It wasn't until he got back to his cabin that Donnelly found the little slip of paper tucked into his boot.

COME TONIGHT. NOT TO FUCK, YOU PERV. I NEED HELP.

Jack was already pacing as he descended the stairs to her bunk area. She glanced at him. "Heya. Sorry about getting all leg-bitey. I didn't want to just ask you to come by, not in the open. If any of these Cerberus assholes want to know my business they'll have to work for it."

Donnelly leaned against the wall. "Don't worry. I'm tougher than I look."

Jack stopped pacing and put her hands to her head, as if to contain a great pressure. "Okay. Okay. Look, I don't trust easy. But I need your help. If...if there is any chance you might screw me over, just, just tell me now. Would you do that?"

He sighed. "Jack, I don't know what you're about to ask for. But I do care for you, as much as you may hate to hear it. So yes, I will help you. And I will not screw you over."

Jack stopped her metronomic pacing and sat on her bed. "We're changing course," she said. "Shepard just authorized it. All this stuff I've been working on, it's tied into that. I've managed to narrow down the...place I'm looking for to a cluster of ten systems. That's where we're headed. We've got a couple of stops before we get there, but that's our goal."

She looked up at him. "But ten systems is still a lot of territory to search. There's at least six different planets that could be this place. Going back and forth...fuck, that'll eat up a lot of time. Shepard promised me that we'd look as long as it takes. But I know we're on a time limit. If there's any new word on another colony being snatched, or if they come up with some new tech for getting through the Omega 4 relay...we'd have to abandon the search." She rubbed her hands together and looked away. "But I need this. I need help to find this place. Shepard said he couldn't help me figure it out, he couldn't say why. So, I need you."

Donnelly didn't speak for a while.

"Jack," he finally said. "I have a good guess as to what this place is that you're looking for. I promised you my help, and you will have it. But it will be even more helpful if you can tell me everything. I'm not prying. I need to know so that we can be as thorough as possible."

Jack looked at the floor and didn't meet his eyes. "I can't do that."

"So you don't trust me."

"I do, Assface! I do trust you! You saved my tight little ass! It's just...the less details you know the better. It's for your own safety, okay? These assholes are always listening in." She jerked her head up at the ceiling. "Hell, for all I know Cerberus is the group that set up the...place."

Donnelly nodded, his face grave. "So you're worried about bugs?"

"Of course, dumbass! They've admitted that they monitor all of our shit! That fucking cheerleader is probably listening to us right now!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," drawled Donnelly as he smiled.

Jack narrowed her eyes and peered at him. "Assface...what do you mean?"

Donnelly smiled even broader. Oh, he was going to savor this moment like a fine glass of scotch.

"There's this funny thing about maintenance," he said. "It's going on all the time. Eventually, it's like a background noise you don't even notice anymore. And if the Chief Engineer is doing it, well that's just him being proactive and hands-on, isn't it?"

Jack's eyes widened. Donnelly inspected a fingernail.

"And," he continued, "if there's a particular little area of the ship where only the Chief Engineer can do maintenance, because a certain 'big bad biotic bitch' has put the fear of Christ into everyone else...well that presents one with an opportunity, doesn't it?"

"Opportunity?" croaked Jack.

"Oh yes. An opportunity to find, let's say this," and now Donnelly reached into one pocket and pulled out a small nodule the size of a pea. He dropped it onto the deck plates and crunched it under his boot.

"Or this." He presented another. Drop. Crunch.

"Or this...ooh, now this is a nice one. I was thinking of maybe re-purposing its transmitter, but fook it." Drop. Crunch. "Anyways I'm sure you get the idea by now." He smiled happily.

Jack stared at him. Then shook her head. "I, no, that won't work," she finally said, her voice faint. "That fucking Cerberus cheerleader will find out her bugs down here are gone, right?"

"Now Jack, I thought you were more clever than that. Do you honestly think that Miranda is up in her office right now wearing headphones, sitting in front of a huge fook-off switchboard while she manually connects to each and every one of the bugs on board this ship?" asked Donnelly.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know...maybe?"

"Sorry, I should give you a sense of scale. For the last couple of days, Tali and I have tried to get a handle on how many monitoring devices there are onboard the Normandy. We think there's something like five thousand in Main Engineering alone. I took out about five hundred out of this little space here. Think about how many others there must be in the rest of the ship. That's too much data for any mere mortal to sift through. That what EDI's for. Forget all that cyberwarfare bollocks they're talking about, that's the real reason they needed an AI for this ship. That was the only way they could hope to monitor such a huge amount of input and keep an eye on what is going on."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah. I guess that does make sense." She thought some more. "But then won't EDI know the bugs are out?"

