Omega 3
"You ever fought krogan before, Shepard?" Vakarian called out over the gunfire.
She hadn't.
Since joining the crew of the Resolute after Torfan, the ship had been deployed on a series of operations against batarian forces and their privateer allies on the edges of Hegemony space. The batarians - who frequently boasted of the innate superiority of their species to the other intelligent life of the galaxy - were disinclined to hire non-batarian mercenaries, and certainly not the violent and uncultured krogan. More simply, most batarian pirate groups couldn't afford to pay the credits that krogan mercenaries demanded.
"It's not as fun as you'd imagine," Vakarian reflected. "Unless you're a krogan too, of course. Nothing a krogan enjoys more than fighting other krogan."
The two of them were pinned down in an alley, sheltering behind abandoned warehouse storage units and broken machinery. None of it offered any real protection from the gunfire of the two krogan and their vorcha allies at the mouth of the alley, which is why almost all of Shepard's attention was focused on keeping her biotic barrier up at maximum strength.
Vakarian's sniper rifle rested ignored at his back - no use in conditions like this. He peered around the corner of the crate he was crouching behind, holding the same pistol he'd drawn outside Afterlife hours before.
"Armoured skin too tough to cut with anything but a molecular blade..." he mused out loud, firing off a couple of rounds as the vorcha crept slowly forwards.
"Secondary and tertiary back-ups of all major organs…"
Shepard's barrier absorbed a burst of gunfire from the vorcha, while Vakarian unclipped and reloaded a heat sink.
"A redundant nervous system, almost unbelievable regenerative rates…"
Another few rounds from the pistol were rewarded with a sudden, short yelp of pain from the vorcha.
"Seven feet tall, weight as much as eight hundred pounds, and a charging speed which … well, you don't want them to charge you, trust me ..."
A snarling krogan grabbed a retreating vorcha by the back of the neck and hurled him forwards, before cocking his shotgun and advancing forward himself.
"Young krogan are rare, thanks to the genophage, so most of the krogan you'll ever fight will have hundreds of years of experience in battle "
Shepard took a chance and dropped her barrier for a second; focusing her energy instead on pulling at the shotgun in the krogan's hands. That was just enough to make the krogan misfire, one shot hitting the back of the unfortunate vorcha he'd just thrown in front of him and two others going harmlessly into the air.
"And the older they get, the smarter, tougher and meaner they become."
Shepard's barriers sprang back into place just in time, as the other krogan sprayed the position she and Vakarian were crouching behind with a hail of gunfire.
Vakarian nodded to Shepard in appreciation, loaded another heat sink, and exhaled slowly.
"On the plus side," he continued, "Most krogans aren't biotic, but-"
There was a distinctive flicker of blue light from the alleyway entrance, and a sound like thunder as a wave of biotic energy crashed into and around Shepard's barrier, shattering the windows of the warehouse behind them.
"But those that are tend to be tougher and meaner than most." Vakarian sighed.
"You're trapped, Spectre," a booming voice called out. "Surrender, we let your pyjak leave here alive, and we might not even hurt you that much before we hand you over to our employer. Or ... don't. More fun for us if you don't."
"I don't know what a 'pyjak' is," Shepard whispered to Vakarian. "But I'm guessing that's not a compliment."
Vakarian's only answer to both of them was to wordlessly unpin an incendiary grenade, count silently to himself for two seconds, then throw it towards the alley mouth in the direction the krogan voice had come from. After the initial blast of the explosion, Shepard heard the sound of burning rubbish, screaming vorcha and a krogan … wait, is that laughter?
"Not a smart choice, turian." the booming voice called out again, mockingly. "But if you were smart, you wouldn't have dared to enter Blood Pack territory without an escort. If you were smart, you wouldn't be trapped."
The speaker emerged through the smoke and ash of the explosion, a tall krogan, clad in blood-red armour, shimmering with the blue glow of biotic energy. Behind him followed the first two krogan, as well as more of their vorcha underlings than she could easily count.
The krogan biotic grinned, baring a set of cracked and yellowing fangs.
"And yet here you are." he said.
Vakarian muttered something under his breath. He looked a lot more worried than he had a few minutes ago. Shepard shot a quizzical glance in his direction.
"That's a Battlemaster," he said softly. "One of the rare krogan even other krogan don't enjoy fighting."
