Mass Effect 1. Chapter 1

"We're not going to make it!" the gondola operator shouted against heavy sleet. Even his slim silhouette was hard to make out, and they were literally three steps apart.

Gripping the slick railing, Gianna saw the grand mansion in the distance. They were long past the point of no return, he had to refuel if he wanted to cross the canyon by sundown.

"We're almost there!" Gianna hollered through chattering teeth. Noveria wasn't the warmest place in the galaxy, but these extreme temperatures were unbearable, even more so when the board sprung for cheap transport. But ever since the pulse signaled the end of the reaper war, no one wanted to operate in the area where reapers roamed. The frost stuck to her gloves like cake mix, clinging onto her arm and jacket in crystallized sheets.

"I hate this shit," Odin complained from his corner of the gondola. The new guy wasn't nearly as tough as he looked. At six foot two, he stood tall and brave, but after one hour of endless whining, she wanted nothing more than to toss this big baby overboard. "We be freezing our asses, all cause' this guy forgot to pay his taxes?"

"This _guy _didn't register his IPO, smart-ass. Investors are getting antsy and our bosses want answers," Gianna droned, taking great pleasure in boring the newbie with the more technical aspects of white collar crimes. Every transfer thought it was a cushy desk job until they found themselves on solo-missions up shit creek. It was a humbling experience, one she wished he was able to experience without her oversight. Damn board politics!

Odin shrugged, or shivered, she couldn't tell anymore. "I knew that," he shot back in a low voice. "Just don't get why we gotta do this in person."

"I thought you wanted facts with your whine?" Gianna taunted, before whipping back to the excited operator.

"Sweet jesus we made it!" Tim yelled. "Gosh darn it girly, I oughta borrow your eyes every now and then."

Gianna only smiled, resisting the urge to tell him he needed more than new eyes, preferably a whole new body. The old man was 90% cybernetic, yet even with enhancements all around, one couldn't beat the slow process of aging. Not even on Noveria. Tim, who used to be the best operator around, was slowly going senile. It was a miracle if he managed to dock his gondolas right let alone monitor their progression. But he was the only one crazy enough to bring them here so she cut him some slack.

The gondola jerked to a stop as the platform ascended. Gianna was the first one heading for the gate before the other men could get their bearings. Count Almeda's private dock was like a fairytale come true. The entire platform was made of gold, or at least something that appeared gold. A vibrant red carpet marked a path to the skywalk that connected the gondola to Almeda's mansion.

Servants in old school black and white uniforms swarmed her like she was royalty, but Gianna froze. The servants, the dock hands, even the guards were not human. The beings that came to greet her were reapers. It was hard to squash the instinct to run but even though these things hadn't hurt a single person after Shepard's final showdown, the galaxy at large gave most of them a wide berth. Some cities banned the reaper race all together, that included the husks, marauders and anyone who was indoctrinated. This left most of them populating the terminus systems and farther, while some planets were kind enough to reserve an 'undesirables' section, Noveria was no exception. But she never expected to see them in vicinity to royalty.

"Shit ... I don't like this, Parasini," Odin announced, cautiously walking up to her like a wounded deer. His hunched shoulders and suspicious looks at the armed marauders standing guard, didn't help the situation.

Deciding not to let her shit-head of a partner kickstart a trigger war, she turned to the nearest husk and put on a forced smile. "Hi, Count Almeda's expecting us?"

"Riiiiiight thiiiiiiis waaaaaay," the husk wailed, pointing to the skywalk opening that was lit up with two torches. Against the purple sky, it looked like the entrance to a graveyard, but the icky creatures already started making off with her carry-on, leaving her no choice but to follow.

Odin's hand came to her wrist, giving her the best excuse to flip him on his ass. "Wait!" he bellowed, shooting the husks a scathing glare. "Look no one said these things were involved. They're outlawed here. We should send for security and get them off station."

