A Standup Philosopher
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Shadows and Dust 16
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 11:00:12 +0000 UTCThe initial Council meeting was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a bit disappointing. They had confirmed, after it was over and the audience had dispersed, that her candidacy was still valid and that her evaluation was still underway, but without further information on the attack and why it had happened, the three most powerful people in the galaxy (officially speaking, anyway) hadn’t been able or willing to do much more than pledge humanitarian aid and investigation efforts. As much as Udina had complained, demanded that they take decisive military action, Sparatus of the Turians had quite reasonably pointed out that they could hardly defend every planet, certainly not with sufficient strength to actually fight an attack off. Battlegroups were being concentrated at key relays for rabid response to any planets that actually came under attack, but without sufficient intelligence and a better understanding of their enemy’s capabilities, the Council wasn’t willing to send ships and soldiers haring off into the void.
On a purely emotional level, Cassandra was just as unhappy as mankind’s ambassador. She, too, wanted the full might of the galaxy hunting down those that had attacked and killed her star-nation and it’s people, laying them to waste wherever they could be found. Her more logical side, however, understood where the Council was coming from. Piecemeal detachments stumbling blind through the relays were just asking to get ambushed and butchered, especially if that monster cuttlefish dreadnaught was involved. She hadn’t seen it fight, but if it had a core big enough to let it not only land on a planet’s surface, but take off and achieve orbit at the velocity it did, it’s barriers and main weapon had to be like nothing the Citadel had ever seen before.
Hopefully, Nihlus and the collected reports from the ground team would be enough to convince the Council of that fact, or at least drive the point home. Despite their outward skepticism during the public portion of the report, she had gotten the very distinct impression that they had -if not believing the reports outright- been willing to consider the possibility. Well, their armor recordings would solve that issue handily, she was sure, though she was equally sure that their public skepticism would probably remain for the sake of keeping the public calm. Whether that was a wiser choice than warning people up-front so that they knew about the threat, Cassie couldn’t say. There were certainly good arguments on both sides of that particular issue, and she couldn’t help but feel rather glad that it wasn’t a decision that she had to make.
Not that she had been making any decisions for the last several hours, because the moment the initial meeting had been over, she and her team had been piled into an utterly nondescript airbus, one with windows so heavily tinted that they might as well have not existed to begin with for all the view they provided, and shuffled off to the Beelo Gurji Medical Center. The completely secret, no-official-address hospital for SPECTRE agents and their retinues, where her team would get the treatment they needed for any injuries suffered and where she had gotten exhaustively evaluated for any potential damage or lingering effects from her encounter with the beacon. An evaluation that, she was sure, would come up with nothing out of the ordinary. Or, at least, nothing out of the ordinary for her. It wasn’t as if the doctors assigned here could find her psionic abilities or the White-Hot Room with their instruments, after all.
Probably, anyway. The Alliance had never picked up on anything, but who knew what the secret doctors with the secret equipment in the secret hospital could end up finding?
“Lieutenant-Commander?”
A knock on the door drew her from her thoughts, and she looked up as it opened to admit an asari matron, though by the looks of things she was probably on the edge of being a matriarch. It was always hard to tell age with asari, honestly. They held up against the ravages of time and ageing unfairly well. Auntie B and Auntie A were nearly a millennia old each and looked to be in their fifties at most in human terms.
“That’s me.” she acknowledged, dipping her head respectfully, and the other woman smiled as she stepped into the room, closely followed by a much younger member of her race. One that bore an obvious and startling likeness.
