The heavy thud of booted steps roused Kasumi Goto from her book, and she looked up to see Zaeed Massani enter her lounge with barely a nod in her direction. She frowned. No one ever bothers to knock. She did note he looked grumpier than usual, and tired at that.
"Hello to you too. " She watched him walk round the other side of the bar. "Pragia wasn't as fun as Jack made it sound, I take it?"
Zaeed let out a humorless half laugh and bent down to search the bar's contents.
"'Bout as much fun as a shitstorm in a Tuchanka foxhole. Girl wasn't exaggerating, I'll give her that." He gave a low hum and stood up with a bottle of Batarian whiskey - not the expensive stuff, Kasumi noticed, but the sort that gave ryncol a run for it's money. So it had been that kind of mission.
"You know, I think that may have actually been made in a prison toilet somewhere? There's some better stuff on the upper shelf, hits just as hard but probably won't burn the lining of your stomach off."
Zaeed just glanced up as he pulled out a tumbler. "Then what's the bloody point?"
She shook her head and marked her place in her book, raising a brow at him. "Well, that's certainly one way to look at it."
"Yeah? I'd call it the right way."
He took a seat, pouring a couple fingers of his chosen poison. Kasumi folded her legs under her and watched from beneath her hood. He had the attitude of someone that wanted to be left alone. But then, he could have just taken the alcohol back down to his little room if he'd wanted privacy. And she was curious. She supposed she could just cloak and eavesdrop on the Commander's debriefing with Miranda (and maybe catch a glimpse of the dashing Mr. Taylor en route), but…there was something to be said for teasing information from the source.
She stretched her legs and stood, gracefully stepping over to the bar and looking for her own preferred liquor. She wrinkled her nose at the reek of the whiskey - he was going to have to visit Chakwas for that headache tomorrow. And the vomiting.
She kept her eyes on the bottles in front of her, seeming to examine the labels though she knew precisely what she was going to choose. Even the littlest subterfuge made any conversation more exciting.
"Tough fight, I presume?"
She heard the swish of liquid, a drink and a hiss. His voice rumbled over her.
"Nah. Bit of a pisser, really. Some idiot krogan and even dumber vorcha. Took 'em out quick enough."
Kasumi plucked a bottle of Asari gin and some lime, turning to set about making her cocktail. "I thought the place was supposed to be abandoned? Mr. Illusive shut it down when she was a kid, right?"
Zaeed grunted in assent. "That's what he said. Seemed true enough. Place was a right shitheap. Bloody vines and mold everywhere, smelled about as fresh as an Omega sewer."
Kasumi took a sip of her drink. Too much lime, but it would do. "Sounds delightful. So they were looters?" She wandered back over to her couch and settled in, considering. "But what were they looking to find? Not much of a market for rusted out human experimentation equipment."
Zaeed looked over his shoulder at her, almost smiling. It didn't reach his eyes. "You'd be surprised." He turned back to his drink, downing the last of it and pouring another round. "There was a kid."
Kasumi, her glass halfway to her lips, paused at that. "A kid? But you said -"
"Nah, not a kid kid. He was about Jack's age. Out of his fuckin' mind. Guess he'd come back, wanted to start the place up again." He capped the bottle, pushing it aside. "Like I said, out of his goddamn mind. Literally, now. Jack made sure of that." He snorted. "Tough little bitch." He said it like it was the highest of compliments, and to him, maybe it was. He took a long pull from his glass, and Kasumi waited, sensing he wasn't through. She was right. His voice was hard when he spoke.
"'Parently they'd experiment on the other kids. See what would work, what wouldn't. Helluva lot more in the last category than the first.. Not exactly a surprise, I'd think, but then I'm no goddamn scientist."
"…and they'd apply their newfound knowledge to our friend down in engineering?"
Zaeed tipped his glass to her.
"They had these little tables. Operating tables, must've been. At least 15. And that was one room." He looked at the counter, scratching the scarring above his brow. "It was the damndest thing. Everything was so small. She said they shipped 'em in crates."
Kasumi looked down at the clouded green of her drink. She let out a breath. "Jesus."
Zaeed shrugged. "Makes sense. Small cargo, pack them in tight. Maybe a couple die, but you get the bang for your buck. You see it out in the Terminus all the time. No need for any of that summer camp, home away from home bullshit when they're all gonna end up splayed on the operating table anyway, right?" He was quiet for a moment before coughing out a hollow laugh. "Funny thing, this saving humanity business. Sometimes a man has to wonder what the goddamn point is."
For a moment, Kasumi wasn't quite sure what to say.
"…is she ok? Though for Jack, I guess 'ok' is a relative concept. But you know what I mean."
He gave his whiskey a contemplative swirl. "Seems good enough. Twitchy, angrier than a three-eyed Batarian, but that's Jack for you. Blew the place sky-high and didn't look back. Was the best we could do. Better than most get." He shook his head. "Closure. What a bunch of horse shit."
Kasumi couldn't disagree with him there.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, nursing their respective drinks, Kasumi glancing at Zaeed out of the corner of her eye. He was rubbing the back of his neck. There was an old scar right across the juncture of shoulder and spine, she knew. She'd only seen it once - when he was out of his armor. A rare event, though she supposed she had no room to judge. She wondered where he got it from and if she should ask, if only to pull her mind away from the image of little bodies and cold rooms. So she did.
His hand stiffened and he pulled it away, sending her a sidelong glance that looked half suspicious and half amused.
"You're awfully curious tonight."
She smiled out from underneath her hood. "I'm curious every night, you just happen to be the current recipient of said curiosity."
"That right." He twisted in his seat, looked her up and down. "Didn't you ever hear that saying? Curiosity killing the cat? Seems a cat burglar might pay attention to something like that."
She wagged a finger at him. "Ah, but us cats have nine lives, remember? And we know how to watch ourselves around old dogs."
He quirked a brow at her, finally letting out a low chuckle. "I'll keep that in mind."
With that he turned, downed the last of his whiskey and stood. Kasumi turned her head up to him, surprised.
"You're done? You're not even wobbling yet."
He pushed his stool back in. "One of the perks of being an old dog, love. We know when to get completely shitfaced - and when getting completely shitfaced is best left to the pups."
"Oh, well… goodnight, then."
Zaeed gave her a short nod. "Yeah, you too."
And Kasumi watched as he disappeared through the sliding doors and out into the hush of the hallway.
