[Tasale, Exarch Station] Bad Medicine

Spinning the stylus around her index finger, Ana sniffed it for a moment and pursed her lips before dragging a few items on her datapad. This would have looked at least somewhat professional – if it weren’t for the fact that the transparent background made it obvious she was grinding on a heavily modded Galaxy of Fantasy server.

“Welllll, 'fore you do thaaat, there’s a couple things you should know,” she said, tugging each word with a drawl and tapping the nametag. “This little ensemble here? Well, it’s not just for show – I pulled it off a girl I saw walkin’ outta here, see? Poor girl’s called in sick with the flu and just can’t get out of bed…”

This was technically true – if you considered “the flu” as a synonym for “side effects of a Monte Carlo Fishnet,” a designer drug that hit the European underworld shortly before the Reapers arrived on the scene. As of right now, the Real Dr. Elaine Cartier was buried under a mountain of blankets, looking forlornly at a trash can next to her and moaning something about driftwood sculptures.

“Anyways – oh not now, Tervisz, I’m at work – the tag’s got all the clearance she’s got – so if she’s been playing around in quarantine…?”

She clicked the stylus suggestively and winked.

"All right. Hang on, give me a second here..."

This was not an unsolvable problem by any means. There were dozens of components to a potential solution close by, many of which the team had already suggested. Mentally, Shirin visualized it as a swirl of floating images, languidly orbiting her head and waiting to be pulled out and examined.

"Aliquam's running interference outside for us," she said, kneading her thumbs against her forehead and quietly collating all the possibilities. "We could theoretically do a network override if we had a terminal, but we'd have to ensure that it wouldn't be found while we had it bugged. Distracting the guards would let us get by without incident, and then there's bound to be an emergency exit on the quarantine floor that we could use, but...hrm. That introduces a lot of potential unknowns, random elements, uncontrollables..."

Ah. There was the connecting link.

"I think I've got something. All right. Analina's already tagged for security clearance, and Kirok's a krogan so he fits in as the hired help. We send one or both through the checkpoint. The guards are distracted dealing with that, we get in position, and then do a kill-and-replace. At least two of us stay up top to replace them and man the checkpoint - meanwhile we've got an entire security room to ourselves, so Jil has a place to drone into the network without the chance of being discovered or interrupted. We can direct traffic, so to speak, from there while whoever's down on quarantine looks for the pathogen."

She made a note to check the species on whoever was currently manning the security checkpoint - fortunate that they had a relatively diverse team at hand.

"How's this sounding? I'm open to input here."

Meanwhile outside...

Aliquam, who for the occasion had painted his entire face with white face paint something that was both common and still covered his actual pattern but was otherwise totally dressed normally, was surrounded by three nurses...

"...and this is my boy one week after he was born..."

He showed another pic of his son, "He has his grandfathers mandibles. And here's my second nephew once removed when he was sent off to boot... man, that's like ten years ago, he survived the war, he was on cruiser fighting Reapers while they were doing their stuff in London."

There was more than one way to run interference.

"Ah got no problem with it," Kirok drawled as he adjusted the costume. Hells, it was hot in that damned thing. "Just point me inna right direction an' I'll take care of it. We gonna need enny o these?"

He gestured at the balloons full of knockout gas, innocent and appealing in their tight rubber spheres.

The plan appears sound, albeit not without risk.
Nothing's without risk, and that's as close to an endorsement as I've ever heard you give.

"That works for me - so long as I have a secure location to do my thing, I'm okay with it. I would rather we complete a mission without unnecessary murder, though. I mean, it makes things easier, but we have the gas and so on."

He paused.

"Ensemble thinks it's a good plan too."

"Well, the balloons should help us with that. The trick is going to be getting the gas out of the balloons and taking down the guards with it without...you know, being obvious about trying to pop balloons in their faces."

Shirin eyed the 'helium' tank dubiously.

"The ventilation system won't accommodate someone of our sizes, so no chance of...I don't know, throwing balloons into the security room or something. I guess we could plant the tank and loosen the valve, but we don't have a way to contain it for a quick effect, and if it leaks out into the lobby and starts knocking out the staff you bet your ass they'll investigate."

"Look, I hadta git 'em inna buildin' somehow. Ain't no one gonna let no elcor in with a giant tank labeled 'knockout gas.' Not after what happened with Maury th' Moxie Magician last year."

Kirok shuddered. The memories of that night were still fresh.

"But, hrrrm. Don't they got, like, messenger drones an' shit here? We could... have th' drones go inta th' vents an'... pop 'em? I unno."

Suddenly, a new voice.

Either everyone's translator was glitching, or Cerastes, in the midst of his drug-induced sleep, was speaking completely clearly. "Disperse the balloons to individiuals on the basis that it is for a charity or for the support of pediatric patients' morale."

One red eye slit open, staring blankly at the assembly. It was unclear whether or not he was actually conscious.

Ana looked from one drell to the other and sucked at the tip of her stylus.

"Makes sense."

"Go the fuck to sleep, Cerastes."

A pause.

