Chapter Three.

After I've eaten the sandwich – something gourmet that tastes far too good for my lowly taste buds – I take a shower and put my clothes through the automatic cleaner. They'll be washed, dried and pressed by the time I even step out.

I was too preoccupied in my own thoughts that morning to think about shaving or the fact I hadn't washed myself or my clothes in a day or two. When I step out of the shower and up to the basin I feel refreshed and my face looks good. I have a bit of an obsession with films of the late 20th Century and early 21st Century, and when I eventually got around to watching the Indiana Jones movies I was surprised at how much Harrison Ford looks like me – or rather, how much I look like him.

After a good shave I dress in my clothes and finally follow Marlene to the bar. When I arrive I see that she is sat on a barstool with a drink in her hand – something in a martini glass that looks exotic and delectable. There's a drunken Batarian sat next to her, he's talking and she's listening. I can tell from the subtleties in her expression that she's uncomfortable and disgusted but for the most part she retains a remarkable amount of poise and grace.

Batarian's are not my favourite species in the Galaxy. I've had a few run-ins with them in the past, none of which have been particularly enjoyable. They're brutish, aggressive, narrow-minded fools – but damn can they throw a good punch.

I approach them and Marlene looks to me, she seems relieved to see me. I feel flattered even though I know it's purely because the Batarian has been dogging her and nothing else.

'Sorry to interrupt' I say, making the Batarian stop telling his inane story and look up at me with his four black eyes, 'May I sit next to you, Miss Dillinger?'

'I think we've passed the stages of politeness now, don't you?' she smiles, 'you can call me Marlene, if I can call you Mack?'

'Deal' I say, taking a seat. The Batarian's expression has softened from contempt to something like confusion now that he knows I'm already acquainted with Marlene. I think we were both hoping he'd leave us alone but instead he leans in further to make sure I can hear him.

'Are you two together?' he asks gruffly, breathing hard enough that I can not only smell the cheap beer he's been drinking but also what he ate for breakfast

'We're companions' I say

'Of the romantic kind?' the Batarian asks

'That's none of your business' Marlene says coyly, taking a sip from her drink. The Asari bartender approaches and looks at me with polite expectancy,

'A whiskey on the rocks and another for the lady, please' I say

'Not going to get one for me?' says the Batarian

'I think you've had enough' I say. He rises from his barstool so suddenly that if it wasn't bolted to the floor it would have fallen over. Typical Batarian, sticking their nose in where it isn't wanted and then getting aggressive over nothing. This is why I don't like them.

'What are you implying, grotha?' he hisses. I know that Batarian's use the word "grotha" as a derogatory word for humans but I have no idea what it means. Marlene, however, obviously does. Her brow furrows and her mouth tightens. She looks at him with nothing short of malice.

'How dare you!' she says harshly, 'You sit here all night trying to chat up an innocent human woman and then have the nerve to use that word! You disgust me, Batarian, get out of my sight'

I'm shocked and impressed by this side of her. She seemed reserved – maybe even timid – but one thing I've learned from my years of experience is that everyone has a dark side. It seems that, when pushed, Marlene Dillinger can become quite the firecracker.

'Whore' he growls, 'you'll regret this'

He reaches inside his leather jacket and I see the butt of a handgun. Before he's even touched it I have his arm, twist it, and kick the back of his knee. He buckles and falls to a kneeling position. I whirl around and grab his handgun, pulling it out and placing it out of his reach on the bar. He manages to land a punch on my jaw and I stagger backwards. The other patrons scream.

Suddenly I feel a kick in my stomach that makes me double over in pain. I start to reach for my own handgun but as I pull it out I feel the Batarian's hand slap it away. By now I've regained my composure and clarity just in time to give him a powerful headbutt. Now it's his turn to stagger back, but he raises his left arm and I see he's managed to get his handgun back off of the bar and it's pointed right at me.

Without even thinking I call on something inside of me that I haven't accessed in years. My body emits a glowing blue aura as I activate my biotics. I use a powerful dark matter shunt to throw the Batarian violently into the observation window on the far side of the room. He bashes into it with tremendous force and his handgun falls to the floor, followed very shortly by himself. He is unconscious.

I feel a twinge of pain in my chest like a heart palpitation and I can't tell if it's from the biotics, the fight, the excitement, the cancer – or all of the above. That's when the Asari guards finally find their way into the room.

The bartender, at some point during the fight, managed to grab hold of a shotgun but clearly didn't have the time to use it. Marlene is stood by the bar looking shocked and worried. The rest of the patrons have all evacuated the room. I don't blame them.

'What the hell is going on in here?' asks one of the guards – probably chief of security

'It's what we on Earth call a bar brawl' I tell her, 'just be glad there wasn't a whole group of Batarian's or you'd have a lot more cleaning up to do'

Two hours later, after some routine questioning and one or two glasses of whiskey the Asari finally let me out of the security office and take me and Marlene to the restaurant where we're to be treated to a complimentary meal. I even get commended for taking the Batarian down. I guess the Asari aren't their biggest fans either.

