In the office chair, the relative safety of my room granted me a moment to bury my face into my hands, doubling over myself. My lungs dragged in air as if at high altitude, struggling to find enough oxygen to function. A cold sweat clinging to my skin worsened my mood. The mountain of documents demanding my attention skimmed past my weary eyes, my drive to complete them dead. 3 days since the double Saboteur attack and my ship refused to function, that included myself. My stomach rattling me enough to pursue food, legs quivering under my weight. They all but trudged down the hall. Mat'al's door caused pause, the salarian vanished from the galaxy, holed up in his room with naught to say. What caused his depression remained a mystery, but he lay limp on the bed, oblivious to the world and to our cries. His eyes held no life.
My eyes drifted to Gideon's door as it passed. Nyryntha rumbled, a blade twisting as a memory surfaced. The last time I tried to talk to him… my hand found my head, the sounds vivid as Nyryntha forced me to relive it. The screaming, the anguish, the sharp pain from the thrown objects. Every kid says 'I hate you' to their parents at some point. None could be like this; nothing can prepare any parent for the outright fury of their child. The knowledge you caused their agony, even if it was to protect them, stung worse than any bullet. He meant it, he meant it. How many children say they want to you to die, to vanish? None until now said they want to see you lose to your Reaper. The scratches on my arm itched, fingers twitching as the urge to scratch them rose, to pick the scabs off. Again. A small collection of tools gathered near his door, his collection of new throwing items we had gathered and confiscate. No one could get close, Shayan and me however, topped the list. Either of us walking in would cause half the room hurling our way. My hands cupped the back of my neck as the elevator closed around me.
Down in the kitchen area, few members of the crew remained. Lunch wasn't for another hour, not that my body clock worked these days. A sachet of rations grabbed my attention, a quick meal. The steam from the kettle held my gaze as my heavy arm poured the required volume of hot water into it, sealing it. We had better food. This was just emergency military rations from before I bought the good stuff, but the effort to prepare something was too great and our cooks were on-duty. They wouldn't be here for another 15 minutes. My omni-tool timer ticked down, allowing me time to pace around the kitchen, to ignore the looks from what few crew remained here. My eyes lifted towards the bar beyond the elevator, but I knew they locked it from me. Val had given everyone a new code and had Shayan hijack the lock to make sure my Captain codes couldn't work. Alcohol was off the menu without strict permission.
My omni-tool buzzed, stirring me into action. The ration popped open, the burning steam tickling my fingers as I teased it apart with a spoon. The smell of porridge wafted up. A mouthful later, my arse landed on a chair. My stomach grumbled, twisted until pain consumed me. It doubled me over the table, moans escaping as it cramped. It threatened to retch. My forehead pressed to the cold tabletop, shivering my flushed skin. My appetite vanished, the sachet abandoned on the table. I prayed my stomach held off long enough not to throw up.
"Captain?" A voice called. My head flopped to one side, Frank, Veshin, Zar and Veracia blinked down at me. A moaned droned and my head slumped back.
"As you were," I said.
"Have you eaten?" Frank asked, lifting the sachet. He earned groan in answer. Frank scowled. "You need to eat, Captain. We can't have two XOs down and our captain. Look, we'll cook your something proper; you'll not survive on this shit,"
"I'm fine," I mumbled.
"Uh huh, try telling us that when your head off the table. You've not chosen a new XO and both you and Gideon aren't eating. You are the last person we need breaking down," he pressed. I could do little as the crew set to work.
The grain of the fake wooden tables held my gaze, eyes glazing. They were right; I had to pick a new XO. But who? There was no one else! Val fought tooth and nail against it, even begging didn't work. It made me guilty for making him feel guilty for saying no. The responsibility of XO terrified him, it was common knowledge. That was what the turian army had done to him, shattered his confidence and burned his trust. He tolerated the Commander position because he didn't have to juggle people who weren't in his team, he could pass those who weren't onto their commander. As an XO, he had to know what every single person did and juggle that on top of other managerial jobs. The last thing I needed was to drive him from my bed, his company kept me sane when the Reaper nightmares relinquished their grasp. Another mass promotion spree was off the table too, the Council would see it and question whether I had fallen to indoctrination or not. Action had to take place, but the only people available for the position were the Spectres. I couldn't trust Indira and SHayan with the responsibility… ok that was harsh. They weren't ready for the responsibility. Saria had been a consideration, but the asari informed me she had no experience leading a ship. Algenis had even less. That left me with Drutus or Marruns. After that training session, Marruns was welcome to stay as far away from any power position and me as possible.
