As someone who stole things for a living, Kasumi understood oh-so-very-well the difference between 'objective' and 'sentimental' value. She carried nothing of the former and quite a few things of the latter. Even though she traveled relatively light, her luggage was still extensive enough to require more than one person to carry it.

Fortunately, there were porters available right next to the dock where she'd first set foot on the Citadel. This particular hallway was cleaner than most other docks she'd been in; the Council must have thrown around the extra credits to make sure that anyone arriving at the seat of galactic power was suitably impressed.

Right now, it seemed only two porters were available. One was a tall turian female with a red, skull-like tribal tattoo. The other was an asari who was unusually short for one of their species; she was only a little taller than Kasumi.

The turian spoke first. "Can we help you, Miss...?"

"Garfield," said Kasumi. "I have some things which need to be transported. I'll probably need both of you, actually."

"Fine by me," said the asari with a smile. "That way I don't have to thumb-wrestle my over-sized colleague here to get your business."

The tall turian snorted and rolled her eyes, then smiled at Kasumi. "Lead on, please."

They traipsed back up the hallway. There was a storage facility nearby, a dingy little place which rented by the day. Kasumi tapped in a code next to her assigned bay and the door obligingly dilated open. There were seven smaller cases as well as one large flat crate.

"That's a lot of stuff," said the asari.

"Oh, I'm carrying some of it too," said Kasumi. "We need to get this to docking bay Twelve-B."

In spite of her smaller frame, the blue-skinned alien proved to be just as strong as her turian counterpart. As the three of them trouped out of the facility, Kasumi thought she caught a glimpse of the wounded turian who had been with Shepard earlier. She shrugged internally. It couldn't hurt to have them watching her back, she supposed.

As they made their way to the Normandy's dock, Kasumi tried to reconcile what she'd known previously about Shepard with the man she'd just spoken to. This 'reborn' Shepard definitely looked like he'd been through the wringer. His face was now crisscrossed with a series of scars, some of which appeared to be glowing. But his bearing had been upright and he'd carried himself without the faintest trace of a limp or other pains.

Much of Kasumi's concerns had been mollified with that meeting. But she still had lingering doubts about their mutual employer, and it sounded like Shepard did as well. That oddly made her feel better.

"Miss Garfield?" The turian porter's voice cut into her musing. Kasumi looked up and realized they were the only ones in this particular corridor. She cursed herself for not paying attention to her surroundings.

Kasumi made ready to activate her cloak and turned. "Yes?"

Something of her suspicion must have been evident, because the turian had set down her load and was now holding up her hands. "We're not hostile, Ms. Goto. As a matter of fact, you've already met a few of our people back on Illium."

Kasumi glanced at the smaller asari and saw that she was still holding two of Kasumi's cases and had a neutral expression on her face, as if she was watching a tennis match.

"What do you want?" Kasumi set her own cases down and managed to make it look casual.

"The same thing you do," said a familiar voice from behind her. She turned and saw the brown-haired, slightly dumpy man that she'd met on Illium. He had his hands clasped behind his back, but it didn't look like he was holding any surprises back there. It was just part of his professorial manner. "Namely, Keiji's graybox. But we'd prefer that Cerberus doesn't get their hands on it."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not working for Cerberus."

"We know," said the smaller asari. "That's why we're hoping to appeal to your sense of reason."

"You mean, come with you instead of with Shepard?" she said aloud.

The dumpy man nodded.

Kasumi thought about just triggering her cloak and escaping. But that would mean losing the painting, one of the few things she had left to remember Keiji by. She'd also read through the files on the Collector attacks that Cerberus had given her. While she knew that life in the Terminus could be harsh, she was still stunned by the fact that whole human colonies were vanishing and nobody seemed to care.

"Perhaps I can reason with you in return," said Kasumi. "This isn't just about the graybox."

The man opened his mouth, but before he could speak a calm, deep, and reverberating voice cut through the hallway.

"Friends, it doesn't seem like the lady wants to go with you."

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Nathan glanced down the hall past Camicia and Persephone and saw the bandaged turian who had accompanied Shepard (or rather the person calling himself Shepard) leaning casually against the wall. He was impressed with the turian's stealth, and even more impressed with the rifle that the turian had somehow gotten through Citadel security. That rifle was not quite pointing at anyone in the hallway...not yet.

