Killer
Kaidan wasn't sure what to expect, coming back to Chora's Den not two days after being involved in a pitched battle within its walls. He supposed the place was too profitable to be shut down over pesky things like bullet holes, bloodstains and the abrupt disappearance of its owner. Regardless, there didn't seem to be any kind of reduction in the number of patrons; indeed there may have been more now. Cynically, he decided a gunfight might only have added to the appeal.
He didn't feel quite so out of place to be here in regular fatigues as opposed to full armor, but Shepard, Chief Williams and himself were still conspicuously armed. The Stinger pistol he had obtained recently was clipped to his belt, the weight of it a constant reminder of the possible threats lurking on the Citadel, courtesy of the now discredited Spectre Saren.
He'd been surprised when Shepard had simply handed him the gun outside the farmers' hab-unit on Eden Prime, as if it were the natural choice. Tactically he supposed it was, since both the commander and Williams only used their sidearms as holdout weapons, but he'd assumed she would take it. The Devlon pistol was higher quality than his standard-issue Hahne-Kedar, rated with superior muzzle velocity and heat dispersion, but he still felt a little queer about having it at all. Acquiring weapons in the field had never before been part of his normal modus operandi, and he wondered about the legality of randomly appropriating smuggled goods. Still, he couldn't argue with the results, so he was inclined to trust Shepard's judgment.
The crowd in attendance was mixed, mostly turians, but with a generous number of other species as well. A reptilian krogan with a dark blue crest loomed near the door. Kaidan was faintly startled to realize it was the same bouncer who had been shooting at them just the other day. That the alien was still here spoke both to the krogan's resilience and to their famously mercenary tendencies. The bulky bouncer eyed their weapons, then glowered at Shepard.
"No trouble," he growled.
The commander glanced at the krogan, then moved past into the entranceway as if she was the new owner come to inspect the premises. She stopped just inside and scanned the room, squinting in the dim light.
"There he is... I'll handle this. You two keep your eyes open, it shouldn't take long," she said briskly. She started moving through the crowd toward the back of the large hall, past the bar.
"That means keeping your tongue inside your head, LT," Williams said helpfully.
"You're welcome to cover that side, Chief," he replied evenly, waving a hand toward the section reserved for 'private' shows where several scantily-clad asari were gyrating for appreciative customers.
Before she could object he headed off around the other side of the bar, where there were more tables, and by the looks of things, where the more serious drinking was going on. He picked his way carefully around various people toward the wall, dodging waitresses and trying to find a place where he could keep an eye on the commander's immediate vicinity while not standing out like a sore thumb. He caught the gaze of a trio of turians who appeared to be sizing him up, but it was difficult to judge if they were focused on him, his weapon, or his uniform. Soon, though, they turned back to whatever discussion they were having.
Kaidan eventually found an empty spot against the wall where the neighboring tall table generally concealed his gun. The two salarians standing there turned to glance at him with their huge black eyes, but he ignored them.
He wondered how many people here even knew about recent events, or at least anything accurate. Rumors would be rampant, but it would no doubt take time for the truth about Shepard's new position to filter down to the denizens of a place like this. It was probably also fairly safe to assume the vast majority of patrons had no interest whatsoever in recent politics, so long as the booze kept flowing.
A few minutes later, amid the buzz of conversation, he suddenly thought he heard his name being called. He peered into the crowd around the tables, and caught sight of someone waving at him. He glanced back to where Shepard was standing, but saw nothing unusual. Figuring he'd be able maintain his line of sight, he wandered in the direction of the table.
By the time he got close enough to recognize the two humans sitting there, it was too late.
Oh great. Of all the bars...
Service Chief Jefferson had a mop of unruly blond hair that was probably pushing the limits of regulation length, and a round face that made him look rather younger than his actual age. By contrast, Corporal Marcus was lean and angular, with features that hinted at ancestry somewhere in the Pacific countries of Earth, and short-cropped black hair. Both were wearing marine fatigues, though the clothes were now somewhat the worse for wear. It was immediately apparent they'd both been here for some time and were well into several drinks. How heartwarming to know they keep proud traditions alive.
"Alenko... damn it's been a while," Marcus drawled, slouched indolently in his seat. Despite their respective ranks, he'd always been the leader of this little pair. "Never thought you'd turn up in a place like this."
"Life is interesting that way, isn't it?" Kaidan replied casually, in lieu of several possible, far less polite answers that cropped up in his head.
"Keeping in shape there, Killer?" Marcus asked, tapping his temple with one finger.
Drop dead. "Of course," Kaidan said in a flat tone. "I'd be happy to demonstrate, but I'm on the clock here."
Jefferson laughed, a shrill noise that never failed to get on Kaidan's nerves. "Oh man, whose ass did you have to kiss to get that assignment?"
"Seriously," Marcus said, "did the brass send you down here to write a report on how much the girls charge?" The two men sniggered as if this were high comedy.
These two weren't worth my time then, and they sure as hell aren't now. Kaidan opened his mouth to excuse himself when Marcus abruptly cut him off.
"And who's this fine piece of ass with you?" the corporal said, looking past Kaidan with a wide grin.
"That-" Kaidan started, glancing over his shoulder with the full expectation of seeing Chief Williams. His words died in his throat when Commander Shepard herself casually stepped past him. "... would be... my CO," he finished lamely, feeling a sudden urge to punt the two men hard into the back wall. He forced himself to keep his hands firmly at his sides.
