Commander Shepard made the ultimate sacrifice to [red energy]DESTROY [/red energy] the Reapers. Eight years later, the survivors of the war seek to put the galaxy back together.
Disposing of his empty cup in a recycling receptacle near the Consort's chambers, Dern was careful to wipe his hands on a napkin before approaching. "Zinnius Dern," he says to the turian, respecting the protocol without question.
The other turian's omni-tool flares to life and a surprised expression comes over his face.
Voice print recognized , the device states in a milky smooth female voice. Welcome, Gir'Rimas nar Mesa. The consort has been waiting eagerly for your arrival.
He steps to the side and gestures for you to come in, while the original offers a quizzical look to the remaining individuals.
Well, if he's on the list, the rest of us probably are too...
Grace steps forward with a smile as she sets down her luggage, extending a hand to the first turian.
"Grace Wright. I think all four of us are on the list, actually. Either way, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Wow. I guess you all took the same transport or something. The surprised turian and his partner do not bar you from accessing the quarters beyond. The door opens automatically to reveal one of the most sumptuous spreads you have ever seen. Delicacies from all over the galaxy are represented. German Chocolate Cake from Earth. Ice Petal Paste from Palaven. Roe from several different kinds of fish kept on the citadel! It is tastefully presented, with chefs from various races on hand to present and explaining each dish to the double handful of guests who made it to the soiree before you did.
The guests are familiar to each of you- they are acquaintences! Noone you know personally or particularly well, but people you have seen before. A graduate of the Alliance Biotic Corps talks excitedly with a scientist from New Canton, while an accountant from Illium speaks with what can only be a quarian trader. Sliding throughout the room, seamlessly ensuring everyone is socially lubricated, are a group of asari- along with one human woman aND a strangely veiled krogan- who could only be those called to serve as the Consort's acolytes.
In one of the most amazing and skillful feats of social manipulation you have ever seen, the acolytes keep your acquaintences entertained even as you enter and are recognized by them, keeping you from being mobbed or bogged down in unwanted conversation. The chefs smile invitingly, encouraging you to eat after your long trip with a gesture. The soft music in the background is reminiscent of a hushed whisper, and you cannot help but feel relaxed as you enter.
No answer is forthcoming from within her head, so Hestia allows the Consort's acolytes to clear the way and wanders around the room checking out the food stations. She steers clear of roe.
I didn't know there were fish on the Citadel.
After a circuit of the room, nodding at acquaintances and pausing to snag a second piece of chocolate cake, Hestia casually meanders to stand near Grace, eating cake and watching the flow of the social scene and conversation through hooded eyes, musing on how similar in some ways parties are to battlefields - the ebb and flow of action, the mingling and confusion. With no conversation inside her head, she is forced to resort to verbal contact with other beings.
"So, Grace... what do you think this is all about?" she asks the older woman, quite quietly, "I can't think of one reason for me to be here, frankly."
"So, Grace... what do you think this is all about?" she asks the older woman, quite quietly, "I can't think of one reason for me to be here, frankly."
"Neither can I. I'd only just finished up a job for some local officials on Illium, and then my contact called and said that I had important business I had to attend to on the Citadel."
Grace smiles faintly as she takes in the view of the room.
"It's funny. Nine years in the Alliance, and this is my first time on the Citadel. Different from how I thought it would be, but I like it. Like Nos Astra without all the mercs and business execs wandering about."
She turns back to Hestia.
"What were you up to before you got the message to come here?"
Dern approaches Grace and Hestia with a small dish of disgusting-looking food. "Now I am sorry I ate before we came here. I feel like the invitation should have indicated food was being served."
He then makes his way over to a random turian and starts a conversation. "Are you frequently a guest of he consort? I myself have never been here."
Hestia quirks a wry smile. "At least there's cake. I was getting checked out by the docs -- annual thing for biotics, sorta. There's still research going on for improvement of human biotics. They like to examine us as we grow and develop. Before that, I was briefly assigned to a unit on Elysium. The bad guys seem to think that since Earth was beaten up, we're going to ignore the human colonies and not protect them. Then there was the checkup and the order to come here." She looks ruefully at her empty plate. "Gotta admit it, this cake is fabulous. Want some? We could go get you a piece. Maybe Dern would like it. Poor Gir can't have any. I wonder what the asari do for quarian guests."
Hestia tries to unobtrusively keep an eye out for Gir to see what he does to participate in parties.
"The bad guys seem to think that since Earth was beaten up, we're going to ignore the human colonies and not protect them."
Grace gets a far-away look in her eyes as she turns her attention back to the people in the room.
