Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: A little behind schedule, I'll admit it, but real life is putting a lot of mental stress on me right now. I find it hard to keep motivated.
Episode 62: Return to Eden Prime
When Shepard returned to the Normandy, she was unsurprised to discover that Joker had taken liberties while in charge. Sure, the ship was still in one piece, but he organized everyone to meet her on the CIC for a bit of a display. It was the most crowded that deck two had ever gotten. Everyone was very enthusiastic with their applause, congratulations, and intentions to celebrate her promotion.
One look at Joker told Shepard the entire story. He looked very proud of himself. Shepard knew better than to reprimand him, as it would go in one ear and out the other. Thus it was almost half an hour between her return and when she finally managed to duck into the OD. Celebrating a promotion was well and good, but she had some important things to do, things that could not be delayed.
She stopped far enough into the room for the doors to close behind her, and raked her brain to ensure she had a full itemized list of said things. First and foremost, she needed to contact Admiral Hackett to apprise him of this development, since her promotion altered some of the operational parameters of her mission. She now had two masters to serve. After that, she needed to register with the Spectre office and submit her biometrics. That would get her all the delightful things that Nihlus loved to borderline abuse while he tossed his weight around. The annoying part of it all was that the bureaucratic nonsense could only be done in person, so she would have to leave her ship one more time. Then needed to contact Castis about that report. It would not do for Pallin to think he had heard the last of her.
That done, Shepard took a deep breath, held it for a long moment, and then slowly let it out, anchoring herself. She just had to power through that list one item at a time. Decision made, she turned and made her way toward her console. A few key strokes pulled it out standby and brought up her emails, checking them would tell her where things stood.
It was soon obvious that the news had not left the Citadel yet, because she only had two messages in her inbox. The first was from the Spectre office, a data package containing instructions and registration forms. That would wait until she talked with the Admiral. Then her eyes landed on the sender of the second message and she paused, genuinely surprised. It was right from the desk of Castis Vakarian, complete with his full rank, as official as the message could be.
She tapped it open and skimmed over the contents. The letter was brief, with the Citadel Security official header being almost as long as the contents. The senior detective congratulated her on becoming a Spectre and announced that Executor Pallin had agreed to release the autopsy report she requested. Castis, on his own initiative, added the laboratory report as well. Shepard grinned, she could read between the lines there. She glanced at the top, and confirmed that the attachments had gone through. Yes, there were two files, both marked by a case number and file identification code. One glance at the time stamp revealed that the message arrived before she had returned to the Normandy.
Shepard smiled. There was only one way to look at that. One of the Citadel Security officers who had been present at her ceremony had reported back to his superiors. Pallin read the writing on the wall and admitted defeat, in private, to avoid the inevitable. Shepard replied with a brief note in thanks, to confirm that she got the files. That was just the polite thing to do. He had saved her time and forestalled Nihlus doing anything. He would have been insufferable and bridges would have been burned. Shepard did not want that.
With that done, she keyed the commands to log off and put the terminal back in standby, and got to her feet. She was still grinning from ear to ear as she turned toward the COMCON.
The call to Admiral Hackett did not take long, and the Admiral did not seem to fault her if he thought she came across as the cat that ate a whole flock of canaries. In fact, just before he signed off, saying that he would pass the news around, she noted a particular twinkle of the eye flicker past his normally professionally detached countenance. She realized that the admiral intended to enjoy spreading the news around.
Shepard knew that the first people Hackett would contact would be her mother and Captain Anderson. After that, he would likely notify Lindholm, just to rub it in her face in the most professional manner possible. Lindholm had officially lost the right even to point a finger at her without incurring the parliament's displeasure. She would have to keep her grudges to herself. That sort of message would ensure she would have a positively wonderful evening. Shepard chuckled to herself as the door into the OD opened. But her schadenfreude took a back seat to reality when she realized she was no longer alone.
Nihlus was on the couch under the viewports, in his civvies, his hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, and looking as comfortable as could be. "So, when do you want to go register on the system?" He asked.
"As soon as possible… but how long is that going to take?"
"About an hour." He replied without hesitance. "They will want full palm prints, retinal scan, voice pattern, and genetic material. The voice pattern will require reading a text in your native language, translator off, one that contains as many different phonetics as possible."
"Ah," Shepard replied as she stepped deeper into the room.
"I do wonder if they prepared that for a human yet," Nihlus went on, his eyes suddenly alight with mirth.
Shepard could not see where the amusement was coming from. "We'll find out, won't we?" After all, even her mobile armor locker used a palm print and voice recognition. After that, the Spectres clearly used a few extra things because some methods could not be used with armor on. As for voice recognition, a larger recording sample would maximize certainty and security.
"After that is done we can go get that autopsy report," Nihlus said, flashing her one of his toothy grins.
It was clear to see he was eager to do it, for all the wrong reasons. Shepard shook her head, she was going to deluge on his parade. "Actually, that won't be needed. Castis already sent the report over."
Nihlus shot up into a sitting position as if the couch had electrocuted him, "You are joking, right?"
"Nope. It arrived even before we got back from the ceremony."
"Pallin probably does not want his underlings to see you make him rue telling you no," Nihlus replied.
Shepard shrugged. She was not going to derive pleasure from that. "Whatever reason floats his boat. It's my least concern. The immediate issue is our next job on Eden Prime. I need to figure out how to accommodate Doctor T'Soni. She will be working for the Alliance officially."
"Get her to sign the same nondisclosure contacts as the rest," Nihlus cut in. "You do not want her breathing a word about anything she sees on this ship."
"That's given. Admiral Hackett would not let her see the ship if she could talk. The real issue is… we're going to have to make some adjustments, won't we?" The Normandy was not designed to give everyone a stateroom. Things were getting complicated fast, and that was compounding on to the faint throb in her temple, something she had first noticed while talking with Admiral Hackett. She was wound up, stressed, and the day was not ending any time soon.
