The Kerridian

Normandy SR-2, Cargo Hold.

His armor was gone, stripped of the very thing that came to symbolize a Black Talon, save for the scars and tattoos that covered his face. His scaly brown skin was bruised and bloodied from a beating that had lasted all last night. With both hands bounded behind his back, there wasn't much he could do against his attackers.

Slowly, the Talon stared up at the large turian standing over him; the blue targeting computer over his left eye gave a faint glow. It was the same one he met on Omega, convincing him in his drunken state to do whatever he wanted. He blacked out quickly thereafter, and he awoke to a beating and several figures screaming questions at him.

Whatever ship he was on had blasted far away from Omega, far away from his ship and his men. All alone.

"You might as well quit right now!" Gorrun Falan hissed through the pain that stemmed from his now broken rib. "Because I'm not telling you shit!"

Garrus' mandibles flared again, and his boot shot up for the same spot as before. The Black Talon didn't even flinch as his chest exploded with pain. A predatory voice rattled his ears, "I'm not going to ask again, Commander." His claws grabbed Falan's cheeks and he forced him to look up at his angry eyes, "Where did you take Shepard?"

A low chuckle rumbled in Falan's throat as he revealed his spiny teeth in a grin, "I don't know."

Miranda watched from the corner with disapproval as Garrus roared in annoyance, his hands shooting down to the other turian's windpipe.

A choked gurgle and spittle escaped from the Commander's mouth, no air getting in or out. This wasn't getting them anywhere. Over the past half hour, Garrus had just been beating on Falan and demanding information. Cerberus handled its 'clientele' a bit differently, so to speak.

A cocktail of drugs and stims would keep the subject lucid and responsive, while every nerve in his or her body flared with whatever feeling the interrogators pleased, whether it was numbness, intense cold or heat, and of course, pain. Miranda had watched those types of sessions before, and their success rates were very high. Surely the Normandy had enough medications onboard to substitute for the drugs needed…

Most of the crew wasn't in the cargo hold, not wishing to participate in what Garrus called 'a venture of information gathering.' C-Sec talk for a beating.

Only Tali and Miranda chose to stay, and the quarian had said nothing up until now, who grabbed Garrus by the shoulder and shouted, "Enough!"

Growling, the former cop released Falan and shoved him to his back. Panicked gasps for air filled the hold.

Tali watched the turian on the ground with worried eyes. They dragged him to the Normandy the night before, amongst the bodies of his own men. The Talons fought together like nothing she's ever seen before. Even in the face of certain defeat, they kept shooting, refusing to surrender or falter.

So much like Shepard…

Her thoughts turned bitter as she reminded herself Gorrun Falan was a Black Talon, just like Farrax. They were their new enemies now, on top of the mercs, the geth, and the Reapers.

"We're not getting anywhere like this." Tali finally added as she waved a hand to the turian on the ground, the rising and falling of his chest slowed as Falan steadied his breathing remarkably quick. His training probably enabled him to sustain interrogation. Sighing, Tali jokingly added, "Maybe you should get him drunk again."

"I wouldn't mind." Falan nodded slowly with the smile on his face again. "Doubt you have anything for a turian on a human ship anyways. Nothin' that helps make the flashbacks go away."

Garrus opened his mouth to speak, but then what Falan had told him earlier rang out in his head like a bell.

"I relived the same kills over and over again. It wouldn't stop…"

"Miranda?"

The woman's skin crawled when she heard the turian call her name, and she responded bitterly, "What?"

"Do we have any of those psychotropic drugs?"

Falan looked up with wide eyes. He went quite, holding his breath.

Miranda noticed and smiled, knowing where he wanted to go with this. "Yes, we do. Plenty of them." Activating her omni-tool, she selected her drug of choice and approached the alien Commander, "I have a nasty chemical here called 'Widow.' It's a little number that basically crawls into your brain and sets your neurons on fire. Intense brain activity follows, usually in the form of hallucinogenic visions or flashbacks. Not fun stuff." She knelt to the left of Falan, sweat dripping from his forehead now.

She whispered to him with the faintest of grins, "So enjoy…"

Jabbing the tool into his forearm, Falan screamed in protest and then began to hyperventilate, his eyes went wider. His thick arms pried against his restraints with no reward, no hope of breaking them.

"Please…oh spirits why? Don't…"

Garrus knelt to his right as Tali watched helplessly.

This wasn't right. This was cruelty, even for a man like him. Nobody deserved this.

"Take us back, Gorrun." Garrus said softly, knowing he would get what he needed soon. "Take us back to your first kill."

