Relief drowned me with the shuttle humming below my feet, soaring over the emerald hills of Ireland rather than the bracken hills of Scotland. To save Lanster complaining like a child, we left the Starquake in Glasgow and travelled to Ireland on the shuttle. Unlike Glasgow, my accent wouldn't pull any strings and the full whip of the Spectres would lash down on the Irish controllers. Not, keep my pilot in a good mood for now. Although the arrangements had upset someone. A smile tugged at my lips. Oh, Gideon is none too impressed about being left behind after his first taste of freedom. These new instincts surfacing after becoming a mother had prepared me for this, expecting him to escape Mat'al's watchful eye at the first opportunity. Not as easy as he did but still, he didn't surprise me. It didn't stop the heart attack though. With a Saboteur running around, a meat shield would break me down. But the source of my relief? What happened in Kinlochleven escaped me, my mind unable to draw the dots together. The buzzing, the constant hum of insects deafened me, maddening. It felt like worms burrowed through my skull, eating away at my sanity, dropping me into a pool of disorientation. Shadows of people and monsters moved through the trees, ever at the edges of my sight. Whispers of languages long dead hushed through the air, snapping the hairs on my arm upright. To name but a few of the crazy shit that went down. My head shook, dreading the coming night. Sleeping pills… had to get sleeping pills from Saere, brain, don't forget.
Gideon kept the paper messages from Marshal and passed them onto me in the shuttle. My concern rose as my eyes skimmed the yellowed paper. What Marshal said… what did he mean by 'separated'? Separated from who? Who had taken Marshal into space? And the date of this Saboteur assault he mentioned? It happened 3 days before Shepard found me Xawin and took aboard the Normandy. But then there was the 'awakening' part. Had I been awake for longer than Xawin, how much longer. My teeth gnawed on my lip, watching the rolling hills of the southern part of Ireland masked in cloud and rain. We were almost there… minutes away from my mother's mansion. With the realisation it had been a century and a half since seeing the old manor, regret settled. My family never spent much time there. It was more a summer or winter retreat when mum or dad needed to get away from their careers or they wanted to get us out of the country. It was also the home base for dad and his experimental computer stuff. Dammit, he loved his computer shit, he never passed that onto me. That's the main reason we housed Marshal's servers here, why all of our most treasured belongings had been in the vault guarded by the first attempt of an AI. The estate had been in my mother's family for generations, too many to count. My mother was to pass when she passed but now… after my disappearance though, who knew who owned it now. Mum was an only child and there was only one other person who would have been eligible to take it…
My head shook hard. No, don't think about that, don't think about the pain. Focus on the job at hand, don't worry about people long dead! My shoulders trembled, a deep breath soothing the angered air building. Ventry would soon be here, one of the most western parts of Ireland. It stuck out on a narrow peninsula, nothing more than a few manors, holiday homes and farms. Nothing else of value here. Was the building in on piece? Did it have new owners? The answer haunted me, a shudder shaking my spine. Neither sat well with me. Both had their own complications.
"Where are we heading, Captain? Ventry is just ahead," Mari called. My knees pushed me up, quivering, as the rumbling shuttle shook me into the cockpit, landing hard on the co-pilot seat.
Ventry looked populated still. Not as much as it had been, not with the rising sea level. That alone set dread in my bones. The estate had been close to the coast… A few farms still scattered the hills and a few cottages had pushed back from the creeping sea, further from the coast. The estate itself, when my eyes found it, was underwater. My eyes squeezed shut, noting that one outbuilding had long since collapsed and the sea had reclaimed it. The old table tennis table used to be there… The house itself looked like it suffered from water damage, but with low tide in effect, it perched on dry land for now. No one lived in it now, the ruined walls and roof clinging on. While old, the building was a Shaik, stubborn to the core. Temporary barriers around the house fought to keep the sea out, but no one looked after the barriers. Holes and collapsed sections littered the barrier. The building looked stable despite the abuse from the sea. Damaged brick work, some minor roof damages but overall, the massive, red sandstone structure stood strong. It brought a little warmth to my broken heart.
