Аннотация: Calculation of the number of rations to the Maximum and back. A trip to Garrus' apartment. The idiot is in the kitchen.
Chapter 14.2 Summoning Garrus by the bomb squad.
Pressley actually showed up at the CIC: the XO was arguing about something with a Salarian in an engineer's overalls. The conversation died down as I approached.
"What is the problem?" I asked.
"Is there a problem? There is no problem. They offered to remove the wiretap on the CIC." The Salarian rammed in.
"Will it take a long time?"
"Two days."
"We're leaving in twenty hours."
"We won't make it." stated the engineer.
"When we return from the voyage, the ship will be refitted. Then we'll take off all the excess."
"Yes. Good. Contact our team. We checked the ship. It will be faster."
I nodded in agreement, and the Salarian scurried off somewhere. Pressley watched him with displeasure until the engineer disappeared.
"Captain?"
"Pressley, how many crew are there on the ship without a landing party?"
"Twenty-one people, ma'am."
Garrus took out his datapad and scribbled something.
"How long will it take to reach our destination and will we return to the Citadel immediately?" Garrus asked me.
I looked up at the ceiling.
"Joker, can you hear me?"
I hear you, Captain.
"How long do we have to fly to Therum?"
"The Terum. The Tau of Artemis, the Knossos system?" the pilot specified.
"Do you know another Terum?" I asked skeptically, because I didn't remember where this Room was at all.
"No. He's the only one. Lava, rocks, factories. A hot trash can."
"This particular Therum."
"Eight days, plus time until the repeater."
"Eight days... about a day for the total flight to and from the relay..." Garrus muttered softly. "Twenty-one intelligent crew, landing party-five left, three Dextro, and Rex." The Turian looked up from the datapad. "Is it possible to replenish the crew on Therum?"
"Yes, we plan to pick up Azari."
"Understood..."
Everyone present was watching with interest as Vakarian counted something.
"Captain?" the XO asked, glancing at the Turian, who was immersed in calculations.
"He calculates how much food he needs to buy on the ship so that there is enough for the flight."
"Oh, are we going to have a proper meal?" The pilot's voice rang out from the ceiling, full of anticipation.
"So far, only self-heating soldering." said the Turian.
"And coffee!" The Joker immediately added.
"OK." Garrus shrugged his shoulders. "And coffee."
And then a disgruntled Rex appeared on the CIC.
"Imrir, don't you have any proper food on your ship?"
Strangely enough, no one laughed or even smiled. The problem of food on this ship was painful for everyone, and people stopped understanding jokes on this topic on the third day of the flight.
"You're just in time." Vakarian delighted the Krogan. "Let's go get her now."
"Couldn't you have done it before?" Rex grumbled.
Garrus just shrugged his shoulders, but before he could respond, the soft chirping of an instrumentron came from his hand.
"I'm listening."
"Garrus, are you busy right now?" A contented voice rang out with a characteristic click of the respiratory system.
"Something happened?"
"How should I put it?" Volus laughed. "Here, listen to them."
There was a rustle, a click, and a man's panicked voice sounded in the silence of the СIC:
"Somebody help me! I'll... I'll tell you everything! I'll tell you, just get me out of here! You are welcome! Find Vakarian!"
We looked at each other in disbelief.
"Garrus, what did you do to make them want to confess so badly?" Dylan asked in surprise.
"Me? Nothing." The Turian replied, confused.
"Extreme, where is the broadcast coming from?"
"What do you think? From your apartment." and there's joy in their voice, as if they're having some kind of holiday there.
From the other side came the cheerful laughter of several reasonable people.
"Extreme, I actually quit."
"So, are we going to blow up these two now?" There was a skeptical question.
"So there are two of them?"
"As far as I understand- yes. So, are you coming, or are we blowing up the apartment?"
Garrus looked at me questioningly, and after receiving an affirmative nod, he replied to Volus:
"I'll be there in about forty minutes."
"Can't it be faster?"
"I'm at the dock of the Special Corps. It's a long way to get there."
"You'd better hurry up. Don't worry, if they've activated the sensors, the shields should be on by now. The apartment is blocked by sections, so that everything does not explode."
Volus chuckled and hung up. Before the connection was interrupted, we managed to hear another cry for help asking us to get "out of here" and the advice in return to sit and not twitch.
"Do you do this often?" Derg asked.
"Sometimes it happens."
"Sometimes it happens. Good streamlined definition. I wonder how many people did he turn in at C-SEC? Especially those who were willing to do anything to get them out of a booby-trapped apartment."
Then why did they climb?
"I want to see it!" Rex said.
Looking at the faces of Dylan and Darg, I saw complete solidarity.
"Go. But first we'll make an order."
"It can be made at the mooring site." Garrus prompted. "At the Special Corps terminal."
I didn't know there were such terminals at all.
No, of course I would have found a way out of this situation, but Garrus help and Nihlus advice helped me avoid unnecessary problems and find solutions to existing ones. There was no help from relatives: only Dr. Chakvas could give really worthwhile advice, and that wasn't always the case. Pressley? He's never been to the Citadel before, and he doesn't know much more about it than I do. It's good that I already have people I can rely on. At least in something.
***
The taxi dropped us off near a low-rise residential building, standing slightly off from the only green area in the area. Surprisingly, there weren't many people around the house: two cars with the C-SEC emblem, mobile shield installations, and three fighters in black and blue armor. A phlegmatic elkor was hovering near the entrance to the store. There were no onlookers or loitering people: apparently, such incidents with this house no longer surprised anyone.
"Garrus!" one of the C-SEC officers waved his hand in greeting.