Falan fell to his back again and stared up at the ceiling. He spoke slowly and mechanically, knowing the memories that he tried so hard to avoid would find him again. "It was…boot camp. When I first took life…when blood first covered my hands."

Their exercise was meant to teach them the mechanics of old-style knife combat. They started out with wooden peripherals, but during the final week the recruits moved up the real deal. Cold, sharp, unforgiving steel.

His opponent was a fellow recruit by the name of Ortall Yua, a younger but much larger soldier compared to Gorrun, standing at least a foot taller.

Both turians circled the sparring ring, nicks covering their scaly arms, where blood now dripped from. Each time they went in close to strike, they usually countered each other with their own blade, but occasionally an arm was the only option. Either suffer a cut, or accept defeat.

Defeat was unacceptable if you wished to become a Talon.

Gorrun was out of breath and dead tired, with a thin sheet of sweat covering him, mixing with the blood. His blade was gripped tightly in his right hand, drying blood ran along the sharpened edge.

He couldn't afford to do yet another full on assault on Ortall, his sheer size and strength were proving to be the decisive factor in this match. Another tactic was needed, a more defensive one. Flipping the weapon in his hands, Gorrun used a technique the instructors had taught him called the reverse grip, where the blade was pointed downward and away from the thumb, as opposed upwards like most people preferred.

And now he had to wait, wait for Ortall to come and make the next move. But the large opponent refused to at first, simply eyeing down Gorrun, refusing to move.

The lead drill instructor growled at the hesitant display before him, and he shouted with anger searing his deep voice, "I BETTER SEE SOMEONE MOVE, OR I'LL RUN YOU BOTH UNTIL YOU DIE!"

Ortall roared and charged, heeding the man's warning. He cast out his arm, blade leading. Leaning back, Gorrun dodged the sharp tip, preventing it from slicing his chest open.

Recoiling, Gorrun thrusted forward using his legs, pushing his opponent's blade hand away with his free one.

Now…REACT! STRIKE!

He then simply brought the tool in his right hand up and slashed with all his might on instinct, letting a small roar escape his throat.

Blood sprayed. Fresh blood.

Ortall stumbled back, the metallic clinking of his knife sounded off as his hands wrapped around his throat, a spew of bluish-black blood pouring between his fingers as he fell to his knees, gagging.

Dropping his own knife, Gorrun rushed to his opponent's side.

The drill instructor shouted as he rose to his feet, "Shit, we got a bleeder! Get me a medic!"

It was in vain though. Ortall fell to the ground, blood-covered hands dropping to his sides. Motionless, soundless, lifeless.

"My first kill…" Gorrun shuddered helplessly as Shepard's crew watched him. "And it wasn't even in real combat…"

A cold hand wrapped around his collar, yanking him back up. Garrus hissed again, "You want to relive any more? How 'bout you tell us some more…"

"NO!" Gorrun jerked backwards, freeing himself from the grip, "Just stop! I'll do anything!"

"Then tell us where you took him." Miranda ordered, her accent doing nothing to hide the malice behind her words.

"I don't know, I really don't know where exactly."

Preparing to strike, Garrus balled a fist and was ready to beat the piss out of this wreck of a soldier. He was tired of this, and he just wanted his friend back.

"Wait!" Gorrun shouted. "He's been taken to a prison called Last Dawn somewhere in the Traverse, but it's complicated."

"A prison!" Tali yelped in surprise. "Shepard isn't a criminal!"

"Look lady, I don't know why he was taken, but Farrax wanted him."

"Tell me where it is or I swear to Keelah…" The quarian brought up her omni-tool and slowly approached, enraged at hearing that name.

"It's in an uncharted system, and I don't how to get there." Gorrun explained nervously, sweat dripping down his tattooed face. "If we wish to go there, our ship VI takes over and sends us through a random series of mass relays before we go through the final one. We don't know how to get there, even if we wanted to. It was meant to be a meant to be another security measure, so no one from the outside could bust someone out or stumble upon the facility accidentally."

"So," Garrus nodded, pleased for the first time. They had a lead. "If we want to find out where they took Shepard, we need to go to your ship."

Gorrun nodded back as he slowly regained his composure, "The Kerridian. Probably still docked at Omega."

Lifting the Commander to his feet, Garrus guided the man to the corner and ordered EDI to bring up the stasis fields. A blue wall of energy flared between the two turians, keeping the Talon confined to the corner. Gorrun slumped against the wall and shook his head, as if trying to shake away the horrible images in his brain.