“Good. I’m Doctor Anasi Dantius, and this is my daughter Tamera. She’s rather newer to Beelo Gurji than I am, but she has held her own doctorate for nearly a century, so I assure you she is entirely competent.” she introduced herself and her companion, and Cassandra couldn’t help the way she reared back slightly with widening eyes at their names. The movement was entirely to obvious to be missed, and she grimaced faintly at the change in expression that swept over the two professionals at the sight of it, but even as she opened her mouth to apologize the older of the pair continued. “Ah, I should have guessed that you would be familiar with my family, given how close you and your family are with the T’soni’s. Rest assured that I want to have as little to do with the rest of my clan as possible, and I equally assure you I will be nothing but professional. That being said, if you would prefer someone else…”
“No! God, no, I’m sorry. That was rude of me!” Cassie blurted, cutting her off and shaking her head firmly, waving both hands in a negating gesture. “If the Council has you and your daughter working on their SPECTREs, than you’re obviously trustworthy. It’s just…well, like you said, I’m close to the T’soni’s, and they’ve mentioned your House a few times…?”
“I have no doubt that they did.” the words were clipped, though the relaxing of the posture, tone, and mind were all quite clear. Shaking her head, the doctor smiled again. “Well, as I say, I prefer not to associate with them, and the feeling is quite mutual on their part. Now, your Doctor Chakwas sent along her preliminary reports and evaluations on your part, and I’ve been provided access to the vast majority of your records from the Alliance as well. That is going to make treating you now and later considerably easier, and I have to admit that I’m very impressed with Doctor Chakwas’ work and knowledge from what little I’ve seen of it.” She paused for a moment, and Cassandra smiled softly at the praise. A smile that smoothed into expressive non-expression as Dantius continued. “That being said, I did only receive the vast majority of your records from the Alliance. My compliments to whoever did the removals, they were very artistically done. Most doctors in most hospitals, military or civilian alike, wouldn’t have realized anything was missing. I, however, did. I can’t ensure your health and safety nor perform my duties to you properly without the full width and breadth of your information, Agent-Prospect. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on being provided access to the rest.”
Cassandra's eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned back on the examination table, crossing her arms over her chest. A defensive gesture, which probably wouldn’t win her any favors, but it wasn’t like she could bluff her way out of this anyway. The other woman wasn’t dumb enough to buy any yarn that she could spin if she was smart and experienced enough to spot the redactions to begin with. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that, Doctor Dantius. If certain information has been redacted from my records, it's been done for a reason, and I'm not authorized to override those redactions."
"Commander Shepard," the older asari said, her tone shifting to something approaching reproachful, if still eminently respectful, "I understand your reluctance, but you must understand my position. This isn't about curiosity or bureaucracy. SPECTREs operate under extreme conditions, and I cannot in good conscience clear you for further duty without understanding your complete medical profile."
Tamera shifted uncomfortably beside her mother, her eyes darting between the two women, neither of whom seemed willing to budge, both with good reason. "Perhaps we could focus on the immediate concerns first? The Prothean beacon exposure?"
“…it will be difficult to properly evaluate the effects of exposure to the beacon without a complete and accurate baseline to work from, but the records I have on hand and the preliminary report should be sufficient. For the time being.” the elder Dantius agreed, everything about the statement making it clear that the matter was by no means dropped, nor even indefinitely postponed. Which was fair, every point she made was entirely fair and reasonable, its just that Cassie was in no way going to go against the decisions of her superiors over something like this.
But that didn't mean she was unwilling to try and find an acceptable middle-ground, a compromise to make everyone relatively happy.
"How about this, then." she offered, uncrossing her arms in a conscious effort to appear more open, letting her expression loosen at the same time. "I'll contact Admiral Hackett directly as soon as this meeting is over. If he authorizes releasing additional information to you—specifically to you, with appropriate security protocols—then we can revisit this. He has the authority to override most of the redactions, or will have a direct line to the people who can if he’s not high enough."
Dr. Dantius considered this for a moment, her expression turning first thoughtful, then hesitantly approving. "That would be acceptable, provided it happens promptly. The sooner I have complete information, the better I can treat you. And, to be frank, the Council would be well within their rights to withdraw or pause your evaluation approval until they know that the redacted information won’t compromise your ability to perform in the field."
"I'll make the call as soon as we're done here, and I’ll make sure to let Admiral Hackett know." Cassandra promised, accepting the warning and advice in the nature that it was given, before shifting topics. "Now, about the beacon. I'm not sure what you've been told, how much information outside of the medical you received, but the interaction was apparently...unusual."
