Events of the chapter: Garrus & Wrex stake out a warehouse in Paris; Shepard dodges a reporter; Kaidan speaks with Garrus about Paris and enlists Miranda's help
CHAPTER 11: The Radicle, Part II
9 months after the Reaper War
the outskirts of Paris, Earth
Crouched beneath a narrow window at the back entrance, Wrex and his men waited for word from the turian strike team at the other end of the warehouse. A sign on the high-rise next door blinked intermittently—Première Défense in vivid, red block letters—the light reflecting off puddles and interfering with Wrex's peripheral vision.
Wrex whispered into his commlink, "How much longer Garrus? My old knees can't take much more of this."
The rain was starting to come down harder. It drummed the surface of the alleyway, pitting the crushed granite.
"Just finalizing positions," replied Garrus.
Wrex clutched his shotgun to his chest and listened. He was tempted to peer through the window but knew better than to satisfy his curiosity. It was too dark; there were no lights on inside the building and the clouds had blotted out the moon.
At the front entrance, water was collecting in the cowl of Garrus' armor. He leaned forward to empty it, careful not to lose any of his gear along with the water. "I hate rain," he grumbled over the commlink.
"And the snow," recalled Wrex. "Remember Noveria? Heh...Shepard knew you hated it but she made you go you anyway. You bitched about the cold more than the rachni."
"There's a place I never want to go back to."
There was silence for another minute. Wrex could only hear the pounding of the rain. Then a crackle came over the commlink, "GO GO GO!"
Wrex and his men sprinted away from the building, then double backed, charging at full speed. They burst through the flimsy bay door and stumbled into the warehouse. The crash of the collapsing doors reverberated through the building. They switched on their spotlights, directing the beams in slow, sweeping arcs across the room.
"Strosk, find a breaker or a switch," instructed Wrex. He wiped his brow with his hand, then shook the water off his head.
The rest of the team continued to search the warehouse, but there were no signs of life.
"No one here," Wrex said into the commlink.
"None in the front office either," replied Garrus.
The lights flashed on, their bluish tint sterile and nauseating. Now the men could see that the warehouse was bursting, its interior filled with rows of long metal tables, many littered with lab equipment and remnants of tech. Wrex inspected one of the stations. There was still a sample under the analyzer, as if whoever was here had left in a hurry. Along the walls, banks of tall, sturdy shelving were overflowing with parts, some of which appeared to have been lifted directly from dead Reapers. Larger pieces lined the floor in front of them.
Wrex was about to speak when Garrus and his strike team entered through the doors at the other end of the warehouse.
"Wow...look at this," muttered Garrus.
"It's the missing Reaper tech!" Wrex hollered across the cavernous space. He strode towards Garrus at a clip, secretly annoyed that he had come in guns figuratively blazing and there was nary a fight to be found.
"Laren, Quidros—help the krogan team sweep the rest of the premises. See if you can pinpoint where that distress signal was sent from."
"Yes, sir," they answered together.
Wrex picked up a ribbed tentacle-like thing from a table, brandished it, then threw it back immediately. "What's up with this place? It's like they just up and left in the middle of the night."
Garrus canvassed the shelves. "And they left all the Reaper parts behind. Why risk stealing it only to abandon it?"
"I don't know, but this place is freaking me out." Wrex kicked at a deconstructed oculus, its byzantine tangle of innards strewn about the floor.
Garrus' remaining man had been taking care to record their surroundings. A coalition team would need to take a precise inventory of all the parts, but until there was basic information to upload to the joint task force. Every race in the galaxy had an interest in keeping the tech out of any one power's hands.
"General Vakarian, sir!" Laren's voice broke over the commlink. "We have a survivor in a safe room, security office, basement level."
"I'll be right there," Garrus responded. "Wrex, can you keep this area secure?"
Wrex patted the side of his shotgun. "Sure thing, pal."
Garrus rushed to the front of the building and flew down the stairs. In the security office, Quidros was standing outside the door to the safe room, keeping watch. Laren, inside, attended to the turian soldier who lay on the floor, barely conscious and bleeding.
