Day 167.
The steady hum of the blue reactor, repurposed from the Mako on the other side of her ice field estate, powers the red coil salvaged from the Normandy's GARDIAN laser. That, in turn, heats the tub, which she created from a hollowed out hull from one of the shuttles, providing excellent insulation for the ice which is now boiling, churning water.
Inside the impromptu hot tub, her arms resting on the sides, her feet up on the other end, Jane Shepard examines the red, black ribbed cylinder.
"Seriously," she says, "Ammo? They're using ammo now? What idiot thought up these things?"
She shrugs, slipping further into the hot tub. She tries not to think about how the water isn't boiling away because of how cold Alchera is, or how anyone in this water would normally have melted by now. Instead, she just enjoys herself. And stares at the heat sink for a moment longer, glancing from side to side.
"No. Might need it later."
She places it on the side of the hot tub, submerging herself fully, and rises out of the water. Her hair is now going down to between her shoulder blades, she notes. Which she notes is odd because her nails aren't getting any longer, and she hasn't had to shave.
"That and I've gone up a cup size, somehow," she says to herself, wiping the water from her eyes as she climbs out of the bath, her bare feet feeling faintly cool on snow cold enough to flash freeze unprotected flesh.
She clicks the side, the impromptu boiler turning off, the water sublimating off her as she reaches for the bowl of snow she would use to dry her face. And finds it held higher than it should. She looks at the bowl. Looks at the two fingered hand holding it.
And looks at the single glowing eye of the being the hand belongs to.
She screams, and kicks, a bare foot screaming through the air, as the synthetic shrieks in response and throws out its arms. Instead, her foot passes through a hole in the chest, hooking on the black, leather like material. She yelps, twisting, and drops to the ground, dragging the Geth on top of her.
The single glowing eye flicks from side to side. Metal plates surrounding the eye fold out in a faintly flower like shape.
"Shepard Commander," it says.
She blinks.
"...yes?"
The plates fold out again. Two plates, the ones on top, fold back in.
"You are alive," it says, "This is unexpected. We wished to speak with you."
She nods, slowly. Very slowly. Yes, she thinks. She's naked, trapped under a Geth, and it wants to speak with her.
Oh, what the hell.
"And 'we' are?"
"We are Geth."
She nods, slowly. Again. Well, she hasn't had someone to talk to in a while. And worse comes to worse she can kung fu him like she's done the last few groups of idiots who've come here.
"I'm sure you are. Can I get up?"
