69Notes: And we're back! Hope we didn't make you wait too long...
CGC - Center for Galactic Cooperation
ECLSS - Environment Control and Life Support System
Salarato - Turian military rank for staff or highly technical positions, rough equivalent to Human warrant officer w/ ranks 1-4
Losing Sleep
Normandy SR2, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 7 Nov 2188
Council Spectre Ashley Williams was enjoying a cup of coffee and a sweet roll in the Mess Area on Deck Three. Edi and Joker had successfully trailed the Nalotir back to the rogue Quarian flotilla, currently on the far side of the star at the center of the Tassrah System. The Normandy's long-range scans had recorded the vessel decloaking as it approached Admiral Han'Gerral's flagship, the Neema. The Nalotir had subsequently docked within the Neema, where it stayed for just over 12 hours – a period of time Ashley and XO Leon Rensch felt was sufficient to unload whatever cargo she carried and allow her crew to rest while the Neema's technicians inspected and serviced the suspect vessel for its next foray.
She had just downed the rest of her coffee when she received a call from Edi. "The Nalotir has emerged from the Neema's cargo hold, Commander, and immediately transitioned to FTL. I believe she is on course for Ishassara to take on hydrogen, and the planet is extremely close to the relay, Ma'am. I would suggest we set course to arrive between the relay and the planet and wait for her arrival."
"Make it happen, Edi. I'm on my way up to you now." After washing her cup, she took the elevator up to deck two; conferring with her XO as she studied the galaxy map, she said softly, "We have to be ready to jump when they get here, Leon… and we'll most likely have to take a guess as to where they're going."
"Flip a cred, Ma'am?" Chuckling softly, he waved at the close-up depiction of the nebula; with a wry grin, he observed, "If they don't use the relay, they could be heading for Typhon to raid Aite, or Salahiel to give the Elcor some grief on Ekuna. Hard to predict… harder still to correct a destination error. We guess wrong, they can raid either location and be out of the damned system before we can discover where they went." Shaking his head, he muttered, "Don't see how in Hell they can continue to be so lucky."
Ashley nodded grimly as she studied the galaxy map. With a huff of discouraged acceptance, she nodded at Rensch's assessment. "Their run of good fortune cannot last forever, Leon. Dammit, they're stealing from honest folks just trying to get by after a galaxy-wide shit-storm. I want to end this, preferably without having to destroy all of their ships." Shaking her head, she bounced the offside of her fist on top of the projector well guard rail and began walking towards the tactical passageway on her way to the bridge. Just have to take a little bit of their luck and use it for our own purposes.
Spectre Williams stood behind the navigator's chair – currently occupied by an extremely busy Edi – and watched in fascination as the ship decloaked exactly where Edi had said it would. "That's really astounding, Edi… and such a waste."
Edi stiffened slightly – if that was the correct description for her reaction – as she asked, "In what way, Commander?"
Ashley looked down as the visor-covered mechanical eyes turned up to gaze at her. "Um, sorry, Edi. Their method of cloaking that ship is astounding. The waste is the resources the Quarians expended to enable it in the first place. Using that tech for defense is one thing… but now they're only using it to enable their piracy."
Her attention was diverted by Joker. "Quarians are spooling up their FTL drive, Commander, and the relay appears to be responding… it's reorienting for Sahrabarik."
Turning towards the Flight Lieutenant, she asked, "Omega? Seriously?" After a moment's pause, she said, "Let's get on their tail, Joker. Either of you care to guess where she's going?"
Saying, "No way to be certain, Commander… just have to see where they go from there," Joker busied himself with setting a course and following the Nalotir as soon as it disappeared into the space-time corridor opened by the relay.
Edi's opinion was a bit more reasoned. "They're only targeting Turian assets, Ma'am. There is nothing for them to gain by staying in Sahrabarik – too many non-Turian vessels, military and civilian – plus the warships providing security for Omega Station."
