A/N: Yeah, I know. Everyone's favorite interspecies couple. Old hat.

What can I say? I always wanted to do my own version of one of these, but got disillusioned with the series after the poor ending of 3. Now, with Andromeda out, and me not enjoying it very much, it suddenly seemed like a good idea to return to the universe this way instead. Kay? Kay. :)

John Shepard was having a bad day.

He had woken up from a nightmarish hell mere hours ago with a massive headache after being hit by a strange energy wave emitted by the Beacon on Eden Prime. Then, without having a chance to properly recover, he'd had to go to the Citadel and deal with a bunch of bullshit political intrigue. Of course, it was just his luck that the council decided to be extremely difficult about Saren, forcing him to present evidence. Since that time, he'd been running around the Citadel, desperately chasing down any lead he could find. Just when the trail was going cold, that krogan bounty hunter, Wrex, had helped him finally discover some good news: a quarian engineer who supposedly had the evidence he needed.

The bad news was that the woman was critically injured, sick, and being chased down by both Saren's and the Shadow Broker's thugs. Shepard knew that the chances were good that he was already too late, and that her data would be lost to him forever. That wasn't the only trouble plaguing Shepard's mind, though. In fact, his primary concern was making sure this quarian female, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Dr. Michel had called her, made it out of her dire situation.

He despised evil lowlifes who took advantage of ordinary people above all else, a hatred that had been instilled in him from the butchery he had witnessed as a sixteen-year old on Mindoir. More intense than this hatred was his disdain for seeing innocent people hurt by such scum. As such, Shepard had made it his personal mission to save everyone he possibly could, no matter the cost. The alternative was simply too infuriating: an unacceptable outcome that churned his stomach and evoked panic in his heart at the mere thought of failing in this self-imposed duty.

It was this deep passion that fueled his steps and granted him the extra reserves of energy he needed to quickly sweep the back alleys of the Citadel wards in search of this quarian. Not for the first time in the past few minutes, he questioned whether it had been wise to send Garrus to C-Sec headquarters to gather backup, as well as order Wrex to split up from him so that they could cover more ground.

There was no time for second-guessing, however. It was the rational call, he knew, even if it meant that he was putting himself in greater danger. After all, John Shepard did not raise to the highest echelon of the N7 division with self-doubt and cowardice.

Then it happened; the break that he had been searching for. Up ahead and down an alley to his left, he heard an aggressive turian voice and the higher-pitched-yet-distorted voice of what he could only guess was a quarian female (having never met one before in his life).

Engaging his tactical cloak, Shepard made his way stealthily to the corner of the wall next to the alley's opening. Peaking invisibly around that corner, he surveyed the contents of the passageway. A few crates and heaps of machinery were scattered about the filthy alley. In the middle, surrounded by two salarians and a turian, was a quarian female.

"Hands off, Fist!" the woman demanded, brushing the turian's three-fingered hand away from her waist. Shepard could hear the strain in her voice, though she did an admirable job projecting an aura of confidence and bravery considering the circumstances. Beneath that unreadable exterior, he knew that Tali'Zorah had to be terrified.

Fist snarled and twitched his muscles as if preparing to attack. Shepard hoped that he would, so that he'd have an excuse to gun the man down in cold blood. Alas, that was not what the turian did. Instead he reached up gently and stroked the receiver of the quarian's mask, a vicious mockery of affection.

"Watch your mouth, girl, or I'll show you why they call me 'Fist'," he said with barely-concealed venom. "It would be a shame to break that mask of yours, but technically, we don't need you alive. Just the data. Don't need you alive to have my fun, either."

"So, if I were you," he whispered softly, I'd start getting on my good side as quickly and as enthusiastically as possible." Fist punctuated his 'advice' with a cruel chuckle and leaned away again. "What'll it be, suit-rat?" he barked.

Shepard had seen more than enough. Now was the time for action if he wanted to save this person, whom he guessed from the conversation was Tali'Zorah. In the span of a few heartbeats, Shepard mentally reviewed his index of options and strategies.

