Massive Disaster 5-14

“So, this is the plan?”

There wasn’t much of a plan, actually.

Zedd was realizing that quickly enough, when the new human Spectre had called them all for a briefing in the conference room. Even with the place packed with bodies of different shapes, sizes, and races, the filters kept the taste of the place about as stale and sanitized as a hospital waiting room.

Which was… good, honestly.

Rather not taste Krogan sweat. Which brought up questions about what Krogan sweat tasted like on top of that. 

And that brought up questions about whether people would buy an energy drink — maybe a workout supplement — called Krogan Sweat. Brown eyes narrowed as Zedd made sure to remind himself later about that marketing opportunity.

Truthfully, plan aside, he was also bored out of his mind, boots propped up on the edge of the table as he was forced to deal with eezo-laced hum of the SR-1 that nobody else seemed to track.

“We’re just supposed to trust this?” 

He allowed himself a sigh as Ashley Williams continued the rant of hers that had taken up the last minute or so of meeting time, the voice of the Gunnery Chief cutting through the pressurized quiet. Twenty crates of VESTs missing. Probably Skellian pirates. Thumb dragging across the blue-tinted holo-face of his omni, Zedd did his best to tune her out as he kept on scrolling through data feeds from a VCA supply depot not too far from Eden Prime. Need to authorize a Blueguard strike.

“Because I really don’t find any of them very trustworthy.” Ashley took a half-step forward, plates of her hardsuit scraping slightly with the sharp sound of treated ceramics. Kaidan stood behind her, the man holding a hand to his head with his eyes closed. “Chasing the ghost of a lead from a geth memory core of all things, and our primary backup are two rogue N7s, a krogan mercenary, a turian, a quarian and…”

Her gaze dragged across the room, landing to burn a hole in the side of his head. “Him.”

“You know…” Zedd didn’t break his scrolling rhythm even as his ears pricked up. “There’s some people who would kill for that lineup.”

“This is not one of your jokes!” N7 Marines had a tone to them, a military tension to them that probably came from the cognitive dissonance of being buddy-buddy with the Turians that tried to kick their shit in a generation ago. “It’s not one of your boardrooms or nightclubs either. This is an Alliance warship. We are serious about what we do here.”

Zedd tapped the display, the data feed collapsing as he ended his scroll. Silver-framed aviators sat in front of him, just beside his elevated legs, Zedd’s gaze sliding to them for a second as he raised his head. 

“Clearly.” Eyes bare, he blinked over at the woman saying her piece. “I mean, my boardroom doesn’t have caf that tastes like raw engine runoff. It’s at least filtered engine runoff.” He shook his head, palming his aviators with a swipe. “And I’d watch my mouth around the people subsidizing my firepower.”

The holo-map of the galaxy continued to rotate in a silent swirl of stars indifferent to the spiking cortisol in the room.

“You watch your mouth, Victors.”

Silver frames slipped back onto his face as Shepard snapped at him, blue lenses cooling the harsh lighting of the room but doing nothing to ease the chill from Jane’s glare. Her arms remained crossed over her chest, jaw locked so tight a muscle jumped rhythmically beneath the pale skin of her cheek. 

Beside her, her ‘big’ brother maintained his anchor position, projecting the perfect warm image of calm to balance out his sister’s ice.

Yeah, yeah, sure. Like I said anything. Rolling his eyes behind his glasses, Zedd let his gaze slide across the rest of the room; the place a silent zoo. Garrus leaned back against the far wall, the warhawk’s mandibles twitching slow as he simply stared at the squabbling. Tali sat hunched over a datapad, helmeted head tucked down and shoulders curled inward as she practically folded her small frame into the shadows. 

The resident Krogan, on the other hand, took up a massive chunk of real estate; the entire corner of the room occupied by a mountain of scarred plates. The krogan looked positively entertained, eyes tracking the back-and-forth argument like blood sport.

“As of several hours ago, they’re a part of this crew, Ashley.” John’s voice rolled out, firm and strong. “They proved their worth on Eden Prime. They proved themselves on the Citadel. There will be plenty of opportunities for them to do all that again for your satisfaction.”

Hit her again for me. Zedd slouched deeper into his chair, a little chuckle sliding out as he eased back.

“John’s right.” Jane was the next to speak again, affirming her brother’s point as much as she looked like she wanted to choke on it. “They have proven themselves.”

Ashley’s jaw locked.

“Have they?” Ashley pushed off the wall, eyes sliding to Kira as the sentinel stood behind Zedd with bright blue pigtails freshly done up. “Like you…”

Kira stepped forward too, right next to Zedd as he looked up at her. “What about me?”

