"You're pissing a lot of people off, Shepard. I'd be careful, if I were you." Aria T'Loak's seated figure, clad in tight, synthetic leather accentuated by heavy weaponry at the waist, glided downward inch by inch – elbows soon resting on folded knees, her blue chin connected with the knuckles of a gloved hand. The intent had been to stare through Shepard; as if she was scrying for the female human's soul – no way she'd ignore its power, its stubbornness. When stern Commander refused to buckle underneath the crimelord's intense gaze, Aria warily smiled.
"Pissing people off... it's what I'm good at. What do you expect me to say? My question to you is why you're so willing to give up this information." The human's slack posture reflected feigned composure – Aria saw beneath that internal barrier; the Commander was hell bent on releasing bottled fury. Humans had such predictable actions for any emotion, Aria's come to realize, but Shepard knew indifference better than most species.
"I won't underestimate your capabilities – much better to keep peace, between you and I. Besides, you've helped me in the past, with my Patriarch and that handy information leak. Those mercenaries got the fucking hint right away. Don't fuck—"
"With Aria. Yeah, I got it. So, should I be worried about this so-called assassin that's after me? Sounds like he's an amateur."
Assassins – funny, she just got done recruiting Thane Krios, but to actually have one hunting her down? That led many things to rattle her thoughts – a kitten unraveling a massive ball of yarn without mercy. Who, firstly, would be so stupid to hire an assassin to come after her – and secondly, why would the assassin agree? Everyone knew Shepard once she threw on that armor and helmet; guns were going to be blazing right behind her.
At this point, the asari sat back from her slouch, fingers quick to interlace at her midsection. The gaze hardened as granite, but her complex smile grew. She knew more than what she was letting on, she always did. Aria saw her fair share of assassins in the early days; idiots who desperately wanted to remove her from power, claim her royal throne on top of Omega's festering pile of oozing trash. It might not have been glamorous, her life, but she had the right people – the right skills to ensure her victorious.
"Your assassin is a she. Oddly enough, a fellow human. Whatever information there is on her has been kept under the rug, but from my sources, she originated from Earth, like you. I wouldn't put it beyond you to make enemies with your own people..." Dry chuckle rose on her tongue, Aria immediately dismissed dead humor with a shrug and blank stare. "No one comes to mind, Shepard? Can't think of anyone, a certain female, that's out for your blood?" She paused momentarily to absorb the stiffness that suddenly came from Shepard's legs. "Mmm, your past is no rumor. Gang life, drugs, war, betrayal. Death. The orphan girl became a cold blooded killer, ruthless in every way."
Shepard didn't flinch after hearing this, in fact, she's gotten fairly decent at blocking the asari's poisonous voice from her head. It'd be unfair if she said Aria was all talk and no teeth, she wasn't so sure about the last one. It takes serious effort and determination to stay King in an unruly kingdom, Aria's been at this game for years. Recollection occurred briefly; Aria's message claimed urgency, as to not jeopardize the mission, but upon realizing what was after her this time, the human exaggerated an annoyed sigh- until she heard Earth.
That stiffness in her limbs melted off the bone – she had a cover to play, and by damned she'd play it. Aria's cold stare was met beyond the glowing blue beams that engulfed the Commander's head; freshly coated in crimson and black paints, Shepard resembled a demonic angel torn from the celestial skies. She chose to wear the Deathmask helmet this time around for good reason – it was foreboding to look at, rarely did anyone ever try to make visual contact through its' metallic security.
She struggled to forget that part of her life – grueling tasks performed under gang-based leadership. Drugs were the big thing back in older day, and with the rise of new technology, smuggling soon became an effective way to pay the bills. Orphan, she wouldn't deny it. The memories, although yellow and tarnished at the edges, subconsciously floated in the mess of Prothean beacon images. The people of her past were dead and buried; female... assassin? Who? It had to be a set up, someone beyond that frame of fake friendships – a money-driven criminal that'd hunt even anti-heroes.
Shepard's awkward silence dragged out a harsh laugh from Aria.
"Going down the whole list, are you? Take your time. I have no interest in the assassin's ordeal, hence why I'm being a … good friend, and telling you. I've dealt with this before myself, so let me offer you some advice: anyone suspicious – shoot." She emphasized her last word by extending hand upward in an elegant flow, as two fingers straightened and made point at Shepard's helmet. Her thumb appeared 'cocked,' the other two digits curled against palm - and while Shepard merely glared, she understood the asari's gesture; a gun.
