time Shepard leaves engineering we're over by the storage lockers."
"I swear, if I'd left them alone much longer they'd have given the spare tires of the mako a go." Nikki added to amused chuckles from their audience.
"Anyway, she yells out-"
"OFFICER ON DECK!"
"Williams jumps up, awake and to attention-"
"Not necessarily in that order."
"-and everything on top of her falls to the deck. I swear it must have taken a good twenty seconds for all the noises to stop."
"Everybody's trying to stay pokerfaced. Williams has no clue what's going on. I just say 'as you were' and waltz back into the elevator."
A variety of laughs swept the table, a few brave souls risking taking a drink. Nobody ate anything though and Nikki realised all the plates were finally empty. With no intention of letting the evening wind down so soon, she caught the waiter's attention and signalled for the dessert menu.
"Anything you'd recommend Liara?" Shepard asked the only person who'd eaten here before.
"I usually have the rait'caw." Nikki's nose wrinkled in disgust. The asari dish wasn't bad per se, but had a rather bitter flavour that the sweet-toothed marine didn't feel belonged in a dessert.
In fact, she thought as her eyes flitted down the multi-cultural levo menu in her hands, not many species seemed to have mastered the art of overly sugary puddings to the same extent as humans.
She wondered briefly if it was down to a biological difference among species' tastebuds, or if it was cultural, or perhaps solely a result of the native ingredients originally found on each homeworld. Fortunately the high end restaurant they found themselves in, offered a small selection of dishes from most spacefaring species.
Around the table blue menus settled down as people decided what they wanted. Beside her Garrus was also struggling to choose, his talons tapping beside his red dextro menu.
"Shepard, pick a number between one and six."
"Five."
The turian glanced back down.
"Pick a different number between one and six."
"Why?"
"I don't want yannel berry pie."
"Pick your own damn food then."
Shepard finally settled on sticky toffee meringue, Garrus on something unpronounceable which didn't matter since no-one else could eat it anyway.
Conversation flowed smoothly as they waited for the next course to be brought out. Their fond reminiscing only interrupted by the chime of an omni-tool.
"Excuse me a moment." Liara requested as she rose and left the table. Shepard tracking her movement with an inquisitive frown. Her curiosity was distracted a moment later by the vibration of her own 'tool, the split second spent wondering whether or not the two notifications were related rapidly vanishing when she was greeted with a picture.
"Trish?" Karin guessed as the spectre seemed to light up, grin radiating across her face.
"Nicky." She seemed to refute while nodding an agreement. Slipping her omni-tool off her wrist and sliding it over in lieu of an explanation. She didn't worry about any of her crew reading the accompanying message. All it had said was: [This is what happens when I let Ben babysit!]
It was the doctor's turn to smile as she experienced the cuteness that was her CO's son. The raven haired tot was sprawled out on his stomach next to an almost blank piece of paper, while the surrounding floor was covered in multicoloured shapeless swirls, the instruments of his creative destruction nearby.
The floor wasn't the only thing that was a mess. His lower face an unnatural green colour that had nothing to do with sickness despite the crayon that was half in one hand and half in his mouth.
"Future marine right there." Joker joked as the 'tool was passed round, earning appreciative chuckles from the humans and a look of confusion from Garrus.
As the only marine present Shepard smiled with the rest, refusing to rise to the age old dig at her service branch's supposed intelligence.
"Looks like he'll be a natural with cam cream at least."
"That's debatable Shepard."
"Alright, maybe he needs a bit more practice."
The twin arrival of Liara and the deserts cut off any further banter. The asari giving only a cursory glance to the passing photo.
"Something wrong?" Shepard asked, barely keeping the faint twinge of offended pride out her voice as she re-secured her omni-tool.
After all, a major catastrophe was the only possible reason for someone not at least cracking a smile at the sight of her crayon eating son.
"My sources have just informed me a justicar landed on Illium this morning."
"A justicar?" Shepard parroted, photo forgotten as she started interrogating her friend.
She was unsure what was less likely: stumbling by pure chance onto the same planet as the justicar in her dossiers, or there being two of the asari warriors outside republic space at the same time.
It didn't really matter. The whole order were skilled fighters and powerful biotics. Any one of them would be an amazing addition to her squad.
If they could be persuaded that her mission was more important than their current crusade.
It was certainly worth the time to ask. Worst they could do was say no. Hopefully.
"What about the drell?" Garrus asked, tapping the data pad of intel Liara had provided on the assassin and his target. "We don't know when he's planning to strike."
In fairness to Liara's skill as an information broker, it was about the only thing they didn't know.
Krios had been the reason they'd come to Illium in the first place. As far as anyone outside Garrus and Miranda was aware anyway.
His dossier was certainly impressive. He'd make a fine addition to the team.
But...
He had Kepral's syndrome and she already had a sniper. He WAS a biotic, but nowhere near as powerful as a justicar.
If one of the potential recruits were to slip through her grasp she knew which way she'd prefer it to be.
"Make a plan." She instructed. She didn't bother insulting him by using the plural. She knew he would make contingencies regardless, he was like her in that respect. "Then stake out Dantius Towers. If we're lucky Krios won't strike until after I've talked to the justicar."