"Any ideas how we're going to get past him?" she asked.
"Dropping something heavy on them from orbit tends to do the trick," he said. "But I guess we'll have to improvise."
At the Battlemaster's urging, the vorcha ran forward again, spraying their position with wild bursts of gunfire. Shepard's barrier flickered and rippled under the onslaught. Not for the first time, she wished she'd thought to bring a helmet with her. At least she had a weapon; a spare pistol that she'd grabbed from the Resolute's armoury before leaving the Citadel and now drew from behind her back. It felt strange and unfamiliar in her hands, but at least it let her fight back while keeping her biotic reserves maintained. She doubted it would be much use against the krogan, but it worked well enough on the vorcha, whose desperate forward surge had left at half a dozen of them dead already.
Still, the vorcha assault, chaotic and undisciplined at it was, was pushing them back towards the end of the alleyway. Right where the krogan want us. Still, the krogan seemed to be holding back. It was as if they were content to keep them trapped in place. No doubt they had reinforcements on the way. All the krogan had to do was keep them where they were until those reinforcements arrived.
On cue, another biotic shockwave rolled down the alley, ripping bricks from the walls and throwing dust and soot into the air. It slammed against Shepard's barrier like a tidal wave; her head flared with the pain of keeping her barrier in place. He's strong, she admitted to herself.
Biotics were rare among turians, and unheard of among humans before they'd settled on worlds beyond Earth. Shepard had met a few more powerful biotics: Saren, a few asari, arguably Nicollier back on the Resolute. But it was a rare thing; rare and frustrating. She was used to being the best. She had to be, or-
"Shepard." Even half-drowned out by the sound of gunfire, the concern in Vakarian's voice was obvious. "Are you doing okay?"
"I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this barrier up," she admitted.
"I've got a plan," he said. "Well, actually it's more of an idea - can you keep him busy for a few more minutes?"
Shepard nodded, hoping that she looked more confident than she felt. I can do it, she told herself. The krogan was still raining down biotic blows on her barrier, but her defences were holding firm. Maybe it was time to see how could the krogan was at defending himself.
She blocked the next attack with her barrier, and the next, trying to get a sense of the krogan's timing. Now. Just before the next anticipated attack, in the split second she judged he'd be at his most vulnerable, she hit back with a biotic shockwave of her own, as hard as she could.
Her blast was enough to throw the vorcha crowding around him off their feet, and to send them sliding and wailing backwards, but the krogan only laughed again, hollow and mocking.
"I see your biotic knows more than one trick, turian" he called out. "Couple of centuries and she might even get good at it. Shame she won't live long enough for us to find out."
His counter-attack went higher than Shepard was expecting - over her barrier, crashing into the wall behind her. Glass fragments and brick rained down on them from above as the vorcha charged forward again.
"How's that plan going, Vakarian?" Shepard asked.
"I told you, it's more of an idea," said the Spectre. "But I think-"
The vorcha howled in unison, swarming past the krogan biotic. For a minute or more there was no time to talk: both of them focused solely on holding their position. One vorcha leapt through the air - she wasn't sure whether it had jumped or been thrown - and almost managed to scramble over the crate she was pressed up behind before Vakarian managed to shoot it.
Shepard nodded to Vakarian and turned back to face the vorcha when something flew over the makeshift barricade and bounced to a halt a few feet away from them. Something small and metallic and-
"Grenade!" she shouted, pulling up a barrier around herself and the turian just in time. The force of the explosion was still enough to knock them both backwards; she caught herself on the turian's arm with one hand, fingers of the other hand still splayed out in the usual mnemonic pattern.
Outside her barrier the grenade did more damage: the explosion smashed through their barricades, flames spreading out throughout the alleyway. Her head rang with the noise of the blast and and the whole ground seemed to shake and buckle.
Wait, she thought, It's not just me, this is actually happening.
There was a splintering, breaking noise below them and then they were falling, slipping and sliding into the darkness as the ground gave way beneath their feet.
Shepard's old asari instructor had been fond of a trick which Shepard had never been able to pull off: jumping from a high place, she'd catch herself in a mass effect field as she fell, using her biotics to lower herself smoothly down before landing gently on her feet. She'd never expected any of her students to be able to do it and - although Shepard had practiced secretly for weeks in a vain attempt to prove the asari wrong - she'd not been surprised.