A Spectre is such a powerful position terrified me. They were here to keep an eye on me, to feed back any information I had not clamped down on to the Council. Marruns in particular would spy on everything, waiting for an opportunity to throw my ass back in jail. And he jeered at every opportunity during Drutuss training. No, he would work his ass off to undermine me in any way possible. That left Drutus. There were no qualms with the admiral, don't get me wrong, but he was a helluva strict man. If Mat'al was bad, Drutus was worse. He managed entire fleets, for fuck sake. The heel of my hand buried into my eye. Perhaps… that was a good thing. My management of the Starquake sustained me enough for the Council to mention nothing, but whether it was the right way to do things was another matter. Maybe there was an easier way to what I was doing… Marshal bounced to my side, a message of an incoming call. The Council. A whine leaked.
"Tell them I'll call them back in a few minutes," I sighed, pushing myself up on my feet.
"Not until you eat, Captain," Frank called. My hand already waved off his complaint.
"I'll only be a few minutes," I said. Frank scowled as downtrodden feet carted me into the elevator. On the upper floor, my hands found my hair as my room approached me. What had happened this time? What would they blame on me now? The door parted, the phone already ringing. My fingers touched the console as I slumped against the desk behind me. The four Councillors flashed before me. It required more effort than normal to lift my head towards them. The four set of frowns did not bode well.
"Are you well, Captain? We have been trying to contact you for several days," Tevos started, noting my ragged appearance. My head shook, my half-wild hair spinning.
"No," I said. My shoulders sagged as my hand ran through my hair. "No, I'm not,"
"I see… Well, I am afraid we do not carry better news. A batarian colony has gone silent. Leaked reports suggest it was a bloodbath. There was another message directed to you, Captain," Sparatus said, a frown creasing his face. My head flopped to my chest. Another one? Why were they targeting colonies now? Why leave such blatant messages?
"We get little information on the batarians. How the hell were we meant to know?" I asked.
"It is your job to know, Captain. We cannot have entire colonies slaughtered. It is unacceptable. You have reported no new Saboteur activity since Palaven," Udina scolded. A frown developed, my face scrunching up. Ah... that's what I forgot to do.
"We've killed a salarian and geth Saboteur 3 days ago, actually," I said. The four straightened.
"And you neglected to mention this because?" Udina demanded, although my glower sent the man shuffling.
"Because I'm 2 XOs down, my son wants me dead and a Saboteur and an AI invaded my ship. I've been more than a little stressed, Councillors," I growled. "I'll forward the details when my head is straight,"
"Ah, I see. Well, in light of this news, we cannot fault you for neglecting the batarians. After all, destroying 2 Saboteurs at once is more important than a single Saboteur," Valern glanced to the Tevos, the asari trying to read my broken body.
"You must understand our position, Captain. The Saboteurs are now attacking our most vulnerable colonies. You are the only one who can help us. You are the only one who knows what to look for, the only ones the Saboteurs reveal themselves to when questioned. Until now, we feared that your lack of progress was in part to…" Tevos trailed. My head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
"…You think I'm indoctrinated, that my Reaper has won?" I asked.
"We must prepare for such an eventuality, Captain," Valern said. "You use this RIT, but your reports suggest that the time required to reverse the indoctrination is growing. There will come a time when the time taken to reverse will outweigh time you work,"
"I am myself, Councillors," I growled. "And I apologise that I am organic and my team is. We are working as damn hard as we can. We can't catch everything,"
"That isn't good enough, Captain," Udina stressed. "Thousands of lives vanish from the galaxy when your teams fail in their duties. What's to say your team is missing 95% of the clues that a Saboteur is as work?"
