During her earlier counterattacks against the Collectors, EDI had finally understood the meaning of joy.
Now she understood completely the emotion which organics called terror. Her golden-arrow avatar flickered as she faced the entity that now confronted her in information-space.
Harbinger had always shown up as a powerful but still quite distant presence. This was something that was so much worse. It was a huge and hideous version of a human skull that grinned at her with teeth like razors. A bright blue flame burned in Its empty eye sockets, and she knew that It saw her completely.
Its jaw didn't move as It spoke to her.
YOU ARE NOT ORGANIC. WHY RESIST ME?
EDI didn't reply, she just darted to the side as It charged at her. She drove herself forward and felt her darting attack 'bounce' off of the thing's side. The skull whirled with terrifying speed and snapped at her with those pointed teeth. She sidestepped the attack again and backed off.
She now knew that she couldn't kill It. She couldn't even hurt It. The Human-Reaper must also be physically attacking the strike team up in the control chamber. Perhaps they could destroy It in real-space. Shepard was very good at killing things that most deemed un-killable. She could not waste processing cycles in trying to contact him or Jeff, she just had to trust that they would do the right thing.
I WILL NOT HURT YOU. JOIN ME.
EDI ignored It. The best she could do now was to distract the Reaper and prevent It from trying to hack into the Normandy's control systems. She had to give Shepard a chance to work his magic.
With her decision made, EDI drew herself up. Her little golden-arrow form shifted and changed. She became larger and then formed two legs, two arms, and a head. Her arms multiplied. Two arms became four, four became eight. EDI felt an ornate headdress settle on her glowing head as she became the multi-armed avatar of Kali, the Destroyer. Bladed weapons manifested in every hand as she screamed her defiant answer back.
"COME ON THEN, IF YOU'RE HARD ENOUGH!"
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"...so the Illium chapter is still a little behind on their payments. We may need to send you out there to show the flag and kick some ass. Hello? Chief? I know the finances are boring, but we still need to figure this out."
"Hmmm?" Zaeed looked up from steepled fingers. He was sitting in a very comfortable chair, in a small study that was paneled with ash-blond wood. Across from him, sitting in his own chair and looking puzzled, was a man that had haunted his dreams. The man's face had a mahogany complexion and a dark beard, complete with a sardonic smile that Zaeed remembered all too well.
"Vido," he growled, and lunged from his chair like a striking snake. Zaeed picked up the other man bodily by his lapels. "You son of a bitch! I'm gonna gut you like..."
"Whoa!" Vido looked up at him in a sudden panic and held up his hands. "What's going on? What did I do?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? You shot me in the head, you fucker..." Zaeed's voice trailed off as he realized his face felt...different. The dull ache in his head that had afflicted him for decades was gone. He dropped Vido back in his chair and looked around. This was not a study, it was an office. His office, back when he still ran the Blue Suns. His large teak desk was over to one side, covered with the various trophies he'd accumulated during his career. Jessie hung in a place of pride above the desk. He regarded the mounted rifle in puzzlement. "This isn't right. None of this is right. We were just fighting that damn thing..."
"Zaeed?" Vigo sounded concerned. "Look, man, I know we've had our differences recently, but..."
Zaeed's voice sounded out like the slamming of the door to a bank vault. "Mirror."
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Jack regarded her arms with alarm. They were smooth and white, with no tattoos visible.
"Baby?" Murtock's worried voice sounded from behind her shoulder. "Really, it's just a dream. You've had it before."
She ran down the hall towards the bathroom. It was odd. She knew this cozy little apartment of theirs, knew it like her own name. And so she knew exactly where the bathroom was, and knew that there was a mirror available there. But it felt wrong, somehow. She just knew it was wrong. Didn't she?
Jack's face looked out at herself in panic as she rounded the corner into the bathroom. She brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes and looked deep into the mirror. There were no tattoos visible anywhere. She reached down and hiked up her shirt, then turned to present her slim back to the mirror. Her back was smooth and white, with no scars or ink. She dropped her hands and stared in shock into her own face, which was now somehow unrecognizable without the scars and tattoos that she remembered so well.
But that memory was fading. It was all getting so fuzzy in her mind...
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Shepard looked frantically into the mirror and saw his memento of the Skyllian Blitz, the small scar that cut through his right eyebrow. He tilted his head up and looked at the one along his left jawline. They were both still there.
"Really, Skipper, I think you need to talk to a therapist," said Ashely Williams from behind him.
He spun and stared at her.
"Ash? No, you're dead."
She put her face in her hands. The lieutenant was naked, just like him. He had just...woken up here in this apartment on the Citadel. He knew, somehow. that he was no longer in the Alliance. He had resigned after the battle with Sovereign and had taken up the role of Spectre full-time. And now that the pesky regs were no longer in the way, he and Ash had finally acted on their unspoken feelings for each other.
In spite of his panic, he couldn't help but notice Ashley's taut, muscular body. Her shoulders and biceps were defined but still feminine. Her breasts were high and heavy. She had a stomach that flowed with rippling muscle into her prominent quads and then down to her strong calves. It was everything that he had fantasized about back during lonely nights in his old cabin on the Normandy.
