/* Big Country "Far From Me to You" _Why the Long Face?_ (1995) */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES EXILE STAR-CROSSED Part VI: The Moral High Ground Benjamin D. Hutchins (c) 2010 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited SUNDAY, JULY 29, 2356 BLUE SUNS HEADQUARTERS ZORYA, ISMAR SECTOR_ Vido Santiago was not a happy man. He rarely was, and usually then only when indulging one of his many vices, but today he was especially not in a good mood. Not only had one of his most important facilities recently burned down for no apparent reason, but also the mission that had launched from it just before had degenerated into a complete and dismal fiasco - the second such fiasco to unfold on that Godforsaken ring. "Goddammit!" he yelled, hurling his coffee cup at the bearer of the latest bad news. Relkan ducked, as he always did when Vido threw something at him, which was fairly often. Having survived 15 years as Vido's boss (for tax purposes) and chief minion (for practical ones), the batarian mercenary knew that at moments like this it was best to just let the man vent. "How the sprock could this happen twice?" Vido demanded. "Can you tell me that, Relkan? Huh? How does a bunch of -dirt farmers- just flip off the Blue Suns -twice?- Where the fuck did they get something that could take out a Saladin?" "By a strange coincidence, I got someone in Comm 1 might be able to shed some light on that for you," Relkan replied calmly. "Well, why the fuck didn't you say so?" Vido demanded. He got up and stormed into the comm center, where he stood fuming while the holo-array powered up. Not for the first time, he reflected that it would've been just as well if he'd provided his contact on Resource Delta with only the means for voice communication. He was getting tired of looking at the guy's shifty, sweaty face. It hadn't been decorative to begin with, and now it was downright repellent. "Vido. I, I can't talk long. I think the old salarian's getting suspicious. But I got something for you." Vido folded his arms. "I'm listening." Delta looked furtively around, then said, "I know what Chen and his buddies used to take out your tank." "Well, don't keep me in suspense," said Vido mock-sweetly. "You're the one's in such a goddamn hurry." "Okay. Okay, okay." Delta raked his hands through his lank, sweaty hair, trying to get a grip on himself. "They got two Cyclones. Harris brought one with him, and Millandra had an old Bartley that didn't work, she gave it to that quarian chick and she fixed it up." "You're -not- tryin' to tell me they took out a Saladin with one of those weenie rocket launchers," said Vido skeptically. "Pull the other one." "No! No, listen, lemme finish. The Bartley. It's got the mount for one of those, but the launcher's missing. They used the hardpoint for something else. I saw it when they came back to town. It's one of those bigass Salusian lasers, the ones their super-soldiers used in the Covenant War." Vido gave him an incredulous look. "A SPARTAN Laser? Where the fuck did they get one of those?" "Harris brought it with him. I saw the case when he and Doc Solus brought it back from the wreck of his ship." Delta shook his head. "Didn't know what was in it, but it had to be that. They stuck it on that Bartley and then Harris led your guys up a box canyon... " "Jesus H. -Fuck,-" said Vido disgustedly. "If Brejik wasn't dead I'd kill the dumb shit myself. I might have to go out and kill somebody who looks a little like him just to calm down." He rubbed his forehead. "Is that all?" "Yeah, for now. What're you - what're you gonna do now?" "If I knew that, I wouldn't fuckin' tell -you,-" Vido snarled. "Now get off the com, but keep this freq open. I may need you to do somethin' for me later." "But - " Delta began, but Vido switched him off and stalked out of the holo room. "Relkan," he snapped as the batarian fell into step alongside him. "Didn't I see something about a SPARTAN Laser on the black market a while ago?" "Yeah. Five, six months back. The Dragons had one in that big auction on Omega." "Find out who bought it. And what he was flying when he left. I think we just got a line on this guy Harris that's been fucking us on Delta." Vido gave his batarian subordinate a dark glower. "And it's about time we did something about him." MONDAY, JULY 30, 2356 GOODYEAR_ Mordin Solus was not surprised to see Tali arrive alone at his clinic early in the afternoon following the big party. If anything, he was surprised that she hadn't paid this visit sooner. "Tali'Shukra," he said, nodding cordially. "Didn't get a chance to compliment you last night. Had no idea you were such an adept dancer. Nor that you owned such a pretty dress." He held up a hand. "Should point out that comments have no ulterior motive. Avoid potential misunderstanding. Salarian mating drives don't work that way. Merely noting aesthetic agreeability." Satisfied that he'd cleared that up, he steepled his mechanical fingers and went on, "Now. How can I help?" Tali hesitated, still working through everything he'd just rattled off in that particular machinegun speech, then replied, "I'm not completely sure. I have a... problem. I guess you could say it's medical, though it isn't really. But it's... related... and you're the closest thing I have to a doctor, so... " Mordin smiled. "Ah. Of course." He gestured her around the counter into the lab and touched a couple of controls on the lab bench, rezzing up an audio privacy field around the consulting area. "Suspect I know what's on your mind, have been thinking about possible solutions for some time. Might have an answer for you." Before she could say anything, he put up his forestalling hand again. "Be aware, though. Not many -simple- answers. Not in biochemistry. Need to have in-depth conversation, understand risks, consider options. Not something to rush into. Literally a life-altering decision." "Well... let's get started, then," Tali said. "Because after what happened yesterday, I