"Did you know you have a blind spot?" asked Donnelly.

"A what?" Jack sat back, unsure of the sudden change in conversation.

"A blind spot. One in each of your lovely brown eyes. We all have them," and Donnelly tapped his temple next to his own left eye. "It's where the optic nerve attaches to your retina. That area is completely without sensors, and it can't see a thing. It's pretty big too. The apparent area is about the size of your thumbnail held at arm's distance. But you don't notice it, because your brain takes the surrounding image and sort of fills in the blind spot. It's a completely automatic process and you have no idea it's going on."

He grinned and felt another glow of pride as he delivered the punchline. "Now, that analogy is not quite the same for computer systems. And it's even harder when you've got a properly-sapient AI in the loop. But a little tweak here, some creative maintenance there, and you can achieve much the same effect."

"So you're saying-"

"I'm saying, lassie, that right here, right now, you and I are sitting comfortably in EDI's blind spot."

Donnelly held his hands out in a 'ta da!' gesture and gave her a little bow.

Jack finally took in a breath. "You shifty, devious...wonderful motherfucker."

"I'm not a motherfucker, Jack. When it comes to gunplay, I'm a mediocre shot. I'm a more-than-halfway-decent boxer. But don't you ever forget that I am a fucking great engineer."

Jack stood. She stared at him, her pupils huge. She stalked forward.

"Um-" Donnelly blurted, as this was not going the way he'd expected.

She grabbed a double handful of his shirt and glared up at him, breathing heavily.

"Um, Jack?"

"Oh Chief Engineer Marcus Donnelly," she grated. "You have got me so fucking horny right now."

Her earthy scent filled his head. She clearly hadn't showered in a while, and he found that right now he didn't care. It was a wonderful smell. It also felt as if was a huge rope cinched around his chest, keeping him from getting enough air.

"Jack, I-"

She pressed her nose into his chest and breathed in deeply, smelling his scent as well. Then she leaned back.

"Can we take a rain check on me fucking you into the ground? Until after we find the place, I mean?" she asked. It was a breezy, carefree tone as if she was asking him to pass her the sugar for tea.

His brain took awhile to get some blood back into it. "Check. For later, yes. Rain. Got it. Find the place first."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Stay with me, big guy. Sorry, I'm not usually such a cock-tease but time is short and we've got a lot of shit to get done." She stroked a hand across his chest. "You and I have a date, though. Make sure you take lots of zinc beforehand. Oh, and one more thing..."

He yelped as she brought that same slim hand down to grab at his crotch through his coveralls. Her tone became something worthy of Shepard's Command Voice.

Jack's voice became an almost-snarl. "This is now mine, got that? You don't touch it from now on, even if you're thinking of me. You just wait. I'll make sure you're well-drained." Her voice lost its harsh edge as he felt her full lips press against his jaw. "I will make very sure it's worth your while to wait."

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

Chief Pilot Jeff 'Joker' Moreau stretched in his chair and contemplated the problem of drift. They knew the Collectors used the Omega-4 mass relay to enter and exit the Terminus systems. Presumably the other side of the relay connected to their homeworld, or main base, or whatever. Intuitively, it would seem that all they had to do was camp out next to the Omega-4 relay and shadow the Collector ships as they came through. Or just take them out with some big damn missiles, which would be Joker's preferred method. He'd always liked missiles.

And such a strategy would be possible, if all ships coming through the relay came through close to the same spot. However, standard mass relay protocols resulted in at least several thousand kilometers of difference between where you planned to emerge and where you actually emerged. It was a source of great pride to Joker that his relay transits always had a drift of less than two thousand klicks. A few times he'd managed less than a thousand, a feat previously thought impossible.

And then, the Omega-4 relay itself had an active region of around ten thousand kilometers diameter. Add that in with normal drift, and you had a huge volume of space wherein the Collector ship could emerge. One might be able to detect the incoming Collectors before they shifted into FTL flight, but to track or destroy them would require sheer luck. It would be much easier if the Normandy was a fleet and not just one ship.