Luckily they didn't fall very far. Shepard had just enough time to try to raise her arms up to protect her head before she crashed into the ground below.
She picked herself up carefully: she'd landed on her side and it looked like her suit had absorbed most of the force of the impact. From the corner of her eye she saw Vakarian lift himself up as well: he had a few cuts and scrapes, but didn't seem to have any serious injuries either.
They'd fallen about ten feet, landing in a dark subsurface space. The only source of light came from the hole they'd fallen through, where the flames of the explosion still burned brightly in the pale and reflected light of Omega's perpetual twilight. It felt like this space had been here for some time. At least it's dry, whatever it is, she thought. She hoped it wasn't a sewer.
("We need the turian alive, you idiots!" she heard the tall krogan bellow furiously above them. "I said no grenades!")
"What is this place?" she asked, looking around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Some sort of access tunnel, I'd guess," Vakarian replied, "Look: on the far side, there's a ladder leading back up."
There was, she saw. Though the top of the ladder had sheared away from the wall after the explosion, and now jutted out into empty space. Not that we'd want to go back up.
Apart from the ladder, the only other way out seemed to be ahead of them: the tunnel stretched out into the darkness.
"We've got a couple of minutes before the krogan follow us down here," said Vakarian. "At least, I hope we do. Let's make the most of it."
They headed off at a brisk pace; marching away from the hole in the tunnel roof and into the unknown ahead.
"That krogan said his employer was after you, specifically." she said. "Any idea why?"
"No," he said, sounding puzzled. "I've never been to Omega before. Didn't realise I'd made any enemies powerful enough to hire krogan mercenaries on the off-chance that I would." He trailed off. mandibles twitching silently.
Shepard told herself they could try to figure this out later, after they'd escaped. Somebody had known that Vakarian would be coming to Omega, had known he'd be meeting Shol's asari contact. But who would have known that, and why would they care?
They kept moving in silence for a few more minutes. The tunnel seemed to be winding around slowly, turning them back in the direction they'd started to walk. Hopefully it reconnected to the surface soon, she thought. Hopefully they'd be able to get out before the krogan realised what had happened.
"What was your idea, anyway?" she asked Vakarian curiously.
"Well, ah," the turian said, "It's not important."
She shot a look at him, curiously., He sounded … embarrassed?
"Well," he said, reluctantly, after a few moments, "The wall behind us didn't look too stable. So I was thinking we could-"
"Wait," she interrupted. "You were going to suggest we blow the wall down, weren't you?"
She supposed it wasn't really that funny, but she couldn't help laughing at his reaction. The sound of her laughter reverberated strangely in the depth of the tunnel. And so did something else.
"Wait," she hissed, coming to a halt and listening more closely. "I think I hear something." A deep booming echo, voices almost on the edge of hearing.
"I hear it too," said Vakarian, grimly. "Krogan"
A few minutes later they emerged in a large, open space. An old factory, maybe? She wasn't sure. The place was full of old, disused machinery: empty vats, leaking fuel canisters, rusting forklifts and loading mechs. Along the walls, steel walkways ran from side to side, with occasional stairs and ladders leading up. There were also two concrete stairwells built into the walls opposite: they seemed to head up to the top of the building. Two krogan were waiting in front of the stairs, standing guard. Neither of them was the biotic, but she couldn't be sure they were the same two krogan that had ambushed them in the alley earlier.
Vakarian and Shepard crouched carefully at the edge of the tunnel, just out of sight of the krogans.
It was obvious how the two of them had got in: a set of large steel doors, wide enough to drive a truck through. It was also obvious that the krogan had been busy since they arrived: a solid wall of rubble, shattered girders and debris now blocked the doors. It looked like it would take hours for them to shift it.
There didn't seem to be any obvious alternative exits, other than the tunnel they'd just left. And from the slowly increasing volume of the noises behind them, it was clear that the krogan biotic and vorcha were on their way. Shepard wasn't sure what they were going to do. Lucky I brought a Spectre along.
"I hate waiting," one of the krogan grumbled, loudly. "There's no sign of the turian or the biotic."
"Orders are orders," the other krogan growled in response. "Wait here, block all the exits and wait for Garm and the vorcha to flush the targets up out of the tunnel. And you know Garm will have our heads if the turian escapes again."