Laren helped the soldier to sit upright against the wall and administered some medigel to his wounds. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Corporal Geryn Lathtalus," he wheezed.
"He's one of our missing men," remarked Garrus.
Corporal Lathtalus rolled his head up to look at him. "You got my distress signal?"
"We did, Corporal." Garrus squatted down to speak to Lathtalus eye-to-eye. "Where are the other missing men? The turians? The humans?" asked Garrus.
"Dead. They killed them all yesterday. I escaped, here." Lathtalus breathed heavily, his head falling forward toward his chest.
"Get him to the shuttle, he needs immediate medical treatment." Garrus put his hand on Lathtalus' shoulder. "We're going to get you out of here Corporal Lathtalus, hang in there."
Laren and Quidros carried him up the stairs and through the front entrance. Garrus went back to the warehouse where Wrex and his men were standing guard.
"We found one of our men. He's barely hanging on, but he's alive," Garrus reported.
"And the others?" asked Wrex.
"Dead, apparently. Killed yesterday. Looks like we got here too late."
"Damn."
"Yeah."
Vancouver, Earth
She had been lying in wait. Like a mountain lion stalking through the trees, she was ready to spring. As soon as her prey stepped into the street, she made the fateful leap. Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani. (Except she had been crouching behind an oversized concrete barrier, and she was more like a snake than a mountain lion.) Shepard had a mind to throw a haymaker at the woman's head but decided against it. They were still standing in front of Alliance property, after all. Of all the people to survive the war...
Al-Jilani shoved her omnitool into Shepard's face. "Commander Shepard? Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani… "
It's too early in morning for this shit. Shepard interrupted, "You know you don't need to repeat your full name every time we meet, right? I know who you are, we've spoken before. Unfortunately."
Al-Jilani ignored her comment and pressed on. "A moment of your time? I'd like to ask you a few questions."
The reporter hadn't asked anything yet, but Shepard was already irritated. Her morning run was the only thing keeping her fit these days and this snake was ruining it. "Do I have a choice? You're going to ask them anyway."
Again, al-Jilani avoided Shepard's bitter barbs. "Commander, you were the only member of the military to make it aboard the Citadel during the Battle of London. It's said that you were the one to activate the Crucible. Is that true?"
"Yes, I activated the Crucible that day.
"No one doubts that you saved countless lives with your actions. Most consider you a hero. But your actions have come with a steep cost—advanced technology was damaged or outright destroyed by the Crucible. Sources say you knew this would happen. Is that correct?"
Shepard knew that answering the question would get her into hot water, but she couldn't lie. "Yes."
A few passersby, who recognized the Commander, had slowed to gawk at the interrogation.
"Do you take responsibility for the damage you've done to galactic infrastructure? How will the galaxy function without working relays?"
"Look, all the best scientists and engineers currently in the Sol system are working hard on the problem. I'm sure they'll be fixed soon. We just need to be patient."
"Word is that progress on the relays has slowed to a crawl."
"I don't know anything about that."
"Then how do you feel about Sol being overrun by non-humans? There has been an unprecedented strain on our resources. The crime rate has skyrocketed. Some say Earth has become unliveable. Luna and Mars are experiencing similar problems."
Shepard felt her face go hot. The muscles along the side of her neck knotted into thick cords. "Overrun? They're not rats, al-Jilani. Those non-humans saved your ass. We owe them something, not the least of which is a chance to live."
"Then what about the millions of dextros who will likely starve if repairs aren't completed soon? The remaining quarian liveship has not been able to keep up with agricultural demand, and ship supplies are running low. Even remaining stores on the Citadel are nearing depletion. What do you have to say to them?"
The small crowd remained hushed as they listened for Shepard's answer.
"Some of my closest friends have dextro diets. Even if they weren't my friends, I would never willingly endanger anyone's life."
"Did you say close dextro friends?" Al-Jilani grinned smugly, thinking she had caught Shepard embroiled in a scandal. "Do you mean General Garrus Vakarian of the Turian Hierarchy? You've been seen in public together many times—you appear to have an intimate relationship outside of military operations. Do you mean to tell me you're in bed with a foreign power?"