don't think I've got a lot of time." BLUE SUNS HEADQUARTERS ZORYA_ Relkan entered Vido's office with a datapad in his hand and a look of pure glee on his face. "You're gonna love this shit," he said. Vido gave the batarian a puzzled look. "That's not somethin' I hear you say often," he said. "I don't usually have news like this for you," Relkan replied. "I checked with our office on Omega. Tarak didn't want to share - he's pissed off about something, I don't really give a shit what - but I eventually pried it out of him who bought that SPARTAN Laser off the Dragons in January. This is big, Vido. Bigger than we thought, maybe even bigger than Resource Delta." "Jesus, spit it -out,- four-eyes. You can be replaced." "Lemme have my moment of drama, for fuck's sake," Relkan grumbled. "The guy that bought the laser left Omega in an ExoSal Ranger. The same kind of ship Brejik's boys reported finding wrecked on Delta the day after the auction. He got bounced by some of the local mercs on his way out of the Omega debris field and they say his ride got shot up pretty good before he bolted to hyperspace." "And you think he got from Omega to Delta -that- quick?" "They didn't get a trace on his outbound vector, but if he had motivator damage it might not matter. Weird shit happens when you take a busted hyperdrive past the light barrier, you know that. Anyway, listen, I got more. That same guy? He bought something -else- at the auction. Right at the end. The Dragons caught somebody snooping around in the cargo area during the show and their boss decided it'd be cute to put her on the block, last thing. A -quarian- somebody. Nice little item, they tell me - you know, as far as you can tell with those people. The guy that bought the SPARTAN Laser bought her too." Relkan grinned. "Outbid my cousin Kraad for her, didn't half piss him off in the process, so I gotta say I kinda like the guy, even if he has been fuckin' us up on Delta for the past three months." Vido put his face in his hands, rubbed vigorously, and then looked through his fingers at his entirely too gleeful batarian colleague. "Were you gonna get around to tellin' me who the fuck this guy -is- at some point?" "That's the easy part. He was invited to the auction and they verified his ID when he paid." Relkan tossed the datapad onto Vido's desk. "The guy the yokels on Delta know as Dan Harris?" The batarian's grin threatened to break his face clean in half. "He's the Butcher of fucking Musashi." "What? Lemme see that." Vido picked up the datapad and thumbed through the top couple pages of information. "You're -shittin'- me. Why is the Butcher of Musashi helping a bunch of halfwit goddamn dirt farmers piss around with us?" Relkan shrugged. "You're obviously confusing me with somebody who cares, two-eyes," he replied. "His ship's junk, he's stranded there. Maybe he just figures if he doesn't pitch in, they'll kill him. There's 200-some of 'em. Even he probably can't take 'em all alone." "Shit." Vido shook his head and repeated it with more amazement. "-Shit.- I wonder if they know who he is." "Doubt it. They may be dumb dirt farmers, but they're solid citizen types. Not the type to hide the galaxy's most wanted criminal." Vido snorted. "Beautiful. So what you're tellin' me is, I -can't- just send Kronfeld to glass the friggin' place and be done with it." "Sure you can." Relkan shrugged. "As long as you don't mind throwing away a hundred million credits, the gratitude of the whole Corporate Sector, and the best PR opportunity the Blue Suns have ever had just to get your rocks off punishing some farmers." Vido gave Relkan a judicious look, then laughed. "You're right," he said. "Why do that when I can have it all? Get me a Red Team. Garvex. And put Kronfeld on standby. And set up a sked for our guy on Delta." Relkan's look of glee turned darker and meaner. "I know what you're thinkiiiing," he said in a sarcastically singsong voice, pointing at Vido. "And I like it a lot. You are a foul and despicable mandog, Vido Santiago." "Thank you," said Vido mock-cordially. "Coming from you I take that as the highest compliment. Now get your ass busy. You got your orders." "Yessir, Mr. Santiago, sir," Relkan replied with a brisk salute; then the batarian turned and left the office, trailing behind him a series of cheerful, hooting laughs. GOODYEAR_ The rolling door of the garage next to Spare 14 ground open to let in the afternoon sunlight. Gryphon switched on the overhead lamps to help it out a little, walked across the duracrete floor, and whipped the tarpaulin off the half-built spaceframe he and Tali had been tinkering with, off and on, since they'd salvaged the wreck of the Ranger. Grim-faced, almost scowling, he took the roll of drawings out of the half-finished cockpit and unrolled them on the workbench, weighted the corners with socket-wrench sockets, and took a mechanical pencil out of his jumpsuit sleeve pocket. That's where Tali found him two hours later, engaged in a process she could only think of as furious revision. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Getting off my ass," he replied. "It's time we had some spaceflight capability. The Blue Suns want to play? Maybe it's time we put the ball in -their- court." "This thing is never going to be capable of combat," she pointed out. "I know. But it can get me to something that is." He turned to her, his face dark and angry. "I got comfortable here. Stopped thinking like a wanted man. Or it would've occurred to me sooner - you want someone to stop chasing you, start chasing him. As far as I know, Vido Santiago's still the number-one guy in the Blue Suns, whatever it says on their tax forms. We'll see how frisky he feels with a Reflex missile up his ass." He smiled cruelly. Tali stepped slowly closer, reaching hesitantly but not touching him. "You're scaring me a little." Gryphon snorted. "Haven't you heard? I'm the vicious and inhuman Butcher of Musashi. I go where I like, I kill who I want. No one can touch me. I have no heart, no soul, and no pity for anyone." Tali seized him suddenly in a fierce embrace, holding on tight, burying her visor in his chest. "Stop it," she demanded. "-Stop it right now.