Shepard guessed that Garm was the krogan biotic they'd fought in the alley. A Battlemaster, Vakarian had called him. She wondered if the title meant that all krogan military leaders were biotics. The thought was oddly unsettling.
"Any idea who this 'Garm' is?" she asked Vakarian softly, hoping that her voice wouldn't carry so far as the krogans'.
Vakarian shook his head slowly, then got the slightly distant look Shepard had learned meant he was looking something up with his visor.
"Leader of the Blood Pack, apparently," he said. "Never heard of him myself."
Blood Pack territory, the krogan had called this place. She wondered if he'd known about the tunnels. It would explain why he'd known to send his troops to this building. Unless there are more of them than we saw, she thought. Unless they're spread out over several different buildings.
"The Blood Pack used to just be a minor vorcha gang," Vakarian continued, "Up until a few krogan exiles took over a few years back. These days they're one of the more powerful gangs on Omega, engaged in mercenary work and general criminal behaviour throughout the Terminus Systems. No surprise that they're not fond of turians, of course, but I don't know what their problem is with me specifically."
Shepard wasn't sure what the plan was now. If what the krogan had said could be believed, they weren't getting out this way. She doubted they could clear the rubble in front of the doors before Garm and the vorcha arrived. She looked back at Vakarian, raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Well," he said, "I've got an idea..."
The two krogan didn't see what hit them. One minute they were standing guard idly, the next minute they were both sprawling on the floor, their feet swept out from under them by a biotic shockwave. As they clambered to their feet, the biotic responsible ran past them, heading for the exit doors at first then darting away to the side. The krogan didn't stop to think, but with a roar they set off in pursuit.
Shepard risked a look back over her shoulder for a second. Both the krogan were behind her, closing in fast. Just as we planned. If everything else was going to plan, Vakarian had used her distraction to sneak into the stairwell, and was heading up. If. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he wasn't.
She forced herself to slow down, to turn around. She nodded to the two krogan calmly, teeth slightly bared. Krogan had evolved from pack animals, Vakarian had told her. Their instincts were to chase running prey, but their ancestors had never been the dominant predator on Tuchanka. If she could convince them she was a serious threat, they'd treat her more cautiously. They might eve-
One of the krogan lowered his head and charged straight at her, faster than she'd have guessed possible without Vakarian's warning earlier. Her fingers splayed out as she reached out and pulled, using the mercenaries momentum against him. She dropped to her knees in and rolled in a practiced motion, passing just under the snarling krogan as he flew up and over her and slammed head first into the concrete wall behind her.
The impact would have broken a turian or batarian's neck, but the krogan just picked himself up, scowled irritably, and turned around to try to find her again. Vakarian was right, she thought. This isn't going to be fun.
⟨⟨ I'm in. ⟩⟩ His voice suddenly buzzed in her earpiece, the usual twin tones sounding oddly flat and compressed. ⟨⟨ Up on one of the top level walkways. I can see you now. No sign of Garm yet. ⟩⟩
She risked a glance upwards and almost got hit by one of the krogan: a wild shotgun blast that deflected - barely - on the edge of her barrier. She spun around to face with him when a second shot rang out, from a different weapon, and she heard the krogan roar in shock and pain.
⟨⟨ Scoped and dropped. ⟩⟩ Vakarian crowed. ⟨⟨ Right between the eyes. ⟩⟩
Despite the poor quality of the signal, she could almost see the Spectre smirking as he said it.
⟨⟨ Huh. ⟩⟩ he said, a few seconds later, sounding a lot less smug. ⟨⟨ Looks like that was just a flesh wound. Well, that's krogan regeneration for you. ⟩⟩
Meanwhile, the other krogan had doubled behind her, trying to surround her. She had to use her barrier to block shots from both directions, and be alert for more charges from both her left and her right. She was running out of time and ideas. Garm and his vorcha would surely be arriving soon. She had to do something. Her fingers flexed aimlessly for a second or two while she tried to work out what to do next.
Her borrowed pistol rested at her side; good enough for vorcha, maybe, but not much use against krogan. Maybe she'd get somebody to teach her how to use a shotgun, once she was safely back on the Resolute.
