Chapter 10

La Roux: In For the Kill

A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than usual. Blame redecorating, and me being the only person in my house seemingly capable of lifting heavy objects and operating technology. On with the chapter!

This isn't how I saw things going.

Hanging upside down, blood gradually going to my head, swaying slightly, handgun gripped tightly in two hands. One round, one shot, one chance to get this right. The target is about thirty metres away, and I need a headshot if I'm gonna get out of this.

I breathe in deeply, steadying my grip. The sights line up with the skull…and I pull the trigger, recoil making me swing again as I watch the shot fly harmlessly past.

"FUCK!" I yell, as I pull myself back onto the pipe with my hands, then uncurl my legs from it and drop to the floor, legs aching slightly from the impact. That said, it's about the fiftieth time I've made that drop today, so I shouldn't be surprised by things taking their toll. And the twenty second time I've missed that shot, give or take one or two attempts.

We're in the garage style area beneath the main house, where the shutters are located for Garrus's recruitment mission…and its been set up as a training area, with boxes and crates scattered around, along with ledges, crawl spaces and pipes for infiltration training.

I've been getting pushed really, really damn hard. Weights, cardiovascular training, agility, aiming, tech…you name it, I've probably been over it. And nailed most of it down. But for some reason, hanging upside down and scoring a perfect headshot is still eluding me slightly.

"Spirits, you couldn't hit water if you fell out of a boat," Melanis mutters from next to me, scowling slightly. "On infiltration missions, this is the kind of shot you can't afford to miss!"

"I know," I say, barely able to conceal my frustration. "I remember that from the first hundred bloody times you mentioned it. And maybe if I hadn't been hanging upside down from a pipe for the past hour, my aim would be a little better, don't you think?"

The female turian just shrugs, fixing me with her piercing gaze. "If fatigue was your only problem, I wouldn't care. But your technique is awful."

"You're the first woman I've ever had tell me that."

It takes Melanis a few seconds to twig at what I'm getting at, then she releases a dangerous sounding growl as she jumps up to the pipe herself, grabbing it with her talons and swinging her legs up and around it. After a week of this, she's stopped using comebacks. "The recoil is going to force your gun down when you fire, so you want to aim slightly higher than your target." Melanis looses off a round from her weapon, hitting the practice dummy straight in the temple. "How you haven't learnt this yet is beyond me." She doesn't even bother tucking herself back up to drop, instead just twisting in the air as she releases her legs from the pipe, landing in a crouched position.

"I've made the shot before," I point out, as the turian stands back up again. "And all this hanging upside down is making me dizzy. Shouldn't we go back to tech training and look at this later?"

She frowns, then reluctantly nods her head. "Alright. As soon as you hit that target again, we can move onto tech."

Wait, again? "Once more is pushing your luck, Mel."

"Oh, is it?" she asks rhetorically, giving me a sadistic grin as she turns around and puts her talon at my neck. "I keep these sharp. And your hide isn't thick. So, I think you not doing as I say is pushing your luck."

"That's ridiculous," I say, unable to help sounding a little nervous. This past week, Melanis has hit me. Several times. Excuses range from me 'being an idiot' to her just being plain bored, but even if she won't gut me, a 'friendly' punch in the face isn't beyond her. Even Garrus is prepared to turn a blind eye to it. He calls it her motivating me, the bastard. "You're wearing gloves. And you can't pierce through armour."

"If you went to test that theory, be my guest," she growls lightly. "I can take these gloves off. And your neck is exposed by thinner plating than the rest. Believe me, after this past week, I definitely think it's worth a try."

"One more shot?"

"One more hit."

"You're harsh, Mel," I mutter, as the turian pulls her talon away and I jump back onto the pipe. "Using violence to coerce me into action."

"It's not my fault you react so well to it," she calls from below me.

"Still, do you have to enjoy it so much?"

There's a sharp chuckle from her. "Only for you, Ian, only for you."