-" Gryphon hesitated, then sighed, the anger and tension draining from his body. He put his arms around her, stroking her back gently, and said, "I'm sorry, Tali. I'm just... dammit, I liked it here." He managed to pack an infinity of regret into those five words, to encapsulate all the pain and disappointment that had ruled his life since the day in 2288 when it all suddenly stopped making sense. "It's not over yet," Tali insisted. Backing up a little, she looked up at him and went on, "And the idea of taking the fight to the Blue Suns isn't a bad one. But don't -talk- like that. Like you've got nothing to live for." She hugged him again, ducking her helmet under his chin, and said into his chest, "Whatever happens, you've got me." He smiled and rubbed her back a little longer, then stepped back, hands on her shoulders, and said, "Thanks." He kissed her forehead, then made a small sound of consternation and rubbed the mark off her visor with his sleeve. "Uh, sorry. And I'm sorry I scared you. I just... get a little on edge sometimes." He angled his chin toward the wreckage. "What do you say, should we buckle down and see if we can make something useful out of this stuff?" TUESDAY, JULY 31, 2356 OMEGA_ The Blue Suns had been established on Omega for the better part of twenty years by the last day of July, 2356. They controlled entire districts, had the lives of more than three hundred thousand sentients in a virtual stranglehold. No one, nothing, went anywhere in their particular districts of influence without the Suns knowing about it, signing off on it, taking their cut. They were the largest and most powerful of the many mercenary and criminal organizations on the station, large and powerful enough that their leadership had begun to entertain the notion of taking on Aria herself for ultimate control of the whole place. It took two hours for that entire power structure to be destroyed, and the ranks of the Blue Suns themselves all but wiped out... by a lone human woman. She started out asking questions down in the mercantile zone's bars and shops, then asked harder questions of the Suns the first people directed her to. Eventually she pushed a little too hard, somebody pushed back, and the shooting started. To everyone's surprise, it didn't end until two hours later, in the inner sanctum of Tarak, the boss of all the Blue Suns on Omega - and only then when the last of Tarak's bodyguards fell. Standing in the center of the room, indifferent to the carnage all around her, a gorgeous, tanned redhead in a silver foil crop top and hotpants calmly ejected the spent powerpacks from her twin E-Mag blasters and said, "If anyone would like me to dial 911, please raise your hand." Nobody took her up on it, although a moment later one of the bodies against the far wall did slide down and fall onto his face. The redhead holstered her left E-Mag, slotted a new powerpack into the right one, shot that guy again just for good measure, and then walked slowly toward Tarak. The batarian sat behind his desk, bug-eyed with a combination of awe and terror. "So," said Kei Morgan in a bored tone of voice. She fished in one of the pouches on her belt, came up with a foil-wrapped stick of I'm-trying-to-give-up-combat-stims gum, unwrapped it, popped it into her mouth, worked it a few times, then shunted it to her cheek and went on, "I'm gonna ask this one more time, and since you're the last Blue Sun left alive in this shithole, I'm hoping you'll be more cooperative than the other 1,336." She walked languidly around Tarak's desk, planted one of her booted feet in the crutch of the batarian's pants, leaned forward so that he got the full benefit of her uniform's decolletage, rested the muzzle of her E-Mag gently between his upper eyes, and asked pleasantly, "Where's Resource Delta?" Twenty minutes later, having learned what she wanted to know two hours and a good many photons later than she'd have preferred, Kei was on her way back to the docking ring. She rounded the last corner in the corridor leading to the Lovely Angel's airlock and found her path blocked by a single figure, who might have been blue but certainly wasn't a Blue Sun. "Did you have to make such a fucking mess?" asked Aria in a long-suffering sort of voice. "Bitch, bitch, bitch," Kei replied. "They were only plotting to kill you. You're welcome." "I'd have handled it," Aria said. "-Without- nearly drowning the Seventh District in blood." "Yeah, well, not like they were doing anything worthwhile with all that blood anyway. Besides, that's 'cause you've got time to be all elegant and shit. Me? Not so much." When Aria didn't move, Kei added in a conversational voice, "That's kind of your cue to get the fuck out of my way now." Aria gave her a hard look for a moment, then sidestepped so that Kei had to brush past her to reach the airlock, which Kei had no particular problem with doing. As she did, the asari smiled and ran a hand down Kei's arm. "I bet your DNA would randomize mine -really- interestingly," she said. "You ever think about crossing the Wallace Line, call me." Kei glanced at her, smirking slightly. "Sure, if you think you could keep up," she said, then keyed the airlock and went on her way. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 2356 ZELFINA STATION DEEP SPACE, DRIFTWARD EDGE OF THE TERMINUS SECTOR_ There were a thousand or more places like Zelfina Station in the galaxy: waystations along the major trade routes, equidistant from inhabited systems, which served the vital purpose of providing needed goods and services to space travelers on a tight budget, and did so largely by not jacking up their overhead with amenities of any kind. Ruthlessly utilitarian even by the standards of space habitats, they weren't actively grubby, they just lacked any sort of creature comfort whatsoever. Marked with giant holosigns announcing the availability of the Cosmic Trinity (fuel, food, repair services), they floated in the void in their own serene orbits around the Galactic Core, offering a place to dock, a steady supply of helium-3, and... not much else. Zelfina was one of the fancier ones. In addition to having a fairly extensive repair shop, it sold standardized space probes, proton and photon torpedoes, even personal equipment. Being situated between the Terminus and the Outer Rim, it saw a lot of bounty hunter traffic, and those guys could almost always be counted on to pick up at least some ammo, if not be in the mood to shop for new weapons and armor. It was also different in that it actually had a couple of places where a spacer could sit down and eat, as opposed to just getting the autogalley's protein slush replenished through an automatic pipeline. One of them, the nameless greasy spoon diner up on what was laughingly called the promenade deck, was actually one of the little-known gems of the cosmos, surprising and delighting the relatively few visitors to the station who ventured up there with its wide array of startlingly-well- modeled foodstuffs, including all the classic diner standards. Zaeed Massani sat in the corner booth, reading a newspaper he'd bought from the high-speed printer by the door on his way in, as he worked his way through a big slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie and a cup of coffee. He was dressed like a spacer, unobtrusive and generic, but he still stood out, simply because he looked like he'd recently gone four or five rounds with a heavyweight boxer whose gloves had been on fire. Bandages and strips of sticking plaster criscrossed his face and arms. As he read, he thumbed another capsule out of a bubble pack of Regenetrol and washed it down with a slug of coffee. Despite his injuries, a smile crept onto his face as, with his pie dealt with and half the coffee left to go, he worked his way down the front page of the Terminus Gazette. A moment later, Vision appeared on his wristcom, just in time to see him let out a short bark of laughter. "What's so funny?" she asked, puzzled. She'd never actually seen him laugh before. It was a little creepy. "Take a look at this," he said, plunking the paper down and raising his wrist so she could pick it up with the wristcom's camera. "Turns out this week wasn't a total loss after all. Somebody showed up on Omega yesterday and killed every Blue Sun in the place." Vision scanned the front page; most of the article was inside the paper, behind a jump, but she got the general idea from the lead and opening paragraphs. "Wow. There were a -lot- of Blue Suns on Omega. Who was it? Starfleet Marines? White Legion?" Zaeed picked up his paper, fluffed it out, and took another sip of coffee. "They don't know. Says here they think it was a bounty hunter." His smile broadening a little, he went on, "Whoever it was, they've made my goddam day." "-A- bounty hunter?" Vision asked. "You know any bounty hunters who could take out every Blue Sun on Omega in one day?" "Besides me, if I put my mind to it? Maybe Jango Fett, but why would he bother? Ironheart, maybe... nah." He shook his head. "Not her style. She's a surgeon. This thing sounds like it was a goddam bloodbath." He put the paper down. "What've you got?" "I just dove the Blue Suns master computer again. They're sending another team to Scandia. Looks like commandos this time." Zaeed looked interested. "Get any names?" "A few. None that mean anything to me. The team lead is someone named Garvex." Zaeed whistled. "Vido's really pissed off." "How do you figure?" "Garvex is a krogan battlemaster. Always travels with a crazy Minbari assassin, name of Varenn. Get the joke?" Zaeed's smile was humorless this time. "If Vido's sending those two, he's turned a corner. Now he just wants everyone dead." "Come on. Finish your coffee and let's get moving. Between that and the Omega thing, I've got a real bad feeling about this." Zaeed did finish his coffee, but when he put the mug down, he said, "I'm not going to be much good to you with no rifle and a big goddam hole in my armor. Gonna have to swing by Marcus's before we leave." "What do you think I've been doing while you've been drowning your sorrows in coffee and a delicious pastry?" Vision replied. "Your new gear will be in the docking bay before you are. Let's roll." The grizzled old merc got to his feet, picked up his blisterpack of regen stims, and flicked his credit chit past the table reader. "I hope you picked me out some pretty new armor," he said sardonically. "I think you'll like it," Vision replied. "Your eyebrows are growing back nicely," she added as he left the diner. "By the time we get there, nobody will even be able to tell that you almost blew yourself up." THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 2356 GOODYEAR_ "But you still don't know who it is," said Scott Chen. Mordin shook his head. "No. Transmissions too brief, masking protocol unexpectedly sophisticated. Between Sunday's traffic and this morning's, have narrowed it down to northeast corner of town. Radius of about 100 yards. Say two dozen houses." Tali rezzed up her omni-tool by way of illustration. "I captured his masking protocol during the last session. By the time he transmits again, I'll have finished a predictive algorithm to counter it. He won't get away from us again." "I still can't believe it," Chen said. "How could one of us be helping the Blue Suns? How'd they even make contact? Whoever it is can't have been under cover for the last -ten years-. We didn't even know we were coming here." "Probably during initial incursions last year," Mordin said. "Before Dan and Tali'Shukra arrived." "Still, it's hard to get my head around the idea that one of us could be helping them try to strongarm us out. I mean, whoever it is, this is his home too. Everybody voted to stay." "Whoever it is must have changed his mind," said