The analyst was pretty sure of the identity of this newcomer...if the person they'd seen earlier was indeed John Shepard. "Garrus Vakarian, I presume?" he said pleasantly.

The turian didn't say anything, but he did give a slight nod.

"We mean no harm to Ms. Goto, I assure you," continued Nathan.

He just barely managed to avoid jumping out of his skin when another voice sounded from behind him. "I know. That's the only reason you three are still breathing."

Nathan cleared his throat carefully. "Would you mind if I, er, turn around?"

The new voice sounded amused. "Go ahead."

Keeping his hands clasped behind him, Nathan slowly pivoted to face the scarred man. From this close, he had to admit that this person sure did look like Shepard. He also had to admit the person had a really big pistol pointed right at his midsection. Nathan could only hope that those who had resurrected the Spectre hadn't been tampering with the man's mind. If Shepard was mindlessly dedicated to the Cerberus cause, this whole thing was going to get bloody pretty quickly. Starting with his own blood.

Well, there one way to find out.

"I have to admit, you do look like him," said Nathan.

Shepard's scarred face darkened. "I am him."

"You will forgive us for being at least a little skeptical."

"Right now I give less than two shits about what you find hard to believe. Kasumi, do you know these people?"

"Sort of," replied the thief. "I met the man on Illium. He was offering the help of the Organization. For the same little retrieval job I mentioned earlier."

"What organization?" asked Shepard.

Nathan could almost hear Kasumi roll her eyes. "The Organization. Oh, right. I forgot you don't travel in those circles."

"I assure you, sir, that no matter what Cerberus might have told you about us I think our needs are aligned..." began Nathan, and then his view spun as he felt himself shoved violently against the wall. Shepard's hand was on his neck, and Nathan could feel the casual yet incredible strength in that grip. Shepard had his pistol pointed back down the hall away from the group. There was a ninety-degree bend in the corridor about ten meters away.

"Eyes sharp, Garrus," snapped Shepard. "Something is off." He pointed his pistol at the corner.

----------------------------------------

Shepard was about ten seconds from simply clubbing these three assholes in their respective heads, grabbing Kasumi's stuff, and booking it back to the Normandy. Something was really fucky here. He had heard the capital letter in Kasumi's voice when she'd mentioned this mysterious 'Organization'. It sounded more dramatic than the usual mob bullshit.

He flicked his eyes back towards Garrus for a brief moment, and by the time he looked back at the corner someone was there. A man with a short black beard, wearing a black suit. He held a smaller pistol and had it casually pointed at Shepard's head. Which made them even, since Shepard had his gun already pointed at the newcomer.

John Shepard had known many very dangerous people. Hell, he himself was a very dangerous person. And from the way the black-clad man had appeared out of nowhere, Shepard knew that this newcomer had just made his top ten list.

The pot-bellied man he had pinned against the wall cleared his throat. He sounded calm in spite of the large hand clamped around his neck. "John Shepard, may I introduce Edward Hadlock."

The man in the black suit smiled. "I think we can dispense with the fake ID, Nathan. My name's John Wick."

"Got somebody else here, John," Garrus called from behind Shepard. "She's also got a gun."

"She's with me," said the man calling himself Wick. "Put your gun away, Bast."

"You sure?" said a new feminine voice.

Wick nodded.

"She's not pointing a gun at me anymore," said Garrus in an even tone. "Lady, where the spirits did you come from?"

"Bast tends to do that," said the female turian.

Shepard took a deep breath. He was still getting the hang of the cybernetic reconstruction which had been done on him, and his 'accelerating' ability wasn't easy to call on. But he made ready as best as he could while he said his next statement. "You have five seconds to explain to me why I shouldn't crush this man's neck and then kill the rest of you."

Wick raised one eyebrow, as if the thought was mildly amusing. "Nathan?"

Nathan blinked, then started talking as best he could with his face half-smashed into a nearby wall. "Your team and ours want the same thing. It's vital to Alliance interests to get that graybox secured. We have a better chance of success if we pool our talents rather than waste them working against each other." The man took a breath. "And we're even willing to overlook your affiliation with Cerberus. Believe me when I say that is generous on our part." There was now a grim set to Nathan's features.

Shepard could feel his own face become equally stormy. "Let's get one thing clear, you fuckos. I am not with Cerberus. I am using their resources at the moment, that is all."

