Drinks With Art

Author's Note: A collaboration I did with the author off Mass Effect Vexations, Herr Wozzeck. Just a fun little non-canon thing the two of us agreed to do.

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Volker let out an irritated sigh as he sat down at one of the tables on the lower levels at the Flux. He had just had a rather bad experience with the Quasar machines up above. "Gambling? How is that gambling? That was a math puzzle!" he grumbled, now five-hundred credits poorer. He let out a small sigh as he gesturing to a waitress, the Asari woman slowly sauntering over. She reached the table when he suddenly remembered that the Flux was what the British would call a gentlemen's club.

"Aw Hell," he whispered, looking at the revealing tight outfit that the woman was wearing, her cleavage flashing as she gave him a toothy smile. He supposed that she was trying to get a tip to fatten up her paycheck, but he didn't have any plans to give her one...at the moment.

"So pretty boy, what can I get you?" she asked, cocking her hips ever so slightly.

"I...I...um," Volker stammered before refocusing. "Just a bottle of Asari wine please, two glasses."

"Oh my, we've just met. Are you taking advantage of me?" the Asari asked, still smiling.

"I...no," Volker said. "I'm supposed to meet someone here. He should be here in a few seconds. I-oh! That's him!"

He watched as a young man with long tied-back hair stepped towards the table. He eyed the asari before shaking his head. "Seriously, man, eyeing up the ladies already?" he asked. "That didn't take very long, did it?"

"Oh great, I really needed another Garrus in my life," Volker grumbled. "Would you just sit down already? Oh, and you're paying for the wine and giving the nice lady a tip."

The young man shrugged, taking a place at the table and nodding to the waitress. "Sure, I guess," he replied, sitting down. "Though did you really have to get asari wine?"

"Oh what do you want from me? No bar sells anything from Earth this far out and I have do make do with alien brew. Asari wine is the only stuff I know that I like. I tried Batarian stuff once and I'm surprised I still have all of my organs."

"Hey, you haven't eaten thresher maw meat," the young man commented. "I mean… it's not that bad if you prepare it right, but still… To think that badly prepared thresher meat could kill a guy. Taking my first bite I was half scared I'd suffer some kind of bad poisoning or something." He sighed. "Well… at least I didn't try the ryncol."

"...Thresher Maw...that giant worm that can take out an entire army?" Volker shook his head before glancing at the waitress. "The wine please?" She smiled as she began to saunter back to the bar. "I'm gonna regret asking this, but when did you ever get into a situation where you had to eat one of those things?"

"Well, Grunt killed it, and then we had a giant party," Art replied, leaning back in the chair and gesturing in the air with his hand. "You know. Spoils of the Rite and all. They don't always kill the damn thresher maws whenever they do it, y'know?"

"Who the Hell is Grunt?" Volker asked. As he spoke, the Asari came sauntering back, a glass bottle with a light blue liquid in it and two shot glasses on a tray. Smiling, she laid it down on the table.

"Thanks," Art said to the waitress briefly as she sauntered off. Art took a hold of the glass immediately, swirling it a touch before holding it. "Grunt? You know, the tank-bred krogan? Or did Okeer not go fucking insane where you come from?"

"I don't know anyone named Okeer...though I do know someone who's pretty crazy." Volker shuddered before taking a glass himself, gesturing at his glowing green eye with his thumb. "Created a bunch of cyborg soldiers, one of them did this to me. Guy was called Goeth." He took a sip. "Had a damn golden tooth. Completely nuts. Whatever your Okeer did, this guy tops it."

"Well, if he had a gold tooth, I don't doubt that," Art replied, sipping the glass. "People that put metal in their mouth are kinda… um… not well. Well, unless your name was George Washington, anyway, in which case you just didn't take care of your goddamn teeth." He shrugged. "And besides, why'd he do the cyborg soldiers?"

