To those who have been following Preitor's story – sorry for the delay, again a lot going on in my life (moving house, helping my father move, work, work, work and more work) and once again I've been distracted by other artistic pursuits (although I'd love to be able to draw a turian - any turian, but alas my skills are somewhat lacking!). I promise the next chapter won't be so long in coming!
Once again I'd like to thank my beta readers Raga, Meekzu(Moranth - still trying for a shirtless Thane, I haven't forgotten!) and Jane (Coombsi).
Preitor scraped his talons down the back of his neck, the release of tension sending a release to his core and coaxing a loud and frustrated sigh from his mouth.
Spirits, why is this flight taking so damn long?
He'd started the trip calmly enough, feeling relaxed about how he and his brother had parted. But after 4 hours, his patience was wearing thin. His right leg shook, a tick he exhibited when bored or nervous. This feeling wasn't helped by two incredibly noisy children kicking seats, yelling, squealing and generally serving as painful reminders of the confined space the adults on board found themselves in. Complaints of a dozen other passengers about their behaviour had failed to silence them or motivate the oblivious asari parents.
Preitor fidgeted in his seat again. Only one more hour…
The turian next to him turned and looked pointedly at his vibrating leg.
"Do you mind?"
"Oh, uh, sorry." He placed his hand on his knee to stop the movement and looked around the cabin. There was the usual smattering of turians and the occasional asari. Two snooty salarians sitting near the rear of the cabin hadn't looked happy at the seating arrangement. Now, seated as they were just behind the asari family and between two gibbering younger turians, they appeared even more ropable than when they first sat down. Preitor overheard their insistence that the turian steward find them better seating, preferably in the premium section of the ship, but it fell on deaf ears.
Preitor craned his head into the aisle determined to get a better look at those seated in the premium part of the cabin. He'd seen a small party of chatty volus take their seats when they boarded –their wheezing voices exhaling in unison as they shuffled towards their seats.
He also managed to catch a glimpse of the rarest of passengers – especially on a turian ship leaving a turian colony – a lone human. He couldn't see her from his position, but her outfit pinned her as a diplomat or businessperson. Humans didn't come to turian-dominated colonies for fun.
His interaction with humans had been limited to shopkeepers and mercs, and he'd never spoken to one about anything other than business. He found them terse but polite mostly, although some seemed to have distaste for turians. So far, he hadn't had any unpleasant dealings. Technically, learning about the history of the first contact war was supposed to instil a loathsome hatred towards them. However, his general indifference was tinged with a slight curiosity.
He picked up his datapad and sighed, thoughts drifting towards Dex. Damn he was persistent. Despite ending their relationship many months ago, he had yet to disengage himself fully from the needy turian. Dex's behaviour veered between clinginess when Preitor wasn't around and affected distance when he was. Both these traits Preitor detested and were the major reason for breaking it off. Yet he couldn't say no. Okay the company wasn't great, but good food and sex always lifted the mood.
The usual correspondence between them involved Dex cajoling Preitor into going somewhere (usually where Dex's affluent friends gathered) only to be left to his own devices whilst Dex 'worked the room'. Whatever weight Preitor had put on in the last year was due to him standing alone next to a bountiful buffet.
It had been a slow process, but Preitor had gradually moved away from the colourful turian who had been his lover for almost a year. He was never very successful at ending relationships; they seemed to limp on until the other party moved on, finally allowing him to be free, but without the hard work.
He opened up the junk mail section of his inbox, 24 messages since he'd been gone. He pressed the delete all button.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice over the ship's intercom. "Due to an unexpected solar wind event we'll be arriving at Nos Astra 30 minutes earlier than our scheduled time. Thank you."
Thank the spirits for that… Preitor tried to stare down the noisy asari children who were now climbing from seat to seat, not like a good little turian. These asari were spoilt little bastards. He caught himself and laughed, that's something Caius would have said.