Wick glanced at Nathan, who nodded. The black-suited man relaxed, and the gun in his hand was suddenly gone. "Okay."

"Just like that?" asked Shepard.

Wick nodded. "Nathan vouches for you. That's good enough for me."

Shepard figured they'd been hanging around this hallway pointing guns for long enough. "Fine. I'll show you some courtesy as well. Your people will drop off Ms. Goto's things at the Normandy. You and this guy," he nodded towards Nathan, "will come aboard and plead your case. Your other people will disperse, get lost, and stay lost. If we see the merest hint of them around my ship, if anything at all suspicious happens, I'll kill you both with my bare hands. Clear?"

"That sounds reasonable," said Wick. He sounded like Shepard was discussing what to have for dinner.

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John Wick stood causally in what Shepard had named the 'CIC' of the SR-2 Normandy. He had to admit that Cerberus had spared no expense in making this ship feel like a luxury yacht rather than a warship. The bandaged turian, Garrus, stood guard next to him while Nathan was watched over by a hulking man in yellow armor named Zaeed. Kasumi stood apart from them, looking somewhat freaked out by the whole development. John felt a little sorry for the thief; she'd somehow found herself right in the middle of two factions competing for her.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Shepard turned away from his conversation with a petite redhead who stood by one side of the holographic display which dominated the CIC. "Right. Kasumi, what exactly do you need and where is it right now?"

The thief cleared her throat. "It's the graybox of Keiji Okuda, he was a...very good friend of mine. Right now his graybox is being held in the compound of Donovan Hock."

"Hock has the graybox?" Nathan's face looked like he'd bitten into something sour.

"You know him?" asked Shepard.

Nathan nodded. "I'm an...well, I was an analyst for Alliance Intelligence. Hock is a weapons dealer and smuggler who will deal with anyone. Especially with the Batarians, which is why the Alliance keeps tabs on him."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were with this bullshit 'Organization'."

"That would be me, actually," said John.

"And it's not bullshit," added Kasumi. "They're almost as powerful as Cerberus, only not as...open about it." She frowned under her hood. "Although my understanding was that they never dabble in political matters. Why would they be working for the Alliance on this?"

"Because we've...sorry, they've been hired by an individual," replied Nathan. "Admiral Steven Hackett is paying for this directly." He watched Shepard closely while he said the name.

Shepard blinked in surprise. "You're working for Hackett? Shit, you should have said that at the start. It would have involved a lot less pointing our guns at each other."

"No offense, but we weren't yet sure of your true loyalties," said John.

Shepard shrugged. "I guess I can see your point. Maybe I've got some kind of control chip shoved up my ass...right, Miranda?"

John Wick turned and saw a woman walk out of the elevator into the CIC. She had blue eyes like Shepard, only hers were icy and flat like chips of glass. Her pale skin matched the black-and-white catsuit which she was wearing. The catsuit had an orange-and-black hexagonal logo on one shoulder that Wick knew all too well.

"As I told you, Shepard," she said in a voice that matched the ice in her eyes, "We have done nothing of the sort. In spite of my recommendations." Her flat eyes took in both John and Nathan, and her lips curled in a slight sneer. "What are they doing here?"

"Helping, maybe," replied Shepard.

Miranda's face grew fierce as she pointed at John Wick. "That man is currently the subject of an all-hands bulletin throughout the Cerberus network. He's a suspected member of the Organization. And you have him waltzing on board like..."

"Hold it right there." Shepard's tone was mild, but John felt the bulldozer force behind that voice. "It sounds like you know all about these people."

"I know some," spat Miranda. She shot a look of pure hate at John Wick, who just smiled his Number Nine smile back. That was his try me, you stupid fucker smile.

Miranda somehow picked up on that smile's intended content. "They're information brokers and assassins for hire," she continued. "They tend to the theatrical."

"You don't say," said Shepard in mock surprise. "Tell me, do they do anything as theatrical as raising a man from the dead while resurrecting a destroyed ship?"

Miranda managed a small, ironic smile. "You have a point. But we can't have these people on board."

"You won't need to," replied Nathan. "We've got our own ship."

The Cerberus officer still looked unhappy.

Shepard spoke, and he had a soothing tone to his voice like he was trying to calm down a skittish horse. "Miranda, I know you're torn. You were told to follow my orders. But I also know you make regular reports to The Illusive Man. I'm fine with that. All I ask is that you hold off on reporting this until after we get Ms. Goto's 'little task' completed."