"Define unusual," Tamera spoke up, activating the recording function of her omni-tool and holding it steady. “And please, be as detailed as possible, both with what happened and any resulting events or side-effects you have experienced since. The more information we have, the better we can understand.”
“Well, it looked undamaged, as far as any of us could tell. Two members of my team, Williams and Bhatia, are survivors of the Eden Prime garrison. They were running security for the dig site itself, so they got a good look at it before the attack started, and they said it looked exactly the same before it exploded as it did when it was dug up.” she started, feeling the need to stress the point -if subtly- that neither she nor her team had any reason to believe the beacon was damaged nor needed special treatment. “So we didn’t think there was an issue with getting closer to it. Once we finished off the last of the hostiles in the area, Williams went to double check it’s condition. It…grabbed her, is the only way I can describe it. The minute she was within twenty feet or so, it started to drag her in like a fish on a line. No matter how hard she tried to get away from it, she couldn’t. So I grabbed her and threw her away, but it grabbed me instead. That’s all I remember from the actual event, though they told me it lifted me up in the air and held me there for a minute or so before it exploded.”
“Certainly unusual. Beacon’s aren’t known to have such a forceful reaction to those near them, certainly not going so far as to forcefully drag someone towards itself, and at such a distance as well. Clearly, there must have been some sort of internal damage, especially if it exploded not long thereafter. This situation might be entirely unique, though I admit I’m hardly an archaeologist or a historian.” Anasi mused with a thoughtful frown, drumming her fingers lightly on the back of her datapad. After a moment, she shrugged slightly and continued. “Now, side-effects? Doctor Chakwas mentioned extraordinarily vivid nightmares and some severe disorientation and emotional dysregulation in the initial minutes after you woke up again? That certainly fits in with your brain scans, but go ahead and tell me about it.”
“Not sure how much I can tell you. It’s mostly a jumble, like most nightmares. There were machines, enormous, countless machines that were destroying everything. A sense of immense, overriding fear. Not just me, either. It felt like a huge crowd, more people than you could count, all screaming out in horror and rage and confusion. Like Mindoir or Anhur, but worse, honestly.” she responded slowly, eyes going a bit distant as she tried to parse what little she remembered. “Battles, flight, desperately hiding, the feeling of being hunted and the knowledge that they’ll find you no matter what you do. Towards the end, when I was close to waking up, they shifted towards more typical concerns about loved ones, family and friends, but before that it’s all…vague but potent horror, I guess.”
Tamera tapped something into her datapad, nodding slightly as she hummed softly to herself. "That tracks with what little we know about Prothean beacons. They're believed to be communication and storage devices that use some form of direct neural interface. The messages they contained were likely meant for other Protheans, whose neurophysiology would have been adapted to process such information. For an unprepared human brain..." she glanced at her mother.
"For an unprepared human brain, it's remarkable you're functioning as well as you are, Cassandra." Dr. Dantius finished. "Most species would experience severe trauma from such a violent and direct interface. Your scans show unusually high activity in several regions associated with memory processing and visual interpretation, but nothing that indicates permanent damage."
“That makes sense, but why doesn’t this sort of thing happen all the time, if Prothean beacons aren’t designed for any of us? Neurophysically, I mean?” Cassandra couldn’t help but ask, and the two asari exchanged glances before turning their eyes back to her.
“Most known beacons, still-functional ones anyway, have been discovered by asari, or otherwise interacted with by asari. The current presumption in academia is that our own unique physiology, with our natural biotics and our ability to meld, is enough to make us sufficiently ‘prothean-like’ to not suffer ill side-effect from experiencing a beacon directly. Furthermore, more often than not, such as with your own Mars ruins, interfaces were left behind by client races of the protheans, so actually having to directly interact with the beacon itself is incredibly unusual.” the younger Dantius responded for them both, and Cassandra pursed her lips thoughtfully. Her Lia had talked about such things more than once, and as little interest in xenoarchaeology as Cassie had, she adored her lover enough to listen to her talk about it for hours. Besides, her Lia was nothing short of enthralling when she was being passionate and nerdy about things she loved. Enthralling and arousing.