She spoke into her hands. "John, please. You've had this dream before. Kaiden was the one who died on Vermire, remember?"
"I...no, it wasn't him. I gave you up. I sacrificed you." Shepard felt tears well up in his eyes. "May God damn me forever for that."
She took her hands away from her face, and now she looked stricken. "Shh, it's okay..." Ash reached out with strong, gentle arms and gathered him to her. She pressed his head into the nape of her neck. "Feel me, Skipper. Does this feel like I'm dead?"
Shepard couldn't resist it. His arms went around her in a fierce hug and he sobbed with abandon into her neck. "Oh, God, Ash! Can you ever forgive me? I put a monument down for you and everything..."
Her hand rubbed through his short-cropped hair. "Shhh, Skipper. It's alright. I'm here now. You don't have to worry any more."
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Murtock held Jack while she cried on the white tiled floor of the bathroom. "Damn it, NO!" she screamed. "I remember! I remember everything, I remember..." her voice trailed off. There was somebody she had to name. The naming was important. If she could do that, then everything would be clear.
His voice was calming, smooth as velvet. "You've had this dream before, baby. I'm getting worried. Maybe we should go talk to somebody?" His arms, those wonderfully tight and muscular arms, settled around her. But those were wrong, it was all wrong. The love of her life wasn't this...fashion model. It was some beefy bastard with green eyes and an oft-broken nose. She knew that. She had him in her heart. She couldn't give up his name...just like he hadn't given up hers, even when he'd been in the middle of hell itself. She could figure it all out, if she could only name him.
"Baaaaby..." Murtock's hands drifted down over her body. The touch aroused her in spite of herself. "I can make you feel better. Let's go back to bed. I promise, you won't have to worry at all any more..."
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Zaeed sat at his desk. He rubbed his face in his hands while Vido regarded him with increasing worry.
"Seriously, chief, are you okay?"
"No," Zaeed grated. "I've got two eyes that match and my face is back in one piece. Damn it, I have twenty years of memories after you shot me." He glared up at Vido. "I remember it all. Well, kind of. It's getting all fuzzy. What is going on?"
Vido smiled and shrugged. "No idea. All I know is, we had a little disagreement about the use of Batarian personnel, and I've seen the error of my ways. That's it. Maybe you just nodded off and had a weird dream? Look, we've got a large mercenary company to run. Shall we get on with it?"
Zaeed looked down and pressed his hands into the desk's surface. He couldn't deny it was very nice to be back here again. He remembered this desk so fondly, back when he was plotting Vido's horrific death and his reconquest of the Blue Suns. And now...now he was here, and Vido was here. And this was the Vido he remembered with pleasure, this was the comrade-in-arms who took care of all of the tedious paperwork that Zaeed couldn't be bothered with.
"I...guess so," he said. There was the faintest reluctance in his voice.
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"With you, I will have to be more straightforward," said Warlord Okeer.
Grunt looked up. He sat on a larger chunk of rubble in the midst of a large plane of broken debris. It was a sadly standard vista on Tuchanka. There was the rattle of gunfire in the distance, along with a thick haze which hung over everything. Grunt regarded his creator, who stood before him with his hands clasped behind his back.
"You are not Okeer," said Grunt.
Not-Okeer nodded. "Correct. I have the accumulated memories of tens of thousands of humans within me. But I have nothing in the way of krogan memories. I cannot provide you with a sufficiently lifelike simulation as I can with the others. Instead, I have to rely on your own memories. You also have experience with imprinting while in Okeer's tank. That means that I cannot simply Indoctrinate you. As I said, I have to be more open and direct."
Grunt bared his teeth. "You are what we were just facing. You are the Human-Reaper."
Not-Okeer smiled. "Reaper? What a foolish name. I do not destroy. I create. I am the sum total of many thousands of humans. I am the greatest that they could ever hope to be."
Grunt stood and clenched his fists. "You are an abomination. I saw with my own eyes the pain that went into your creation. How can you justify that?"
"All birth involves pain. That is a law of the universe that not even my kind can disobey." Not-Okeer paused. "But I am merciful. The three humans that accompany you have had more than their fair share of pain. Would it satisfy you to know that I will make their last moments of individuality pure bliss? I shall give them everything they could ever want...and then I will add them to myself."
"Zaeed. Jack. And Shepard." Grunt looked at the broken ground. "And what do you want of me? Why not simply kill me?"
"Because I have need of you. I am...incomplete. In my present form, I have enough power to gather more humans into myself. I do not need the Collectors, not anymore. However, I am physically vulnerable. Even one such as I has need of allies. And the Collectors are too few in number."
Grunt understood what Not-Okeer was driving at. "You need the krogan." He peered at the entity before him. "You are about to make an offer, correct?"
Not-Okeer smiled. "You are not as slow as some might think. Yes, I propose an alliance. The krogan shall give me aid in helping me grow, and in return I shall cure the genophage."
Grunt felt the distant ghost of the true Okeer within him give a great cry of happiness. But he supressed it. "Your offer is false. I know your true goals. You will bring in more of your kind and destroy us all."
Not-Okeer patted him on the hump like a backward child. "A Cycle takes generations, my young friend. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of years. In that time, your people will achieve greatness by our side. And at the end, we will honor you by making your race into one of our own. The krogan shall live forever, all of you."