“You wear the letters.” Ashley jerked a rigid chin at the bright blue ‘N7’ still branded across the right breastplate of Kira’s bodysuit. “But you’re not Alliance. You left. You abandoned your post. And…” Ashley’s head swivelled, looking past Kira as her eyes narrowed. “Where’s the other one?”

Zedd didn’t have to look to know that Ashley was talking about Kai, the stealthy ex-N7 nowhere to be seen per usual. “Probably in the bathroom. He’s got a sensitive tummy.”

“See, he could be skulking around right now in our systems.”

“Ashley…” Kaidan sighed from behind her. “They’ve been onboard for hours. I doubt they’re going to be attempting anything so quickly. Even if they were, I mean…” the older man let out a sigh, “This is the Normandy. The security in this place’s system is top-notch.”

Zedd kept his mouth flat, fighting the laugh that wanted out badly. Sure, it is.

“Okay, fine, but there’s still two rogue N7s on board.” Ashley took another step, closing the distance as she rounded back on Kira standing across the table. “What are we supposed to think? That your loyalty is to this mission, or to him?”

She jerked her head again, this time with the motion aimed squarely at Zedd.

Blue eyes narrowed to slits, the prickle of dark energy instantly biting into the stale air for barely a second before Kira forced a smile onto her face.  “Hey, how about you relax?”

“Don’t tell me to relax.” Ashley’s right hand twitched the same as Kira’s, only she had no flicker of biotic power to make it a threat. “I’m not the one who took the training and swore an oath just to turn traitor the second somebody waved a bigger paycheck in your face.”

“Then how ‘bout you fuck off, then?” Kira tilted her head back, that smile still in place. 

Zedd bit back another laugh at the way Ashley’s face went red, looking away for a second. The gunnery chief refused to lose the momentum, finding a much larger target as she pointed a finger at the last person in the room Zedd expected. “And you.”

Wrex didn’t even blink.

“One of the most infamous krogan in the galaxy on our ship because Victors built him a custom super-weapon. A weapon he never offered to the Alliance.” She aimed the glare right back at the center of the room. “You pretend to be all about humanity but you won’t even help your own unless it’s for credits.”

“Careful, human.” The words ground out from deep within Wrex’s chest, as the battlemaster flashed a row of terrifying teeth. “Wouldn’t speak to my krantt like that. He might ask for a field test of that weapon and I might look your way.”

“Not necessary, Wrex. That’d be messy.” Zedd dropped his boots from the table, blue soles hitting the floor with a thud as he looked back over at the complaining Alllance soldier. “The Alliance wants my tech, sure. I’d be glad to pony up, for real…” Zedd leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin resting on interlocked fingers. “But they don’t want it unless they can control it. They don’t want it unless it’s stripped down and cleaned up and under Citadel oversight and regulations.” 

He’d already had these arguments with Anderson over the course of years, every time under the gentle lie of ‘discussions’. Having to hash it out to someone who didn’t even have the authority or funds to buy one of his personal guns was more of an annoyance than anything else. “Your bosses want twenty-year exclusive contracts locking me out of the Terminus. They want me only in Alliance space and they want to cut the balls off anything they decide too dangerous for a private citizen to run around with.”

He bit back a grunt, more and more annoyance bleeding into his tone the longer he kept going on this exact same stupid point. “And I told them to go fuck themselves. Not to Anderson, though. He’s cool. But the rest of them…” Zedd clicked his tongue against his teeth and allowed himself a shake of the head. “You don’t hand the keys to your house to someone too busy arguing about what a door even is. Wrex, though?” 

He jabbed a thumb toward the Krogan in question. “Wrex reached out to me years ago before the Alliance ever knew my name. He paid up front. Hell, Big Dub paid double as a tip. And didn’t ask for a software backdoor. He’s a good customer.” He let his eyes trace the rigid lines of Ashley’s posture. “You guys are a fucking nightmare.”

“Enough.”

The word cracked the air in half as Jane Shepard pushed off the primary console to stare directly into the center of the scrum. All eyes landed on her, even the silent ones.

“This briefing is not and was never meant to be an audit.” Green eyes froze the Gunnery Chief in pace as her spine snapped ramrod straight. “And I didn’t call it so you could run purity tests either, Williams. He’s already here. Anderson swore his reputation on him. So take your opinions and shove them. Understand?”

“Under-” Ashley swallowed hard, muscles in her throat working. “…Understood, Commander.”

Those green crosshairs turned to lock on Zedd, Jane Shepard doing her best to remain an unblinking Spectre of death at all of 5 ‘6. “And I don’t care what you can do unless you’re doing it right now. There’s a rogue Spectre planning to make humanity suffer and I want him eating shardfire sooner rather than later. If your tech kills geth, I want it firing. If Wrex wants to break things, I want him breaking Saren’s things.”

