Bait

A bead of sweat rolled from her brow down the length of her nose. Another followed and reached her upper lip. She hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand before gearing herself up for another charge.

Her body crackled blue with energy and she shot forth out of the shadows with a smear of light. She connected with a Blood Pack thug in a thunderous collision and sent the krogan reeling. The bastard seemed more surprised than anything. She ventured it wasn't every day he got charged by a five foot six asari–and for good reason. It was probably suicide to anyone else but her.

Thankfully, up until a few months ago, she'd made a living wiping the floor with Blood Pack lackeys. Hell, she'd made a living wiping the floor with anyone who got in Eclipses way. And despite the groups less than glamorous reputation, they spared no expense making sure their members were combat ready. She'd come to them a starving teenager on the streets of Ilium, stripping, dealing drugs, selling her body to whoever might stick something inside her and call it fucking, and they'd transformed her into a warrior. Now at one hundred and six years old she was stronger than she'd ever thought possible. Her biotics were off the charts. No one could touch her.

Taking advantage of the unbalanced krogan, she threw a shockwave at him point blank. It was enough to lift his hulking figure off the floor and send him back twenty feet into a few shipping crates scattered around Omega's filthy port. A grin rippled across her lips.

She'd had always had a penchant for toe-to-toe fighting. She'd been told time and time again that her reckless lust for close combat would dig her an early grave. But her bosses never complained. Most of the members of Eclipse were expendable. There were a select few valuable enough to be protected, and she'd never been one of them.

It really was a shitty contract, when she thought about it. They didn't give a damn about you when you were a member and following orders, but the minute you defected they had every commando out hunting for your head. Fortunately, her history made her good at dropping off the radar. She'd managed to elude her former employers for a few months and it seemed they'd given up the chase.

She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before she struck her opposite hand to the left and lifted a vorcha up in the air. She tightened her fist, his body enrobed in biotic energy, before slamming him back to the floor with a sickening crack. There was something almost musical about the way bones broke. A sweet, satisfying sound.

Of course, she knew taking out an entire Blood Pack squad at one of Omega's most criminally active shipping ports didn't exactly qualify as laying low. But she'd been smart about it the last few weeks. Sporadic hits. Never staying too long, never making a pattern. She didn't discriminate who she took out, whether it be Blood Pack, Blue Suns or even her old employers. Her jobs were quick, clean and soft enough to elude attention. She hoped, however, that they were just loud enough to gain the attention of one.

Archangel had been making a name for himself around Omega. You know when the citizens of Omega give someone a nickname that he means business. Word on the street was that he was putting together some sort of do-gooder squad and trying to dethrone the three major players in Omega's playpen.

She had her own reasons for wanting in. None of them she was keen on explaining, for seeking atonement for years spent murdering innocents made her feel weak and unclean. But if Archangel had racked up as many enemies as she'd heard, he wouldn't be able to afford to be choosy.

Her muscles ached with sweet strain as she pulled another merc off his feet and charged the one behind him. She rolled behind cover as a parade of shots assailed the front of her yellow armor. She pressed her shoulders against the crate and panted. With deft fingers she ejected the used up thermal clip on her pistol and replaced it with a new one. She'd never been one for guns; always preferring to let her biotics do the talking. But these guys would regenerate faster than she could keep up if she wasn't careful. Her shields came back up after a few seconds and she spun out of cover to shoot a vorcha with his back to her.

When his body hit the ground, everything grew quiet. Relief washed over her as she admired the bodies. Seven in all. Blood Pack were always easier to take down going solo. They weren't as disciplined as the Blue Suns and they didn't have the high tech shit that Eclipse ran around with. All it took was a little ingenuity and a touch of fearlessness to deal with these bastards.

She stepped over the body of the vorcha and made for the deep trenches of the cargo hold so they might cover her while she left the scene. It was then she heard the soft click of a rifle behind her.

"Archangel," she purred.

A smile worked its way onto her pale blue lips as she spun on her heel and glanced up at a crate where Omega's infamous vigilante was perched. He had his sniper rifle aimed at her head. The lowlights gleamed off the black visor of his helmet. She sheathed her own pistol at her thigh and crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unfazed by target on her head.

His helmet tilted down towards the bodies, "You've been busy."

"How else was I supposed to get you to pay attention to me?"

She heard him hum a small noise of either approval or acknowledgement, she wasn't sure which, before his head straightened up.

"Do we know each other?" he asked.

She smirked.

"Not yet, but I was hoping we might change that."

He pointed his rifle at the Eclipse symbol on the chest of her armor.

"If you know my name, you probably know that I'm not in the business of getting to know mercenaries."

She looked down at her chest and scoffed.

"My credits dried up around the same time I quit Eclipse. Haven't had the chance to go out and buy anything new yet."

"You can do that?"

She shrugged, "Quit? If you're smart enough to steer clear of the bounty hunters afterwards, sure."

Archangel lowered his rifle. Even though she couldn't see his eyes she could feel them measuring her, searching her. His curiosity was nearly tangible.

"Why?"

She stiffened. She'd known the question was coming, and the memories it shoveled up were vibrant, bloody and harsh inside her head. She swallowed and locked her pale eyes on the floor.

"They gave me a job that didn't sit right with me, simple as that."

"I wasn't aware mercenaries had morals."

"And I wasn't aware vigilantes were so judgmental, goddess."

She pushed herself off the crate and approached the bottom of his. Under the light her skin glowed pale violet, the dark markings around her eyes, brow and cheeks inky black.

"Look, I'm not trying to get personal here," she said, "I just…I just want to do some good. And you're the only guy on Omega who is taking shit into his own hands and getting it done."

Her eyes scanned the dark shine of his visor.

"Please, let me help."

The armored figure seemed to consider for a moment. There was an agonizing few seconds of wait.

Then the rifle lowered completely. His hand pressed back into the metal roof of the crate before he pushed himself off and landed before her. The rifle went to his shoulders. Then he pulled off his helmet with one hand and extended the other.

"Garrus Vakarian."

She grinned and worked her fingers against his long talons.

"Zara Erash, at your service."

hey guys, i know it's been a while since i've written anything! but i was playing mass effect 2 again the other day and decided i had to explore garrus during his days as archangel and who his squad might have been comprised of. and thus the idea for this fic was born!

thanks for reading! and feedback is always appreciated!