Nihlus rose to his feet, crossed the distance between them, and put his hands on her shoulders. "I distinctly remember Hackett telling you to take it easy for a while."
Shepard blinked and stared up into his eyes, "I need to register in the system, get my clearances, and then figure how to settle Doctor T'Soni on this ship. That's fact. After that, we are off to Eden Prime. But there… well, unless the Heretics decide to show up, we are going to be spelunking inside a mine. The only hard work in that is not getting lost."
Nihlus' hands dropped away as his mandibles flicked, almost as if he wanted to grin, but bit it back. "Alright. But for the record, I am not giving up my cabin."
"Don't worry, I wasn't going to ask." Shepard replied blandly. "It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the crew if they had to deal with your ego all day long." She intentionally raised an eyebrow. As far as she was concerned that was the only way to respond to such a declaration. His mandibles flicked, but when he did not say anything for three seconds, long enough for his quick tongue, she deemed it a won argument. Shepard clapped him on the upper arm and turned toward the OD door leading to the CIC. "Well, let's get this annoying part over with. After that… we'll see what comes up." Something would always come up. That was just how the dice rolled for her.
It was almost three hours before Shepard returned to the Normandy. Becoming the first human Spectre came with a lot of hoops to jump through. Clearly more than Nihlus had anticipated. For one, the asari worker at the office did not quite believe her when she said she was there to register as a Spectre. She insisted on verifying the claim with Tevos' secretary, which took a while.
After that, it took her a bit to figure out what text to have Shepard read. Being put on the spot, she jumped to suggest that Shepard should read two or three pages of a famous work of literature, so that the computer could pick up the nuances of her voice. But the first work she chose, A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare, Shepard had to veto, and suggested Sherlock Holmes instead. The books were literally the first work of literature in a more modern English to pop into her head, because she had read them as a teenager. Shepard's concern was that while she could pronounce Elizabethan English just fine, it might send Nihlus' and the Asari's translators into fits. It was best to steer clear of such potential hiccups from the start. When all was said and done, Shepard requested a glass of water, as her throat had gone dry. The recording proved adequate, so Shepard would take that and not think about it any more. She already had way too many other things to think about.
Yet even when Shepard returned to the Normandy for the final time that day, she could not afford to relax. The running around exhausted her and her list of things to do in the most immediate future was merely shorter rather than gone. She went right back to work, esconced in the OD. She still needed to figure out what to do with Liara, ready things for their trip to Eden Prime, and then have a look at the files Castis had sent her. Albeit, another email check pushed the first two items to the back burner, as Admiral Hackett had not contacted her about the local connection yet. But that still left the third item on the list.
As she prepared the files for Nihlus and Garrus, she asked EDI to call Garrus up to the OD. By the time she sat down on the couch and set the two spare datapads on the coffee table, Nihlus had already monopolized the extension. A few moments later Garrus arrived as if he had dropped everything when summoned.
"Spect- Commander, you wished to see me?" Garrus started.
Shepard smiled. Garrus floundering over titles was unintentionally funny right then. "Come on in, Garrus. Now… I say this as a blanket order to the both of you. I don't want to be addressed as 'Spectre Shepard'. It's not that the title doesn't have a certain ring to it, but it's… inconvenient. What they don't know, I will use to my advantage as long as possible."
Nihlus chuckled, "I knew that was coming, Vakarian."
"Yea, I thought of that maybe a little slower than I should have… but yes, it is a bit obvious." Garrus replied, mandibles flicking with his grin as he drew near and stopped on the other side of the coffee table.
Shepard shook her head. One of these days she would get Garrus to finally drop the titles altogether, hopefully sometime before the heat death of the universe, but now was not here or there. "Yes, you two can read me like a book. Be gleeful later." Sarcasm, the final refuge of the unamused, right before the topic change. "Seriously though… I wanted to start by thanking the both of you."
"For what?" Garrus asked.
"For everything." Shepard replied. "I'm- well... it's starting finally to sink in, I'm a Spectre now." That was an innocent bit of misdirection. That fact that she was a Spectre had sunk in a little sooner than just now. It was more like only now, having completed her registration, that the urge to pinch herself finally went away.
"I did say you would become one." Nihlus murmured.
"Yes, and… the both of you have been with me the whole way. I feel like saying thank you just does not even begin to cover the gratitude I feel."
Garrus shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes clearly locked on something outside the OD viewport.
"You sound surprised." Nihlus said.
Shepard stared at the floor. She figured she owed them the truth, no matter how personally unpleasant saying it would be. "I'm paranoid that way. Up to the moment I completed the registration, I expected something to go wrong."
She heard material shift against the imitation leather, and in the next moment the couch section on which she sat moved. When she looked up, she saw that Nihlus had moved to sit next to her. Before she could say one more word, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and he pulled her into his side. A moment later his body warmth enveloped her entirely. She tried to slip her fingers into the division between couch cushions, but the fit was too tight. Still, gripping onto the edge prevented her from doing something infinitely stupid right then.
"Spirits, Shepard, you really are unable to relax."
He clearly did not understand why she was rigid right then. "I can relax just fine… when I can allow myself to do so," she protested.
Nihlus chuckled, "That is being unable to relax."
She turned to glare up at him. He was grinning toothily. She was not going to win that argument, was she? "Fine, I can't relax. Happy?"
Nihlus' grin got even bigger. "Very. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to solving it."
Shepard rolled her eyes and turned to look at Garrus.
He must have understood it as her raising a 'send help' sign, because he perched on her other side and reached for one of the pads on the coffee table. "I do not think the Commander called us up here for… whatever it is you are doing, Kryik," he said in a bland matter-of-fact manner.
Nihlus' pulled away, and Shepard leapt at the opportunity to shift away further. She would wonder what temporary insanity Nihlus had just experienced later. "Garrus is right," she announced with a flick of the pad in her hands in the ex-detective's general direction. "I wanted to discuss the autopsy and lab reports Castis sent over. I prepared spare copies for both of you, so Nihlus, you have no excuse to invade my personal space more than you've already done."