"These days, everyone needs protecting. Lots of people, not just humans, either, especially out where the Council and the Alliance don't hold much sway. There's always going to be bad guys, but there's also always going to be people like you and me who get in the way of their making life hard for regular folks. Things are going to get better, I know it."
Hestia Harper wrote:
"Gotta admit it, this cake is fabulous. Want some? We could go get you a piece. Maybe Dern would like it. Poor Gir can't have any. I wonder what the asari do for quarian guests."
After a moment, Grace turns back to Hestia.
"No thanks on the cake, luv, though I appreciate the offer. And I'm sure the Consort's staff has something that Gir could fit through his emergency induction port if need be. They really do seem to think of everything."
Gir separates from the group as they enter, and begins to pass through the crowd of gathered familiar faces, pausing only ever briefly for passing pleasantries, listening to the collective conversations of those present for something of interest.
GM:
So, in the skills section, Deceit is described as being able to modify other actions, hence why I'm using it and Investigation at the same time. Also, Investigation describes itself as being for eavesdropping, hence why I think it's appropriate here.
Also, what's the make-up of the crowd like? I can't imagine more than one or two other Quarians, and it sounded like there weren't many humans either? Just a general impression, from his passing through.
Too many eyes to ghost, too many familiar faces for a change of my own, and, given our host, too high security for data retrieval. Not that I should really be considering infiltrating the systems of a potential employer, but if my hunch is right, I don't like this one bit.
Stealing an occasional glance to wherever Hestia happened to be standing, and keeping an eye on anyone who seemed to hover around her over much, Gir eventually emerged from the crowd to find himself at the tables serving dextro foods. He sighs as he takes in the sheer variety of foods on offer. Even with the right protein strain, most of this food was still unsafe for him. With even less Quarians than ever out in the galaxy, it was getting harder to find basic nutrient paste, let alone something flavoured. Still, if there was anywhere that would...
"Tell me, what varieties of nutrient paste do you have?"
After giving the chefs a satisfactory grilling, covering ingredients, preparation, cooking, and even going so far as to giving the packet a quick scan, he eventually introduces it to his feeding systems, with the hoped results.
"Mmmmmm.... Is it possible to get some of this to go?"
Gir stays at the food table for a bit, sampling however many different nutrient paste meals they had prepared, deciding on his favourites, and complimenting the chefs as he goes. And, while he's there, the occasional probing question about what they know about the evening's events and attendants works itself into the conversation, hoping he might get lucky with a loose tongue on a well informed caterer.
GM:
From the book, Contacts seems to be the skill to ask the right questions or get information out of people. However, it also describes Rapport as the skill to use for digging for information without people realising it, which also seems appropriate. So, this time, I'll roll both, and you can tell me which one is most appropriate going forward for this kind of thing.
Again, to not make it obvious that he's probing. Also, the packets of nutrient paste that he picks out as his favourites have a tendency to be misplaced. Particularly any Turian chocolate.
"These days, everyone needs protecting. Lots of people, not just humans, either, especially out where the Council and the Alliance don't hold much sway. There's always going to be bad guys, but there's also always going to be people like you and me who get in the way of their making life hard for regular folks. Things are going to get better, I know it.
Hestia sighs. "Maybe, but I'd sure like to decide who to protect instead of being ordered around. I see all kinds of kids wandering Earth and the colonies, and they're not in uniform. Blasted in loco parentis. But, you know... hey, you said you enlisted at 18. I never enlisted and I just turned 18. Shouldn't I be, uh... emancipated? Or adult? Maybe while I'm here, I can find a lawyer and get my legal status clarified. Thanks, Grace! Maybe things really are going to get better!" As usual, the girl turns Grace's statement of optimism about the galaxy into something about her, personally.
Grace wrote:
"No thanks on the cake, luv, though I appreciate the offer. And I'm sure the Consort's staff has something that Gir could fit through his emergency induction port if need be. They really do seem to think of everything."
The girl beams at the older woman, then grins as she sees Gir sampling nutripaste. "Look, you're right! There's something for Gir, too. He's a good guy, very loyal. Didn't need to stay in touch once the Alliance had us, but he did. I'm not sure why. Say, I'm going to go catch up with that dink who finally managed to graduate, see who he's talking to. Catch you later, Grace. Try the cake!"
With a wave in Gir's direction, Hestia trots over to her Academy acquaintance, taking a peek at Dern's plate and shying away as she passes, then rudely interrupts his conversation with the New Canton scientist. "Hey, Narek, how's it going? You finally graduate? Polina ever figure out how to throw up a decent barrier? Who's your friend?" She sticks out a hand in the direction of the scientist. "My name's Hestia. What are you guys doing here?"
The barrage of questions ends when she runs out of breath.