I sigh slightly, beginning to lower myself down as I pull out my handgun. My brand new, pimped out handgun that Laet sorted for me. Same Predator design as before, but customised to perfection. I picked it up from him the day after I went to see Aria, along with my new armour…and I remember the turian's beaming face as I did.

"What've you got for me?" I asked, walking into Laet's workshop. The turian was fiddling with a pistol, making some last minute adjustments, when he looked up at me and smiled broadly.

"I have equipment beyond your wildest dreams," he said mock-dramatically, rising to his feet and sweeping his arm around. "Masterfully crafted, my own personal guarantee on all products."

I chuckled. "You only give that guarantee because the owner's gonna be dead if the equipment doesn't work."

"So cynical for someone so young," Laet replied, frowning at me, then snatching up the pistol and handing it over. "But I'm not joking. As a man who appreciates the handgun, you'll love this."

I take a glance at the gun now in my hand, as I hang down and take aim at the target again. On the surface, it looks almost identical to any old pistol. However, it fires silenced shots. The cooling systems have been optimised so I get an extra five shots out of every thermal clip, giving the gun a capacity of seventeen rounds. Predator pistols don't even bother me with recoil anymore, so he even managed to buff the mass accelerator to increase weapon impact. I'm getting a slight kick out of the weapon now, but it's hitting a hell of a lot harder.

"Melanis will probably explain this to you herself," the turian muttered, moving towards the back of the room to get something else. "But you need a more powerful handgun if you're in infiltration."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"You need one shot kills," Laet explained. "Basic stuff. If you're taking five shots to kill someone, by the time they're dead they'll have alerted all of their friends in the immediate vicinity."

I scratched the back of my head at that, feeling a little bit stupid. "Oh, of course. Wait, how are we gonna kill them if they're wearing full body armour?"

"Here's the joy," Laet said, sounding almost a little too gleeful. "Merc groups hire a lot of people, and generally they don't get messed with on Omega. They're always looking to save money. So, while mercs have armour suits, very few bother with helmets. The station is hot enough as it is, and from what I hear helmets aren't 'cool' these days. Combine that with the fact their shields are typically about as useful as…uh…"

"A ham sandwich at a Bar Mitzvah?" I suggested helpfully.

Laet just looked confused at that, then shrugged. "I'm guessing that makes sense, so okay. One headshot with this handgun should sort them out. Unless they've got better armour, but there's always melee kills."

"When did you get so knowledgeable about all this?"

"I've been hanging around everyone here for a while," the turian replied. "You pick things up, whether you want to or not. Plus, turian military experience. Anyway, just bear that in mind."

I nodded my head. "Thanks for the advice. What else is there?"

"I'm glad you asked," he said again, grinning like an excited child at Christmas as he turned around once again, holding a suit of armour in his hands. A fairly familiar looking set…but there was something different about it. The torso was the only place with any real plating, with the helmet obviously folded into the neck of it, as usual, but the rest seemed to be just the suit underlayer, coloured midnight black, with small pads around the elbows and knees.

The torso section was coloured black too, except for the dark crimson dragon swirled across the left hand side of it. "So, this is why you needed my old set?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Wanted to make sure I got the design right," he nodded. "This is significantly lighter than your old suit, lets you move almost as fast as if you were wearing nothing at all, though I don't want to think about that image." I laughed at that, while he pointed out the finer details. "The layer underneath will still apply medi-gel, and has shielding, but nothing powerful. Your armour is at the torso and head, everywhere else might be an issue. This was designed with maximum manoeuvrability in mind, not protection, since you shouldn't be getting shot at anyway."

"I understand. You kept the sliding helmet?"

"Of course," Laet grinned, pointing out controls on the wrist of the suit, weaved into the underlay. "Improved it, as well."

I was intrigued by that. "How so?"