...
"Shots fired Dantius Towers." The turian's voice sounded in her ear while she fought her way through an eclipse warehouse. "Tarc! They're killing the workers."
I should have been more specific when discussing luck. Shepard thought wryly to herself, as she gave Garrus permission to engage.
Technically she HAD spoken to the justicar. Briefly. Just before Detective Anaya carried out a delayed suicide order and took Samara into protective custody.
For the protection of the legally and ethically grey citizens of Nos Astra that is. Not the justicar's.
The combination of idiotic (or possibly just heartless) superiors and an ancient unbendable code meant the only way to prevent the likely wiping out of an entire district of police was for Shepard to find the information the justicar had been seeking before the code defined cooperation period expired.
The code seemed contradictory in a lot of ways to Shepard but it wasn't her place to question it. Even if Samara didn't join her crew, she couldn't just walk away now. Not with the knowledge that good cops like Anaya would end up in the firing line if she did.
Instead the spectre started a killing spree of her own. The difference being all the mercenaries in front of her had killed to earn their eclipse uniforms. That and at least she was willing to accept surrenders.
Well... She amended after encountering Elnora. She was willing to accept the surrender of anyone willing to lay down arms, be restrained in biotic dampening cuffs and handed over to the authorities for questioning.
She wouldn't accept the surrender of someone who opened fire the moment she lay out the conditions of surrender.
But in theory, she accepted surrenders.
Turning a corner, a thrown crate narrowly missed her head. Her rifle barking out retribution a moment later.
A red haze filled her vision that had nothing to do with the poetic fog of war but rather that blasted volus Pitne For and his illegal Minagen X3.
Her hardsuit beeped a hazard warning, echoed by EDI in her ear and she quickly raced through the toxic cloud.
She could certainly attest to the drug's ability to enhance biotics. Her bruises had bruises from the eclipse assault as they switched from crate tossing to Shepard throwing and she wouldn't be surprised if a bone broke after a particularly hard hit against the side of a freight truck.
Her armour worked miracles protecting her from penetrative wounds but could only do so much against blunt force trauma.
The numbing chill of medi-gel flooded the spot before she could analyse the pain but she couldn't help a dark smile at the audible crack the asari responsible made when a charging Grunt forced her into a wall.
It was one way to answer the question about unstoppable forces and immovable objects.
A point blank shotgun blast from the krogan assured the threat was fully neutralised before they moved on.
...
"I am a biotic god!" Grunt let out a deep laugh at the incongruous sight before them and Shepard felt the corner of her lip twitch, but didn't let her guard down. She'd seen first hand what a volus adept could do on the battlefield.
Granted, Niftu Cal was no soldier, but he was clearly suffering from drug induced psychosis while in possession of a potentially deadly weapon. She wasn't taking chances and took advantage of his pacing to charge a non lethal concussive shot while his back was turned, just in case he turned violent.
Of course Garrus chose that moment to call with an update. Apparently Krios was present and had protected several workers from Nassana's mercs.
"I will toss Wasea about like a rag doll!"
"Stop him." Shepard barked as the volus darted behind her teammates and made a break for the door. Grunt gave him the lightest tap a krogan could manage and Niftu crashed to the floor.
"Shepard? What was that?" The turian's two toned drawl inquired across the comms.
"Tell you later. I'm nearly done here, you need any help?"
"Not with Krios, but there's a lot of police gathering downstairs. I'd rather not have to fight them."
"I swear you only love me for my spectre status."
She slid a fresh heatsink into each gun, swapped her shield battery for a full one, reactivated tech armour and nodded at Grunt to resume point.
...
"Your fugitive left two days ago on the AML Demeter." Nikki informed the meditating matriarch.
Apparently the asari was impressed, although Shepard would have been hard pressed to tell if she hadn't specifically said so. The justicar's voice was soft, flat and emotionless.
She remained seemingly detatched as she swore the Third Oath of Subsumation, binding her will to Shepard. An action that seemed far too like giving up free will for Nikki to be entirely comfortable.
Then again with how black and white the justicar code was, she supposed it could be argued that Samara effectively lost her free will centuries ago.
The thought didn't fully soothe her conscious, but she was at least thankful that accidentally breaking one of the justicar code's 5000 sutras wouldn't lead to insta-death. Especially when they would be travelling with a thief, bounty hunter and possibly soon an assassin, on a ship sponsored by a human supremacist terrorist group.
"If you make me do anything extremely dishonourable, I may need to kill you when released from my oath." Samara declared in the same bland voice and Shepard bumped 'find a copy of the justicar code' up her mental to-do list. She had a feeling ignorance of the code wouldn't be a successful defence.
"She talks about killing us as calmly as you or I would talk about what to have for dinner." Detective Anaya observed.
"Speak for yourself," Shepard declared. "Some of us are much more excitable when discussing food. Right Grunt?"
The krogan chuckled deeply in reply. If the justicar regretted swearing to follow a bunch of children she didn't show it.