Tali. "Anyway, I've got work to do, but my capture software is almost ready. I'll let you know when we intercept another transmission." "Yes. Things to do as well," said Mordin, rising. "Good day, Sheriff." "What's the matter, Mordin?" Tali asked as she and the doctor crossed the square toward the clinic. "You seem preoccupied. And I don't think it's just because of what we talked about the other day." Mordin shook his head. "No. Not that. Concerned about that, but your decision, not mine. No, worried about most recent results of soil adaptation assays." He waited to elaborate on that until they were back inside the clinic, away from the possibility of being overheard, then went on gravely, "Have strong suspicion, rapidly approaching certainty, that victory over Blue Suns, even if achieved, will be meaningless." Tali tilted her head. "What do you mean?" "Look," said Mordin, handing her a datapad. "I'm not a biologist," Tali said. "No, but can read a graph," Mordin replied, sounding dispirited. "Downward curve plots soil viability for levo-amino agriculture. Samples taken from randomly selected points throughout farm. Decline in viability steady across the board." He shook his head. "Adaptation only temporarily effective? Halo environment self-correcting? Can't tell. Doesn't matter. Losing ground, no pun intended. At current rate of decline, colony will drop below self-sufficiency threshold again in six months. Worse, possibility of dextro-amino flora being mistakenly harvested, used to feed colonists or livestock. Disaster." He took back the datapad, looked at the graph again as if hoping it would say something else, then put the pad down on the counter and gave Tali the most defeated look she'd ever seen on him. "You adapted the area once," Tali said. "Can't you do it again?" "Could try. Probably don't have time. Took years the first time. Stockpiles insufficient... no guarantee of success." Mordin sighed. "No, have to face facts. Great human scientist once said: 'The universe is under no obligation to match up with our expectations.' Data unpalatable, but cannot lie." The old salarian poked listlessly at the datapad, scrolling through some more of the unpalatable data, then crystallized his findings into a single, heavily spoken statement: "Goodyear Colony doomed, regardless of Blue Suns." "You're sure about this." "Absolutely." "Who else knows?" "No one. Only admitted it to myself this minute." "Double-check all your findings. Make sure your samples weren't contaminated. You've had all that food you've made for me in here. I know you're not a sloppy researcher," she added quickly, before he could take offense, "but mistakes happen. There's no sense upsetting the others unless you're as certain as certain can be. Right?" Mordin smiled wanly. "Yes. Of course. Quite right. Always verify findings. Will get right on that. Doubt I'm wrong, but... for once, hope so." He turned to enter his lab and set to work, then turned back. "Thank you, Tali'Shukra." He drew himself up and straightened his black-trimmed lab coat ostentatiously. "If nothing else, must face defeat like scientist." He brightened slightly. "Also, was so preoccupied, almost forgot - did finish what you asked for while waiting for assays to run." He went to the safe in the corner, keyed in the combination, and extracted a shiny metallic capsule about the size of a human pinky finger, then brought it across to her. Before handing it over, he held it up between them and said, "Must caution you once more, however. Experimental both biochemically and socioethically. Side effects in both areas may be... unpredictable. Possibly extreme." Then, smiling, he placed the vial gently in her open hand. "But, as human cosmeticians say, it's your genome." Tali stood regarding the silver capsule in silence for a full four minutes while Mordin busied himself resetting the assay systems and loading the soil collectors up to be autoclaved. Then she closed her hand around it and held her fist to her chest, head bowed, for another two. Then she turned to Mordin and said, "Let's do this." She arrived at the garage next to Spare 14 ten minutes later to find Gryphon welding part of the spaceframe for their "escape ship" together, pausing occasionally to refer to the big technical diagram tacked to the wall. The vehicle was really starting to take shape, in large part because he'd spent almost every waking moment, and a few of the sleeping ones, since their conversation out here on Monday working on it. Between the two of them, they'd pretty much finalized the design by Tuesday night. It was a simple craft as these things went, more reminiscent of a lifeboat than the starfighter it had once been. Essentially, it was a small reactor cannibalized from a household generator, the Ranger's No. 2 fusion turbine, a couple of seats, some avionics, a basic cabin life support plant, an inertial damper, and... well, not much else. It -had- to be this ruthlessly simple in order to keep the mass and volume down, because by the time they'd finished piecing together what was left of the hyperspace motivator, they had a drive core that could sustain useful supralight velocities within an envelope little larger than a big passenger car and up to a mass just a bit more than two tons. Tali had argued against the cabin life support system, insisting that Gryphon's CVR-3 and the CVR-class modifications she had made to her encounter suit so that she could use the Bartley would be sufficient as long as they had a decent gas exchange system aboard. She would have preferred to mount a deflector shield generator and maybe a couple of the Ranger's salvaged weapons. Gryphon wouldn't hear of taking her into space with nothing but vacuum outside her visor, though, pointing out that, CVR mods or not, her suit was still not properly space-rated - and anyway, the point he'd finally won the argument with, shields and weapons required too much reactor capacity. They'd have had to fit the Ranger's reactor then, which