"Ruin my fun, will you?" Nihlus grumbled, as he picked up the third pad.
Shepard pretended not to have heard that as she scanned over the text. The report was long and very thorough. Just the wound catalogue was three pages, going from head to toe, with each wound getting complete annotations. Because of that it took Shepard a few moments to find the wound labeled as the fatal one, and another to understand the medical jargon used to describe it. "Well, Leng is nothing if not brutal in his efficiency. The fatal wound severed the hepatic artery. She would not have been able to struggle for very long after that." It would be best if she keep to the clinical terminology. It would put some needed distance between her and the basic fact that the victim was her clone.
Garrus hummed, "That would support your theory that he wanted to add… shock value to the crime scene. He needed her to bleed as much as possible before all the bleeding ceases when her heart stopped. After death, the only way to induce bleeding is by gravity… to hang the body. That takes time, risks noise, and it typically requires help. Very few killers are physically capable of hanging a corpse on their own."
Shepard almost shuddered. The way Garrus described that almost sounded like he was recounting something he had seen personally. "The video evidence confirmed he was alone… but aside from that, Leng likely can't trust or even get along with anyone well enough to have an accomplice."
"Very few sadistic killers can. Most also do not like to… erm… share." Garrus said.
Shepard turned to the bottom of the report where the coroner listed trace evidence recovered from on or in the body. There were two whole pages just listing all the hairs and clothing fibers found stuck in the dry blood. Shepard double-checked by scanning over the list three times, but there was conspicuous absence of one particular thing. "Remember how I thought that Leng's knife might leave a fragment in one of her wounds?"
Garrus turned back to his pad and scrolled down as his eyes scanned over the text.
"There was no fragment," Nihlus stated.
"Exactly." Shepard said. "Leng never broke that fragile carbon fiber blade. Even as it dulled after that first stroke. And it did dull. Take a look at the wound list… the coroner established the order of the wounds by the tearing! After the first, the wounds show increasing signs of tearing. Leng was forcing that blade in by the last one. That adds up to the idea that there was no meaningful struggle during which he could have broken the blade. He was in full control the entire time."
Nihlus hummed low in the back of his throat.
Shepard went on, "This was a very macabre bit of theater."
"Leng and Banes are the same, sick and twisted," Nihlus growled.
"Oh without a doubt." Shepard shook her head and sighed. "Leng is pathological. As for Banes… well, he cloned me, convinced her that she was an individual, and then slipped her a tracker. We know that Leng was following a signal. Then if you look at the wound description again… the coroner found a gouged amp port, but no amp. It was crudely and forcefully extracted. The tracker had to have been in it."
"Makes sense," Nihlus murmured.
"I have to wonder, why did they make her a biotic? You are not, everyone knows that," Garrus stated.
"That is a good question," Shepard stated as she flicked a finger in his direction. "The easy answer -or at least the one that makes the most sense- would be that Banes needed to put a tracker in something that she would not throw away if she ever ran for it."
"That, and being a biotic would be useful to her." Nihlus added.
"Was it?" Shepard asked. "It did not stop Leng."
"That… is a fair point." Nihlus conceded.
Shepard nodded. "I don't think she was particularly powerful. Leng stepped into that room with the knife already in his hand. He was telegraphing his intent loud and clear. A biotic could have thrown him back before running. If she didn't, then she couldn't." It was largely conjecture, but Shepard knew that when faced with a life or death threat people tended to react instinctively, and with everything they had. "You know… we don't have video from what happened in that room. She might have tried something, but it did not work. That would've given Leng the time to close the distance. But that still says her biotics couldn't have been particularly powerful."
"We will probably never know." Garrus rumbled as he leaned back into the couch.
Shepard turned to look him in the eye, "Therein lies the rub. But I'm happy with what we got." She flicked the pad in her hands, "This is still plenty of evidence saying that I was right. Leng is unhinged and dangerous. Though, now that we know what he's capable of, he loses some of the advantage he had." It was a slight tip of the scales in their favor, but still more than they had before.
"It only took you nearly picking a fight with Pallin," Nihlus murmured.
"Says the Spectre who would have happily picked a fight with Pallin." Shepard fired back without hesitation as she set her pad back on the coffee table. She would not let Nihlus get away with being the pot calling the kettle black.
Garrus chuckled, but said nothing, his eyes never leaving his datapad.
Shepard slumped into the back of the couch, crossed her arms, and hummed. Now that she had what she wanted from the autopsy, how was she going to use the information?
The next two days were a hectic affair for all the wrong reasons, with the first day more-so than the second. For Shepard there was little to do now but wait for the final pieces to fall into place, and in the meanwhile put her house in order. A myriad of routine background tasks had gone undone while she was busy fending off Lindholm's machinations. Not that anyone on board particularly faulted her for that lapse. Her department heads did their jobs even without her rubberstamping things, though it did leave quite a report backlog on her desk.
Adams and the engineers knew their jobs, did them as always, and their reports attested to that. Doctor Chakwas, more than anyone, knew that sometimes paperwork ended up on the back burner. Moreover the most serious thing she had to deal with that entire time was a serviceman slitting his thumb while cleaning his weapon. Finally, Matthews reported that they were operating out of nearly fully stocked larders, so he would not have to get creative for two weeks. Nevertheless, Shepard put priority on the galley lists, because nothing demoralized a crew quite like going hungry.
After she got through that backlog she turned to her emails. Right at the top of her inbox were two emails from Admiral Hackett. The first one was official, seal-bearing headers and all. He officially congratulated her on becoming a Spectre, then confirmed that she was keeping command of the Normandy. He mentioned that even though her first priority was now serving the Council as a Spectre, he wished to maintain a cooperative relationship on a more equal footing in the future. That was a legal-speak acknowledgment of things. Even though Hackett could not order her around, as much, he still had to keep her on a leash, because the Alliance was footing the bills, and expected things.
