A quick drabble dreamed up while thinking about Shepard's background. Before Thane is told of his diagnosis, after Shepard lives through Akuze, both are lost. Lost souls are often drawn together, if only for a moment.
Omega. Not his favorite place, but the turian had stopped for a night on the town, and he had no choice but to follow. It was probably better this way. One more poor soul with his neck snapped wouldn't seem out of place in a dump like this. A formal investigation likely wouldn't take place; as if they would find anything to start with.
Not as though he knew what the turian had done to warrent assasination. He had flipped through the folder, seen something about smuggling and fraud. It was small time compared to the evils he had seen before, men willing to walk into another man's home, attack a helpless woman and leave her lying there, her only son walking in to see her bleeding-
Fighting back a bout of solipsism, he instead stared into his drink, unable to feel the same rage he once did. A few years ago he would have been shaking; now, all he could do was take a sip of whatever the bartender had served him and glance at his target.
He was speaking with a few friends, laughing about something. His gaze wandered to a remote corner of the room and then back, one of the other men clearly egging him on. Thane watched as the turian wandered over, speaking to the inhabitant of the small booth in the shadows.
It was a human woman, clearly Alliance from her military blues. While plenty took their shore leave on the hub, few were bold enough to wear their colors. At first glance it would seem she was waiting for her companion to return; a second one told him all those empty glasses belonged to her. The target was attempting to smooth talk her, maybe thinking she was an easy score with all that alcohol in her system. The dismissive shake of her head proved otherwise.
He kept watching, unable to hear their conversation but picking up a couple of words based on the movement of their mouths. Turians were an aquired skill, but humans were quite simple-they showcased their emotions through their eyes, eyebrows, lips, teeth. It was a typical conversation, the turian trying to smooth talk the human out of her uniform and into his bed. The human, while intoxicated, wasn't falling for it and just wanted him to leave her alone. Typical, until his target made one statement comparing a part of his anatomy to a thresher maw. A simple, if crude comparison, but it had a strong effect on the human. Her face flickered through emotions-terror, pain, sadness, anger-and she raised her voice, giving him a few choice words that caused him to put his hands up in surrender, backing away.
Curious, but effective. He could strike on the turian's way home now, instead of waiting until morning. That rejection had soured the man's evening, as he bid farewell to his friends and departed. Thane waited a few moments before following, waiting for the precise moment to strike.
It was over the moment the target chose to walk down a dark alley. Why people kept doing that, he would never understand, but all it took was a quick neck snap to end the man's life. Prayer was not forsaken, and no less than five minutes later he was back on the main street, ready to retire to the cheap hotel room he had bought. Perhaps he would seek solace in his memory; it was all he had left.
A small bump brought him from his thoughts, and he looked down as a hurried "sorry" escaped the other person's mouth. It was the woman from the bar, the one in the shadows. Her face was fully visible for the first time, but he was only focused on one part. While her vision was clouded by intoxication, her emotions shone through so strongly that he felt his own heart ache. The fresh sadness, the numbness setting in; it was nothing less than a reflection. As quickly as she had appeared she had vanished, taking off down the street.
Without a second glance, he went in the opposite direction towards his empty hotel room, and his empty heart.