A/N: I am SO sorry it took me so long to post this. I started back at University last week, so it's been a little hectic around here. But, here we are, a little revenge Ahyoka Shepard style. Can I just say that her and Archangel make one badass team?
Trigger warning: mentions and descriptions of non-con in this chapter.
Disclaimer: Bioware owns the characters. I just manipulate them as my mind sees fit.
Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?
A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.
Excerpts from What the Thunder Says, T.S. Eliot
XII: Faces in the Violet Light
The entire team had assembled in the comm room as Shepard crossed the threshold, Garrus following closely behind her. Her tension was palpable, but restrained, and as she took her customary position at the head of the table, Garrus stood behind her, solid and steady.
Briefly, in the privacy of her quarters, they had roughed out a plan. Shepard was an infiltrator by nature, relying on stealth and a good sniping position. They would, however, require more than just subversion. From what knowledge she gleaned from Garrus, there would be significant resistance in many forms from any number of Harga's men, including the possibility of slaves. The thought made Shepard's gut twist unpleasantly; a soft voice in the back of her mind had inquired how she would react if any of the slaves they encountered had been from Mindoir. She immediately dismissed the notion, instead busying herself with checking gaskets on her armor. But now, in the presence of the team she had worked so hard to build, she felt hope and pride blooming in her chest.
"I feel as if this is becoming all too familiar," Shepard quipped, surveying the individuals before her. "However, our shore leave was interrupted, and that's just rude."
Several of the crew laughed. Even Joker smiled, though he was still resonating just enough malice to keep the diameter of his personal bubble intact.
"Several of you here are familiar with Omega and it's lovely reputation," Shepard continued, eying Zaeed and Mordin. "We're at a slight disadvantage...but when has that ever stopped us?" She turned towards Garrus, who stepped up next to her, a rueful look on his face. "Chances are, we're going to be shooting a lot of mercs. And make a lot of things explode." From the back of the room, Jack whooped. "Each of you as an individual is strong, but this is a chance for us to work as a cohesive unit, but a slight deviation from our current mission. The batarian we're after goes by the name Karn Harga. In the event that one of you gets to him before I do, please do not kill him unless absolutely necessary. Archangel and I would like to have a little chat with him." She looked up at Garrus and smiled, eyes glittering. Zaeed let out a quiet wolf whistle.
"That being said, we need a plan. Or maybe several…considering our recent luck. Jack, if I allow you access to the armory, can I trust that you will use explosives only to blow up Harga's minions, and nothing else?"
The tattooed woman flashed a vicious grin. "I'll blow up whatever the fuck you want me to, Shep. Just point me at 'em."
Shepard nodded, fighting back a smile. "Zaeed, I believe your knowledge of explosives and Omega's structures will be a good compliment to Jack's exuberance. Once we figure out where Harga is hiding, I'll be relying on you two for a distraction. Proximity mines, contact explosive, anything to draw them out into the open where Archangel, Thane and I can take them out from sniper positions.
"I'm going to need to make a visit to Aria, to let the queen bitch know what we're up to. I doubt she's going to enjoy us blowing up areas of her station, but leave that to me."
She turned to Miranda, who was wearing a look of utter annoyance. The Cerberus operative had attempted to pull Shepard aside after their return from Lito's interrogation on Illium, arguing that she should not be distracting herself from the real mission at hand. Shepard didn't necessarily enjoy pulling the "I'm commanding officer" card, but with Miranda, it was often necessary.
"XO Lawson, I'm giving you a choice," Shepard said, crossing her arms and straightening her back slightly. Alpha posture. "You can remain here with the ship, and monitor the team's progress. Otherwise, you can go with Joker, who will be borrowing a sky car from one of the transit stations."
"I'm sorry, Commander," Joker said, leaning forward. "I don't think I heard you correctly. You want me to steal a sky car?"
"I didn't say steal," Shepard replied, raising a finger at the pilot. "Borrow. We'll be returning it, after you're done with it."
Joker snorted and shook his head. "And just what am I supposed to do with a stolen sky car?"
"You're going to be making sure Harga doesn't have a secondary escape route of any sort. The Normandy is a little too large to patrol the docks, but a sky car should do the trick and look inconspicuous. If Aria proves to be generous, I'll have schematics of the entire station that I'll forward to everyone. You and Lawson can monitor traffic chatter and make sure any ship or shuttle belonging to Harga stays on this rock."
The pilot paled slightly beneath his hat, but nodded.
"I'll make sure he does his job correctly, Commander," Miranda said, eying the pilot with suspicion.
"Thank you, Lawson. Tali, Kasumi, I'm going to need your hacking skills. If we can infiltrate their base without tripping any alarms, it gives Jack and Zaeed a better element of surprise."
The thief had been hovering quietly behind Jacob, eyes hidden in the shadow of her cowl. The lower half of her face was still visible, lips spreading in a happy grin. Shepard would have preferred to have Kasumi by her side, but the little woman was something of a tech genius. Garrus had warned of certain security measures he and his crew had encountered during their vigilante work; between Kasumi and Tali, anything mechanical and hackable didn't stand a chance.