Half an hour later, they arrived at Nos Astra. When he finally stepped off the ship and into the terminal, he stopped, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Nos Astra had a familiar smell, one that immediately made him feel alive again, a strange smell somewhere between ozone and an elcor berry bush, but it had infected him. A silly grin passed over his face and he opened his eyes.
Home.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made a direct line for the commuter cabs.
A recognisable voice stopped him before he made it to the back of the line.
"Preitor! Why didn't you tell me about your mother?"
A sudden sinking feeling invaded him and an inaudible groan escaped. He turned slowly towards the turian who had called his name.
"Hello, Dex," he said, tiredly.
"Jeanera told me about your mother. Poor Preitor, I could have come with you, supported you when you needed it most." His head bowed towards Preitor's in a sign of intimacy.
Preitor ignored it. "Jeanera, I don't remember…" His sometime business associate, Jeanera, an asari who seemed to know a lot of people and knew a lot about their lives as well had obviously spread the news around. How the hell she had found out was beyond him.
"Well… you see, Dex, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems…" He rubbed his mandible and shuffled his feet, before giving him a weak smile.
Dex eyed Preitor suspiciously before choosing to ignore the tell-tale sign that he was lying and instead grabbed the bag from Preitor's loose grip.
"No matter. You must come back to my place. I'll feed you a glorious meal, none of that backward colony rubbish you've been eating. Then later we can maybe go out for a few drinks and…"
Preitor didn't move, "Really, Dex. I just want to go back to my apartment. I'm really tired and I just want to be alone right now." Sitting through an overstuffed meal with his former lover was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Oh, you know I am here for you, always. Let me chauffeur you home at least." Dex's mandibles flared widely as he spoke.
Preitor acquiesced and let himself be led to the private cab Dex had waiting, a perk of being a tailor to Ilium's wealthy and socially important people.
As they climbed into the cab, Preitor noticed that there was a bottle of expensive asari wine. Dex shoved a glass into Preitor's hand and uncorked the bottle, filling both their glasses to the brim.
"To me!" Dex said haughtily before gulping down half the glass. When he finished he pestered Preitor to do the same. "Drink up!"
"Um, what are we celebrating?"
"Oh you haven't heard! Silly me!" Dex replied. He put the glass down, sat up straight, and smoothed his tunic top.
"I, Dexius Tullius, am to be…" He paused and took a deep breathe, closed his eyes, and put a hand over his heart, "a special costume consultant to Gavare Studios!"
Preitor looked at Dex his face passive. "Gavare Studios?"
"Yes, isn't it wonderful?"
"Dex, I have no idea what Gavare Studios is."
Dex's face fell. "Preitor, tell me you're kidding. In all the time you've known me, you can't say that to me."
"Well, yes I can because I honestly don't know who or what Gavare Studios is."
Dex leaned back in his seat and sighed. "You truly are a lost cause, Preitor." He crossed his arms in frustration. "Gavare Studios is the same company/studio who made Vaenia"
"Vaenia. Right, right, um, that asari film."
Dex grunted in frustration. "Preitor, Vaenia is not just that asari film. It's the film. The one fashionistas from all over Citadel Space refer to in their latest collections! They all know about Vaenia."
"Right so you'll be working on a sequel to Vaenia," he nodded. "That's good."
"Well, no, not Vaenia, not a sequel. I'll be working for their turian general programming department." He looked a little embarrassed before he clarified, "But it's a step up, and I'll be associating with the costume designers of Vaenia, of course. Who knows where it could lead!"
Dex's superficiality had always bugged Preitor. He sensed it now, but in this instance, Preitor was glad of it. It meant he'd be moving on from his 'bit of rough' as he'd heard one of Dex's idiotic friends refer to him once. He had to ask Jeanera what that actually meant. She had laughed, and rubbed Preitor's arm, "Oh Sweets, It means, um, your slightly beneath him, class wise." She had screwed her nose in a conciliatory manner when she spoke.