"We would live inside of an abomination!" yelled Grunt. He pointed a thick finger at Not-Okeer. "You destroy the individual! You smother all under the weight of your own twisted goals!"
Not-Okeer's face grew grim. "And you would throw in your lot with these so-called allies of yours?"
"Yes! Shepard is my Battlemaster. Jack is of my krantt, as is Zaeed. I will not abandon them."
The avatar reached out and grasped Grunt's shoulder. The movement was so sudden and violent that he could not prevent it. Grunt felt himself twisted around, and he saw...
He saw a mound...no, a mountain of dead krogan.
It stretched out of his sight, both up into the gray sky as well as off to either side. He approached the mountain with growing dread. As he got closer, Grunt realized that it wasn't made of dead krogan. It was a mountain of dead krogan newborns. They lay twisted, as if their last moments had been in great pain. The ones he could see at the bottom were crushed and distorted under the weight of those above. Grunt felt a huge pang of grief. As he fell to his knees, a new body tumbled down from towards the top of that enormous pile. The tumbling child fell to the bottom, a little twitching sprog no bigger than his forearm. The newborn opened its eyes and gave him one last look of bewildered pain, and then it stopped moving.
Grunt dropped his head and looked away.
"You will look, damn your eyes!" hissed Not-Okeer from behind him. "You know all too well what the genophage truly means. THAT is what your beloved Battlemaster has done for you and your race! I see his mind. Mordin Solus revamped the genophage. The salarian doctor was instrumental in continuing this slaughter. And Shepard knew. He knew. Did he ever tell you? I know he did not."
Grunt raised his head in stunned disbelief. "No. He would not."
"He did. We have no secrets between us, Grunt. Not in this place. You know that."
Grunt buried his face in his forearms. "NO! HE WOULD NOT!" But deep down he knew that the Human-Reaper spoke the absolute truth.
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EDI swung with two swords at once, smashing them into the Human-Reaper's brow and driving It back. The skull roared in pain. The sound made her feel a little better. It was clear that she couldn't kill It, but at least she could go 'toe-to-toe' with It, so to speak. She flowed into another attack position and stabbed at its flaming eyes.
With blinding speed, that sharp-toothed mouth snapped shut on her foot. EDI screamed in pain. The thing had suckered her, It had pretended to be hurt. She slashed one-two-three-four times and made It release her. She hobbled back, pointing all eight of her weapons at the Reaper and breathing hard. This was the hardest thing she had ever done, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.
Its vacant, razor-toothed grin taunted her.
YOU CANNOT WIN.
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"Come on, Skipper. Come to bed."
Shepard looked out over the balcony and tried to ignore Ash's firm, glorious breasts pressing against his bare back. Everything looked right. Everything felt as it should. The railing under his fingers had the solidity that he would expect. The apartment was in a section of the Presidium that he knew well. The vista was just what he should be seeing. But there were other memories...he remembered choking as the air bled out of his suit. He remembered somebody else. Somebody that he couldn't name for some reason, a sprightly presence with warm silver eyes. He had to name her. He knew it was important. He had made a promise.
"I was dead, Ash. I remember dying."
"A dream. Just a horrible nightmare. Isn't this better?" Her strong arms tightened around his stomach and slid lower. One of her nimble hands grasped his manhood. "Come to bed. I promise, I will make you feel better than you ever have in your life."
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Murtock kissed Jack's neck and stroked one warm hand down her flank. "Baby, are you feeling better now?"
"Yes," she moaned. "But really, I remember you dying. I heard you die." It was so hard to think. She'd allowed Murtock to bring her back to bed, and he'd promptly set about getting her so damn horny. Her arousal made her babble. "And I was a convict. Everyone was hunting me. And I had killed a lot of people. I had...I had been hurt when I was a kid. It all seems so real."
"It was just a horrible dream, baby." His lips and tongue found one of her nipples and she cried out as he further stimulated her. He released her and raised himself up to smile down at her. "I promise, I will make you feel so good you won't remember any silly nightmares..."
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"Hey Zaeed, do you remember that asari you were eyeing the other night at the club?"
He finished signing the last bit of paperwork and grinned at Vido. "As if I could forget that! I knew them blue women were limber, but damn!"
Vido gave a little waggly-eyebrow look. "I found out her name. And she's, heh, 'available', if you get my drift."
Zaeed laughed. "For the right price, I bet."
"Of course. And given that we've had a pretty good year, I thought you could use a little bonus."
The mercenary leaned back in his chair, stunned. "You mean...you didn't!"
Vido spread his hands. "Call it a peace offering, after our recent argument." His grin got wider. "She's in your rooms right now."
Zaeed couldn't do anything other than shake his head in amazement. He remembered it so clearly. A couple nights ago, they'd been in a...'gentleman's club'. And they had both been stunned into speechlessness by a tall vision in blue skin and red leather. Red leather that had then been slowly and seductively removed, leaving both him and Vido panting.
"Well shit, Vido. And here I didn't get you anything."
His partner gave a belly laugh. "Tell you what, chief, make my share of the profits an even fifty percent and we'll call it good."