"...it does make sense, though. Think you can hand those to the guards, Kirok? Ana, maybe go with him to provide some legitimacy?"

They couldn't see it because of the elcor mask, but Kirok's smile at "handle the guards" was joyful and menacing.

Instead, all they saw was an elcor hunch over chuckling to itself.

"Ngh."

Apparently, he was not entirely awake after all, for Cerastes evidently went the fuck to sleep upon being ordered to do so. At least, it seemed that way.

“Well, I’m up for it if Chuckles there is,” said Ana, grinning. “All we need’s a way to have ‘em all go off at the same time.”

There was a few seconds’ pause, after which:

“Oh, Jil-lyyyy…”

That was it. The mere suggestion that he solve the problem on the spot was enough to send Jil'Korah ranting.

"So let me get this straight. You want me to design, build, and replicate a half dozen devices for remotely popping balloons, all from within the confines of this hospital room in the next fifteen minutes or so?"

That was an oddly specific length of time.

"What do you people think I am, exactly? I suppose whatever it is I make here, on the spot, in this hospital room for you will have to be flashy and pretty and maybe even re-sellable after the fact, because otherwise it would be disappointing? You really think that a quarian of all people can create some kind of ridiculous insect-drone that can generate a tiny mass effect field to keep it from popping a balloon with all of its exposed parts until we send a kill signal?"

No, mass effect fields required energy flow of a certain scale, that wouldn't work.

"Or maybe you think I can make something we could tie into the drawstrings on those balloons..."

He was speaking more slowly, now, though whether because he was thoughtful or out of breath was anybody's guess.

"Say, I don't suppose any of you have an incendiary mod on your guns? Someone else did get a gun through security, right? I mean, I've got mine since the compartments on my suit are shielded but I'd rather not take it apart. Had it for a long time."

Kirok looked at the others... then unzipped his elcor costume and held out his shotgun. On it was an incendiary mod, throwing a red glow around the highlights of the weapon.

"Dat do it?"

This earned Jil and Kirok a blank look.

“Well, I was just thinkin’, like, a remote-set patch with a pushpin in it, but if ya wanted t’get all fancy about it…”

Sometimes Shirin thought that perhaps her tech knowledge wasn't nearly enough, that they put more pressure on Jil'Korah to deal with most of their mechanical concerns than was entirely healthy (for him or anyone else).

This was one of those times, and she laid a cautious hand on the quarian's shoulder as he slowly dropped out of 'enraged beleaguered specialist' and into 'you know, that might actually work'. When Kirok produced the shotgun, that meant Jil was probably about to be occupied, though, and so the drell headed over to do her own thing.

Her pistols had been disassembled into six different components, alternately stored in her stealth suit, ridge clips, the vase for the flowers she'd brought Cerastes, Kirok's elcor costume, and the balloon tank. After a brief pilgrimage around the room, Shirin set to work assembling the Paladin and a brand new R-5 Cossack, complete with suppressor barrels.

In this kind of environment the suppressors were probably more wishful thinking than anything else; either gun would still make a noise like someone lifting a big block of synth fiber and then slamming it down hard. Still, it was better than a full-on gunshot. Little degrees like that could make a difference at key points.

The quarian reached out eagerly to take the shotgun, then stopped mid-grab and looked blankly at the asari.

"Oh. Yeah, uh, that'd work. There's probably a noticeboard around here somewhere we could find a bunch of pushpins."

Ensemble, please set up a reminder for later, 'incendiary balloons'.
Very well, though I fail to foresee a situation in which such a device is useful.
This one?
Fiery explosions would have been counterproductive and likely resulted in numerous deaths.
...Point.
Even assuming this situation would benefit from 'incendiary balloons', the likelihood of this situation arising again is slim.
Okay, I get it. I was just caught up in the moment.
You are bound by the laws of physics. You are caught up in every moment as it passes.
That would seem to imply... No, this is not the time. I have work to do.

He left the shotgun in the hands of the krogan and set to work.

Shirin had memorized her surroundings in the hallway outside (it was impossible not to, being a drell), and looking back, the only notice boards she remembered were based entirely around digital readouts or audio VIs. Fortunately, improvising was rarely an issue for her.

Digging through the Magical Bandolier O Tricks, she produced a platinum caltrop (one of twenty) and held it between thumb and forefinger. The spined caltrops were three-pointed constructs, designed to point straight no matter where they landed - including walls, since the sides were magnetized - and being small enough to make spotting them difficult, it'd be easy to fit one onto a balloon.

"No pins readily available outside - will this work? Let me know where you want me to brace or hold it or whatever."

Subconsciously, she may have been trying to apologize a little for the circumstances that had caused the quarian's frustration.

Kirok took back the shotgun and hid it in the huge elcor costume. Goddamn, this thing was getting itchy. And hot. 'Guaranteed comfort,' my ass.

"Look, I ain't naturally an impatient sort," Kirok said despite all evidence to the contrary, "But kin we get a move on? If I hafta spend one more minute in this costume, I'm gonna suffocate."