⟨⟨ There's some sort of fuel storage unit on your six. ⟩⟩ Vakarian suggested suddenly. ⟨⟨ I can get a better angle if you try to lead them there. ⟩⟩
Moving backwards was something she could do, at least. The next time the krogan pushed forwards, she let herself take a step more backwards than she would otherwise have done, then another. She couldn't just turn and run: the krogan would see that as a sign of weakness. Instead she forced herself to pace backwards, slowly, blocking shots with her barrier and flinging out shockwaves to keep the krogan distracted.
She almost walked right into the fuel tank Vakarian had identified. That would have been embarrassing. Only some last second instinct or barely processed peripheral glimpse stopped her.
The fuel tank seemed to be abandoned, though she couldn't tell how long for. Old pipes and cables still linked it to half a dozen machines scattered around the rest of the factory floor. She let her barrier fade, for a second, then with a curl of her left hand threw the krogan on her right hand side as hard as she could in the direction of the other one. It didn't do them any serious damage, but it sent them both sprawling for a crucial instant.
As the krogan picked themselves up, she scrambled under one of the pipes, putting the fuel tank between her and the two krogan. Without speaking, the two krogan split up, each coming around a different side towards her.
⟨⟨ Got them. ⟩⟩
Even as Vakarian's voice crackled in her ear, the sound of his sniper rifle rang out in the darkness. The shot flew just over the krogans' heads, embedding itself in one of the rusting pipes. Shepard didn't think either of them heard the faint noise of escaping gas. They exchanged a look, one of them shaking his head mockingly while the other shrugged. She didn't think they noticed her backing away either.
"See?" the first krogan said. "The turian cannot even hit a simple targe-"
That was when the second shot flew past him, striking a spark which ignited the gas that had been leaking from the pipe. Within a second everything around the fuel tank was surrounded in flame. Everything including the krogan. Vakarian had warned her that this might not be enough: krogan could regenerate burnt skin and damaged organs, survive fires that would have killed members of other species a dozen times over. If they could put the fires out.
Shepard's fingers twitched and curled as she reached out and pulled, strands of dark energy webbing around the two burning figures and setting them both drifting helplessly up into the air, still consumed in flames. They struggled, for a while, but there was no escape, no way of quenching the fires that still consumed them.
The screaming lasted a lot longer than Shepard had expected.
She caught up with Vakarian again a few minutes later, up on the top floor of the building. This floor looked like it had been an office space, she thought, though all the furniture had been stripped out long ago. Al that was left were some stained carpets, dusty walls and a few large glass windows, opening out onto the darkness of Omega seven floors down.
"Well, that was the easy part," the turian said grimly. "Now we've really made him angry."
They could hear Garm and the surviving vorcha below. The krogan was barking out orders furiously, punctuated with the occasional biotic flare or shotgun blast. The vorcha's voices rang out in response: echoing back orders or whimpering in pain after one of the gun blasts.
"Ready?" asked Vakarian quietly.
She nodded. This was the part of the plan she was most worried about. But she'd not been able to suggest anything that the turian thought was more likely to work. This will work, she told herself. It would have to.
Vakarian was already heading down the stairs, back to the main floor.
Garm and the vorcha could still be heard moving around downstairs, but they weren't in her line of sight. A sudden frenzied howl suggested to Shepard that they'd found the bodies of the other two krogan.
Vakarain reached the bottom of the stairs sooner than she'd expected, and she twitched her fingers, waiting.
Vakarian leaned out of the stairwell, sniper rifle on his shoulder, and squeezed the trigger gently. The sudden frenzied cry of the vorcha almost drowned out the bellow of the krogan. Vakarian leaned out of the stairwell and called out something she couldn't hear. Whatever it was, it didn't make Garm any calmer.
There was a brief exchange of shots: the rhythmic fire of Vakarian's pistol interspered with the krogan's shotgun blasts and biotic flares. Then Vakarian ducked back inside the stairwell, Outside she could hear the noise of the vorcha growing louder and louder. ⟨⟨ Ready. ⟩⟩ Vakarian signalled.
This time when she twitched her fingers she reached out and pulled him up - hard and fast, pulling him up to the top level faster than any of the pursuing vorcha could hope to chase him. Garm himself had just reached the bottom of the stairwell when the grenades Vakarian had left behind exploded, the blast peppering the krogan and the vorcha alike with lethal steel fragments.
The noise Garm made was something between laughter and a howl. The surviving vorcha flooded up the stairwell, a tide of grey skin, bared teeth and blood red eyes. The Battlemaster was right behind them, barrier in full force, shotguns carried in both hands.