“At any rate, we’ll look into things more deeply, and the evaluation might be adjusted in the face of subsequent information, but for the time being it looks as though there is no lingering damage or trauma. As such, you’re provisionally cleared to go join the rest of your team and go about your business on the Citadel. I’ll keep in touch about the results of the testing we’ve done today, and I’ll expect to hear from your superior’s shortly.” the elder finished, her tone pointed, and Cassandra silently nodded in submission as she got to her feet. Seemingly satisfied, the doctor hummed. “Good. In that case, Tamera will show you out, and I’ll reach out to you sometime in the next day or so with the initial results. Have a good day, Agent-Prospect.”
"Thank you, Doctor Dantius, you as well." Cassandra replied, following Tamera out of the examination room. The younger woman, who was probably not far off of Liara’s age, now that she thought about it, led her through a series of pristinely white corridors that seemed deliberately designed to be confusing. Whether that was for security purposes or simply asari architectural preferences, Cassie couldn't say, though she was willing to bet that the answer was -as it was with so many things- both.
"Your team has been cleared as well and is waiting in the reception area," Tamera informed her, her voice professional but with an undercurrent of curiosity. "If you don't mind my asking, Commander... what was it like? The beacon, I mean. You talked about the dreams, of course, but do you remember anything of dealing with the beacon itself?"
Cassandra considered the question carefully, wondering how much she could really say between her own lacking recollections and the secrets she had to keep. Something simple but honest, perhaps, and as vague as possible. "Like drowning in someone else's memories, I guess. Memories that weren't meant for me to see or understand."
Tamera nodded thoughtfully. "Fascinating. Most documented beacon encounters are... well, classified. It's rare to speak with someone who's experienced one firsthand. And, as we said, you’re the only non-asari to interact with a beacon in this way to actually survive. Please, let us know if anything changes, for better or worse, won’t you?"
"Of course. I know better than to lie to a doc, directly or otherwise." Cassandra promised with a nod, and they continued on their way in relative silence. When they reached the reception area, she found Alenko, Williams, Bhatia and (surprisingly) Nihlus all waiting for her. Each in various states of agitation, at least judging by body language, though Bhatia seemed to be the most on edge. Unsurprisingly, given the fact that a message had come not long after they had entered the Serpent Nebula that her husband had gotten onto a priority shuttle to the Citadel the minute he had seen that Eden Prime had been attacked. She wanted to see him, wanted to hold him, and Cassie could sympathize. She certainly wanted Liara right now, even if only to talk to her via omni-tool, but Therum -the sight of her current dig- was particularly famous for ruining long-distance communication signals thanks to the volcanic ash-laden atmosphere.
"Commander, good to see you. Welcome back." Alenko greeted, standing to attention as she approached.
"At ease, Lieutenant. We’re not on duty." she replied automatically, before nodding to the rest of them. "You all look like you've been waiting a while. Sorry about that."
"Not at all, Commander." Nihlus assured her, stepping forward. "We were just discussing our next steps. The Council is considering our reports and my debrief, and looking at the preliminary take from the various intelligence services, so we’re at something of a loose end for the moment. Miss Bhatia was hoping to meet up with her husband, but I’m certainly willing to give all of you a tour of the Citadel’s major attractions, if you’ve the interest.”
"I'd certainly appreciate that," Cassandra replied with a nod to Nihlus, smiling a small but genuine smile. "But I know Bhatia is eager to see her husband. Why don't we split up for now and meet later? I need to make a secure call to Admiral Hackett first, anyway."
"That would be perfect, ma'am," Bhatia said, relief evident in her voice. "The transportation authority said Samesh should be arriving at Docking Bay E-24 within the hour. I’d…I’d really like to be waiting for him when he disembarks, ma’am."
