2170
Mindoir
A bell, sharp and clear, rang loudly through the halls of the Theodore Roosevelt Jr. High School. A sound that had been engraven into the cultural memory of humanity long before they departed the cradle of their homeworld, and remain as popular with students today as it had the first time it had heralded the end of the school day.
The tumult and the cheers that followed in no way broke the same mold, as children of varying ages and descriptions poured out of their classrooms, disposed of their unneeded books and supplies with undignified haste, and exited the building in a tide of excitement. It was the first day of the week-long holiday to celebrate humanity's survival during the First Contact War, and the sacrifices of those that had made it possible, which meant that the vast majority of them were in paradise and headed for Heaven as they made their way home.
For a handful, though, these was little joy in today. Oh, they were glad to have a week off, of course they were. No teen in their right mind would regret that or wish it was otherwise, but those that had loved and lost during the war (or seen the effects of such on their family, despite not being old enough to remember themselves) had a weight that their classmates couldn't really understand.
Amongst that handful, and certainly the most famous of them (likely the most famous inhabitant of Mindoir itself, if one were inclined to be honest, was one Cassandra Morrigan Shepard. Who was currently trudging home with her thumbs through the straps of her backpack and a scowl on her lips
Twelve years had passed since the Battle of Shanxi. Twelve years of humanity and the rest of the galaxy eyeing each other with scant favor, deep suspicions, and cautious fascination. Twelve years of the T'Soni and Shepard families growing ever closer and spending increasing amounts of time together.
Twelve years of perpetually being in the spotlight and struggling to have a 'normal life'.
As Cassandra had gotten older, it had become more and more obvious that she was different from most other girls her age, most children her age in general for that matter. More mature, more poised, more graceful. More insightful as well, pulling knowledge seemingly from nowhere, just as she had discerned (somehow) and blithely revealed the details of Liara's parentage. Her kinesthesia and situational awareness were almost preternaturally high as well, though she occasionally exhibited an odd and unfortunate tendency to hyper-fixate on something or someone.
She also had a hell of a temper, one befitting both her mother and her hair color, something that had been displayed plenty of times in her youth when someone had a bad word to say about the T'sonis or, far more commonly given the circumstances, people trying to take advantage of fame her family had garnered.
Eventually, those very people had caused such harassment for her mother and herself that she had moved out to the quiet, sparsely populated farming colony of Mindoir to live with her paternal grandparents, while her mother returned to ship-board command duties. That had been hard on both of them, the separation, but even for a war hero, command experience and promotions or retirement with pension eventually became a choice that had to be made. In the end, though, despite the difficulties, it really was the best option. Hannah's career was important to her (and, quite frankly, to the Alliance as a whole), and it was far better for Cassandra to grow up away from all the newsies and the attention that she would have received in the Sol System. Oh, there would be plenty of attention on her on Mindoir, but most people living on the colonies wanted to get away from everything that came with living in mankind's cradle, and they weren't interested in being welcoming and helpful to snooping newsies either.
If there was anywhere that Cassandra Shepard could have some semblance of a normal childhood, it would doubtlessly be Mindoir.
So to Mindoir she had gone, and though it had been hard on everyone it had been the very best choice to make for everyone. Yet, for all the benefits it provided to everyone involved, it was hard for her. Oh, her grandparents adored her, doting on her without spoiling her, she got to talk to her mom pretty often, and (though she would never, ever admit it out loud for fear of sounding like an egotistical bitch) the popularity that came with being who she was felt pretty nice too.
Usually.
There were always the slimy people who only wanted to use her, somehow and in some way, but she knew how to keep them from getting their claws into her.
The problem was, there were only a handful of people between the two extremes. Only the slimmest handful of people between Worship and Manipulation, between Awe and Greed, and none of them were her own age. It was…isolating, in a lot of ways. Difficult to deal with, but deal with it is exactly what she did. She shunned the people who wanted to manipulate her, limited her own exposure to the people that couldn't truly see her, and spent as much time as possible talking to Liara.