Glancing at a miniature projection of the CIC's galaxy map, she added in a thoughtful tone, "The closest system of interest to them might be Sigurd's Cradle… its relay is in the Skepsis system, which has a rebuilt fuel depot. Once there, they can easily reach Triginta Petra in the Lenal System; at the end of the war, Turian agribusinesses there had a surplus of both plant- and animal-based food products for dextro-based organics." After a brief pause, she concluded, "I expect the animal-based products there have been depleted by the Turians. However, plant-based rations, such as those favored by the Quarians, may still be in storage in sufficient quantities to attract the Nalotir.
"Where might they go from there?"
Edi glanced at Joker as she replied, "I am reasonably sure they will avoid the Psi Tophet system, and none of the other star systems would be of any interest to them."
Joker asked, "The Vallhallan Threshold, maybe? Pre-War, the Quarians had a significant number of ships extracting fuel from Farlas, in the Micah System. Otherwise, they'd have no obvious need to go there."
Ashley said, "Perhaps we're over-thinking this. They could simply be traveling to Omega Station to barter or trade for goods they cannot produce for themselves."
Joker laughed as he added, "Yeah… they'll be trading in stolen merchandise. Not very smart if they're doing that right under Aria's nose."
"Maybe not smart but, by this time, they're likely desperate… and that can make them dangerous." The Spectre shook her head as she turned to walk back to the CIC.
Normandy SR2, Nalotir Pursuit, At Large – 12 November 2188
Ashley held her breath as she waited for a Sitrep from Edi. They had followed the Nalotir to Omega Station; even considering all the traffic flying between the relay and the station, and with no transponder signal being emitted, Edi was able to track the cloaked ship by following its unique heat signature. "The Quarians have docked within the station's transit moorage area, Commander."
Joker had brought the Normandy to a near standstill 6500 klicks away; activating his comms unit, he added, "We can monitor them from our current location, Ma'am."
Ashley nodded her head as she quietly replied, "Still need to know where they intend to go when they leave the station. Wish we had a tracker on their hull." The Spectre huffed in exasperation. Doesn't do us a damned bit of good if we don't have any idea where they're gonna go next.
Specialist Dubow looked up at the brooding woman, saying, "Ma'am? I've been monitoring comms between the station's computer and various ships requesting exit vectors."
Ashley could see he had something, so replied, "Talk to me."
"The Quarians may be pirates, but they have to interact with the station's flight controllers just like anyone else. They've just requested a vector back to the relay… they intend to go to the Shrike Abyssal, Ma'am."
Ashley looked puzzled by the information for several moments before she brightened and replied, "Sounds as if they're heading for the Thal System, Specialist; a chance to do a few more raids on some Turian freighters, perhaps?"
"That would be my guess, Ma'am."
Williams touched the control on the comms device sitting in her right ear canal. "Joker… the Nalotir is getting ready to leave; Mr Dubow believes they'll be heading for the Thal System in the Shrike Abyssal. Keep an eye on the relay… with so much traffic, we'll have to be riding that ship's ass pretty hard when she goes through, otherwise we'll be sitting here forever waiting for the damned thing to complete another realignment." Squeezing her temples between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, she muttered, "What a pain in the ass."
The Quarian raider, having jumped from the Omega Nebula to the Hourglass Nebula, cloaked immediately upon entering the system and was loitering in the vicinity of the relay. In order to avoid detection, Ashley masked the Normandy's identity by changing the transponder code to match that of the MV Shun'fe-Thuut, a Salarian passenger vessel that had left Omega for the Eagle Nebula prior to the Nalotir's departure from the station's transit moorage.
Then, to keep those aboard the Nalotir from realizing they were being followed, she immediately requested that Joker accelerate away from the relay, apparently on a course for the Salarian colony world Erinle. Ashley waited for Edi's confirmation that they had escaped notice by the Quarians before having Joker turn the transponder off; they then slowed and changed course in a large, looping trajectory that would take the Normandy back to the relay as Edi reported, "The relay is now aligned for transit to the Shrike Abyssal, Commander." After a brief pause, she added, "Nalotir has decloaked… the rings are spinning up for transit."
Ashley responded, "Follow them, Joker, before the relay can return to standby mode."