Williams stepped forward, raising a hand slightly. "I can escort her, Commander, if that’s okay with you. After everything we've been through on Eden Prime, I think we could both use some time to process, and neither of us is familiar with the Citadel, so…"
"Good idea, Ash, thanks." Cassandra agreed a bit absently, not noticing the faint smile on the other woman’s lips at the use of her name. "Alenko, why don't you go with them? I'd feel better knowing you're all watching each other's backs, even on the Citadel. Especially on the Citadel, this is a whole new environment for you guys."
"Understood, Commander." Alenko yielded immediately, before pausing. “Will we rendezvous with you later, ma’am? If so, when and where?”
“Check in after the loving couple settles in a bit. Samesh and Nirali can join our little tour, or they can spend it getting reacquainted with one another.” Cassie responded, flashing a grin at the Indian corpsman, who blushed and looked away from the rest of the group as they chuckled softly. “Nihlus, you can stick with me or do your own thing until then, if you like. I dunno how long my call with Hackett will take, though, so it might be a bit of a boring wait.”
“I need to check in at HQ for a few things, visit the Supply Officer and such. Give me a call when whoever wants the tour is ready, and I’ll come pick you up. Good?” the turian suggested, and Cassandra nodded.
“Sounds good to me. We’ll talk in a bit, then.” she finished the conversation with a wave of farewell, already considering what she would say to the man that was, arguably, the most influential admiral in the Alliance Navy. And she would be reaching out to him in regards to file that he himself had likely had a hand in censoring. No pressure there, right?
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Tali’zorah nar Rayya had not had a good last few days. First, the geth had shown up for the first time in centuries, something that was guaranteed to make any quarian deeply emotional, and with good reason. Tolerating the existence of the genocidal AI that had driven you off of your homeworld and out of your entire sector of the galaxy was hard enough when they were silently and passively squatting amongst the stars that they had stolen. It was considerably harder when they were not just active across several planets, but launching attacks on settled worlds. Then, while trying to do the right thing and turn evidence on who was behind the attack on Eden Prime over to the proper authorities, they had been repeatedly ambushed by fucking turians that had tried -and succeeded, in regards to her fellows- to murder them for some reason.
Now she had finally gotten to the Citadel, been roundly ignored by C-sec, had her Captain practically die in her arms, and was trapped with little hope of her life improving. The only bright point in her life was an encounter with a vorcha, of all things, that said he could put her in touch with the Shadow Broker, in return for a percentage of the fee she would no doubt be paid for the information. She had almost scoffed in his face, because obviously the short little bastard would care more about the money that he could make from the information than helping her prevent more massacres, but she didn’t have much of a choice besides accepting. She would just make sure that giving the information to the authorities was a part of her fee, or something. She’d figure it out, she always had so far, and she just had to hope to figure it out again this time.
Hopefully, before her emergency rations ran out, because she didn’t have the credits to buy food at the increased prices a quarian was sure to be charged, provided she was even able to find someone willing to help in the first place. She could probably approach the Human Embassy if she really had to, she knew humanity was pretty sympathetic to her people, but she hadn’t had much luck accessing that part of the Citadel when she had tried to give them the bloody intel, so she wasn’t sure that looking for charity would go any better.
As if summoned by her thoughts, her omni-tool chimed softly, and she lifted it curiously. Very few people had the information required to contact her, after all, and fewer still would reach out to her right now. Her father, perhaps, or someone else from The Fleet, if word had gotten back to them already about what had happened, but she doubted it. She was on Pilgrimage, and that meant she was supposed to get by without support or contact from her people. Likewise, she wasn’t supposed to reach out to them until and unless her Pilgrimage was complete, which it most certainly wasn’t. A single glance at the sender had her frowning deeply, because it was from an address that was both unknown to her, and was various obviously scrambled. Feh, a spam call, no doubt, or maybe some enterprising hacker was calling to threaten her or something of the sort. That had happened a few times on more than a few worlds, though the stupid bosh’tets were never as good as they thought they were, because she always counter-hacked them and -usually- ended up getting them in trouble with the local members of law enforcement by cracking their systems and spilling them onto the local nets.