Shepard could feel the crowd's eyes on her. A flicker of mischief flared across her face. "In the literal sense? Absolutely!" She flashed her best toothy smile. No point in taking the high road.
"So you admit it?" al-Jilani asked, accusingly.
Shepard could sense the foam forming in al-Jilani's mouth. She rolled her eyes. "This interview is over." Sidestepping the reporter, Shepard began to jog across the street.
"Commander Shepard! Commander Shepard!" al-Jilani brayed as she chased after her, waving her arm wildly to get her attention. She faltered to a stop when a man abruptly stepped in front of her, his arms held out wide to block her movement.
"She said this interview is OVER," he reprimanded. Al-Jilani tried to dodge him, but the man grabbed her firmly by the wrist.
"Owww, you don't have to grab me so hard," she whined.
"I'm sorry, Ms. al-Jilani. But you need to step off."
Shepard heard the man's voice and stopped at the other side of the street. "Kaidan!"
Kaidan let go of al-Jilani's wrist. "Leave, now."
She stumbled, still stunned by his admonishment.
He jogged to Shepard's side. "Hey, are you alright? She was pretty harsh back there."
"Yeah, thanks. She's always like that." Shepard let out a sharp exhale, then zipped up her sweatshirt and pulled the hood over her head. "What are you doing here? I thought you were away in London?"
"I was, I'm back in Vancouver for the rest of the month. Mind if I join you?" asked Kaidan.
"Just going for a light jog, nothing too intense." Shepard leaned forward against the wall of a building to stretch her calves. "You ok with that? You're in uniform."
"Sure, it'll wake me up. I've been meaning to cut back on the coffee anyway. It's been making my headaches worse."
"Ooooh, it hurts today," complained Shepard.
"Hmm? What's up?"
"Been having trouble with my leg. My physical therapist has been giving me lots of exercises to do, but I'm still having some pain. Sometimes my awareness is a bit off. Pins and needles too." Bringing a leg up behind her, Shepard held onto her foot for a standing quad stretch.
"Sounds rough."
"It's not the worst thing in the world. I broke bones and injured muscles so many times when I was a kid...I guess you could say pain and I grew up together." Shepard finished her stretch and shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her sweatshirt.
"I suppose that's why you're a tough person to kill."
Shepard shrugged. "I always came back stronger..." She had been looking directly at Kaidan as she spoke, but her gaze was unfocused and glassy.
The wailing siren of an ambulance sailed past somewhere above them. Kaidan scanned to see where it was coming from, but Shepard remained motionless, her expression blank.
"What's wrong?" he asked, as he turned his attention back to her.
"Nothing. Let's get going,"
Shepard began jogging west along the harbourfront, the hood still pulled tight over her head. They were silent for the first five minutes before Shepard asked Kaidan a question.
"How's your mom been holding up, Kaidan?"
"My mom? She's doing ok, actually. She misses my dad a lot. So, considering the circumstances..."
Kaidan kept pace at Shepard's side, mindful of her body's condition.
"Does she miss the orchard? Her friends there?"
"Mmm, maybe a little? She always liked the peace, the scenery. But she says she likes it better here. She says she's at home when she's with me, her 'only son'."
"I can understand," Shepard said, wistfully. "At least she has you."
Shepard's simple words bore weight. They made it harder for Kaidan to run as a sadness welled up in him. Shepard had told him about her family on Mindoir, their farm, and how she had lost everything so young. She never shared many details, but he knew how horrifying that moment in history had been. Enough to know that Shepard carried the pain with her at all times.
A ship's deafening horn blared as they jogged past a dock. It wasn't common to see waterborne ships much anymore, but with the stock of flying transport still low, a ship was as good as anything for moving cargo. Kaidan watched the workers on the dock hastily unload crates, scrambling to get the job done before the ship was scheduled to leave.
"Hey, Shepard... what do you think you're going to do...after they release you from the facility?" Kaidan's breathing was already audible.
"I don't know. Rejoin the Alliance, I guess. I'm still on leave, so no promotions for me until I'm done."
"You never really cared about...that anyway...right?"