"Aye-aye, Ma'am."
Normandy SR2, Nalotir Pursuit, Shrike Abyssal – 15 November 2188
Normandy had entered Xe Cha less than six minutes after the Quarian raider Nalotir yet could detect no sign of the ship in the system, cloaked or not. Ashley was only partially successful at keeping the concern from coloring her voice as she asked, "Edi? Joker? Where'd they go?"
Edi responded first, saying, "Searching for their heat signature, Ma'am." After several increasingly tense minutes, a pair of artificial eyes turned their nearly unblinking stare to the Spectre's face as she reported, "I believe the Nalotir departed this system within minutes of arriving from Osun. Based on the trace evidence, their departure vector seems to agree with your theory the Quarians are going to Thal."
Turning towards Joker, Ashley said, "Set course and follow, Joker – scan the system the instant we're flying in normal space, and make sure we're running silent before you drop from FTL."
Nalotir, At Large, Shrike Abyssal – 15 November 2188
Jeto'Zaedor vas Nalotir slouched in his command chair as the fast-attack frigate entered Xe Cha. "Engage cloak, set course for the Thal system, and get us there as fast as possible." Receiving verbal acknowledgments from his pilot, navigator and weapons control officer, he sat up a bit straighter. He was a long way from home, something that made him uncomfortable – not that he would ever admit to it.
He and his small crew had been hand-picked for this mission by Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral of the Heavy Fleet; to date, the Nalotir had made a number of very successful raids, mostly on Turian ships. Once their victim's engines and ECLSS were rendered non-operational through the use of the targeted-beam weapon designed by Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Jeto's crew led the boarding of the disabled vessel and killed the crew, then called in freighter support to transfer the ship's cargo. Once the freighter arrived, the Nalotir would depart, having remained cloaked the entire time to deny anyone's visual identification of the ship as Quarian. They were extremely efficient, so the victims' panicked comms requests for aid never produced assistance before the Quarian raiders were well on their way to another system, their cargo hold fully loaded with everything they could carry.
Jeto turned towards navigator Laelu'Vulin. "Alert me when we leave Xe Cha, Vulin, and then again when we reach the outer edge of Thal." Rising from his command chair, he stepped up beside Weapons Control Lieutenant Rusin'Fosal, saying, "Keep scanning for other vessels, Rusin, especially behind us. I don't like being so far from backup; even though I believe in the invisibility of this ship, it's a technology that can malfunction without warning." He began moving for the passageway hatch as he concluded, "No matter how silently we run this ship, equipment can… and will fail, unexpectedly, with possibly catastrophic results."
Turning to face his bridge crew, he said, "I'll be in the galley getting a bite to eat," then turned and left.
Normandy SR2, Thal System, Shrike Abyssal – 16 November 2188
The Spectre frigate had just entered a high orbit of Altakiril when specialist Dubow paged Commander Williams. "I'm picking up a distress call from a Turian freighter, Ma'am… the MSV Spirito's Nimet. They're under attack, a quarter-million klicks from Altakiril…"
"What's their status, Specialist?"
"Unknown, Ma'am. Their distress message is being continuously repeated at ten-second intervals – simply indicating an attack is in progress."
Motioning to Joker and Edi, she said, "Get us there, now!"
Ashley braced herself as Joker gave her a clipped "Aye-aye," and threw the Normandy into a steep climbing trajectory away from the planet.
In a matter of minutes, the Normandy was within scanner range of Spirito's Nimet; the freighter was within visual range seconds later. "Any sign of the Nalotir, Flight Lieutenant? Edi?"
Edi answered for them both as Joker maneuvered Normandy to stand off at a safe distance from the freighter, drifting slowly on what may have been its original course. "The Quarians have left the area, Commander… perhaps to return to the planet, which I believe was their primary target."
Activating her ear-mounted comlink, the Spectre spoke to Specialist Dubow. "Contact that ship, Mr Dubow… tell them who we are, find out the extent of the damage, number of casualties…"
Dubow acknowledged her request; while she waited for his report, she inspected the results of Edi's preliminary scans of the vessel. No hull breaches. No scoring on their exterior… doesn't appear as if they were touched.