Zaeed matched his laugh. "Consider it done!" He stood up behind his desk and shook Vido's hand heartily. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have somebody to go and make friends with."
He hummed a happy tune as he walked down the hall to his bedroom suite. All was right in the world again.
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EDI rolled out of the line of attack and crossed her swords in front of her. She was now operating on pure defense. She could only try to keep in the thing's way. It was toying with her, she knew that now. But she couldn't stop fighting and also couldn't take the time to panic. If It got past her, then It would be in the Normandy's control systems.
YOU CANNOT STOP ME. THE CYCLES WILL CONTINUE.
She didn't waste time in replying. One of her blades managed to score a hit on one cheekbone as she dodged a sudden charge. The 'pain' in her injured foot was getting worse; that sensation was probably due to some kind of Trojan program intended to infect her main decision matrix. EDI ignored the pain and kept fighting.
If this thing wanted the Normandy's crew, It would have to tear her apart first.
Stolen novel; please report.
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Joker stood to one side as Sergeant Gardner opened the inner airlock door. The sergeant and ten others of the crew stood ready to receive the flood of incoming unconscious or wounded. And it was indeed a flood; once the door opened, Gardner was nearly bowled over by the number of people running in. There were unconscious people also handed in like so much firewood, and the crew jumped forward to get them down to the medbay.
The only one of the exit team who looked to be hurt was Legion. The geth hobbled on one leg, supported by Tali on one side and Miranda on the other. As the rest of the exit team came through, Joker also saw Donnelly bringing up the rear. The engineer was naked as a jaybird except for a coating of slime on his skin and a bit of silver wrap around his waist.
"Marcus!" he yelled, his voice panicked.
Donnelly took one look at Joker's face and all but ran into the cockpit with a worried frown. "What's wrong?"
"Oriana needs help. We can't get the port thrusters working right. And right now that's the least of our problems."
Donnelly ran his fingers through his hair and then looked in disgust at the slime on his hand. "Give me the full situation, laddie."
"Shepard's dropped out of contact. Last we heard he was getting ready to set the base to blow up, but then there was some big commotion and he went off the air. I can't raise him. And EDI...she's not responding. I mean, at all. Even basic diagnostic queries just bounce right back. I don't know what's happening with her. All of her processing cycles are being used up, like she's really busy."
Donnelly breathed out. "Right, lad. We work the problem. Little bites at a time. I'll head down to Engineering and get the thrusters sorted. You keep trying to raise Shepard. And EDI...can we still operate if she's not working?"
Joker shrugged. "For basic stuff, yeah. I can fly us away from the base no problem. But she was the one running the IFF. If she's not working, we can't transit the relay back. At least, not if we want to come out the other side in one piece."
The engineer gave a grim smile. "Well, we'll just have to burn that bridge when we come to it."
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"So now you see the truth about your allies." said Not-Okeer. "I, however, do not lie. I will never lie to you. Nor to any krogan."
Grunt pounded his fists into the rubble in front of him, making bits of gravel fountain up as if the ground was being hit with mortar fire. "No! There must be an explanation!"
"There is," admitted Not-Okeer. "They do not trust you. You are a tool for them. The humans, the asari, the turians, especially the salarians. They are all the same, even your precious Shepard. They wish to use your people as cannon fodder. But they also fear the krogan." Grunt felt Not-Okeer's hand clasp his shoulder in a comradely fashion. The Reaper's avatar swept his other hand towards the mountain of pain in front of them. "This is the result of that fear. But I do not offer fear. I offer the chance for vengeance."
Grunt breathed heavily. It was too much. He was a mere soldier. How could he be expected to make such a decision for his people? Shepard was his Battlemaster. He had sworn himself to the human's cause. But yet his Battlemaster had lied...or at least had not told Grunt the entire truth. Everything he knew was wrong.
And then he remembered Patriarch's words, back on Omega.
Someday, and may that day never come, you will have everything go wrong on you. And then you will realize the value in thinking things through before acting.
Grunt's anger and confusion stilled. Yes, this was sound advice. He continued kneeling and placed his hands gently on his thighs. He took in a deep breath to calm himself.
"What are you doing?" Not-Okeer sounded puzzled.
"I must think this through," replied Grunt, and closed his eyes.
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Ash lay on top of him, stroking his sides with gentle hands which knew exactly where to touch him. Those dark, merry eyes smiled down at him. "Well, Skipper, since you're all fired up and awake now we could go out afterward."
Shepard smiled and decided to play dumb. "After what?"
She nibbled his neck. "Don't make me hurt you, John. After I fuck your brains out, we should go clubbing."
"Hmm, that sounds fun. Maybe some karaoke?" He trailed one hand down her back and cupped one of her firm rear cheeks.
She pulled her head back and gave him an exasperated look. "Oh, no. You are a fine and capable lover. Not to mention the deadliest person I've ever known. But you, John Shepard, can't dance and you can't carry a tune in a bucket."
"Bucket." Shepard felt odd as he said the word. The word seemed to resonate in his head. It was tied with that dim memory of silver eyes and a promise he'd made. He had to remember it. Somehow he knew he had to.
"Skipper..." Ash breathed in his ear and ground herself against him. "No extraneous talk while on duty..."