I take a seat at the table we're shown to by the maître'D and Marlene sits opposite me. According to the security officers who interviewed me she was quite shaken up after the fight. That makes me feel bad, especially now that she's smiling innocently at me from across the table.

'If you just hold on for a moment, I'll get you some menus' the maître'D says, 'would you like to hear our specials?'

'No thank you' Marlene says, 'but could we have a wine list?'

'Of course' the maître'D says with a bow before she excuses herself and leaves

'I'm so sorry Mack' Marlene gushes as soon as we're left alone, 'there wouldn't have been any trouble if I hadn't –'

'Don't say another word about it' I tell her earnestly, 'what happened wasn't your fault at all. He was clearly some kind of lowlife scum just waiting for a chance to start a fight. If anything, you impressed me back there'

'Impressed you?' she asks incredulously

'Sure' I nod, 'I thought you seemed quite reserved when we first met. In fact, I found it difficult to get my head around you organising military and espionage operations. I've seen the people who do it – they're forceful, confident, and hasty'

'I can be all of those things' she says, 'but I was born into aristocracy on Bekenstein, taught proper etiquette and raised to become a debutante'

'Sounds cushy' I say

'It was all a lie' she tells me, and I can see that she's opening up to me, 'at the age of sixteen I learned of my parent's financial difficulties. My training as a debutante was really so they could sell me off as a concubine to the highest bidder. I was going to be the highest-class prostitute in the galaxy'

'I'm sorry to hear that, Marlene' I say sincerely, 'it can't have been an easy time for you'

'I never did what they wanted' she tells me with a coy smile, 'I think they were more than a little bit surprised when I enlisted with the Alliance and left Bekenstein for good'

'I'm glad to hear it' I return her smile, 'and that explains why you've got that darker side'

'I'm sorry' she says suddenly, 'I went off on a tangent, didn't I? Well what I was trying to say is that the poised and reserved side of me that you see is just from all those years of training. I'm trying to get out of the habit'

The Maître'D returns with our menus and the wine list. Both of us order quite quickly and I'm impressed by Marlene's decisiveness. From my experience women like to dither about when it comes to making decisions – for the most part, anyway. Once the Maître'D has gone again Marlene looks at me. She's relaxing in my company and that's a good thing. If we're going to be trying to find Valax together we'll need to be at ease with each other.

'Those were some impressive biotics' she says, 'I haven't seen a lot of people who can launch someone across a room quite like that. Where did you get your abilities?'

'That's a long story' I tell her, 'but the condensed version is that I was born out of a science experiment. I never really had parents, at least not in the traditional sense. I see these powers as a curse, not a gift – I was never meant to have them'

'Do you use them often?' she asks as our wine arrives

'I'm not a hypocrite' I say, 'Or at least I try not to be. Until today I haven't used my biotics in years'

'It seems neither of us had ideal childhoods' she says, 'did you ever consider joining the Alliance like me?'

'No, I was never one for honor' I smile, 'I joined a different kind of military'

'Who?' she asks, confused

'An elitist group called Cerberus' I say, 'you probably haven't heard of them. Or if you have, you've probably heard that they're terrorists'

'I have heard of them' she says, 'and that is what I've heard. Is it true?'

'Not entirely' I take a sip of my wine and pull out one of the cigarettes I bought from room service earlier, 'I believe that they have humanities best interests at heart. I just didn't agree with their methods – so I moved back to Earth and joined the Chicago Police Department'

'And the rest is history, huh?' she smiles, and as I light my cigarette she gestures to the packet I'm putting away, 'are you not going to offer me one?'

'Oh, sorry, of course' I say, getting the pack out and handing her one, 'not a lot of people smoke these days even though the health risks are non-existent. I've got out of the habit of asking people if they want one'

The rest of the evening goes pretty smoothly. Our conversation is pleasant but not exactly noteworthy. We talk about our interests and a little about our careers and what got us to where we are. Before we're even aware of the time we realise that the restaurant has emptied and we're the only one's left.

I've had a little too much to drink and decide it's time to turn in. I know that Marlene has had her fair share of the wine but I still don't want her to see me like this. We walk back to our room and I try to hold myself together as best as I can. Walking in a straight line can really be a challenge when you're inebriated.

By the time we get back to the room my head starts to pound and I'm desperate to get to the mini-bar. No, don't worry I'm not going to try getting rid of a developing hangover with more booze. In this day in age there's always a Salarian sobering serum in the mini-bar. I'm dying for that serum.

Marlene goes for a shower as soon as we get through the door and I take the serum. It'll cost me an extra few credits but the result is worth it. A few minutes later I'm not only sober but also fast asleep.