Dubow's voice, rich with concern, floated in on her comms. "Main engines disabled, ECLSS damaged, Ma'am. The Turians are attempting to regain control with maneuvering thrusters." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "They've terminated their distress message."
"What about injuries… or casualties, Specialist?"
"No deaths reported, Ma'am. A few of their people in engineering are suffering from severe headaches." After a brief pause, he continued with, "They've requested assistance, Ma'am. It appears repairs to their propulsion systems may require a few parts they don't have on board."
"Okay, thanks, Specialist… continue monitoring their situation." Headaches? What in Hell?…
Touching her comlink to change its target, Ashley directed her next request to her number two. "Commander Rensch, put together a damage control team for that ship… and be sure to include Curt Manos – he has a good understanding of alien propulsion systems. Turians are pretty damned self-reliant, but we need to help them get underway; we certainly can't leave them adrift out here."
"Aye, Ma'am."
"And Mr Rensch? I want to know what kind of weapon the Quarians used to disable that ship… and how it managed to induce headaches in those people." Ashley frowned as she continued, "I have a sneaking suspicion that it's the damned energy weapon Tali and Judea have been attempting to find a counter-measure for. Next time I speak with Councilor Tevos, I'll ask her to check on their progress and have them send me an update."
"We'll get the Spirit back on her way, Ma'am, and obtain whatever answers we can." Even though Ashley couldn't see him, Rensch gave a brief nod and added hopefully, "And, just maybe, we'll find the missing piece Tali and Judea need to solve their little mystery."
MSV Spirito's Nimet, Thal System, Shrike Abyssal – 16 November 2188
Captain Octaso Savernake warmly greeted and welcomed the damage control team from the Normandy; looking intently at Lieutenant Commander Rensch, he said, "I don't know what would have happened… what we would have done, if you hadn't arrived when you did." Glancing at the men standing behind the Normandy's XO, he added, "I just hope you can repair our propulsion and life support systems sufficiently to enable a safe return to our home world."
"Did they board your ship, Captain Savernake?"
"Strangest thing, Commander. Once we were disabled, they moved in close, as if they were going to… but they didn't. Instead, they just sat there, making us sweat for fifteen minutes or so before turning tail. Based on the freighter's departure trajectory, I believe they're making a run on Altakiril."
"Wait… a freighter? …"
"That's correct, Commander… a damned freighter – LADAR painted it as configured virtually identically to this one, so… Turian." Shaking his head, Octaso used sub-harmonics to convey his disbelief that his own people had attacked him. "Ship didn't appear to have any external weaponry… not even a damned missile launcher. I've heard that other freighters have been hit out here but never would have expected the pirates to be Turian."
"Don't be so sure your own people are targeting you just because it's a Turian ship. It wouldn't be the first time a pirate captain commandeered someone else's ship as an upgrade… or a smoke shield to hide their true identity… particularly since they didn't board you." Rensch nodded encouragingly. "But it sounds like they either scanned your ship and figured there were too many of you to take on… or, you were set up as a diversion and now they're raiding someone else while we're busy helping you."
After a brief pause, Rensch sighed and shook his head before adding, "If you would, please have one of your crew show my propulsion engineer and his assistants to your engineering department… hopefully, they can assist your people in getting your engines running again." Looking back at his team, he said, "See what can be done to get these people safely on their way, Mr Manos."
The Turian captain nodded as he motioned for Salarato Albaso to lead the Humans to the lower level; after waiting for Manos and his team to leave, Rensch returned his attention to Savernake, saying, "What about the people suffering from severe headaches, Captain? How many, and were there no other physical injuries among your crew?"
Octaso motioned for Rensch to precede him down a short passageway as he replied, "Crew compliment on the 'Spirit' is quite small, Commander… those suffering the most, including Salarato Albaso, were in the engineering compartments during the attack. It's almost as if…" he paused outside a small compartment and motioned for Rensch to enter. "My quarters, such as they are. As I seriously doubt you can safely drink any spirits I may have on board, may I offer you some water?"