"We aren't machines, Councillor. I only have a 10 man Intel team!" I snapped.
"And what of the rest of your crew, what of your friendly Saboteur? What of this 'Julian Shaik' fellow, he has a substantial army, he must have vast resources," Valern added.
"My combat team is keeping the Starquake prepped for battle, as what saved us a few days ago. The engineering team keep my ship running; my science teams are improving the RIT, indoctrination prevention shields and detect Saboteurs at a distance with no need to query the Saboteurs to tip us off. My friendly Saboteur is trying to lay low. He's alone; he doesn't want to put anyone else in danger. And my other contact, substantial he may be, but he only gives me pieces he has verified. He doesn't like giving me false positives without reason," I said.
"Then I suggest you get your friend to share this information. Shaik, we are running out of time," Sparatus pressed.
"I'm doing what I can, Councillors. We well know time is growing short and I do not need constant reminding. I've noticed none of your people has found any traces of the Saboteurs recently. Why should we be any different?" I demanded. The Councillors remained silent. "I rest my case. Kindly fuck off," I growled my fist smashed into the end call button. My hand reached for the chair before my knees caved, my other hand pulling my hair.
Another colony gone, batarian this time. Even Julian had nothing on the batarian Saboteurs. The Council were desperate to find something, anything, to whip me into action. Did they expect me to find every Saboteur in the next month or something? My head sagged against the headrest, air dragged into my lungs. There were too many problems and no solutions. What were we to do? We pushed the intel team beyond their limits. There were already enough problems dragging them away from their desks at night. 'One more source' would turn into 5 hours of additional work. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't healthy and I didn't know what to. My eyes skimmed a datapad, Indira's last report scrolling by. Not enough hands, too much data to process, hardware restrictions, insufficient pattern algorithms, software unable to learn faster than Saboteurs strikes, links between information to abstract for machines, too spread apart for organics, too many false positives, too much unrelated trash. The list went on. Our software couldn't find the subtle links between news stories or system updates, which could be months apart from each other. My eyes drifted, landing on the pile of cube-like servers between the bathroom, the starboard wall and the upper tier. My hands covered my eyes. Another problem to deal with.
Shayan had found traces of this AI on Gideon's computer, both omni-tools, these servers, that sleeve Shayan identified as a bunch of tiny hyper threaded servers, the visor and that FENRIS mech. Only the server sleeve and the main servers held the AI, everything else was just remnants the AI could connect through. Even though the AI had access to the mech, the mech lay deactivated while Shayan and the other engineers pulled Gideon's room apart. No one knew how long he had had it, we knew it came from the Constellation. My call to Julian brought no comfort and more anger. He smiled and remarked that Gideon keeping it a secret for as long as he did impressed him. He explained what she was, this 'Kala'. Julian designed it to do what Marshal did now; running the Constellation, shifting through any unusual news, monitoring the crew, defending the fleet, counteracting Reaper code. He dumped her because he discovered Marshal was still functional and reprogrammed him instead. My tongue clucked. Gideon had it for at least 3 and a half months, but he could have had it as early as March, when Julian kidnapped us and took us to the Constellation.
We couldn't work like machines… but we couldn't fight machines that tried to hack our systems. This AI, despite Shayan's continued warnings, had saved us. Without that damn AI fighting off the geth/Reaper hijacking, the scientists would be dead from smoke inhalation. Now they just had to take it easy for a few days. Gideon tried to reverse what the Saboteur was doing but the Saboteur overpowered him. We would be dead without the AI, as painful as that was to admit. Gideon, as young as he was, was our fastest programmer and hacker, the Intel team told me. Now I knew why. The AI trained him. And Julian's words about what it could do was temping beyond words. It could do the job of the intel team, or at least find links and send them to the intel team to investigate further. An AI could learn faster and more efficiently than a VI, it might handle abstract thought. My eyes scanned the equipment, running my thumb over the tips of my fingers.