"He worked for the Enclave, they wanted super soldiers to take over Humanity. They were pretty good when he got them to work. Most of them though...let's not talk about those. I don't know why anyone would let someone do that, but then again they were the damn Yankees. Like your George Washington, what did he do with his teeth? Eh, doesn't matter. You can't expect too much from the Yankees."

"Well, you have to remember it was the Revolutionary War," Art pointed out, setting his glass on the table as he leaned forward. "Dental hygiene wasn't exactly a huge concern of most people in the late 18th Century. I think." He further leaned back. "And hey, don't forget that this dude over here-" and with this, Art indicated himself "- is one of those damn Yankees…" He glanced to the side. "Well, relatively speaking. You try having parents who fled frickin' Fidel Castro. Or Stalin, I guess. The two of 'em were a bit similar with how they ran government."

"Heh, I know the feeling. I got stuck with good old Adolf. Christ, I actually supported him when he first came to power. I thought he'd make things better, we were all starving. And things got better for awhile but then… let's just say that my eyes got opened. I suppose I'd rather get stuck in America than there… though to be honest my first option was Britain. And it's not that I hate Americans, it's just that sometimes some of them can be… full of themselves."

"Huh, funny thing. That's actually kinda what my grandma would go on about when she talked about Cuba." Art leaned back. "Well, except for the 'arrogant American' part. Which I'll give you 'cause that whole attitude got worse, believe me, but… Y'know. When you grow up on a small-ish island in the Caribbean, you kinda look to what's closest, y'know?"

"I can appreciate that. My plans for escaping involved getting to the far end of Europe. The one farthest away from me. Because the closer one involved running into the Soviet Union, and they weren't exactly very fond of Germans at the time." Volker took another sip of wine. "Ok, this is getting depressing, how about a subject change?"

"Yeah, getting into a debate about history kinda gets a little nutty," Art replied. "So while we're on the subject… the game?"

"What do you mean the game? The ones upstairs? Take my advice and stay away from them, there's a reason you're the one paying for this," Voler said, draining the rest of his glass. "Biggest rip off ever, and I played poker with Kasumi once."

"Wait, wh-No, not quasar!" Art looked at Volker, shaking his head. "I mean 'the game'!"

"What the Hell is the game?" Volker asked. "That Galaxy of Fantasy thing that Garrus won't shut up about?"

"No," Art replied. "Not that either. It's… Okay, you know that mind game people play where you lose if you think about it? That game."

"Wait what? How does that even work?" Volker asked, grabbing the bottle and pouring himself a second glass of wine.

"It's…" Art shook his head, grabbing for his glass of wine and chugging some of it. As he placed the glass down, his face scrunched up a little. "Never mind. It would take too long to explain, and you'd probably laugh when you discover that 'hey, the college kid still does stuff twelve-year-old kids would do'."

"Well, I'll take your word on that one," Volker said, sipping his drink again. "Sorry, I mean I did jump from the mid 20th century to nearly a millennia in the future. Even after all this time I still have a lot of catching up to do."

"Wow, so you even had to catch up with the integral serialists, then," Art commented. "Damn…"

"Well you can show those to me another time, or just send them to me." Volker glanced back and forth across the bar, his face turning slightly red. "I'm...kind of in the middle of doing some catching up myself. I...I was a big fan of The Hobbit when I was a kid, and I just learned that the Lord of the Rings is a thing. So that's gonna keep me tied up for awhile."

"Oh my God, I loved The Hobbit as a kid too!" Art said immediately. He bounced up in his seat briefly, before immediately sinking down. "Though, honestly, I found Lord of the Rings to be too dense from a prose point of view. And then Peter Jackson in his infinite wisdom filmed it all, so I don't have to worry too much about that."

"Who's Peter...oh never mind I don't want to know," Volker said, shaking his head. "So you're from the early 21st century right?"

"Well, I was technically a 90's kid, so I had dipped my feet a bit in the end of the 20th Century," Art replied. "But yeah, I was mostly early 21st Century and all that." He scoffed. "You know, 'cause I totally want to remember the pile of American president fail that was George W. Bush." He shook his head. "If you thought American arrogance was bad in 1942, hoo man…"

"I think we can save the horror stories on Yankee stupidity for another time," Volker said, sipping his drink again. "So, you meet any interesting people while you were on the Normandy? I know I sure did, but you go first."