Her countenance brightened, a smile creasing her lips at the thought of her oldest and most precious friend. The days of them being able to spend every waking moment of every day were more than a decade in the past, their own disparate educational and developmental needs making it impossible, but it had quickly (though not easily, at first) been replaced with other forms of contact. Emails, first, then audio calls, and now they had a video call with each other every day. They caught up, spoke about what happened that day, talked about what tomorrow would bring. Shared their feelings, their hopes and fears and excitements with one another, doing all that was possible and more to keep the connection between them from fading to something so paltry as time and space.
The last time they had talked, Liara had said something about a surprise, but wouldn't elaborate any further on the subject, no matter how cajoling or cunning she had tried to be. It invoked strange but exciting feelings for the human teen, if she was going to be honest. She and Liara had never denied each other anything, they had never had secrets from one another, so on the one hand it was somewhat distressing that Liara was keeping one now. On the other hand, she was discovering that the anticipation and the mystery of whatever the asari had planned was really rather enjoyable.
New and different things. She mused to herself as her trudge became more of an upbeat stroll, boots tapping softly on the concrete as she increased her pace. She wasn't normally in a rush to get home, especially not to be with her dead dad's parents on the first day of the holiday memorializing his death and those of everyone who fought beside him. The house would be pretty dour for the next couple of days, no matter how much of a front they tried to put on for her. Despite that fact, however, she was eager today. Eager to find out just what her blueberry best friend was up to.
"Nana, Grampa, I'm home!" she called (never bellow, ladies didn't bellow unless they were in uniform, Nana always said) as she unlaced her boots and put them on the mud-room shelf a half-hour later. Wiggling her toes and reveling in the delight of finally being able to let her feet breathe a little, she padded towards the kitchen, dropping her bag on the table as she went. A smile creased her lips, small but warm and genuine, at the small plate of snacks and the tall glass of lemonade that was waiting for her there. The same snacks and the same lemonade that her grandmother always had waiting for her at the end of a school day.
"We're in the dinning room, little spark!" her grandmother called back in response, and Cassie didn't try to restrain the fond eyeroll at the childhood nickname, one that her grandmother had decided on the first time Cassie had clambered into her lap and thrust a drawing of a phoenix surrounded by multi-colored fire (or, at least, that was what the picture was supposed to represent) into her face.
She hadn't stopped using it since, no matter how much angsty teenaged Cassandra had begged her to.
Probably because she was wise enough to recognize that Cassandra was whining for the sake of whining and that it was thoroughly performative. Not that she was likely to ever admit it.
Sticking a sizeable handful of chips in her mouth before picking up the glass in her right hand and deftly balancing the plate on top of it, she flicked on her omni-tool as she made her way into the dining room, her attention on the projections as she looked for whatever messages she might have received during her walk home.
"Thanks for the snack, Nana. I'm starving." She mumbled through her mouthful of food, sliding the plate off of the glass and onto the table with the ease of long practice, before sitting down with her eyes still locked on her 'tool. A small frown creased her lips, more of a pout than anything else, and she huffed discontentedly and slouched a bit in her seat.
"Problem, sweetheart?" her grandfather asked from further down the table, sounding thoroughly amused about something, and she huffed again, louder than before.
"Lia normally sends me a message during my walk home, telling me what time she'll call me, but she hasn't sent it yet." She grumbled, pouting harder at the soft laughter that emanated from her grandparents in response.
"Well, young miss T'soni is usually a very reliable sort. I can only imagine that she hasn't messaged you or called you because she has something else planned. She is a clever one, after all. Takes after her mothers, in more than one way."
"Lia's the greatest, Grampa, obviously, but that doesn't explain why she hasn't messaged me yet." Cassie rolled her eyes as respectfully as possible, before frowning as sudden worry struck her. "You don't think something happened to her or her moms, do you? You don't think they're hurt or something?"
"No, dear, I don't think that the T'soni family has suffered some sort of tragedy. They're much to observant and aware of their surroundings to suffer some sort of accident so easily." Her grandmother answered dryly, a hint of teasing in her voice. "You might try pulling your nose out of that 'tool on occasion and see what happens. It might be eye-catching, surprising even."
"Nana, I was just gonna see…" Cassandra started to protest, feeling a bit guilty for having not even looked at her grandparents since she had walked into the house, as her eyes rose towards their end of the table. She froze, green orbs widening as she beheld the highly-amused forms of not two people, but three, sitting together and watching her. Two of which, obviously, being the beloved, elderly visages of her grandparents. The last of which being a certain beautiful young asari maiden, who's lovely grey eyes were gleaming with delight as she visibly muffled giggles in her hand.