"Four viewing modes. Regular vision, night vision, thermal vision, and sonar vision," he explained, sounding more and more enthused by the second. "Should sort you out in every scenario. Sonar even lets you see through walls. I did the same to the helmet on your combat suit, too. The mercs might have the numbers, but they're not a match for our equipment…"

I grin slightly at the memory, lifting my new pistol and putting the sight just above the dummy's head. Laet's still a bro, even after coming to Omega, and he really did give me the hook-up on gear. I've already put the different vision settings into practice, and they're phenomenally effective. Especially sonar. Looking through walls is awesome, even if the thing needs to refresh itself every ten seconds or so, which leaves me kinda blind.

"You're supposed to be killing the target, not yourself from a blood rush!" Melanis calls out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I grimace slightly, not wanting to shout anything back, double checking my aim, then I squeeze the trigger. Again, the recoil knocks my arms back slightly…but the round impacts against the dummy perfectly, making it wobble slightly as I drop down to the ground. I catch a quick glimpse of Melanis as I do…and there's actually a slight smile on her face, almost proud expression as she looks at the dummy. Then the usual face is back, slightly annoyed expression as she glances at me.

"Not bad," she concedes. Ah, what's the catch here? "But you took too long lining up the shot." I knew it! "Mercenaries tend to move around rather than just waiting to be shot."

"Shit. I never picked that up from fighting Saren and the geth."

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that?"

"Would it kill you to be?" I say, raising an eyebrow, then smiling slightly at the reaction I'm getting from her. Mandibles widened in frustrations, eyes narrowed. I realised rather quickly that Mel doesn't like me, and that I'm excellent at winding her up, so I'm just making a game out of it now. It's good banter. For me, anyway. "Would it? Just a little bit impressed?"

"The fact you survived all that remains a constant mystery to me," she sighs, Australian twang still firmly in her accent. I still haven't asked her about that…part of me thinks it's my translator glitching out, but that seems unlikely. I was waiting for a good moment to ask, but Melanis and I don't have good moments, so no time like the present!

"It might just be my translator," I say slowly, "but I'm picking you up as having an Earth accent."

She rolls her eyes at that. "Let me guess. Australian?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Why is it translating turian like th-"

"I'm speaking English, you mug," Melanis says. "It's my second bloody language, I like the practice with you, and it stops any translator issues."

Wait…if she's speaking English, then that's her genuine accent. "You were brought up on Earth?"

"He finally realises. Good to see you're not a total idiot," the turian sighs. "Yeah. I moved to Melbourne when I was four, then to Omega when I was twenty two. Been here for just over a year now. I barely even remember the turian colony I was born on."

"Eighteen years living on Earth?" I laugh. "Damn, you've spent as much time on the human homeworld as I have!"

"I'm more used to humans than I am my own species," she says, obviously appreciating the irony. "And I picked up the accent."

"Why the move to Omega?"

All the friendliness off Melanis' demeanour suddenly disappears, instead replaced with a cold glare and folded arms. Shit, that was a really bad question…generally asking about stuff like that doesn't help around here. "It's a long story. And I don't want to tell it anyway."

"Alright," I nod, feeling embarrassed. "I didn't mean to bring anyt-"

"Don't," she says simply, shaking her head. "Just don't." We stand in awkward silence for a few seconds, then she mutters something I don't quite catch under her breath and looks at me. "Tactical cloaking, then. You've already got the basics down, but-"

There's a simultaneous beeping noise from both our omni-tools, as I glance down.

One new message: Garrus V.

Team meeting in main lounge. Something's come up we all need to deal with.

I exchange a quick glance with Melanis. "You know anything about this?"

"No, Ian, that's why there's a bloody meeting," she shoots back. "Come on. We don't want to keep anyone waiting."

###########

Most of the group is already on the central couches as Melanis and I walk into the lounge, with the last few stragglers taking their seats. Unfortunately, my training regime has been extremely strict, with time for socialising almost non-existent. Still, I know all the squad, and they know me, plus I've got a basic handle on everyone's personality. Basically, everyone except Grundan Krul and Vortash are friendly enough to talk. I guess I can work on actually making social links once she's satisfied I've been trained…though, with Melanis, that might never happen. The female turian herself makes a bee-line for Montague on seeing him, the drell greeting her with a smile as he sits next to her. Huh…I drop down next to Butler, and look over at Garrus.