"Good. That's really good, I'm happy for you Dex." He took a swig of champagne. "Ah I guess this means you'll be going off world to Thessia, then?" Preitor couldn't hold back his enthusiasm for that idea.
Dex gave him a meek smile. "At times, yes." He placed a hand on Preitor's knee. "But I'll still be there for you… I mean us."
Preitor's grin widened at the notion of not having to deal with another failed relationship. "Here's to you then, Dex!" and he drained his glass.
When they arrived at the apartment, Dex placed his arm around Preitor's waist. "You know I'll never forget you, don't you?"
Preitor feigned a look of earnestness. Huh so much for always being there for me. "Of course you won't, Dex." He gave him the sincerest smile he could muster before removing himself from the turians embrace.
The small Nos Astra apartment he called home since arriving on Ilium smelled stale. He flicked on the air-purifying unit and tossed his bag in the corner of the main room. His boots followed and he headed barefoot into the kitchen. He needed a snack to outweigh the light-headedness he felt from the alcohol.
The pantry had nothing but packages of dehydrated meat. It would have to suffice. He grabbed the closest packet before opening the fridge. Nothing but two bottles of turian ale. He grabbed one and just as he began closing the door, he hesitated before deciding to grab the remaining bottle.
The bed was still unmade, so he roughly pulled the covers up and sat on top. He gulped greedily at the now open bottle of ale before biting off a huge chunk of dehydrated meat. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that it was Palaven bean roast he was eating, almost. He gulped down the rest of the ale before opening the second bottle.
He lay down, talons still gripping the bottle. His eyes closed and his mind wandered to events on Edessan, his brother and nephew, Tacita's brightly coloured clan tattoos flashing before him. He allowed a wide grin to spread across his face at the memory of his night with Laelius. For a second he felt blissfully happy. It was enough to ease him into sleep. The half-empty bottle fell from his grasp, spilling its remaining contents onto the floor.
He woke to an incessant beeping noise from his communication device. He stood, before realising that the sticky mess under his feet was ale.
"Gah." He kicked the bottle to the side before running to his bag in the next room and rummaging through it to find the comm.
It was still beeping loudly when he pulled it out of the bag.
He fumbled before answering it in an irritated manner. "Yes?" he asked.
"Gavorn, you scaly bastard, where the fuck have you been?" Thul's growled in his low gravelly voice.
"Thul, yeah ah sorry I just got back late last night. I was going to call you first thing."
"Sure you were. Do you want this job? Otherwise it goes to the next turian on the list."
Preitor rubbed his eyes with the base of his palm. "What's the job again?"
"I sent you all the specs. Haven't you read them yet? Hell, you turians get lazier and lazier with each passing day I'm alive. Next thing you'll be asking for some asari to come bring you breakfast in bed." There was a long pause before he continued, a snicker tainting his speech, "Oh, wait, that's not your thing. Perhaps some nubile salarian guy then…"The krogan's raucous laugh rang loudly in Preitor's sensitive ears.
"Yeah, yeah, real funny, Thul. Give me a minute… Let me take a look." His eyes, still fuzzy from sleep, ran over the message Thul had sent earlier.
"Gavorn, A volus named Radoor Lar, wants two krogan for security backup. He's to make delivery of a package somewhere or other I don't really give a damn where. I can't do it myself, but he said he'd be happy with one krogan and a well-armed turian. So, do you want the job alongside Therax or not? This is the last fucking time I'll ask. If you can't be bothered responding, don't expect anything more from me."
Preitor paused for a moment. He'd gotten a small inheritance from his mother, but on a place like Ilium, even with his business in weapons modifications running in the black, he still needed the occasional job to make sure he could live in comfort. This job seemed to be paying exceptionally well for a short security stint. Five to six hours total, payment of five thousand credits per security guard and another five thousand when Lar has delivered the package and is back safely in the hotel. Seemed like easy money. The job was to accompany Therax, Thul's brood brother. The krogan was easy company, a little dimmer than Thul, but they had gotten on well. It was likely the package wasn't legal, but if you could buy your way through customs – which was an easy thing to do on Ilium – officials would look the other way. Preitor had no qualms with that at all.