"Right there, Mari, that massive building on the coast," I said, pointing towards the building. Mari frowned.
"The one… in the sea?" she asked. A dry smile spread on my lips.
"Pretty much. Mum always wanted a coastal view. I don't think she meant that close though," I said. A harsh 'ha' sounded from behind me, frowning at Shual. He didn't even look sheepish, the bastard!
"I'll drop you off and wait a little ways back, just in case the tide comes in. Radio when you're ready," Mari said. My head bobbed, hauling myself out of the seat. Indira patted my hip as I passed by her.
"No buzzing?" she asked. My ears twitched, focusing. Nothing, no buzzing, at least yet.
"None yet, I guess Kinlochleven had something to do with it? Let's… Let's just get this evidence and get out of here. If we run into the Saboteur, awesome, if not, we'll get them later," I said, more to myself to keep my head from tumbling.
The door clicked open as Mari hovered over the ground, my feet jumping down onto the sand. My crew followed me, Indira, Val and Mat'al at my flanks. The Paladin popped out into my hand, easing the unfamiliar gun into a comfortable position. While the pistol was similar to the Carnifex – an upgraded version to be exact – the grip wasn't identical. Or was that Val modifying it? As Mari took off, the doors of the manor lay before me, barnacles plastering the lower half of the door. My jaw tightened, clenching my teeth as the seaweed crunched under my feet, sand sweeping out from under me. Did the old gravel path remain under the sand or had the tide washed that away? My shoulder shoved into the door, the rusted hinges caving with a help from a krogan. After stumbling inside the building, salt air and rotted wood smashed into me. My determination dwindled. Small rock pools formed inside the building, sand piled high on the seaward walls. Doors had rotted away, paintings that had once decked the walls long gone, collapsing into the sea. Seaweed covered the marble staircase, the rotten material from above collecting where it could. The glass dome above my head stood as a twisted husk, the glass gone. Sand and gravel coated the floor, once marble and granite, only patches poked out.
The pain caused by nostalgia only vanished when an intense trails of footprints in the sand met my gaze. The barriers had done a well enough job of keeping the water out long enough to preserve the footprints. A knee collapsed, frown growing, examining them to find a species, if possible. They looked human, but one set was turian – the two toes and talons gave it away – and at least sets of 2 salarians. Their feet were so round it couldn't be anything else. Too many tracks over stepped themselves, figuring out their numbers proved impossible. They all blended into one. My teeth caught my lip as my legs straightened, Paladin tight in my hand. Anger burned, imagining the Saboteur in this old home of mine. My feet marched around to the right of the staircase, aiming for a door sheared off its hinges.
"I know you're here, Saboteur," I snapped. My eyes scanned the upper balconies of the first floor overlooking the ground floor. "And I know you know I'm here. Let's see how we play this, shall we?" My gaze fixed ahead, marching for the door. There was no way they could have missed the shuttle, if they were desperate to get into this vault, then they would be nearby. If they were still trying that is.
"This place is all forms of creepy," Indira said. A snort escaped
"It was less welcoming to the sea when I last here. C'mon, the Vault is in the rear ballroom," I said.
"Rear ballroom? You have more than one?" Val snorted. My gaze narrowed over my shoulder.
"This is an old Victorian manor that once held some of the most prestigious people in the world. Of course it has more than one ballroom!" I grumbled as we entered the old south lounge.
Nothing remained, although the sand piled higher here than in the main hall. Even the furniture was reduced to twigs. My head shook, keeping my face straight before pushing through the open doorway opposite me. The old south entrance, once a greenhouse towering with plants and glass on all sides, reduced to dust. The old shell that held the glass remained but the majority of it lay on the ground in pieces. Being exposed, it made getting through the door at the other end to reach the rear ballroom a pain for the taller members of the team as sand piled higher, shrinking the size of the door. The rear ballroom itself was in better condition, if only because someone cleaned it up. Cables ran everywhere, the old granite tiled floor had uplifted and thrown to the edges of the room to let cables dive into the floor. Someone had pulled the old bookcases along the walls away, exposing cables in the walls. We used this for parties or gatherings, sometimes as a storage room if we were redecorating. No furniture remained, just rotten wood and broken stone. A towering square block of metal clung to the back wall of the room. The vault. My feet stopped in front of the vault, the bookcase the metal face hid behind long rotted away.