The other email, no less official, was all about the situation on Eden Prime. Hackett explained that he had gotten in touch with Colonial Affairs, and they were working ironing out the details and putting her in touch with the right people. Liara's involvement in the whole thing was pretty much a done deal, and to that end, Hackett sent over two contracts for her to sign. One was an employment contract, while the other a tweaked version of the old non-disclosure agreement, in case Shepard wanted to hire Liara long-term.
Shepard replied to both, essentially affirming that she understood everything, and that cooperation would not be a problem. For the sake of thoroughness she mentioned her suspicions that the Council would not trust her with anything deemed particularly sensitive for a while. They may have conceded to make her a Spectre, but it would be an uphill battle for them to treat her like one. She fully expected to get nothing but the most menial jobs they could throw at her, which was fine by her, as she could power through such things and then use the down time to get real work done. If the Parliament got upset, she did not want to hear about it.
The next email was from her mother. In it, Hannah revealed that the news had hit the Kilimanjaro like a tidal wave, sweeping down the decks so quickly that even the enlisted in the bowels knew within the hour. The ship's biggest mess hall turned into a rowdy party, nominally in her honor. Shepard suspected the only hyperbole there was the part about it being in her honor. The crew of any ship would use any convenient excuse to celebrate. Hannah signed off with a reminder that even though their rank disparity was no longer absolute, she still claimed motherly precedence. Shepard took to mean that her mother reserved the right to be nosy. She replied mostly just to say she had seen the message, there was very little else to be said to that gushing email.
The third email was a personal message from Captain Anderson. He went so far as to congratulate her on surpassing him, but added that he was not surprised by it. Because, to quote him, if anyone could do it, it would be a Shepard. As the two of them never took a no for an answer. Shepard laughed after reading that. It was mostly a jest, but it did contain a few grams of truth. Then the captain reiterated that his offer of support and advice still stood, and that she should not be a stranger. She replied by thanking Anderson for his kind words.
The final email in her inbox came from the most unlikely of sources, a pleasant surprise that had Shepard grinning from ear to ear. News about her promotion had reached Wrex, so he sent a brief note, just a few lines, to metaphorically pat her on the back. Shepard really could not imagine Wrex sitting there, typing away on his omni when he undoubtedly had much to do. The idea was kind of funny when she thought on it long enough. Wrex congratulated her, announcing that he had a good drink in her honor and all. Then he reiterated his offer of asylum, whether she needed it to lay low after killing someone, or now, if the Council's varren crap made her want to shoot some stuff. There was always plenty of stuff to shoot on Tuchanka, and some of it would even attempt to shoot back.
She sent him a reply thanking him, saying that she had a good laugh, and that she would keep his invitation in mind. Then added that she missed him and his unique brand of humor. Then she ordered him to be careful when bashing skulls. Doing so used her sisterly privilege card for something. Wrex would probably grumble that she was being sappy, but that was the bluster of a big tough Krogan.
The morning after that, with all the paperwork done she turned to the matter of Eden Prime in earnest. After some deliberation she decided that there was no real reason why Liara should become a permanent member of the crew. But they still needed to set up a temporary berth in one of the observation lounges for her. She also finally managed to get Nihlus and Garrus to do their punishment in the cargo bay. Call her vindictive, but if they thought she would forget, then it was important to put those thoughts to rest. She did relent a bit, and let EDI help them. Of course EDI was on strict orders not to reveal that Shepard had in fact told her to help them. Though in all likelihood both of them had figured it out, as EDI would not have gone against orders behind her back otherwise.
During lunch, when Shepard was eating with the marines, EDI announced that there was a delivery outside for Kaidan. Before Shepard could say a word, the lieutenant practically sprung to his feet and rushed off, leaving them all with raised eyebrows. He came back about twenty minutes later, sheepishly smiling and holding a large box and offered a vague explanation of having rush-requisitioned an expensive upgrade kit for his hard-suit. He ate his meal with that box between his feet. When Ashley asked him if he wanted help installing it, Kaidan readily accepted the offer. Shepard grinned into her tea, but Jenkins chuckled loudly, causing Kaidan to remind him that he was laughing at a superior officer. Jenkins apologized, but Shepard thought it was rather insincere, though she did not comment.
But it was just before dinner when things finally budged. Shepard got a long message from the Alliance Office of Colonial Affairs. Inside was information on the Sunstone Mining Corporation, with a name and email address to contact. Apparently one of the managers had agreed to talk with her, and if need be, refer her to some of the miners who had worked inside the old mine. Colonial Affairs wanted her to hash out the rest on her own. Once the whole thing was ironed out would they make arrangements for an archeological team to come in and do the work long-term.
Shepard replied by thanking them and saying that the arrangement worked for her. It was little more than a receipt to say that she got the message. She was utterly unsurprised that the archeologists would wait for her to find them a dig site. She could use that to he own advantage. She did not want civilians running around underfoot. This whole venture was grasping in the dark, at straws, and hoping to find a needle to begin with.
After that, she sent a quick message to that company contact, mostly just to introduce herself and request a meeting in person in the next couple days. In the interest of not scaring her contact too much, or too soon, she signed off with her Alliance rank, not the fact that she was a freshly-minted Spectre. Nothing would send the suits running for the hills faster than a whiff of that.
Her last email that day was to Liara, to say that she had what she needed, and they could proceed as planned, and included the location code of the spaceport where the Normandy was berthed. It was as good as telling Liara to pack and prepare for a long trip, without using said words. Then she prepared the main contracts and finally made a few important announcements to her crew before turning in for the night.
It was during breakfast the next day that EDI announced that there was a visitor on the gangway. Shepard was utterly unsurprised to see Liara, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, pushing a dolly loaded with three large mass-effect-core suitcases, escorted by the bemused Citadel Security officer who normally kept an eye on the dock. He only lingered long enough to confirm that Liara was indeed expected, and walked off to return to his post.