"I care about getting the job done. Getting it done right. If that earns me a promotion, so be it," she asserted. A stoic answer from a stoic woman.
Kaidan struggled to keep up with her. "Gosh... I can't believe...I'm this out of...shape. Too much time sitting...not enough combat," he bemoaned.
"Come on, Kaidan! I was trapped under ruins for three days. I had my leg hacked off. If you can't keep up with me your health must be in deep shit!" she jeered.
"Aww...cut me some slack...Shepard!" Kaidan snapped back.
Shepard began to speed up, taking off on the trail that snaked through the waterside park. She laughed as she rounded the corner at the pier, her hood flying off her head as she streaked past fresh flowerbeds and an elderly couple out for stroll. She peaked over her shoulder at Kaidan; he had fallen behind by a good twenty meters. A satisfied grin filled her face.
Feeling a bit bad for abandoning her friend, she decided to stop. But as her foot came down to slow her, Shepard felt her calf go numb. She collapsed, falling sideways as her ankle rolled. She lay on the ground grimacing, grasping her ankle with both hands.
Kaidan had seen what happened and came sprinting down the path. "Shepard! …Are you alright?...What happened?" he huffed.
"I just tripped. I didn't tie my shoes properly," she lied.
Kaidan examined her ankle. "That already looks a little swollen. Come on, let's get you back to the facility."
"Goddamn it," Shepard groused. "There goes my run."
Kaidan helped her off the ground and draped her arm over his neck. She limped along as Kaidan held onto her.
"Don't say anything to Garrus about this…"
"Why's that? Afraid he'd be jealous of you leaning on some other guy?" Kaidan asked facetiously.
"Some other guy? It's you Kaidan…"
Shepard knew Garrus would never actually feel jealous of Kaidan, despite their brief romantic relationship. Garrus had every trust in her. He knew that she had put those feelings to bed a long time ago. But she couldn't risk Garrus hearing about her minor accident. He would worry and fuss over her, reminding her how she needed to take it easy. And he needed his head in the game as much as she did. If sparing him the worry meant letting Kaidan believe that Garrus would be a little jealous, so be it. A little white lie wasn't going to hurt anyone.
When they got back to the Alliance facility, Shepard insisted that Kaidan take her straight to her room and not the infirmary.
"I'll just ice it, it'll be fine," she convinced him.
"Are you sure? Not even some medigel?" he asked.
"Yes! Now stop, go away!" She made a shooing gesture with her hands. "You've got to get to work," she reminded him.
Kaidan saluted her in jest. "Yes ma'am. I'll check on you later?"
"Bah!" Shepard pretended to be annoyed.
"See ya, Shepard." Kaidan waved.
"Bye Kaidan."
Kaidan walked out, running his hand over his hair as he hoofed it back to headquarters. He was worried that Shepard was pushing herself too hard, too fast, but felt it wasn't his place to tell her so. She would certainly tell him where to shove it if he insisted too much. He was conflicted. He had a duty to fulfill. Admiral Hackett had asked him to keep watch over her six months ago, before she had even regained consciousness.
"I ha...have news. A-and a..faavor to..ask..." Admiral Hackett said that day.
"What's that sir?" asked Kaidan.
"I need you... to k-keep an eye on Sh-shepaard for me...when she's con..conscious again. You're close to her, she...trusts you. Keep the...the me-media away. They'll ha-have...questions. It will be...haaard on her. Sh-she did her...duty. W-we still...need her...go-ing forward. We-we need her...in top shape, m-m-entally and physic-ally."
I would have done it anyway, he wanted to say. Kaidan didn't mind taking on the task—not for a friend like Shepard—but he felt the Admiral had chosen the wrong person for the job. He didn't blame him, though. Hackett had no knowledge of their personal history together; they had kept things quiet aboard the SR-1, and it ended too soon for word to spread very far. Still, he thought someone like Garrus or even Miranda might do better, but they weren't Alliance.
As Kaidan hurried into headquarters, a young comms specialist tailed him, trying to get his attention. "General Alenko, sir!"
"Yes?" Kaidan made an about face.
"General Garrus Vakarian of the Hierarchy has made contact. He would like to speak with you over vidcom," the young woman informed him.