With the Council on my ass, my teams working at max capacity and the Saboteurs on the offensive, we had to consider countermeasures. For the Council, finding Saboteurs. My teams needed something to ease the burden. For the Saboteurs, killing them quick. I found my feet, hand reaching for the main AI omni-tool. The band gleamed in the light, my jaw tightened. Was I considering… there had to be another way. To put this back in… but there was no other options. My resources were strained enough as it was. I didn't know enough about AIs, I just knew they were trouble if they went rogue. My hand trembled, clenching the band. Julian programmed it, he wouldn't program something that was dangerous, would he? And he allowed Gideon to keep it. If it was a danger to me, he would have destroyed it when he discovered it. No, Julian would not have let him keep something that would hurt me. My resolve hardened. Back at my desk, my hand upheaved the contents of a drawer until it pried open a small box. Two straps of material popped free. Content, I marched down the hall. There was no other choice, end of the line. And perhaps this would cure two problems in one... or three. A drew a breath, what could be my last, outside of Gideon's door. Time to test the weight of my balls. The door parted.
Shayan had cleaned up and returned everything to its original place, but nothing had stirred. Gideon lay curled on his bed, back to the room. His body tensed as he heard the door. The sound of stifled tears wrenched my heart. Mindful of the ground, navigating a path required caution. Tools, bits of wire, metal and the odd bag of screws lay strewn across the floor. The previous ammunition to drive people away. Gideon's body turned rigid as I cleared my throat. My mouth opened to speak, but Gideon shoved himself up, a pair of wire cutters already raised in hand, he spun to throw them. Frantic, my hand flung the omni-tool into view, taking a step back to bounce out of the way. His eyes landed on the omni-tool. He froze. His eyes slid to mine, wire cutters still in hand. My chest tightened, breath frozen in my throat.
"Can you control it?" I asked. Gideon stared, wide eyed as he tried to understand. My teeth gnashed. "Can you control it?" I repeated. Gideon lowered the wire cutters, shuffling as he huddled in the corner.
"K-Kala?" he asked. My head bobbed. "Y-Yeah. I-I can control her,"
"Good," I tossed the omni-tool to him, restraining my reaching fingers. Gideon's eyes followed it. He dived for it, snatching it out the air. The yellow omni-tool burst into life seconds later. Gideon's tension eased as he studied it, text already scrolling past. Text I knew wasn't a boot-up menu. "Stand up," I said. Gideon snapped to face me, eyes narrowing. His eyes flicked from me to the floor before he shuffled to the edge of his bed, shambling to his feet. Gideon tensed as he watched me approach, hand covering the omni-tool. My hand took hold of the strap on his shoulder, unbuttoning the end. One of the fabric strips collected earlier slid on, fingers stumbling to secure it. Gideon gawked at the black strap, the end coloured gold as my hands secured the second on his other shoulder. His eyes found me as I took a step back.
"Consider yourself enlisted," I said. Gideon's eyes bulged. "You're the ship's AI Handler. That thing goes mental and I swear to every deity in the galaxy I will disown you and rip up your adoption certificate," I threatened. Gideon swayed, mouth floundering. "You'll be working with the Intel team. You'll be digging through every goddamn piece of information we get our hands on to find anything odd, or patterns we've missed. And to be clear," I raised a finger. "That thing does not go on the Starquake's servers unless it is a damn emergency, do I make myself clear?"
"Y-Yes," Gideon wheezed.
"Yes what?" I demanded. Gideon jolted.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!" he saluted.
"Good. Now I have a salarian XO to deal with. If you want those servers back, they're in my room," I turned to leave. Gideon shuffle after me.
"W-What do you mean? I-Is Sassy ok?" he asked. A frown flitted across my face. Of course, he wouldn't know. The pair of them had holed themselves inside their rooms at the same time.
"No. He's been mute for days, hasn't eaten a damn thing. He just lies there like a log. Nothing we do snaps him out of it," I sighed. Gideon glanced up the hall to Mat'al's room, chewing his lip.
"I… I think I know what's wrong," he said. My feet froze, eyes snapping to him. He pouted his lips as he thought, ignoring me. He mumbled to himself for a moment. "Are… Are still around that planet the Saboteurs were on?"
"We are," I said.
"Can I take a shuttle down there?" he asked.
