Title: Prelude
Characters/Pairing: Nassana Dantius, Shepard/Thane
Rating: T (Though I'm going to be safe and add a trigger warning for SOME violence.)
Word Count: 1,235
Summary: Thane is intrigued by Shepard from the first moment he sees her.
"I'm no assassin, Nassana... But I am looking for one." Stony, grey-blue eyes flicker up to the shafts above them, prompting Thane into movement. She hasn't seen him, yet. Thoroughly calculated measures have been taken to ensure that she hasn't. Not until he wants her to. Right now is that time, if there ever is one. Ebony orbs narrow in consideration. So he is her objective, after all. But why?
This is supposed to be his last mission. Cautiously; fastidiously, he has tracked down his target, silently infiltrating this fortress of a tower and taking out numerous guards and mercenaries without so much as a word. Muffled, choked screams tumbling from the throats of his fallen victims are the only warning he allows. Foreboding grace and the promise of danger: he is the night. Everything has been prudently planned. Slip in without alerting Nassana or causing too much pandemonium, take out anyone in his way without fail, and eliminate the target. After that task is completed, if the last of the guards take him down, then so be it. It would be a noble death; to complete his last, fatal mission and die by the hands of the last of her guards storming in to avenge her on his way out. A good end to a life.
And then, she charges in. Loud and commanding, with reckless abandon for anyone, or anything, that gets in her way. Plowing through every mercenary that tries to stop her from reaching her goal, her relentless momentum arouses the drell's interest. A hurricane, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake. A shiver of apprehension crawls into his consciousness and sparks something deep within him, igniting a long since forgotten drive-the fiercely determined need to reach his target first. His pride as a trained shadow killer depends on it.
However brash and indiscreet, there is a certain poise to the woman's movements in battle. Fluent motions of her limbs flash before the assassin's eyes as the armored woman springs out of cover, purging any enemies in her immediate range with combinations of fluid hand-to-hand combat and sharp jerks of her heavy pistol. Rolling back into cover for a moment to recoup and reload, only to pop out again a moment later to repeat the routine. Dancing across the battlefield with an elegance deprived of most soldiers Thane has had the contingency to encounter.
Intrigue flitters across the forefront of his mind, fluctuating among the slowly prickling string of questions prodding at his conscience. Judging by the N7 insignia on her armor, he can deduce that she is Human Alliance, Marine Special Forces. Two companions follow her into battle; a turian and a salarian, but neither seem to share her employers. Even more curious. Such a small woman in stature, yet somehow so fierce in the face of danger. Enough power in her voice to command an army into action, but also enough compassion in her heart to spare and free the salarian workers that he had locked into the storage rooms previously for their own safety, allowing them to escape through the path she has cleared.
Concentration creases his scaly brow as he listens to their conversation from his position in the air ducts above the female marine and her comrades.
"You break in here and decimate my security just to find the person who's here to kill me? What are you playing at, Shepard?"
So she is here for him. What is her purpose? Why go to so much trouble to find him? Endless thoughts and inquiries skirt about his mind as the assassin observes the eyes glare in frustration at the commander-Shepard, Thane notes-as the asari is denied of the information she had been expecting.
Enough delay. Distractions have proved useful to Thane up until this point, permitting him to slink farther into Nassana Dantius' tower and eliminate a large number of her mercenaries with an ease that would have previously been difficult to achieve. Something about the woman reawakens an electrifying thrill he has been devoid of for a very long time. Watching her reactions to the little "gifts" he has left for her here and there has aroused even more curiosity for the relentless, yet somehow compassionate, tornado of devastation. Briefly, he is reminded of Irikah, and the blind courage she once displayed to protect a complete stranger from their untimely demise.
Laser dot trembles on the skull. Spice on the spring wind. Sunset eyes defiant in the scope.
A slight shake of his head diminishes the vivid memory, smothering it into oblivion in the dark recesses of his mind. Now is not the time to reminisce. Midnight green irises flash with new, vehement resolve. No; now he has a contract to fulfill, and an end to greet with open arms. The time to act is in this fleeting, opportune moment. There is no room for error. No slip-ups.
Just action, and a scrupulously honed instinct.
With that thought, Thane crawls forward, knowing, and uncaring, of the alarm his movements evoke in the large office. Detection is no longer a present risk. Metallic clamors reverberate through the steel air vents, echoing out into the ears of paralyzed victims. Even with Thane's careless discord, Nassana somehow remains oblivious. Possibly even consciously so. However, her guards are more apprehensive.
"What?" Growling through her clenched teeth, the asari's voice is slow and menacing. Daring anyone to speak against her.
"I heard something." The slight tremor of fear that quivers the guard's voice is not lost to Thane. Muffling his movements, the assassin perches above a large opening in the ducts directly overhead the two guards behind Nassana, waiting for an opening. Perfect.
"Damn it! Check the other entrances!" Orders are barked from her mouth, eyes crazed and voice sharp. Spinning around on her heel, she rounds on the female soldier and her comrades standing calmly before her desk. "You... stay put." she hisses. Seeing this as his window of opportunity, the drellish assassin is propelled into action. So let it begin.
Without warning, a silent thud of Thane's boots pulse against the hard, marble flooring as he drops into the room from his overhead position in the air shafts. Raven orbs glare into the backs of his enemies, piercing their souls and subliminally tormenting their minds. Movements as swift as bullets in the darkness. Elegance only achieved by a master combatant. Haunting, starless eyes plaguing their nightmares until they can dream no more. A murmur of death in the endless void of caliginosity.
A neck snaps with a subtle crack of brittle bones resounding into the tight space of combat.
A shadow in the night.
Scaled knuckles collide with a fragile windpipe.
A whisper of danger in the wind.
Snagging her gun and countering the Commando's attacks with sharp jabs to her abdomen, Thane takes down a third mercenary within seconds.
"When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to..." Without missing a beat, the drell knocks aside the asari's attempt at an attack and pins the borrowed gun to Nassana's stomach, stealing the breath directly from her lungs. She gasps.
"Who...?" Disbelieving eyes flicker and widen with fearful shock.
Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess.
A single shot is fired, tearing through the asari's vital organs and rippling out through the sound barrier.
It is done.