Mock Effect 2
Chapter 4: REAL Leather
INT: OMEGA: AFTERLIFE CLUB: DAY
JANE: Allright, we've upgraded what we can, we're in armor that doesn't immediately identify us as terrorists and I'm hesitantly about to let you take over Johnny. Just remember what the Asari said about shooting up her club, ok?
JOHN: Yeah yeah yeah. Tossed out an airlock into a scorpion pit. Whatever.
JANE: No, not whatever. I have no desire to spacewalk without a helmet.
JOHN: Fine. No shooting up the club. Aside from that, I'm in charge this time?
JANE: (Reluctantly) For now. Just try not to do anything too stupid, please…
JOHN: Then I'm bringing in Zaeed and… What's her face… the hot chick. He can shoot, and I need to save her life again if I'm ever going to get lucky.
JANE: Yep… Psychopath and the Terrorist Spy… Not stupid at all.
JOHN: Hey, you said I was in charge.
JANE: Fine. Zaeed & Miranda it is then.
(They enter the recruiting station for the Blue Suns. The CLERK is very busy)
CLERK: Next! Hmm. Boy you guys are well prepared. Grenade launchers, machine pistols, is that a hand cannon? Looking for a fight are we?
JOHN: Ab-so-lutely.
JANE: (Mutters) Doesn't matter if we do, one always finds us.
CLERK: (Noticing Jane) Sorry honey, you're in the wrong place, the stripper signups are across the way.
(JANE just stares at him, mouth agape.)
JOHN: I guess the stripper standards are a bit more lax out here. Get along then.
(JANE draws her pistol and puts it under JOHN's chin.)
JOHN: Uh… nevermind? (JANE cocks pistol) uh… Sorry sis. I didn't mean it. Please don't blow my head off.
JANE: (Holstering Pistol) That's better.
CLERK: Er…. Maybe not, then. Anyhow, the standard fee is 500 credits each. You get paid when the job's done if you survive.
JANE: if we survive?
CLERK: (Ignoring her) If you do not survive, your friends will not collect your share, and anything left on your body will become the property of the quickest responding gang member. You'll need your own armor and weapons. Please fill out these next of kin forms.
JANE: Wait a minute, you keep mentioning survival. Is there a high likelihood we're going to die?
CLERK: Listen girlie, we're funneling untrained morons across an unprotected space against an entrenched sniper. The chances of survival are next to nil. Ask the boss why if you want, but I have no clue. I'm just thrilled to have pulled recruitment duty today.
JOHN: Why all the fuss for this guy? I'm all for shooting someone in the face, but what's one crusader going to do that's worth a three gang cooperative to remove him?
CLERK: Everything he does pisses someone off. It's catching up to him. If he's not interrupting our initiation rituals, he's interfering with our minor robberies. Last month he shot up our leading reform candidate. He sent a message saying that was a mistake; that we should still reform. By that time we weren't interested.
JOHN: That's a shame, it's always annoying when you shoot the wrong people. Anyhow, where do we sign?
CLERK: Here, here and here. What kind of flowers do you want sent to your loved ones? The Blue Suns want you to know we care. Take a cab down to the hideout, you'll get more "directions" there. It was nice knowing you! Next!
(A KID walks in, waving a newish gun around)
KID: Is this where I sign up for some action?
JOHN: Over there.
JANE: Aren't you a little young?
KID: Yeah, but I make up for my lack of experience with enthusiasm! Down with Archangel! RAH RAH RAH!
JANE: This isn't a pep rally, you imbecile. Here let me see your gun.
(The KID hands it to her, boasting)
KID: I got it for 50 credits at the pawn shop. Time to kick some ass!
(JANE swiftly jams it with a broken heat sink.)
JANE: There you go. Now if you try to fire it, it will blow up in your face, accomplishing your goal of suicide much more efficiently.
CLERK: Excuse me; I'm trying to run a business here! Can you take your moral lecture somewhere else? Next!
(They exit the recruiting center, and start walking to the cab stand)
JOHN: You said I was in charge.
JANE: When it comes to bad guys, sure. When it comes to stupid kids and virtual suicide, I make the rules. Sorry. Just think of it as less blood to clean off your armor.
JOHN: I hate you.