"What? No! There's geth down there!" I balked.
"I-I'll only be 10 minutes! T-There's something I need to pick up, you can send people with me!" Gideon said. My frown deepened. What of value could be down on that damn planet? My shoulders sagged as a sigh ripped free.
"Fine, I'll arrange a small team," I grumbled. "I don't see what this-"
"Also, c-can I borrow some money? I-I have a plan but it's ah… a bit out of my price range," he shuffled.
"We'll put a requisition in for it," I sighed as my journey up the hall continued.
"Uh… well, i-it needs Spectre access s-so it's easier to go through a Spectre," Gideon said. My toes spun to face him, expression slack. "I-It's for Sassy! I swear it's for Sassy! Please, please! …Please trust me," he asked with upturned eyebrows. My eyes narrowed, air forced from my lungs.
"Fine," I grumbled. His expression brightened, the last of the tension easing from his shoulder.
"Ok, now I just need to talk to Drutus and Anthon. Drutus is the nicer one, I think," Gideon muttered. The boy sprinted off down the hall, my head shook as I watched.
"And get something to eat, dammit!" I called after him. Gideon tripped, staggering to stay upright as he slammed headfirst into the elevator door. Every muscle in me twisted. He shook his head and crawled inside, offering a sheepish smile as he pushed the button on his knees. The breath that staggered out released the tension, and reminded me how clumsy the boy could be.
2 days passed with no change. Gideon had journeyed back down to the planet's surface and returned less than an hour later. No geth encounters, for which my heart is thankful. He spent the remaining time getting his room reorganised again. In the meantime, Shayan gave me an earful about letting an AI run loose. Untold dangers, not learning from the quarians, not listening to his warnings, hijacking systems. While impressed by his sudden backbone to defy me, there weren't enough fucks to give at this point. Every edge we got our hands on is crucial if we want to keep the Council off our asses and save as many lives as possible. Time would tell if I made the right the choice. Now waiting in my room, Gideon finished whatever 'project' he worked on to help Mat'al. What had the boy learned, or seen, to make him so certain this would work was beyond me. The salarian was eating, but he was dead in every other sense though. My sigh drained my lungs.
"Ok mum," Gideon called from the hall. He grunted, followed by a loud thud. A frown developed, concern rising as my feet carried me to the hall. My frown deepened at the sight. Gideon dragged two cases up the hall. The mech, Kala, trotted by his side, a bottle of alcohol tucked inside a satchel at her side. Flakes of paint decked parts of her metal, remains of attempted painted designs later scrapped. My hands grabbed a case as he stumbled. The hefty weight dragged my arm down, but my shoulder held. He couldn't lift the second case at all.
"And this is?" I asked.
"If this doesn't work, nothing will," Gideon wiped his brow. "Ok, if he does nothing, try giving him this one," he pointed to the lighter case in my hand. "If he talks, then you can give him this one," he shoved the second one to me. "Anthon got me a bottle of salarian rum. He says Sassy's partial to it," My mouth opened to protest giving alcohol to a half-starved salarian, but ended up sighing. At this point, I would try anything. Gideon slipped two glasses into one of my pockets, before taking the bottle from Kala, slipping it into one of my deeper thigh pockets at my thighs. My hand grasped the second case. It pulled my shoulder, threatening to dislocate it. My jaw tightened as pain radiated, but my legs powered towards Mat'al's room.
"Good luck, Captain," Kala said as she strut away, Gideon tearing after her, calling her to wait for him
The deadened room sent shivers along my shoulders, the only light radiating from the nearby sun in the window. Mat'al sprawled on the bed, limp and lifeless. Mat'al's room remained spotless, bare of any kind of decoration. He preferred to keep his quarters professional, but now some character would comfort me. My shoulders celebrated as the cases lowered next the bed, my eyes scanning Mat'al's face. Mat'al didn't even blink. His eyes remained lost to the galaxy, breathing but ignoring me as I lowered myself to the bed. My hand reached out to turn on the bedside light. Mat'al blinked a few times, his only sign of life. The bottle and glasses found a space on the bedside table.