Shepard had to forgo finishing breakfast to walk Liara through the bureaucratic side of things. Liara was all to eager to sign the two contracts offered, practically skimming their text instead of reading it. She then made Shepard eat even more humble pie by saying that she expected such a contact. After all, she would have had to be born yesterday to think that the Thanix was the only secret on the Normandy. Anyone else would have gotten kind of tired of all the humble pie, but Shepard chose to view it as karmic comeuppance for all the questionable stunts she had recently pulled.
After that Shepard spent about two hours settling Liara in. Most of the crew came by to introduce themselves, and to satisfy their curiosity. Liara took one look at the back aft half of the port-side lounge, and called dibs. Then Donnelly came by, partly to gawp at the asari, much to Gabriella's annoyance, and partly to install the rail for a removable privacy curtain. Say what Gabriella would about Donnelly's sometimes questionable comments, but that was still thoughtful.
Only once all that was done, and things had settled down, did Shepard have the moment to check her email that morning. Predictably she got a message from one of the mining company managers, one Sophia Waters, telling her that they could meet during official company business hours at her most convenient location. The message was cool, entirely professional, and bearing some incorrect assumptions. Shepard would use that 'her most convenient location' clause for all it was worth. She sent back a reply to say that it worked for her, and that she would let the manager know when and where the Normandy would be landing. Let the woman take it as she would.
Finally, after making sure that everything was settled, the crew was accounted for, all deliveries had been received, and the Normandy was operating at peak efficiency, Shepard ordered Joker to point them toward Eden Prime. Their new mission was officially a go.
From the Widow system in the Serpent Nebula to the Utopia system within the Exodus Cluster there was just one relay jump, so the Normandy made transit from the Citadel to orbit over Eden Prime in a few short hours. Some dark corner of Shepard's mind had expected a distress call to greet them once they emerged from the relay, but no, all was quiet. This made her come to the conclusion that Nihlus was right, she was trapped in a tension bubble, unable to relax, and it was exacerbating what was normally a healthy paranoia.
As the Normandy made asynchronous orbit, Shepard stepped out of the OD and onto the CIC. Nihlus, ever her shadow, was a few steps behind her. Kaidan was at his post as an acting XO, with Adams practically across from him, both of them were expected. What surprised Shepard was Liara, standing next to the railing at the head of the central console, looking uncertain and somewhat worried at the same time.
"Commander," Kaidan greeted calmly.
"At ease people," Shepard replied as she moved to the head of the big CIC console. "Joker, did you start on the docking authorizations yet?" Shepard ordered.
"Way of ahead of you, Commander," the pilot replied over the internal comm.
"Good," Shepard replied. She would not ask, but she did wonder. Joker sounded awfully happy saying that. Maybe a bit too happy. She stepped up onto the raised command platform and inspected the large projection over the central console.
Eden Prime looked perfectly pleasant. EDI was already mapping the planet's orbit, marking things with labeled dots. Some indicated comm satellites to avoid, others were spacecraft. There was even a passenger transport executing counter-burn maneuvers. EDI had calculated its path and added it as a dashed line, just in case. All-in-all the map presented them the picture of a typical day.
"I announced us, and was told that that we can make entry at our convenience, but we are to avoid an equatorial vector. They are elevating grain out of Constance, and that's going to continue for another thirty hours at least," Joker went on.
"The town of Blackrock, our destination, is at twenty degrees north latitude, so I think we're good." Shepard said. She was not surprised that they were told to get out of the grain's way, not the other way around. The most economic way of doing multiple orbital elevations was by unmanned reusable boosters. They would go up to a set elevation and accelerate, seemingly to orbit, only to release their pods, and then return for refueling, reloading, and repeating. The pods remained in orbit, pinging for pickup by a cargo hauler.
"Speaking of, I looked at the area around that town. We are going to have to be careful about where we land," Joker continued.
"What do you mean?" Shepard asked.
"Blackrock doesn't have a spaceport. They don't even have a landing pad large enough for the Normandy."
Shepard could already see why that was indeed a problem.
"And as you all hopefully know… making atmo, the hull is going to get pleasantly toasty, and we have those thrusters… and Blackrock is surrounded by a lot of lovely, perfectly flammable forest. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like becoming the reason the town's name changes to Charcoalbriquette."
Shepard actually had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from laughing. She did not want to look like she approved of Joker's comedy routine. Now was not the time.
"That would be a disaster, and your pilot is making Jokes?" Liara asked.
"It's more of a… illustrative exaggeration," Shepard replied. That was the other hurdle of having someone new on board. They did not know that her crew was eccentric to say the least.
"Yea… a bit of comedic absurdity to highlight the obvious."
"I see." Liara murmured, sounding obviously unsure. "It must be a human thing. I don't have a lot of experience dealing with that particular type of humor."
"No one has any experience dealing with that particular type of humor," Nihlus said as he crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight.
"Most can't even tell if it is meant to be humorous," Kaidan deadpanned.
"Hey!" Joker protested. "I heard that, Alenko, and I know where you sleep!"
Adams cleared his throat. "Joker may be being… irreverent, but he is right. We cannot land in the middle of a forest. The Normandy is not a Kodiak."
"Why not remain in orbit?" Liara asked.
"I would have to keep updating Constance authorities of where we are. We don't want them launching something right at us by mistake," Joker explained.
"That, and we'll be here for a few days, and I rather not camp from a Kodiak, besides… so far as we can tell, nothing says we should not," Shepard added.
"I see," Liara murmured.
Shepard turned back to look toward the cockpit. "Got any options for us?" It was a blanket question for both EDI and Joker.
"Maybe. There is a rocky beach on the same body of water as the town, some fifty kilometers away. It will be a bit tight and the water will lap against our rear, but as far as I can tell there is nothing flammable there," Joker said.
