Not much to say about this one haha xD it was a lot of fun to draw it, didn’t used any 3D for this one as well, just the good and old regular painting, hope you like it folks!
Story By: Hdctbpal
“Joker, lose this channel.” Shepard turned and walked off the QEC pad. God, that had felt good. Almost like the old days.
Shepard couldn’t quite hide the smile that tugged at one side of her mouth, the Illusive Man saw, before her image dissolved.
He rubbed his forehead. The cigarette in his hand was forgotten, its ashes dropping to the floor unnoticed. He supposed he had only himself to blame. He should have been forewarned by Virmire, and begun laying the groundwork sooner. Should have hinted to Shepard – and to the appropriate crew members, such as the salarian doctor – of the importance of salvaging the Collectors’ technology. Lawson had understood, he was sure of that, yet she had betrayed him.
Should he have let Lawson implant the control chip? He shook his head firmly. He was as sure of that decision now as he had been during Lazarus. Had he interfered with her that way, they might never have gotten this far. You didn’t tinker with success.
And this was a success, he reminded himself. The Collectors were gone, and so was the Alpha relay in the Bahak system. Shepard had bought them some more time. It would be his fault if he did not capitalize on it. And he had wasted enough time in self-recrimination.
First, there were personnel matters to attend to. He tapped his holo-display. “Get me Leng.”
Until now, Leng’s role in the organization had been limited. Ever since Shepard’s return from Ilos, the Illusive Man’s focus had been on the Reapers. Leng was one of his best operatives, but he worked best alone, and even Shepard could never have taken down Saren or the Collectors alone.
At the moment, Leng was on Bekenstein. It was part work and part vacation. Donovan Hock had been happy to sell firepower to anyone with change in their pockets – batarian terrorists, turian renegades, vorcha gangsters. Cerberus wanted to ensure his replacement was someone who took a longer view. One of Hock’s lieutenants had been sounded out and found to have the proper mindset. Leng was now disposing of the man’s rivals.
Vacation or not, Leng answered at once.
“Report,” the Illusive Man said.
“I’ve made two sales,” Leng said. “There’s one customer who still hasn’t bought anything, but I think he’s coming around.”
“Good work. Leave that one for now. Report to the home office. We have a new route for you.”
That told Leng two things. One, his new assignment was an important one, not to be entrusted even to an encrypted channel. Two, he was moving up in the organization. He had not been invited to the Illusive Man’s sanctum before – that privilege had been reserved for that bitch Lawson.
Leng’s voice held a rare flicker of interest. “Understood.”