"Marshal!" I called. A squeal snapped out my mouth as my drone buzzed to my side, bouncing. Shit! Didn't think of that! "No, Mar, not you," My hands grabbed the drone, holding it to my chest. My eyes turned to the metal wall, watching several black circles on the lower half of the wall swirl, focusing on me.
"Good evening, Miss Shaik. You look well, given the circumstances," a robotic, male voice called. A smile flicked up.
"Yeah well, I've been through some shit, Marshal- Goddam it Mar, not you!" I growled at the drone. A sigh escaped, already exhausted. "Open the Vault,"
"I cannot, Miss Shaik," Marshal said. My smile faded.
"Marshal, I'm giving you an order, and for fuck sake! Who knows how to deafen this drone for a few minutes?!" I snapped as Mar bounced out of my grip.
"Give him here," Val chuckled, taking the drone. Mar beeped, confused.
"Stay with Val, Mar," I said, turning to the vault once more. "Open the Vault,"
"Miss Shaik, I cannot. The Vault's Dead Man's bolts are active. I have no authority to override them myself. I will need one of the override codes to open it. Besides, even if I could open it, I would not. I told the young 'Shaik' to inform you not to come here," Marshal said.
"Gideon is a Shaik, you dumbass. You know, for an AI, you aren't all that outward thinking," I growled.
"Thank God," Henry muttered.
"I have several AI shackles in place, Miss Shaik. Had this been on my new server banks I could open the vault. However, I do not wish to tarnish Sir Shaik's work by over-writing his code. It has… sentimental value, for a lack of a better term. But Miss Shaik, I must bring your attention to the Saboteur-" Marshal said. My fingers rubbed my eyes.
"Which override codes, Marshal. There are at least 3 versions," I asked. "And fuck the Saboteur! We can handle it," Marshal fell silent for a time.
"Well, to further prove your identity, I will ask for version 1," Marshal said. Horror drained the blood from my system. My finger pointed at a camera.
"No! Absolutely not!" I snapped. My gaze snapped to my crew, a shudder consuming me. "Give me version 3! No, even version 2! I am NOT doing version 1! I've not done Irish dancing since I was 12 let alone mum's weird Irish, Scottish, tap thing! I don't even have any shoes that would fit me anyway!"
"That was what you chose for your override, Miss Shaik," Marshal remarked, amused.
"I was 8!" I thundered.
"I asked at the time if you were certain, Miss Shaik. You have the Shaik stubbornness however, Sir and Lady Shaik failed to convince you otherwise," Marshal retorted. My fingers twitched, he was serious, forcing me to… fuck!
"Fine, I'll see if there's any shoes lying around, you stubborn machine," I snarled, stomping towards the door on my left.
"Uh… Dell?" Val called. My head snapped around, blinking with dropped brows. After a second, my embarrassment eased enough to let me sigh. Dammit, don't forget the reason why this is so damn embarrassing! Damn this place!
"Alright, Val, Indira, with me. Everyone else, secure the room," I ordered, groaning before continuing on my path.
In the next room, everything had been obliterated. Part of the wall had collapsed and the sand had claimed the first 4 steps on the grand staircase. The ends of the manor mirrored each other, it just meant more to look after but it also meant we had one cleaning technique for the whole thing. My feet jogged up the slippy stairs, Val and Indira on my flanks. On the second floor, My feet sidled along the floor closest to the wall to ensure the weakened floor didn't collapse on me. Even then, Indira had to use her biotics to stabilise the walkway in order for us to advance. I aimed for one room in the core of the building while ignoring the destroyed decorative wooden panels that lined this once bright and spacious hallway. My feet jumped out of the shaken hallway and into my parent's room. If anywhere had hard Irish dancing shoes, they would be here. My room didn't interest me, nothing personal stayed in this house. Anything person always flew back to Scotland with me. Most of my time was spent in Kinlochleven. But my parents' room… God, there was still a picture frame, face down, on the rotted dresser in the corner. My hand reached out, swallowing the hard lump in my throat. The metal frame clattered as my hands turned it around. My lungs emptied.