"Still a commute, but… better." Shepard murmured. "EDI, run some detailed scans. I want to be sure that there is nothing on that beach that we shouldn't land on."
"Right away, Commander," EDI replied.
Shepard figured a bit of fresh air would be a happy bonus to this proposition.
It was a good three hours before the Normandy's landing struts touched the surface of Eden Prime. The weather at their destination was mostly sunny with a very slight breeze and just a few fluffy clouds overhead. The beach they landed on was covered in countless dark, rounded stones and even more dark-colored sand. A few patches of sparse beach grass had burned away in the wash of the Normandy's thrusters, but there was almost a kilometer of mostly rocks and sand between them and the forest, so nothing spread particularly far. To help it, Joker chose to land right on the line where the tide rose highest, thus the water lapped at the ship's nacelles, rear struts, and underside, while its front end and shuttle bay doors remained above the high tide mark.
The delay between their arrival and the landing allowed Shepard to contact Sophia Waters one last time, to announce where the Normandy would be landing. Because of that, as the Normandy had settled down, EDI notified her of the approach of a wheeled all-terrain vehicle from the direction of town. Then, as soon as the ship's landing heat halo had dissipated, Shepard went down to the shuttle bay to greet their visitors, taking Nihlus and Liara with her.
By the time the three of them got there, the main ramp was down. Shepard stopped at the top of it and watched. The car was already on the beach, rocking to and fro as it crawled over the rocky surface. It came to a halt some twenty to thirty meters away from the Normandy's great shadow. Then, its three occupants emerged.
In the lead was a woman in her thirties, dressed in a dark grey pant-suit with a crisp white shirt, its collar still done up, and her black hair pulled up into a tight French twist. Standing next to her was a younger dark-haired man in a lighter grey suit, holding a mobile terminal under his arm. The third man, who had been driving, was both taller and older than both of them, wearing casual black pants, heavy boots, and a plaid-print shirt with large patches of artificial leather on the elbows.
They had driven the fifty kilometers from Blackrock to the Normandy's landing site. Something that, in the absence of a paved road, would have taken at least an hour and a half. Nonetheless, the rigid severity of the woman's dress stood out to Shepard. She also did not look particularly impressed with what she was seeing. Shepard realized that if this was Sophia Waters, then she was in for a bit of an uphill hike to get what she wanted.
Shepard met the woman's gaze across the distance between them, and waited for a good thirty seconds. The three of them did not move. It became obvious that it was up to Shepard to close the distance.
"Feel free to be as forceful as you like, Shepard," Nihlus murmured.
"For their sake, they best hope I don't have to get… forceful." Shepard replied as she started down the ramp. After a few steps she realized that she could still feel warmth radiating from the Normandy's underbelly. Maybe that was the reason why the civilians would not come any closer. At least, she chose to chalk it up to that, as anything else would irritate her.
Once down on the beach, she turned and started toward the car. The sand and rock rolled and shifted underfoot, but Shepard paid that no heed. "Hello," she called out, affecting good cheer, as soon as she was about five meters away.
"Commander Shepard, I presume?" The woman replied.
No greeting, the power plays were starting already. "Yes," Shepard replied.
"I am Sophia Waters, we talked via email," the woman went on, without so much as offering a handshake. Then her eyes slid past Shepard and stopped.
Shepard bit back her grin, the woman's expression momentarily flickered with apprehension. She was not an immovable rock. "These are my coworkers, Spectre Nihlus Kryik and Doctor Liara T'Soni. I've worked with Spectre Kryik for months, and Liara is an archeologist. She has graciously agreed to work with the Alliance team that Colonial Affairs intends to send."
"Welcome to Eden Prime, Spectre, Doctor," Sophia said, her tone never shifting off bland and disinterested.
That lack of enthusiasm, or courtesy made Shepard wonder, had the mining company sent Waters here, out on an hour-long drive, just be to tell them to turn around and go home without even stepping one foot in town? Were they that oblivious? She was going to take such a brush off from a bunch of suits. Furthermore, she now had her own Spectre credentials to use against them.
"You mentioned you wanted access to the closed mine to look for Prothean ruins, but I'm afraid it might be a waste of your time. Bluntly put, Commander, if there were any ruins inside that mine, our company would have already reported them to Colonial Affairs," Sophia went on.
Clearly they were going to try, but they would not succeed. Shepard stepped closer, "With all due respect, Miss Waters… I have a good reason to suspect there is something inside that mine that is yet to be discovered. I'm here to do a preliminary survey to confirm whether my source was right before I pass the information on to Colonial Affairs."
"That is all well and good, but, may I remind you that the Sunstone Mining Corporation has full rights to everything inside that mountain range. If you do not tell us what you are looking for, we do not have to allow you access. We have the right to conduct our own surveys. I will go over your head to remind Colonial Affairs of that."
Shepard smiled. Sophia waters froze like a doe caught in the headlights. "Then I suggest you get a step ladder, Miss Waters. You'll have to go a little higher than just Colonial Affairs to stop me from going in there. The Council knows about my sources, and I'm sure they'll be happy to remind the Sunstone Mining Corporation of the agreement made with the Earth Systems Alliance a couple decades ago. Signatories of said agreement will not withhold Prothean discoveries for private profit. Shall I go notify them? As the first human Spectre, I do have a direct link." That was a bit of a bluff, she doubted the Council would prioritize this matter, but this woman did not know that.
Sophia's eyes widened ever so slightly, betraying her shock.
Shepard waited, she could practically hear the gears in the woman's head grind. A moment later, Nihlus' warm hand landed on her shoulder.
"I suggest you do not test us, Miss Waters. You do not want to test Spectres," Nihlus stated as calmly as if he was discussing the weather. Yet the threat was there all the same.
Shepard tried not to smile. Nihlus was doing his best Saren impression again. Truly she ought to thank Saren for helping her by proxy. He would probably get a real kick out of that. That is, if he did not murder her where she stood for the audacity.
