Chapter 7: Accumulation

"A million light-years from where humanity began, and we walk into a bar full of men drooling over half-naked women shaking their asses on a stage. I can't decide if that's funny or sad."
"What? You don't think they're here because of the food?"
The club was packed, even at this hour. At least the armour and multitude of weaponry they carried granted them enough space to move around in. Without his helmet on, however, the pounding of the music was introducing a claustrophobia all of its own. Shepard could barely hear Alenko and Williams yelling to each other over the cacophony. He fielded a passing waitress. "Harkin?" he asked. She pointed over at a table in the corner and scurried off.
"Hey, Lieutenant," Shepard heard Williams shout as he pushed his way through the throng, "put your tongue back in your mouth before you trip on it."
"I wasn't-"

Their argument was forestalled by a somewhat larger one that they almost walked right into. Two krogan were squaring up to each other. At least, one was squaring up. The other, larger, one wearing deep red armour seemed to be amused by the attempt.
"I said back off Wrex," the smaller krogan threatened, "Fist told us to take you down if you showed up."
The armoured krogan chuckled in a deep, gravelly voice. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "I'm standing right here."
A couple of the bar's other bouncers started to drift over. Shepard glanced at the other marines and took a cautious step back. The krogan bouncer didn't respond.
"This is Fist's only chance," Wrex said menacingly. "If he's smart, he'll take it."
"He's not coming out, Wrex." The bouncer folded his arms and drew himself up. "End of story."
Wrex took a moment to turn his reptilian head from side to side, sizing up the bouncers on either side of him. He seemed to think for a moment, then took a step forward. All three of the bouncers tensed.
"This story is just beginning."

Wrex turned and would have walked out most impressively, if he hadn't almost barrelled headlong into Shepard. Their gazes met. The krogan's eye level was lower than Shepard's, but the hump on his back and general stature made him much more imposing. Shepard had met plenty of krogan – generally just before they died of gunshot and knife wounds, but still. He preferred them at the far end of his sniper scope, rather than in his face. This krogan in particular was putting him on edge. There were three ragged grooves cut into his head plate, which continued as a scar down the side of his face. It highlighted the glare Wrex was treating him to. That glare heavily suggested apathy towards violence – perfectly routine for a krogan – but Shepard couldn't shake a sense of being carefully weighed up. An unsaid agreement passed between them. Shepard stepped aside and the krogan stomped out of the bar. The bouncers let out the breath they had been holding and wandered away.
"What was that all about?" Alenko asked as they continued their passage through the crowd.
"Who knows?" Williams replied, "let's just try not to get caught in the middle."

"You Harkin?" Shepard asked.
The bald man sitting at the table glared blearily up at them. The table was littered with glasses and it wasn't hard to see where most of the contents had gone. As Williams joined Shepard at the table, Harkin's gaze slid over to her, then flicked up and down lecherously.
"Well, hello princess," Harkin slurred. "Why don't you siddown on ol' Harkin's lap an-"
The back of Shepard's gauntleted hand slapped him across the face, prompting a groan of surprise and mild pain.
"Show some respect," Shepard advised him as he sat down, leaning across the table menacingly. "Before I show you your spleen."
Harkin rubbed his jaw and sneered at him. "Goddamn Alliance military," he grumbled. "I coulda been a marine, ya know. Instead I joined Citadel Security, biggest mistake of my life."
"My heart bleeds for you." Shepard sneered right back. "I need to find a C-Sec officer, Garrus Vakarian. Do you know where he is?"
"Why should I- Wait, Garrus?" Harkin wondered. "Now why would you..." He laughed. "You must be one of Anderson's crew, right? Stupid fuck's still trying to bring Saren down, is he?"
Harkin lounged back in his chair and drawled, "yeah, I know where Garrus is. Jus' tell me one little thing, first: the Captain ever let you in on his dirty little secret?"
"Just tell me where Vakarian is before I actually have to break your jaw."
"But it's all related, see?" Harkin leaned forward, prompting Shepard to lean back to avoid passing out as the stench of intoxication rolled over him. Harkin lowered his voice and said conspiratorially, "see, Anderson used to be a Spectre, way back. Screwed up his first mission so bad he got kicked out! He ever tell you that? 'Course, he blames Saren-"
"Vakarian," Shepard demanded, careful not to show his surprise show on his face. "Where?"
Harkin shrugged at him, sitting back in his chair. "Fine. Try Doctor Michel's clinic – level twenty-four, past the markets."
Shepard got up and left without another word.