Scene dressing post- Also, if it must be stated, please do not look under the spoilers unless expressly directed/your name is on them!
The soiree is in full swing by the time you arrive, and the guests are quite battened on the rather luxurious food. Conversation creates a low din in the room that doesn't keep the music from being enjoyed. While the occasional familiar face does raise glass in toast, the conversational skills of the acolytes continue to keep them entertained until or if you approach. As people go to get food, an acolyte waits behind while they speak to the chef. Occasionally a lone acolyte will look to you, giving you an appraising glance. You know that much of the stories about asari mysticism as well as the salacious tales of what goes on in the consort's quarters are bunk, but the weight of their eyes does make you feel something between uncomfortable and honored.
The odd being out- the veiled krogan, speaks softly, almost like a boulder rolling down a grassy hill. Something in their body language implies femininity, but it would be rude to assume.
Towards the back of the party is a room that at first seems to be a bathroom but opens into something larger. Something could be back there, but you would have to go over to check. Noone is barring you, however.
Zinnius
Spoiler:
The turian guest, who works in private security on Illium, notes that he has never been here before, no. In fact, he doubted he ever would- trips to the Citadel just don't happen on a guard's salary, even in the private sector. He nods in the direction of the human, Grace, who you acquainted yourself with earlier, and notes that she is something of a hero on Illium for stopping some kind of fake bomb Cerebus had set up. Or at least that's what the vids said. She is the only person he recognizes here. He congratulates you on winning the contest, and excuses himself to grab more cake.
Gir
Spoiler:
You make your way through the crowd- though it is a bit awkward making your way through a people who eat without the use of induction tubes, elbows are something you need to practice avoiding- and listen in on conversations. It seems that everyone here- save for perhaps yourself and your immediate companions- were told they won some sort of contest, which is some kind of tour of the Citadel by the Consort's acolytes.
The chefs are not insulted in the slightest by your concern over the food, and there are a few stereotypical quarian favorites here that are indeed safe for you to eat- and have already been packaged for transport, including turian chocolate. Unfortunately, the chefs know next to nothing beyond their field, although they do congratulate you on your winning of the contest. One does let it slip that it is strange that you and your friends arrived so late to the function.
Just about every race is represented here save for volus, drell, vorcha and elcor.
You also overhear all of the spoilered conversations.
Hestia
Spoiler:
Narek laughs in surprise as you approach, throwing you a quick salute and introducing you to the scientist, Jenna. He marvels at meeting you here, and is eager to catch up with you on everything. It turns out that Polina never did get her barriers up to snuff, she switched to the Sentinel track as soon as she possibly could. Jenna laughs as well, listening in on the conversation and occasionally interjecting, saying that she is glad to be surrounded by such courageous individuals- the salarian over there saved her life a while back when Cerebus tried to destroy her lab! She states that she feels noone else deserves a tour of the citadel more, and as she says that, Narek, apparently trying to woo this woman with some success, states that his biotics could have gotten her out faster- has she ever been carried by a vanguard going at top speed? When she notes that she hasn't, Narek nods at you and escorts her to some of the more adult beverages...
Hestia makes a joke about how very fast Vanguards are as the couple departs, though the mention of Cerberus chills her gut and dampens her enjoyment of the reunion.
She watches the pair get something from the bar, then has a revelation.
Hey, I'm eighteen. I can drink legally, right? And this looks like a party.
A quick glance around the room doesn't discover any officers or commanders -- keepers, as she regards them -- so she saunters over to the bar and confidently says, "I'll have what he had," indicating the departing Narek with her head and gracing the bartender with a smile.
Hestia having made her way over to the bar with some people that are presumably friends of hers, Grace makes her way over toward her acquaintance from Illium.
GM questions:
Any more information you could provide on this accountant you mentioned? Also, I just realized that I'm not entirely sure what Grace found on Illium-- some kind of abandoned Cerberus facility, right?
Gir was not happy with what he was learning. It almost put a bad taste in his mouth. Almost. The nutrient paste was very good. Still, he couldn't let such deception slide. That was his specialty after all. Giving his thanks to the chefs, he looked back out on the others.
Hestia... doesn't need more reasons to distrust aliens. Zinnius... seems to be playing the social game. That leaves Grace. Hopefully she is more savvy than she seems.
He begins to make his way back to Grace, keeping an occasional eye on the others as they disengage from their conversations, and trying to get an idea of the layout in an emergency. While he had no doubt he could easily make an escape if things were to turn south, he needed a plan that didn't involve being invisible for Hestia. And the others, he supposed.