It was a copy of my parents' wedding photo. It looked pristine, how had it survived this long in a rotting house? My blond father grinned with dark, almost ultramarine, blue eyes. He held my red haired mother under his shoulder, her mouth wide mid laughter, her green eyes masked behind eyeshadow. It had been raining that day, yet there they were, outside whatever their chosen venue was, soaked to the bone and laughing in true British Isles manner. My shoulders sagged as a tightness crawled up my throat, threatening to strangle me. We had been close, sure we battled like beats more often than not in my later years but… to feel my mother hug me and tell me it would be alright… My hand passed the frame to Indira, fingers tearing themselves off. as tears threatened to pour free and my lips trembled.
"I… I-I want to take that back to the Starquake …if possible," I asked, voice failing. Indira drew her brows together, determination setting her jaw.
"It'll get there, don't worry," she said. A weak smile spread before shaking my head, moving towards the wardrobe.
A large, metal box sat in the bottom of the worn out wardrobe, the metal box corroded on the outside but the interior was fine. It once had a wooden outer box to protect, which took the majority of the damage caused by time. Inside was half a dozen pairs of Irish dancing shoes. They were still in good condition too, the leather still moist. Mum had kept every pair of shoes she wore as she grew up. A pair of size 5 shoes appeared. My hand snatched them from the box before fleeing the room. My chest felt too tight, too… everything! Back in the rear ballroom, my crew separated out, watching all points of entry into the room. And all had a lovely view of my shambled performance to convince this damn AI to open the door. My rumbles echoed in the room as my armoured boots snapped off. The old leather shoes securing onto my feet. A stern glare traversed around the room as the distinctive click of the shoes sounded on stone. Alas, the AI forced my hand. With a grumble, one foot tapped against the stone, getting used to these damn shoes again. My nerves remembered why I quit dancing, I became too self-conscious. My eyes narrowed, facing the camera with determination flooding me. Marshal, realising how serious I was, activated the security key tracking system, a series of red lights zipped down the middle of safe.
The crew got comfy as my feet reminded me how much my childhood tortured me from this damn dancing. Despite doing this dance at every opportunity, bad experience drowned it in my mind. School shoes, festivals, whatever the event, my mum encouraged me to dance. Although, maybe it died when my dancing was beaten year after year in high school by a damn comedian. Prick did everything to put me down. At least he was dead now but still. My arms pinned to my sides as the sound of harsh tapping cracked through the air. My mind fought me, suppressing the rising memories of the steps for this damn dance. The hard Irish tap shoes banged like a shotgun on this floor. As the steps emerged, my calves burned, making me realise just how much flexibility I had lost. The memories surfaced from their dark crevice. Sniggers tickled the skies from my crew when my feet stumbled over a front click. Over, seven, cut, lift, seven, beat, bicycle, front click. The room filled with my screeches of frustration when the steps stumbled, which was every second step. An hour passed before my confidence allowed me to push the steps faster than the 70% speed my practice had been. My jaw tightened, teeth gnashed as pain radiated from my legs, the high kicks killing my hips.
And then it clicked. Despite the burn, my legs co-operated, remembering the steps themselves. They back clicked like my life depended on it, my legs flying more than they had for a long time. A smirk grew as the line of red lights turned green as my feet hit each step. My chin raised, the clicks growing louder with confidence. Buried memories could resurface! My lungs pleaded for air as my feet clicked silent, sweat dropping from chin like small rivers. The final red light turned green and loud thunks shattered the silence. My smug grin spread wide over my face. My hands tore the shoes off my feet, toes wriggling in relief to be free from the torture. The armoured boots pulled back on, the clicks settling my nerves. My legs pushed me up, quivering after their overuse. Then, after a gaze around the room, the glow of omni-tools caught my attention.