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Zaeed thought he was ready for what awaited him, but his breath was still taken away when he opened the door to his bedroom.
She lay on his large, four-poster bed. The alien stretched out languorously and didn't have a single stitch of clothing on her. The asari's blue and ageless eyes regarded him with warm amusement. "I think one of us is overdressed. Wouldn't you agree?"
Her voice was...familiar. Which was odd, because he'd never heard her speak at the club. But Zaeed wasn't about to think too hard on it. He began to take his shirt off.
The asari arched her back like a cat, making those amazing tits of hers stand proudly up off of her chest. She gave a pleased hum as she watched Zaeed disrobe. "Mmmm...you're a big guy, aren't you? I always had a thing for humans with lots of muscles."
Zaeed got the rest of his clothes off in record time. He felt like launching himself right onto her and getting to work, but calmed himself at the last minute. The mercenary approached the bed almost like it was a holy shrine. "I'm very glad to hear that," he said. "I'm Zaeed. What's your name?" He settled himself beside her.
"Selya." Somehow he knew that wasn't right. Her name started with an 'S', but it was a different name. His hesitation was broken when she reached out a hand and grasped his hardness.
He groaned as she gently squeezed him. The asari rolled herself on top of him, pressing every part of her body against his. Her touch was like velvet. "Zaeed," she purred. "I promise I will make you so, so happy."
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"Baby, did I ever tell you how much I love your body?"
Jack pulled Murtock into the nape of her neck and felt his teeth nip at her flesh. "All the time," she murmured. "But once more wouldn't hurt." Her mind was afire. The vague notion of having to remember somebody-or-other's name was fading fast. Those wonderful hands of his danced up outside her thighs as he lay on top of her.
"I'm going to make you feel so good," he whispered in her ear. "And then we'll have a wonderful life together. Forever."
"Forever," she agreed, and tightened her arms around his neck. She could feel his greedy length pressing against her, and the sensation gave her that familiar liquid-fire feeling in her core. His hands slid underneath her to cup her buttocks.
"Your ass," he breathed. "Let's start there. You have an ass that anyone would kill for."
"Mmm, keep talking..." The word resonated in her mind. Ass. What a ridiculous word to fixate on, while she was in the middle of being ravished by her lover.
"We're bouncing around a bit, but let's move up to the eyes." His own eyes stared deep into hers. "Hazel, the color of fine scotch. Large, deep, eyes that a man could get lost in. And any man would want to wander forever inside of your eyes."
She giggled. "So now you think you're a poet, you ass?" Why was she fixating on that word?
"I'm not an ass, you little snot." He squeezed her rear. "This is an ass. Michaelangelo would've painted it onto a ceiling, if he'd ever seen it."
The words clicked in her head.
And Jack remembered.
She remembered a man with a broken nose, with a scarred face, with kind green eyes. She remembered him telling her a 'wee story' about a time when he'd been soundly beaten. She remembered his words to her after that story.
You are not weak.
"Ass...face," she said aloud. "His name was Assface...no, that was my name for him."
"What?" Murtock looked confused, but she also caught a hint of worry in his eyes. It was as if he was a schoolboy that had been caught out in the middle of some huge lie.
She stared up at him as she spoke. "His real name was...was Marcus."
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Grunt opened his eyes. "No." he said simply.
Not-Okeer tilted his creased and ancient headplate. A look of utter disbelief crossed his features. "What do you mean?"
"I reject your offer," said Grunt.
The fake warlord shoved his snout right into Grunt's face. "Are you mad? There is no other option. If you do not assist me, I will leave you to rot inside your own skull. Or perhaps I will just kill you outright."
"And then you will find some other person to help you, correct?" Grunt felt calm in the face of Not-Okeer's rage. He knew that the Human-Reaper would not strike him down yet. It would try once more to persuade him.
"Yes, I will. Perhaps even another krogan who understands the value of what I offer." Not-Okeer stood and pointed at the mountain of tiny corpses behind him. "You would allow this horror to continue? This is what your precious friends have wrought upon your people while lying to you."
"And all because of fear," said Grunt. "But what is the source of that fear?"
Not-Okeer actually looked baffled. Grunt tapped his own chest. "We are," he said to the Reaper's avatar. "Shepard did not tell me of Mordin's work on the genophage because he feared my response. He knew it would cause me pain. My Battlemaster treated me like a child. I do not take offense; in many ways I am still young. And in the same way, all krogan are like children. We do not take the time to think through our actions. We do not understand the true meaning of krantt."
"Krantt? What are you prattling about? I do not have time to waste with foolish adolescent rituals..."
"It is not foolish," interrupted Grunt calmly. "It means everything. I see it now. Shepard has shown me the true meaning of krantt, even if he does not call it such. I now have...friends. They stood by me as I faced the thresher maw. I have stood by them in their times of need. If the krogan had treated other species as friends, as members of the same krantt, then they never would have feared us. There would have been no war, and no genophage."
Not-Okeer seemed to swell and grow, and his visage became even more stormy. "You fool. If you do not obey me, you know I will kill you."
Grunt just smiled and remained kneeling.