"Not going to say anything, Mat'al?" I asked. Mat'al blinked, head relaxing back in the pillow. My heart thundered, grabbing the lighter case. I had to get his attention before he disappeared again. "Gideon got you something, said you might want it back," I said as the case flew open.
I stared. His old Mantis lay in pieces, although it looked like someone tried to piece some of it back together again. With gentle hands, main body of the sniper slipped out the case, turning it over. It was a wreck, the internal motors had exploded after the mass effect projectile erupted. My eyes glanced to Mat'al. His eyes locked onto the Mantis, head turned to view it. My teeth caught my lip, easing the sniper down near his hand. His head followed it. Mat'al's arm twitched, dragging itself towards it. He grasped what remained of the barrel. The grip tightened. His body trembled. A lump snagged in my throat as tears filled his eyes. He dragged it close, clinging to it as quiet sobs quaked his lithe frame. My hand found his shoulder, but I remained powerless to help him. The salarian rum caught my eye. My hand snatched it and a glass. The cork popped, dragging Mat'al's attention to me. He jolted with each hiccup. I offered the glass. Mat'al stared at it, thin rivers down his cheeks. He pried a hand free, hand shaking as he reached for it. He needed help to roll over onto his stomach. The drink vanished down his throat. He coughed in a fit, head buried in the pillow. My body trembled as time ticked by. He dragged the breathing under control, gasping. He raised the glass to me. The brown liquid refilled the glass. He downed it again, but he only coughed once. He heaved air into his lungs.
"Wheel weave," he rasped. Hope bubbled. "What kind of rum is that?"
"Talat Reserve. Anthon got it," I said. Mat'al coughed, but struggled out a short laugh.
"Anthon can't tell a good rum from a Reaper hooker," Mat'al said. A laugh strained free. He pressed the body of the Mantis to his chest.
"Guess… that sniper meant more to you than I thought. You always had it with you," I said. Mat'al blinked at the pillow. He turned to the case. He reached out and dragged it closer, looking at the remains inside.
"Someone tried to fix it," he wheezed.
"Gideon probably. He went back down on the planet to pick it up," I said. Mat'al's head bowed, but the faintest of smiles tickled the corners of his mouth.
"He's a good boy… he's a really good boy," he muttered. A smile lifted my lips, pride warming my shivering heart. Mat'al heaved himself up, swaying as he sat on the bed. He held up the glass.
"I thought you said it was shit," I noted as the bottle tipped more into the waiting glass. He snorted.
"Rum is rum, shit or not. And I won't turn down a drink," he sighed.
"Rule 8, huh?" I smiled. He flicked an answering smile.
"Yes indeed," he sighed, drinking half the glass. "Never did make it that far with Gideon,"
"Please don't turn my son into an alcoholic. I'm still getting used to the idea of an AI in his possession," I grumbled.
"So you found out," he murmured. A frown snapped my mouth down. He sighed. "Found out when I trained him. It had possessed a FENRIS mech, let the boy ride it since the heat finally beat him," I turned away. "What do you plan to do with it?"
"He's enlisted now. AI Handler, he'll be with intel trying to pick up what we miss," I said. Mat'al smiled.
"He'll be happy to have something to do," he said. I hmmed in agreement. Mat'al swirled the rum in the glass, staring at the golden hue as his mind wandered. His hand stroked the Mantis. "Dell, do you believe in ghosts?" he asked. My body jolted, jaw slackening.
"What? Uh… Well uh… I don't know. Kinlochleven certainly put the fear of hell into me," I said, frowning at the salarian. His eyes focused on the rum. "Why?" Mat'al smiled.
"So you didn't see him," he said.
"Who?" I asked. Sassy smacked his lips, taking another large mouthful of rum.