Rensch offered his thanks as he declined. Reminding the captain of his observations regarding the attack, he asked, "You must have served in the military during the war, Captain. Do you suppose that ship was using some kind of directed-energy weapon?"
Flaring his mandibles in surprise, he looked at his desk for several moments before returning his steady gaze to Rensch's eyes. "Those crewmen were on their knees at their work stations, Commander. They were holding their crests and groaning from the pain, and there wasn't a mark on 'em… any of them. Crew further from the engineering area suffered least. I've never heard of anything like this."
"Sounds like a damned effective weapon, Captain. Disable propulsion and environmental, plus render ineffective the very people needed to put things right again." After a brief pause, Rensch asked, "Are the affected crewmen all back to normal, Captain? Even though she's Human, our ship's doctor is quite knowledgeable concerning multiple species' physiology. We could bring her over, have her check those crew that were affected the most?"
Captain Octaso spread his mandibles in an expression that Rensch had come to recognize as a Turian smile. "Your offer is most generous, Commander, but she would need several years of practical, first-hand experience in treating Turians. I don't expect she would…"
Leon raised his hands as he interrupted. "Actually, Dr Chakwas spent the entire war on the Normandy. She learned about Turians the hard way, treating Garrus Vakarian every time he returned from a ground mission chewed up by enemy fire." With a chuckle, Rensch added, "Vakarian was usually watching Commander Shepard's six – as she was generally drawing the most fire from whatever enemy force she was attempting to eliminate, Garrus caught a great deal of the fire directed at her."
Octaso's look of amazement was quickly replaced by a respectful expression as he said, "Spirits! I had completely forgotten about General Vakarian's time on your ship, Commander. I will speak with my second… ask if any crewmen are experiencing after-effects from the attack."
Rensch smiled and nodded just as his omnitool lit-up and chimed. "Excuse me, Captain… I need to answer this." The Turian rose to leave, only to waved back down by the commander as he activated his omnitool. "You may think of something more while I'm speaking with Spectre Williams, Captain."
In response to Ashley's inquiries concerning the freighter, Rensch filled her in on what he had learned, concluding with the theory that the Nalotir had used Spirito's Nimet as a diversion for a strike against its real target, Altakiril.
"I agree with you, Commander. I'll have Dubow check comms on the planet… see if anyone is reporting an attack." Ashley's voice rang with disappointment as she continued, "I'd like to continue the pursuit, but I don't suppose getting Spirito's Nimet operational again is going to happen anytime soon, is it?"
"Not fast enough for that, Ma'am." Rensch huffed in frustration, sharing her displeasure over the lost opportunity. "I'll go below and see how Mr Manos and his team is doing… I'll report in as soon as we have an estimated completion time."
Normandy SR2, At Large, Shrike Abyssal – 17 November 2188
Reading Rensch's report made Ashley's head hurt. Massaging her temples between thumb and fingers of one hand, she used the other to take a sip of coffee from the mug that seemed to be her constant companion these days. "Goddamned Quarians are making this difficult, Leon. They're really organized, dammit, much more so than we realized… though I should have expected it! They have to be meticulous, or their race would have perished a long time ago."
"I know," answered Rensch. In Ashley's private quarters, the two were much more relaxed in their conversations than they ever would be in front of the crew. "Here we thought it was independent raiders, and it turns out they have fucking Marine teams on standby in freighters, waiting for the Nalotir to disable their next victim. It sure explains how they've been so fast in transloading what they steal… and why we are never able to catch the Nalotir in the act."
"Fast strike to disable the ship and incapacitate the crew, transfer the cargo, and they're gone… leaving the 'Turian pirate' freighter to take the blame for the attack, since that's all the target vessel sees." Ashley shook her head. "Pretty damned smart."
"I think we're going to need some help." Rensch met the Spectre's eyes. "We simply can't monitor all the sectors at the same time; we need to figure out where the damned freighters are based… or, at the very least, where they're ducking in to transfer the stolen cargo. They're not nearly fast enough to travel between systems undetected."