Elkor drew attention to our approaching company and issued:
"Relieved. It's good that you're here. Alarmed. Will it shake badly?"
"It shouldn't." Garrus replied. "Shields will hold the explosion."
Elkor burst out with relief and stomped into his shop, and we entered the house. The elevator quickly took us to the fifth floor and let us out into a wide corridor where the doors of eight apartments opened. But judging by the red lights, no one lived on this floor.
"Have the neighbors moved out?"
Garrus turned his attention to me and answered after a short delay:
"Six months later, they began to leave. There are currently eight apartments in the house: three on the ground floor, four on the second floor and one on the tenth floor."
Garrus spoke slowly, clearly, considering every word. A hard, eventful day and a sleepless night did not pass without a trace for him: fatigue accumulated like an avalanche, his attention was distracted, his reaction was slow, and he was already thinking with difficulty. But he's going to climb into a booby-trapped house! Maybe I should really blow up the apartment out of harm's way? I wouldn't want this Turian to die because of a ridiculous mistake. The corridor turned, and we entered a small nook where six sentients were comfortably ensconced: a cute Asari, four Turians, and a Volus in a light gray space suit. We were noticed, and the people perked up.
"Vakarian, you're on time." Volus said.
"What's in there?"
"Two assholes broke into your house." A tall, dark-skinned Turian with bright red clan markings answered. "One in the kitchen, the other in the room."
"And the one who screamed?"
"In the kitchen."
"Let me guess." Garrus chuckled. "Did he open the refrigerator?"
The people laughed, and from the apartment they heard:
"Vakarian?!"
"Were you waiting for someone else?" This Vakarian said loudly.
"Are you back?"
"They called."
"So you didn't quit?"
"Why is that?"
"Garrus, did you really quit?"
Azari was taken aback by this news, looking incredulously at the sleepy guy.
"Yes, yesterday."
"Can you join our department?" Volus asked hopefully.
"Sorry, Extreme. I've already been hired." Garrus replied guiltily and spread his hands.
"To whom?"
"To me." I replied.
Volus looked at me and asked.
"And who are you, the Earth Clan?"
"Imrir Shepard. Spektr."
"Oh... did you want something, Spektr?"
"Do I want to? Rather, I don't want my sniper blown up in his own apartment by some useless jerk."
The acoustics in the empty hallway were oh so good, and the victim of his own curiosity, meditating in the kitchen, heard me perfectly. And then he howled:
"Vakarian! Let me out of here! I..." a short pause, convulsive tossing, fear, thirst for life, and despair. "I will tell you who is to blame for the latest sabotage in the Turian colonies! The performer is now at the Citadel!"
The brute.
It doesn't take any mentalism to figure out that Garrus is going after this idiot. It was enough just to look into the crystal blue eyes. For the sake of such information, he will go! Despite the fatigue and the risk.
"Garrus, you've been up for almost two days."
"Nothing." The Turian took a small automatic injector from his hip pocket and injected the drug into his neck under his jaw. "I have enough work for an hour."
A combat stimulator. It's amazing!
"I've thought of everything." Garrus added.
I didn't say anything to him, just nodded, making it clear that I accept his decision, even though I disagree with it. The stimulant worked: the guy started up, his movements lost their heaviness and regained their natural smoothness and speed.
"Extreme, what should I record his revelations on?"
Volus handed Garrus a small recording device with a clearly visible C-SEC logo.
"What have you already done?"
"So far, we've only scanned the apartment and disabled the motion sensors at the entrance."
"Did you touch the floor? It's full of pressure sensors."
"No, they didn't touch it."
"Good." Garrus activated the drone, went to the door, and got to work.
What he was doing was a mystery to me, hidden in the Darkness, but judging by the interested whispers of the sappers, he was reconfiguring some sensors to fit his parameters by removing them from the armor's computer.
He didn't waste time hacking them, apparently, he had already done it when he looked at the house last time. Bursting with satisfaction, Garrus crossed the threshold and followed a strange, twisting trajectory into the kitchen. And we heard an interesting conversation:
"Vakarian!"
There was so much joy in the man's voice, as if he had seen his innermost dream come true.
"Why did you open the refrigerator?" The cold, vibrating voice sounded with a slight tinge of annoyance. It also says: "Do not open, it is mined"! I wrote it especially for you idiots! In seven languages!
"But..."
""But" what?" There was a muffled chime. "What did you say about sabotage in our colonies?"
"Get me out and I'll tell you!"
There was a brief pause, anger flashed through his mind, and Garrus silently turned around and walked back into the living room.
"Vakarian!"
He turned around.
"What, "Vakarian"? Do you think I should take your word for it? "Get me out and I'll tell you."" The Turian snorted. "Do I look like a gullible idiot?"
"I... I..."
"Speak up. Otherwise, I'll just turn around and leave."
"You're not leaving me here!"
"Why is that?"
"You're..." The man I couldn't see stumbled, suddenly remembering that Garrus was no longer an employee of C-SEC and owed nothing to anyone.
"What am I?" Garrus cocked his head to the side, watching the man with interest. "I am now an ordinary resident of the Citadel. I have no right to enter a mined facility at all. And I actually have a Spectr of Advice waiting for me."
"I'll... I'll tell you."
"Tell me. No, I'm leaving."
Something beeped suspiciously in the kitchen, a wave of concentrated horror plowed through the mental, and... and the man spoke. Information flowed in a generous but confusing stream: who did what, where, and when. The man talked about known sabotage and terrorist acts, poisoning of goods, and so on. I didn't really understand the words. I was watching Garrus. The Turian was down on one knee, doing something in the kitchen doorway. The movements are smooth, calm, confident.
Garrus came back into the kitchen and disappeared from my field of vision.