"Sounds too good to pass. Yeah, I'll take it. What time and where?
"Therax will be at the spaceport bar, 'The Flying Goddess,' just before 2 p.m."
Preitor looked at the time; it was already past 12. "That's just over an hour away… cutting a fine line, Thul." Preitor said incredulously.
"Well, I've been trying to contact you for days now. Truth is I can't find anyone to take the job. So, do you want it or not? It's fucking good money." The krogan's tone had changed from surly to encouraging; it was obvious the money was enticing for brokering the deal, "Plus I've already said I'd do the job."
Thul hadn't wanted to say no to the job and Preitor would have been his last chance for some easy credits. Preitor shook his head. Bloody krogan. "Okay, details then."
"You're to meet Lar at the spaceport and escort him to his hotel, then to a meeting at 2 p.m. The client will tell you when you meet him. You're to go with him and stay as his security until he returns to the hotel. Therax has more details if you need. You'll get credited at the end of the job. Don't say I don't do you any favours, Gavorn." And with that, the krogan cut off communication.
More like I'm doing you a favour, krogan.
He looked at the time again; there was no time to dawdle, not even a quick hello at his favourite hangout, but just enough for a quick shower and to stop and pick up some weapons.
-O-
Preitor's storage unit/come workplace was small but had an efficient layout. One wall had floor to ceiling shelves, stacked with neatly labelled containers of weapon parts. Against the opposite wall was a large metal cupboard filled with tools. Next to that was a large set of drawers, each drawer cushioned with protective padding to hold finished or partially finished weapons. A small lathe and work bench with bright lights stood adjacent to the entrance. Lights flashed on a security panel on the wall indicating the alarm was engaged. It was rigged to contact him directly if someone broke in. He often created unique and valuable pieces – he didn't need to have them stolen by common thieves.
Preitor pulled out a large trunk from under the workbench. This was his personal stash of weapons and armour. He stripped his light tunic top off and placed his pistol holster over his head, the small pistol was now in an easy to reach location. It was one of his favourite small weapons, light, easy to handle and unless they used weapons detectors, most didn't even realise it was there.
He put a light armoured top over his head grabbing the form fitting collar and folding it into place as it butted against his cowl. He picked up a second holster, one that allowed him to carry his primary weapon, a turian designed assault rifle, on his back. The rifle was extremely light even with his signature modification.
Carrying weapons into the spaceport was not an everyday occurrence, but if you have the correct security clearance, it wasn't a problem. He grabbed his security documents and holstered his assault rifle. He then turned off the lights, added his second security protocol to the door and headed to the spaceport.
-O-
The Flying Goddess was a small spaceport bar, a little sleazier than most. Mostly asari dancing girls with asari clients, although a lot of volus on business seemed to like the place. It was also Therax's usual haunt. His "day job" was that of a bouncer, but more often than not, he propped up the bar. Today was no different.
"Therax." Preitor announced as he walked up behind the krogan.
"Gavorn, where you been…? Wait… no I don't want to know. Let's have a drink!"
"Do you really think that's a good idea? It's almost 2 p.m. now."
"Shit, really?"
"Yes, shit, really."
"Okay let's go meet this little turd."
It was a short walk to the arrivals gate. They placed their Spaceport security badges on as they entered.
"Do you know what he looks like then?"
Therax shoved a datapad into Preitor's hands as they neared No 52 arrival gate. The picture showed a very fat volus, fatter than any Preitor had seen before, standing next to an asari.
The large ship they were expecting had only just arrived at the spaceport. Their own arrival had been timely. They watched as numerous people came through, until they could see the distinct waddle of their client volus.
Radoor Lar looked exactly like the picture on the datapad; he was incredibly fat. The asari with him appeared to be different to the one pictured in his file.