They were back out in the maze of passageways before Williams hissed at the other two. "Why didn't the Captain tell us he used to be a Spectre?"
"Maybe it's not true," Alenko suggested. "Harkin's an ass; I bet he's just messing with our heads."
"Maybe," Williams said, sounding unsure. "Commander? You know him best."
Shepard thought for a moment. The Captain had had a long and interesting history of service before Shepard had met the man. It was – just – possible. But getting Shepard a shot at the Spectres now had clearly been a teeth-pulling job. More than a few years ago it would have been untenable. But...
"Maybe."

Turian facial expressions are hard to read by anyone outside the species. This meant, as he weaved his way through the crowd, that few could tell that Garrus Vakarian was currently fuming.

The reasons for his present mood were twofold: firstly, he'd spent the last hour or so wrestling with bureaucracy to get access to 'intelligence not relevant to his investigation'. Secondly, that intel had led him straight back to a clinic he'd visited just yesterday. The owner, one Doctor Michel, had assured him she'd seen nothing to do with the disturbance the day before. He felt his fist clench involuntarily. This time, he wouldn't be leaving without the information he needed.

Working for C-Sec had its perks, but autonomy and efficiency were not among them. When you were running a law enforcement organisation with officers from many species, each with their own individual and culturally-influenced ideas of what the 'law' should be, oversight and rigid enforcement of regulations was the order of the day. Fair enough – up until you needed to get something done fast. Which you always did; criminals rarely had the decency to wait on procedure.

Garrus stopped short as he neared the clinic. Three humans were approaching the entrance, but none of them looked like they needed medical attention. On an impulse, he took two steps to his left and concealed himself behind a holographic advertising board. He reached a hand up to the visor that wrapped around the left side of his head and gently manipulated the controls. The vision in his left eye suddenly jumped, magnified four times. The men came into focus and, interestingly, so did the weapons they were carrying. There was nothing illegal about carrying a gun on the Citadel – especially down in the wards – but these men didn't exactly look military. They reached the door to the clinic, looked around warily, then entered. As they did so, one of them drew his pistol.

So... three armed men walk into a clinic.

The punchline to that couldn't be at all funny.

Garrus flicked his visor back to normal magnification and drew his sidearm. He darted across to the clinic entrance and slipped soundlessly through the doors as they closed. The clinic was open-plan, split into two by a low divider that ran across the middle. On the far side, a human woman in a medical uniform had stopped in the act of tidying away various implements to stare at the new arrivals in shock. The trio of thugs didn't bother with the tedium of walking around the divider, instead vaulting over it and approaching the Doctor. Hoping that they would be too focussed on their 'we're tough guys and you'd better know it' routine to notice the sound of footsteps behind them, Garrus darted over to the pillar that buttressed the end of the divider. Before the thugs could speak a word, he heard Doctor Michel cry, "I didn't tell anyone, I swear!"

He risked a peek around the corner of the pillar. They had the Doctor pinned up against the wall, a gun shoved in her face.
"That was smart, Doc," the gunman snarled. "Now if Vakarian comes sniffing around again, you'd better stay smart. Be a shame if something happened to that pretty face..."
Garrus felt his mandibles flicker in rage. From here, he only had a clean shot on one of the thugs, but not the one threatening the Doctor. If he started shooting, most likely she would end up dead.
He tapped at his omni-tool. Tech grenade? Disable their weapons? Sure – it'd disable the one thug's gun, but not the two who still had their weapons holstered and deactivated.
Wait for them to leave? No. Taking down scum like this was what he'd joined C-Sec for in the first place. Not an option.

He surpressed a frustrated growl. He needed back-up, a bigger gun, a time machine, a varren rigged with explosives and a funny hat, anything!

The door slid open.
"Alliance military! Drop the weapon!"
That... would do nicely.

He swung out from behind the pillar. The lead thug had spun around, thrusting the Doctor between himself and the doorway – and putting himself into Garrus' line of fire. In a split second, his pistol was levelled at the man's temple. Before the man could raise his weapon to the Doctor's back, Garrus squeezed the trigger and the man's head snapped sideways on his neck as he went down. There was a hail of gunfire from the doorway and the other two thugs were thrown back, lifelessly dropping to the ground.