For one, it was clear that he couldn't wait for Wrex to backtrack to his position, let alone Garrus. He had to do this alone. Those men outnumbered him three to one, though. If he were a Spectre then perhaps Shepard would have been able to carry an assault rifle around the Wards, in which case he could even the odds that way. Unfortunately, all he had was an above average quality heavy hand cannon. Attacking from his cloaked position could also even the odds, but startling Fist and his men might get the Quarian killed accidentally. Moreover, Shepard wanted to at least give them (exactly one) chance to surrender peacefully to appease his conscience.

It was settled. Shepard nodded with grim determination as he realized that he needed to go in boldly and alone. He'd be in dire straits, but it was the best option available to ensure Tali's survival.

Besides, he thought, grinning wickedly as he deactivated the cloak, I have a plan.

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya was having a horrible day. The worst of her life, in fact.

After getting shot by a polonium-laced sniper round, seeing her shipmates killed, bleeding halfway across the Citadel, nearly dying from a nasty combination of infection and radiation poisoning, and barely having anything to eat or drink for two days as she evaded deadly killers who were pursuing her relentlessly, she was now being threatened with rape and murder by a turian thug.

To say that Tali was petrified would be an understatement of incalculable proportions. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she thought it might explode. Her limbs, nearly exhausted beyond the point of being able to support her weight, trembled with fear. She felt like breaking down and crying. She probably would have, come to think of it, if it wasn't for the fact that she refused to give the man the satisfaction.

Tali knew she was going to die. It wouldn't be painless or dignified either; far from it, in fact. And to top that all off, it was going to be in a place where everyone hated her, where they were disgusted by her to such an extreme degree that every single person she'd come across, except for one, was content to simply let her bleed out and die on the streets like an animal. She was going die alone and away from her friends and family, away from the home and people she was so selflessly dedicated to. Tali would never again hear her father's voice, never enjoy the pleasure of tinkering with a drive core, never appreciate the feeling of being out of her damn suit in a clean room.

At least I'll see mom again…if there is an afterlife, that is, Tali thought bitterly.

"What'll it be suit-rat?" the turian barked.

Tali had no idea what to say. There was nothing *to* say, nothing she could even do. Nothing, that is, save for hope blindly that some guardian angel would swoop in and save her at the last moment. She had never been a religious woman, but in this moment, Tali prayed desperately to any cosmic being that was possibly listening to save her.

In lieu of an answer, she simply stared back at the man, wringing her hands in front of her waist, as she was wont to do in times of stress.

The turian opened his mouth and began to speak, but was cut off by the most relieving thing Tali had ever heard.

"Drop your weapons and step away from the woman!" a strong and smooth voice commanded from the other end of the hallway.

Fist wheeled around in shock and anger, revealing to both himself and Tali the source of the voice: a humanoid figure clad in dark combat armor bearing a red stripe and a mark which read "N7".

Tali's eyes scanned the figure. Straight shins, five fingers: it was a human. Clearly a male one as well. His physical stature would be grotesquely broad and muscled on a quarian man, but was merely above average on a human male. Tali had had some trouble getting used the fact that humans possessed slightly different sexual dimorphism than quarians. After all, she'd never even seen humans in person until coming to the Citadel two days ago.

In any case, the man struck quite an intimidating figure. His manner practically radiated supreme confidence, authority, and skill. Tali was unsure if this was a good sign or not. So far, she'd only been around a human female for any length of time: Dr. Michel. For all she knew, the males of this species were savage brutes like the Krogan. However, that might be a good thing in this scenario. Tali's primal instinct judged violence a likely outcome. Perhaps she could escape while this human killed, or at least distracted, the other rogues.

With cautious optimism, Tali waited silently to see what would happen.

"Who the fuck are you?" the turian asked Shepard, pistol raised in opposition to Shepard's own. According to his helmet's HUD, his translator implant had picked up on some turian curse word and translated it to one roughly equivalent in intensity to one of human parlance. Good to know.