"Gee, he is a fat little bastard." Preitor mumbled.
Therax laughed, "Yes he is, isn't he? Why is it that that all these rich volus have asari hanging off them?"
"Money and power, Therax, two things we'll likely never have."
The krogan snorted.
The volus with the asari at his side approached them and the asari spoke. "You're Thul's security guards?"
"I'm Therax this is…"
She cut the krogan off before he could finish "We don't need to know who you are. Lar is not here to make friends and neither am I. Just take us to the hotel." She looked down expectantly at the luggage now dropped at their feet.
Therax grunted and grabbed one of the pieces, motioning Preitor to take the other before directing them towards the waiting transport. The asari cab driver appeared red eyed and distant.
They arrived at the hotel and Preitor watched as the asari checked in for them, the volus remained silent throughout the process. When completed the asari motioned to him and Therax to follow the couple into the elevator. When they reached the sixth floor of the asari spoke to them again. "You're to remain outside the door until Lar is ready."
Therax nodded. And leaned against the wall as the door slid shut. A full twenty minutes passed before either of them spoke. Preitor's thoughts drifted towards making plans for the next week. He was still feeling tired from the trip; a couple more days of settling back into Ilium life should see him right, then onto more business. Before he could begin mentally scheduling his next task, Therax spoke.
"So, Gavorn, I was speaking to Jeanera just before you arrived. She told me your mother died."
Preitor sniffed loudly, "Who the hell hasn't Jeanera told?" Damn that asari.
"Well at least you knew your mother. You should be grateful," Therax, said bitterly before interjecting an apologetic, "I'm sorry for your loss."
Preitor looked at Therax, the krogan's wide grey eyes blinking sincerely. Despite the rough exterior of most of the krogan he had met; a lot of them also had a soft side, if you bothered to look for it and they didn't threaten to kill you if you found it. Therax was no different.
He nodded, "Thanks, Therax."
Another 15 minutes passed in relative silence. A few hotel staff walked up and down the corridor, many avoiding the gaze of the heavily armed krogan and turian waiting patiently at the door.
Finally, the volus came out; he had a small briefcase, only about 30x30cm in size. The asari wasn't with him this time. "We're to go to this location," he wheezed before passing a datapad to Therax. He in turn handed it to Preitor.
They were to go back to the warehouse district, the lower section, known for being rather more secluded than any other part of the district.
The cab that Therax had acquired for them was waiting outside; they piled in, once again travelling in silence. When they arrived at their destination, they followed the waddling volus through the maze of the lower warehouse district. A sudden feeling of unease enveloped Preitor. Motorised atmosphere engineers and fans of various airflow conduits gave off a low hissing noise as they passed. In the ambiance of the white noise, he took the opportunity to voice his concern.
"This doesn't feel right." he whispered to Therax and shook his head.
"What the hell are you talking about, Gavorn?"
"I don't know, but turian military training teaches us to be aware of certain things, this just feels wrong on so many levels."
"Pfft you're imagining things. It's a straight up job – what, do you think this little, fat snobby volus is going to turn around and shoot us?" He gave a not so quiet chuckle.
Lar turned towards them, "I heard everything you said. Please cease talking." He said angrily.
Therax nodded at the volus before turning to give Preitor a shrug. Despite his disquiet, Preitor couldn't prevent a wry smile from coming to his face. They continued farther and after about 10 more minutes of walking, Lar, wheezing heavily, came to a halt.
"Just around the corner," he said.
They turned into a narrower path and Preitor could make out three individuals standing within a slightly more open area, adjacent to a large warehouse door. The path was clear, aside from a few crates. When they got closer, Preitor could see that the three people were in fact humans.
Most surprising, one of the individuals was the woman he had seen on the flight from Edessan.
Coincidence surely…
When they came face to face, he could see that the two humans accompanying her were heavily armed men.
