Chapter 57 Preview (Patreon)

Mass effect is owned by Electronics Arts and or Bioware, Deus Ex is owned by Square Enix.Mass Effect Human RevolutionChapter 57: In sheep's clothing, part 12[h+]Special thanks to my extra-generous Patrons: Scythe967, Austin, Jchan and Tasekai!Extra Special thanks to Kalaong, my top Patron, and WarpObscura for the spell-checking.[h+]​At this particular moment, Frost was glad that the Ranger's Mechanized Infantry Protection System came with a codpiece.The ever-ubiquitous X3M hovercar had a backseat that could fit three grown adults, assuming they were squeezed in. A fourth passenger could ride in front, but that seat was occupied by that DARPA mech that, for reasons that baffled Frost, had been loaned to the European Spectre candidate by none other than DARPA.Fuck you so much, Hein, Frost had thought bitterly when he had found this out.And Elsa Devereaux insisted on having it keep its seat. Apparently, the thing made for a pretty good navigator.“I guess someone's riding on my lap,” Frost had declared with a grin, turning to Jane, but had found that both she and the Turian had already taken their seats. Thus came the awkward situation of having — as Frost would put it — some bishonen-looking motherfucker sitting on his lap in a getaway car, chased by Lord-knows-how-many C-Sec cruisers.The confused boner didn't help. Fucking mutant probably has some mutated super-pheromones, thought Frost. Yeah, that's it.​After the excitement of discovering that Terminators were real, and getting into a firefight with Spectres immediately afterward, Frost had expected getting away from C-Sec would involve dodging bullets and PEPS blasts at high speed. To his surprise, Elsa had managed to evade them within seconds after taking off by blending in with the ground traffic. That didn't mean, however, that C-Sec was still on the hunt.“Dispatch to Patrols Delta One through Nine,” said the voice on the dashboard's speaker. “Patrol Theta reports an early model silver X3M leaving the scene of the crime, be on the lookout.” Said dashboard had a couple of split cables running here and there, all connected to a port on the back of the 108's neck. Apparently, not only was it serving as Elsa's navigator, but also as her police scanner. Considering C-Sec encrypted their comms as well as the Geckos, this was an impressive feat for a VI-operated mech. A little too impressive.“Delta Patrol Leader to Dispatch, perimeter established and sealed.”“Roger that Patrol Leader... all units be advised IFF of suspect vehicle is not available — possible hack job.”The 108 opened its palm, and a holographic readout of the X3M showed a very thorough hack job of the hovercar's IFF. Frost had no idea if it would work, but he noticed the deep scowl on Pallin's face, beyond the depolarized visor of his helmet. If C-Sec's former chief looked worried at a block of text, the hack job had to be good, Frost concluded.“Roger that, on the lookout for hacked IFF.”“Delta One Fifty-Two to Dispatch...” Just as Frost heard that, a C-Sec cruiser came up from the right and took a right-turn. Almost immediately, Elsa switched lanes and slowed down in front of a bunch of neon-bright holographic signs and cheap OLED displays — PEEP SHOW, GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS, $$$, the usual — bathing the car in a rainbow of lights. “...Spinward perimeter is clear on the ground.”“Delta One Forty-Seven to dispatch... no visual on a silver X3M in the sky, over.”“Roger that car Forty-Seven, Fifty-two.” replied Dispatch, “As the humans say, keep an eye out.”Frost breathed a sigh of relief. Another bullet dodged, for now... but as he listened to the comm chatter, he could feel the tension in the X3M's cabin rising. C-Sec was thorough, and seemed tireless as soon as reports of two dead Spectres got on the air... strangely, there was no mention of Tigris, or the synthetic wearing her skin.Elsa didn't seem bothered at all, though, her face betraying absolutely no emotion even as she casually drove towards the Citadel's central ring as if on a night out with friends. And they call me Frost.“They'll escalate the search to level two, now,” said Pallin, his tone hushed.“This is level one?” murmured Jane, incredulous. “What's level two involve?”