"Is everyone here?" he asks, as all of glance around and I run through the numbers in my head. Twelve people present…missions and stuff have still be going on while I've been training, but it's basic patrol stuff, keeping an eye on mercs and attacking anything that presents an easy target. For a whole team meeting, though, this must be something major. "Alright. You're probably wondering why I called you all here."

"Feel free to tell us," Butler mutters from next to me, getting some smirks from around the group. Fortunately, Garrus is one of them. "I got plenty to be doing without some shitey pep-talk."

"Then I'll get to the point, Butler, just for you," the turian counters. "We all know Omega has a huge red sand problem, but I've done some digging and I think I've found a way to put a serious dent in it."

I catch Erash rolling his eyes from across the room. "If it's blowing up a supply or something, we've done this before. Explosions are routine."

"In that case, you take some charges and a detonator next time, and sort it out yourself," Weaver says. "Nothing routine about explosives." He has got a point there, actually…but already, the discussion seems to be falling into arguments. Garrus, however, doesn't seem too bothered. It is all pretty light-hearted, after all. He just clears his throat, and all attention in the room snaps back to him when he does. Damn, that's some respect…

"This isn't just one strike. This is lots of targets, lots of different things we'll need to do, and one man behind it all," he explains. "His name is Thralog Mirki'it, he's a batarian."

"Why does that name sound familiar…" I hear Mierin mutter, which makes Sidonis swivel his head slightly and face him.

"It sounds familiar because Mirki'it is the red sand lynchpin on this station," the barefaced turian says. "Omega has several networks for selling it to people who live here, which the merc groups supply, but he runs the largest one."

I shake my head slightly. "I'm guessing he's not a nice guy."

"No," Sidonis sighs. "With a business like that, you can't be nice. His network supplies the mercenary groups with a ton of credits for supplies and security, but his business practices aren't exactly respectable."

Garrus steps in to take over there. "He ruthlessly exploits the addicts he helps create. When they're hooked and haven't got any way to pay for their next hit, he takes them in and uses them as slave labour, paying them in red sand. It's digusting." There's a real passion in Garrus' voice at that, a real fury…which I understand perfectly. This sounds fucked up. "If we get rid of him, it's going to help destroy some of the slave labour on this place, remove a big part of the red sand business, and deal a big blow to the mercs."

There's a slight pause, which encourages me to speak up. "So…I assume we're going after him, right?"

"I don't think I need to take a vote on this," Garrus chuckles. "This is exactly the kind of person this team was formed to stop."

"How're you going to do that?" Grundan asks gruffly. "Just killing him isn't going to solve anything. Someone else will pick up the business."

"He's right," Butler points out. "We can kill the wee prick, but there's hundreds more little bastards like him on this station just waiting to take over."

Garrus holds up a talon for silence, smiling slightly to himself. So far, I'm pretty much content to just sit back and watch him do this. I'm impressed…and actually kind of proud. Everyone around here respects him, he's in control, and he knows what he's doing. Come a long way from the idealistic cop three years ago… "I've thought about this. His organisation works simply. Production, dealing, enforcement. We destroy them, the whole thing crumbles, and no-one wants to take over a wreck. And all the business aspects are interlocked."

"So, we attack them all at once?" Melanis asks.

"Yeah," Garrus nods. "Production and dealing are closely linked, but if we just destroy production facilities he can outsource off Omega, which means he'd have to give the mercs even more money. So, to make that more risky for him, we need to attack every red sand shipment we can. That'll drive prices up."

Oh, I see where this is going...damn, this is a masterful plan! "But if we take down his facilities on Omega, and attack the dealing side of business, he's not going to be able to afford that."

"Exactly," the turian grins, obviously pleased I'm understanding. "We can 'persuade' dealers he's not the best person to work with. He won't have anyone to sell his surplus, he won't have any way to get stuff in from off-world because it's so expensive, and he won't have any means of production on Omega. Then we take him down. Perfect."