INT: OMEGA: ARCHANGEL'S HIDEOUT: DAY
(They take a cab to the hot zone, whereupon they are greeted by a polite batarian)
BATARIAN: Good afternoon, and welcome to the Archangel annihilation zone. My name's Salkie, I'll be your guide for a few minutes. It looks like you came prepared.
JOHN: Yep. Now where's the target? I'm looking forward to shooting his eyes out!
JANE: (Whispers) We're not trying to kill him Johnny… We're trying to recruit him.
JOHN: Yeah yeah yeah, shut up, I'm having fun. So where's the target?
SALKIE: Just follow the bodies, you can't miss it. You'll be acting as the distraction team, so the guys we've managed to sneak over there can get close enough to take him down.
JANE: How'd you get past his sniper fire?
SALKIE: We pinned him down with a gunship.
JOHN: You have a gunship, and he's still up there?
SALKIE: Er… well, we kind of don't have it anymore. He shot it down…
JOHN: Now that's what I'm talking about! A real challenge.
JANE: So how many guys are attacking this lone sniper?
SALKIE: Three gang's worth, but instead of wasting manpower, we've been recruiting morons to run into his line of fire on the promise of cash if they succeed where the rest failed. It's been tremendously entertaining.
JOHN: See, I told you. Everybody loves a good headshot.
SALKIE: Go see Sgt. Cathka. He'll tell you when to go across.
JANE: Sure. (SALKIE leaves) Hold up guys, I want to look around a bit first.
(They politely smile and nod and walk into the various gang HQ's. Surprisingly, Archangel's been nailing most of the Gang's accountants, and with a little hacking skill, JANE picks up a not too shabby number of credits. In one alcove, there's a huge "Big Daddy" robot like the one that nearly killed them on Freedom's Progress. JANE fiddles with it for a moment then allows JOHN to take them over to SGT. CATHKA)
JOHN: You Cathka?
CATHKA: (From behind engine) In a moment. I said I wasn't taking calls! (Steps out) Oh… must have gone for coffee. What can I do to help you?
JOHN: We're here to shoot Archangel.
CATHKA: That's what you interrupted me for? Get in line. I'll let you know when we're ready, princess. Not like you could hit anything anyway.
JOHN: (Blinks) Princess? Princess? Listen, you octopus, I can hit an four eyed nerd like you across a whole classroom! And believe me, I've had some big classrooms.
CATHKA: Whatever. Go whine to someone else, princess.
(JOHN's eye starts twitching, JANE pulls ZAEED and MIRANDA back. As they look on, JOHN takes the electric wrench spanner and shoves it into SGT. CATHKA's equipment pack. The attack buzzer drowns out the noise of the electrocuted batarian. JANE ushers them into the line, and they start crawling towards Archangel's lair.)
JANE: I shouldn't have let you do that.
JOHN: Princess…. Who's the princess now, jerk? He deserved it.
JANE: Then again, he was repairing the gunship that could attack us later on.
JOHN: Yeah, that's why I did it. Strategic planning, that's me. So do you think Archangel will know it's we're here to help?
JANE: Think about it. You've been fighting off wave after wave of fighters for hours on end, so high on caffeine you could light up the Citadel, and going just a bit crazy. Would you notice us?
ZAEED: Been there, done that. Goddam 4-hour energy drinks didn't even make it for 2 and a half. At that point, it's all slow moving blurs. Shoot the blurs, you live. That was a hell of a fight.
(They all look at him in surprise. Their confused sentiments are cut short by a clang as JOHN is hit in the chest by a bullet)
JOHN: (Wheezing but angry enough to shout) We're here to help you, you fricking moron!
(The closest freelancer does a double take, then runs terrified back across the bridge. Taking out several more very surprised freelancers, they arrive at the door to the lair)
JOHN: Archangel? Hello?
(The Turian in front of them holds up a finger, and the team waits impatiently as he takes out the last remaining mercenary. He then turns to them and dramatically removes his helmet, revealing GARRUS VAKARIAN)
JOHN: Oh shit. I'm out of here. Hey, guys, you can kill him now. We're sorry!
JANE: Not so fast now. Maybe he's not as boring as he used to be.
GARRUS: Guys, I'm right here. I can hear you. How come you aren't dead?
JANE: We're not… anymore… I think. I'll explain it later.