"Oh, believe me, I did too," Art replied, leaning back and smiling. "You know we have a drell assassin on our Normandy, right? Well… had, anyway. He was a real interesting guy. You wouldn't think an assassin would be so spiritual and wise and all that, but this guy, man…" Art sipped his wine. "And that ass he had…"

"I thought you were in a relationship...oh whatever. Yeah I've met a few interesting guys too. There was this one guy who had a cybernetic arm and an eye, not long after I met him he lost his leg too. Every other word out of the guy's mouth was a swear and he used to be a real pain too. Didn't get along with anyone. He's a lot better now though...still swears like he's getting paid to do it though."

"Well, I imagine you'd be pretty cranky if someone had to replace your arm with a hunk of metal and wires that might malfunction at any time." Art swirled the wine a bit. "And hey, he can't swear any more than I do. Man, if you piss me off, I can swear enough to make a sailor blush. Or most sane men." Art eyed Volker intently. "Trust me, I may be in a relationship, but believe me, that doesn't stop me from ogling hot people, y'know?"

"Somehow I doubt that you're as fond as a certain word that starts with the letter c as he is. Well, if Tali is ok with it I don't see the...oh dear Lord." Volker glanced down at his drink, a look of horror spreading across his face.

Art rose an eyebrow. "Oh shit," he said immediately. "Did your Tali get jealous?"

"No, it's just that...you know. You and me. The same woman. Doesn't that feel weird to you? If the situation was any different the two of us would be trying to kill each other with the bottle." Volker shook his head. "Just when I keep thinking my life can't get any weirder."

Art glanced to the side. "Um… Yeah, I guess it kinda does…" He looked up, and then smirked an evil, horrible smirk. "So… two of us on the same woman, huh…?"

"I...WHAT!?" Volker shouted. "Where did that come from? I just...will you just shut up already!? The way you're talking I'm surprised you haven't hit the bottom of the table yet!"

Art's response was to cackle just as loudly. "Oh Jesus, the look on your face," Art replied as he started giggling. "Oh Jesus, you just made my week…"

Volker's eyes narrowed as he sighed and polished off his glass in a single shot. "I'm starting to think that Tali's standards are a little lower than I thought they were. Not sure what that says about me, but that's not really important at the moment. Or maybe we come from two completely different worlds...tell me something, did you ever have a run in with someone named Saren?"

"Well, I think Tali was drawn to my… sensitive side," Art replied. "And, you know, the whole 'she was the first person I could ever really trust' deal." He nodded. "And Saren? Oh yeah, I met Saren all right. I was there when the poor bastard shot himself in the head." Art took a sip of the wine. "Why?"

"Shot himself in the head?" Volker asked, intentionally ignoring the first comment. "I don't remember ours being so suicidal. Come to think of it he's still on the loose, trying to do whatever it is he's planning. I'm going to have to go back to chasing him down when this is over. Still, it sounds like you won, that's good news. It's why I asked too, I wanted to know." He grabbed the bottle and was considering pouring himself a second glass before he changed his mind and put it down.

"Whoa, he's still kicking?" Art leaned forward. "Damn…" He shook his head. "I guess Saren didn't really have indoctrination to deal with, then. I guess." He shrugged. "You know how those Reapers are, y'know?"

"The what?" Volker asked. "I...this is gonna be bad isn't it?"

Art frowned. "Oh." He sighed. "Oh, good, you don't have Reapers. The last thing you need is to see genocidal robots bent on the extinction of all organic life go crawling all over your asses." He then leaned back. "I guess it's all just war and shit from your point of view?"

"More or less. We nearly got invaded by the Geth, the Enclave tried to hack the entire race using technology they stole from Saren. We barely stopped them in time too, another hour later and they would've gotten what they wanted." Volker rubbed his eyes. "Still, we won. And you're still breathing which must mean you're holding your own."