He looked up and saw Shepard and Vakarian, peering down at him from the upper levels. He bared his teeth triumphantly, eyes gleaming in the darkness.
"Nice try, turian, but there's nowhere to run now." he called up. "This is the end."
"Yes," said Vakarian slowly, as the vorchas' wild shots ricocheted around the stairwell, most flying wide and the others bouncing harmlessly off Shepard's barrier. "I think it is."
At his signal, Shepard flung up a barrier again and Vakarian flipped the detonator he'd been holding onto behind his back.
Above them, where the turian had positioned them before Shepard's arrival, all of Vakarian's remaining grenades detonated at once, and the roof above the stairwell collapsed in on itself in a ball of flame and dust. Tons of concrete, pipework and other rubble fell into the stairwell, slamming into the stairs, which buckled and then broke under the impact. The upper stairs gave way first, crashing down in turn on the stairs below them, which crumpled and collapsed in turn. The krogan and the vorcha had nowhere to run.
The screaming of the despairing vorcha was almost drowned out by the sound of panicked gunfire and the roaring curses of the krogan. Almost. But after a few minutes, the deluge of masonry and metalwork came to a halt, and the sound of the vorcha died away, replaced by the quiet crackle of flames.
The turian peered down into the wreckage of the stairwell.
"Well, it's not quite orbital bombardment," he said, "But I guess it's close enough."
The two of them stood silently on the upper floor for several minutes, looking down at the rubble. Shepard let her barrier drop, exhausted. It had been a long time since she'd had to push herself so hard. Getting soft, she told herself ruefully. Too much time knocking down targets in cargo holds, not enough time trying to really push yourself.
She almost couldn't believe they'd done it. They were alive. But Doctor Thanoptis… She didn't know what they'd do now that Shol's contact was dead. Back to the Citadel, maybe? The volus billionaire had to have other leads, other options. After a few deep breaths she looked up at the turian, and frowned at what she saw.
"Vakarian … you're bleeding."
"Huh," the turian looked down at his right arm, where a thin streak of blue blood was slowly dripping from a hole in his armoured suit. "Didn't even feel it. One of the vorcha must have got off a lucky-"
The shockwave hit him with enough force that Shepard felt it her bones.
One minute Vakarian was standing a foot away from her, peering curiously at the wound on his arm, the next he was sliding and tumbling on his back, rolling and crashing into one of the few upright walls left in the building. Pieces of debris picked up by the blast clattered and rattled about the floor around him. The whole building seemed to shake, dust and soot rising up like mist.
She turned around to Garm pulling himself out of the ruined stairwell with with bare hands, dragging himself over the corpses of his vorcha troops, face contorted with unthinking rage. As he reached the top floor, he bellowed wordlessly, lowered his head, and charged. Vakarian, dazed, had just staggered to his feet when eight hundred pounds of armoured krogan slammed into him at full speed. The turian went flying backwards, crashing back to the ground like a rag doll. He struggled to stand again, but fell back to the floor, breathing heavily, legs bent at an unnatural angle.
For an instant time seemed to stand still. Vakarian lying helpless on the floor, the dead and dying vorcha in the rubble, the krogan turning to face her - teeth bared, eyes wide and black and empty - they all seemed to be frozen, unreal. For an instant, she could feel nothing but the beating of her heart, the taste of blood in her mouth. I am my tho-
Then Garm had Shepard by the throat. She kicked out, pushing at him with her biotics, but his grip only tightened, lifting her helplessly up the ground while she fought for breath.
"The Shadow Broker's paying a whole lot of credits for you, turian", he said, ignoring Shepard's increasingly desperate struggles. "Didn't say anything about a human sidekick though. Lucky for me. Never got to kill a human before."
"Wait-" she didn't know whether it was her voice or Vakarian's that cried out. Garm ignored it either way.
"Time to fly, pyjak," he snarled, slamming her one-handed through the glass window behind her.
Shepard felt the window panes shattering around her: fragments of broken glass flying past her face, cutting her cheek and stinging her eyes. She felt the sudden shock of the cold air outside as she hung for an instant over the precipice, feet kicking useless at the empty air She felt the krogan's grip around her throat loosen, then release; saw his crooked grin widen for an instant as she fell away into the darkness. She felt the wind in her ears as the ground below rushed up to meet her.
Then nothing.