"I'm John Shepard, Systems Alliance, N7 designation," Shepard replied, his tone icy. "I'm not going to ask you to comply again."

Fist stared him down. Shepard could read the man's indecision in eyes. He was sizing him up, calculating the odds. Shepard was resolute: he set his face in a mask of determination and showed no fear, even though he was outnumbered. His eyes narrowed.

After what seemed like ages, Fist made up his mind. "Get a load of this human," the turian scoffed, turning to his salarian lackeys. "He thinks he's tough. Let me tell you something, punk: I don't give a shit if you work for the Alliance. I work for the broker. So you can step the fuck off, and maybe I'll let you live. This quarian bitch is mine!" he proclaimed, jabbing a finger in his chest. As he did so, one of the salarians flanked him, while the other moved behind Tali to keep his eyes on her.

Shepard frowned, honestly disappointed. He could read Fist like an open book. The turian was mostly an outer layer of bravado concealing doubt underneath. He had the air of a man who was ready for fighting but didn't expect it to be necessary. He was a bully, used to having his way with pure intimidation, plain and simple.

Unlike Shepard, who was prepared to die if need be, and never flinched from violence.

"I'm giving you one chance," Shepard growled, muscles tensed and ready for action.

"Look…" Fist began.

Shepard exploded into motion. He knew that in a barren alley such as this, the fight would be a simple contest of whose shields would go down first. Outnumbered and flanked by two salarians who were likely specialists that could hack his shields, Shepard would surely lose that fight. His only chance was to gain an advantage by disabling his opponents.

Although his opponents could plainly see Shepard's shimmering, purplish aura that indicated personal barriers, there was a simple fact they were overlooking. Like most people who weren't biotics themselves, they didn't realize that barriers could be detonated to release a powerful energy wave upon a whim. It was a very situational tactic that did not lend itself well to the fighting style of most biotics, who preferred to stay in the rear, behind allies.

Shepard's arms extended to his sides as he channeled his will into a razor-sharp blade of concentration. Dark energy swirled and coalesced around him, then immediately exploded outward. The resulting purple-blue wave staggered everyone in the room except for himself, dazing and knocking them back by several paces.

With perfect fluidity, Shepard brought his pistol back up in front of him and aimed it at one of the salarians. He had previously calculated that they were the most dangerous foes in the room: just one of them could bring down his shields with an overload faster than Fist could with his pistol.

His own pistol let out a vague number of barks and bright flashes. Although the weapon was discharged rapidly, Shepard's shots struck with cold, calculated precision. Before anyone knew what had happened, the salarian's shields shattered, followed by a shower of gore as his head exploded.

The turian was the first to recover. He brought his weapon to bear and opened fire on Shepard, screaming a fierce (but noticeably desperate) war cry.

Shepard's shields flashed, draining rapidly. With his gun partially overheated from taking out one of the Salarians, he knew there was absolutely no chance he could win a one-on-one firefight with Fist.

That's exactly why he didn't try to win it. Instead, Shepard changed the game entirely. His leg muscles plunged into overdrive as he made a beeline straight for the turian.

Shocked by the human's suicidal bravado, Fist hesitated imperceptibly. That was plenty of time for Shepard to throw his pistol straight in the alien's face. It crashed into the turian's mandibles, causing a gout of blue blood to spray as his facial carapace cracked.

Fist let out of howl of pain and began to fire his gun randomly. Some of the shots impacted Shepard's barriers, but most whizzed harmlessly by. Still, the human's personal shields were less than half full.

In short order Shepard had closed the distance. Despite being extremely confused and taken aback, Fist had enough sense to know what was coming. He activated an omni-blade and jabbed it straight toward Shepard's face.

What Fist didn't know, however, was that to rise to the top of the N7 division, Shepard had had to master hand-to-hand combat: a skill that was sorely neglected by most militaries, including the Broker's private army. It was a shame, really; melee attacks were incredibly useful. They bypassed shields, which was the exact reason Shepard had decided to use them.