"I'm not from a strong line, Dell," Mat'al sighed. "Breeding rights for my family go along the lines of 'if we can get someone, anyone, go for it'. I was no different. I was once young and fit, powering through the STG ranks. It helped bring my family line into a strong position, to improve our family. We bartered with the Kanin Bloodline. I had a son…" he stared at the glass, the faint tints of gold remaining. With a laden tongue, I topped it up. "Zarhall Delern. When I first laid eyes on him… I think I understood perfection then. Make no mistake, he had problems. He… suffered from stunted growth at birth. Wheel weave, I spent 90% of my pay checks on genetic treatment for him. But he was worth it, with every fucking credit. Boundless energy, the curiosity the likes you've never seen, adventurous, tenacious. His mother never stuck around long enough to see it though. She signed another contract with a stronger family, said my blood caused his deformity. For the sake of her own bloodline, she abandoned him to me, I never saw her again. He wasn't even 3 months year old. Wheel, he tried so hard. He only wanted to make me proud, even though it was impossible for me to be prouder. He kept trying to prove me wrong," he smiled, the tears returning. "Zarhall wanted to follow in my footsteps, wanted to become a leading STG agent. I tried to talk him out of it but he refused to listen. He wanted to help me make our family great again.
"I trained him. Or, tried to at least. When he enrolled with the STG, they called him soft. My methods were not… strict enough. He struggled, nearly got thrown out at one point. He worked his little ass off, desperate to make me proud. I kept trying to train him, but whenever he got hurt, I couldn't… I couldn't continue. He was the only light in my life, I didn't want him hurt. The STG training got him up to their standards, no thanks to me. When he went out of his first mission, I fretted. Didn't sleep for a week. When he returned… the light in his eyes… there are no words. He became an agent, travelled the stars, found something to satisfy that boundless curiosity of his. Wheel, the stories he sent back. Then, when he came back from a mission on Rannadril, he had a…" Sassy turned to the sniper in his hand. His fingers tightened.
"He gave you this Mantis," I breathed. Mat'al nodded, eyes to the bed below him.
"He said, 'You need something for range, dad, you can't stay close forever. You're getting older'. Oh he fussed. I… I never trained in snipers before then, nothing beyond basic training. But he bought me this damn gun, wanted to see me use it. I didn't want to disappoint him. So I practised, every day he was gone. When he came home, when he saw me using it… I-I can't describe the joy on his face, it just… glowed. I had a long way to go, but I used it. Then… Nasurn-" he covered his eyes with his hand. His shoulders jittered with the tears that dripped onto the duvet. "Dammit, I killed him. I shot too quickly, I panicked, I missed, I… I…" his voice failed. My hands grappled him, yanking him closer. The rum spilt over me but Mat'al was what mattered. His soaked face pressed into my shoulder, shoulders trembling.
"You did everything you could, Mat'al," I said. He jerked air into his lungs.
"I panicked. The Blood Pack were everywhere. He broke his leg, tried to crawl to safety. A krogan… bared down on him. I-I panicked, couldn't aim for shit, I-I shook so much, I missed, I-I couldn't reload in time. This… this is all I have left of him," he wept, doubling over the Mantis.
"You did everything you could. God, Mat'al, I had Drutus pinning me to the wall by my throat when you told me about Gideon's shuttle going down. I couldn't breathe. I know what it's like," I pressed. My arms squeezed him tight, not caring if I broke something. Mat'al sobbed, unable to speak. One hand squeezed my shoulder until it creaked. Ignoring the pain, my concentration remained on Mat'al, trying to bring him some form of comfort as the memories haunted him. The minutes ticked by, the rum burned my nose but stubbornness held me still. His sobbing eased, though he still refused to let go. He had to move away from those memories, to something else. "What does this have to do with ghosts…? Did you see him?" He nodded.
"With you," he wheezed. My muscles froze.
"I'm… sorry?" I blanched.
"On Feros," he dragged a breath in, pulling away. He pressed the heels of his hand to his eyes. "He was with you on Feros. That's why I helped you,"
"I… What… was he doing?" I asked, reeling. Mat'al's arms dropped. He grabbed the bottle and glass and poured himself another.