"Maybe I should send for a partner that's not a pussy?" Gianna snatched her wrist from his grasp and rounded on him. "They work for the Count. Do you think he'll want to talk to us let alone do business on Noveria if we round up his staff?"

He didn't reply, but his gaze burned holes through the creatures who stood ready to take his bags.

"Shut up and keep up. If you can't do that, take the gondola back with Tim," Gianna said over her shoulder as she stepped away. "You can tell the board how I need a new partner."

Odin took one look at the three husks basically humming with nervous energy, each one ready to grasp his carry-on should he decide to release his death grip on it. The marauders were tightening their grips on their triggers, seeing something they didn't like in his stare.

Tim broke the silence as he waddled over. "We're all fueled up, but I'm afraid I can't spend the night here. You might be stranded if I leave."

"Coooooount Alllllllmedaaaaaa, has acoooooooomodaaaaaaaations," the husk wheezed.

Odin jerked his bag away from the husk's hands. "Fuck that. And this. I'm heading back for that security team detail. This ain't what I agreed to." He stomped away, putting an end to the debate and successfully leaving her without backup.

Tim watched the display with a furrowed brow. "I know that look, Gianna. If you want to stay, stay. Just be careful is all," he said before heading back to his gondola

Odin was already in the gondola, mashing his omni-tool and trying to get reception. He didn't make eye contact and she felt a sense of pride at having confronted that big baby. But as the two men retreated, her resolve faded. The slow revelation spending the night all by herself in the company of a reclusive count and his reapers, didn't make it any easier.

As the husks lead her to the entrance, Gianna couldn't help but cast a parting glance at the retreating Gondola. Odin kept his gaze straight ahead, a smile playing on his lips as he spoke into his omni-tool. Figures, of course he would bail. That's why she preferred to work alone. That poor schmuck was going to have to explain to the board why he left her alone and for once maybe they would listen and stop trying to pair her up with losers.

What should have been a dingy skywalk was another architectural marvel. Even in darkness, the place was adorned to the nines. The rich red carpet stretched forever, while portraits of reapers hung on either side of the luxurious corridor.

It was too bad the paintings on the wall didn't get the royal treatment.

Instead of pretty things, they depicted reapers in the middle of horrific acts. Some were beaming red lasers onto farmlands, others were having weird tentacle wrestling matches. But it wasn't until the end of the corridor that the disturbing artwork was replaced with sneering portraits of distinguished politicians and descendants of the Almeda fortune. They were near perfect except for the fact that all of them had the markings of indoctrinated eyes. Lifeless, gaunt, eyes with swirls of darkness pooling in the retinas. It didn't make any sense since all of them were long dead before the reapers came.

Their hollow eyes seemed to follow her, lingering on her body, sneering at the odd time or two. Gianna shook her head, blaming her paranoia on lack of sleep.

"I take it you're exhausted?"

Gianna nearly jumped at the sight of Count Almeda before her. The regal man was dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes that citizens of Bekenstein would find too expensive. It was really more of a robe, but one that looked so beautiful that it offset the ugliness of its owner. Crimson red fabric, accentuated his broad shoulders, while a blue felt shirt drew attention from his neck and down to his stomach where it disappeared. The Count's strict posture and intimidating presence was offset by a warm smile. He wasn't handsome by any means, the loose flabs of skin at his cheeks made him look like a pudgy hound. He seemed to be aging naturally despite the tech available to someone of his wealth. It was too bad he couldn't do anything about his own indoctrinated eyes, mere wisps of blue under corrupted corneas. "Yes, I am," Gianna replied, regaining some composure. "I'm sure you're eager to—"

"If it's of any consolation," Almeda interrupted with a raised palm, "I would like to extend my hospitality to you for the night. You have traveled a long way on my behalf, it's the least I can do."

It was impossible to read the intentions behind those charred eyes. But it's not like she had any other choice, well aside from sleeping out on the docking station with the Marauders. Gianna swallowed her questoins and nodded. "Yes, that sounds wonderful, thank you, Count."

