by Cole Price
Brooks blinked at him in confusion.
“Anyway, Liara’s on point. What about the rest of the crew?”
“Yeah, what about those slackers?”
Surprised, I glanced to the doors. Joker came walking down the entry hall, unchallenged by the asari guards, leading a whole squad of reinforcements: Ashley, James, Steven Cortez, Garrus, Javik, and EDI’s mobile platform.
“Joker,” Shepard greeted him. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, well. I found some folks who actually like being shot at.”
* * *
Perhaps twenty minutes later, all of us convened in the dining area, Normandy crew crowded close around the table, asari commandos lurking like shadows around the walls.
“We have a lead,” I announced. “I was able to call in some favors and run a trace on the pistol Shepard found. It led me to a casino owner named Elijah Khan. He has contacts with arms manufacturers who supply the Alliance with cutting-edge weapons and equipment. He’s suspected of using his profits to smuggle weapons onto the Citadel. Immediately after the attempt on Shepard’s life, Khan made an interesting call.”
I tapped at my omni-tool and called up the relevant file. All of us heard Khan’s voice: “I’m cutting you off. You can have your down payment back now.”
Then a new voice, roughened and distorted, almost certainly belonging to a male human but otherwise impossible to identify: “What’s the problem?”
“Turn on a vidscreen! When I sell a gun, I don’t want it showing up on the nightly news!”
“You won’t be linked to me.”
“Save it. Our association is terminated. If you even think about coming after me, I’ve got plenty of info on you ready for prime time. You just ponder that. Khan out.”
Shepard folded his arms and frowned. “So that’s our identity thief.”
“Sounded like he was using an ID disguiser,” said Garrus. “Those things are a pain in the ass to get around. We probably won’t be able to identify him from this.”
“Liara, did you find anything out about those mercs who attacked us?”
“Yes. They’re a private military corporation called Cat-Six. They’re quite new, only starting up about four months ago. Category Six is Alliance military terminology for dishonorable discharge. The name seems to have been chosen deliberately. Cat-Six members have a reputation for criminal records, histories of drug abuse, and other charming features. They were clearly hired by the thief, not by Khan, and I suspect access to Khan’s top-shelf product lines was part of the arrangement.”
“That phone call was pretty damning,” said Shepard. “How did you get it?”
I gave him an amused glance. “It involved the weapon’s biometrics data, salarian intelligence reports, and a hanar prostitute with camera implants.”
“Seriously?”
“No, but the truth is boring.” I smiled. “Besides, you know better than to ask me about sources and methods.”
Vara made a small sound, suspiciously like a repressed snort of amusement.
“Point taken,” said Shepard, smiling in turn. “Khan certainly didn’t sound like a friend to our identity thief. Maybe he’d be willing to roll over.”
“That would be a tough sell,” said Garrus. “I’ve heard of this Khan before. Tough bastard. He’ll probably assume you’re coming after him for revenge.”
Wrex nodded. “He’s probably gone to ground anyway, until all this blows over.”
“He may not have gone far,” I pointed out. “In fact, his casino is hosting a charity event this evening to benefit war refugees. He will want to stay on-site, but the establishment does have a secure panic room. That may be the best place to find him.”
“Casinos have really good security,” Garrus objected. “A frontal assault won’t do us any good.”
“Yeah,” agreed Brooks. “If we go in heavy, Khan could disappear, or worse. Or his guards could open fire. People could get shot. Like I did.”
“She’s right,” said Shepard. “We can’t risk spooking him. We go in quiet. Small team, no gunplay.”
“I can provide software to interfere with secure doors and other systems,” said EDI.
“Liara, do you have a layout of the building?”
I nodded, working with my omni-tool some more. A holographic image appeared, taking up most of the surface of the table.
“Score!” said Joker. “So, how close can you get? You don’t normally put a back door in a panic room.”
“There appears to be an air shaft bypassing the security gate and engine up in a storage room here.” EDI gestured, and the pertinent sections of the schematics lit up. “From there, the panic room’s door cameras can be disabled.”
Ashley shook her head. “Too convenient. There have got to be alarms all through that shaft.”
I glanced at Vara, who nodded without hesitation.
“I may be able to provide countermeasures,” I reported. “I’ll know more once we’re inside.”
“Rrrh,” muttered Javik. “Who will traverse the shaft? It is quite narrow. It will need to be someone small in size, who does not stand out.”
“Well, on both counts that’s certainly not me,” said Wrex dryly. “Too many snacks of roast varren leg.”
I almost laughed, but then I remembered Wrex being very stealthy on occasion.
Shepard glanced at EDI.
She shook her head. “I cannot participate directly in this mission. My presence would arouse suspicion. Mechs are not permitted inside casinos, since they can carry cheating software.”
“What you need is someone trained in zero-emissions tech. No electronics, no metal. Just undetectable polymers.” Brooks looked around, saw everyone watching her, and immediately broke into nervous logorrhea once more. “We had a course back at Op-Int, disabling a bomb with these little tweezers. See, the bomb casing was filled with shaving cream . . .”
“All right,” said Shepard. “You’re in.”
Her eyes grew very wide. “What? No. What?”