"Shepard and I are going to talk to Aria," Garrus said, and Shepard's stomach fluttered with pride at the hint of command in his voice. "Jacob, I'd like you, Mordin, Grunt and Samara to be our assault team. Once Zaeed and Jack set off their explosives, Harga's crew will be forced out of whatever hiding place they're in, and right into our line of fire. Hopefully we can take down enough of them to get to Harga himself. Zaeed, Jack, if you could blow a hole through their headquarters, and possibly trap Harga, that would be best."
Grunt slammed his meaty fists together in excitement. "Finally. I get to kill something. Even better that it's batarians."
"Most likely vorcha as well," Mordin supplied. "Regenerative properties, not as strong as krogan, but still problematic. Will prepare accordingly." He turned to Shepard. "The item you requested is ready in my lab. I will meet you there."
"Thank you, Mordin," she replied. "The rest of you, go suit up and be ready to go in thirty minutes. That includes you, Joker. No hiding. No excuses. Take us in and dock, but I'm going to have EDI seal the airlock as soon as we're all off the ship."
"The Normandy will be safe in my…hands," EDI's said, projecting her voice throughout the room. "Regardless of how figurative they may be."
The pilot made a rude noise, but nodded, albeit grudgingly. The crew filed out with a buzz of excitement, leaving Garrus and Shepard behind.
"Did you get a new toy from Mordin?" he asked, crossing his arms and staring down at her, a hint of humor in his eyes.
"Something like that. Come see."
The pair made their way to the salarian's corner of the tech lab. Mordin was humming quietly to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Ah yes. Shepard, Vakarian." Mordin cleared his throat excitedly. Shepard could practically feel the excitement buzzing through him. "As promised." From a locker next to his lab table, he procured a rifle - a perfect copy of Shepard's Widow. Beautiful and dark, it glinted under the lab lights.
"I had Mordin develop one for you," she said, looking up at Garrus through her lashes. The turian was utterly still, mouth open slightly as he drank in the sight of the rifle. "I also had him put a thermal scope on it, like mine. We match!"
"Appropriate gift," Mordin said as Garrus lifted the gun from the table, extending the stock and muzzle with a push of a button. "The recoil may take some…adjustment. Significant kickback, incredibly powerful. Turian physiology resilient; muscle density and bone strength suitable for full-power settings."
Garrus tore his eyes away from the gun to stare at Shepard.
"You got me a rifle," he croaked.
"Oh, you know what they say," Shepard replied casually, laying a hand on his arm. "The way to a turian's heart is through large, powerful guns."
He compressed the gun back to its reduced size, clicking it into place on his back in one swift movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mordin slink away with a smile on his face. He's learning, she thought in relief.
Garrus caught the back of her head in his gloved hand, and bent to bring her forehead to his.
"Now I have to find something to one-up this," he said, voice husky. "It's all part of your plan, isn't it?"
Shepard smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "I have to find some way to keep you around."
He snorted and straightened up, running a hand down her braid and catching the end to rub between his fingers.
"I'm sure there will be plenty of targets for me to test my new gun out on."
"Just because you have a fancy new rifle doesn't mean you're going to beat me on the head count, Vakarian."
"Keep dreaming, Shepard."
Afterlife was the expected swirling mass of dancing bodies, drunken patrons and Aria's various bodyguards. Grizz, per the usual, seemed rather excited to see Shepard.
"Commander, good to have you back," he said with a nod and a flick of his large mandibles. A hint of suggestion dripped through is subvocals, and next to Shepard, Garrus hastily turned his bark of laughter into a cough.
"Hello, Grizz," Shepard replied with a polite nod. "Is Aria available?"
The self-titled queen of Omega had a definite flair for the dramatic, choosing to station herself several levels above the main floor of Afterlife. Bray, her right hand batarian, nodded them up the stairs. Aria was lounging on a large couch, looking utterly bored.
"Shepard," she purred, eying the commander with a raised brow. "Ah, and you've brought Archangel with you."
The threat was subtle, but Shepard refused to rise to it. Next to her, she felt Garrus stiffen slightly. A parlay with Aria was something Shepard found to be tedious, if not exhausting. The asari had always warily respected the commander, however. And their working relationship had proven fruitful.
"I trust that you are smart enough to realize the merc issues has long since been resolved, with limited damage to your station, Aria."
The asari appraised her, eyes flicking back and forth between the commander and Garrus. With a jerk of her head, she invited them to sit.
"Word on the street is you're having a batarian problem."
Shepard had long since stopped wondering how Aria had so much information. The asari had eyes and ears everywhere, it seemed. She settled lightly on the couch, Garrus sitting next to her, their knees touching. He allowed himself to visibly relax, knotting his hands behind his fringe.
"Several months ago, Archangel killed a batarian slaver named Kron Harga. His brother, Karn, is apparently upset, and ordered an assassination attempt while we were on Illium."
"And this is my concern, why?" Aria drawled, leaning back against the couch.
"I'm sure you know Harga uses Omega as a sort of vacation retreat between slaver missions," Shepard said with malice. "I came here to let you know I will find him, and I will kill him. Normally, I would ask your permission, since you consider Omega your territory. I understand that much. However, a crime was committed in Council space, and as a Spectre, it is my job to track the individual and bring him to justice."