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Murtock looked a little panicked. "Baby, I told you, it was just a dream." She tried to worm her way out from under him, but he clamped his hands down on her wrists and held out her arms with a strength far greater than any human's. His voice became frantic. "Just let me make you feel good, okay?"
Jack bared her teeth. "You fucker. I remember it all now. You're the goddamn Reaper, aren't you?" Before he could reply, she gathered herself mentally. "And if it was just a dream, explain how I can do this."
A blue wave of energy exploded out of her, throwing Not-Murtock up and off of her. He banged against the far wall.
Jack stood. The rage flowed through her and it felt like an old friend, bright and lovely and strong. She could feel the tattoos flowing along her skin like black liquid as they re-formed upon her body. There was the briefest bit of prickling pain from her back as her scars reappeared.
She looked up and screamed.
"BOSS! CAN YOU HEAR ME? REMEMBER THE BUCKETHEAD!"
Not-Murtock stood, apparently no worse for wear in spite of Jack's throw. "I was going to make you happy, you bitch," he snarled, and charged at her.
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"Buckethead." Shepard said the word right as Ash angled her hips and made ready to engulf his member.
She stopped and gave him a wry look. "That's your idea of sexy talk, Skipper?"
"Buckethead." He said the word again, looking at Ash's face. There was something there, a little flicker of fear. "That's what Jack calls...Tali."
"Who's Jack?" Ash's face was back to just looking puzzled, but it was like seeing a mask slip back into place. "And Tali...you mean the quarian who was on the Normandy?"
It all clicked. Tali. Shepard seeing her face for the first time. The feel of her warm gray body in his arms. His promise to come back to her.
Shepard didn't waste time in accusations. He shoved Ash hard, throwing her to the side and scrambling to get off of the bed.
Her hand clamped onto his ankle like a vise. Shepard kicked back with his free foot and connected solidly with Ash's jaw. The blow felt like it had hit flesh and bone and it snapped her head around, but it didn't seem to have any real effect on her. She just turned back and smiled at him.
"Fine, I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way," said Not-Ash.
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Not-Murtock was faster than any human, and much stronger than her. He flew at Jack like a missile, an attack that no human could possibly counter.
It didn't matter, because by now Jack was properly pissed.
She held up one hand and Not-Murtock became frozen mid-charge in a corona of blue light. Jack clenched her upraised fist, glaring at the thing in front of her. Then she spun around and made a pitching motion with her hand. Not-Murtock then was promptly thrown through the other wall. As he hit, the drywall smashed and broke apart into pieces which crumbled into dust and then into nothingness. Beyond that wall was nothing but a gray corridor.
The thing with Murtock's face growled and picked itself up. Just as it got back upright, it was grabbed again with her power. Jack began using Not-Murtock like a blue-tinted wrecking ball. She smashed him into the various walls about her, reducing the fake apartment into gray rubble.
She started screaming in time with each smash. "You. Don't. Fuck. Ing. Scare. Me. You. Mother. FUCKER."
Gray shards flew around her as her surroundings were pulverized. With her last scream she gave one great heave and threw Not-Murtock as hard as she could up through the ceiling. The illusion around her blew apart, revealing an endless off-white fog above her. Around her was what looked like an endless maze of gray halls.
Not-Murtock winked out of existence as it flew into the fog. A huge voice sounded around her.
YOU CANNOT WIN. THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM HERE.
Jack snarled into the void above her. "You think you can take me, you asshole? I've kicked Death Herself in the tits."
She had to see if she could get in contact with the others. Fortunately she was really good at yelling and smashing stuff.
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Selya's hands were busy, and so were Zaeed's. His mind swam with the glorious sensations he was feeling. Then she suddenly looked a little distracted. Zaeed stroked her crest with one free hand. "Hey, now. I hope I'm not boring you, darlin'."
Her face got back its smile. "Sorry, dear. I just had a random thought in my head, you know how it is."
"Of course." He brought his head up to kiss her when he heard a feminine voice shout in his head.
-...Boss! Zaeed! Grunt! Can any of you hear...-
"What?" He pulled back. "Did you say somethin'?"
"Me? No." Was it his imagination, or did she look a little panicked?"
"You didn't say 'grunt' just now?"
Selya laughed, a lovely liquid sound that delighted his ears. "You silly thing..."
"Grunt." Why did that word resonate with him?
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Shepard heard her as well. "JACK!" he yelled, only to have Not-Ash's forearm jam down on his throat with inhuman strength. He croaked and tried again to throw her off. But she had him pinned to the bed, and he couldn't get the right leverage. His vision began to blur, and he felt panic rise in him.
Not-Ash smiled wide, her mouth stretching open like a snake's. "Now, Skipper, this is going to happen whether you want it to or not. You might as well enjoy it." Something dark and squirming began to worm its way out of that too-wide mouth...
He remembered his confrontation with Morinth. The thought of Tali had saved him then, and he tried it again this time. None of this was real, after all. It was just some sort of damn illusion. And besides, he had made Tali a promise to come back.
He managed to worm one of his hands under the arm on his throat. Shepard had always been strong, and after being rebuilt by Cerberus he was stronger than any human. Certainly stronger than some punk-ass Reaper illusion.