She leaned forward, both hands planted flat on the table. “If anyone has a problem with that operating logic, the airlock is down the hall and I will personally throw you out of it. Are we clear?”

“Aye, Commander.” Ashley stepped back to where Kaidan stood, voice clipped.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Those green eyes snapped back to him, Zedd raising his arms again.

“Again, I know it sounds like I’m like I’m flirting…” He ducked his head as Kira cuffed him from behind. “But it’s just my voice.”

“If we’re done measuring jurisdictions…” Garrus took the opening to step forward, the Turian tapping commands into his omni-tool. “I’ve been cross-referencing Tali’s Geth data with my old C-Sec files.” The galactic map zoomed in as the Artemis Tau cluster bloomed upward, a swirl of pale blue and stark white light painting the faces of the crew. “As well as some… less official sources from the Shadow Broker. There have been mentions that a Matriarch Benezia is working for Saren.”

“Benezia.” John crossed his arms over his chest, the Commander’s face shifting to match his sister’s frown. “I’ve read about her. Been a bit of a ghost lately, but still one of the most powerful and respected Asair in the galaxy.” He shook his head, looking at the glowing cluster. “Don’t see how we get to her directly without causing a diplomatic incident almost as bad as Turian first contact.”

Blue eyes blinked over at Garrus a second later. “No offense.”

The Turian shrugged. “I really don’t care.”

Zedd’s hand went up, two fingers against the silver frame of his glasses. “Hold up.” He looked around the table, waiting for someone else to point out the obvious problem in the math just laid out. Alright…

Seeing as nobody did, he continued on with the obvious. “Anybody wondering why a thousand-year old biotic powerhouse, practical royalty is involved in this mess… this way, at least?

Garrus nodded slowly. “Expain?”

“She’s a Matriarch. Why in the blue hell would she playing second fiddle to a Turian with a god complex?” Zedd pulled a face, sitting up straight. “Maiden, yeah, why not? You can get one of those on your side with a couple shots of Thessian Blue. Matrons… if the pay is good, sure? But Asari Matriarchs don’t do henchman shit. You don’t live long enough to see empires rise and fall without building an ego the size of Tevos’s ass.” 

Ow. Another cuff to the back of the head from Kira had him clear his throat. “I mean, you don’t amass cult-level followers and then decide to carry the bags for another warhawk with a chip on his shoulder. No offense, Vakarian.”

“None taken.” If anything could ruffle the Turian’s mandibles, it definitely wasn’t some species stereotyping. “And it’s the right question. Turians and Asari don’t typically align this way unless there’s immense leverage, or a shared fanaticism.” A taloned finger aimed out at the galactic map section. “C-Sec’s been blind to her movements for months. But she didn’t disappear completely.”

“Benezia has a daughter.” Tali stepped out of the shadows, airy grain of her suit’s filter vibrating with confidence only hard data could bring. Three-fingered hands flitted across her omnitool,  injecting a new layer of telemetry data injected itself into the hologram with red markers stark against the blue. “An archaeologist named Liara T’Soni, an expert on Prothean technology. Last known location, a dig site in the Artemis Tau cluster. On a mining planet called Therum.”

“A Prothean expert,” John finished the thought as his sister nodded up at him. “Saren went after the Conduit, a Prothean artifact. He’d likely want her expertise to decipher whatever data he managed to pull from the beacon on Eden Prime.”

Jane’s nodding paused as her eyes narrowed at the red blinking dot of Therum. “Or he’d want to silence her. If she knows something about his plans, she’s a liability. Spectres don’t leave loose ends.”

Is that a self-report? Zedd blinked over at her.

“Or you’re all missing the obvious.” A rumble vibrated up from the floor, starting low and building until Wrex let out a chest-deep laugh from his corner. “Smartest thing is to use the daughter to control the mother.”

The room went dead silent.

“Basic leverage.” Wrex shrugged a pair of massive armored shoulders, the giant turtle-alien entirely unaffected by the stares. “You want a thousand-year-old biotic to put her blue ego in check? You put a gun to her kid’s head. Or a bomb on the base of her spine. Your choice.”

 “Wow.” Zedd turned his head, blinking slowly behind the blue lenses. “Wrex, bro, that is dark. I like it, but… are you speaking from experience?”

Wrex snorted, a plume of hot air venting from his nostrils. “I don’t need threats, whelp. I am one.”

Zedd tilted his head. Well, true.

John stepped forward again, a grunt from the tall man steering the runaway train back onto the tracks. “Regardless of the motive. If Saren gets to her first, we lose our only link to Benezia. And by extension, our only lead on Saren and the Conduit.”

Zedd leaned further back, eyes on the glowing red dot.

“So Therum it is.”