"Omega is not Council space," Aria said defiantly, lips curving into a small smile.
Shepard sighed, leaning forward, and Garrus rested a hand on the small of her back. There was a tiny but astute headache building behind her forehead, and it had nothing to do with the club music and light show.
"Honestly, Aria? At this point, I could give a fuck less if Omega was geth space. Harga is a slaver. Working for the same people who came to Mindoir when I was sixteen, and abducted or killed everyone in my colony. The same people who beat and raped innocent women and children. Do you really want someone like that taking up space on your precious station?" Shepard leaned back, crossing her legs, pressing Garrus' hand into the back of the couch. His warmth was the only thing keeping her from launching across and strangling Aria until her eyes bled. The asari was purposely exploiting her anger as a source of entertainment.
"I suppose this is the part where I am suppose to gasp in horror and take pity on your cause?" Aria's voice was sarcastic, but her eyes glinted with amusement.
"No," Shepard said, lowering her voice. "This is the part where I tell you that I will need schematics of the entire station, and any information you or your crew has regarding Harga's location. My crew and I will be allowed to move freely anywhere on the station, and do whatever necessary to take Harga and his associates out. I'm not here to play games, T'Loak. If I wasn't feeling so generous, I could probably take this back to the Council. Kindly explain to them that the leader of Omega is obstructing justice, impeding the mission of a Spectre. I may not be the asari councilor's favorite human, but I wouldn't hesitate to bet you are not Councilor Tevos' favorite person, either. Our working relationship has been fairly fruitful for both of us, so far. I recall Grizz telling me several times, I tend to 'get shit done'."
It was Aria's turn to lean back, contemplating. Every encounter Shepard had with the asari was always a pissing match of sorts. Briefly, she wondered who or what had twisted Aria's trust to the point of abrasive paranoia. There had been no Plan B – if Aria refused, Shepard would have to follow through on her threat after taking Harga out, which was something she would like to avoid, especially because talking to Tevos was akin to banging her head repeatedly against a hard surface. Idiotic, painful, and pointless.
"Bray will provide you with the schematics. As much as I despise the thought of letting you get your way, I also don't approve of a known slaver dirtying my station. I'm sure Grizz could point you in the right direction; he is somewhat of a gossip." Aria made a dismissing motion with her hand. "You have free reign, but try not to blow up anything important. Keep that convict biotic of yours on a tight leash."
Shepard inwardly sighed and rose from the couch, pulling Garrus up with her.
"I'm glad we can continue working with each other, Aria," Shepard said cooly.
"Always a pleasure, Shepard," she drawled, leaning back against the couch and eying them suspiciously. "Oh, and by the way? When I gave you that little hint of advice about finding a nice man to keep you warm at night? I didn't think you would listen." Aria's eyes locked onto Garrus' armored figure. "Color me impressed."
With her back to the asari, Shepard rolled her eyes, accepting a download of schematics from Bray's omnitool onto her own. As they made their way down the stairs, Shepard could feel Garrus' amusement, and turned to give him a hard look.
"Love advice from Aria T'Loak?" he quipped. "Now I know you've made it in the galaxy."
"Can it, Vakarian," she shot back, eyeing up Grizz at the foot of the stairs. Aria's pale-plated turian lackey rocked back on his heels a bit in obvious amusement, cradling his assault rifle against his chest.
"Meeting went well, Commander?" Grizz asked, voice husky.
"Aria said you would know information regarding the whereabouts of Karn Harga," Shepard said. The loud music made it difficult for her voice to carry. Much to her dismay, she found herself leaning closer to Grizz to make herself heard. He certainly was not covering up his enjoyment of her proximity, letting his mandibles flare wide as he inhaled her scent.
"Karn Harga…" he tapped a finger against his mouth in contemplation. "Usually can find him sulking around the Kenzo district. Heard he's got himself a cozy warehouse converted into a headquarters. Really nice 'digs', you know what I mean?"
Shepard felt Garrus go still next to her. Grizz' eyes flicked warily to him and back to Shepard.
"Thank you," Shepard replied, reaching back to find Garrus' armored forearm, grasping it lightly. "I appreciate the help."
"Anything for you, Commander," Grizz said, tilting his head in amusement. "Hope to see you again real soon."
Shepard smiled tightly and pulled Garrus across the club and out through the doors into welcomed quiet. She spun him to face her, eyebrows raised.
"Kenzo district?" she asked. Garrus leaned his head back and sighed.
"Where Garm's supposed gun smuggling operation was, according to Sidonis," he supplied simply, eyes on the ceiling of Afterlife's entrance tunnel.
Shepard sucked in a sharp breath and tugged him closer to her, armor cracking against armor.
"So we blow the place up. We do have Jack, after all."
He looked down at her and smiled.
"Aria isn't going to like that."
"Aria can bite me," Shepard replied, baring teeth. Garrus chuckled and nudged his forehead against hers.
"That's my job."
Her laughter echoed behind them as they made their way out into the bowels of Omega.