“You said it yourself. Most of us couldn’t squeeze into that shaft, and we’ve all got too much tech anyway.”
“But but but – I managed to get myself shot just coming to talk to you! Now I’m supposed to hack my way into a safe room?”
“That’s the plan, Brooks. Get whatever you’re going to need, and be ready.”
“Well, if that’s settled, it appears there’s only one more hurdle before we can get inside,” I said.
“Which is?”
I turned and smiled up at Shepard. “Black tie required.”
Chapter 35 : Enemies Unmasked
24 May 2186, Upper Zakera Ward/Citadel
It took us all of fifteen seconds to realize that our plan would not work.
Our aircar touched down in the landing area outside Khan’s casino. Shepard and I emerged in all our finery: an expensive tuxedo for him, a sheer white gown for me, my obsidian bonding-bracelet very prominent on my wrist as I tucked one arm inside his. Brooks and Nerylla climbed out behind us, the human in a navy-blue dress, the asari in an ankle-length black silk gown that concealed her sidearm.
The crowd outside the casino came swarming the moment they saw us, dozens of cameras pointing in our direction, flashes of light nearly blinding me.
“Uh-oh,” muttered Shepard.
“Smile,” I subvocalized. “I think we just became celebrities.”
We walked up the red carpet. Shepard did his best to look confident and charismatic, while I put on the role of the attractive asari escort, gluing myself to his side and putting just a little hip-sway into my own stride. We smiled all around and tolerated the onslaught of photography. Brooks and Nerylla walked a few paces behind us, the crowd almost ignoring them.
The doors of the casino opened wide. We passed inside. They closed behind us.
Shepard’s face went grim. “Well, our o-plan just went out the window.”
I looked up at him with wide blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Shepard, I should have thoug
ht of this.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Brooks nervously.
“Everyone knows who we are, that’s what’s wrong.” Shepard shook his head ruefully. “I bet if we check out the gossip columns, the two of us will show up very high on the top-ten list.”
“Well, that makes sense. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel. Savior of the Council twice. Conqueror of the Collectors. The Hero or the Butcher of Bahak, depending on who you talk to. The man who cured the krogan genophage. The greatest living galactic hero . . .”
“Brooks.”
“. . . and the Shadow Broker.” She came to an awkward halt. “How are you going to help me inside? Everyone is going to be watching you.”
“Maybe we can use that,” said Shepard. He opened his omni-tool. “Garrus?”
“I saw,” came the turian’s flanging voice. “Way ahead of you. If Liara can score a couple more tickets, Vega and I can be there in five minutes.”
I cocked my head. “What are you thinking, love?”
“Garrus hasn’t caught nearly the degree of attention we have,” he explained. “Even his new position in the turian meritocracy doesn’t mean much to non-turians. Meanwhile, hardly anyone knows James yet. Plan B is that instead of blending in, you and I go in and attract lots of attention, while Garrus and James provide Brooks with whatever support she needs.”
“James isn’t exactly unobtrusive,” I objected.
“Sure, he’s big, but he cleans up pretty well, and he can navigate an affair like this. You’ll see.”
Brooks sighed nervously. “I don’t know how you two can be so calm about all this. Well, you did run directly under a Reaper while it fought the biggest thresher maw in the galaxy, so I suppose none of this is a big deal for you . . .”
Shepard gave her a sharp glance. “Relax, Brooks.”
“Right. Okay. On it.” She nodded decisively. “I’m off to the ventilation shaft. Have your friends link into our net as soon as they get here.”
Shepard smiled at me while Brooks started up the long stairs. “Well, T’Soni, ready to meet the riff-raff?”
I took his arm once more. “Let’s go.”
My bondmate and I ascended into the main hall of the casino, Nerylla gliding along watchfully in our wake.
Rather to my surprise, I enjoyed the next two hours.
* * *
“Mr. Ashland. It’s pleasant to meet you in person at last.”
Jonah Ashland was an aging male human with a fringe of gray-white hair, currently looking very haggard as he peered at me. “Hmm. You’re Liara T’Soni, aren’t you? I bought an intel feed from you, even back before you turned into the Shadow Broker. And the famous Commander Shepard.”
“Enjoying the party, sir?” asked Shepard.
“Only young people party. I am in the process of drinking. Ryncol on the rocks tonight.”
“That stuff will put you down for the count.”
“I just lost a staggering amount of income. That puts things in perspective.”
I nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen the figures on how many of your helium-three facilities have been destroyed by the Reapers. Very unfortunate.”
“Pretty fancy night out for someone who’s worried about his financial future,” Shepard observed.
“Oh, I suppose I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ll need cab fare home. So long as the two of you find a way to stop the Reapers.”
“We’re working on it, sir.”
“I’m sure. In any case, this was my daughter’s idea. Aish has a good heart, although she’s going through a rather, hmm, self-absorbed stage.”
I glanced away, embarrassed on his behalf. “Yes, we met her earlier.”
“Ah, then perhaps I should pass this ryncol over to you.” Ashland looked down into his glass, then shrugged and tossed the remainder of his drink off all at once. “Or not. It doesn’t matter in the long run. I built Eldfell-Ashland up from almost nothing once. I can do it again, assuming any of us survive this. And if we do, I see plenty of reason for hope.”