She finally nodded.

Shepard gave a wider smile. "Good. Now, as to accommodations for our new crewmember. Unfortunately we have no spare cabins but we do have an observation lounge that I think can be re-purposed for you. Ms. Chambers can show you there."

Kasumi tilted her hooded head. "Mmm, if you don't mind I'll choose Mr. Vakarian here as my escort." She walked over and placed a hand on the turian's arm.

Garrus gave Shepard a look of panicked surprise.

But the Spectre just kept smiling. "Sure thing. Have fun, Garrus."

The turian straightened up as if he'd just been given a life-or-death mission. "All right, Ms. Goto, let's get your things squared away." He walked towards the elevator with Kasumi on his arm.

"Call me Kasumi, please..."

The elevator doors hissed closed as Shepard turned back to John Wick. "We need an all-hands meeting to plan this operation out. But not here on the Citadel, there are too many parties listening in. Do you have spacesuits?"

John nodded, and Shepard continued. "Good. There's a dwarf planetoid near this system's mass relay. It's called Falayta's Folly, for some damn-fool reason. Let's rendezvous there and figure out this whole mess."

"Not to be all suspicious or anything, but how do we know you'll be there?" asked John. "You've got Kasumi, after all."

Shepard didn't look angry, just mildly annoyed. "Well, for a start I'd rather not piss off Hackett. But as a show of good faith..." He turned to the redhead nearby. "Ms. Chambers, would you be willing to be on their ship for a few hours?"

The petite woman grinned. "So now I'm adding 'hostage' to my job description?"

"Nothing so unseemly," said Nathan. "Let's call it a chance to get to know our crew."

----------------------------------------

Kelly Chambers knew that her job of 'yeoman plus counselor' meant that she would have quite a few odd experiences while working for Shepard. But she had never expected to be sitting in a renovated turian corvette while a varren (who had apparently fallen in love/lust with her) held its huge head in her lap.

"So, ah, how did you get ahold of this fine specimen?" she asked the ship's engineer. She carefully stroked the varren's head, trying to avoid the spines. It closed its purple eyes and made some little happy noises that sounded like 'wirfls'.

"John's the one who found Errol," said Gabby. "The poor little guy was gonna be thrown into a pit to fight other varren, or cut up for meat."

Kelly managed to keep from snatching her hand away from Errol's head. "So he's not...domesticated?"

Gabby shrugged. "Not really. I mean, it turns out that varren have a very strong pack instinct. Errol sees us all as his pack, and since we're cool with you he's decided that you're also in the pack."

"How lucky for me," replied Kelly. But she did pet his head a little more vigorously, which Errol seemed to appreciate. "Sorry, I didn't get your last name, Gabby."

"Daniels."

Kelly's eyes widened. "Oh. Is your first name Gabriella?"

The engineer looked a little suspicious. "Yeah...why?" Then both she and Errol flinched back a little at Kelly's sudden laughter.

"It's amazing how you can run into people you know. I'm pretty sure our Chief Engineer is old friend of yours."

----------------------------------------

Falayta's Folly had a low enough gravitational field for the Normandy to make a direct landing on its surface. Camicia brought the Helen in low over the frigate and gave them all a good look at it while she set the corvette down nearby. Gabby was surprised at the emotional kick she felt while looking at the familiar and very famous delta-winged shape.

"She sure is a pretty ship," said Mackie, echoing her own musings.

The turian pilot snorted. "She's a lot bigger than the original Normandy. Especially in the ass. Now, the original? That was a beautiful ship."

"So you're not an ass person then, Cammy?" asked Persephone with a smile.

"Bite me. And I mean that in the human sense, not the turian sense. Ya smart aleck."

They all put on their spacesuits and trouped over to the Normandy. John had figured that by this point they had to trust Shepard to not pull anything. It was either that, or give up and go home. After the hangar pressurized, Shepard entered the space accompanied by Kasumi and Garrus.

As the crew of the Helen stripped off their suits, Gabby worked up the courage to approach the famous Spectre. "Um, Commander? Kelly mentioned that you have a Chief Engineer that I might know..."

Shepard smiled warmly, and she instantly felt at ease. "You must be Gabby. I know he'll be glad to see you." He raised his head. "EDI, can you ask Chief Engineer Donnelly to stop by the hangar?"