"Hello, Cassie. Terribly sorry for not sending you a message as usual today. Will a hug make up for it?" Liara T'soni asked (snickered, really) after a moment of eye contact, sliding from her seat and holding her arms open in invitation. Her response was a squeal of delight and a gasp on her part, as a delighted Cassandra picked her up in a tight hug and spun her around.
The human couldn't be happier, all the sadness and weight of this week washed away in the face of a single girl's smile. Whatever else happened, this was going to be her best vacation ever!
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Soldier. Hero. Icon. Example.
Failure. Coward. Disgrace. Warning.
Elanos Haliat had been many things in his life, a life with a clear demarcation between the positive and the negative. A demarcation placed solidly, clearly, and blatantly within a series of moments in time. One small series of events that had brought a lauded military career twenty years in the making collapsing in fire and ash in a matter of days.
Shanxi.
Even now the name of that wretched world, that 'colony' by the infestation that called itself 'humanity', caused him to grit his teeth and grind his mandibles. That this wretched race had not only dared to resist the Hierarchy's efforts to correct their sins and put them in a position of properly pliant guidance was bad enough, but for them to shame their betters the way that they had…it was an outrage. He had raised hell over the peace treaty, over the betrayals by the rest of the Citadel of their long-time protecters, over the allowances and compromises that the galaxy was willing to offer one upstart race that had barely grasped that their planet wasn't flat when the Turians had joined the Council!
And instead of being praised for his patriotism, instead of having his warnings and his advice and his knowledge heeded and respected, he had been silenced. Sanctioned by his superiors, time and time again. Stripped of his commands, his rightful positions, his honor and respect and the subordinates he commanded. Summarily drummed out of the service, a service that he had spent his entire life doing to the very best of his ability to serve and protect the whole of the galaxy, when he had refused to still his tongue at the behest of those bought and paid for by that whore T'soni!
They had claimed that he was threatening the peace, that he was trying to agitate war! Endanger the people of the Citadel Systems in pursuit of his own personal pride and hunger for glory and revenge! Fools! Blind, arrogant, naïve fools!
So what if he wanted that red-haired bitch to burn? So what if he wanted to watch her ship shatter, her crew burn and scream and beg for their god to save them, when it had been she who had humiliated him, when it had been her cowardly tactics that had whittled away at his squadron until, when he had finally had her cornered, she had fled to the protective embrace of a battle-fleet instead of dying where she stood!
Oh, if there was one person in this galaxy that he hated more than the Honored Matriarch Benezia fucking T'soni, it was Hannah Shepard. If it hadn't been for her, he would never fallen so low as he had now, never would have lost everything that he had spent his entire life working towards, every waking moment of every single day. He wanted her dead, preferably at his own talons, but that wasn't enough. Not anymore. No, he wanted her to suffer. He wanted to give her the most indescribable agonies, body and soul alike, that he could possibly conceive of, before he finally tore the life from her.
He had spent years failing to achieve his revenge, despite spending no small amount of credits on assassins and mercenaries and assorted scum, but he wasn't going to fail any longer. No, he now had an ally in his goals, an ally of surpassing power and influence. One that was more than capable of arranging anything he asked in exchange for every scrap of information he had on the galaxy at large, but humanity in particular. A friend with eyes everywhere and fingers in everything.
The Shadow Broker.
"I have confirmation from my agents that your target is present on the human colony of Mindoir, living there with her paternal grandsires. Nor are they alone. Liara T'soni is present as well, visiting, and expected to remain there for some weeks yet." The faceless, distant being of indeterminate race, age, and sex informed him through his omni-tool, and Haliat's eyes widened before narrowing with something akin to a sadistic sort of glee. He may not hate T'soni as much as he did Shepard, but getting his talons on both of their daughters at the same time? He was truly being blessed by the Spirits today! "I assume you wish for things to be set into motion?"