Making his way to the elevator, Garrus already found Tali and Miranda inside. On their way back up, Garrus couldn't help but comment, "Miranda…that was good. But…I never heard of a drug called Widow, even in C-Sec."

She smirked. "That's because there's no such thing as Widow." Lifting her omni-tool to bear, she simply showed the turian what she had selected. Medi-gel.

The turian nearly chuckled, "Miranda, that's… brilliant."

"That's cruel." Tali reprimanded. "Did you even see what happened to him when he was having that episode?"

"So says the girl who was ready to hurt him not two minutes ago." The Cerberus Officer curtly retorted, before turning back to Garrus. "So this ship is still back on Omega, then? We're not going back, are we?"

Garrus weighed his options. Their goal was the VI aboard the turian frigate the Kerridian. If they returned to Omega, a team of commandos would be waiting for them, probably with merc assistance. Aria T'Loak wouldn't be pleased with a fight that large on her station anyways. That left him with one other option, and he hoped it was still viable.

"EDI?"

"Yes, Garrus?"

"Get in touch with Kasumi Goto. Let's see if that transponder Shepard gave her still works."

Aria T'Loak's Private Loft, Omega. Relative Station Time: Midnight.

This woman had taste.

Even for a crime lord, Aria apparently was a collector of fine memorabilia. Ranging from asari art to diamonds. Lots and lots of diamonds. Precious jewels lined the walls, in glass cases propped up on tables, probably under her bed. She noted to make a second trip back here.

Kasumi lithely fell from the ceiling, her feet silently hitting the floor. Cameras were nonfunctional, as were any other security measures. She ran her gloved fingers along one of the glass cases as she made her way for the far stairwell. A bright purple jewel caught her eye, and paused with a mischievous grin. A person as rich as Aria wouldn't miss just one, would she? The master thief doubted it.

Turning away, she sprinted up the stairway, yet again her feet making no noise. Her dark eyes found exactly what she wanted. A small terminal, most likely loaded with the information she needed.

Like it or not, information was worth more than the all the diamonds in the galaxy now, which depressed the thief slightly.

Technology will be our downfall one day. She joked in her head. Rue the day, I say! Rue it!

She eased herself into the chair in front of the terminal and activated it. Aria was roaring outside the room, arguing with her batarian lieutenant. That would give Kasumi at least ten more minutes. Plenty of time.

A beep in her ear. The tone that followed was classical music, Richard Wagner, Ride of the Valkyries. It reminded her so much of Shep, sweeping crescendos reminded her of his demeanor, subtle at first, but slowly gaining momentum over time. It played the day she had to leave, just a few days after their suicide mission.

A full orchestra played over the speakers, with heavy horns adding a thunderous sweep into the increasingly chaotic wave of music. It made her heart race every time.

"Sure you're not going to stay?"

Kasumi smiled to herself as she packed up the last of her things into two, small duffel bags. Keiji's graybox was inside one of them.

She sighed sadly as she stuffed a few books inside one bag, "Can't. My line of work is always open, and Cerberus just froze my payment for this. Girl's gotta make money, right?"

Shepard huffed with feigned offense, "Please, you just love the thought of stealing."

Closing her bag, she looked over the observation deck, her de facto room during her stay on the Commander's ship, now empty. Just like she found it. Turning around, she found Shepard with a tiny grin on his face, a hand out in front of him. She raised a brow and put her hands on her hips, "A handshake? Please. Come here you big bastard."

She yanked him in and wrapped her arms around the tall Spectre. "Give me a call once in a while, okay Shep?"

"I can do better than that." Shepard smiled as he released Kasumi and held a small device in the palm of his hands. "Long distance transponder," he explained as his grin faded, "just in case. You can call us, and we can call you."

The thief let the Commander place the tiny object into her cupped hands and stared at it long and hard. She gave nervous chuckle, "Shep, this is Cerberus stuff here. Like…really high-tech gear. Signals that this thing projects can-"

"Span a lot of distance, I know." Shepard finished with a nod. "I've more or less sent my resignation letter to Cerberus anyways. Might as well give you this as a parting gift."

Kasumi smiled as she removed the hood from her head and placed it in her ear. "Thank you, Commander."

"Don't be a stranger, Kasumi." Shepard nodded as Kasumi walked for the door, both bags over her back.

"And Kasumi?"

She froze.

"Can I have my credit chit back, please?"

Kasumi pressed a finger against her ear while her other hand worked on the terminal, still booting up.

"Kasumi Goto, master thief extraordinaire, at your service." She began casually, speaking out loud, when Aria was only a few rooms away.

It was Garrus who whispered in her ear as data streamed on the terminal in front of her. The files she wanted were blocked, of course.