A synthetic but very soothing female voice sounded through the hangar. "Of course, Shepard. And welcome aboard, Ms. Daniels. Logging out."

Gabby had a sudden suspicous thought. A Virtual Intelligence wouldn't be so forward as to welcome someone aboard. VIs were powerful, but lacked initiative. This 'EDI' character was something more than a standard ship VI.

Her musings were cut short by a familiar accented voice. "Ach, what is it now, Shepard? I'm still gettin' the tunings right on our wee bairn...GABBY!"

She spun and saw a big bear of a man dressed in blue overalls. His red hair stuck out at odd angles, and his nose bore signs of being repeatedly broken. The man's eyes had an odd squint to them, which Gabby knew was due to scar tissue from quite a few blows to the face.

"MARCUS!" she yelled, just before he grabbed her up in a fierce hug.

Their happy little moment was interrupted by a small scream from Kasumi. The thief had just caught sight of Mackie's face as he took off his helmet.

----------------------------------------

Shepard glowered at Miranda. "Well?"

She leaned back in her office chair and raised her hands. "I don't have a good answer for it, Shepard. It wasn't my operation. I've...expressed my reservations about Kai Leng to the Illusive Man before."

The Spectre crossed his arms. "Reservations?"

Miranda leaned forward. "Fine. I find Leng to be a fucking embarrassment. He's nothing more than a sadistic punk, and Cerberus doesn't need him. Our organization needs to become...better. That's the reason I threw myself into both your resurrection and this mission without hesitation. This is our chance to rehabilitate Cerberus' image in the galaxy at large."

He leaned back against the doorway to her office and stared off into space. "I've offered to have Dr. Chakwas take a look at him. See if she can do anything for the scarring."

"That's good. In spite of my personal misgivings, I've done some research on the Hock compound, and it's a fortress. I think we'll need these peoples' help."

"I'm glad they meet with your approval," said Shepard in a flat tone. He turned to look at her like she was mounted under a microscope. "I've had to clean up your peoples' messes before, during the chase after Saren. I told your boss that Cerberus is already on thin ice with me. But you're the only ones doing jack shit about the Collectors, so here I am. However, that only goes so far. If I keep running into shit like this, we are going to have to...reevaluate our relationship. Is that clear?"

Miranda nodded.

----------------------------------------

Mackie had never had a mother...at least, he'd never been raised by one. This silver-haired woman with the slight British accent somehow filled the image in his mind of 'mother'. It put him at ease, or at least as much ease as he could be while sitting inside a frigate with the Cerberus logo plastered on the outside. After all, his current face was courtesy of a Cerberus operative.

"Look up, please...thank you," said Dr. Chakwas. He felt her fingers touch along his jaw and throat as she kept talking. "Well, there's no sign of infection. And given that you don't have a doctor on staff, they did a decent job in patching you up."

"Right now, I'm glad to be breathing," he replied.

Dr. Chakwas smiled. "That's the spirit." She patted his hand and moved away from the examination table. "I can definitely fix the nose, and take care of the more severe scarring. But keep in mind I'm a military doctor, not a plastic surgeon. If you want to get more thorough reconstruction you'll need to visit a specialist."

Mackie shrugged. "Even fixing my nose is a big help. At least I'll be able to breathe right again." He looked curiously at her. "If you don't mind my asking, what's your story? How did somebody like you wind up working for...these people?"

She sounded amused. "You mean Cerberus? The answer is easy. The Commander and I go way back. We worked together during his initial mission as a Spectre. I jumped at the chance to be on his crew again."

"So it really is Shepard?" asked Mackie. "He's not some kind of a clone or other nefarious shit like that?"

She smiled. "It's him. I understand your concern, but at least in this case Cerberus actually did something right."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess..." Mackie was interrupted by a pleasant tenor voice which sounded from outside the medbay.

"When a felon's not engaged in his employment (his employment) or maturing his felonious little plans (little plans) his capacity for innocent enjoyment ('cent enjoyment) is just as great as any honest man's (honest man's)."

That pleasant voice was attached to a short, cheerful-looking salarian who came bounding into the medbay. Mackie was not encouraged by the brief look of exasperation which crossed Dr. Chakwas' face.

"Dr. Mordin," she said, "I don't think there's any need for your particular expertise on this case."