"Yes," Williams nodded in agreement. "And I'm really beginning to wonder if the Nalotir is the only stealth ship the Quarians are using for piracy. They seem to be hitting too many locations, all of them light-years apart, for it to be the work of just one vessel…"
"That would make sense." Leon gulped down the last of the liquid in his tumbler. "Which means we have work… a lot of work… yet to do before we can catch the bastards."
"Yeah." Ashley yawned as they both stood up. "Try to get some sleep… maybe then, at least, one of us will be rested." With a wry chuckle, she added, "I'm sure as Hell not getting much sleep these days; trying to come up with some plan to catch them in the act is keeping me up nights."
"Me too, Ma'am." Leon turned towards the door and started walking as he repeated, "Me too."
CGC, Widow System, Serpent Nebula – 20 Nov 2188
A pair of eyes, barely visible beneath a tangle of hair, slipped open as narrowly as possible and struggled to focus on the chrono display sitting some 45-50 centimeters from her pillow. A hand, fingers spread wide, slowly emerged from beneath the covers in an attempt to 'comb' the majority of the lush, brown hair away from her eyes. Task complete, the hand silently retreated back into the cocoon of warmth under which its owner had been sleeping. Eventually able to focus on the softly glowing numbers – 0423 – the eyes reclosed as the woman, sheet and quilts pulled high enough to cover most of her head, attempted to return to her dreams.
She was just drifting off to sleep when a jolt in the lower left portion of her swollen belly was sharp enough to awaken her. Placing a hand on the bare skin where she'd felt the movement, she pressed lightly and waited. Within minutes, she was poked twice more. Damn. Is this how it's going to be? she wondered. Another 15 to 18 weeks of disturbed sleep? Suppose I should get used to it… once they're born, uninterrupted sleep will be a thing of the past for me. She chuckled softly, shaking her head at where her mind next went. Two babies. Babes. They'll be about as bothersome together as Kenneth was after he proposed… before our marriage. Those four weeks… sleeping together in the environmental compartment on deck three… the man was insatiable! The exceedingly pleasant memories brought a tickle of warm desire to her core. My God! I miss him so much, it actually hurts! She wiped away a single tear that had escaped to travel down her cheek towards her ear. Damn hormones!
Gabriela Donnelly had been on the CGC for just over 3 months. In that short span of time, her trim form had blossomed as the life inside her womb grew in size. Her obstetrician, Dr Kathryn Walsh, had discovered during one of Gabby's routine checkups that the mother-to-be was carrying twins, a discovery that brought equal measures of joy and sadness – while she was elated that she had conceived two babies with Kenneth, she was quite sad at her inability to share the good news with him; her husband was still a systems engineer on the Normandy, currently comms out while clandestinely monitoring the Quarian situation somewhere in the area of the Far Rim.
When she awoke again – after a pleasant dream about the wedding reception on Thessia – it was 0656. Time to crawl out of her cozy nest of sheet, comforter, and quilts. It would have ordinarily been a work day, but her department supervisor had given her the day off in recognition of her 33rd birthday. Just another reason to miss Kenneth… Hell, everyone! All my shipmates on the Normandy.
Standing beside the bed, she grabbed and pulled on an oversized sweatshirt to ward off the chill of her bedroom; after voiding her bladder – something she needed to do with ever-increasing frequency these days – she used a dampened washcloth to gently scrub the sleep from her face, brushed her hair into some semblance of order, then pulled on clean underpants and socks before stepping into a pair of comfortable bottoms that matched her top. Glancing at herself in a full-length mirror, she cupped the lower portion of her belly with both hands. Wonder if Kenneth would still think I'm beautiful if he could see me right now…
With a heavy sigh, she made her way into her compact kitchen to make a bit of breakfast for herself. Setting a pot of water to boil, she made a serving of oatmeal and two slices of toast while she waited. Once the water was hot enough, she made a cup of tea, having sworn off coffee – alcohol as well – at least for the duration of her pregnancy.