"Where was this woman last seen?" Shepard deliberately slowed the conversation by choosing words carefully. Aria was only willing to say so much, and knowing this, she needed to pull out the information piece by piece – before the 'breaking' point, anyway.
"Yes, she's been through here. I don't have any reports of her leaving, either. Be on your toes, is all I can offer. I'd hate to see something so trivial jeopardize your entire mission." Aria cooed in response, her angular face tilted away from the human. "But, forewarning: don't make a mess. I already know what your intentions are, and I'm willing to risk giving you rights to roam without trouble. Just please... be courteous, don't fuck my shit up." And with that final warning, which Shepard took mostly as threat, Aria stood from her leather couch and dismissed the human with an evil, teeth-filled grin. "Have fun and good hunting, as the krogans say."
Garrus was a patient turian. Hell, all turians usually were – had to be, especially when they waited on their superiors to finish "girl talk," as Shepard called it. Assuming it wasn't exactly how it sounded, 'females talking about female stuff,' he pondered why he and the drell were left in the dark, shooed away in a corner of a bar where asari dancers begged for tips with flirty smiles and generous showing of ample cleavage.
His armored back pressed hard against the wall, a typical stance for him as he slouched against metal; gauntlet hands were locked at forearms once they neatly crossed over an exhaling chest. Sniper rifle clicked during a shifting shoulder; not so much a second look at the giggling women around, he seemed transfixed on the back of Shepard's protected head as she discussed business with Aria. Garrus didn't trust the despicable asari; a governor, she may have been, but she allowed her own people to suffer in the wastes of disease and poverty. He oughta just find a suitable rafter and cap that egotistical bitch himself-
"They have been conversing for exactly twenty-three minutes, now." Thane's raspy voice broke over the twisting beat of bass music and drunken shouting. Garrus' blue optics searched for the nearby drell; moments of glaring through shadow, Thane could be found in a similar pose, only his hands tightly clenched behind straightened back. A more professional take on the turian's lazy posture... how annoying.
"You've been keeping track?" Garrus' response came out more like a grunt. A bit impersonal, really. Thane ironically sounded like EDI...
"Yes. Focusing on the time allows me to meditate properly – even in places filled with channeling sound." Thane stated matter-of-factly; smug information, that's how the turian saw it.
"Suppose that can be useful in such a loud place like Omega. Vorcha screams down the alley... drunk mercs yelling..." Garrus trailed off with a visible shoulder shrug. He thought twice about asking Shepard why she decided to bring the drell along. He'd been recruited no more than a week ago, and already he's assisted with three small assignments. … Was that jealousy talking? Garrus' attention rippled away from Thane to resume idle watch on asari and human- don't be stupid. She can bring whoever she wants. You're lucky she even brings you.
"You have to admire Shepard's ability to remain unaffected by Aria and her thugs; strong back gives physical truth to her determination – shoulders, although relaxed, hold a certain... tension. Always alert – focused. A testament to the humans, I've never met one quite like her." Thane continued on as Garrus lifted arm to rub the back of his taloned hand against dipping forehead.
Yeah, he could agree to all that, it was true, but why did a sudden flare of anger build- I've never met one quite like her. Hard to place that tone in the drell's voice; respect, as well as precious admiration seeped from every syllable, but something... else. Attraction? Jealousy reared its ugly head again, and Garrus violently beat it away – one mental asskicking later, he averted gaze. Aria suddenly stood from her platform, and Shepard took that as cue to pivot and leave.
"I don't think anyone's met someone like Shepard..." Inaudible words for the most part, Garrus narrowed his attention to the steel floor beneath them.
Thane moved from shadowy hole in the corner just as Garrus righted posture and pushed away from his own perch. Down the steps she bounced, all before coming to a direct halt in front of the aliens. He couldn't see her face, but the turian knew her body language well enough by now – she was apprehensive.
"What was that all about?" Obvious, his question. He expected no less from Shepard; she knew when to keep secrets, and when to tell them.
"Best not to talk in open about it, let's find a place away from the center." Cocking her head aside, she peered up at the turian through those glimmering dual lights, then nodded at Thane. "I think he'd have a better idea on where the shadows grow thickest – am I right, Thane?" Faint joke, the commander murmured a chuckle at Garrus' perplexed expression. "Human idiom, Garrus."