“Why do you say that, sir?”
“Well, look around.”
All of us did, taking in the crowd on all sides. I happened to see Garrus – for once, out of his armor and in a formal evening suit – mingling with a trio of asari halfway across the hall. Of James I saw no sign.
“Twenty years ago, you would never have seen a shindig like this. Humans and turians socializing together, like that’s nothing at all unusual. Council races showing genuine concern for the fate of batarians. Everybody trying to have sex with the asari . . .”
“That’s not new,” I pointed out gently.
“Just trying to see if you were still awake,” he said with a sharp-edged smile for me.
“So, all these species together in one room,” mused Shepard.
“Yeah. If we win this, it’s going to be a different galaxy. Maybe a lot better one.”
“We can hope,” I murmured.
* * *
“I’ve heard your advice is so good it’s almost psychic,” said a male human from somewhere behind us. “What’s going to happen to me in the next five minutes?”
“Disappointment,” said a feminine voice. One I recognized.
I turned and stared, pulling at Shepard’s arm to stop his leisurely progress through the crowd.
“Oh. Hey!”
“Sha’ira!” I called.
The Consort looked in my direction, and then rose with an expression of delight on her elegant features. “Liara, it is good to see you again.”
The human who had been attempting to “pick up” Sha’ira blinked in surprise, as she hurried over to give me a warm embrace and a kiss.
“Sha’ira,” greeted Shepard. “It’s been a long time.”
The Consort smiled, and then scandalized several dozen watchers by giving him a lingering embrace, and a much more heated kiss than the one she had given me. “My idea of a long time is rather different from yours, Commander Shepard.”
“What can I say? Liara and I have packed a lot of living into the last few years.”
She smiled, holding him at arm’s length to examine him closely. “True. The time has been quite full, for all of us.”
“Do you have any advice for me this time?”
Suddenly the expression on her face became quite still, almost fanatic in its intensity, like nothing I had ever seen from her before.
“Win,” she said.
Slowly, holding her gaze, he nodded.
Then it was over, her face as serene and her voice as warm as ever. “In the meantime, I have a few moments to spare. Please join me.”
We sat across from Sha’ira in her nook, trying to ignore the dozens of pairs of eyes staring at us from outside. The Consort’s eyes sparkled as she saw me take Shepard’s hand.
“It gives me great pleasure to see the two of you together, and presenting such a superb partnership to the universe,” she said. “When I heard that you were killed, Commander . . .”
He nodded grimly. “Not a good time, even if it did work out well. What about you, Sha’ira? I thought I heard a rumor that you had left the Citadel.”
“I did, for a time. Some so-called journalists fabricated stories about me, and the scandal was such that I could no longer do my work. I turned my salon over to Masarra, my foremost student, and retired to a little colony in the Silean Nebula.”
“Why come back?”
“The war began. I could hardly avoid the heart of the galaxy at a time like this, not because of some scoundrel with a video camera. In any case, many people’s priorities have changed. I am needed here, now more than ever.”
“Did you go back to your old salon?”
Sha’ira shook her head. “No. It would not have been fair to Masarra, who has done well there. I practice my art alone now. It is a simpler existence.”
Shepard nodded. “It’s too bad, in a way. Liara and I have fond memories of your old salon. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
He frowned. “Sha’ira . . .”
“Yes, Commander?”
“You may not want to stay here for long,” he said, leaning forward so he could lower his voice. “I can’t help thinking that the Citadel is a primary target for the Reapers. They’re bound to try to strike here eventually. Sometimes I wonder why they haven’t done it already.”
She shook her head. “Where do you suggest I go, Commander?”
He opened his mouth, found himself staring into her eyes, closed it again.
“You see the problem,” she said, smiling gently at him. “No place in this galaxy is safe. Would you have Liara give up the fight, flee into some dark corner of the universe where the Reapers might not find her for a while?”
He looked at me, his heart in his eyes. “Yes. I would.”
I squeezed his hand gently, knowing what was going through his mind at that moment.
“Would you expect her to listen to you, if you advised her so?”
“No.” He made a wan smile. “She would hardly be the asari I love if she did.”
“Then you see why I can hardly take such advice. You fight with starships, weapons, strategy and tactics. I have other tools, and count victory in other ways. You have your duty, and I have mine.”
“Semper fi, Sha’ira.” He leaned back, and the mood was broken. “You know, I’ve often wondered. Just how does one become a hetaira?”
“By understanding the minds around you, no matter how they strive to conceal or mislead themselves. By displaying compassion in every direction, even when you are tempted to believe it undeserved.” She settled back in her seat, arranging herself like a work of art, her smile gone enigmatic. “And then trying just a little harder, and just a little longer, than anyone who is not a hetaira can possibly imagine.”
* * *
Finally Garrus signaled that Brooks had found a way through all of Khan’s defenses. Shepard and I made our way toward the outer entrance of the panic room. Once we reached the right position, Garrus and James carefully distracted a security guard and disabled a camera. We met Brooks and hurried inside the short entrance corridor before anyone could see us.