"Barely," Art replied. "We lost an entire turian fleet to just one of those damn things. Technology's improved since then, but we only just figured out how we're gonna kill the bastards." He shook his head. "Ah, well, at least this Enclave didn't get what they wanted…" Art shrugged. "You know how it is."

"We're technically allies with them now, how screwed up is that?" Volker asked. "The same President is still running the show and everything. Sure most of the senators got kicked out the political parties were dissolved and even a crazy Admiral got executed, but more than a few of the people involved with the whole matter got to stay in power. Well...they did say they were forced to take the measures they did. I hope they're not lying, or we could be in trouble."

"Let's hope," Art said. "After all, they could want to invade my galaxy next. Or they could just get me to body-switch again." He then looked up at a point seemingly beyond the ceiling of Flux. "You know, 'cause some people just love to write body-swaps!"

"...Not asking," Volker said. "Hopefully not. I mean I'm not sure if they have the manpower, but that little incident with the Geth showed that they're not exactly lacking in confidence. On the plus side though, we took away the technology they stole from Saren and destroyed it, and Jane got the Geth to keep an eye on them. They'll attack if the Enclave tries anything funny. It's...brutal, but I think it's the right call. I hope it doesn't come to that though."

"Yeah, let's hope," Art commented. "You wanna catch a Wagner opera while we're waiting?"

"Huh...don't think I've ever been to an opera," Volker said. "Poor farmers don't really get that luxury. I don't see why not. Something new is always nice. Just keep your hands where I can see them. I have an energy pistol that ignores kinetic barriers and can literally reduce you to ash. Sounds fair?"

"Well, I was about to point out that both our Talis would be a bit miffed if they ever found out I smacked your ass, but that works too," Art replied. "Can't win 'em all." He shrugged as he stood up. "And yeah. Just hope you can keep your attention span going. Tristan und Isolde isn't known for resolving for several hours at a time."

"Oh boy," Volker said. "Guess we better get going soon, the sooner we start the less likely I'll be falling asleep by the end. Excuse me miss! Check please!" He glanced at Art. "All yours buddy."

Art nonchalantly tossed a credit chit to the table. "Should be enough to cover for asari wine," he commented. "And hey, it's not sangria, so I should be good." Art rolled his eyes. "I love myself some wine colored with some fruits, but damn is it expensive up here."

"Yeesh, what is it with you mixing all this stuff with you booze. Just drink it raw. Then again us Germans always were better at brewing." Volker got to his feet. "So where is it? Do people perform on this station?"

"Well, it's off in the Tayseri Ward somewhere," Art commented. "Or it should be. I'm surprised your Tayseri ward is still here." Art then glanced to the side. "Ours kinda went 'kaboom' in a certain sense."

"I could write a list on all of the things you've been talking about that I'm glad to be blissfully ignorant about," Volker said, starting to walk towards the exit to the Flux. "So you coming? I haven't actually been on the Citadel before, don't expect me to know to know where to go."

"Sure," Art said as he followed Volker. "It's actually not that hard to find, since the Tayseri Ward is pretty small and-"

Art immediately paused, glancing to the side in sudden fear as he noticed a rather plain looking woman with a floating camera talking to someone. He froze up, his joints tightening as he looked at this woman. "Oh fuck…"

"What?" Volker said, stopping to stare at Art. After a second, he realized what Art was staring at. "Who's that woman?" It was at this point he noticed she was talking to a man in black armor that had a glowing red cybernetic eye. "And why is she talking to Roger?"

"It's Khalisa Bint'Sinan Al'Jilani!" Art said, turning to Volker with wide eyes. "She's some kind of tabloid reporter. And if I'm looking at this right…"

And then, Al'Jilani turned to look right at Art and Volker. Almost immediately, her eyes narrowed, and Art could not miss the smirk that emanated from her being. Art took a tentative step back, staring in fear at the camera.