“PatCom support,” replied Pallin.As if on cue, searchlights appeared all over the area, illuminating the highway.“PatCom Bravo-Seven to Dispatch, IFF scan negative, registry checks out...still on the lookout for a silver X3M.”Frost was starting to wonder how many of these flying oven mitts could be painted silver – as far as paintjobs went, silver was pretty common.Just for a second, a searchlight passed over them, but that had been enough. “PatCom Bravo-Three to base, we spotted a silver X3M on the ground Freeway 02 headed ringward.”“Roger that Bravo-Three — all units be advised suspect vehicle on Freeway 03 headed ringward.”In response, Elsa shifted the stick and took the first exit from the freeway available, while the 108 displayed a map of the local area. The European pilot barely glanced at it before dismissing it.“Bravo-Three to all units, suspect vehicle speeding, just took the exit on T'leth Road.”“We should abandon the car, head to sewers,” said Pallin. “Once a PatCom is chasing you, it's over.”Elsa paid him no attention as she took a sharp turn into a dark back street, then another...“Delta-One here, headed for T'leth, ETA 1 minute.”“Delta-Five, copy.”“Bravo-Three here, be advised, suspect may be trying to double back...”Elsa drove along the Freeway, did a sharp turn under it, blocking the line of sight between her and the PatCom flying above... made another turn, and just when everyone expected her to go full speed she instead did a perfect parallel parking job in front of an pawn shop and its bright golden hologram for a Nuyen sign.“Bravo-Three here... lost visual on suspect, moving in for a better look.”She turned off the engine completely, and the lights of the cabin died. Just as Pallin tried to exit, she locked the doors.“What the hell are you doing?” he protested.Elsa barely turned her head, and slowly put her index finger in front of her lips, and let out a long, sultry ssshhh that only a french woman could pull off.Once again, Frost was glad about the codpiece.Pallin, for his part, had been around humans long enough to know what that meant.“Bravo Three to all units, new visual on suspect vehicle...” the PatCom's searchlight slowly crept up to the fugitive's car...“Oh fuck,” muttered Jane.… and promptly passed them over to rest around ten meters behind them. “Scanning. It's empty. Passengers probably abandoned it.”“Dispatch to Bravo-Three, can you see them on foot?”“That's a negative, Dispatch. Foot Traffic's too dense. We're tagging it, just in case we got the wrong one.”“Roger that Bravo-Three, thanks for the assist. Stand by for new orders... Bravo wing, redeploy to Shalta Ward, sector 99. We have a gang shoot-out in progress, Special Response Team needs air support.”“Copy that, Dispatch, redeploying.”“Patrols Delta through Nine stay on the lookout...”The PatCom left the area, and Elsa listened quietly to Delta Patrol's chatter as they lost more and more of patience looking for a silver car that was, unknown to them, easily camouflaged by holographic light. It took half an hour before she was satisfied, turned the lights back on, and took off for the nearest skyway entrance. She dismissed the police frequency scanner for a livestream browser, and checked for local events.An Asari reporter with a big smile in front of a crowed came up on screen. “— here live at the Silverstrip Stadium, and as you can see behind me, people from all around the galaxy are excited for what may be the very first Sharon Apple concert throughout the galaxy! The mysterious digital...”Frost sighed, relieved. “Well, I wouldn't mind some of that overproduced Ossie pop bullshit right about now. Keep the channel on.”“You think we're safe?” asked Tenma, as they stopped at a holographic red light.“We're in the clear,” said Jane. The second she said that, a C-Sec cruiser stopped across from them.There came that tense moment when everyone wondered if those klaxons would blare and the red and blue would pulse. Elsa herself tensed, her grip on the wheel and throttle tightened. Seconds felt like minutes, and the tempo of everyone's heartbeat became enslaved to the rhythm of signal lights, each pulse loud enough to resonate in their chests.“We're not,” said Pallin, darkly.The klaxons screamed. “Delta Pat— WHOA, SHIT!”Elsa had expected C-Sec would assume they were being listened in on, and flew towards Plan B at Mach 3.