Calling upon his training in a specialized form of san soo that had only grown more brutal since it's ancient inception centuries prior, Shepard sidestepped the strike. Dropping his pistol, one hand shot out and locked Fist's wrist in a steely grip. With lightning speed, the human used his other hand to strike Fist's arm in a weak point with as much force as he could muster.

The result was devastating. Shepard felt Fist's arm crunch sickeningly, completely shattered. The other man let out a bloodcurdling scream as he doubled over in agony.

Shepard wasn't done yet, though. He followed up with a swift elbow strike to the collapsing man's face that broke yet more facial bones. At the same time, he ripped the pistol out of Fist's claws, taking it as replacement for his own. As Fist fell, Shepard broke his knee with a swift kick just for good measure.

"Please…fuckdon't…AH! Fuck, god, I'm…" Fist begged, laying on his back as he writhed in unfettered torment.

Barely conscious of the effort, Shepard pointed Fist's own weapon at his face and pulled the trigger. His head exploded in a shower of gore as well, permanently silencing the scum's voice.

The remaining salarian, who had been waiting until his sight lines were clear, unleashed a blast of energy into Shepard: an overload attack. The electrical energy surged violently through his armor, scrambling the shield capacitors. Shepard's shields instantly dropped. Yet still some electrical energy remained, and his depleted shield battery was not powerful enough to absorb it. The blast overflowed into Shepard's own body instead, stunning him as he convulsed in pain.

The salarian aimed his own pistol, clearly ready to take advantage of his upper hand. Shepard might even have died right then and there if it wasn't for Tali. The last to recover from the barrier detonation due to her weakened state, she finally lurched into action.

The salarian's gun suddenly overheated, it's thermal processes plunged into chaos by Tali's cyber-attack programs. The amphibian man hissed as he reflexively dropped the searing hot weapon, it's heat already shredding his shields. Knowing the attack couldn't have come from his boss's killer, he turned to face the quarian, who was languidly moving towards the alleyway's exit.

Not relishing the idea of being on even footing, let alone weaponless, with a foe who had viciously ripped apart his squad, the salarian sprinted towards Tali. He overtook her in seconds. Too exhausted to fight back, Tali squealed as the alien grappled her and spun around so that she served as a body shield between him and Shepard.

While all this happened, Shepard had ample time to force his burning muscles to obey him. He jerked his pistol upward and pointed at the salarian, but was too late. The thug had already taken Tali hostage. Even know, his hands grasped her masked head.

"Back off!" he yelped. "Drop your weapon, or I'll snap her neck!"

Shepard eyed the salarian carefully. He perceived that the other man was telling the truth.

Yet there was also something else Shepard perceived: that tingling feeling in his nerves, the prickle in the back of his mind that indicated his biotic amp was ready to fire again.

"Alright," Shepard said evenly, dropping his weapon to the ground. It clattered obscenely to the dirty plastic floor of the alleyway.

To Tali, it sounded like a death knell.

"Please," the quarian begged. The last thing she wanted was to be captured by one of the Broker's men. Although at this point, she hadn't quite made up her mind which faction of this conflict was scarier.

Shepard met the woman's gaze. It wasn't clear if she was pleading with him to save her, or simply asking him not to accidentally hurt her to stop the thug.

Of course, she had no way of comprehending Shepard's inner turmoil over that very issue. He knew what he needed to do, but was terrified of doing it. If he wasn't fast enough, the amphibian would snap poor Tali's neck. Yet if he did nothing, she was just as doomed. It almost conflicted with his nature on a visceral level, but Shepard knew he paradoxically had to risk her life to have any chance of saving her.

"I'm getting out of here and…" the salarian began.

That's when Shepard acted, taking advantage of his opponent's foolish error of distracting himself by talking. His hand shot out as a curled fist. Dark energy surged for the second time, enveloping the Salarian in a tomb of undulating mass effect fields. His screams echoed through the alleyway as the biotic technique, "reave the soul", as the asari called it, ripped the man to literal pieces.