would have put them -way- over their mass budget. They'd disagreed, though not rancorously, over what to call it as well. Tali had caught a little bit of the aggression she'd chided him for and plumped for calling it the Retaliator. He'd pointed out that they weren't mounting any weapons, which might make a name like that constitute premature jocularity, and suggested Diogenes, after the ancient Greek cynic who wandered the world looking for an honest man, instead. Now he looked up from his welding, tipped his tinted mask up, and said, "Hey. How's Mordin's pulse beating?" "He's... not sure," Tali replied. "He thinks... you can't tell anyone about this until he's finished double-checking his findings. But he thinks Halo might be... resisting... the adaptations he made to get the farm working. And if that's true... " She trailed off, but he didn't need her to draw him a diagram. "If that's true, the colony can't stay here anyway." Tali nodded. "Shit." He turned, set the welding gun down on the bench, and switched off the welder, then stood still for a few seconds, drawn into himself in thought. Then, with a second, furious expletive, he kicked a piece of scrap armor, sending it clanging into the corner of the garage. "Why does everything I touch turn to shit?" he asked rhetorically. "This isn't -your- fault," Tali protested. "You didn't even know this place was here." "No, but now that I'm here, it's all falling apart." He sat down on the overturned bucket he used for a work seat. "This always happens, Tali. Always. I get comfortable somewhere, I start thinking maybe I can regroup and get a handle on things and start figuring out who I am and what I have to do to fix this, and it goes to hell. If it's not Kei tracking me down it's bounty hunters screwing up my life, or GENOM's goons or shitbags like the Blue Suns or... " He gestured vaguely in the direction of the farm. "... or the goddamn -ground,- apparently. I'm just sick of it. There's got to be someplace where a man can catch his breath." He sighed. "I just wish I could find it." Tali folded her arms and tilted her head. "Are you done?" she asked. He glanced up at her, then grinned and got to his feet. "Yeah, for now. Let's finish welding this and start wiring up the motivator harness." As the day's work went on, Gryphon half-consciously noted that Tali seemed to be dragging a bit. By nightfall she was visibly wilting, not at all the usual dynamic presence she was in the workshop; she'd stopped speaking except to offer the most basic acknowledgements and comments, and she didn't have her usual flair with the wrenches and torches. She still did the work and did it well, to a standard he couldn't possibly have dreamed of attaining at her age, but the spark seemed to have gone out of her. "Are you okay?" he asked after she dropped a tool. "Fine," she replied, but she didn't look at him. He bent down and retrieved the tool. "Tali. Seriously, are you all right? The last couple of hours it's been like watching a toy wind down." "I said I'm fine," she snapped. "Now give me that sprocking dynospanner and let me get this done." Gryphon gazed at her for a few moments, then handed over the tool and resumed his own tasks without another word. For another two hours, neither spoke more than the bare minimum necessary to get the work done. It wasn't until they'd knocked off for the night and were getting ready for bed that Tali broke her silence to say, "I'm sorry I yelled at you." "It's okay," Gryphon said. "Are you absolutely sure you're all right?" She rezzed up her omni-tool and consulted a couple of readings. "I'm running a moderate fever, my throat hurts and my head is pounding." She dismissed the tool. "It's nothing to worry about." "Since when is a fever nothing to worry about?" "I probably got a little sloppy changing one of the carts in my CO2 scrubber yesterday. It happens sometimes. If I was -sick- sick I'd feel a lot worse than this." She got into bed. "I'll be fine in the morning." "If you're not, I want you to go see Mordin," Gryphon said, climbing in beside her. "I will. But I won't need to. Don't worry so much." Tali turned and nestled into her usual place at his side. "I'm not made of glass, you know." FRIDAY, MAY 4, 2356 BLUE SUNS STARSHIP INCINERATOR AQUILA SYSTEM, ISMAR SECTOR_ "Okay. You sure you know what to do?" Vido asked with greater patience than most of his subordinates had ever seen. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it," the hologram of the Suns' agent on Delta replied. He scraped his hands back through his hair once more, nervously, and said, "You're sure you want me to play it like this. I mean, once I do this we're blown." "Once you do this it won't matter," Vido said. "Unless you'd rather I just sent my guys in first and kept your ten percent." "No! No, no, shit, if this is how you want it done I'll do it." Delta nodded vigorously. "I'll get it done." He squared himself up, raked back his hair yet again, and seemed to get a little taller. "I'll do it right now." Vido smiled. "Good boy. My team's already in the system. You get the colonists out of their way and they'll move in." "Right. Okay. Delta out." Vido waited until the image had completely derezzed, then turned to Relkan. "I can't believe that kid actually thinks I'm gonna give him ten mill for makin' my life harder." Relkan shrugged. "Hope springs eternal." He smirked. "As does greed." "Here's to greed," Vido replied, clinking his coffee mug against Relkan's can of beer. GOODYEAR_ Tali woke in some confusion from a dream in which she walked into the main room at Charley's in the middle of last weekend's victory party and took off her helmet. She was momentarily so disoriented she thought she might actually have done it, but a quick, instinctive check confirmed that her neck seals were still engaged and her helmet right where it belonged. A moment later she realized that the headache was gone and her throat was no longer sore. And a moment after -that- it dawned on her