The automatic door closed with a barely audible hiss behind him and he sighed with relief, leaning back against the cool metal surface, closing his eyes and allowing the fatigue to finally seep into his muscles. It had been a long, stressful day of putting up with Anderson's fits of rage and grief over Shepard's death. The bitch was finally done and he couldn't be happier about it. News about her demise – and the second Normandy's destruction – had reached them around noon that day and all hell had broken loose.
As far as Donnel Udina was concerned, his new allies had done their job beautifully. Shepard had been a thorn in his side for years now, cavorting around the galaxy, shooting up people and ships, spreading malicious, ridiculous rumours, causing more trouble than she was worth. And when she was done, he was the one left to clean the mess. When he had heard of her demise two years ago, he had been quite pleased, privately. Only she got better. Hopefully, this time the condition would stick.
They had got the news almost a week after the actual event had happened, the Normandy having been on a long reconnaissance run deep in the Terminus systems which meant that they had no communication with them. Shepard had grown more and more paranoid in the recent months after her supposed trip to the center of the galaxy. But even her paranoia hadn't saved her from the surprise attack.
Udina took off his shoes and padded barefoot into his spacious, luxuriant apartment. Despite the weariness, he felt quite pleased with the news they received today. Hopefully, this second disappearance would shake Anderson's position enough so he could take over, eventually. If it didn't, he was sure his allies would be quite willing to arrange an incident for the current human council member as well.
He remembered he had an excellent bottle of aged Bushmills whiskey in his living room. Yes. It was just what he needed.
He shrugged off his official coat and stretched, pleased to be free of the heavy, restrictive garment, then headed for his living room. There was a single turned on light in a corner, right above the table with the various bottles of alcohol he stored there. He reached for the whiskey, about to break the seal and open the bottle when he noticed that the liquid inside wasn't as much as it had been when he bought it. He tried the cap and realized that the seal had been broken. A careful inspection of the collection of crystal glasses showed that one of them was missing as well.
"This is very good." An infuriatingly familiar voice came from the shadows to his left. He turned sharply and growled "Lights!" The area was immediately bathed in artificial light, revealing a tall, slender woman sprawling on one of his loveseats, her long legs propped up on the coffee table. She pale, her fiery hair severely pulled up in a bun, the freckles on her face almost obscured by the collection of scars she had received after her augmentation by Cerberus. Eyes that had once been brilliant blue now glowed in artificial crimson, set in sunken eye sockets. The woman was dressed as a civilian – a dark blue, form-fitting jumpsuit that emphasized more solid muscle than curves, and it occurred to him that this was the first time he'd seen her out of her armor. She appeared unarmed.
"Shepard." He said flatly.
She lifted the tumbler she held in her hand.
"Cheers." And took a large gulp.
"You're…"
"Alive?" she finished for him, a sardonic smile stretching her mouth. "Again?" she finished the whiskey and slammed the glass on the coffee table. "Disappointed?"
His eyes roamed over her figure once again, but didn't find any visible weapons. His apartment was situated in a high security zone of the Presidium, and there were sensors everywhere. Still, that didn't mean that he was safe. Shepard was perfectly capable of breaking him like a twig if she so desired. He took a step back, carefully calculating his next move. There was a gun in a spring-loaded hidden compartment by the ice dispenser. One more step and it'd be within his reach. His allies would take care of her body afterwards.
"Shouldn't I be surprised? We received reports of the Normandy's destruction."
Her grin had disappeared and now her lips were pressed in a thin white line.
"Reports of my demise, obviously, have been greatly exaggerated." She leaned forward. "I will give it to you though – we didn't expected a Reaper to show up out of nowhere in a random system of the Terminus region. So tell me. When did their agents contact you?"
He drew himself up to his full height.
"How dare you, coming to my home like this, accusing me…"
"Oh, spare me the righteous indignation, Udina. I have very good sources. I know you've been communicating with several unfamiliar entities for the past few months." She hissed. The red eyes flashed in fury. "I've always considered you to be an opportunistic, backstabbing little weasel, but not even I thought you'd turn traitor."
"Traitor?" he said. "Hardly. You've been causing so much trouble, Shepard, and I had to take measures and do damage control. You're running loose in the Terminus, about to spark a war at any moment, continuing to spread these unsubstantiated rumours. Considering the danger you present to Citadel space, you're the traitor, not I!"
Shepard just stared at Udina's leathery face for a few long, bitter moments.
"So you admit it?" she asked softly. "You admit you sold me out."
He did not answer, meeting her eyes head on. She paused, considering her options. She could use Udina, use him to feed the enemy misinformation, spy on them even. On the other hand, she had no guarantee that Udina was not already indoctrinated, and therefore uncontrollable. That was a risk she could not take. Her gaze moved above Udina's shoulder and her fingers tapped softly against the cool leather of the loveseat, giving an almost imperceptible signal.
A shadow moved behind the ambassador, fast and deadly and silent. He chose that exact moment to dive for the alcohol table, his fingers pressing against the trigger of the hidden compartment that sprang open immediately. He reached inside only to find it empty.
"Wha…?" Uduna stared in shock for a moment, but he was interrupted when Thane moved with serpentine grace and speed and wrapped a wire around his throat. Udina's eyes bulged in their sockets in horror and surprise and he reached up, attempting to dislodge it, trying to kick his unseen attacker. Shepard pulled the gun from behind and showed it to the ambassador.
"Looking for this?" she asked mildly. The wire around his neck wasn't tight enough to suffocate him, not yet, and his wildly rolling eyes followed the gun when she dropped it on the floor.
"We're at war, Udina." She informed him coolly. "And during war, traitors get executed."
She watched as Thane's grip tightened, pulling the cord around his neck. He struggled, jerking and attempting to pull away, but he had no chance against her assassin's reptilian strength. His face grew beet red, then slowly turned blue, tiny capillaries in his eyes bursting. He was an ugly sight, but she had seen many creatures die over the years, often in a much more gruesome manner than this. She lost interest in Udina and looked up, taking in the image of Thane as he slowly choked the life out of the traitor. This was the first time since Nassana's assassination that she saw him kill not in battle but in cold blood. His expression was cold and grim, dark eyes firmly trained on the victim that was quickly growing limp in his grip. Outwardly, he did not appear to exert any effort, though she knew the kind of physical strength the drell possessed. Her eyes slid down to his hands, clutching at the wire, so different than her own. He was silent throughout the act, the only sound in the room being Udina's scuffling legs and occasional grunt. There was an ugly, cracking sound when the pressure of Thane's grip broke his neck and the man finally grew limp, his pupils dilating. The deed was done.
Her assassin let the body drop on the floor in a show of uncustomary disrespect, an expression of disgust twisting his features as he looked at him.
"No prayer for him?" she asked curiously.
"He tried to kill you." He answered softly. Apparently this was enough of an explanation. He slowly looked up from the body on the floor and met her gaze. "What are you thinking, Siha?"
"I just realized that this is the first time I see you kill someone like that."
He blinked, confused.
"You've seen me kill people many, many times."
"Not like that. Not when they're unarmed. In battle it's different. Even when we met, Nassana was armed."
Understanding was written all over his face, quickly exchanged for apprehension. She wondered if something like this had happened with his wife. From his description of her, her reaction must have not been pretty. Well, she wasn't his wife.
Shepard reached and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, feeling the tension there. Tentatively, the hands that had just choked the life out of Udina encircled her as well, gentle and careful, timid even. She brushed her lips against his cheek and felt him shudder.
"I am glad you're on my side."