The Kenzo district sprawled across an expanse of run down apartments, warehouses and dive bars. Omega's murky atmosphere lent an ominous feel to their mission as Shepard watched her team separate; Zaeed and Jack to an alleyway, Jacob's crew flanking the warehouse, and Shepard, Thane and Garrus on the roof of a storage building across from Harga's. The duo had donned their helmets, Garrus' Archangel blue armor scratched and burnt. Zaeed had dug up a few tear gas grenades, and Shepard knew enough to not risk wearing a breather in the vicinity of that blast.
Harga's warehouse was large, easily several hundred feet wide and across. Shepard had sent schematics to the entire team; the slaver had set up several "rooms" within the building, including what could only be described as holding pens. The thought made Shepard's skin crawl, and she inwardly cursed Aria for letting a blatant slave operation flourish on Omega. Garrus had laid a hand lightly on her shoulder, warm and reassuring through her armor. Now, she was crouched behind a ventilation shaft that was blowing hot air from out of the warehouse, thumbing the button of her tactical cloak.
"Security cams are down outside," came Kasumi's voice over their comm channel. The thief was in charge of disabling any security "issues" that arose. She had already encountered several encrypted doors, as well as a rudimentary laser system along the perimeter of the building, which she had laughingly flipped and ducked her way through to the control panel, shutting it down with ease.
"These bleedin' air shafts are givin' me back cramps," Zaeed huffed. He and Jack were entering from the very back of the warehouse, laying detonation charges as they went.
"Assault team is in position with a clear view of the choke point," Jacob said, sounding resolute. He and his team were positioned just inside the warehouse below Shepard, Thane and Garrus, waiting to force their way in. To her right, the drell was kneeling on the edge of the roof, the picture of calm. The muzzle of his sniper glinted ominously in the dim light. There was about two hundred feet between their warehouse and Harga's, with little to no cover for the assault team. The snipers would be providing protection as Jack and Zaeed's fireworks show pushed the slavers out of the building.
"Jack," Shepard asked softly, "how goes it?"
The biotic opened her comm channel and chuckled. "This place is going to be more lit than a goddamn Fourth of July party."
"Darn, and I forgot to bring the beer and brats," Shepard quipped back, tilting her head up to look at Garrus. The Independence Day reference was lost on the turian, and he shook his helmeted head in indignation.
"Eh, we're jus' gate crashin' anyway," Zaeed said. "Awf'ly fuckin' rude of 'em not to invite us in the firs' place."
"I agree, Missoni. Shall we teach them a lesson?" Shepard's voice was light, but she reached behind to unclip her Widow from her back, grip tight on the stock.
"With pleasure, Shep," Jack growled. Beside the commander, Garrus was extending his new toy, running a hand lovingly along the muzzle. The image of his hand running along black metal lit her nerves on fire, desire pooling low in her belly. She shook her head to focus, and he knelt beside Shepard, on her right, always on her right. She could feel him coiling tightly with excitement, and flipped the safety of her gun off.
"Light 'em up, Jack."
A resounding explosion answered, shaking their building.
"Assault team be ready," Shepard said, surveying the front of the warehouse through her thermal scope. Another explosion rocked the street below, and the unmistakable greens and yellows of smoke flickered across her crosshairs.
"Tha's right, ya fucks!" Zaeed yelled over the comm channel. Jack's manic laughing peppered the background as she detonated another charge.
"They're having entirely too much fun," Garrus mused.
"I'm quite jealous," Shepard shot back playfully. A humanoid figure emerged from the warehouse door in a blur of orange and red light on her scope. "Oh look! They've come out to play."
Her finger pressed the trigger with ease, and the target's head exploded in a shower of gore. More slavers were pouring out the door now, limited by the size of the opening.
"Assault team, go!" Shepard yelled, taking out another target.
Jacob and his company poured out of the neighboring building, guns blazing. Their armor held biological markers, making them appear white on her scope to avoid target confusion. The crack of Thane's rifle claimed another victim, and Shepard saw the unmistakable chuff of biotic energy that was Samara, throwing several slavers back against the wall. Garrus was laughing between each shot, clearly enjoying his new toy. Harga's men were pouring out of the building now, only to be mowed down by the assault team and snipers. Grunt was roaring a battle challenge, spraying shotgun fire and physically plowing over anyone that got in his way.
"Shep, you better get in here." Jack's voice sounded wary. "We made a mess, but there's…there's slaves. In cages."
Shepard's stomach dropped to her feet.
"There's still too many out front," she growled in reply, reveling in the sight of her team decimating the slavers.
"I'll make you a hole."
"What does she mean, 'make you a hole'?" Garrus asked, humming along to a song playing in his earpiece.
In answer, another explosion rocked through the warehouse, this time blowing a hole in the roof. Shepard stood swiftly, compressing her rifle and hooking it to her back.
"Jack, get up here and lift me over the gap."
"Aye aye, cap'n!"
"Thane, keep covering the assault team. Archangel, you're with me."
Garrus pressed off another shot, whooped in celebration, then stood and placed his rifle in its place over his shoulder. "Right behind you."