JOHN: No thanks to you, Mr. I'll-Shoot-My-Rescuers…
GARRUS: You were part of a heavily armed attack force that has spent the better part of the last few days trying to kill me. I was supposed to notice you were different? Thanks for shouting that out by the way, I got in a lot of shots at shocked mercs.
JANE: (Dryly) No problem. No offense, but what the hell are you doing here? In Game 1 you were at best a mediocre human shield, at worst, you were nearly killing hostages.
GARRUS: Don't worry, I still do that, but I've picked up some new skills. I got tired of C-Sec and all it's bureaucratic crap…
JOHN: Oh come on, not this again!
GARRUS: So I decided to come out here and lay waste to all the criminal lords in the area. Back at C-Sec, we never had decent sniper rifles.
JOHN: (Suddenly paying attention) Actually, that doesn't sound so bad. Shooting people interests me.
JANE: I don't imagine that went over well.
GARRUS: Er… no. I'm throwing a major kink in their operations, not to mention the fragile local economy. But killing mercs is hard work. I've had to study up on gangland tactics. Would you believe that Eclipse uses cement shoes for disposing of undesirables? It's all very impractical. Have you any idea how long cement takes to solidify?
JANE: (Mutters) Probably as long as it will take archaeologists to find our bodies. (Aloud) How did you wind up with the name Archangel?
GARRUS: The locals gave it me for… for….(Searching for a logical reason) all my good deeds.
(JANE raises an eyebrow)
GARRUS: (Sigh) I don't know. It just sounded badass. "The Punisher" was taken. I tried to call Wrex for some name ideas but he's been very busy lately. Something about his new writing career.
MIRANDA: Well, if you three are finished reminiscing, the robots climbing over the wall might need your attention.
JANE: Well it was polite of them to wait until we ran out of topics.
JOHN: Ooh, robots. Can I see?
(GARRUS hands him the Sniper Rifle. JOHN headshots a robot, exploding it in the middle of its compatriots. JANE, MIRANDA, and ZAEED join in, leaving nothing but spare parts lying around.)
GARRUS: I'm just going to take a nap on the couch over here. You guys keep up the good work. (Immediately falls asleep)
JOHN: Jackass. He thinks withstanding a siege for days on end gives him an excuse to nap?
JANE: Well… remember the Alamo! Let's get ready to fight!
MIRANDA: As I recall, that siege ended in the few survivors being massacred.
JANE: Miranda, work with me here. It's catchy. Readers like catchy. "Remember That Time Nobody Died!" just doesn't carry the same sort of emotion.
(They are interrupted from discussing various slogans by the arrival of the "Big Daddy" robot. JOHN, MIRANDA, and ZAEED all shrink back.)
JANE: (Standing up) This should be interesting. Anybody want popcorn?
JOHN: Are you nuts? The last time we saw one of those things, it nearly killed us!
JANE: This one won't. Look, it's wiping out all the Eclipse troops. Incidentally, does anyone know why they quit hiring freelancers and are sending valuable gang members into battle?
(JOHN gets up and looks out, equally puzzled. They applaud as the last gang member manages to blow the Big Daddy's head off, but is killed in the ensuing explosion. JANE goes to wake up GARRUS)
JANE: Hey, Garrus, they're gone!
GARRUS: (Sleepily) No, the Punisher doesn't take bribes. Go tell the Blood Pack I said hello…
JANE: (Shaking him) Garrus, they're gone! Wake up, we can leave now!
GARRUS: (One eye open) Listen, Shepard, I don't know whether you can count or not, but there were three gangs out there. Have you fought off three gangs?
JANE: No… But you should have seen how I reprogrammed that Big Daddy robot.
GARRUS: Uh huh. Wake me up when you wipe them all out. I've had a rough week, I'm going back to sleep now.
JOHN: Well, that was helpful. Not. At least I'll be able to shoot something.
(They hear an explosion from below them)
JANE: What was that?
ZAEED: An explosion below us. Don't you pay attention to the Goddam narrator?
JANE: Thanks Zaeed. I suppose we should check it out… John, you stay up here and shoot the bridge people. Try to make sure they don't shoot Garrus. (Garrus starts snoring)
JOHN: Fine. Have fun down there.