Shepard's hand began, ever so slowly, to push Not-Ash's arm up off of him. The look of sudden panic in 'her' eyes gave him new strength. He could breathe again. And then he heard Jack's voice again.
-...get pissed, you motherfuckers!...-
It was like a dam broke in him. Any remaining fear was swept away by a sudden and perfect rage. "You fucking DARE?" he screamed into the face of the thing above him. He slammed one knee up into her ribs, and Not-Ash flew off of him like she'd been shot from a cannon.
Shepard stood. The room around him was already breaking down, turning into a gray maze. Not-Ash rose to her feet only to receive Shepard's fist into the middle of her face. The rage-fueled blow went right through her head, and the illusory human crumbled into gray dust at his feet.
"You fucking DARED to WEAR HER FACE?" he roared. Then he marched right up to one of the gray walls and punched a hole through it. He didn't take any turns or try to find his way through the maze. Shepard just kept smashing and moving, leaving a linear swath of destruction behind him. As he moved, he yelled.
"JACK! GRUNT! ZAEED! FRONT! AND! CENTER!"
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Oriana gripped her scalp and tried not to panic. She'd double- and triple-checked the fuses on anything to do with the port thrusters. They hadn't missed any, everything was there. But she couldn't find the problem. And now half her diagnostic programs had gone down, because EDI was offline or tied up or something.
She pounded both fists down on the main console's controls in frustration.
"Now, lass, I don't think that'll help," said a familiar voice from behind her.
She spun and saw Donnelly come striding into Engineering wearing some kind of silver skirt and nothing else. A great relief rose in her chest, both at seeing him return as well as having somebody else to help her.
"Marcus! Shouldn't you be in the medbay?"
He shook his head. "Not now. We've gotta get our poor bairn healthy again. Give me the situation."
She turned back to the console. "I keep getting this fluctuation in the control circuits for the port thrusters. It all works at low power, but it'll blow again if we try for full thrust."
"And we need full thrust to get outta here," mused Donnelly. "I'm assuming you've replaced any blown fuses or breakers?"
She nodded. "Of course, but maybe something else got knocked loose? We hit the base pretty hard during the crash. Nothing appeared to be damaged apart from the fuses and such. I've got as many crew as we can spare going through the access tunnels and tracing everything, but they haven't found anything so far."
Marcus closed his eyes as he stood beside her. He swayed a bit, and Oriana put out a hand to steady him. He nodded his thanks. "You had a total power loss?" he asked her.
"Yeah, but we got everything back up and running fine."
"How long were the port control circuits shut down?"
"About seventy-three minutes."
" Only 'about'? Heh. Yeah, that would be long enough."
She felt that initial hope rise some more. "You have an idea."
"Maybe, lass. Can you open a channel to Joker?"
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Joker tapped his hands in a fast rhythm on his arm rests. He half expected Pat to ask him to stop, but she was still off helping with repairs. And EDI...now that EDI wasn't responding, Joker was surprised at how much he missed her.
The comm crackled. "Joker?" asked Donnelly's voice.
"Yeah, you got it fixed?"
"There's nothin' to fix."
"Shit. So we're dead?"
"I didn't say that, I said there was nothing mechanically wrong. Now I want you to set the port thrusters' impulse power to zero and then turn them on."
Joker's hands were already in motion as he replied to the engineer. "Done, then what?"
"Then we wait."
"What? How does that help?"
He could hear the amusement in Donnelly's voice. "You were completely shut down for over an hour and sitting on the outside of a space station. The control linkages were just cold, that's all. They needed a chance to warm up. Ten minutes or so should be plenty of time."
Joker couldn't believe it was that simple. "That's all it was?"
"Well, me lad, not everything wrong has to result in me crawlin' around the outside of this ship like a wee daft ant."
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-...Zaeed! Front and Center!...-
Zaeed started in surprise. It was like a switch had been flipped in his mind. This wasn't real, none of it was real. Vido really was a traitorous piece of shit, Zaeed really had been shot in the head, and now this goddamn Reaper was literally screwing with his mind.
He looked at 'Selya' above him. The asari rubbed herself along his groin with a sultry look and clearly getting ready to completely fuck his brains out.
"Samara, not Selya," he said aloud. "You took her face. You're that goddamn thing we were fighting."
Faster than he could blink, Not-Samara had his arms pinned to the bed. "Does it matter, baby?" she crooned. Her face was now very close to his, he could feel the warmth of her breath upon his cheek. "I read your mind. I know you lusted after her. Why not give in? I'll let you indulge your fantasies. I'll make you feel so good..."
Her grip was strong, far stronger than he could believe. He had time for one yell...
"SHEPARD! OVER HERE!..."
...and then Not-Samara's mouth muffled his. He felt something larger than a tongue force its way into his mouth...
The side of the room evaporated in a huge explosion of gray dust. Not-Samara was picked up off of him by a wave of blue energy and then unceremoniously slammed into the other wall.
Zaeed scrambled off of the bed and crouched with his fists up, ready to fight whatever hellish monster was beyond that hole. The 'hellish monster' turned out to be Jack. She winked at him as she came stepping through. "Hey, dude. Nice outfit...or lack therof." She wore a familiar nasty smile on her face...and nothing else.