Across from the building they stood on, smoke still poured from the tear in the roof, and Jack's lanky figured emerged, sprinting headlong to the edge.
"You're going to need to get a running start and jump," Jack said over their comm. "I'll lift you across."
Garrus made a slightly strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Shepard peered over her shoulder at him. The polarized face of his mask left his features invisible, but his body language hummed of tension. Shepard tabbed their private channel.
"I've always wanted to learn how to fly," she said softly, lacing her voice with affection and reassurance.
"If Jack drops me, I'll remove her tattoos the hard way." His voice sounded light, but his subvocals cracked with apprehension.
"You're Archangel. You shouldn't be afraid of flying." She teetered at the edge of the roof, eyeing the span of empty space and a twenty foot drop. Then, steeling herself, she backed up several steps and rolled her shoulders. "Ready, Jack?"
"Come at me, bro!" she yelled, body swirling with blue biotic energy.
Shepard took a deep, steadying breath, and sprinted to the edge of the roof, launching herself across the gap with as much strength as she could muster. Cerberus cybernetics lent an extra amount of force to her jump, and she managed to cross at least forty feet. A cloud of biotic energy caught her her at the apex of her leap, hurling her weightlessly the rest of the way. She landed gracefully next to Jack, panting slightly from adrenaline and utter joy.
"Thanks," Shepard said, and clapped Jack on the back. "Make sure you don't drop him. I need him happy and conscious for this mission, and I have a feeling crashing him twenty feet down on his head would maybe piss him off?"
Jack snorted. "Ya ready, Archangel?"
"As I'll ever be," came his gruff reply. With graceful, ground-eating strides, he loped to the edge of the roof and jumped, clearing twice the distance Shepard had before Jack's biotics lashed out to pull him the rest of the way across. His feet hit the warehouse roof hard, and he tipped forward, crashing into Shepard. She gripped his forearms and steadied him.
"I've come to the conclusion that I don't like flying," Garrus quipped, leaning to butt his helmeted forehead against Shepard's playfully. She giggled at the public display of affection, slapping him on an armored shoulder.
"It wasn't that bad," she retorted, striding to the smoking hole Jack had torn. Several metal shipping crates were stacked in stunted towers, and Shepard dropped down onto one, surveying the room. It had obviously been used for storage, more crates and boxes piled haphazardly against the walls. She leaped to the floor, followed closely by Garrus and Jack.
"The holding rooms are through that door," Jack pointed, voice heavy. She lead the way through a door that had clearly been blown open, into a lengthy hallway lined with barred gates. Shepard approached the nearest, peering into the gloom. Huddled together in a mass of soiled flesh were at least twenty humans, bodies bare. The room had a low ceiling, preventing any of them from standing up fully, leaving them to squat or lay in their own filth. Their heads had been shorn down to the scalp, and each wore a collar of metal. Bile rose in the back of Shepard's throat, and she was silently thankful for her helmet's breather. Wary eyes rheumy with exhaustion and defeat stared up at her, but they didn't dare speak. The constraints on their necks were electrified, like a dog's shock collar. Garrus' presence was a solid reassurance behind her, and she leaned forward, studying the barred door.
"Can you get them out of here?" she asked Jack, turning to stare at the biotic. Jack's face was ghostly white and her skin was pulled tight in a grimace, fists clenched at her sides and crackles of energy eddying around her form.
"I can try pulling the bars off their hinges," she answered tightly, running a hand over her own bare scalp. Jack had been a member of a cult at one point in her life, but upon leaving had retained the shorn haircut. Something akin to shame flashed in her eyes. "But the gates are encrypted, and I have no idea where the control room is."
"Do what you can. See if you can get Kasumi in here to decrypt it. Also, get Zaeed in here and have him escort these people out through the side door. I'm going to find Harga."
Jack nodded sharply. "The hallway leads to a break room of sorts. Through there are several offices and bunks. We came in through the 'employee lounge', where they were playing cards. Blew a hole right through the floor."
Shepard hurried down the hall, ignoring the tight feeling of her spine as she passed dozens of holding pens. Garrus was on her heels, assault rifle out and cradled against his chest. Through another doorway to a room filled with tables, a cyro unit, and cabinets. Chairs were strewn everywhere, along with remnants of food. Several dead bodies littered the floor, and a hole gaped open near the back of the room.
"Joker," Shepard called over her comm.
"Oh hey, Commander," came the pilots voice in answer. "I'm just hangin' out, taking the scenic way around. Docking stations look clear; no sign of a batarian ship. Manifest says Harga's boat set sail two days ago for another 'shipment', and he's here overseeing the sale of his 'merchandise'. There's no way he's escaping the station."
"Good. Get over here. I'm going to need Chakwas, so pick her up on your way. Tell her to bring as much water and blankets as she can manage."
The open comm channel hummed for a minute before Joker answered, more quietly this time. "Aye, aye, Commander."
"Now," she said, turning to look at Garrus. "Where would Harga be?"
Garrus tapped a ponderous finger against the side of his helmet. "All the way at the back of the building, most likely. Big 'office', probably surrounded by a few bed slaves."