"Detective, I have some datapads you might find interesting and I don't suppose you could inform your colleagues outside Dantius Towers that a spectre and justicar are en route and it's probably best they stay outside?"
"How do you kno- Of course Spectre." Anaya acquiesced with a nod, accepting the evidence against both Pitne For and the deceased Elnora.
"If you're ready Samara? I believe it's time you met my right hand."
The matriarch looked quizzically at the body part in question. Noting her confusion the Normandy's resident krogan helpfully explained the human idiom:
"She means her krantt."
"Not my whole krantt Grunt. Only Garrus."
...
"You should have been there Trish. It was hilarious!" Nikki insisted when she finally had some free time to call home. "This giant krogan reciting love poems in the middle of the market."
"Aww that's sweet."
"I'm pretty sure the asari didn't think so. She looked mortified, he did it while she was at work."
"It's still pretty sweet." Trish maintained despite wincing slightly in sympathy at his poor choice of setting. "You never do anything like that for me."
The commander's laughter instantly ceased, face morphing into cautious concern.
"Why would I? It's poetry. There's much better ways to a woman's heart than poetry."
"Like what?" Trish asked, doing an admirable job of hiding her feelings behind a blank mask when all she wanted to do was laugh at her wife's suddenly panicked countenance.
"Uhh... Like... jewellery! And flowers. And chocolate. And... romantic meals and foot massages! You can't tell me poetry beats foot massages."
"Hmm," Trish barely bit back a chuckle. Foot massages would definitely win that round but she wasn't letting Nikki off the hook so easily. Not when she had such a golden opportunity for some fun. "I still think it would be nice, just once, to be read poetry."
"Yeah, well... unfortunately for you I'm not Williams, I don't know any poems."
"There's this thing called the extranet, you could look one up."
"Extranet's down at the moment. Whole thing. Broken."
"Really?"
"Mhmm."
"Then how are we talking?"
"Sheer will power on my part. Mind over matter. Important tenet in the marine corps." Trish finally broke into laughter at the super quick and entirely straight faced responses being thrown at her.
"You really won't give me a poem?"
Nikki shook her head.
"I'll serenade you instead if you want?"
"You can't sing." Trish dismissed.
"I can't recite poetry either but that doesn't seem to bother you. You like Meatloaf right?" Nikki didn't wait for a response, launching straight into the middle of a song without musical accompaniment and very little sense of tune. "I'd do anything for love. Anything you've been dreaming of... But... I won't... do..."
"Not even for a dirty pic?" Trish threw the offer quickly into the pause and as predicted it pulled her partner up short. Shepard blinked owlishly, clearly considering it a moment before a frown marred her face.
"I'm not falling for that again."
"What?"
"Last time I debased myself for a dirty pic from you, you sent me a photo of a muddy puddle!" Trish snorted in a very unladylike fashion as she suddenly remembered the incident. It had been years ago and she'd forgotten all about it before Nikki brought it up.
"Ok, how about for an actual photo, of me, without clothes. That sound better?"
"Why do I always feel like I need a lawyer to go through the fine print when I'm negotiating with you." The soldier muttered. "Without clothes?"
"No clothes."
"What about towels, blankets or duvet covers?" She asked suspiciously, the smirk from Trish suggesting she had been right to be wary.
"Fine. How about half naked and you can choose which half?"
"Is that supposed to be better or worse than your last offer?"
Trish chuckled instead of answering the question. "Are you interested or not?"
"Photo's still of you right?"
"Still of me."
"And I just got to read a poem?"
"Just one poem."
"I meant it when I said I don't know any love poems." Nikki insisted.
"Doesn't have to be a love poem. And that suggests you know another kind of poem."
"Any poem?" The soldier clarified.
"It can't be sad." Trish specified.
"Fine. There's one I had to memorise for homework back in school. Never managed to forget it afterwards."
"It's not the one with the snowman and the knife is it?" Trish asked with a shudder.
"No." Shepard reassured with a confused look that said she didn't know what poem Trish was talking about. "It's very silly though."
"Of course it is, you're silly. Stop stalling for time."
Nikki sighed, rubbing her eyebrow and wondering why she'd ever thought it a good idea to tell Trish about the krogan poet in the first place. With a deep breath she opened her mouth and finally recited:
"There was a baboon,
Who one afternoon,
Said I think I'll fly to the sun.
So with two great palms
Strapped to his arms
He started his takeoff run.
Mile after mile
He galloped in style
But never once left the ground.
You're running too slow,
said a passing crow,
try reaching the speed of sound..."
...
Author's note:
A huge welcome to the new followers over the last few chapters and welcome back to the long time fans. Can't believe how quickly this month (and the last year) has gone.
For anyone interested, the poem at the end is "Silly Old Baboon" by Spike Milligan.
I still have very limited free time in which to attempt to write so no promises on when the next chapter will be out, however as always I promise this story will not be abandoned. Incidentally reviews are a great motivator, so feel free to let me know what you like and don't like. Do you like having the calls/texts with Trish at the end? Or would you prefer them at the beginning or not at all? Any other comments or queries? Let me know.
Thanks again for reading (Please review).