Now that's how it should be done.

"Clear!" a familiar human voice called out.
"No shit, sir," a second, female, voice commented as Garrus holstered his gun and walked over to where the Doctor was standing frozen amidst the carnage.
"Doctor Michel, are you hurt?" he asked her.
"No," she managed to say. "No, I'm okay. Thank you, all of you."
Garrus turned to the doorway. Commander Shepard, now clad in Alliance-issue combat armour, although still wearing that expression that suggested someone had been tugging at his mandibles, lightly climbed over the divider to join them, holstering his own pistol.
"Perfect timing, Shepard," he said gleefully. "Gave me a clear shot at that bastard."
"Any time," the human replied. "Nicely done, by the way," he added.
"Sometimes you get lucky," Garrus purred. "I'm guessing you came because the Council threw your accusation out?" It was hardly a 'guess', more... intuitive precognition.
"That they did," Shepard confirmed. "We figured you might have something, so I decided to drop in."
"I do, or I will, at least." Garrus turned back to the Doctor. "Doctor, I hope you appreciate how serious this is now. Maybe it's time you told me everything." The still-trembling woman nodded and began to speak.

"A couple of days ago, a quarian came by my clinic. She'd been shot, but she wouldn't say who by. I could tell she was scared, probably on the run. While I was patching her up, she asked me where she could sell some information she'd gotten hold of. I told her to go to Fist, everyone knows he's an agent for the Shadow Broker-"
"Not any more," Garrus broke in. "Now he works for Saren."
"That so?" Shepard asked.
"Yeah," Garrus said. He'd been surprised to learn about that. Turning on the galaxy's most powerful information broker was beyond stupid and into the murky realms of insanity. Whatever offer Saren had made must have been... impressive, to say the least. "I hear the Shadow Broker's not very happy about it."
"The Shadow Broker might just be the least of his problems now," Shepard said. "I'm guessing these were Fist's men, then?" he asked the Doctor. "Sent to keep you quiet?"
"Y- yes," the doctor answered.
"That quarian must have something Saren wants kept secret," Garrus said. Shepard nodded in agreement. "Did she say anything about this information she had? Anything at all?" he demanded.
"No. She was- wait a minute... Geth! She said it had something to do with the geth."
"Well, that settles it," Shepard said decisively. He turned to the other marines accompanying him. "Let's move, we need a word with Fist."
"I'm coming with you, Shepard," Garrus declared. "This is my show as much as it is yours."
Shepard hesitated. "Not to sound ungrateful," he said cautiously, "but shouldn't someone be taking care of all these bodies we just made?"
"They'll keep." Garrus waved a hand impatiently. "It'll just mean paperwork – getting to that evidence is more important."
Shepard gave him a thoughtful look, then shrugged. "Alright," he said. "Let's move – we don't know how much time we have."

The four of them left the clinic, leaving the doctor alone with a trio of corpses.
"Is there anything we should know about Fist?" Shepard asked Garrus after a quick round of introductions.
Garrus grimaced. "Not much to know," he said shortly. "He's just a small-time criminal – C-Sec always turned a blind eye to him. I think he's been paying someone off."
A recent report he had read crossed his mind. "There is something," he said thoughtfully. "A krogan bounty hunter arrived on the Citadel recently and he's known to take jobs from the Shadow Broker. It's good odds that he's here for Fist-"
"Red armour, scarred face, name of Wrex?" Shepard asked, prompting a surprised look from Garrus.
"How did-"
"We met him already," the female human – Williams – said. "He came this close to kissing the Commander."
"We were at Chora's Den to meet a contact," Shepard said, with an aggrieved glare at his subordinate. "Wrex was having a little fun with the bouncers."
"If he was making threats-" Garrus said.
"Yeah, you could say that," Alenko chimed in.
"- then C-Sex will have picked him up for a little 'chat'. We could drop by the Academy and see if he's willing to team up."
"Commander, do we really want a mercenary with us?" Alenko asked.
"And a krogan, at that," Williams added.
Shepard stopped in his tracks and scratched at a scar on his face for a moment. Then he shrugged. "We might as well. Better that he's on our side than getting in our way." He continued walking, adding, "besides, I've got a feeling we'll be making a few more bodies before this day's over."
Garrus smirked and nodded. Barely ten minutes had passed and his mood had jumped from frustration to exhilaration without so much as a backward glance. Amazing, what a little gunplay could do for you.