"Jacob, sitrep?"
"Pretty much clear out here, Commander," he replied, voice sounding winded but exuberant. "Just mopping up what's left. A few surrendered, so we have them shackled and waiting."
"Good. Send Grunt and Samara around back. I need a team to flank the building in case Harga decides to escape out the back door."
"Got it."
Shepard and Garrus pushed forward, stepping around the hole to duck through another blasted door into a bunkroom.
"Biosigns indicate there are some stragglers through the next door," Garrus whispered, gesturing with his rifle. "Five hostiles."
"Cover me," Shepard replied, thumbing her tactical cloak, her form shimmering into invisibility. She crept forward, peering around the doorframe into what looked like another storage room. Several slavers were huddled behind crates, waiting to ambush whoever came through. Silently, Shepard made her way down the middle of the room, walking past the unsuspecting men to the opposite door. Somewhere at the aft of the building, another explosion went off, startling the cowering batarians. She unclipped a gas grenade, pulled the pin and sent it underhand into the middle of the room. It landed with a metallic bounce and promptly exploded, filling the area with a thick orange mist. Several shouts echoed off the walls as the men scrambled to the doorways, only to be met by the butt of Garrus' rifle.
"Holy fuck! It's Archangel!" one of them yelled, before being sent flying back by a concussive shot. Shepard had pulled out her pistol, and screwed the silencer onto the end. Garrus sent the men clambering back towards her, and she picked them off from the cover of her tactical cloak. Three were dead by the time he had sauntered to her side of the room, and two were screaming in pain and rubbing viciously at their eyes, courtesy of the tear gas. Shepard shimmered into view and pistol-whipped the closest slaver across the face.
"Where the fuck is Harga?" she growled, kneeling to grasp the batarian by the front of his armor. A gash had opened across his wide forehead, gushing orange-red blood. Four eyes blinked furiously, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"He – he's got a safe room," the slaver gasped, clawing at the hand that held him in place. Shepard pistol-whipped him again, harder.
"Where is it?"
The batarian was barely clinging to consciousness, and she shook him.
"All the way…back. Back of the building. 'Sgot two-foot thick walls. Uses it as a place to keep his money. He ran in there when the place started exploding."
Shepard peered up at Garrus, who had his foot on the neck of the other conscious batarian. He nodded and tabbed his comm. "Kasumi."
"Here," she replied lightly.
"Did you manage to get those gates open?"
The thief chuckled grimly. "Yes. Zaeed and Jack are escorting the packages out through a side…hole."
"We need you up here with us. Harga's got himself a nice little panic room, and we unfortunately won't be able to blast our way through it."
"Be there in just a sec!"
Shepard turned back to the batarian she was questioning. "I'm going to let you live, since you were so generous at providing us with information. But know this: I will make sure you rot in prison for what you've done here. And if for some reason you escape? I will find you, and flay you alive with a dull blade."
Whether from his head wound or fear, the batarian promptly lost consciousness, and Shepard threw him to the floor in disgust. "Cuff him."
Garrus procured a pair of shackles, and secured the two remaining slavers, shoving them up against a wall where their heads lolled onto each others shoulders. Kasumi came jogging lightly into the room, smiling through her clear breather.
"You two are so dangerous together," she quipped, studying the three dead bodies sprawled across the floor. "Now, where's this unbreakable room?"
The trio stepped through the doorway to yet another hall, which ended in a triple-encrypted door. Kasumi muttered to herself as she worked to decode it.
"This isn't batarian work," she said, typing on her omnitool as the door lock pulsed red. "This is some serious tech. Nothing I can't handle, of course, but someone paid the big bucks for salarian security algorithms."
"Slaving is a profitable business," Shepard said darkly, running a thumb along the handle of an extremely impressive knife tucked into her belt. The commander was almost vibrating with controlled violence, and he laid a hand on the small of her back, applying pressure so she could feel it through her armor.
"Got it," Kasumi said, stepping back as the door pulsed yellow then green. "I don't have schematics for this room, Shep."
The commander shook her head and smiled behind her polarized facemask. "Going in blind. What's new? Archangel, with me. Kasumi, cloak and cover us. If there are any slaves in here, pull them out as quickly as you can. I don't want them to be caught in cross fire."
The thief nodded once and disappeared beneath her tactical cloak.
Shepard drew her pistol from its place on her hip, and slid an incendiary heat sink into place.
"You ready, Archangel?"
"As I'll ever be, Ahyoka," he answered, and palmed the door open before ducking back behind the frame for cover.
Almost immediately, shots rang out in staccato as the duo hugged the doorframe tightly. Garrus unhooked a flashbang from the mag strip on his arm and threw it into the room, turning his face against the flare.
"Go!" he yelled, and dove into the room, Shepard at his side. Harga's chamber was twenty feet by twenty feet square, a huge safe encompassing the entire back wall. In front of it was a massive desk, which had been tipped on its side to provide cover. Harga cowered behind it, four eyes blinking furiously as he tried to adjust against the flashbang assault. He had a human female in front of him, draped in a thin gold dress, her blonde hair in a ratted nest. One hand was clenched around her throat, above the metal collar. The other had a pistol pressed against her temple.