She would never understand why perverts and criminals would keep everything on the same systems that they tried to hack from, never considering what would happen if they lost the digital fight. Dismissing the call with a flick of her wrist, she went back to her thoughts. It was almost a shame turning in the information on the Eden Prime attack wouldn’t be sufficient for her Pilgrimage, but she had to admit that it didn’t directly help the Fleet. Obliquely, maybe, if it galvanized the Alliance and/or the Citadel into finally dealing with the damned geth, but not directly. And directly aiding and improving the Fleet was what the Pilgrimage was all about, so…
There was another chime from her omni-tool, the same sound as before, but this time things went rather differently when she lifted it to see what was going on. This time, when the interface reached eye height, it activated all on it’s own to display video. Video of a shadowy figure, featureless and vague, sitting at some sort of desk. Before she could say anything, or close out the link, or do much of anything at all, the figure spoke.
“Miss Zorah, when you’re waiting for a call from someone you’ve reached out to, it’s typically good manners to answer when they reach out to you. Not declining the connection.” they said with dry, wry sarcasm, and she froze as any contemplations of protest or complain vanished from her mind, along with most of the air in her lungs. Then she was babbling, apologies and pleas spilling from her lips in a jumbled mess, because keelah she had hung up on the Shadow Broker! Shaking their head, the figure cut her off a minute into the torrent, holding up a hand. “That’s quite enough of that. I recommend answering the next time. It might be something important, and you can always hang up on someone if you have to. Now, onto business. My agent said that you had information on who was behind the attack on Eden Prime?”
“I do, yes. I was able to recover a partial recording from a geth unit I disabled. No visuals, but I do have audio of two organics discussing the attack, and it’s obvious from the way that they talk that they were closely involved, if they weren’t the actual planners to begin with.” she confirmed promptly, straightening instinctually in response to the air of age and the tone of command that the Broker used. “I don’t know why or how the geth are working with organics, but they definitely were organics, and one of them was definitely a turian from the harmonics in their voice. I tried to turn it in to the authorities, but no one was willing to talk to me. I don’t care what you pay me, I just want to make sure that people get this information so that they can stop the geth.”
“Admirable.” the Broker hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in their chair for a moment before meeting her eyes -how Tali knew that was what was happening, she couldn’t say, but it was true- and continuing. “Provided that you’re not trying to sell me some sort of flim-flam, I’ll make sure you get well-rewarded for this, Miss Zorah. I’ll arrange for you to meet a woman by the name of Shepard. She’ll here you out and check the information. If it’s legitimate, I’ll hear about it from my sources and contact you again. I want you to head towards a bar called Chora’s Den, that’s where the meeting will take place.”
“Shepard? Wait, really? Like Hannah Shepard?” Tali blurted excitedly, eyes practically sparkling beneath her mask, and the Broker tilted their head to the side. She could almost picture them raising an eyebrow at her.
“No, her daughter Cassandra is the person you’ll be passing your intel to. She was there during the attack, and she’s on the Citadel right now. A couple of words in the right ear and she’ll come right to you. I have to say, people your age are usually more interested in the younger Shepard, not the older.”
"The Dragon is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but The Fox? She’s the greatest! We used her tactics from Shanxi a few months ago on some pirates that tried to attack the Fleet, we took practically no casualties and were able to salvage two frigates after the battle! She’s amazing, a genius!” Tali responded, well aware that she was -as the humans would say- ‘fangirling’ a little, but not caring for a moment. To her surprise, the Broker chuckled slightly, shaking their head.
“Well, you’re honest. I can appreciate that. Get moving, kiddo. I’d rather not risk the information you’re holding getting lost because some enterprising prick takes a shot at you.” they said, before the connection cut off.