I stare around the room, taking in all the nodding heads, and I can't help but feel slightly amazed. In about five minutes, we just worked out a way to destroy an entire red sand network. I understand why this beats C-Sec… "When do we start?" Weaver asks simply. Butler cracks his knuckles next to me for extra effect. Nice.

"Tonight," Garrus says. "The Blue Suns have a big shipping dock for everything they take in, smuggled weapons, red sand, the usual criminal items. This might be a prolonged campaign to put prices up, but if we're going to do it, we may as well start on a big target like this. The more people that hear about this, the better." Makes sense…if people are worried about smuggling shipments going foul, it's going to become a more lucrative business. Danger money. Playing right into our hands.

Well, if I didn't think Garrus was a genius before, I sure as hell do now.

"You're going to need a team," Sidonis says confidently. "Count me in." He's the typical foot-soldier guy, assault rifle and all that, so I reckon he could work. Besides, he hasn't betrayed us yet.

"I've already worked out the team. Sidonis, you're coming, then I need Weaver, Butler and…Ian."

Uh, what? "This is an all out assault. I'm supposed to be the infiltration guy, remember?"

"You were fine against the geth on Virmire," he points out. "Maybe infiltration is your speciality, but you're still a good soldier. I want to make sure you haven't lost what skills you had, anyway."

"He had skills? Could've fooled me," Melanis mutters sarcastically from across the room, getting a few laughs. I'm tempted to flick her off, but nah. I'll be the bigger man. Even though she's a woman. Whatever.

"We're moving out in about an hour," Garrus chuckles. Wait, he was laughing too? Son of a bitch! "Everyone who's on the squad, get prepped and meet by the Kodiak in…an hour. And don't be too hard on Ian, it's his first time." There's more laughter at that, as the turian shoots me a grin, and I can't help laughing a little myself. I'm not sure why it's funny to me, it just is. "Good luck, everyone!"

There's variations on 'thanks, Garrus' from around the room, as people begin to file out. I catch a quick glimpse of Melanis with her hand on Montague's shoulder, laughing at some unknown joke, then they split apart. Maybe they're an item? Or building up to it, anyway? Man, if only Wrex was here…

"You should go and get some medi-gel," Garrus says from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to look at him. "Besides, I think Montague's been wanting to see you since you got here."

That's…interesting. I've wanted to talk to him too, but he's always been busy whenever I've tried, even though we've exchanged a few nods of greeting and stuff at team meetings. I think the drell is just curious to actually know who I am…and frankly, I'm curious to meet him, too. So I guess this works for both of us. "I guess I've got time to kill," I shrug. Laet's still got my combat suit in my equipment locker, along with the infiltration one…and given this mission, something tells me the combat suit might be more appropriate. But that shouldn't take too long to get, so I'll go and see Montague first. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Don't worry about it. How's training with Melanis?"

"About as good as you can expect. I still think she's trying to kill me."

"She's motivating you."

"I knew you'd say that," I sigh, shaking my head at the grin on the turian's face. "I'm gonna go see Montague. You go piss someone else off for a change."

"Am I getting to you?" Garrus asks teasingly, as I begin to walk away. "You just can't handle my devastating wit."

"You're worse than she is!" I shout back, as I reach the door to the med-bay and step through. Montague is sitting in a chair by his desk at the back of the room, beds lined up against the wall, along with all manner of medical equipment neatly stored on the right wall. He swivels his chair slowly around, then smiles a little when he sees it me. For some reason, I'm getting déjà vu there…probably because Chakwas did something similar.

"Ian Shaw," he says coolly, with a slight inclination of his head, and gestures to a seat by his desk. "Good to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's mine," I smile, taking the seat and holding out a hand. "It's just Ian. Or Shaw, whichever you prefer." Montague shakes my hand, and it feels kind of weird…blue scales sliding across my palm, along with the fact he has webbed hands, and a firm grip. Not unpleasant, though, just different from what I'm used to.