"You were not recording that!" I snapped. The omni-tools vanished.
"No," an innocent reply sounded from around the room.
"Bastards! I want those deleted right now, dammit!" I thundered. Not a single omni-tool opened. My furious roar brought laughter from some, although some looked a touch nervous about what I would do to them. My upper body doubled over from asphyxiation.
"Miss Shaik," Marshal called. My head snapped around to the metal door. "The dead man bolts have released. However, I am still unwilling to-"
"Marshal. If you don't open that fucking door in the next 10 seconds I am calling in a bomb squad and we'll see just how tough that fucking door is!" I snapped. "I have not embarrassed myself for nothing!"
"This thing doesn't like you, does it?" Mat'al laughed. His words only ground my teeth.
"No shit, Sherlock," I grumbled. Marshal sighed before me.
"I have been ordered to keep the safe sealed, Miss Shaik," Marshal said. "It hoped that you could not recall the override steps before backup arrived," My gaze narrowed, focusing on the camera on the door. Who had he… but he didn't listen to anyone other than- "However, for the sake of Sir and Lady Shaik, I believe… you have survived thus far, Miss Shaik. I doubt no sacrifices were made on your part. You have also fulfilled the needed requirements to open the Vault. It would be against my programming to deny you entry. But please, hurry Miss Shaik. My exterior cameras can see the Saboteur and their crew mobilising,"
"Mobilising? For fuck sake, give me details, Marshal!" I ordered as my feet jumped towards metal door, the massive wall of metal creaking open. The crew regrouped, Val's voice breaking over the silence like a wave.
"The Saboteur itself is a human female named Megan Prosser. Her Reaper is Keneiloe. She has 24 indoctrinated servants with her at present, but she is N7 operative and commands a much larger army. I do not recommend combat. Not only is she skilled but her SIA-SO means she can trick your senses, such as your eyes by using tiny shards of Reaper metal on her skin to reflect light," Marshal said as the vault surrounded me.
Massive shelves cramped into the small space with only a few narrow alleys were bare, darkened with no light above them. Only a small line of lights leading to a shelf halfway into the massive vault, about a third of the size of a football field, lit the dark space. Powering down the rows of shelves towards the lone light down the alley, skidding to turn before my body crashed into the shelves, turning down the hall. The only object left in this vault was… My eyes gawked, muscles frozen. Why was Travis' pain-in-the arse phone here?!
No, no time. My head shook, grabbing the phone, amazed it was in as good nick as it was, and slipped it into a pocket under my chest armour. No taking chases here. The answer to my disappearance lay inside this phone. My feet ran back through the vault towards the exit, ignoring how empty this once treasure trove was.
"W-What the hell is an SIC-SO?" I asked, exhaustion crawling through my body as the end of the mission drew near.
"It means Saboteur Induced Capability – Sense Overload. Call it a specialisation that allows the Saboteur to control the environment or their foes. All of the Commandos have one of 4; Physical Disablement, Mental Assault, Sensory Overload – of which Keneiloe lies in – and Tech Incapacitation. The Martyrs each have their own unique one, yours as far as we understand is Pheromone Control in which you can manipulate those around hormones and other chemicals," Marshal explained.
"And here I thought I was sweating indoctrination. And that explains what Alea did to my head!" I growled, leaping out of the Vault. The thought of having my senses screwed with didn't seem any less appealing. With this phone… "Everybody out! Forget this Saboteur, I need to know what this evidence is! Mari! Get over here quick!" I called into the radio.
"I'm on the way, Captain, but there is a large group heading towards us-" Mari said.
"I know! Put the shields up and ignore them. We're evac-ing!" I cried. The crew around me assembled. We ran out the left door, heading for the rear exit.
"Miss Shaik, who is Alea?" Marshal asked as my eyes counted the heads rushing past me through the doorway, eyeing the other doors.
"Alea Shae'kal, an asari Saboteur. Alea was on Thessia last month, that Matriarch is still alive," I said as Shual got stuck in the door. My hands grabbed his armour and pulled.