(JANE & team walk into the basement. Apparently, Garrus' method of locking his basement off consisted of a few rather flimsy looking garage doors. They close the doors, shoot a few Vorcha, and head back upstairs. Unsurprisingly, the Blood Pack gang has gotten around the doors and is swarming the place. However they aren't expecting Archangel to have help, and all the minions are easily beaten. All that's left is one Boss Krogan)
KROGAN: RAHHH! You think you can attack me, Archangel? In my own home? Well, let's see how you like it!
(Krogan uses shotgun to blast the couch that Garrus is lying on. Nothing happens. Then, the sound of Garrus' snoring is heard. JOHN rejoins the team and they all fire at once, wiping out the Krogan. JANE tries to wake up Garrus again)
JANE: Come on, you idiot, wake up! You just barely escaped a shotgun blast to the back of your head; I'd think you'd want to get up now!
GARRUS: (Mutters sleepily) Go ahead… make my day. The Punisher is tougher than all the monkeys on Eletania….
JANE: (Slaps him) Enough!
GARRUS: (Yawning) What is it now? That was a good dream!
JANE: We've shut your garage doors downstairs, and wiped out this huge Krogan right behind you. He shot up your couch, but it doesn't have the slightest mark!
GARRUS: Yeah. Designed that myself. When I wasn't wiping out hideouts, I fiddled with some upholstery. Not very good though. Heavy as hell. Have you wiped out the third gang yet?
JANE: Well…. No. But you were nearly shot in the head, I figured you'd want to be woken up now.
GARRUS: Right. Exactly. Good work… (Dozes off again)
JANE: OK then. I suppose I'd still be tired too.
JOHN: Useless Turian. How did he ever get all these people mad at him?
ZAEED: Maybe he slept on a Goddam public bench.
(While discussing their xenophobic problems with Turians, JOHN & ZAEED are interrupted by a huge gunship blowing out all the windows. The whole team ducks behind Garrus' couch. The gunship then moves away, allowing them to take on the landing troops piece by piece. They run downstairs to take out the last squad. The gunship reappears upstairs, and fires point blank at the couch where GARRUS is still dozing. The bullets still don't pierce the strange upholstery, but the pressure they exert turns the couch over, making it land on top of GARRUS. Blue blood is seen and we're led to believe he is seriously wounded.)
JANE: GARRUS! Come on guys!
JOHN: (As they run) I thought I wiped this thing out by electrocuting that guy.
JANE: Guess not.
JOHN: Well, we can remedy that…
(JOHN turns on his incendiary ammo and shoots the Gunship's fuel tanks. It explodes leaving several very sharp pieces of shrapnel sticking out of various surfaces. JANE runs to GARRUS' side. JOHN starts unlocking his safe. GARRUS takes a ragged breath. Dramatic music plays.)
INT: NORMANDY: NIGHT
(JANE & JOHN & JACOB are all standing around a conference table, JACOB is speaking)
JACOB: Commanders, we've done what we could for Garrus, but he took a bad hit…
JANE: Waaaaait a minute. Hold everything. How did we get here? One second ago we were trapped in an isolated part of a gang planet/asteroid with a severely wounded compatriot and tons of pissed off gang members between us and the exit. How are we back on the ship now? Why is the Armory head giving me a medical report? And why don't we have any chairs?
JACOB: You don't remember? The gang members all fled before your awesomeness, the supermedigel in your pack saved Garrus' life, I traded reporting duties for night watch with Dr. Bastillasmother, and Cerberus figured you'd prefer to stand up or lean on your elbows.
JOHN: Now that's my kind of reporting! Fled before my awesomeness!
JANE: Fine. Whatever. Idiot writers.
JACOB: Can I finish my report now? I have to go polish the galactic map stand for Yeoman Chambers.
JANE: Proceed.
JACOB: As I was saying, he took a bad hit. He's going to have back pain for a long time. That couch was heavy. Also, the way he landed broke his neck armor, so it looks like he got shot. I don't think Tim will approve new armor for a Turian, so you'd better get used to it.
(GARRUS walks in, rubbing his neck gently. JACOB salutes and leaves)
GARRUS: (Yawning) Did I miss anything? Wait… how did I get here? Last I remember I had a couch on top of me.
JOHN: We already did that joke.
GARRUS: Oh. Well that sucks. So what do I do now?
JANE: I guess you're recruited.
GARRUS: Recruited for what? I was having a blast down there on Omega.
JOHN: Saving the Galaxy.
GARRUS: Again?