"Drop her," Garrus' voice grated. Anger was flaring up into his chest, driving adrenaline into his bloodstream.
"The fuck I will!" Harga shouted back, spitting in their general direction. "I paid good money for this bitch, an' for this warehouse. Those slaves are my property."
"You don't own shit, Harga. Drop the girl, and the gun, and you'll walk out of here alive."
"Oh fuck you, Archangel. You're supposed to be dead. Paid good money to make sure of that, too."
"I guess that proves you can't buy everything," Garrus growled, stepping further into the room.
"I'll get the girl," Kasumi whispered over their helmet comms, and Shepard felt the thief slip past her, invisible. "Keep him talking."
"An' who the fuck are you?" Harga asked, nodding at Shepard. "All buttoned up in that fancy armor, but I can still see you've got tits under that."
"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" Shepard asked lightly, hand clutching her pistol. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
The batarian growled and pressed the muzzle of his gun harder against the girl's temple, eliciting the faintest of whimpers from her.
"You won' be sayin' that with my dick in your mouth. Bet you got some pretty lips, girlie. Take off your helmet so I can take a peek."
Shepard saw the shimmer that was Kasumi sidle up next to Harga, and the woman grabbed the slaver's pistol and jerked his arm back hard, unbalancing him. The pistol discharged, bullet lodging harmlessly in the ceiling as the slave girl shrieked and threw herself towards the door.
"Kasumi!" Shepard yelled, shoving the blonde girl behind her. The thief wrestled the pistol away from Harga, who was having difficulty fighting an invisible target, struggling to free his hands. Kasumi whipped him across the face with his own gun, and he grunted, clutching his face in pain. Garrus grabbed the slave girl and tucked her against the wall behind him.
"Stay there. Don't move." She nodded furiously, eyes wide in terror. Garrus moved forward, unlatching his helmet and throwing it to the side so he had an unhindered view. Kasumi had uncloaked and was stepping away from Harga, pistol pointed at his face. The batarian roared in fury and pain and vaulted over the upturned desk towards Shepard.
Garrus hadn't noticed his commander slip her knife from its place on her belt. With inhuman speed, blade flashing, she lept towards the slaver. Harga faltered at the sight of the weapon, hesitating just enough to let Shepard swing and slam the handle of the knife across his face, knocking him to the side. He bent over, clutching at his head, and Shepard crouched and rammed the blade up into Harga's chest. His kinetic shields flickered and died, and the spear slipped in between a soft chink in his armor. He grunted at the impact, clutching helplessly at the shaft imbedded in his stomach. But Shepard wasn't done yet. She shoved harder, forcing him back and impaling him to the wooden top of his upturned desk.
"Kasumi," Shepard growled not taking her eyes off of her target. "Get the girl out of here. Take her out to Jacob's team. Chakwas should be there."
"No," came a quiet voice from the door. The battered slave rose unsteadily to her feet and walked towards Shepard. "I want to watch him die."
Shepard eyed the girl through her facemask. The blonde girl was shaking with fear, but her eyes had lost the terror, and instead burned with rage. Kasumi was hovering next to her, and nodded once. Shepard unlatched her helmet and removed it, letting her braid fall heavily over her shoulder, and handed it to Garrus.
"You fuckin' bitch," Harga gasped, hands still straining to pull the spear from his abdomen. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you all."
Shepard stepped forward and crouched down close to Harga's face. Her eyes were pools of molten silver against the black of her war paint, and she pulled her teeth back in a vicious smile.
"I want to thank you, Harga, for letting me test out my new toy," she crooned, almost lovingly. "Some may think that knives are impractical in these modern times, but I like to think that anything can be adjusted to suit your needs. This here? The shaft is a titanium alloy. Incredibly light, but incredibly durable. The blade? You may have guessed by now that it's polonium. Yeah, that's probably why you're feeling a little…tingly. You see, I know quite a bit about batarian anatomy." She reached out and ran a hand down the side of Harga's face. "In my time slaughtering your people, I've learned that your heart is on the right side of your body, opposite a human. So, naturally, I avoided that, and opted instead for the space between your lungs. I think I was lucky and missed the brachial artery, but we'll know soon enough. I bet your hardsuit is dispensing medigel as we speak, trying to stop the bleeding. Essentially, it's keeping you alive long enough for me to have a little chat with you." She stood and pulled a switchblade from a pocket in her armor, flicking it open. Harga raised his head, panting, four eyes wide.
"I know you," he gasped.
"Yes, I'm sure you do. You may know me as the Butcher of Torfan, or as Commander Shepard, Hero of the Citadel. You also know my mate, who was responsible for the death of your brother. Archangel?"
Garrus handed Shepard's helmet to Kasumi, and sauntered over to stand next to the commander.
"Lizard-fucker," Harga spat, straining against the spear. Garrus chuckled lightly and laid a hand on Shepard's shoulder.