While she drank her tea and ate, she used the small reader on her counter to check the news feeds. As an Alliance member, she had access to a bit more data than the average citizen; she first checked on what was being reported from the Far Rim – looking for any and all information about the Quarian situation and what was being done by the Galactic Council. Gabby always found the dearth of news a bit disturbing, but also guessed that if anything really bad had occurred, she'd be told about it at work.
With breakfast done and dishes cleaned up and put away, Gabby moved to her small living room for her morning 'walk'; one of the things Dr Walsh had recommended for Gabby's health was a heavy-duty treadmill. Knowing she was carrying twins, the doctor had insisted that Gabby record the frequency and duration of her use of the machine; she was attempting to keep her patient from gaining excessive weight during the pregnancy, telling her that losing any net gain after she gave birth would be difficult, given the sedentary nature of her job.
Gabby thought of this as she walked, then jogged slowly on the machine… attempting to keep her heart rate at a steady 145 beats per minute. Gabby's hormones were playing havoc with her emotions; learning she had gained nearly 5 kilograms since the end of June had her weeping in Dr Walsh's office. The doctor had held her hands and told her what she was experiencing was perfectly normal and expected, especially with twins.
Even though only 30 minutes into her work out on the treadmill, Gabby was forced to quit. Is the extra weight really making me so tired? After resting for a bit, she stripped out of her clothes and took a warm shower to wash off the sweat; upon slipping into some loose-fitting clothing and a comfortable pair of shoes, she grabbed her shoulder bag and left to do a bit of shopping.
Taking a bit longer to complete her shopping than planned, Gabby had hastily returned to her apartment in order to put her groceries away – something she wouldn't have bothered to do if not for the few items needing refrigeration – then left again, this time carrying a swimsuit and towels in a shoulder bag.
She walked the short distance to the enlisted personnel swimming pool; Dr Walsh had prescribed regular visits to the pool, two or three times a week, as it was a low-impact way for her to exercise that was more beneficial than using her treadmill. Despite the fact she didn't like the way she looked in the one-piece suit, she had decided being uncomfortable about her appearance wasn't nearly as important as the health benefits she received from swimming a number of laps on the recommended schedule.
After an hour – with short breaks – of swimming slow laps, Gabby left the pool for the showers, got dressed and walked back to her apartment. It was mid-afternoon when she walked through her door; after hand-washing her swimsuit and hanging it in the bathroom to dry, she looked at her comms terminal and discovered a short message from Tamiko, her new friend in the research center. The Senior CPO wanted to drop by after she was done with work, saying in her message that no one should be alone on their birthday. Gabby, still feeling lonely here after spending so much time with the crew of the Normandy, sent a reply assuring Ms Miyazaki she was welcome to come by – she could even stay for a light dinner.
Gabby, having taken a quick shower – her third of the day – toweled her body off and pulled on some fresh clothes; after another walk/jog on her treadmill, the slight amount of sweat she'd produced had dried on her skin, and she knew she'd never get a decent night's sleep if she didn't rinse it off.
Going to the small counter next to her kitchen, she set out plates and utensils for dinner with Tamiko, who had insisted on stopping at a nearby restaurant to buy a meal for each of them. Gabby had not asked, and Tamiko had not volunteered to tell her what they would be eating; Gabby trusted that her friend was very aware of her dietary requirements. Her early morning nausea had passed at about the ten-week mark, but her system was still a bit sensitive… just the thought – never mind the actual odor – of Ken eating his beloved haggis was nearly enough to set her off.
She was ready to pour a bit of wine for her guest – water was all Gabby would be having – when the entry request chimed. With a few steps, Gabby was at the door and opening it wide for a grinning Tamiko, who had her hands and arms full of two or three bags seemingly overflowing with a number of small containers. With a giggle, Tamiko said, "Hope Chinese is okay, Gabby."
Gabby grinned right back. Saying, "I love Chinese… come in! Do you need a hand?" she stepped back while reaching for one of the bags.
"Thanks," Tamiko replied as she released her grip on the bag. "I should have brought a hover cart to carry all this."