Where did she move on to? Wait.... is that a -
Investigation/Alertness 3:
Deceit:4d3 - 8 + 3 ⇒ (2, 3, 2, 1) - 8 + 3 = 3
Gir does his best to hide his rising panic, as he realises that Hestia is at the bar, in a room full of aliens, as well as his sudden path change as he turns in her direction.
Coming up behind Hestia with a light tap on her shoulder, and leaning in to reduce the opportunity to be overheard.
Hestia:
"Are you sure that's a good idea, captain? We are on duty after the tour is over."
Hoping that Hestia picked up on his implication, Gir glanced back over to the others, before putting some space between himself and the crowd.
Hestia accepts the glass of iridescent aqua liquid from the bartender with a nod of thanks, then scrutinizes it carefully to be certain there is nothing wriggling in it. Moving away to a quiet corner, she pauses a moment to savor her luck. No CO, no gentle voice inside her head saying we won't do that today, Hestia, because we are not ready for such a thing while her hand falls despite her own wishes. Just peace and quiet.
Hey, this isn't so bad.
She sets the glass to her lips, feeling the potent fumes tickle her nose, and takes a sip. Just then...
tap tap tap
...on her shoulder makes her start guiltily, inhaling some of the searing fluid. She sputters through Gir's warning and nods hastily, retreating to that far room, away from curious eyes, as she tries to stop choking, eyes streaming and glass forgotten in her hand.
Slinking off to what might or might not be a bathroom in an attempt to uphold the dignity and majesty of humanity.
Dern inclines his head politely as the turian walks away. He sets down his plate on a nearby table and scans the room for those who arrived with him. Seeing Hestia and Gir together, he heads toward them, an unreadable but serious expression on his face. When he reaches them, he whispers, "There are a great many coincidences here." His eyes continue scanning the crowd as he parses the situation in his mind.
"On a positive note, I may be receiving an award," he adds. His voice has become chipper again, but his expression is anything but.
Having gotten a small, but sufficient, distance to reduce the risk of being overheard, Gir turned to Hestia ... to find her heading the other direction. Quickly going back into motion, he closes the distance just in time for Zinnius to join them.
Turning to Zinnius, while trying to keep pace with Hestia, "may the ancestors curse your infuriatingly long legs, child!", Gir tries to match his chipper tone. "Not an award, Zinnius, a tour of the Citadel, provided by the Consort's acolytes. You should have read your invite more closely. We are all" and Gir indicates the various guests with a motion of his hands, "quite fortunate to have won such a rare treat. It was unfortunate to have arrived so late, that everyone was here before us. I'm sure the Consort's acolytes couldn't have made a mistake on our invitations, after all, far too experienced for such."
Falling in pace with Zinnius, and giving Hestia a bit of a lead, Gir attempts to give him something of a significant look as he continues, hard as that is while veiled by his helm. "Though, if we are lucky, we may be fortunate enough to meet some celebrities. I have overheard that there are a number of heroes, in their own right, at this evening's festivities. All were involved in shutting down some Cerberus activities, it seems, and saving some good number of lives, at no small risk to themselves. Wouldn't that be a treat, to meet such heroic individuals?"
Gir does his best to maintain the chipper tone and friendly body language as they go, and continuously tries to get a read on the crowd, particularly the acolytes, to see if they have drawn too much attention.
All Grace found in the abandoned cerebus hideyhole was a large supply of nutrient paste, indicating it was used at one point in time by cerebus, but no longer. The nutripaste became a hot commodity on the planet, bought by many different corporations ostensibly to research ways to combat hunger, but really ended up as little more than some kind of strange anti-Cerebus trophy.
A strange social dance occurs, with Grace walking in the general direction of the one person in the room she knows, Hestia rushing for what she hopes is the facilities, Gir following in her wake, and Zinnius watching, following patterns within the room itself.
Gir
Spoiler:
being as close to Hestia as you are, you notice the layout of the room was not just for brunch- a mundane alarm-beam hidden behind a plant is tripped by the hasty kid. It is too large and cumbersome to be anything other than civilian technology, and the beam is not of the right wavelength to trigger any bombs or anything like that. However you do note that as soon as it is tripped...
A small chime from the various omni tools the other guests have goes off in unison, followed by a mass sigh of dismay. One of the acolytes steps up and says, I'M sorry gentle folk, but you know what that chime means -we must continue our tour. I hope you enjoyed this repast. Next up is an inside look at C-Sec and C-Def and an explanation on how the two organizations vary...
Pairing off with each of the less notable guests, the acolytes smoothly escort them from the room within moments, using conversation and even flattery to keep any of them from noticing that the four of you did not join them.
Grace
Spoiler:
even the accountant from Illium, who noticed you, waved, and was about to make conversation is quickly snapped up by one of the asari, who laughs quietly as she compliments the cut of his suit- he flushes, nods at you and is corralled from the room
Just like that, you are alone.