“…huh. I dunno why everyone is always talking about how scary the Broker is. Seemed nice enough to me.” Tali mused to herself after a moment of thoughtful silence, before shrugging and pulling up a basic map of the Citadel. She wasn’t exactly the sort of girl that frequented bars, even back on the Fleet, and it wasn’t like she had any idea where she was going on the Citadel itself, but public businesses were required to be on the public maps, so it shouldn’t be hard for her to find her way there.
Seeing that it would take her nearly two hours to walk there was…less than spectacular, but she was sure that she could do it. She was a pretty tough girl, after all, and if she stuck to the more populated areas she would be safer. More uncomfortable and dealing with more assholes, to be sure, but safer. And she was used to dealing with assholes.
With a determined nod to herself, Tali set off through the winding corridors of the Citadel, keeping her map open on her omni-tool and her eyes peeled for trouble. The Wards were a maze of interconnected passageways, markets, and residential blocks that seemed designed to confuse newcomers. Or perhaps that was just her own inexperience with the station showing. After all, she was used to the passageways of the Rayya, which was both considerably smaller and considerably simpler to navigate. Not to mention she had been wandering those same passageways since she got her first suit. Either way, she kept her head down and her pace brisk, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and occasional muttered comments that followed her.
"A fucking suit rat, on the Citadel?"
"What's a quarian doing here?"
"Watch your credit chit, it might take a stroll..."
The words stung, but she'd heard worse. Much worse. At least no one was actively trying to stop her or chase her away, which was more than she could say for some of her experiences since leaving the Fleet. Besides, if they knew what she was doing, they would be bowing down and begging to kiss her feet in thanks. Without her, they’d probably fumble in the dark for weeks or months looking for an explanation to the latest threat to bear down on the Citadel. Well, whatever. Let them insult her and talk behind her back. She was strong and she was independent, and she wasn’t about to let a bunch of judgmental jerks send her scurrying back home empty-handed.
She had just turned into a slightly less crowded corridor when her omni-tool pinged with a notification. Pausing under the pretense of checking a shop display, she glanced down to, by some remarkable coincidence, see a public transit alert. There was a shuttle route (discounted by fifty percent for the next two hours only) that would take her within a block or two of Chora's Den, cutting her journey time by more than half. The fare wasn't extravagant, but even reduced by half it would still take a bite out of her dwindling resources. And if a certain someone had managed to arrange it, well, she wasn’t going to complain too loudly. Or at all, really.
"Worth it." she muttered to herself, promptly changing direction toward the nearest transit hub. She could spare the credits if it meant getting to safety faster, especially if meeting with Shepard —the Cassandra Shepard!— meant a potential and sizeable payday from the Shadow Broker to compensate for the loss. Besides, she'd heard enough stories about the lower Wards to know that walking alone through some of those areas wasn't the wisest choice for anyone, let alone a lone quarian female. She didn’t need to risk disappearing in some dark hole, especially since a quick death would arguably be the most pleasant result for her if she did.
Fifteen minutes in a cramped, smelly shuttle -though it might have been her fellow passengers that were smelly- with three vorcha, a hanar and an elcor might have been uncomfortable under other circumstances, but frankly Tali was to grateful for the faster transit time to really focus on it too much. Though if it had lasted any longer than it did, that might not have stayed the case. When she disembarked, she found herself in a section of the Wards that was both more crowded and somehow seedier than where she'd been before. Neon signs painted the walls and walkways in garish colors, while various advertisements hawked everything from weapons to gambling to pleasures of a more intimate nature.
According to her map, Chora's Den was just around the corner and down a short corridor. Hells, she could hear and almost feel the bass from here, and she couldn’t even see the establishment yet. Rounding the corner, she was greeted by a sign featuring a stylized asari dancer in a pose that made her blush beneath her mask.
"Great. A strip club. Of course it’s a strip club. God forbid there be one bar in the fucking galaxy that didn’t have asari shaking their tits at everything and everyone in the building.” she groused, rubbing her faceplate in embarrassed exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m going to meet The Dragon, the daughter of The Fox, and it’s going to be in a strip club. Gods of old, what is my life turning into.”