"Very well." Sophia declared after a long pause.
To Shepard the woman sounded about as pleased to utter those words as she would have been after swallowing glass.
"You will need one of our employees to show you around," she went on and motioned to the man in the plaid shirt, "Mister Fenton volunteered to be your guide. Sam, the plans."
"Yes, ma'am." The other company man turned and made his way back to the truck.
However Shepard did not have long to watch him as the man in the plaid shirt stepped forward, smiling, "Carl Fenton, at your service. I worked inside the old mine, and I'll say this now… you're going to need breathing apparatus. I don't know how much oxygen is left in the deeper sections. The mine's ventilation system has been offline since it closed."
"That's fine, Mister Fenton, our armors can supply us with breathable air."
"Good," Sophia murmured. "My assistant is going to bring up the tunnel plans for you. I assume you will want copies for your personal use, yes?"
"That'd be helpful, yes." Shepard replied. What was that 'Good' about? Was Sophia simply happy that she would not have to provide any equipment for them? Did the company have to be so obvious about the blatant and inept sabotage?
"Miss Waters, I have the plans!" the assistant called.
By then he had set the mobile terminal on the vehicle's hood and opened it up.
"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" Carl asked cheerfully.
The following discussion was brief and Shepard learned more than she revealed. Sophia watched the entire conversation like a hawk and asked many rather uncomfortable questions. Still, there was little she could do other than take whatever Shepard chose to gave her.
Carl on the other hand proved to be quite talkative and enthusiastic, rapidly forming a professional rapport with Liara. Then, despite all the time that had elapsed from the last time he had been down in the old tunnels, his memory of them was still sharp. He immediately pointed out the location of the accident responsible for the mine's closure. Then he talked about other notable features. Among them were three sections that had notably high concentrations of lodestone, and the many areas where the rock grew harder, requiring more explosives compared to the rest. Shepard would have asked questions, but could not. Doing so might tell Sophia more than she ought to know right then.
After the preliminary meeting they made arrangements for the trip into the mine. Shepard intended to use Kodiaks to fly in. Carl suggested that they could land in the old ore holding yard in front of the mine. He also volunteered to gather some needed supplies and bring them along. They set the time, and then, having said the goodbyes, Shepard watched as the colonists climbed back into the truck for the drive back into town.
The vehicle was two hundred meters away, just turning toward the dirt road that led away from the beach, when Shepard turned to Nihlus and Liara. "I don't know if you noticed, but I think we have a lead. The lodestone-rich sections Fenton mentioned were all deep inside the mine, not near the surface, and arranged in a semi-circle pointing in the same direction."
"Yes, I noticed that!" Liara said. "The ore is probably responding to the magnetic field of the core deeper inside."
Shepard nodded and smiled.
"You think the ore is actually pointing us in the right direction?" Nihlus asked.
"Has to be. I think the miners were coming close on the Ark without realizing it. It makes sense to build a huge permanent shelter where the surrounding rock is stable. What's more stable than deep inside a mountain?"
Nihlus hummed but said nothing.
"Commander, if I may?" Liara spoke up.
"Sure, I'll welcome any input."
"It might be possible to confirm this theory. We need ore samples from the different locations, record how we found them, and then then figure out the geometry of their individual magnetic field lines. If there is an artificial power core inside the mine, it may just align the field lines of the ore to point at it."
"It might be something to try, before we power up any boring drill, or anything." Shepard murmured.
"Definitely!" Liara jumped in. "I'm no geologist, but I know a little bit about the application of geology in archeology. The surrounding features of a dig site can tell us much. Deposited ground layers can be used to date sites, but it can also contain clues to what destroyed a site, or even how it was used." Liara explained as she bent down to scoop up a handful of the dark stones that covered the entire beach.
"Wouldn't hurt to try." Shepard finished.
Liara straightened, smiled, and nodded. "I want to try the test on these first. It should not take long and I have the equipment I need in my kit."
"I do not think we will need to drill anything." Nihlus declared. "The Protheans had to enter the facility somehow. We just need some indication of the right direction, and then check the tunnels that head there. Maybe there is something the miners missed."
"Also possible," Shepard nodded. "Well, no use standing around… we have some preparations to do for tomorrow." With that said she turned and made her way back to the Normandy.
When Shepard came up to the crew deck she asked EDI to summon the whole combat team to the mess area to discuss the forthcoming mission. Seeing as the majority were already on deck three, Shepard did not have to wait long, and it took almost as little to explain why they were on Eden Prime and then what they would be doing. "None of this is the typical Spectre fare… but who else could get it done? I am the only individual who knows about these… arks," Shepard finished.
"I don't know about you, but I think this beats being shot at," Jenkins said.
"He does have a point," Kaidan agreed.
Shepard honestly thought the whole thing was a milk run, but after the last couple of weeks she would not complain. In the grand scheme of things, spelunking in a mine was a vacation compared to dealing with Lindholm. "Which does bring up… I haven't decided who I want to bring with me. Obviously Doctor T'Soni will be with us-"
"You are not leaving me behind," Nihlus said.
Shepard raised an eyebrow at him, did he honestly think that she had not realized that he would continue to shadow her? Now she only needed her other shadow to volunteer.
"Shepard-Commander, we offer our assistance," Legion spoke up from the back.
Shepard blinked, Legion had beat Garrus to volunteering? Well that was interesting. If she was at all honest, she had been inclined to ask Legion to come along. After all, they could probably feel and follow any sufficiently powerful artificial magnetic field. Better to have a plan B if plan A fell through. "Will you be alright in there? It is an iron mine with a high incidence of natural magnetic lodestone. We don't know how strong the magnetic fields are in there."
"This platform is sufficiently shielded for this operation," Legion replied.
"Alright Legion, you're in." Shepard was not going to argue.
"I think I want to come too." Kaidan spoke up. "It's a mine, I'm biotic, and no offense meant Doctor T'Soni, but I've worked with this team longer."