Hestia
Spoiler:
You notice little of this, as you are simply making your way to the room in the back, which, you notice is actually something of an office. A light comes on in the room as you approach, and all you can see is a sumptuous desk that separates you from a lavish office chair which is facing away from you and a few large and exotic plants - no relief at all unless you get creative...
Hestia steps into the room and takes a couple of quick, dancing steps to the side, to get cover from the party behind the doorway. She ducks her head to cough into the crook of her free arm a couple of times, dislodging any stray liquids that have decided to take the tracheal route rather than the desired esophegeal pathway. A quick dab at her eyes with her free hand before Gir and that odd Salarian (aren't they all, though?) enter the room leave her feeling better prepared to face the world. Eyeing her drink suspiciously, she opts to hold it in a casual, sophisticated manner rather than try sipping it again, hoping the mere presence of alcohol would make her seem mature.
Many coincidences, she thinks, Dern's words finally taking hold, what does he mean by that?
Dern watches the partygoers clear out with some suspicion. He follows Hestia to see if the girl is getting herself into trouble.
On arriving in the room, he is relieved to see her standing there with her cocktail. "Are you all right, Miss Harper?" he asks. He scans the room. "I do not think guests are meant to be here..."
"I'm fine, Dern, just examining these amazing plants. I wonder where this one is from." Hestia squints at a nearby fuzzy leaf with deep concentration. "Maybe you are right, though I'm sure the acolytes would have prevented my entrance if it was forbidden. They seem pretty on top of everything here. But... what did you mean by coincidences?" Her voice drops at the last sentence.
"Hmm," Dern weighs the circumstances. I don't know where this girl fits into the equation. Best not reveal too much."The situation is strange. I am still formulating a hypothesis."
"The other party-goers have been shown out. We may be expected in the main chamber." Dern makes to leave this room into which they have intruded, then stops short. "I believe that is a Thessian Grey Fern. It needs little water or sunlight, and are therefore a very forgiving houseplant. Come, let us return."
"The situation is strange." Everyone else is gone? Hestia thinks with alarm, peeking into the main room to verify Dern's assertion. She tries to cover her unease with banal conversation. "Thessian? Makes sense. The Consort is asari, right, Dern?" As she prepares to follow Dern to the main room, she takes a second to pour the bulk of her beverage into the fern.
Not attempting to conceal the drink disposal from Dern or Gir.
Gir enters the room more cautiously than the others, taking in the layout of this new room, and keeping an eye out for anyone else besides themselves, or any more hidden surprises.
What is the layout of this second room?
Walking towards a plant closer to the entrance, and crouching beside it Gir says, "The Alliance training regime apparently leaves much to be desired in the way of situational awareness." At this, he moves the plant aside slightly, revealing an alarm beam hidden behind it. "You're lucky all it seems to have done is alert the acolytes that it was time to move the other guests on." Saying this, Gir produces his omni-tool, and attempts the scan the alarm for connected devices. They appeared to be alone, and he'd rather limit the amount of additional surprises the evening had in store.
"Situational awareness?" Hestia protests, "We're at a party on the Citadel, not in the field. What could happen here?"
Despite her words, Hestia feels a chill at the sudden departure of the other guests. Though they seem alone, there certainly could be somebody in the room with them, listening, observing. She hikes around the enormous desk to see if anyone is sitting quietly in the chair, listening to their every word.
Noticing the sudden disappearance of most of the guest, Grace is immediately on her guard. Moving to pick up her bags from where she had left them near the entrance, she scans the room for any signs of trouble and/or her newfound companions. Noticing Hestia's disappearance into an adjoining room, she follows.
As suspicions grow, with Hestia charging in directly, Grace pulling up the rear, and Zinnius and Gir investigating the room more diligently, an eelctronic ripple flashes across the chair as it spins around to face the four of you. Sitting upon it is a mysteriously calm volus, who far all intents and purposes- even electronically- simply was not their before. Despie his diminutive and rotund stature, the volus' presence seems to dominate the huge comfortable room, which, aside from an expensive desk, chair, fainting couch and flora is quite empty.
Folding his hands imperiously, the volus states, "You are quite correct Volus gaspZinnius Dern volus gasp. This is not a room volus gasp for guests. It is a retreat volus gasp for heroesvolus gasp."
Gir
Spoiler:
There seem to be no systems of any sort connected to the beam. Could it be he mundanely contacted the acolytes? There is also no sign of the consort.
"I do not believe we've met," Dern says. "Who might you be and what is your interest in us? I thought we were here as guests of the consort."