"Ian," he replies, looking thoughtful. "It is customary to call people by their first name, isn't it?"

I nod, letting go of his hand and settling back into the seat slightly. "Yeah. I don't really mind, though, some people reckon Shaw has more of a ring to it."

"I'll bear that in mind," the drell says, rising to his feet and heading over to one of the storage units mounted on the wall. I can't help but glance at the hand I used to shake with…and the palm has turned slightly red. It's already fading, but it reminds me of something…

Prolonged human to drell skin contact can cause small rash, itching, I hear Mordin's voice say. Oral contact may cause mild hallucinations.

Shit, why'd I have to remember that last bit? While Montague's standing right here? I wince slightly, trying to get the thought out of my head…and see the drell giving me a rather odd look. Oh, God, this is embarrassing…he can't know what I was thinking, but part of me feels as if I said that line out loud. "So, uh, you got any medi-gel?" I ask quickly.

Montague's expression suddenly changes from a concerned frown to a slight smile. "This is a medical bay, so yes, I would certainly hope so." I literally facepalm at that, and hear the drell chuckling. "Are you sure you're alright, Ian? You are perspiring rapidly." Fuck, I tend to sweat when I'm freaking out…may as well try and sort this all out.

"Look," I say, trying to calm myself, "I wanted to try and make a good first impression here, and I've totally ballsed it up. Can we just forget this happened and try again?"

"Drell have eidetic memories," he replies, definite edge of amusement to his voice, "and you are asking me to forget we met?"

The smile on the drell's face grows even wider when he says that. He's having fun with this! "Right, now you're just toying with me," I grin, feeling a lot more relaxed when Montague breaks into a slightly husky laugh and grabs some medi-gel.

"Correct," he nods, still smiling as he sits back down. His voice is quite controlled, each word formed deliberately when he speaks…and he's surprisingly well spoken. Plus he has a dickish sense of humour. I can see us getting along just grand… "For someone credited with things like the Battle of the Citadel and defeating krogan battlemasters, you get nervous very easily. Though if the stories I hear about Melanis' training regime are true, I suppose you being on edge shouldn't come as a surprise."

Part of me is screaming to take the medi-gel and run before I make even more of an arse of myself, but I ignore it. "Whatever stories you've heard, it's probably worse," I reply, giving an exaggerated sigh. "As for getting nervous, I think I get so worried about not appearing to be an idiot it makes me do it anyway." It usually happens around really calm people, as well…Montague hasn't raised his voice, he's been incredibly respectful on meeting me…I like it, but for some reason it always makes me unsure how to act.

"A common affliction," the drell says reassuringly. "Just be yourself. If Garrus it to be believed, we'll be seeing a lot of each other, so I should get to know the real you."

"Alright," I nod, feeling a little more relaxed at his words. Besides, his whole demeanour is making me chill out a bit more anyway. Is that the best thing before a mission, actually? "He's told you about my injuries, huh?"

"In their multitude," Montague replies, reaching over to his private terminal and pressing a few keys. A list pops up onto the screen…with some very familiar incidents on it.

"Shit…" I say under my breath, glancing down the first page. Dislocated shoulder from fighting Caltan Xenvalis, getting shot in the chest and killed, which makes the scar itch slightly when I read it…all the various incidents at C-Sec, and that doesn't look like the end of the document. "How long is that list?"

"Almost three pages," he replies, blacking out the terminal screen again. "I admit, when Garrus gave me these details, I was expecting to see a walking corpse. Arashu must be watching you carefully indeed."

That name sounds really familiar, actually…probably something Thane mentions. Religion is supposed to be very important to drell, so this shouldn't come as a huge surprise. "Sorry, Arashu?"

"Goddess of Motherhood and Protection," Montague explains. "Though I believe her role with you mostly comprises of the latter."

"You can say that again," I chuckle. I've never been religious, but the thought that something's watching over me is kinda cool like that. "I just put it down to luck, but if Arashu's got my back, that'll help too."