"I- do see several areas that are remote. Follow me." The drell bobbed his head with affirmation and led them away; down a dark corridor that was adjacent with the lower level of Omega, Thane's location was a ventilation room filled with clattering duct pipes and plentiful shadow. No one meandered by, and the area was big enough so that all three could safely fit in its nook without major issue.
"Alright..." Shepard heaved a mechanical grunt as fingers flicked her helmet's latches near angled chin. In one clean 'pop!', steamy plumes of purified air gushed from the helmet's vents; she yanked off the Deathmask with much relief plastered on her darkened face. It got a little hot, trying to pull off the bad ass look. Garrus could plainly see the rough, ember-glowing scars that were etched deep against white, gaunt cheeks. Pluming red locks drooped lifelessly at a clammy forehead – almost made her look sick, from how unkempt her shoulder-length hair was. She looked paler, too; his last memory of her recalled those icy blue eyes – frozen, wilted. No longer did they brim with a compassionate aura that felt welcoming. Her experiences changed that old perspective, much as Sidonis' betrayal changed him.
The drell was eyeballing her, as well; Garrus caught that eerily black stare drinking in the woman's facial expression. Did she know they were gawking at her? Lucid eyes flickered between Garrus and Thane with a scrutinized look. Uh...
"There's an assassin after me, to be blunt. Aria said she's a human; reasons behind wanting me dead, and the supposed person that hired her, are all unknown." She kept calm and collected as she explained, but Garrus felt his own body temperature drop within the bends of low octaves.
Whaaat? An assassin? Mass confusion prickled his throat, but it didn't stop him from … blinking. "Is that it? Seriously?" He nearly fell back against Thane with trapped laughter. "An assassin-"
"It would be in Shepard's best interest if we take this threat seriously. Not all assassins are incompetent or inexperienced." Thane cut in abruptly; Garrus naturally bristled.
"I wasn't resurrected again to die by the hands of a moronic assassin with a death wish." She scoffed mildly, but held quick eye with Thane. "That's where you come in. I imagine you'd know how to get in her head, think how she does. The faster we take her out, the better. I'd like to get this recruiting shit over with." Shepard tucked the helmet beneath an arm, all before glancing hesitantly over the shoulder.
"I will try, Shepard, but not all assassins think alike. One may choose a duct to hide in, another may stake out beneath a table- or, another could try to seduce the one they are about to kill. Different methods work with different species – and genders." The drell offered a soft smirk. "But I will do my best- shall I perhaps go mingle, see if I can discover a possible lead from one of my contacts? Assassins generally know when a hit is about to be performed by another."
"Hm, let's go with that. Aria thinks she may still be in Omega, possibly gathering as much information as she can. It's up to you, Thane. Me and Garrus will poke around down here and interrogate some people of our own."
. . . . . .
For Garrus, watching Shepard "work" never got boring. There was always an educational experience to learn; be it on how to get a batarian info-slinger begging for his life, or the right words and gestures to scare a krogan merc to near tears. … If they could cry, anyway. The turian cocked his head inquisitively – although he stood guard around the alleyway on Omega's lower floor, he could plainly hear Shepard grunt in between furious kicks to an unfortunate Vorcha.
Seemed rather pointless, since the scavengers could rapidly self-regenerate, but that didn't stop them from feeling the pain of breaking bones – over and over again.
"Still don't wanna talk? Hmm..." Shepard stood over the bleeding Vorcha with a glazing look of impatience. Backed in a corner, he'd been spotted after talking to several info-movers, as Liara called them. Paid underlings that transported info packets to bigger buyers, the current topic of the day was 'assassin.' Apparently this human was being sought by all kinds of people – mostly corrupted business executives who wanted to use her. This particular Vorcha wasn't as brainless as his brothers; he knew exactly what Shepard needed, but how far was she willing to go to pry it out of him?
"Pleaazzeeee! Stoooop! I know nothing! Nothing!" The vorcha bellowed while clutching his swollen, red-soaked eye. She had effectively pistol-whipped him; the injury was healing, of course.
"See, you keep saying that." Shepard's shoulders gave a dismissive shrug; hands back on hips, she cocked her helmeted head over to Garrus. "Ya hear him, right? He must think we're fucking idiots because we-" Punt to the vorcha's face caused a frightened screech to rumble from the creature's mouth. "Saw-" Foot stomp to the throat silenced the yelp. "You-" Oh, this was where even the turian cringed. Each word grunted by his commander appeared to be emphasized through brutal punishment; the vorcha's arm was shattered upon a crushing heel to his forearm. "Talking!" The task at hand was very harsh, Shepard would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying this power trip. Sweat dribbled down her chin under that armor, her breathing labored and voice trembling with festering rage.