Luckily, Shepard's concentration had been strong enough to limit the size of the fields just enough to kill the man while also not damaging Tali. Shepard took a deep breath as he relaxed his body once more. That move, which he had learned from training with Asari commandos during his N7 days, severely taxed both his mind and body. Dizziness overcame him.

On some level, he was vaguely aware of Tali stumbling forward as she scrambled for a weapon. Before Shepard could decide to do anything, the Quarian was slumped on the ground and aiming one of the thug's pistols at him.

"Don't move," she gasped breathlessly.

"Okay," Shepard said, letting his arms go slack.

An awkward silence settled over the scene. In the following moments, Tali rose shakily to her feet, weapon still aimed at Shepard's head. With his shields still down, he knew that things could go either way if the quarian woman decided to open fire.

"Are you Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?" he decided to risk asking.

"Yes," Tali answered, nodding her head for redundancy. She didn't know if he had good khelish translation programs. "How do you…know who I am?" she asked.

"It's a long story. The important part is, I'm an N7 in the Systems Alliance. I'm working for the Council to prove that Spectre Saren Arterius has gone rogue and is working with the geth. My investigation lead me to Dr. Michel, who told me about you. I came looking for that data, and to make sure the Broker's men didn't kill you."

A pause. Then, "I appreciate your assistance, but I'm not sure I can trust you."

Shepard glanced down to the brutalized bodies that lay on the floor, as well as the gore that drenched Tali's back from the reave attack he had used on the salarian. In all likelihood, this young woman had never seen such violence before in her entire life, and that was after an incredibly traumatic couple of days as well.

He couldn't blame her, all things considered. Even as a hardened killer, Akuze and Mindoir still haunted both his dreams and waking hours. Learning to take life without remorse, and live with himself afterward, had been a breeze compared to the psychological damage of those events.

Shepard knew he had a fat chance of being able to make her understand that, though. Still, there had to be a way to set the woman at ease.

"Listen Miss Zorah," Shepard began, unsure if quarian titles worked the same as human ones. "I'm not here to hurt or threaten you. I just need that data, and I'm authorized to give you protection, medical care, and more, as compensation."

Tali practically gasped in shock. 'Miss Zorah'? No one had been that polite to her since coming to the Citadel, not even Dr. Michel. Maybe humans were different…first the caring doctor, and now this one. She was also glad to see that for all his ferocity, kindness was not limited to female members of the species. That just created more questions, though. For instance, did that mean that human women were just as violent when need be? It was interesting thought. Tali had read that humans adhered to slightly more restrictive gender roles than most species.

She shook her head. Now was not the time to let her curiosity about aliens distract from the very serious matter at hand. Yes, Shepard appeared very polite and non-threatening, at least to her.

Then again, so had the Broker. Perhaps the strange human was just laying on the charm since she had a gun pointed at him now.

"That's exactly what the Broker told me," Tali responded. Her fear and exhaustion was obvious in her voice. She narrowed her eyes, clearly focusing on maintaining her composure. "For all I know, you could be one of Saren's men."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. It was a bizarre gesture to her, especially viewing it through the narrow slit of clear material on his helm that showed his eyes. "You think a grizzled turian Spectre and veteran of the first contact war hires human hitmen?"

Tali shook her head, acquiescing the point. Clever human. "You're right. But…" she began, interrupted by a groan of pain as her spiking fever started a bad headache. "You could be working for someone else, though. I'm not stupid. And I'm sure as hell not making the same mistake I did by trusting Fist again."

Shepard nodded. "That's completely fair. Look, I can show you my digital N7 dog tag if you want, so you'll know I'm really with the Alliance. In fact, I can send it to your omni-tool."

Tali nodded, activating the device. A moment later, a data packet appeared on the holographic screen. Her VI, Chiktikka, whom Tali had personally coded from scratch, informed her that Shepard's credentials were legitimate. It also provided her a definition of "N7", and "dog". Why a four-legged human mammal from earth was chosen to describe military documents, she had no idea. Humans were bizarre, but never boring.