"I'll take it in the private comm room, thank you."
Intended for informal talks, the private comm room was just big enough for one or two people and a chair. Kaidan liked it better than the regular comm room, which made him feel ridiculous, like a child shouting in an auditorium. There wasn't much need for formality between the former squadmates anyway. They'd been through enough life threatening situations together—also eating, talking, spending downtime together—to drop the pretense of military rank.
Garrus' image materialized. He seemed tired; his shoulders sagged, and he appeared to be slouching in a seat rather than standing.
"Hey Garrus, what's going on?"
"Wrex and I located the source of the distress signal. We found one of our missing men. He's alive, but he says the other victims were executed, including your Alliance soldiers," said Garrus.
"Damn it. Was there anyone else there?"
"There was no one at the warehouse when we arrived. The stranger part is that they left all their Reaper tech behind. Didn't even bother to clean house, just up and vanished." Garrus shook his head slowly in disbelief.
"What? Then what did they want with it?"
"Beats me. We didn't get much information from our guy before he passed out. But from what I can gather, whoever these people are, they're interested in indoctrination. Maybe even resurrecting Reapers. They used the kidnapped soldiers as test subjects. They're after scientists and engineers now, possibly ex-Cerberus or anyone working at that level."
"We can't let this go on. We need to find the perpetrators," Kaidan rasped.
"I sent a video log to your comms specialist. It should give you an idea of what we're dealing with. The task force will need to send a team to take an inventory before they destroy anything."
"Understood. Thanks, Garrus. And thank Wrex for me too."
"Will do."
"I'll be in touch. Alenko out."
Kaidan paced back and forth in the small room, thinking on the best course of action. He would need to report this to Admiral Mikhailovich, but he knew the Admiral would chew him out if he didn't come with full details and a plan in hand. This was the same man who begrudged Shepard for taking command of an "overdesigned piece of tin". He was a stickler for protocol and stood by the status quo. Still, Kaidan would need more information. He decided to call Miranda, who he trusted to be efficient and discreet.
Miranda's voice rang through his omnitool. "General–sorry, Kaidan–how can I help you?"
"Miranda, I think I've got something else for you. It's not official, it would need to be done off the books. But I could use some intel."
"Finally, some real work," Miranda effused. "What do you need?"
"I need to know if any Cerberus operatives have re-organized. We also have reason to believe that ex-Cerberus scientists and engineers might be in danger. Are you still in touch with Jacob?"
"I haven't heard from him recently, but he and his family are on Luna."
"See if he knows where everyone's gone, we're going to need to warn them."
"Got it," Miranda confirmed.
"I'm still waiting on more details from Garrus, but I'll forward them to you ASAP."
"Of course."
Kaidan settled into the only chair. "Listen, Miranda, working with you might get me into some trouble, so it goes without saying that we need to do this quietly. Not to say I think you'll do otherwise—I know you can get the job done cleanly."
Since the end of the war, Miranda had been working with the Alliance in one capacity or another. But Kaidan had been the only one from the organization to give her their full trust. There had always been a caveat with the others—because of her long past with Cerberus, because of her father, because of her intimidating character. Kaidan forced himself to look past that. Despite the feelings that had led him to reject a resurrected Shepard, he recognized the value Miranda offered. People change, you should know that yourself, he told himself.
Miranda paused. "You know, I haven't known you as long as some of the other crew, but….you've changed, Kaidan.'
"I have?" he asked, a slight uplift in his voice.
"Maybe it's the position, or the experience, but you've grown...confident," Miranda observed. "And you're not looking to anyone for their personal approval. That's very attractive."
"You're just flattering me, right?"
"I don't flatter. It isn't in my nature to say things I don't mean." Miranda coughed. "Anyway, I should go. There will be lots to do. We'll speak again soon."
Kaidan sat silent in the room as the communication ended. He was glad they hadn't been speaking over vidcom, or Miranda might have caught the warm blush to his cheeks.
Song: "Living on a Thin Line" - The Kinks
Is there nothing we can say or do? / Blame the future on the past / Always lost in bloody guts / And when they're gone, it's me and you