"Fuck fuck gotta get the fuck outa here!" Art shouted, immediately grabbing Volker's wrist and running off in the opposite direction.

"STOP!" Volker shouted, grabbing the nearest solid object that he could, which happened to be a parked air car, and dug his heels into the ground. "What are you freaking out about?"

As Volker spoke, he heard another voice from Jilani's direction. "Oi bitch! If you're gonna talk to me you can at least look me in the eye!"

Art shook his head, looking right at Volker. "Don't ask questions!" he shouted. "Just run!"

"I'm not runing until you tell me what you're freaking out about!" Volker said letting go of the air car and grabbing Art by the back of his shirt, pulling him back.

At that moment, Jilani had turned and begun to walk towards them, Roger right behind her. "Oh what? You drop in, accuse me of torturing people to get a hard on and now you just walk away? You're fucking kidding me right?"

Art turned around, looking at Jilani and immediately panicking. "Fuck shit, Jilani, that was a fuckin' extranet comment!" Art shouted. "You don't have to chase me around the Citadel for that!" He then turned to the air cab, yanking the window open. "For the last time, Volker, don't ask questions and get your fat Nazi ass in the cab!"

"Hello, Volker Hoffman is it? Member of the Normandy's crew?" Jilani asked. "I'm with Westerland News. I was hoping you could comment on your crew mate behind me. He happens to be a Moriean shock troop, an organization known well for their inhumane treatment of prisoners. How can a ship like yours justify having such degenerates on board?"

"Ok, that fucking does it," Roger said, raising his right arm and tapping the side of it. A bolt of green energy shot out and smashed into the news drone, causing it to explode in mid air. "Keep your mouth shut about things you don't fucking understand," Roger hissed, glaring at Jilani as she looked at the remains of her drone in horror.

Art looked at the broken drone for a few seconds, and then sighed in relief. "Oh good, she can't edit in any slanderous pieces about me on the extranet," he said, wiping his forehead. "Sheesh, and all that over dissenting over the questions she asked Shepard. Talk about disproportionate retribution!"

"Oh, Volker I didn't see you there," Roger said as Jilani slowly began to back away. "Who's your friend?"

"Art...mind telling me exactly what was going on?" Volker asked. "I mean...why is the big deal about that woman?"

"Long story short, she's a cunt. Your friend seems to know all about it. Ask him. I gotta catch up with the others. Also if you get a call about that drone, deny everything. Later." He nodded before slowly walking away.

Volker glanced at Art. "The cyborg I mentioned earlier? That would be him."

"You know what? He doesn't seem all that bad," Art said immediately. "I mean… he destroyed Al'Jilani's camera, so I think he's fine by my book." He shook his head before looking at his watch. "Well, at least we won't be late after that stupid distraction. Let's get over there…"

"Ok," Volker said, getting into the cab along with Art. "So how does this thing work?" Volker asked, glancing around the air car as Art gave the driver instructions. "I don't see any wheels? How does it gOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed as the car took off. "WHAT IS GOING ON!?"

Art just looked at Volker with a confused look. "Really?" he asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "You've been in the future for… what, a few years? And you still haven't seen a cab around here?"

"First of all, months, not years. Second of all, I told you that I've never been on the Citadel before. Third, the military units I've been around still used vehicles with wheels. Some of them flew, but I still saw that most people had to get by on the ground. Flying cars? That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard!"

"Um, the Citadel isn't the only place with these, you know," Art replied immediately. "Or was there no Battle of Illium or anything like that?"

"No, I've never been a place called Illium!" Volker said. "I've been to some rocky planet where we found Liara, a snowy planet called Noveria I think, the Enclave homeworld and some place where we raided a party hosted by some guy called Donovan Hock. Like I said, I've only been here a few months!"

"Hey, you met Donovan Hock!" Art immediately replied. "You should totally know what a flying car is! Or were you… otherwise occupied when you were heading over to raid that party?"

"I...to be perfectly honest I had to sit that mission out," Volker said. "I still wasn't back to 100% from...recent injuries." He gestured to his eye. "Also what does that mean!?"