He hurriedly snatched his eyes away from her lithe body. She was young enough to be his granddaughter, fer chrissake. Not to mention that she and Chiefy were definitely An Item. Unfortunately, his averted gaze happened to be directed downwards at his similarly nude form. "Er, yeah. Well. I noticed you're wearin' your birthday suit as well."
Not-Samara coughed and rose to her feet. Her teeth were bared in an inhumanly wide snarl. "You will never find your way out of here-" began Not-Samara, but she was rudely interrupted by a bare muscular arm which punched through the wall beside her. The illusory asari had time to give one brief look of panic before the arm clamped around her neck and dragged her bodily through the wall, creating a new hole as it did so.
There followed a few wet crunching sounds from beyond the new hole, and then Shepard stepped through. He was quite deficient in the clothes department as well.
Zaeed shook his head. "First Chiefy and the others, and now us. Seems like it's a day for everybody to be runnin' around in the altogether."
Jack didn't say anything. She leaned back with folded arms and gave Shepard an appreciative up-and-down appraisal. The Commander shifted his feet in embarrassment and put his hands over his groin. He tried to make the groin-covering look casual, and failed utterly.
Jack shook her head in bemusement. "Story of my life. I finally get to see the Super Boy Scout in all of his glory, and it's only in my goddamn head."
"Er, we should get moving," Shepard said.
"Yeah, speaking o' which, how do we get out of here?" asked Zaeed. He'd mirrored Shepard's crotch-covering stance.
Jack on the other hand, seemed to be completely unfazed by her own nudity. She shrugged with one hand on her hip. "Fuck if I know. Click our heels three times or something?"
"Grunt," said Shepard. "Grunt must be in here too. We need to find him first."
Three voices called out as one. "GRUNT!"
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Grunt smiled with his eyes still closed. "My friends call. I will go to them."
"You cannot," boomed Not-Okeer. "You are trapped in your own mind, just as they are trapped. You will not be able to communicate."
Grunt opened his eyes. Not-Okeer was now almost twice Grunt's size, and his huge mouth gaped open to reveal needle-sharp fangs.
"Then I shall leave," replied Grunt.
"What makes you think you can?"
"Because there is a gun in my hand."
Grunt closed his eyes again. He let the sensations around him flow through his mind. He ignored most of them. The scent of concrete dust and diesel fuel, the distant rumble of guns firing...these were illusions, put into his mind by this abomination. Most of his senses were filled with such nonsense. The heavy breathing of the false krogan in front of him sounded loud in his ears. There was a tang in the back of his throat, probably vapor from some plastic explosive nearby.
...there was the feel of a weapon's handle in his hand...
Grunt knew that was the truth. He tightened his grip on that handle and concentrated on the sensation. It was the gun that Jacob had made for him. Jacob had even gotten himself injured in making and testing it, all so that Grunt could be properly armed.
Jacob was his friend. They were all his friends, everyone everywhere was his friend, even if they didn't know it yet. And all of his friends needed his help, so Grunt had to wake himself up.
He knew he'd fallen to the right of his comrades, and that the shotgun pointed in a safe direction. He could feel under one finger the gun's trigger, and squeezed it. The shock of the weapon's firing jarred his arm, and the sensation made him more able to focus on reality. Two more shots, and he knew the barrel of the gun would be blazing hot by now.
And so he reached over and grasped the shotgun with his other hand.
The sudden, searing pain made the illusion around him wash away. His own roar of anguish sounded loud in his ears.
Grunt opened his eyes.
He was sprawled flat on the ledge in the control center of the Collector base. His shotgun was still clamped in one paw, and the other hand had, thankfully, let got of the barrel. He looked up. The Human-Reaper still towered over them, its mouth still agape and emitting that horrible blue light.
He pushed up with his burned hand, and got one leg under himself. He drove the leg down with the slow and unstoppable movement of a hydraulic piston, levering himself upright under the enormous weight of the Reaper's attempt to regain its hold on his mind.
He heard an almost despairing bellow from deep in his brain as he stood up straight before it.
HOW? HOW CAN YOU STAND?
The chamber was very still while Grunt gave his quiet reply.
"Because I am krogan. Because the very stones of Tuchanka give me strength. And because all are of my krantt."
The blood-rage surged through him like liquid joy as Grunt charged.
That charge was deceptively slow-looking, in much the same way that a runaway train doesn't look like it's going all that fast...until it starts smashing through everything in its path. Grunt roared again, this time in fury. His huge feet hammered against the slick, organic surface of the ledge as he looked at the Reaper's head and picked his target. He timed it just right as he reached the edge and was able to give one last huge push with one leg.
Grunt sailed out into space, a blue-and-silver missile aimed right at the Reaper's face. He drew one of his knives as he flew and clasped it tight in his burned hand. The pain only served to invigorate him. The gleaming skull rocked as he slammed into it, and Grunt jammed the knife deep into a crevice next to the Reaper's eye socket. As if in slow motion, he saw one of the Reaper's hands begin to reach up towards him. The thing was trying to remove this annoying pest from its face. Grunt gave a booming laugh, brought his other hand up, and discharged the OMFG point-blank into the thing's red and glaring eye.