"T-turian... s-top her..." The vorcha pathetically whined up at Garrus. Insubordination won an almost-fatal head stomp. Blood exploded under her boot – a curling, misshapen red pool formed as she retracted the limb, and yet the Vorcha still lived, his tough skin torn asunder by abuse. Gasping for breath, he quivered helplessly, knees tucked to chest; the bleeding stopped seconds later. Pity.
"Stop her? Why the hell would I wanna do that?" Garrus spat angrily; he, too, being equally annoyed as his commander. Visor and watchful eye turned to her then; she popped her knuckles, a funny human habit. "Shepard, if he knew anything, I'm sure he would have said by now..."
"Nah... that's what I thought at first, but he's more afraid of his boss than he is of me. Gonna have to change that, aren't we?" Shepard, for being female, was surprisingly strong for her species – and gender. The vorcha, which was roughly her size in height, was now pinned by Shepard's clenching fist and the wall. He dangled – suffocating growls attempted to intimidate the woman, but it failed. She released him suddenly; bent knee collided with his stomach, while forearm whipped forward to smash an elbow against what was assumed as his nose. More blood! Dirty crimson splashed violently along her metallic upper torso in a series of sprays.
"S-SSSTOP! Oh'a... okay, I t-tell you who buy froms me. Just... stop..." Vorcha were unable to weep as humans, yet this one trembled – a decaying leaf blowing in the wind. He wanted to look incredibly feeble, weak; Shepard was the alpha leader at the moment.
Well, that made sense, even if the method for achieving necessary information was beyond the borderline of cruelty. No worse than C-Sec's new take on interrogation, probably. Garrus allowed his brain to engulf this technique; mental note filed away for later use.
"I'm glad we finally understand each other, Vorcha. Now, who bought that nice little packet of data? It contains valuable stuff – like, maybe the name of a female assassin floating around on Omega?" Shepard was grinning ever so faintly under metal protection. Lucky thing, as Garrus might've witnessed this evil streak within his commander – it grew day by day.
"Need... more-" Their victim dissolved under a hacking cough. In truth, there were actually several female assassins lurking in the shadows; Thane was speaking with one.
"More what? Info? Like I fucking know. You, however, do. Now spill either the name of the assassin, or the name of the buyer who wanted her for hire." Shepard's impatience reached its boiling point. She withdrew her pistol – a speed that Garrus had trouble following – and promptly took aim at the Vorcha's skull. Easy shot, point blank in the center of his head...
"No! N-n-no, I tells you! Pleaazze..." Hissing polluted the Vorcha's squawking. "No name of- assassin, buyer c-called Q'enar Avrino... t-turian..."
A turian? She shot a glance at shrugging Garrus; Avrino sounded vaguely familiar; politics.
"Ah... I don't know about the full name, but 'Avrino' makes me want to gag – so, maybe political? Why he'd be in Omega though is beyond me, unless it's solely for recruiting … special services." Garrus confessed seconds later after rubbing the side of his head thoughtfully.
"Special services, huh?" Hint of sexual innuendo! Shepard darkly chuckled; it took the turian several seconds to register that something... unprofessional had just been said.
"Uah... not what I meant, Shepard. Your mind's in the gutter today- isn't that the saying?" Garrus grumbled defensively.
"Always in the gutter..." The pistol lowered slowly, but there was strong hesitation in slackened muscle. If she released the Vorcha, he might flee and warn the buyer, or possibly, the assassin. Word spread like wild fire here; wouldn't be that surprising if the human already knew Shepard was floating around, searching for her...
The gurgling Vorcha shuddered while trying to erect himself up in to a slouching sit; peering between elongated claws glimmered that blood-soaked optic – true fear underlaid that tormented expression of gnashing fangs and dribbling, foamy saliva.
"Y-you let Krunf go now? I go... not be seen here again, pleaaazze. Avrino tells you more... he drinks lots, with naked asari- lowest level..."
Naked asari? Sounded definitely like a corrupted politician, all right, but what was with this trend of scummy turians? First Saren, then that warden from Purgatory...