"Most likely, but never hurts to be sure!" said Mordin in a sunny tone. Mackie suddenly found himself very, very close to the salarian doctor's huge eyes as the alien gave him a once-over. "Hmm. Yes, scar tissue main issue of concern. Trust you will do your usual excellent job, yes?" He drew in a huge sniff through his nose. "But perhaps patient would like to seize opportunity?"

"Opportunity?" squeaked Mackie.

"Going under knife, so to speak. Have several ideas for improving human body. More efficient digestive system, keener eyesight, improved reflexes." Sniff. "Perhaps some claws?"

Mackie thought that if he started running now he could make it back down to the hangar and out of this madhouse. Or at least he could hide behind John Wick.

Chakwas gently shooed the salarian away from her patient. "I think we're just going to handle the damage, Dr. Mordin. No need to go...improving things right now." She held a syringe in her other hand, but didn't uncap it until the salarian had left with a cheerful wave.

"Um...that was a doctor?" asked Mackie.

"Oh, yes. Brilliant and driven. He cured an entire plague outbreak on Omega nearly single-handedly. But he gets, ah, fixated sometimes." She indicated her syringe. "Don't worry, this is a simple anaesthetic. But if you've got cold feet about the whole thing, I understand completely."

The young man took a deep breath. "Nah. I trust you, doc. But if I wake up with spines or an extra arm you and I are gonna have words."

The doctor laughed. "I'm sure. Now, hold still...wonderful. We'll let that work for a bit and then get started."

----------------------------------------

Gabby stared in wonder at the Normandy's oversized drive core. "This is insane! How the hell did they fit all of this in here?" The two engineers were in a little alcove off of Main Engineering. The alcove was situated almost directly under the pulsing blue glow of the ship's heart.

Donnelly grinned. "I know, it's a wee bit overwhelming. But it's a copy of the original Tantalus core on the first Normandy. It gives our bonny lass quite a bit more speed and agility than you'd expect." He patted the railing fondly, then turned to Gabby with a raised eyebrow. "And you? How did you go from the Alliance to workin' on a turian corvette with such a motley crew?"

She gave an embarrassed shrug. "I guess I can answer that with one word. Hackett."

Donnelly frowned, and she held up a hand.

"Hey big guy, I volunteered, okay? I wasn't exactly getting anywhere inside the Alliance anyway."

He subsided. "All right. As long as you weren't pressured intae anything."

Gabby smiled. "To be honest, it's been pretty smooth sailing so far. Well, I did have to hack an asari ship on the fly while somebody was stalking me. And we did have some people break into our ship and threaten to rape me BUT..." she held up an admonishing finger as Donnelly drew in breath to speak, "I was perfectly safe. Errol was watching out for me."

"Who's Errol?"

"He's our, um, mascot I guess. He's a varren that John picked up on Korlus."

"You have a varren as a pet?" Donnelly looked a bit ashen-faced at the idea.

"He's perfectly safe. I think he's kind of adopted me, actually. He sleeps in Engineering now."

Donnelly laughed. "So you have a wild animal next to yer drive core, eh? Well, I guess we have more in common than I thought."

Before Gabby could ask what he was talking about, a low-pitched feminine voice sounded from behind them. "Hey Assface, didja get yourself another minion? She's cute. Maybe you'll actually get laid for once."

Gabby turned back towards Engineering and saw a slender, petite woman who wore pants and almost nothing else. Her shaved head gleamed in the light of the drive core, and the skin of her upper body was covered with a welter of tattoos. The young woman leaned casually against the entryway to the alcove and looked at them both with amused contempt.

She half expected Donnelly to give the newcomer a tirade of Scottish verbal abuse. But instead he responded mildly. "Hello, Jack. This is Gabby, an old friend of mine. Sorry if we woke ye."

Jack shook her head. "Nah, I was just gettin' a little stir-crazy down there and I heard ya yammerin' up here. Plus everybody's runnin' around what with the new people on board. Anyway, I'm gonna go eat. Standard painful death threats apply if either of you assholes touch my shit." She flipped them both the bird and stalked off.

"Who...what..." Gabby sputtered words trailed into silence.

Donnelly smiled. "That's Jack. She decided to set up her quarters right under Engineering."

"And you let her?"

The red-haired engineer laughed. "She's a biotic, and she can take apart a thousand-pound mech with her bare fookin' hands. So yeah, I let her."