Dern pays close attention to the volus, trying to assess whether it is a hologram or some other technology. Systems:4d3 - 8 + 4 ⇒ (3, 2, 2, 1) - 8 + 4 = 4
Gir starts somewhat at the unfamiliar voice, and turns to face the volus as he stands. He hoped Hestia's attention was suitable diverted, as it would hardly do to see him surprised after just picking her up on staying aware.
With the others engaging the new entrant (potential host?) in Q&A, Gir decided it best to keep an eye on any other entrances. Moving along the back of the room, he glances about for other possible entrances, and for anyone new entering into the prior room.
Dice:
Deceit:4d3 - 8 + 3 ⇒ (3, 3, 3, 2) - 8 + 3 = 6
To not make it obvious that he's scoping the place out.
"And if this is for heroes, what are we doing here," Hestia replies dryly, folding her arms.
Grace tries (and fails) to stifle a laugh.
"Ah, a humble hero.volus gasp My employer believes that volus gasp to be the best kind. Please volus gasp, examine these dossiers. They will get you up tovolus gasp speed on the accomplishments of volus gasp your fellows."
Various omni-tools beep (or vibrate for those who prefer discretion) and a wealth of information appears on each of you - nothing too intimate(i.e. none of you know of Gir's fathers gun, Zinnius being drummed out of stg in a sense, Hestia's origin within a Cerebus bunker, or Grace's disillusionment as life in the novels doesn't match what she experienced), but a list of accomplishments in semi-glowing terms. This is information that would have taken not just time but skill to collect.
Zinnius
Spoiler:
The volus is indeed quite real, the technology he used is cutting edge camouflage/cloaking tech
"volus gasp I apologize if I am, ah volus gasp Not who you were expecting. While this volus gasp is a new suit, it does not offer the same, heh, aestheticsvolus gasp as an Asari Consort. Still, I have spent some time as volus gasp bartender. I can create a number of concoctions. Perhaps something more to Hestia's liking? volus gasp
Gir
Spoiler:
Nothing seems out of the ordinary and this room is surprisingly secure. Noise dampeners are in all of the standard places, and..is that a Saronis Scrambler Mark 4 by the plants? That costs about as much as a communication package for a ship! Whoever this guy works for is not just wealthy but connected- the military tech guarantees that anyone listening in electronically will hear garbled noise.
"Oh, don't worry, Gir'Rima volus gasp nar Mesa. Noone else is slated to be here, it's just us, and volus gasp, i have taken suitable measures volus gasp to ensure we are not disturbed. I had an volus gasp associate, but she was called away. Unfortunate, volus gasp as she was actually asari."
The rotund little man presses a button, and a full bar rises from behind him, displaying a number of beverages from worlds all over known space. He pours water for all, including himself.
"A simple beverage, but volus gasp essential to life, as is the bravery you all showed in different ways in your lives. Here volus gasp is to all of you."
"Is it a volus custom to toast with water? A most economical tradition," Dern remarks without taking a drink. "I must add: entering the room under cloak is an impressive bit of theatrics, but you still have not told us who you are or why we are here. You went to great trouble to summon a handful of enemies of Cerberus into one place, under the guise of the Consort." Dern's manner is direct, but not agitated or confrontational. He takes a dispassionate view of the entire proceeding. He will defer making a judgment until he has all the facts.
At the mention of "enemies of Cerberus", Hestia frowns and again absently scrubs the skin of her forearms with her short-clipped nails. After Dern finishes, she ponders a moment, then picks up her glass. "To intrigue," she says shortly, and swiftly downs the water. She tosses the empty glass to Gir with a wry smile. "For analysis in case I keel over."
So entranced by the tech spread across the room, Gir barely registered his name being spoken, and fumbled with Hestia's glass.
Glancing between the others and a particular group of plants, Gir eventually focuses on the former. "Ah. Yes. What Zinnius has said. Who are you? Who is your employer? What do they need a group of "humble heroes" for?"
While saying this, Gir closes ranks with Hestia. As long as they continued to think her an enemy of Cerberus, she'd probably be fine. If he got the opportunity, he'd reinforce that perception.
Up until now, Grace has been standing near the bar attempting to decide between filling her glass with the 400-year-old Serrice ice brandy to her left, or with the inexplicably present bottle of IRN-BRU to her right. Finally, she shrugs and mixes the two together, sipping the fizzy brown sludge with curious interest.
Gir'Rimas nar Mesa wrote:
"Ah. Yes. What Zinnius has said. Who are you? Who is your employer? What do they need a group of "humble heroes" for?"
"You know, that's a pretty good question. I know I'm not much, but my traveling companions seem to be well heroic. We're not exactly larger-than-life, though, like Commander Shepard or Urdnot Wrex or anyone. I'm guessing you need people that can fly under the radar somewhere. Did I guess right?"