"Oh…" Art nodded, glancing to the side nervously. "Yeah… Um… I meant an innuendo by that…" He chuckled nervously, before suddenly squeezing himself against the back of the car. "Don'tkillmedearjesusdon'tkillme!"

"Yeesh, calm down," Volker said before glancing out the window. "That the place?" he asked.

Art leaned towards the window to see what Volker was looking at. "Well, unless you can get to the Tayseri Ward from Flux in less than a minute, then no," he replied.

"...Oh," Volker said, his face turning slightly red as he looked back into the cab. "I see. So, what was that about an extranet comment back there?"

"Well, one of her infamous Shepard interviews went up," Art replied. "Stupid me should've remembered not to root for the Commander who had the displeasure of punching that reporter in the face twice when my extranet handle is my actual name." He shook his head. "She's been looking for an 'interview' ever since. You know, 'cause we all love to volunteer ourselves for personal attacks disguised as journalism!"

"To be perfectly honest the unit that Roger used to be a part of apparently really did have a lot of shady stuff going around it. Apparently they mistreated prisoners of war and even torture them. Now I don't think that he did anything like that, but still," Volker shrugged. "It didn't seem completely uncalled for back there."

"Yeah, she just gets nosey as hell," Art said. "Tabloid journalism can get pretty fucked up sometimes. Hell, if she had been given the opportunity, she probably might've posted a story about me willingly taking it up the ass from a turian." Art shrugged. "Granted, that might actually be fun, but the fact that it's not true wouldn't do anything for anyone."

"You're a very horny person, you know that right?" Volker said, staring at Art with a wary expression on his face."

"Why, thank you for your keen observation on life, the universe, and everything," Art replied. He then shook his hand. "Don't worry: my one rule is never break fidelity, or be the one to break someone's fidelity. Some of the old Roman Catholic me still survives, you know."

"You did suggest that the two of us double team Tali, technically that wouldn't be being unfaithful, that would be...something. I don't know what but it'd be something. How would that even...never mind I don't want to know. There are so many things you talk about that I just do not want to know."

"Well, seeing as how we're technically dating different Talis, it gets a bit more complicated than that," Art replied. "Honestly, it's one of those things you probably shouldn't think about too hard. We'll leave it at that."

"Agreed," Volker said. "So, how much longer until we're there? I only ask because it could take anywhere from a minute to an hour as far as I know."

"No, no, that's fine," Art said as he glanced outside of the vehicle, looking at the surroundings. "No… At this rate we should be there in about a minute and a half, so we're close." Art shrugged. "By the way, did I mention that they have concessions during the intermission?"

"They did, well that should be interesting," Volker said. "So, I take it that this should be somewhere between two to three hours long? Just want to know if I should take a piss before we go in." He grinned slightly. "I really couldn't have put that any cruder. I'm turning into Roger."

"No, it's a good question to ask," Art replied. "And dude, this is Wagner. It's more like five hours than two or three. There should be two intermissions, but I would take a piss immediately."

"Great, good to know," Volker said dryly. "So, we go our separate ways after this?"

"Guess so," Art said. "Say hi to your Tali for me, will ya?"

"Likewise," Volker said. "Try to word it in a way that doesn't sound weird though. Also I'd like to meet up again with you. Preferably after we've both taken care of our business."

"Oh, that shouldn't be too hard," Art replied. "And yeah, this has been fun. I'd definitely be up for that."

"Sounds good," Volker said. As he did, the cab slowly began to descend and slow down. "Looks like we're here. I hope you haven't been misleading me on this guy."

"Well, if I were misleading you, then technically that would apply to Hitler too," Art said, brushing his shirt as the cab door opened. "C'mon, let's get in, yeah?"

"I swear, the energy pistol comes out if you mention Nazis one more time," Volker said, stepping out. "And yeah, let's do this."

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Author's Note: Well, I hoped you enjoyed that. Just a fun little thing Herr and I did.