"Excellent!" The count boasted before ushering her inside. The husks rushed ahead of them with her carry-on, while Almeda took it upon himself to give her the grand tour.


	2. Chapter 2

Two hours later she was fighting exhaustion and trying to get a word in. "So about that IPO, your company released a–"

"And here is the fifth bathroom!" The Count announced, never breaking his stride as the viewing continued. It was like every door opened out to another palace, just as big and just as ornate as the space they were in.

Gianna sighed and swooped in before he could take them to the fourth rec-room of the main floor. "Look, Count I appreciate the extended tour, I really do. But it's almost midnight and I need to see your financials before your IPO proposal can be reviewed by the board."

Something like defeat finally announced itself in his haunched shoulders and Almeda stopped. She didn't want to push him, but she couldn't exactly go back with a viewing catalogue. "As you wish, Ms. Parasini. I will show you to your room and then my associates will bring you the paperwork."

"Thank you," Gianna replied, falling into step beside him as they turned back.

"And might I interest you in some fine wine?"

Gianna shook her head and smiled. "Thank you, but I'm on the clock. Even when I'm not."

"As you wish," the count resigned, leading them up the stairs and into the guest corridor. This place had a thing for long ornate corridors. The upstairs was no different.

As they passed the first room, Almeda stilled. Gianna managed to stop before she would collide into him and raised a brow. "Something wrong, Count?"

Those dead eyes turned to her with a coldness that chilled her blood. "Ms. Parasini, I would advise you not to open this door tonight. No matter what you hear."

"What might I hear?" she asked, wishing Noverian Intelligence allowed her to visit the premises armed. But the bosses didn't want to upset Almeda in any way. This man was a major entrepreneur and the last thing anyone wanted was for him to leave Noveria. Or rather for his money to leave.

The Count smiled and continued onwards. Gianna lingered by the door, feeling the cold tendrils beneath the sill prick the skin of her toes like knives. Whistles and whispers sounded from beyond, calling out like a distant song from a memory long ago.

"Ms. Parasini?" The Count called, waving her over.

"Yes, coming." Gianna unglued herself from the spot and swallowed her distrust. He _used _to be indoctrinated, he didn't show those reaper tendencies now, none of them did. It was all in the past, she told herself.

The husks treated her to room service despite the fact that she made it quite clear she already ate. Refusing the counts dinner invitation was rude, she knew that much. But the mountain of paperwork concerning his IPO needed an all-nighter if she was to be out of here by morning.

The grapes at her bedside tasted as if they were plucked right from the vine, ripe and juicy. She couldn't help but indulge in the luxury while she could. As she poured over three years worth of reports, detailing the company's holdings, Gianna couldn't help but let her mind wander back to that door. _Just what the hell was the Count hiding?_

"Mooooooore, fruuuuuuit, Msssss?" A husk asked, appearing like a shadow in her room, uninvited.

"No, I'm good thanks," Gianna stammered, trying to keep her heart from jumping out of her throat. The little servants were too slick and silent for her liking. "I think I'm done with food for tonight."

"Oooooooof coooooooooursssssse," the husk rasped, as he cleared her trays and left. For such creepy things they sure were efficient.

Chimes woke her at midnight. Face down against her datapads, Gianna scrambled for her omni-tool, only to see that it was nowhere near morning.

A deep trumpet-like horn ripped through the quiet, shaking the entire mansion as if they were hit by a mortar. After contemplating to just stay in bed and let this night pass, Gianna leapt from bed and dashed for the door. The halls were packed with husks and marauders patrolling the place in perpetual motion, as if hypnotized by the sounds.

She slunk past them, intent on finding Almeda, only to freeze at the locked door. The draft tickled her bare feet again, but this time curiosity won over as she approached and put a hand to the the cold wood. It didn't budge. Something was in there alright and whatever it was, seemed to be responsible for the sudden reaper-like noises that had been absent from the galaxy for over a year.

