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The Translation in Blood
By : Mayamahal
Category: +M through R > Mass Effect
Views: 19003 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Bioware or ANYTHING in the Mass Effect universe, including the characters therein. I make no money on this story. -
Chapter List
- 1-The Translation in Blood
- 2-Chapter Two
- 3-Chapter Three
- 4-Chapter Four
- 5-Chapter Five
- 6-Chapter Six
- 7-Chapter Seven
- 8-Chapter Eight
- 9-Chapter Nine
- 10-Chapter Ten
- 11-Chapter Eleven
- 12-Chapter Twelve
- 13-Chapter Thirteen
- 14-Chapter Fourteen
- 15-Chapter Fifteen
- 16-Chapter Sixteen
- 17-Chapter Seventeen
- 18-Chapter Eighteen
- 19-Chapter Nineteen
- 20-Chapter Twenty
- 21-Epilogue
"I told you not to look into it."
"Mom-" "Look, I know what's going on. Will you just be thankful it's happening and stop questioning everything?" Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, an echo of her mother's very expression clear across space and into another system. She even caught her hiding it through vid-com. It was hard not to smile at it. The war could tear apart the galaxy, but mothers and daughters would still have their moments. Cortez had pointed out what he had thought was a glitch in the procurement database; hundreds of items were loading up through the Normandy's interface at half of what they were going for directly in the stores, in particular the stores based on the Citadel. Shepard had spent the last three hours trying to figure out if it was the symptom of a greater problem (an undetected virus affecting ship computers or communication hubs, or someone simply screwing with her head), when her omni-tool had blipped with a message from rear admiral Hannah Shepard. After patiently listening to her daughter protest, the admiral had simply put her foot down. "Leave it be. I know what's happening. Think of it as a gift, there's nothing malicious behind it. Alright?" Shepard grumbled something. "You want to repeat that, soldier?" her mother barked. Training won out over genetics, and Shepard snapped to attention. "No, ma'am." She blinked at her mother's image. "Hey, that's cheating." Hannah's cheek dimpled, a smile so like her daughter's, and she gave a little nod. "That's my girl." "Is this where I make a joke about you being a 'rear' admiral?" ooo Hannah Shepard looked nothing like an Alliance soldier, let alone an admiral. She was short, topping off at barely five feet, bright eyed and beautiful, with a laugh that rang like a bell and a smile the lit up a room. It was effortless how her charm could sway the hardest and how the hardest would melt beneath the light of her reason and playful laugh-lines. The commander inherited nothing else from her father but her height, teased in her adult years for being a 'stretched out version' of her shorter, curvacious mother. It bothered neither of them that Shepard looked nothing else like her father; he'd left the picture before she'd been born. Hannah stepped out of the communications cubicle, nodding to a guard who snapped a sharp salute as she passed by. Undoing her stiff collar as she walked to her quarters, Hannah let her mind wander to the puzzle presented to her daughter ... and the answer it pointed to. Shanxi. She hadn't let her mind dwell on the old war in days, for once caught up in something so much bigger than her memory and the events that shaped everything she did. To separate a place from the experience wasn't easy to do, but when the experience was so wrapped up in a person as piercing and as sharp as he- A soft chime rang through her quarters; her personal data console lit up in one corner. She had a message. Without even realizing it, Hannah had sat down on her bed and stretched out her legs, lost in thought like she swore she wouldn't let herself do until this war was over. But war had a way of making you regret things and remember what it was that had been so important decades ago. She sat at her desk and activated the monitor, automatically queuing up the message. Inquiries have been put on hold. I don't know what you did, but it fixed the problem. Thank you for your discretion. I'm sure the councilor would be grateful. Please let me know if there's anything I can do in service. Arinia Veritas Personal Assitant to the Turian Councilor Hannah gave a small, sad smile. Discretion. Yes, she could be discrete. Her memories followed her into her dreams that night, as they always did, and like usual, she resisted the temptation to let alcohol drown them out.- You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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