"Indeed it will," he says, smiling slightly. "That said, I still suggest you take the medi-gel. As powerful as Arashu is, she cannot heal bullet wounds."

I gesture back over at the terminal. "I think the list proves that rather well."

"Agreed."

"So, how'd you meet Garrus?" I ask. Montague seems friendly enough, and it's not a pushy question. If he doesn't want to answer, it'll be cool.

Montague looks at me for a few seconds, gaze roving across my face. I dunno what it is…but something about him make it seem like he's searching me, seeing if he can trust me. Large, inky pools staring at me…not gonna lie, drell do have awesome eyes. "I came here to start a medical clinic," he explains, snapping me out of trance-like stare into his eyes. "The hanar trained me in medicine, amongst other things, and I left to seek out those in the galaxy who needed my help. Omega seemed a good choice. However, circumstances setting up here were…problematic. There were altercations between myself and mercenary groups." His previously confident smile is gone now, replaced by a slight frown.

"We shouldn't talk about it if you don't want to," I say quickly, not wanting to push the point in our first meeting. "I don't want you to slip into solipism."

Montague looks unsure for a second, then nods. "Perhaps you are right. We should not talk about that kind of thing before a mission, anyway. Speaking of which…"

I take a quick glance at the time on my omni-tool. I've still got a little while until the shuttle leaves…but I need to get my armour and weapons sorted out, plus I don't want to be the last one at the Kodiak. Reluctantly, I rise to my feet. So far, Montague seems cool, so I'll definitely be coming back here. I mean, I'll almost certainly be here through injuring myself or something, but if not I'm returning of my own volition. "I do need to put some stuff together. It was really good meeting you."

"Likewise," he says, again inclining his head to me slightly. I think it's a mark of respect or something…so I do the same back. "Before you leave, though, I have a question. You mentioned solipsism to me…I didn't realise it was something many humans knew of."

Shit, three years and I'm still displaying knowledge I shouldn't…time to fall back on the old excuse. "It's not," I shrug. "But I'm interested in different cultures. Amazing what you can find on Omnipedia."

The drell nods, his curiosity obviously sated. "I see. Drell often travel to different places to experience the cultures of other races. It's part of the reason I travelled here."

"I'd love to travel," I admit. And I really, really would. C-Sec kept me on the Citadel, there wasn't exactly much time to holiday when I was going around with Shepard…and there's so many places I haven't seen yet. Palaven, Sur'Kesh…maybe after everything with the Reapers is over, I'll get my chance.

"You would like Kahje, I think," Montague smiles. "Though there is always rain there."

"Eh, I'm British," I shrug. "Rain can't faze me."

He laughs at that again, turning back to his terminal as he does so. "Of course. Good luck on your first mission, Ian. If Arashu truly protects you, perhaps Amonkira favours you too."

"I'll take all the help I can get," I smile. That's one god I do remember… "And the Lord of Hunters would be a useful ally. I'll see you later, Montague." The drell nods, and the med-bay door slides shut behind me as I step back into the house, and start to stride off towards my equipment locker. I might not believe in his gods…but having a drell tell me Arashu and Amonkira are watching me is oddly reassuring. Makes me think about Thane's prayer, anyway.

Amonkira, Lord of Hunters. Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift.

And should the worst come to pass, at least let me blow some shit up.

A/N: Yay for getting some interactions in! Obviously all the characters are important, but you should already be able to guess which ones are gonna show up slightly more than others. Everyone will get their turn, though, so don't worry! (Actually, it's kind of a long story…so they'll probably get several turns).

So, that's the plan laid out. Next chapter, we tackle the first real Omega mission…and the campaign to bring down Thralog Mirki'it begins. Fun stuff.

Also, I should point out the idea of 'Omnipedia' (the future version of Wikipedia) belongs to TheRev28, who's writing a rather brilliant story called 'Welcome to The Family'. Which you should all read.

I know I sound like a broken record saying this, but thanks for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.

Later!