Kneeling she tried to peer beneath the door, hoping for anything that would make sense of this crazy night. The sound continued in pulses, definitely originating from the other side but there was no one there. Only blue lights danced across the floor.

The cold draft was starting to chill her eyeballs, so she stood. The Count's walking dead continued their lifeless walk around her, seemingly oblivious to their bewildered house guest. Husks trudged after other husks, while marauders mirrored them on the other side of the mansion's rail.

Something wasn't right, this entire picture wasn't right and the sound of reapers boomed louder. Gianna inched away from the door. Almeda was behind all this, he had to be, and she was done playing his house guest.

She turned for the stairs, only to slam face first into the count himself. As Almeda staggered back, she charged her omni-tool and aimed for center mass. "Don't move, Count."

Almeda smiled, his eyes swirled with indoctrinated darkness as he froze. "Is something the matter, Ms. Parasini?"

The deafening roar of the reaper sounds screeched from behind the door. Marauders and husks alike, stopped in their tracks and gave an inhuman growl. She didn't know what to make of that, but it's not like there was time to ponder the phenomenon. "Open that door," she commanded.

Almeda's shoulders sagged as he watched the scene before him. "I don't think you want me to do that."

"Open it!" Gianna commanded, hovering the tip of her omni-tool close to his heart. She was no expert with tech attacks, the board issued pistols not omni-tools. But undercover sessions of stunning any would-be aggressors gave her the confidence to maintain control now.

The Count seemed to consider this as he raised a finger to his chin in mock contemplation. Was he for real? It didn't matter. Reaper sounds were getting more intense and before she could unleash a stun attack the man nodded and swiped a hand over the console.

A swoosh of doors revealed an empty room with a desk and pulsating blue device that caught the corner of her eye. The deafening sounds of reaper noises faded, husks and marauders returned to their patrols, unfazed by the events. None of them seemed to care that their Count was at her mercy.

"What is that?" Gianna asked, glancing to the blue device.

The Count stepped in before her and bowed. "I think that's something you should see for yourself, Ms. Parasini. Please, you are my guest."

Training said not to trust him, but the allure of the blue box tugged at her curiosity, propelling her onwards. There was nothing particularly interesting about this box, it was a solid slab of grey with a red, blue and green button pattern on top.

She looked to Almeda for instructions but the Count just stood back with his arms crossed, watching, waiting. He was clearly no help here. Her hands hovered over the options, unsure of what to press first.

"There's only one right answer," the Count said, sending a chill down her spine as the weight of the mystery settled into her being.

"Do I get a hint?" she asked, only half-joking.

The Count did not reply, but his small grin of amusement fueled her sense of adventure. Three buttons, three choices, and only one of them was right ... or so he said. Of course walking away was always an option, but she was stuck here until daybreak anyways so what was the harm in pushing a colored button?

Careful to keep the omni-tool trained on him she surveyed her options. Her index finger hovered over the red, feeling like a school kid about to press one of those yahg-in-the-box toys. But red seemed to obvious. Green held the middle spot, but it felt too safe, too much like the easy way compromise between two rival colors.

"What the hell," she mumbled under her breath and pressed the blue button.

Blue light shot out from the box, painting the ceiling. Instinct told her to dive for cover, but something about the hypnotic display prompted her to watch. The beam split in two, proliferating into a projection of a VI who looked suspiciously like a certain Commander everyone in the galaxy praised just a year ago.

"I'm Commander Shepard, and you are my favorite investigator in the galaxy!" the VI spouted, the loop restarted and Shepard put his hands on his hips to replay the line.

"What the hell...?" Gianna asked, turning to the Count who was still leaning against the wall with a smugness that only a pompous Count could master.

Laughter came first, then the entire dark facade crumbled as his laughter filled the room. It sounded odd to her ears, since indoctrinated people had yet to show any emotions to the galaxy. But here was this regal post-indoctrinated count, laughing his ass off. She didn't know what to make of it but kept her aim steady.

"You were scared shitless, Gianna," the count said in a surprisingly casual tone. "And here I thought you always wanted to be a cop?"