that the reason she'd awakened was because her omni-tool was sounding an alarm. "Hnh?" said Gryphon. "Your arm is ringing." "My omni-tool. It's... " Tali sat upright, hurling off the covers, and stabbed at the tool's virtual keys. "It's picked up another transmission from the Blue Suns agent. And this time it's broken his masking encryption." She sprang out of bed, grabbing her gun from the nightstand. "Come on!" Gryphon somehow managed to get out of bed, into jumpsuit and boots, and out the door at more or less the same time, though for the first couple of steps up the street in her wake, he was hopping on one foot while negotiating with the other boot. They went first to the clinic and, finding no one there, cut across to the security office. "Scott," Tali said as they entered. "I've got him. The Blue Suns mole is - " She skidded to a halt, both physical and verbal, as she realized that the person she was about to name was already in the room. " - Herrick Mitchell?!" She then realized that, aside from the oddly triumphant Mitchell and a grim-faced Scott Chen, the room also contained Mordin, three uniformed Militia officers with their weapons drawn, and a perfectly furious-looking Millandra Caspian... ... who, without any preamble or declaration at all, stepped past Tali and clobbered the completely unsuspecting Gryphon in the side of the head with the butt of the very same pistol she'd once threatened the young quarian with. "Ow?" he said from the floor. "That was, ow, there." Heedless of the Militia officers, Tali whipped her scattergun from her back and nearly jammed the muzzle into Millandra's face. "Drop that krif'tet gun or you'll be chasing your head into Detention B," she snarled. Instantly the officers - one of whom, Tali was vaguely annoyed to see, was Garrett Redding, and carrying the MA5B she'd given him, no less - raised their rifles to their shoulders and covered her. "Hold it, HOLD IT!" Chen bellowed, surprising everyone. "Millandra, goddammit, this is my station. You are -way- outta line. Tali, put that friggin' cannon away. The rest of you, stand down! We got enough problems without startin' firefights amongst ourselves." "I'm out of line? I'M out of line?!" Millandra blazed at him. "Yes!" Chen roared. "YOU, Madame Mayor, are OUT OF LINE. Now let's all calm down, unclench our sphincters, and give the man an opportunity to explain himself. Man's got a right to confront his accusers." Millandra glared at him, then slowly opened her hand and let the pistol fall to the floor. Tali continued to hold down on her for several seconds, until she'd backed away; then she stowed the Bryar and helped Gryphon to his feet. "You know something," he observed as he felt at the corner of his jaw, "I could swear I've been pistol-whipped by you before." "You bastard," Millandra replied venomously. "How long did you think you could get away with it?" He sighed. "I get asked that a lot. The answer's always the same: As long as my luck held, which usually isn't very long." He looked at Mitchell. "Who hooked you up? Vido?" "Hah. -I- hooked -him- up," Mitchell replied. "He had no idea you were here until I told him about your stunt with the SPARTAN Laser." Gryphon nodded. "I figured that might cause a problem. Still, when you're up against a tank and all you've got is a couple of Cyclones, your options are limited." Chen looked confused. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're acting like you already know what Herrick's accused you of." "Sure I know," said Gryphon. "You think I haven't had this day before? I've been living with this shit since before you were born. I get someplace where I think maybe I can catch my breath, I do some good, I help some people, and then some overzealous twat recognizes me and figures he'll be a Hero of the Galaxy." He shrugged. "It happens a lot. To be honest I'm getting pretty sick of it. Although at least this one told a cop instead of going for the gusto himself. That never ends well for -anybody.-" "So you -admit- you're the Butcher of Musashi," said Millandra. "No. I admit that I'm Ben Hutchins, and every idiot in the cosmos seems to -think- I'm the Butcher of Musashi," Gryphon corrected her. "But you want to know something -funny?- I'm -not.- The Butcher of Musashi and, more to the point, his -masters- are getting away with it every day while people like YOU hit me in the head and call me 'you bastard'." The topic seemed to spark him into a bit of a fury; turning to her, his face seeming to get red in direct proportion to how white hers was becoming, he went on, "And where do YOU get off claiming the moral high ground? YOU'RE a fucking TERRORIST!" At her shocked expression, he went on, "Still think everybody else was born yesterday, huh, Miranda? Yeah, I remember you. With that memory of yours, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, I mean, I'm the one who's not even wearing a disguise. It was me and Zoner who took out the Illusive Man, back in the day, if you'll recall." He eyed her up and down. "I have to say, apart from your memory you've held up well. Bet you even had to bleach your hair so people'd think you're old," he added with a sardonic smirk. "Okay, I'm completely lost now," said Chen. "Well, hell, Miranda, what do you think?" Gryphon asked. "Since we're putting it all on the table? Sheriff Chen, I'd like you to meet Miranda Lawson. Former cell leader in the Cerberus terror organization, human supremacist, actual as opposed to accused murderer, genetically engineered super-woman... " He winked at Miranda and made a clicking noise in the corner of his mouth. "... not quite perfect." Chen blinked. "Is that true?" Miranda sighed. "Yes," she said. "Well, mostly. I'm not a human supremacist. And Cerberus was -not- a terrorist organization," she added, glaring at Gryphon. "Oh, the hell it wasn't," Gryphon replied. "You assholes assassinated a Salusian admiral, experimented on children, tried to poison a whole goddamn turian colony... do I need to go