"This Saboteur is not known to us… do you know of any others?" Marshal asked. "Keneiloe is on the beach, approaching the house now,"
"Thanks Mar," I grunted as Shaul stumbled free. "I'd love to chat but we've no time though, we're gotta move!" I cried, darting out of the house and leading the crew along the beach, running east. Marshal's cries behind me died as the sounds of crashing waves on our right eroded his voice. The tide encroached on our escape.
Jarlan cried out in surprise behind me and tumbled to the sand. Instinct slammed the anchors on and within a second, my legs pushed back and sprinting in the opposite direction. The crew took a little longer to respond. Jarlan was on the sand, green blood pooling out from his thigh. Ahead of me, a 25 strong team ran after us to ruin our day. They opened fire on Jarlan. My teeth grit as my body collapsed over him as the hail of bullets descended. My shields shattered in seconds, my armour cracked with each bullet to the back. The bullets fell silent, my head still had value to the Saboteurs. My head lifted, the Paladin drawing in my hand, staring down the sight as my crew fanned out behind me. The human Saboteur wasn't hard to spot. The blue-black haired woman, cut short to a bob and stained red on the underside, stalked closer with an assault rifle drawn. Her hazel eyes, brown on the outside with a slash of green in the middle, were dead as she approached. Her black armour carried the N7 insignia and the traditional red and white stripe down the right arm.
"Commando Keneiloe, I presume," I said, reaching back to loop my arm under Jarlan's shoulders. The salarian trembling beneath me. Megan flicked a smile.
"I am, such a pesky little AI that you have there. I've been trying for 20 years to get that thing open. You come along and only take an hour. I should have called you sooner," the smile vanished, eyebrows drawn tight together. "Give me the evidence, Endellion,"
"Fuck you," I snapped. Rain splattered into my eyes, making me blink. My eyes no longer focused on her, unable to track her now. A snarl formed.
"I won't ask again, Endellion. Give me the evidence and I won't mow down your little friends," Megan threatened.
"I'm getting too old for this shit," Drutus grumbled. A sharp snort escaped.
"How about now, Saboteur? Also, I don't like you things using my name. It's creepy as fuck," I snapped, shaking my head at the white noise crackling in my ears. Megan's expression didn't falter.
"Very well, you've made your choice," she said. My eyes narrowed, jaw grit tight as my arms pulled dragged Jarlan closer, away from the incoming rain of death. "Fire on the bare-faced!"
"Oh fuck you-" Val roared. His words died when an explosion kicked up the sand next to Megan. The Saboteur swung around, back to the house. My jaw dropped.
A small army of mechs marched towards them, some packed rocket launchers. Despite the uneven terrain, the LOKI mechs marched on, providing cover fire for us to flee. They attention focused on Megan and her servants. My eyes snapped skywards as a glint caught my eye. A shuttle swung around, painted in purple and dark grey, aiming for the beach behind us. My teeth grit as my arms pulled Jarlan over my shoulders, holstering the Paladin. My knees quivered as they took his weight.
"Put down smoke bombs! Let's get out of here! Move it!" I cried over the explosions.
God bless my team, 12 canisters of smoke bombs flew through the air, creating a massive smokescreen as we sprinted for the hovering shuttle. With Jarlan over my shoulders, my legs hobbled towards the shuttle. We piled in, Shual hauling me in with my additional load, grinning. My pride stung, but the captain didn't. The 30cm hop without help would've been difficult, my muscles weren't the strongest. Drutus and Mat'al hopped in last. They slammed the door shut.
"Go, Mari, go! Get back to Glasgow double time!" I demanded.
"Aye, aye!" Mari cried, swinging the shuttle around. The force unsettled my balance until Saldan and Anthon grabbed me, keeping me upright. Craning my neck around to the hologram window, watching the battle rage on the beach. Megan's gaze fixated on the disappearing shuttle. A frown formed. Just for pettiness, my tongue stuck out in her direction.
The Saboteur Sheet has been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.