"Kasumi?" The turian mused, his voice like gravel. "Are you…busy?"

"Me? Never busy when it comes to friends." The thief stated with a grin. Beeping, the computer demanded a voiceprint in order for someone to gain access. Kasumi sighed and continued, "Garrus, can you give me one second?"

"By all means."

She muted the transponder and waved her omni-tool over her mouth, and when she spoke into it, Aria's voice came out. "Access files sixty-three through sixty-nine."

The computer hummed as it searched for and compiled what she wanted. It then hummed quietly, "Voiceprint required, Miss T'Loak. Please enter your password."

"'I don't give a vorcha's ass.'"

"Access granted. Enjoy."

Files swarmed the screen, too many for her to count. Moving the tool away from her lips, Kasumi copied every single byte of data onto her tool and wiped the local copy. That part of the job wasn't required, but Aria was a criminal nonetheless. Might as well screw with her pretty little blue head.

"So…" Kasumi started as she rose from the seat, leaving the computer terminal running. "How ya doin' Garrus?"

His voice was still gravel as he replied, "Kasumi, this really isn't a personal call."

Joker was right, there was a stick still stuck up his scaly ass.

"I figured. How come Shep isn't calling?"

A slight hesitation by the turian, meaning he was hiding something. "He's…preoccupied right now. That's not important. I need to call in a favor, though."

Tapping on the screen of the tool around her arm, forcing it to go dark, Kasumi waltzed back down the stairs and headed for the glass wall that overlooked all of Omega rather large bed. Tapping the glass with her knuckles, the thief reached for her belt and grabbed a fist-sized device, aiming for the glass portal in front of her.

"What kind of favor?"

"I'm calling one of the greatest thieves in the galaxy…" He started out with a low chuckle.

Correction: The greatest thief in the galaxy.

He continued, "…so what do you think?"

"No need to be a smartass." Kasumi hissed back with a grin as she pulled the trigger on the small device. Glass shattered into literally millions of tiny pieces, the roar of noise caused Aria's screams to cease.

"We need you to get a ship's navigational VI."

"Not what people usually ask me to get. Most want the whole ship. Sounds simple enough though," she said. "What's the catch?"

"The ship's on Omega, docking yard eight, port one." Garrus continued, ignoring her question. "I'll send the specifics to your omni-tool. Can you get there soon?"

"Give me two hours. Kasumi out." Clicking off the transponder, the lithe bandit turned to find Aria and three guards entering the room, weapons drawn. Feet at the edge, facing a thousand or more story drop, Kasumi turned to the crime lord.

"You've got nowhere to go…" Aria hissed, her purple skin flaring blue with prepared biotics, "…so how 'bout you give back whatever you stole, and I won't have you flayed alive."

Kasumi winked and fell backwards, into the cold, black air of Omega. A second later, she landed in a seat of an open-top shuttle, waiting for her a few feet below. Pistol rounds rained down as the shuttle turned and rocketed far away from Aria's loft, the crime lord's shriek of anger filled the night.

Kasumi smiled.

Utopia System, SSV Chicago.

"You're lucky Command doesn't slap your ass with a court-martial!"

Corporal Jane Hartford stood at attention, her eyes locked straight ahead as the Lieutenant screamed in her face, his white skin red with anger. No emotion from the sniper.

"You're lucky I don't slap your ass with a court-martial!" Randy threatened again. "You nearly blew off my head…"

Jane spoke up for the first time ever since she entered the Lieutenant's quarters, "Sir, I took the wind, elevation, humidity, distance, and about a dozen other factors into account before I pulled the trigger. Your life was never in any danger."

"Why, then?" Randy demanded, still red in the face, "Why did you shoot him, I wanted Ulyat alive! The Alliance wanted him alive!"

Jane's eyes darted left and right, searching for answers. Finding none, her deep brown orbs found Randy's green ones. "I…don't know, sir. I just got…angry."

Ashley rested against the small couch she had found with the crew quarters. At least that was one benefit when it came to serving on cruisers, they had furniture. The most the Normandy had was a couple of chairs in the Comm Center, and that was about it. But here, on the Chicago, you got couches.

Sighing, the Chief pulled up the holo-pad she had and began flipping through her mail. A few old messages from her sister, Sarah, a couple of spam ads she would delete eventually, and not much else. She didn't notice Tank standing over her.

The soldier huffed, "Howdy, ma'am."

Ash smiled at the large man, who was always polite to her, for whatever reason. "Hey Tank. How are you holding up?"