"Yeah, but what part of dealing with nothing unpleasant did you not under..." she trailed off, her eyes twitched wide before regarding her host with a newfound realizing. "Wait ... Shepard?"

"The one and only." The Count, or rather, Shepard pushed away from the wall and clapped. "Happy Birthday, Gianna."

He looked nothing like the VI. The Count was older, somewhere in his sixties with barely any hair left on that shiny head where skin was sagging en-mass. Her face fell. "But, you're ... indoctrinated?"

"I control the indoctrinated," Shepard replied.

A husk walked in and suddenly began speaking casually as well. "Everyone from the husks to the cannibals," the husk said as Shepard spoke through him.

Gianna didn't know what to do, looking between the corrupted Count and enslaved husk she felt like a contestant on bizarre creations. Not only had one of her good friends returned, but he surprised her and was kind enough to remember her birthday, one she had long since stopped celebrating.

She didn't know whether to zap him or run. Instead she rushed up and flung her arms round the Count, drawing him into a fierce hug. She felt his arms tighten around her and smiled into his chest. A million questions ran through her mind, beginning with this strange phenomenon and ending with the IPO, but none of them really mattered. No, the hero of the galaxy was back and for now that was enough.

"You look exhausted," Shepard commented when he drew back. She didn't know how anyone could see through those rotted eyes, but then remembered the second perspective from the husk beside them.

"No thanks to you." She shoved him playfully as years of stress seemed to leave her body. "I still can't believe it. This ... whatever this is ... it's unreal."

Shepard chuckled and patted her shoulder. "You should get some sleep, Gianna."

"Are you kidding?" She grabbed his arm and rushed past the husk, "I don't see you for a year. Everyone thinks you're dead and now after scaring me half-to-death you want me to sleep?"

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying to keep pace. It was harder than it looked, the old man's legs were nowhere near as agile as hers.

"Wherever you keep your priciest wines," she said over her shoulder. "We're getting hammered and then you'll tell me everything."

After an alcohol fueled night where they shared everything from his final moments on the Citadel, to her agonizing account of Noveria trying to re-adjust to the now benign reaper race; the two of them trailed after the husks who scampered ahead with her suitcase.

"So _every_ husk...?" she asked, gripping his bicep, as if afraid he would disappear.

"Is really me," Shepard explained, as they strolled through the skywalk. "I think I empathize with the Shadow Broker now."

"I'll bet," Gianna pondered, watching him carefully. "But can't you just block out the signals?"

He shook his head. "Not if I want to keep the peace."

"That sounds stressful," she replied, knowing the effects of workaholism.

The sunlight filtered through the skywalk windows, as he stopped and turned to her. "I get bored every now and then, but ... I have broad shoulders for a reason." He smiled. "Besides, it's all worth it when I can still surprise a friend."

Metallic screeching from the docking Gondola, cut their talk short. Shepard leaned in to give her a hug and she thanked him for the wonderful night of relaxation and company. When they parted he turned to go, clearly not ready to show his favorite reclusive human puppet to the world.

"You could come with me, you know?" she said quickly, before her brain could process just what she was saying out loud. "You could explain everything to the board, help the Galaxy accept the reapers."

Shepard stopped at the skywalk and looked to his trusted husks. "I'm always with you." He smiled. "Just remember that and take care of yourself."

There was nothing left to do but nod as she watched his retreat. That was when the rays of light caught her eye. The disturbing paintings from last night where nowhere to be found, only windows lined the skywalk.

Her lips parted in question. Was it all a part of the trick too? Or was it ... Gianna shook her head. "Why do I even bother?" she said to herself with a smile, before trudging over to the Gondola.

Odin peppered her for answers but she only smiled, feeling powerful with the knowledge of one of the galaxy's best kept secrets.

* * *

**A/N: I wanted to do something light hearted, as well as play with the idea of indoctrination in a post-'blue pulse' world. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!**


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