"Oh yes, yes I would like things to be set into motion. I'll board the next shuttle for Anhur to retrieve them when they arrive. You're sure they'll get lost in the crowd? I don't want anyone tracking me down before I'm done. And I don't want anyone killing them or taking them somewhere else, either." Haliat responded promptly, eagerly, and there was a deep, grating noise that he guessed was a distorted hum. Even as the conversation continued, he started throwing what few belongings he had into a bag, eager to head for the spaceport.
"Humans are rare, obviously, basically non-existent off of the Citadel and certain other planets. It's one reason it will be so easy to persuade the chaff to take part in the attack. I have no doubt that it will quickly become apparent that they went missing during the attack, even that they were taken to Anhur, but I think the likelihood of Citadel Intelligence tracing them to you before you finish is rather small." The Shadow Broker mused thoughtfully, before speaking it what could only be called a reassuring tone of voice. "As for making sure you get your hands on the targets, I have someone on-planet in close proximity. They will keep me appraised on the location and status of the children and direct a team of my own agents, embedded in the raid, to the proper location to retrieve them."
"Efficient as always. The influence of the Shadow Broker truly is second to none." Haliat said appreciatively, even as he shook his head in amazement. He knew his ally had a long reach and deep pockets, everyone in the galaxy knew that, but the fact that he had an agent of some sort on a human colony (possibly multiple human colonies) was nothing short of astonishing. It was still nearly impossible to roam human space, despite the so-called 'First Contact War' having ended over a decade before, with only a handful of heavily guarded entries to the core of Alliance territory and strict quarantine measures for cargo and visitors alike. "And you're sure your agents involved in securing the targets will succeed? If they try and fail, they'll disappear and I'll never get another chance at settling my scores."
"You don't need to worry about that. The asset in charge of the team doesn't fail missions. They'll get the job done. Just make sure you're on Anhur to take delivery, and remember our deal." The Shadow Broker dismissed his concern instantly, and the turian could practically picture the being (whomever and whatever it actually was) waving one hand in a shooing-away gesture. On anyone else, the offhand dismissal of his concerns might have pissed him off, but from this individual it was reassuring.
"You don't need to worry about that. I get my revenge, and my entire organization is yours until the stars burn out. You call the shots, we'll pull the trigger, you've got my guarantee." Haliat assured them just as quickly, meaning every word. He didn't give a damn what the Broker required from him as long as he ended up getting what he wanted first.
"Good. Keep that promise, and you'll have everything that you've ever wanted and more. Shadow Broker Out."
The call disconnected, leaving a gleeful Elanos Haliat to quickly finish packing and leave the run-down hotel room he had been residing at for the past few days. He wouldn't be remembered by the staff there, such as it was, far too used were they to guests coming and going without making any sort of mark on their memories. As for the other guests, most of them, well they had their own reasons to be oblivious to the happenings around them, even as they tried to avoid notice for themselves.
An hour later, he was aboard a transport, headed for the 'industrial world' of Anhur. Heading for his future, his vindication, and his revenge.
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"Are you insane? You want me to attack a human colony and kidnap Shepard's and T'soni's kids?" Tela Vasir, Senior Agent of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel Council, stared in abject disbelief at the vaguel-person-shaped static outline projecting from her omni-tool. "Do you have any idea what the Council will do to me if they find out? Goddess, do you have any idea what Benezia will do to me? It doesn't matter what you get for a ransom, you're going to have half the galaxy out for your blood! They can't afford not to!"
"Calm yourself, Tela, calm yourself. The situation is not nearly so dire as you believe." The Shadow Broker, her occasional-partner and frequent leash-holder, responded with a tone that she was quite sure qualified as amusement. Not something that was likely to improve her mood all that much or convince her he knew what he was doing. "I have people in place on Anhur to rescue the girls from their evil piratical captors. Turians, members of the fleet that saw battle at Shanxi and were forced to resign in disgrace. They'll get the girls off-world."
"And in returning them to their parents, become heroes, smoothing over a lot of the sour feelings between humanity and the Hierarchy and doubtlessly reclaiming their positions amongst the legions with honor and rich rewards." Tela concluded, though she narrowed her eyes slightly in thought. It seemed so altruistic, for all of the manipulations involved in the situation. The Shadow Broker never did anything without it being of some benefit to him. She had learned that quickly enough, given the prices that she had been forced to pay time and again to avert the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocents over her decades of service. "What's in it for you, Broker? And what's in it for me?"