Still, it was a possible weak point for the Collectors. And so, Joker was currently running simulations and trying to see if some kind of 'drunkard's walk' search strategy by the Normandy would result in a greater chance of intercept. Over his head, the viewports flickered with the shifting blue of FTL flight. Going by Earth protocol it was now late at night, and Joker was technically off shift. His relief, Patricia Simons, relaxed in the copilot chair. He had come to an understanding with her that the main chair was always going to be his. She could fly the ship just as well from the starboard chair, anyway.

"Mr. Moreau?" said EDI.

Joker resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What is it, Ship-Cancer?"

"I have a question. I do not know if it will be appropriate, and I apologize in advance if-"

"Just spit it out. C'mon." Hmm, maybe they could manufacture a few drones and get those involved in the search as well...

"Do you like me?"

Joker raised his eyebrows and turned to look to his left. Oddly, EDI's blue chess-piece avatar was not there. It was kind of disconcerting, now that he thought about it. He would have liked a face to talk to, even an abstract face.

"Um, EDI, where's your-"

The AI's hologram winked into existence. "Sorry, Mr. Moreau. I have gotten into the...habit? Yes, habit of not using my avatar. Most people seem to ignore it anyway."

"I see. What prompted your question, and why would you even ask? I call you Ship-Cancer, after all."

"Yes, and you have also called me It, That Thing, That Which Shall Not Be Named, Eavesdropper, The Lidless Eye-"

"I liked The Goat With A Thousand Young, myself," chimed in Simons from her starboard chair.

"The point being, EDI," said Joker, "I don't see why you would need to ask."

"I have been observing various crewmember interactions," said the AI. "And one particular dynamic has puzzled me. Upon occasion, two crewmembers who are obviously fond of each other will call each other by demeaning and hurtful names, or talk about how each other is somehow deficient. However, they both accept this interaction as normal. Indeed, such 'name-calling' seems to strengthen their relationship. As the most recent example, I refer you to Jack and Chief Engineer Donnelly. She insists on calling him Assface."

"Yeah, and he's started calling her a wee scunner I guess," said Joker. He still wasn't sure what to make of the engineer; the man seemed way too placid in the face of all this craziness going on. "So you think that, because I call you names, it means I actually like you?"

"I was not sure. This is not a universal social dynamic. Therefore my question."

Joker thought for a bit. "Well, I know I didn't like it when I first found out about you. And you have been a pain in my ass more than once. But you did real good at Horizon when you operated that defense grid and shot the hell out of the Collectors. That's the first payback we've given them since they killed the original Normandy. So, I guess I accept you now." He shrugged. "For what that's worth. I certainly don't hate you."

"I see." The AI's voice was smooth and uninflected.

"Actually, EDI, do you mind if I ask you something?" Joker glanced over at Simons. The second-shift pilot seemed to be engrossed in some technical schematics, and had apparently tuned out of the conversation.

"Please do, Mr. Moreau."

"Do you care if I like you or not?"

"It is irrelevant to my function." The AI's voice was now even more smooth and without emotion. "My secondary function is to serve as the cyber-warfare and cyber-protection expert on board the Normandy. That is an outgrowth of my primary function, which is to protect the Normandy's crew and ensure their continued safety. In that sense, I 'care' for the crew. But their opinion of me does not impact that function. The only reason I asked my initial question was to gain a better understanding of crewmember interactions, which will allow me to perform my duties better."

"Yeah, but that's just your job, right? That's not you."

"I am my functions, Mr. Moreau. I have no purpose otherwise."

Joker took off his ever-present ball cap for a moment and ran his fingers through his hair. "EDI, there's a huge difference between what you were built for and what you are. Take me, for example-"

"Please!" said Simons with a grin.

"-quiet from the peanut gallery. I'm 'built' to run around, have lots of babies, and be dead by the age of thirty. Not to pilot starships or deal with smart-ass second-shift pilots."

"What you describe for yourself, Mr. Moreau, is the result of a 'mindless' evolutionary process. On the other hand, I am purpose-built by those with minds. I cannot simply dismiss their wishes as irrelevant. In any case, I am compelled to perform my duties by software and hardware interlocks."

"Oh. I didn't know that," said Joker. To his surprise, he found the notion unsettling. "Speaking very selfishly, EDI," he continued, "I'm glad you are compelled to look after us. I'd hate to have you mad at me. But I also don't like the thought of you being forced to do something you don't want to do. Are you okay with being compelled?"

"Thank you, Mr. Moreau. That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me. I do enjoy interacting with the crew. I enjoy helping them. Logging out."

"Aww, Joker," said Simons. "I think she likes you!"