"Okay, I believe you," Tali said, turning off her omni-tool as she looked up. Shepard stood stock still, hands at his sides again. He easily could have attacked or rebooted his shield battery while she was distracted, Tali realized. What a rookie mistake. Her father would be furious with her. Shepard's continued passivity was a good sign, though. "That doesn't…doesn't win me over…though," Tali panted. Her arm wound had flared up again, and it felt as if the fever was intensifying. The inside of her suit felt like fire and her vision began to swim. "Forgive me, but…people haven't exactly treated me well since I…since I came here. Including…the Alliance."

It was easy for Shepard to see where she was coming from. He'd gotten the story from Michel. Truly, it was a horrific tale. Frankly, after all Tali had been through, he was amazed she was still alive, let alone capable of walking and aiming a gun at him. Hell, this 120 pound quarian female possessed more grit than some of the men he'd trained with in the Alliance. Had they gone through what she had, many them would have given up.

That was it, Shepard realized; this woman possessed an iron will that refused to surrender. She was one of those people who could endure anything, and was willing to do whatever she had to survive at this point. Shepard could also tell from her stance, her body language, the way she aimed that weapon, even though her frame threatened to collapse from strain, that she'd received significant military training (though definitely not as extensive as his own).

Even so, it was plain that she didn't want to kill if it wasn't necessary. He didn't know how he knew, but he just *did*; Shepard was good at reading people that way. It was one of the things that made him such an excellent squad leader and tactician. It also engendered respect in him for her. Being able to kill when necessary, but not enjoying it, was an admirable trait that he wished he could live up to. Sometimes, his hatred for wicked people just made him so mad that he saw red and almost enjoyed seeing them die.

Shepard had an idea. He slowly began to reach his hands up to his helmet. Tali twitched, but refrained from shooting once she realized that he wasn't going for a weapon.

Moments later, Shepard had removed his combat helmet. He tossed it to the ground and looked straight into the glowing eyes behind the alien woman's mask. They were eyes filled with intelligence and pain.

A gun was now aimed at his exposed head. One jerk of a finger and it would all be over for him. He spoke calmly as if nothing about this situation was abnormal at all. "I've lost friends too. Seen a lot of death, even been close to it myself many times. I still can't imagine what this must be like for you, though. You're a civilian who didn't ask for this. Hell, you're not even a trained killer. You didn't deserve this. And to top it all off, the universe made you a species everyone hates with a weak immune system as well. Nothing about any of that means that you don't have the right to mistrust. However, I promise you that you can trust me. I know there's not much to go on, but it's the truth."

Shepard took a deep breath and continued. "So please, let me help you. You need medical attention immediately, if I'm not mistaken."

Tali looked down, then up, then down again. After a long moment of consideration, she lowered the weapon. "Okay," she said, nodding cheerfully. "I…"

Tali didn't get to complete the sentence. She pitched forward, stumbling as she fought for balance. The human was right: she desperately needed help, and it's not like she had any other recourse but to trust him at this point.

Shepard was there in an instant, steadying her. He knew enough medical basics to do field patch jobs, but next to nothing about malnutrition, dehydration, exhaustion, radiation poisoning, or quarian physiology for that matter. The best he could do was scan her with his omni-tool for a formal diagnosis.

The results were not good at all. "We need to get you back to Michel. I can't treat a quarian."

Tali nodded, the reasoning was sound. There was a problem though. "Her office…is…its half…halfway across this ward! And no…one…else would treat me," she muttered sadly.

Shepard bit his lip. She was right. According to his scan, her infection was reaching critical levels. There wasn't time, not with the congested Citadel streets. "I could…maybe force someone to…"

"Shepard, what the hell happened?!" Wrex said, storming into the alleyway, shotgun at the ready. Tali practically jumped at the sight of him, and likely would have run if it weren't for Shepard's presence. "Never mind," the Krogan bounty hunter muttered a second later, glancing at the carnage around them. "Figured it out. Oh, looks like you got that quarian too. That's-"

"Shut up!" Shepard barked.