"Oh no offense taken," Liara replied with a wave of her hand.
"Thanks, Kaidan." Shepard grinned, but then glanced toward Garrus. He really was not going to volunteer? "We'll be joined by one of the miners who had worked down there previously. So if we need to operate any equipment, he ought to be able to do it. Joker, that means you're in charge of the Normandy while we're gone."
"You got it," the pilot replied with a cocky grin flashing from underneath the bill of his ball-cap.
Eden Prime had a sixty-four Terran hour rotational period, which meant that the local solar day was completely divorced from the Terran Coordinated calendar. The start of the next day on the Normandy coincided with early evening on Eden Prime. Utopia was still a few hours away from touching the horizon, but already low enough to elongate shadows and give everything a slight orange tint. Shepard spent the fifteen minute flight in the Kodiak's cockpit with Nihlus. With no urgency she allowed herself to admire the picturesque vista of the mountains, forest, and the water. The mines being inside the mountains meant that very little ruined the scenery.
When their Kodiak arrived at the old mine's yard, Shepard was somewhat surprised to see two pickup trucks already there. Both were old-fashioned, wheeled vehicles, and looked like they had not been washed in weeks. One had two large toolboxes in the back and the other a bed-mounted generator. Carl Fenton leaned on the hood of the former, smoking a cigarette as he watched the Kodiak come in. He was clad in heavy overalls, sturdy boots, and geared out with a full torso safety harness as well as knee and elbow guards. The other truck's driver stood nearby. He was also about Carl's age, with brown hair just starting to show signs of grey, and clad in identical work gear. At the moment he was studying something on his omni-tool.
As the shuttle touched down, stirring up a large dust cloud, Carl smothered his cigarette against the side of the vehicle and stuck the rest into a pocket for later, and the other man allowed his omni-tool to turn off.
Shepard got to her feet and moved to the back compartment. Two taps of the keys told the Kodiak to open its side hatch and she slipped out as soon the opening was wide enough. By then both men were within a few meters of the craft.
"Commander! Pleasure to see you again," Carl called in greeting. "Hope you don't mind, but I brought along a friend, figured two is better than one."
"You won't hear me protesting," Shepard replied as she drew near. "I'm Commander Shepard, SSV Normandy." She offered the other man a hand to shake.
He gave her hand a two second shake without squeezing her fingers, "Denis Benoit. I worked with Carl inside that mine, and figured if he was going back in, it'd be best I come too."
"The more, the merrier," Shepard replied.
His dark brown eyes slid past her shoulder and less than an instant later he froze solid.
Shepard knew what that reaction meant. "Mister Fenton should have mentioned my team, they will be going with us inside the mine." That would do to pull his attention back to her.
"Hello again, Mister Fenton, hello Mister Benoit," Liara greeted.
"This is Doctor Liara T'Soni, Prothean expert and archeologist," Shepard slipped in.
"Told you they're big shots," Carl said to his friend.
Denis nodded mutely. Shepard was keenly aware of the fact that his eyes never once strayed to Liara. That could only mean one thing. "The others are my partner, Council Spectre Nihlus Kryik, Lieutenant Alenko, and Legion." Shepard went on.
"You have a synthetic unit?" Denis asked, surprised.
"Legion is…" Shepard stopped there, did she want to say that Legion was a Geth?
"This unit is designated Legion. A terminal of the Geth." Legion stepped in.
Both men took a quick step back. Yes, Shepard mused ruefully, Legion had just stepped on a metaphorical bomb. Well, the cat was now out of the bag, there was no shoving it back in. "Don't worry, they're friendly." What were the odds that the miners would take her on her word? "Legion has very sensitive sensory, they can help me find whatever it is that's in there." She flicked her hand in the vague direction of the mountain, hoping a change of topic coupled with movement would distract the civilians.
Denis turned to Carl with an unspoken question in his gaze. Carl shrugged, stuck his hands into the pockets of his pants, and turned to Shepard. "Something tells me you wouldn't need sensors of that sort if you were looking for just any old ruins."
Shepard smiled sheepishly, that was an obvious conclusion to make, no? "You're right. I didn't want to say this around Miss Waters, but I suspect there might be a functional Prothean facility of some sort in there. I'm looking for the magnetic field of its decaying power core."
"Like the Mars ruins?" Denis asked, suddenly clearly interested.
"Similar, yes." Shepard replied. They did not need to know that instead of laboratories or archives, this one might contain thousands of stasis pods, or the possibility that some might still be functional.
"Well hot damn, that would explain the place's oddities, wouldn't it?" Carl announced as he looked at his friend again.
"It explains them a little too well, I think," Denis agreed, more grimly.
"Miss Waters is going to be mighty pissed that you kept that part from her," Carl went on. Then he shifted his weight from foot to foot and then back again. "But hell if we care, right Denis? They called us crazy when we said there was something weird in there. If it's something like the Mars ruins- we'll be the first to see them… that'll be a story for the dinner table."
Denis shook his head, clearly less enthusiastic about the prospect than Carl. "This is why I'm here, Carl. To keep you from getting ahead of yourself, but alright… let's do this." With that said he turned and made his way toward the equipment truck.
Carl watched him go, but then turned back to Shepard, "Don't mind him, Commander. Denis may not be as adventurous as I am… but you're in good hands. Now come on! I think I know where we might start looking for that facility!"
Author Notes: This new arc gave me grief. I had to sit down and reconcile and set in stone a lot of things. Spoiler now, this arc will lead to a lot of revelations and it will even begin the journey towards answers regarding Harby and Nazzy. The delay was down to me feeling pressured to get it right.
General Notes:
Bad Humor – The Charcoalbriquette exchange was sparked by the quip Joker makes after Therum, about the Normandy landing in lava, and what it would do their hull. Once again, I took the basic core of that exchange, and just transplanted a more fitting context.
Chapter Notes:
Nothing here…