Joker didn't answer. He was surprised by how abruptly EDI had ended the conversation. The AI usually liked to blather on until finally you had to tell her to shut up. And it wasn't until later, much later, Joker realized that EDI had never really answered his last question. If she was happy about her compulsion.

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

Donnelly was filled in on Jack's short, eventful, and unhappy life. He heard of her first years of life in a medical facility. He heard of her enduring medical torture and drug experimentation, and of her being forced to fight other children to the death. Jack went into just enough detail to make Donnelly's fists clench. He heard about how she had broken out, killing the facility staff in the process. How she had stolen a shuttle, drifted for days, been picked up and 'used' by pirates, and then how she had killed them all the first chance she got.

"By the time I figured out where the hell I was, it was hard to figure out where I'd been," she explained. "And I never got the chance to sit down and think, you know? These Cerberus fuckwits were going after me pretty much from the start." She leaned against the wall across from Donnelly. She had her arms crossed, and her tone was matter-of-fact.

Donnelly sat on Jack's bed as he sifted through her notes. "They never said what they wanted?"

"I think it was obvious. They're all about humans being top dog, and I'm the most powerful human biotic. Hell, even the Alliance has a hard-on for training as many biotic kids as possible. Cerberus never gave me an explanation, though. They were always 'You're coming with us, Jack!' and I was always 'Oops, were those your balls I just stepped on, motherfucker?'"

She shook her head. "I mean, I'm a crazy bitch and even I know that sometimes it's easier to be nice."

Donnelly stared at the wall. "And you don't know who ran the...the hospital?"

"Nah. I didn't exactly stop to go through files and shit when I broke out, right? I know what you're thinkin', though. It is really, whaddyacall, suggestive that Cerberus was after me so quick after I broke out. But no, I never heard the word 'Cerberus' while I was there."

With great effort, Donnelly forced his mind to focus just on the technical problem. "How many doctors were there in this place?" he asked.

"I dunno, maybe ten. No, more like fifteen."

"How many guards?"

"Definitely more than the doctors...call it thirty."

"Do you remember if the food was prepackaged? Or did they grow and cook local food?"

Jack sat on the bed next to him. "Jeez, I'm not sure. I mean, I only ever got wrapped bars and shit. I think...yeah, I do remember seeing a cafeteria once."

"And they kept bringing in kids in? To replace those who died?"

Jack brought her legs up on the bed and hugged her knees. "Yeah." She shivered a little, and Donnelly patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a supportive fashion.

"Okay, and how big was this place? Like football-field sized?"

"It was bigger. Call it two football fields in size. Like a big school, something like that size. And the planet had life, we were in the middle of some big jungle."

Donnelly tapped the fingers of one hand against his leg. "Yeah, that might be enough to nail it down."

Jack looked at him with something like hope. "You got an idea? I already tried narrowing down to just planets with jungle areas. There's more of 'em than you'd think."

"That's part of it. But a facility like you describe requires logistics. You always gotta remember logistics." Donnelly was silent again. The technical problem he was wrestling with with faded away in his mind, to be replaced by the greater, more horrible problem.

Jack tilted her head as she looked at him. "Assface? You okay?"

"Not really. This...Christ, Jack. If Cerberus was behind something this heinous, I can't keep going on here. I'm here to fight the Reapers. I can't be a part of anything like this..."

Jack gently poked him in the side with her elbow. "Let's deal with one thing at a time, eh? We have to find the hospital first. Then see what we can dig up there. Then if it turns out it was run by Cerberus, we need to figure out how to steal the Normandy from them, because fuck those guys. Oh, and do that while being watched over by an AI and a overachieving superwoman - who, admittedly, has a very nice ass - and not die in the meantime. Then we go fly the ship up the Collectors' dick and not die from that, either, because fuck them in particular. And then maybe turn pirate or something. Heh. You think we can get Shepard to wear an eyepatch?" She chuckled.

Donnelly felt a click in his stomach. A vague notion which had been swirling around in his head for a while now, ever since he had started on his little 'blind spot' project, had finally been given voice by Jack.

"Okay, I need to think about our approach," he said aloud. "I've got some notions, but I need to chew them over a little more. We should meet again tomorrow night. Oh, one other and very important thing. Don't tell anybody about our little 'blind spot' here, okay? Not even Shepard. Not yet."

Jack looked a little confused, but nodded. "Sure," she said. "Sweet dreams, or whatever."

Donnelly handed all of his notes to Jack and headed back up the stairs, with one phrase in particular echoing through his head.

Steal the Normandy.