Wrex's lips curled in naked aggression. Shepard didn't care.

"She needs medical attention. Now."

That seemed to get Wrex's attention. He knew how import her data was.

Before Tali could protest, Shepard wrapped a hand around her back and another around the back of her knees, lifting the quarian off her feet. She yelped in surprise, body going stiff as a board. He felt bad that he may have just crossed some cultural line, but if so, they'd deal with it later. Saving Tali was more important than etiquette.

"Wrex, I need the kind of crowd-clearing capability only a Krogan can provide. Understand?"

Wrex chuckled. "Oh, I know what you mean," he said, grinning wickedly.

Without further hesitation, the massive, hulking reptilian trudged over to the alley's exit. "I. AM. KROGAN!" Wrex bellowed before taking off at a brisk pace in the direction of Dr. Michel's clinic.

"Shit," Shepard murmured before running off in pursuit of the man. "He wasn't joking."

It wasn't long before they reached the busier sections of the wards. As Shepard rounded a corner, he saw a throng of people parting before Wrex like Moses before the red sea, screaming in terror as they did so. A heavily armored, biotically active, shotgun-wielding krogan warlord tended to evoke that response in people.

Shepard merely followed in his wake, completely unmolested by the terrified crowds. He had to admit that it was quite an effective tactic. With any luck, Garrus was with C-sec right now and could help them get out of any legal trouble they might be in after this.

He arrived at the clinic in short order to see a panting Wrex and a startled Dr. Michel. "He told me what happened," she said tersely, gesturing at Wrex. "Here, put Tali on that gurney. I'll help her."

Shepard did as she asked. Michel immediately began grabbing medical equipment and rummaging through containers filled with vials of drugs. He realized that at some point during the frantic dash, Tali had passed out. At least she was in good hands now, though. He could get that data on Saren later.

There wasn't time for Shepard to rest, though. He got on the comm channel he set up with Garrus and Wrex and informed the turian about the recent events. Soon after that, C-sec came knocking on Dr. Michel's door with Garrus in tow.

The officers were furious with the panic that he and Wrex had caused, but after a great deal of explaining and persuading, Shepard had gotten them to relax. It helped that Garrus was there to vouch for him, and that he had been granted official permission by the Council to act as needed in pursuit of the evidence against Saren.

With the details all worked out, C-sec agreed to post some guards in front of the clinic in case more of the Broker's or Saren's men came for Tali. "This had better be some damn special suit rat," the turian officer muttered.

Shepard felt like smashing that man in the face, but held back the urge. He didn't even say anything. Pissing off the authorities at this point could only hinder his efforts. It was not a wise move.

Instead, Shepard collapsed into one of the chairs that Michel kept in the office. The fight and subsequent medical evac of Tali had left him drained. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

"I checked out the alley on our way here," Garrus said, approaching him. "Found your gun and helmet; thought you might want them back."

"Thanks," Shepard said, taking the items from the turian.

"You know Shepard," Garrus said, shaking his head mirthfully. "In a few hours, you cleared out Cora's Den, took down some dangerous criminals, and rescued a quarian who had the intel we need. That's twice as much as the entirety of C-sec accomplishes in a week."

Shepard chuckled. "Yeah. I guess things are easier without that red tape you mentioned."

Garrus took the seat next to Shepard and joined him in watching Michel work on Tali. "You know, my people are often the most racist towards quarians," he began, shrugging. "I don't know why. Just is. But I'm not a very good turian; never have been, never will be. Even so, when I heard about her, all I could think about was the data. Seeing her now, like this…it changes your perspective."

"Yeah. Sometimes it takes getting to know people personally, seeing the fear of death in their eyes, that same fear any rational sapient creature has."

Garrus nodded. "Poor girl. I can't believe no one wanted to do anything to help before Michel. If I was there, I would've done something, at least, and damn the consequences if my fellow turians didn't like it. You know, you two probably restored her faith in aliens."

Shepard smiled bitterly. He didn't do it for the adoration and self-righteousness.