Grace gives a cheery smile and downs the rest of her appalling-looking cocktail with apparent relish.
Although you know it isn't possible to see through the enviro-suit, you could swear the volus cocks an eyebrow- if they even HAVE such things- at Grace's choice of concoction.
"Ah, volus gasp yes...astute as well. I suppose I had best put more cards on the table volus gasp before players start to fold."
He straightens himself a bit before continuing.
"My name volus gasp is Barla Von, and I work for the Shadow Broker, an individual who has taken a great volus gasp interest in your... heroics."
He pauses to drink more water.
While Zinnius Dern is only mostly correct in volus gasp his assertion that the Shadow Broker has gathered several enemies of Cerebus here. What has insteadvolus gasp been gathered are a number of people who would have been wiped out by cerberus if they still existed in any real form. That you live is proof that the organization is, essentially defunct. Still, between the Sons volus gasp of Shepard and Tartarus, not to mention STG and Alliance interests still turning over volus gasp stones, most in the world today act as if Cerebus is volus gasp going to strike out at random. They are volus gasp afraid, and this climate of fear is all a despot needs to volus gasp rise to power."
He drinks more water.
"That is to say, a rather lucky despot. volus gasp The saferooms and houses you found were, for the most part, empty. But there at least a dozen out there that have not yet volus gasp been accounted for. All someone with delusions of grandeur would need is to be in the volus gasp right place at the right time to uncover something best left to the dustbin of history. The Shadow Broker believes you all to have the volus gasp right mix of experience and responsibility to ensure that what is in those safehouses volus gaspis destroyed or is simply never found."
"Shadow Broker?" Hestia frowns. "I thought that was a myth. And the myth is that he or she or it buys and sells information, not that he or she or it takes direct action in events."
Destroyed by Cerberus? Though her words are about the Shadow Broker, her mind is in a whirl about the rest of the speech and the implications of more safe houses. Would they have destroyed me? And there are more that haven't been found? What if there are humans in cryo there? Are we to destroy them? Why wouldn't we use whatever we find in these safehouses? This makes no sense. Without realizing it, she blinks furiously as she tries to assimilate the information, assess motives, and imagine possibilities.
"Miss Harper makes a good point," Dern says. "Since when does the Shadow Broker get involved in something like the fight against Cerberus? Indeed, this proposition coming from the Shadow Broker makes even less sense than if it were coming from the Consort, and that is saying something."
The Shadow Broker may well be Liara T'Soni, in which case the active role makes a good deal of sense, but I suspect that we would not know that. My response is based on the larger reputation of the Shadow Broker.
"That is to say, a rather lucky despot. volus gasp The saferooms and houses you found were, for the most part, empty. But there at least a dozen out there that have not yet volus gasp been accounted for. All someone with delusions of grandeur would need is to be in the volus gasp right place at the right time to uncover something best left to the dustbin of history. The Shadow Broker believes you all to have the volus gasp right mix of experience and responsibility to ensure that what is in those safehouses volus gaspis destroyed or is simply never found."
"I'm all for keeping the galaxy safe for us regular people, but do you really think there's something dangerous hiding out there? I mean, all I found was a bunch of old nutri-paste rations from the war. You can count me in and all, but why go through the trouble of finding the four of us, specifically?"
[Hestia "The Shadow Broker is indeed volus gasp real, and does not take an active hand in things. That volus gasp is what *you* are for."
You will be outfitted with a ship, a crew, personal moniesvolus gasp and dossiers for the planets Cerberus safehouses are rumored to be on. volus gasp Due to a...ghost in the machine, you will all be seen as C-Def Operatives checking on volus gasp mass effect relays in the system - to lend credence to volus gasp the ruse as well as be debriefed, you will return to the citadel between trips."
Zinnius "The Consort is a good friend of the volus gasp Broker. The latter had no problem with the former borrowing the volus gasp use of her room for this meeting."
Grace "We really do not know what Cereburs volus gasp has in their safe-rooms and bolt holes. As benign as volus gasp your discovery was, it still shows that the one on your planet was used not just for storage, but volus gaspsurvival at one point in time. That indicates numerous agents provacateur who may or may not know that their organization is dead. volus gasp Here. Take a look at this Alliance video of a volus gasp Cerberus Phantom under...questioning."
Barla Von uploads the video to your omni-tools of the (ME3-Famous!) Scene of a pair of Alliance Intelligence Operatives talking to a captured Cerbrus Phantom, who remains eerily still under aggressive questioning. One of the operatives nods to someone off camera, who attempts to remove the facemask of the Phantom, and then the video cuts out as a small-scale but powerful explosion goes off. It resumes in seconds, showing the face of the Phantom has been blown off neatly, leaving only a corpse behind.