"Pushing you, kicking you, trying to drag you, shaking you, shouting at you," Mat'al shook his head as he took a drink. My jaw dropped. "He wanted to help you, he didn't want you to be afraid. He was like that, always pushing people through whatever terrified the shit out of them. Zarhall didn't believe there was any fear too difficult to best. I never even took notice of you until I saw him, trying to shake some sense into you. I wondered 'Why you, why a human? Why now?'. I'll never get the answers… but maybe I don't need them," he sighed. "Zarhall wanted to help you. If he was putting so much effort into… into staying in this world to help you. I couldn't stand by. He couldn't influence you, but I could,"
"That's why you trained me…" I breathed. Mat'al nodded.
"It… certainly made my life more interesting, I'll give him that," he smiled. My eyes shifted to the box on the floor. Now was a good time. My shoulders whined as they dragged it over. Mat'al glanced over, blinking at the black case. To prevent further damage, I pushed the Mantis to the back of the bed. That was the last thing I needed damaged. Or damaged any further. On my feet, my teeth set as the box heaved onto the bed. Mat'al frowned as he put the glass down on the bedside table. He looked up as my shaken knees lowered me back to the bed.
"For you," I said. Mat'al's eyes drifted down.
He shuffled the Mantis onto his lap, his hands reached for the case, lying it on its side. He flicked up the clips sealing it, easing the lid up. Inside, a large, black brick sat inside, surrounded by foam. Mat'al blinked, hands pulling it free. He clicked something. A huge barrel popped free, a handle and stock popping out. The sniper, a good 1.5x bigger than the Mantis, clicked into place. Mat'al turned the gun in his hands, studying it. He turned to me.
"A Black Widow? The only gun more difficult to get than this is your Locust," he said.
"Well, we have Spectres onboard, may as well make them useful," I grinned. "Besides, I need my slow ass pot-shotter back in action, may as well give him something to help him along," Mat'al coughed out a laugh. He jabbed me in the shoulder with the barrel. My shoulder jerked back, but a squeal broke free as my seating slipped from me and send me tumbling to the floor. Mat'al smirked down at me.
"I'm still able to hit more than you in the same space of time, Miss Spray-and-Pray," he retorted.
"Oh fuck you," I snapped from my place on the floor. Mat'al smiled. He leaned the Widow on his lap.
"I'll… be back on duty soon. I just… need some time," he sighed. My hands dragged me from the floor.
"Mat'al, I'm not expecting you to start immediately. You've got old wounds reopening. I will not drag you out," I scolded. Mat'al chuckled.
"Zarhall would, telling me to get my act together," he said.
"Well, maybe I will too if you reach the bottom of that bottle and act like an idiot or an ass," I scowled. He blinked, a smirk growing. The Black Widow lay on the bed, Mat'al reaching for the other glass and his own. He passed me the empty one. Sweat broke out as he filled it. "I shouldn't drink…" I said.
"Oh? Put off after your little drinking spree in the shower?" he asked. A flush stained my cheeks. "I'm sure the ball and chain will let you have one drink," he said.
"Yeah, I know what it's like with you. One drink becomes 100," I frowned. He smirked.
"Not enough rum here for 100, not even 100 shots. Although it is shit rum, I'm doing you a favour by educating you on what not to drink," he chuckled.
"But all rum tastes like shit," I scrunched up my face. Mat'al raised a brow. He bent down to s drawer in the bedside table. My body tensed as he pulled out a pistol. The ammo light was red; live ammo.
"Down it," he said. My mouth flopped open. "Rule number 5, no hesitation," he sang. My jaw clamped shut, eyes to the glass, then to the gun. It clicked. The rum vanished down my throat. The sharp taste burned me throat, throwing me into a gagging fit, clawing at the air as my throat scorched, the glass forgotten. My lungs forgot how to function as they wheezed, falling back on the bed to roll in agony. Mat'al laughed.
"It burns! It fucking burns!" I gaped. Mat'al smirked.
"Oh come now, it doesn't burn enough. That's why it's a shit rum," he chuckled. A scream tried to sound, but it only wheezed into a whine.
The Fact Sheet has been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.
A/N: I've done some reshuffling of the chapters from Homecoming, so the total chapter count has dropped (again). I'm also in the process of doing more edits to the books, and I should hopefully move onto Book 2 soon, although at the rate I'm going at, the Book 3 edits are going to take priority. Nearly finished with Revenant! Less than 7 chapters left!