"A grateful and mollified humanity, and a humanity that doesn't think the Hierarchy is about to try and invade or genophage them, is a humanity whose territories I can expand my business and influence into." The Broker responded evenly, and Tela had to admit that it was a damn good point for them to make. "As for you, well, consider your involvement in this operation payment for a half-dozen requests you make of me of your choice, regardless of scope. And I shall keep your name out of things, of course. You'll just have been another Asari mercenary, one amongst dozens."
They had her, and they knew they had her. A half-dozen blank checks to the Shadow Broker's assistance, and a guarantee that she would remain wholly unidentified and unconnected to this whole situation? That was the kind of offer that would allow her to change the fate of star systems, all for the paltry price of helping kidnap and ransom two kids for the sake of shifting the political atmosphere. She would be derelict in her duty if she didn't take that offer.
"We have a deal, Broker, but you'd better keep your word." She voiced her thoughts aloud, voice cold, and there was an amused grunt of acknowledgement from her sometime-ally.
"Don't worry Vasir, I always keep my word. Deliver those girls to the turians, and you'll get your information delivered at your request." They responded, before the call terminated, leaving her scowling down at her omni-tool. She just knew this wasn't going to go as smoothly as the Broker had said it would, but she couldn't do anything but carry out the mission. Just one more stain on her hands, though this one would be fainter than most. At least she wasn't murdering someone to purchase the information.
Just traumatizing a pair of children, likely for life, and causing severe emotional harm to one of the Matriarchs that she considered to be the absolute pinnacle of what it meant to be an Asari and serve the galaxy. And maybe pointing the thoroughly humorless, trigger-happy, and paranoid Alliance Armed Forces at the galaxy again.
Her mouth twisted in wry and bitter amusement.
One more sin amongst a multitude, one more regret upon a mountain of them, but she wouldn't allow that to stymie her, prevent her from taking the actions that she knew were required of her. It didn't matter how stained her hands, how blackened her soul, how hated her name became if it meant that she could save more lives. If she could preserve the fragile peace and joy and life that this galaxy yet clung to.
A ping from her omni-tool had her looking down at it again, and she raised her eyebrow as a sizeable and heavily encrypted file came through. That would be her marching orders, then, and the information she needed to carry them out. Probably some manner of proof for their agreement as well, though the Broker had never tried to cheat her in the past and wasn't likely to start now. There was too much of a benefit for their mutual assistance to one another for him to ruin it, not to mention that he was smart enough to know she had contingencies in place to ruin his life and organization as thoroughly as she possibly could if something ever happened to her.
Some people would have been concerned about the security breach of having such information sent to them directly, but between her own abilities and resources, and those of the Shadow Broker, someone gaining access to her omni-tool was unlikely at best, and breaking into the files the Broker sent bordering on the impossible. Not that anyone would be crazy enough to try. She was a SPECTRE after all, and a highly experienced veteran at that. Getting on her shitlist wasn't exactly high on most people's list of priorities. Not if they wanted to keep breathing much past the time they pissed her off, anyway.
Looking through the files, she gnawed gently on a thumbnail as she considered the plan, or at least her part in it. She was going to have to move quickly if she wanted to have enough time to drop her SPECTRE-grade equipment at one of her safehouses and find some appropriately-ratty but still functional equipment to replace it with, armor especially. The last set she had used to do the 'undercover-as-a-merc' bit hadn't survived the experience. She had a set of high-grade weapons that looked like shit, of course. She could afford to take it easy with the armor, given the strength of her biotics and her extensive experience, but she wasn't willing to skimp in the same way when it came to her guns. Goddess, she was going to have to have a whole lot of makeup get done as well, wasn't she? She hated covering up her markings, it took forever and it felt like hiding part of her identity every time she did it.
Swiping the files away, she brought up the local transportation service reservation portal. She had a lot of preparation to do in a very short timeframe, not to mention all of the dead-drops she was going to have to arrange for while she was under comms blackout to keep her SPECTRE tasks going smoothly.
Unbidden, the lyrics to a human song (one of the many that had started to take the Citadel, especially the Asari, by a storm) came to mind, and she indulged in a habit she rarely got to enjoy any longer.
"Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked…" she started to sing softly, a small smile creasing her lips.