Garrus felt a twang of pity for the creature a moment later. It wasn't like the Vorcha were an intelligent species to begin with; Krunf feared for his life – and Shepard's ruthlessness might just stomp out that flickering soul flame. He glanced toward his commander when silence answered Krunf's question, an ominous shadow that promised quick death-
Anyone suspicious – shoot. Aria's corrosive words ate away logic for a split second; no, not today. "Don't make me regret it. Get the hell out of here." Shepard holstered the pistol slowly at her hip. Krunf shrieked and hobbled up to his feet before tearing past turian and human with faltering speed. He was limping, clutching his arm, even, but the wounds lessened to meager scars. Mere seconds and Krunf was gone around the corner, leaving nothing but a blood trail to follow.
A turian politician who liked naked asari would more or less be found in the bar, Shepard assumed. An irritable kick to neighboring wall clanged against her boot – pent up aggression escaped the human's limb in a deafening pop. So much for respecting Aria's property.
Garrus questionably cocked his head as Shepard composed herself through various curses. The hell?
"Ah... you alright, Shepard? For a moment, I didn't think you were really going to let him go. Strange to see you have a change of heart." All humor, it was, but Shepard apparently read deep between the lines. She scoffed mildly and upraised a loose shoulder.
"Not gonna bother wasting ammo on him." Momentary pause filled her aching lungs. "I shouldn't be that surprised, but I am. If it's not the fucking Geth, Reapers and Collectors, it's a human assassin chasing my ass." And when she finished, Garrus thought he heard watery compunction in the woman's gruff tone.
He, on the other hand, wasn't that surprised. Shepard was famous and infamous, all at once – a dangerous, twisted union of complete opposites. Given her determined, yet brutal nature, she acquired many allies, but also countless enemies. Garrus, without much complaint, watched his commander step on the toes of those she found inferior, only to correct an injustice shortly after for the lesser. It created balance – a strained one, but a balance, nonetheless. In this day and age, balance was a hard thing to achieve, overall. Maybe this gave credit to his dedication – his reason for following her wordlessly.
She did what she thought she had to do, and repercussions for such actions would come to pass.
"You're always going to be ridiculously popular, even among riffraff... but you can handle it. You can handle just about anything." No reason to mask his support, he figured. Naturally, she ceased the brisk walk and canted her head askew. Shepard's usual wit dried up – puckering lips fastened a crooked frown; she often considered his advice on particular subjects, but on opinions regarding her? For once, she took it to heart value.
Gauging her for reaction was pointless, and also impossible. That damn Deathmask encased expressive human features; like a shell. Proud woman behind an almost indestructible barrier. Shepard's breathing appeared to relax, Garrus realized, and when she finally spoke, a hint of appreciation accented the tip of her tongue.
"Thanks, Garrus." She truly meant it; Garrus confessed a faint nod. Awkward silence – it lasted too long for the turian's liking-
"Now, what do you say about finding Avrino and shaking him around like a rag doll? Wonder if Thane's found anything..." Shepard picked up where they last left off; dip of the head, she waved her companion to follow while taking a sharp turn around the alleyway corner. Even though Krunf screamed bloody murder, not a soul dared to shoot glances at turian and human. Fellow Vorcha were silent, heads down, irritable clicks and hisses expressed displeasure.
"Thane? Yeah, we have some info. Meet us on lower level floor in Afterlife asap." Radio sparked quiet static as the two discussed briefly the occurrences; none of his associates were willing to talk, and this concerned the drell heavily. The assassin seemed to work more than just independently – she recovered her own information on targets, rather than relying on outside resources.
"The vorcha you questioned said a turian requested information on this assassin?" Thane was traveling through duct work – hisses of static infected Shepard's sensitive ears.
"Pretty much. We think he's a seedy politician. Name doesn't sound that familiar, but he could be a new face, and by breaking new ground, he has to kill a few fellow men to gain leadway. Strange though, that he hires a human for the job. She must be pretty damn good at what she does... but she's got no chance against us. We'll be waiting outside of the club."
"Understood. Meet you soon."
Call it gut instinct. Shepard doubted Avrino has any connection with her, but he may know the assassin adequately enough; that's what she wanted. In truth, the human didn't give two shits why Avrino wanted to hire the human; in fact, none of it mattered. Killing the woman was the quickest (and only) solution. Avrino was just as expendable, when push came to shove. Expedited steps provoked Shepard onward to their next destination: the downing spiral of the sleaziest bar in the galaxy – Afterlife.