on?" "I'm not going to stand here and take this from a man who slaughtered an entire first-grade class," Miranda spat. "No, you're not, because unlike everything I just said about Cerberus, -I- didn't -do- that," Gryphon shot back. "All RIGHT!" Chen barked. "Jesus Christ, you people. I had enough problems before finding out that my chief deputy is the most wanted man in the universe. Now, on top of that, I find out the mayor of my town used to be... whatever you were?" "Scott, have I ever done anything to make you believe I had anything other than this colony's best interests at heart? Even before we founded Goodyear I was on your side," Miranda said. "I really -was- a merchant captain. I'd left my Cerberus years far behind me. And when we crashed here, I was ready to make a go of it. I worked just as hard as anybody else to make this place what it is. Didn't I?" "Yeah. Yeah, you did, Mil - ... Miranda. But since he got here, so has Dan. Or whoever he is. He's had plenty of chances to do us wrong and he's done nothin' but help. Shit, he and Miss Tali have saved this damn town twice, and no thanks to you." He pushed his cap back and scratched his forehead. "Shit. You put me in a hell of a position here." "Uh... " Herrick Mitchell put in. "Does... anybody want to hear Vido's offer?" Gryphon snorted. "Let me guess. You turn me over to him and he leaves the colony alone." "-And- gives us 40 percent of the reward," said Herrick triumphantly. "Forty million credits. Think what that could do for this town, Mayor... uh... Lawson. You could get a hyperwave beacon, set up some trade routes, really make this place into something. Scientists all over the galaxy are going to want to come and study Halo, and we'd be in position to make it happen for them. We could be SOMEWHERE, instead of pretending it's the sprocking bronze age." "Are you an idiot?" Tali snapped. "You think the Blue Suns haven't thought of that themselves? That's why they've been trying to force you all -out- of here this whole time. So -they- can have the monopoly on Halo. Shall I tell you what this Vido will -really- do? He'll take Benjamin and sell him to GENOM, -keep- the hundred million for -himself-, and -glass- this place and everyone in it. He gets the money, he gets Halo (with one small burnt spot), no witnesses, no loose ends. That's the kind of man you think you've made a deal with." "That's a bright kid," said a gravelly voice from the doorway. "You ought to listen to her." Everyone turned to see a man nobody recognized, middle-aged, greying, and scarfaced, holding down on the whole room with a gleaming red Hyperion Sentinel battle rifle. He wore red-trimmed body armor of silver metal and black composite and had an air of supreme, deadly- confident calm as he took complete control of the situation without firing a shot. "Who the fuck are YOU?" Mitchell demanded. The man regarded him coolly with the eye not looking through the Sentinel's optical sight. "Someone who's forgotten more about Vido Santiago than you'll ever know," he replied. "Now shut up. The adults are talking." He glanced at Scott. "You the law here?" "Insofar as it goes. You've got me at a disadvantage, stranger. The name's Chen. Sheriff Scott Chen." "Zaeed Massani," the gunman replied. "We're all in a lot of trouble on this little ring, Sheriff, and we're not gonna get out of it by pointing our guns at each other instead of downrange. So what say we all calm down, put 'em away, and see what we can do to keep our balls out of the fire?" "That's what I've been trying to make happen for the last 20 minutes," Chen replied. "Guys. Stand DOWN. If this guy wanted us dead we'd -be- dead by now." Zaeed smiled slightly and gave the sheriff a courteous nod as the Militiamen slung their weapons. Then he stowed the Sentinel on his back and said, "Nice to deal with a reasonable man. Now listen. There's a Blue Suns dropship about ten minutes out. They're gonna land right at the end of your main street this time, no screwing around. There aren't many people aboard, but the ones they brought are serious heavy hitters, and they have one goal." He pointed at Gryphon. "Him. They'll kill anyone who gets in their way. Makes no difference to them, Vido intends for you all to be dead by this time tomorrow anyway. We're all gonna have to be on the same page if we want to get out of this alive." "Why should we believe you?" Mitchell burst out. "Vido and I have a deal - " Quicker than the eye could follow, Zaeed snapped his sidearm out of its holster and fired from the hip, gunslinger-style. Mitchell grabbed at his thigh and fell to the floor, so surprised he didn't even feel the pain at first. "Aagh!" he said. "You SHOT me!" "I told you to shut up and let the grown-ups talk," Zaeed growled. "I don't like to repeat myself." "He, uh, -does- raise a valid point," Gryphon put in. "I mean, granted Vido's a bastard and he's planning to double-cross everybody, but what makes you our guardian angel all of a sudden?" Zaeed holstered his sidearm and stepped further into the room. "I'm here, I'm armed, and I'm offering to help." He took a small circular device from a pocket on his belt and placed it on Chen's desk. "Under the circumstances, do you really need more?" Gryphon blinked as, now that Zaeed wasn't in the way, he saw what was standing out in the square. "Hey," he said. "That's my -Valkyrie-. How'd that get here?" "I flew it here," Zaeed said. "... Why?" "Because that's what I was hired to do." Zaeed switched on the device, which proved to be a miniature holojector, and a moment later a six-inch-high image of Vision appeared. "Hey, boss," she said cheerfully. "I just can't leave you alone, can I?" /* The Whitlams "You Sound Like Louis Burdett" _Eternal Nightcap_ (1997) */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presented UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES EXILE Star-Crossed Part VI: The Moral High Ground To be continued in Part VII: The Purest Form of Democracy E P U (colour) 2010