Squaring her shoulders and slipping through the front door, she paused just over the threshold to take the sight in. It was almost painfully typical for a small club, at least according to the vids and pictures that she had seen in the past. A large circular room, with tables and stools around the perimeter, a few smaller alcoves with tables of a very different sort. In the middle, the bar, with a large dancing platform just above it. And yep, there were the asari, moving to the pulsing throb of the beat, and she found herself forced to drag her eyes away. Now, where was the darkest corner oh gods no, not the darkest corner, nope. That was already occupied, and she immediately resolved to find herself a seat on the far side of the room from that.
Just as she was weighing her seating options, none of which were particularly appealing to her, a subtle ping from her omni-tool caught her attention. A simple text message, from an address just as scrambled as the Broker's had been, though different in composition. Interesting, she thought absently, that it would be a different channel from before. Was there a reason for that beyond simple paranoia?
"Look for a human woman in Alliance blues near the bar. Red hair, green eyes. That's your contact."
Tali scanned the room, trying not to look too obvious about it and probably failing terribly. She’d never been particularly good at subterfuge. Between the flashing lights, writhing dancers, and general haze of the club, it took her a moment to spot her target. But there she was: Commander Cassandra Shepard, looking terribly comfortable and natural, and Tali had to wonder if the stories about Citadel soldiers were true. Did they really all spend so much time in strip clubs that it was normal to them? Then again, who was she to know what normal was for the rest of the galaxy? It’s not like the quarians had strip clubs, after all, for obvious reasons, so maybe she wasn’t the best judge. At any rate, the woman was leaning against the bar, toying with a tumbler of some amber liquid, her eyes constantly scanning the room with an intent sharpness that was clear even at this distance. Looking for her, Tali supposed, and she took a deep breath before starting across the room.
Before she could reach the bar, however, she noticed a group of turians entering the club, their eyes scanning the crowd with predatory intent. One of them pointed in her direction, and Tali felt her heart rate spike as she recognized him. It was one of Jacoobus’ subordinates, which meant that these men were from the same group that had been trying to kill her ever since she found the geth data.
Changing course mid-stride, Tali ducked behind a cluster of patrons, using their bodies as cover while she tried to figure out her next move. She needed to reach Shepard without drawing attention to either of them. The last thing she wanted was to lead trouble directly to her only ally on the station.
Shepard, meanwhile, had spotted the turians as well. Her posture shifted subtly, her hand drifting closer to what Tali assumed was a concealed weapon. The human's eyes, meanwhile, traced the path of her pursuers and met her own. She froze, pinned briefly in place by those emerald eyes as they narrowed in scrutiny and…and something else, before turning away to look at the approaching group as she tapped away at her ‘tool. Tali’s own omni-tool chimed again, the same address as the last, and her eyes widened as she realized why it had been different.
“Stay where you are, I’ll handle this.” the message said, and she watched as Shepard took a step towards the group of turians with a smirk on her lips and what could only be described as a saunter in her gait.
Tali might not have been in many bars, but she could sense trouble on the horizon, and she was a firm believer in discretion being the better part of valor. Shepard clearly had a plan, and far be it for her to go against that plan. She just hoped that the human’s plan was a good one, because they were outnumbered, outgunned, and any sort of help was gods only know where.
Then again, this was perhaps the second most famous, and certainly the deadliest, human in the galaxy, so maybe Tali shouldn’t be worried about a thing.
Comments
Burnsidhe
"site of her current dig"
HistoricalHijinks
Honestly, Bioware didn't work very hard at all. It's funny, really. Everyone screams about how racist Ashley is -totally ignoring the significant logic to her arguments and the fact that she is right about a lot of it, like the Council hanging Humanity out to dry as they focused on saving themselves, i.e. the 'bear and dog' comment Ash made in ME1- and totally misses that literally everyone is racist as hell, including Bro For Life Garrus.
heh
TALI! Also good stuff with the racism, even with Tali as a major character in all three games BioWare never delved that deeply into the topic