Arms folded, Shepard regarded the two leering marines with a raised eyebrow. Possibly the less drunk of the two, Jefferson's lascivious grin suddenly wilted. His eyes flicked from Shepard to Kaidan and back again, widening as recognition slowly set in. Hovering behind his commander, Kaidan's profound embarrassment was quickly transforming into a certain perverse satisfaction. He wondered vaguely if the universe was allowing him a measure of karmic revenge by letting these two marines skewer themselves on their own idiocy.
Williams appeared at his elbow. "Hostiles?" she asked him lightly.
"Bilge," Kaidan muttered, glancing back at her.
"More of them! I like where this is going..." Marcus drawled, eyeing the gunnery chief up and down and blithely forging ahead. "Can I buy you ladies a drink, maybe a lapdance?" He waved expansively towards the asari entertainers.
The flush of alcohol seemed to have drained entirely out of Jefferson's face as he looked sharply at his friend with an expression of dawning horror.
"We were just leaving," Shepard said crisply, turning toward Williams. "We shouldn't detain these gentlemen any longer, I'm sure they have lots of packing to do."
"Packing for wha-" Marcus' comment was cut off abruptly as the blond SC cuffed him in the shoulder and hissed something between clenched teeth.
"I hear Titan is chilly this time of year... what do you think, Chief?" Shepard asked coolly.
"There are a lot of toilets to clean on Arcturus, ma'am," Williams suggested helpfully.
Kaidan was unable to resist shooting the two gaping men a smug smirk now that his companions were looking elsewhere. Marcus' mouth was working soundlessly, and for a moment the look he threw Kaidan was almost pleading.
"We're done here," the commander pronounced, then turned and strode away. Kaidan followed, not bothering to spare Marcus and Jefferson another word. The three of them threaded their way through the crowd past the bar to the door, still guarded by the sullen krogan bouncer.
"Friends of yours, Lieutenant?" Shepard asked, once the door cycled shut behind them.
"Uh, no ma'am," he replied emphatically. "They were in my unit on the New Delhi, four years ago."
"Quite the couple of assholes," Williams observed.
"Certified, grade-A assholes," Kaidan confirmed, "who've apparently failed to grow up."
"Grow up? More like evolve..." Williams smirked.
He shrugged. "I guess they're cozy down there with the rest of the primordial ooze."
"Killer?" Shepard inquired mildly, glancing back at Kaidan as they walked.
Godammit. Kaidan composed his face into a bland mask. "An old, bad joke not worth repeating, ma'am," he said vaguely, silently praying the commander wouldn't ask. He had no interest in going into either the incident at Jump Zero or how Jefferson and Marcus had come to find out about it, not here and with the Chief in tow.
Mercifully, Shepard let it pass. Whether she'd detected his discomfort or simply bought his act was up for debate, but Kaidan strongly suspected the former. In the few days they'd spent at the Citadel, his commander had already displayed a remarkable skill at diplomacy and reading people that was sometimes uncanny. I suppose they didn't invite her to be a Spectre just because she can shoot straight.
"So did Septimus play ball, Commander?" Williams asked as they passed through a door into a poorly lit connecting hallway.
"He did. Apparently he was the one leaking Xeltan's information, too," Shepard replied.
"So a turian general compromised diplomatic security... because a woman rejected him?" Kaidan said skeptically.
Williams cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "Don't underestimate us, LT," she said with a narrow smile. "So what did you tell him, ma'am?"
"I appealed to his sense of honor," the commander said, pitching her voice in imitation of the asari consort's smooth lilt.
"At least we can get out of here and go back to the Presidium," Kaidan said, peering into the dingy alleyway.
"Oh yes, let's hurry back so the consort can drip all over me some more," Shepard replied laconically.
Kaidan blinked, somewhat taken aback. Back in the consort's chambers, the commander had given no indication whatsoever she'd been bothered by Sha'ira's rather forward manner. That she'd so smoothly run with a situation that would have left him floundering only reinforced his assessment of Shepard's skills.
"Some people pay a lot of credits for those drippings," the chief observed.
"And wait six months, apparently," the commander mused. "Frankly, they're welcome to it. Wanton invasions of my personal space by total strangers isn't how I normally choose to start my day."
Kaidan experienced a mild sense of relief... the whole meeting with the asari, beautiful though she was, had left him feeling strangely prickly.
The three of them emerged through another door into a market section. The ceiling was higher here, and beyond the throng of shoppers Kaidan could make out the sweeping arc of a neighboring Ward and the purple nebula beyond. Aliens of all color and dress moved about, and the drone of conversation filled the air.
"Time to absorb some local color," Shepard said in a businesslike tone. "There's some right now. I wonder what mods he has in stock..." She broke away and strode over to a merchant stall, leaning on the counter to address its rotund volus owner.
Left standing a few paces back, Kaidan looked around the crowded marketplace, Williams at his side.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you, LT?" she said suddenly, favoring him with a lopsided smile.
"Hm?" he replied absently.
"The jerks in Chora's Den?"
"Possibly." He allowed himself a slight grin.
"You know, you are an officer, you could have just written them up yourself."
"Where's the fun in that?" Kaidan said innocently. "Anyway, I don't really care if the commander writes them up or not."
"You're right, getting to watch a couple of meat-heads wet their pants in terror is worth the price of admission." Her own grin was wicked.
"I'll cherish the memory, Chief."