He took a seat next to Ash and sighed, "I dunno, ma'am. Never thought I'd go to Eden Prime, and see it like that." Tank rubbed his forehead, "I mean, it's always in the vids nowadays as something perfect, even after the geth attack. But after seeing destroyed buildings and dead…dead…"

"Civilians?" Ash asked softly as she put her holo-pad down. "I know what it's like to see that stuff. It ain't fun."

"Fun isn't how I'd describe it, ma'am. More like horrible." Tank looked back up at the woman, "I mean, how can someone shoot a defenseless noncombatant?"

Images of Eden Prime flashed across Ash's eyes.

Geth troopers blasting away at farmers, trying to run for the marines up the hill, where most of the 212 was taking up positions. Before the then Gunnery Chief could get her bearings, the civilians were cut down, red blood caked the soft grass beneath their feet.

"Ma'am?"

One robot ignored the screaming rifles from marines as it dragged a still-living colonist away, blood smearing the ground as he thrashed and begged for help. Ash held onto the trigger until it overheated, but the geth kept walking, as if the bullets were pinpricks.

Joshua took a round to the chest, right through his armor. He was dead before he hit the ground. Nirali cursed and sprinted down the hill, despite Ash trying to grab her. The young private ignored all calls for her name as her rifle spit death upon a geth soldier, white 'blood' leaking from the holes in its breastplate. Nirali's left knee explodes in a red haze, and she dropped to the ground, two more geth appeared to drag her away.

Where were they taking them?

"Ma'am?"

The geth retreated two minutes later, giving up ground slowly before they disappeared all together. Ash led a small squad, following the trail of red blood that trailed over Eden Prime's surface.

Her question was quickly answered. A dozen or more people were held up feet in the air, impaled by silver spikes, right through their chests. The civilian from earlier was there.

So was Nirali, eyes rolled back, mouth permanently open in an expression of fear.

A marine next to Ashley stumbled to the ground and vomited, others sobbed, seeing colonists and soldiers alike they've gotten to know, dead right in front of them. Ash couldn't even move.

Dragon's Teeth.

Tank's large hand landed and Ashley's shoulder, and he shook her gently. "Ma'am?"

Ash's vision cleared, but she shook her head to make sure. "Sorry, I'm sorry… Bad memories."

"It was more than that, ma'am."

"I'm fine, Tank." She shrugged as her mind cleared.

"You didn't move for a whole minute. I counted."

Goddamned people, always worrying about me.

"I'm fine, I swear."

Unconvinced, Tank leaned back and huffed, arms crossed over his chest.

Ashley took a deep breath and grabbed her holo-pad. She needed some Whitman right now, maybe Tennyson. Hell, might as well go for the Bible, of course, the paper copy she had was under her bed.

Knowing he wouldn't get anywhere, Tank relented and tried changing the subject. Death and war weren't really the best conversations starters anyways. "So, you knew Shepard, huh?"

Looking up from the screen again, Ash nodded, "Yeah. Probably the best helmsman I've ever served under."

"What was he like?"

Oh boy… How could you describe a man like Shepard? A hero? A symbol? Something more? He was the knight coming to slay the dragon, he was the noble politician in a sea of corruption, he was the single star of light in an endless and dark sea of destruction that plagued the galaxy. Mere words spoken by him made you want to fight, even die for him. Then he'd probably go into the very pits of Hades to bring you back out.

He was a man that would make you feel good enough.

Ash grinned, "You mean what is he like?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Tank shrugged, "I just gotten used to him being dead, and now he's back all of the sudden, but what is he like?"

Her answer was simple. "He was a god among men. Not like he'd ever admit it though."

The next question had been on Tank's tongue ever since he found out Chief Williams was in his squad, "What happened after he 'died?'"

Pain surged through Ash's chest, unpleasant memories threatened to intrude, but she held it in check as she remembered one particular verse. She cleared her throat and spoke aloud.

"O powerful western fallen star!

O shades of night-O moody, tearful night!

O great star disappeared-O the black murk that hides the star!

O cruel hands that hold me powerless-O helpless soul of me!

O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul."

Tank stared at her with wide eyes, the corners of his lips turned into a grin. "That was…incredible."

Out of all the people in the universe, he didn't expect the woman in front of him to know poetry.

Warm feelings filled Ash's chest as she fondly recalled the poet. "Walt Whitman. He wrote it after Abraham Lincoln died."

"Was Shepard your Abraham Lincoln? Minus the awesome beard?"

Ash chuckled, but her eyes found the screen of her holo-pad, the background a picture of her former CO. Her smiled died.

"Yeah…Skipper was my Abraham Lincoln."

Peace.