Gabby led the way to her dining area, saying, "I was just about to pour some wine for you." She set the bag on the counter and pulled two take-out boxes from within. "Smells wonderful!"
Tamiko set two more bags down on the counter, saying, "There's a complete dinner for each of us, with some sides that we can share. I don't expect you'll be able to eat that much, so I'll leave the leftovers with you for lunch or dinner tomorrow."
"That's not really fair to you, Tammi… there's too much food here for just one person… it'd most likely spoil before I could finish it all. You'll need to take some home with you as well."
"But you're eating for three, right?"
Gabby replied with a chuckle, "That may be, but my stomach fills up so much quicker these days, I have to eat more frequently than before." Sitting on one of the stools in front of the counter, she poured the glass of wine Tamiko's arrival had interrupted, then set their dinners out.
"Chop sticks?" Tamiko slid a package to Gabby, who opened it and began wielding them as she'd been taught. As she enjoyed her Bar-b-que Pork, Sweet & Sour Chicken and Pork Fried Rice, Tamiko dug into her Pork Chow Mein, Sweet & Sour Pork and Fried Shrimp. In addition, there was an appetizer plate containing BBQ Pork, Egg Roll, Crab Puff, and Fried Shrimp, with red and yellow dipping sauces and sesame seeds; this had Gabby really longing for the taste of a cold beer to wash it all down.
"I'm a bit surprised at the availability of all this, Tammi, especially the shrimp… what's the source of the restaurant's food?"
Tamiko's giggle was infectious. "It's split between Earth for the beef and pork, and Sur'Kesh for the shrimp. Veggies are harvested on Earth and Eden Prime, depending on the seasons for each world." She was going to say more, but she stopped short at a grimace from Gabby. Looking at her friend closely, she thought she could detect a trace of pain being reflected in her dark brown eyes. "Gabby? … Is everything okay?"
Rubbing her swollen belly with one hand, she used the other to bring up her glass for a sip of water; setting the glass down, she slowly got to her feet and took the few steps needed to reach her chair as she replied softly, "Don't know, Tammi. They've just recently begun moving around a bit, and I just got an intense stab of pain on the right side, up high; feels like I just got kicked in the liver." She sat down and put her feet up as she waited to see if there was going to be a repeat.
"If you're done eating, Gabby, I can put all this away…"
"Nonsense. Finish eating your dinner, Tammi… I'll be…" she grimaced again. "Damn! That one really hurt."
Tamiko brought up her omnitool. "I'm calling Dr Walsh for you, Gabby. We don't want to take any chances with your health, or that of your babies."
Gabby nodded her head. "I suppose that would be best."
Tamiko had accompanied Gabby to her OB/GYN's nearby office; after checking her over, Dr Walsh had told Gabby that – despite being poked in the liver by a tiny fist or foot – everything was just fine. "I know it doesn't feel good, Ms Donnelly, but it's to be expected. There's not a lot of room in there for one baby, much less two."
Gabby had rolled her eyes at that statement. While walking the short distance back to her apartment, she confided to Tamiko, "Kenneth doesn't realize how lucky he is to still be on the Normandy… I really wish I could give him a hug… then punch him for knocking me up."
Tamiko looked surprised. "Thought you said your implanted contraceptive device failed. You cannot blame Kenneth for an equipment failure neither of you were aware of," she stated.
Shaking her head ruefully, Gabby chuckled as she readily admitted, "You're right, Tammi. I'd have to kiss 'im to make up… after I punched 'im." Still chuckling, she opened the door to her apartment and waved Tamiko in ahead of her. "I'll put a kettle on so we can have some tea."
Tamiko's face was overtaken by a devilish grin. "And I'll slice a piece of cake for each of us!"
A/N: And here we are with 'Forging The Future'! Thanks to all for being patient as we got ourselves organized for this next segment! We certainly hope you continue to enjoy the ongoing saga of the Chronicles of Samantha Shepard... even if you didn't see our favorite couple in the first chapter. Have no fear... they'll be here soon!