One of them had dark skin, and incredibly dark eyes, but a shimmer of white light lead Preitor to believe that the eyes had some sort of modifications. The other looked like any other generic human he had seen; the only distinguishing feature was a large scar at the base of his chin. Both looked like they had been through hard times. The woman, still in clothing akin to business attire, was not armed. Up close, her face looked as weathered as the men who were her security. However, her eyes were a startling blue and he could see definite traces of cybernetics. What is it with humans and augmenting themselves? Did it give them an edge?
"Radoor Lar, I am glad you finally made it." She spoke in a clipped and precise voice but with a hint of some earth dialect Preitor didn't recognize.
"Earth clan, it is with many apologies that I have not been able to come sooner."
"Where's your little blue, who…, assistant?"
"I'm afraid Lutetia was unable to come along, part of the assurance that I come back 'unscathed'."
The woman made a clucking noise with her tongue. "Now, now, Lar, we're both business operators, what on earth makes you think that I would do anything to harm you? Really. Such silly suspicions."
Preitor sensed the long held tension between the parties.
"Not silly, no." He pointed an accusing finger at her. "What the hell was that on Edessan?
The woman waved her hand, "Merely business, none of which concerns you."
"I'm not a fool, Surina. My turian contacts tell me otherwise. You humans misunderstand the esteem which the volus and turian peoples have for each other."
Surina laughed. "Oh I know exactly what the turians think of the volus. Especially ones like you, Lar. We're here to do business. Let us allow the water to flow under the bridge. But I prefer not in the open." She pointed to the door behind her, "In here."
Preitor looked to Therax again before Lar quickly replied. "Really now, Surina, who might be behind that door? You two – go take a look." He motioned for Therax and Preitor to check. They readied their weapons as one of the humans opened the large warehouse door.
Inside it was just a smaller space than the one they currently occupied, just a few more scattered crates, but no obvious hiding spots or the like. The absence of anything suspicious didn't quell the unease in Preitor's stomach.
"All clear." Therax announced as they came back out into the open again.
"Lar, if it makes you feel any better, let's all put aside our weapons and step into this neutral zone." She gestured for the men with her to lower their weapons and put them on a nearby crate. They obediently compiled.
"See." She looked expectantly at Preitor and Therax.
Lar once again turned to them and nodded towards the crate where the other weapons were.
Preitor did not like this, not one little bit, but he and Therax did as Lar asked.
As they walked through to the smaller space, Preitor felt the comforting bump that was his back up pistol.
"Where is it?" Surina turned to Lar as soon as the door closed behind them.
Lar bought out the small case and held it aloft before throwing it at Surina's feet. "It's yours." He turned to Therax and Preitor, "Let's go."
Surina picked up the case and opened it quickly before shutting it again equally as fast.
Preitor pressed the button to open the door but as he lead the way out he heard Surina's sinister tone.
"Not so fast, Lar. You and I have unfinished business."
In a blue flash of biotics, Preitor watched as Surina directed her hand towards Lar, but by the time she unleashed the blast, Therax had stepped between her and the volus. She threw a forceful push in the krogan's direction, and Preitor heard a loud crack. Therax barely had time to reach for the release for the door and yell out "Run!" Before his bulky frame slammed into the wall, a loud thud reverberating around the room as he landed heavily on the floor. Preitor could see his friend's body now lying limply on the floor. Lar was shrieking for Preitor to get a gun, but Surina's bodyguards had already begun to shoot, he watched as round after round entered the volus.
Everything appeared in slow motion, Preitor could see Lar's suite rip apart, seam by seam, the sound of air escaping sounded like the hiss of a Torfan death adder. Then there was the blood, spraying everywhere under the power of former pressure. It was everywhere. Preitor wiped some of the warm liquid from his mandible tips as he felt the air around him close in. His flight response kicked in and goaded him to make a move.
He turned to run when he sighted Surina's biotics ramping up again. As he did, he pulled out his small pistol from its hidden spot beneath his top and fired it into the door's opening mechanism. The door snapped shut like a sideways guillotine, the locking device initiating quickly. The well-timed hit would be enough to stall them, enough for him to flee, to get to Thul as soon as he could.