Michel interrupted their conversation by walking over.

"How is she, doctor? Will Tali make it?" Shepard asked.

Michel nodded enthusiastically, smiling. "Yes. I have her hooked up to dextro anti-biotics, nutrients, fluids, and anti-radiation meds. She just needs to get plenty of rest, at least a day's worth, and to let the medicine do its work."

"How is that possible?" Shepard asked. He could see what essentially amounted to IV's connected to a port in Tali's suit, but didn't understand how it worked.

"Ah, well, you see," Michel began, "the suits can inject medicine or other fluids intravenously. The exterior ports are designed to sanitize whatever comes in, then transfer it to Tali's hypodermic needles. Her cybernetic implants monitor and control everything. It is all very sophisticated, very well-designed. Very interesting."

"That makes sense," Shepard replied. "I guess when I really think about it, I don't know that much about quarians."

Michel was about to comment on that, but was interrupted by a yawn from Shepard. "You know, you don't look so good," she told him, changing the topic. "Maybe you should get some rest too."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm fine," Shepard protested, even as he winced in pain. With the adrenaline worn off, the full impact of the electric shock and exertion was taking its toll. It didn't help that his beacon-migraine was intensifying, either. "I need to stay here in case the Broker or Saren's men come back." He punctuated his proclamation with a self-administered dose of medi-gel.

"It'll be fine," Garrus said, placing his hand on Shepard's shoulder for emphasis. "C-sec might not be good for much, but they know how to place a guard detail. Too much practice from protecting the wealthier wards while the slums are left to rot. Anyway, I'll be here, and I'll make sure that no harm comes to either of them."

Shepard nodded. Garrus had provided and excellent excuse. While he didn't relish the thought of dreaming about Akuze and Mindoir, now with the added flavor of biomechanical monster nightmares, he recognized that he did need more rest.

"Alright. Call me if she wakes up. We need that data asap. You guys have my extranet address." Shepard gave the turian and krogan a casual salute, then turned to leave. "Michel, thank you so much for doing this. I can't imagine that treating Tali twice is cheap."

"No, it's not," Michel agreed, sighing. "But that's not what it's about. I was glad to help."

"You'd do any Alliance medic proud. You risked your life to save some quarian no one else cared about or would have blamed you for turning away. That takes serious bravery."

Michel blushed. "Thank you. I just do what I can."

Shepard nodded to her, then strode out of the clinic. Once he was far enough way, he sent 1,000 credits to her extranet address. He knew that the woman would never accept payment for doing the right thing, but he felt she deserved something for going above and beyond. It wasn't very often he got to meet people of such strong moral character.

And besides, he had thousands of credits from Alliance back pay and inheritance. They were just sitting in his bank account, collecting dust. Shepard never spent them; he was too busy trying to escape his demons by burying himself in military work.

On his way back to the Normandy, Shepard reflected on the events of the day. For some reason, he couldn't get Tali out of his head. Maybe he was imagining things, but Shepard could swear that a 'moment', some kind of invisible understanding had passed between him and Tali in that alleyway.

She had suffered, he realized. He didn't know if it was as intense as his, or even what form it took, but she did. What had happened on the Citadel had surely added to those scars. And it wasn't easy being a quarian, Shepard guessed. The whole galaxy seemed to have it out for them due to the sins of their ancestors.

He'd also come to admire the woman in their very limited interactions. She was obviously extremely intelligent, determined, and brave. She'd stood up to him despite that fact that he was half-again her size and twice her weight, after all.

Shepard brushed the thought aside. Whatever kinship they might have had, it was an illusion. They were different races from different cultures. Whatever crazy dream Shepard's tired mind had conjured up, it wasn't worth thinking about. He wasn't the type of man who had, who should have, friends. His life was dangerous, and his friends had a habit of getting killed. He was a ruthless killer. The military was his life, and after this business with Saren, he'd dive back into it.

It was all Shepard knew.

A/N: We'll get a chance to see Tali's thoughts about Shepard. Next one will be more Tali-centric, I promise.