"As for why you, well, it is a simple case of psychological warfare. The four of you have already volus gasp engaged and defeated cerberus on some level. Thatvolus gasp you are still alive is proof that the organization is not what it once was. Your continued efforts against whatever remains of cerberus would be anywhere from volus gaspannoying to disheartening to any who are a part of the organization."
Dern looks pensive as his large eyes slowly blink from the bottom. "You speak of ships and expenses, but does this work pay a salary?" he asks, ever practical. "And under whose authority will we be working? Do we have legal recourse to gather information or make requests?"
"We really do not know what Cereburs volus gasp has in their safe-rooms and bolt holes. As benign as volus gasp your discovery was, it still shows that the one on your planet was used not just for storage, but volus gaspsurvival at one point in time. That indicates numerous agents provacateur who may or may not know that their organization is dead. volus gasp Here. Take a look at this Alliance video of a volus gasp Cerberus Phantom under...questioning."
Grace watches the video with an odd, dead-eyed look, then shuts off her omni-tool. She pauses for a few moments before turning to her three traveling companions and speaking. Her usual warmth and cheer has returned to her expression, but there's a serious note to her voice.
"I... I think we should all join this A-team they're trying to make out of us. Not for the money or anything... we lost too many people in the war, and we have an obligation to keep more people from dying or getting hurt."
She pauses again, shrugs, flashes a grin and a thumbs-up, and turns back to Barla Von.
"I mean, this Shadow Broker must have picked us for some reason other than that we didn't die when we found a big pile of old Cerberus ration packs, right?"
Dern looks pensive as his large eyes slowly blink from the bottom. "You speak of ships and expenses, but does this work pay a salary?" he asks, ever practical. "And under whose authority will we be working? Do we have legal recourse to gather information or make requests?"
"Most certainly. You be will be paid as volus gasp The C-Def agents you appear to be- a relay inspection team consisting of a pair of officers, a specialist and a sargent would not arouse too much suspicion. You would also split any salvage that you find thatvolus gasp is deemed non-critical."
"We really do not know what Cereburs volus gasp has in their safe-rooms and bolt holes. As benign as volus gasp your discovery was, it still shows that the one on your planet was used not just for storage, but volus gaspsurvival at one point in time. That indicates numerous agents provacateur who may or may not know that their organization is dead. volus gasp Here. Take a look at this Alliance video of a volus gasp Cerberus Phantom under...questioning."
Grace watches the video with an odd, dead-eyed look, then shuts off her omni-tool. She pauses for a few moments before turning to her three traveling companions and speaking. Her usual warmth and cheer has returned to her expression, but there's a serious note to her voice.
"I... I think we should all join this A-team they're trying to make out of us. Not for the money or anything... we lost too many people in the war, and we have an obligation to keep more people from dying or getting hurt."
She pauses again, shrugs, flashes a grin and a thumbs-up, and turns back to Barla Von.
"I mean, this Shadow Broker must have picked us for some reason other than that we didn't die when we found a big pile of old Cerberus ration packs, right?"
Barla Von shakes up some type of mixed beverage in an agitator-a comical scene- and pours it for Grace to enjoy. "Indeed. This volus gasp is not intended to be an opportunity to get your toes wet."
Hestia narrows her eyes at their host. "So you got this cleared with my Alliance CO, I take it?"
"volus gasp Indeed. You are to be..."
Barla pauses as he checks his omni-tool.
"taking advantage of an Alliance/Citadel joint venture under the Shepard Initiative, where volus gasp young Alliance kids get to intern under C-Sec or C-Def for a time. I guess that means you are volus gasp Officer Harper, nor Specialist or Sergeant."
You can't be sure, but you think he chuckles at that.
Uncertain whether she is being made fun of, Hestia responds with a generic, all-purpose teenage glare and a sullen silence, a tiny huff thrown in for seasoning.
Gir wasn't sure if he loved or hated the sound of this job. On the pro, working for a legendary name, like the Shadow Broker, an opportunity to settle a score with the remnants of Cerberus, "non-essential" salvage from their facilities being up for grabs, and a (supposedly) competent crew. On the con, working for a complete unknown, like the Shadow Broker, and alongside Hestia, while going to potentially active Cerberus bases. Still, Grace was right, both for the things she did know about, and the things she didn't. Though he'd have to look up the term A-Team later.
"I'm in." Gir affected as much confidence as he could muster with so many unknowns still outstanding. Producing his omni-tool, he continued. "I assume the dossiers will be forthcoming? And... is there a particular, potential luck despot which our employer is concerned about?"