Urdnot Wrex was busy languishing in the custody of a pair of turian C-Sec officers. They'd intercepted him as he left the lower levels of the wards and very politely asked if he would consent to accompanying them to the Academy. He'd idly toyed with the idea of tossing the pair of them into the aircar lane, but had ultimately decided to go along with them, for now. Time was, he'd knock off a pair of interfering cops without a second thought. Maybe age was mellowing him.

Not that they'd taken him inside the Academy; they couldn't have a krogan walking through the halls, stomping over the squeaky-clean floors, oh no. They were waiting outside for the human C-Sec officer that came striding out, looking utterly ridiculous in the uniform. Ah yes, humans. The newcomers. Take a turian, make it squishier, give it a furry head and you were almost there. The officer gave him a mean-eyed look that, from Wrex's perspective, looked comical.
"Witnesses saw you making threats in Fist's bar." The officer started in the finest tradition of law-enforcement agencies everywhere: making a vague reference to a not-exactly-illegal-enough-to-make-it-worth-arresting-your-ass act to unnerve you. "Stay away from him," the officer finished.
"I don't take orders from you," Wrex retorted.
"This is your only warning, Wrex," the officer threatened, leaning down to bring his eyes level to Wrex's.
"You should warn Fist; I will kill him."
The officer broke eye contact to shake his head disbelievingly. "Do you want me to arrest you?"
"I want you to try."
Maybe he wasn't that aged after all.

Wrex noticed another C-Sec turian watching him over the human officer's shoulder. More interesting were the trio of armoured humans watching with him. Wrex gave the officer a last, contemptuous look and walked away, very carefully accidentally knocking him out of the way with his shoulder.
"Go on," he heard the officer call from behind him. "Get outta here!"

Wrex stomped over to where the humans and the turian were stood. One of the humans stepped forward. A recent memory jumped to his mind – almost ploughing through a similar human in Chora's Den.
"Do I know you, human?" he asked as he reached them.
"Shepard," the human introduced himself, "Alliance military. I hear you're gunning for Fist."
Wrex eyed the human. He remembered hearing that name a few years back when he was operating out in the Terminus. A lot of pirates and slavers went to bed at night cursing that name.
"Shepard," Wrex repeated thoughtfully. "Commander Shepard. I've heard a lot about you."
"Anything good?"
Wrex thought for a moment before answering. The Skyllian Blitz. The catastrophic raid that had put a sizeable dent in the pirate population of the Terminus. Most of it due to the 'Elysian Hero'. The survivors of the Blitz and the Alliance's revenge strikes still spoke about the lone warrior that had fended off more than a hundred men over the course of a day, delaying the raiders for long enough that the Alliance relief force had caught their fleet in orbit. Mostly, they spoke concerning their grudge and the horrible ways they planned to kill him. He decided against revealing that.
"What's your interest in Fist?" Wrex asked him instead.
"He's got information I need."
Wrex regarded Shepard for another long moment.
"We're both warriors, Shepard," Wrex said finally. "Out of respect, I'll give you fair warning." He leaned in closer. "I'm going to kill Fist."
"After I've got my intel, you can do what you damn well please," Shepard said. "Do you want to help us or not?"
Wrex considered it. It wasn't like he couldn't knock Chora's Den over with one eye – or probably both eyes - closed if he wanted to. Not to mention how much he hated having others getting in his way during a fight. On the other hand, he thought, C-Sec would be all over him if he actually did that and it would be nice to have someone competent at his side for a change, rather than the chaff he'd had to tolerate for the last few decades.
"My people have a saying," Wrex said slowly. "'Find the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend'." He held out a hand.
Shepard grasped and shook it. "Good enough," he said. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the elevator to the wards.
"Let's go," Wrex stretched out his neck. "I hate to keep Fist waiting."

A/N: Urgh. I've been picking away at this chapter for so long, I don't even know what exactly I didn't like about it anymore. If you think you know, please leave a review.