The unpopulated area made it easy for him to run without any obstacles, but as he headed into the more populated areas of the district, it became more crowded. He slowed, trying to blend in but realised the bloody goo on his face and tunic was obvious. He looked behind him then bowed his head and crossing his arm across his chest. Consequently, he failed to see the large elcor whose path he now stumbled.
He was knocked clean to the floor, dropping his handgun in the process. The collision surprised him.
"With great mortification: I am deeply sorry for causing your tumble." The large elcor stated.
Preitor leapt up, acutely aware of the gazes of those around. He ignored the sorry elcor and continued walking briskly.
"With great sincer…." The elcor began, but Preitor was well out of sight before he could finish his apology.
His legs once again moved in a constant steady rhythm, his mind filled with the knowledge that this 'simple job' was a set up from the start. He fumbled for his comm device.
"Fuck!" He yelled as he ran, "Fuck, fuck!" Before clicking onto Thul's contact details. "Too fucking simple."
Despite his laboured breathing, the adrenaline pumping through him gave his speech the volume and tone required.
"Thul!" No answer. "Thul! This is Gavorn." He heard a click and then yelled "Therax is down. The volus is dead. Thul can you hear this message? Pick up, spirits damn you! There's been an ambush. I'm going to my lockup and get another weapon. Contact me when you get this ASAP."
"Too fucking simple." He muttered again. He stopped, and bent over, his hands leaning on his legs as he caught his breath. He looked behind him. No one following, yet.
He could see the cab that had brought them to the district just ahead; the driver appeared to be talking with a human. He watched as the conversation ended and the driver got into the cab and left. The human began to walk in Preitor's direction before taking a call on a comm. Then he started to run in his direction.
Preitor felt for his gun, only now registering that he had dropped. "Shit, hell, shit," before he could duck behind cover the human had spotted him. Preitor looked around for an exit. There were two paths. One was in the direction he came, not a wise choice given they were likely not far behind; the second seemed viable, so he headed in that direction.
His feet once again began an easy rhythm, albeit much faster than before. He turned again to look behind only to see the human had gained on him, he tried to speed up but the human remained close, now only a few metres behind. Impossible. As he rounded a corner, he felt the grab at his waist and the subsequent tackle sent him and the human sprawling across the floor. Preitor's shoulder knocked hard against a large stack of crates, the blunt force causing the top crate to tip and fall, missing his human foe by less than an inch.
Preitor felt a punch in the back and quickly bucked as the weight of the human was on him. Preitor bucked again, this time the human let out a small grunt, the force enough that Preitor could now roll over. He was now staring at the human face to face.
More shimmering eyes. The cybernetics more obvious at this close proximity. The man directed a punch to his face, only catching the side of his mandible as Preitor swayed his head to the side to try and avoid it. He caught the man's wrist as he attempted to hit him again, Preitor's talons gripped hard. The man's face was now red; Preitor could see the sweat on his brow, his face, a mask of hate.
"Give up, turian." He hissed as he reached for his gun.
Preitor bought his knee up and lodged it central to the man's stomach. He could hear the breath exhale and took the opportunity of the man's obvious gasping for air to get to his feet. When the human tried to do the same, Preitor kicked him swiftly in the upper thigh, making the man crumble to the ground in agony, his gun slipping easily from his grip and clattering to the floor.
His natural military reflex would be to take the gun and shoot the human dead, but knowing that might just make things worse, and aware that the others were likely close now; he decided it would be best to leave, but not before another swift kick, this time to the man's groin. Preitor snorted as the man yelped in pain.
He looked around picked up the gun and placed it in the back of his pants before heading in the direction of his nearby storage unit, once more setting himself a steady rhythmic pace. This was not what he had been expecting from his first job back on Ilium.
"Welcome home, Preitor." He spat out. Now what's going to fuck up for you?