"That's no way to treat a lady, Harga." His tone was dark, rasping out through his teeth in dual tones that spoke of death and revenge. The hatred he'd felt when he killed Kron Harga was fresh in his mind at the sight of the slaver's brother. "In fact, that's what I told your brother as I killed him. I walked in on him raping several of his bed slaves. By the time my crew was finished with his, it was just him left. He thought he could fight me, but I introduced him to the butt of my rifle." He bared his teeth in a malicious smile. "I believe it broke several bones in his face. The entire time he was still screaming about the nasty things he would do to my mother, so I strapped him up against a crate, and using this handy pistol here." He thumbed a gun resting on his hip with a loving caress. "I shot him. In both arms, and both legs. He was still alive, of course, so I made sure he felt it. I saved the shot to his heart for last. Funny thing about batarians; your lungs are different from a turians or a humans. You can function with just one. So after I had shot both of his, and he was suffocating in his own blood, I switched over to incendiary ammo, and shot him in the heart." Garrus knelt and leaned close to the batarian's face, eyes glinting with malevolence. Harga shrank back at the sight of the scarred turian's teeth so close to him. "Did I mention the crate I strapped him to was filled with a flammable chemical? That incendiary ammo was very helpful in lighting his funeral pyre." He stood and nipped Shepard lightly on the neck, a display of possession and acceptance. Her revenge was his revenge.
Harga's eyes were clouding, and he tried to spit in their general direction. Shepard slapped him backhanded across the face.
"You said you know me," she growled, and moved to unclasp Harga's lower body armor. "Do you remember me from Mindoir?"
The batarian stilled his struggling and narrowed all four eyes at her.
"Mindoir?"
"Yes, Mindoir." The malice in Shepard's voice was heavy, and a chill ran down Garrus' spine. "Funny thing. I dug a little. Did a little research into just who you are, Harga. Sixteen years ago, you came to my colony and burned it to the ground. I was there. I was the only one that survived. I killed one of your men with a handmade bow and arrow." She threw his hip guards and codpiece across the room, revealing a black undersuit.
"Ah, yes," Harga growled. "I should have recognized the paint. That must 'ave been your mother, eh?" He gave a watery chuckle. "I always had a thing for the dark-skinned humans. Bruises never showed up as easily, so we could do whatever we liked with 'em before they were sold." He grinned, licking his lips. "Yeah. I remember your mother. Or rather, I remember her slick cunt wrapped around my dick."
Shepard lashed out, knife in hand, and backhanded him across the face again, this time opening a gash from cheek to cheek. Harga grunted in pain and reeled his head back.
"Oh, didn't like that, did ya?" he asked maliciously, wound bleeding freely into his mouth. "Your mother seemed to like it when I decided to add my rifle into the mix. Make her scream real good. Sure tore up her cunt with the muzzle, though. It's a damn shame she bled out as I fucked her. I always liked them lively."
Behind them, Kasumi gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Garrus let out a rolling growl, and the slave girl, silent until now, took a step back, whimpering. Shepard remained motionless, never letting her eyes leave Harga's. Garrus felt the subtle shift in her demeanor; there was no stopping her now. Bloodlust had overtaken her, the need for revenge driving every movement. She was precise, determined and deadly, tension and anger rolling off her in waves. He half expected her to end the slaver right then and there, but Shepard tilted her head to the side, pulling her lips back from her teeth in a macabre smile. Garrus let out a soft rumble of encouragement. This revenge was necessary. This revenge was cathartic and sixteen years old, left to fester and corrode whatever semblance of happiness Shepard had.
"You sure like to talk about your dick a lot," she said, pulling off her gloves with her teeth and handing them to Garrus. Her knife glinted in the light of the safe room. "I'm starting to think you have an unhealthy obsession with it." She deftly slid the blade along the exposed part of his undersuit, tearing the material and exposing skin. "The only way to break an obsession is to part ways with the object."
With an expert flick, Shepard separated Harga's prized possession from his body, and the batarian screamed. The commander stood and wiped her knife along one of Harga's gloves, cleaning the blade of orange-red blood. The batarian continued to scream, clutching at the knife still embedded in his chest, eyes rolling in the back of his head.
"I wish I could kill you a million times over, Karn Harga," Shepard said quietly, watching the slaver bleed out onto the floor of his panic room. "But let's just say that was for my mother, and my people."
She turned to face her teammates, flicking the switchblade closed and stashing it.
"Let's get out of here. I want to blow this place sky-high."
Garrus handed her gloves back to her, and nudged his forehead gently against hers. She smiled back at him, tucking a hand between his scarred jaw and mandible, reveling in the feeling of blistering hot flesh. The pride he felt bubbling up in his chest threatened to consume him. She pulled her gloves onto her hands using her teeth, and as an afterthought, jerked her knife out of Harga's now lifeless body, thumbing the button to collapse it. He tumbled to the floor in a pool of coagulating blood, and Shepard sneered down at him. She felt a figure pad up beside her, and turned to see the slave girl, barefoot, clutching her tattered dress to keep it from being bloodied. She gazed at the supine form of Harga, and promptly spit on his body.
"You have made him pay for his sins," she said in a quiet but lovely voice. "I am thankful."
Kasumi padded to the girl's side and laid a hand lightly on her arm. "We have a doctor, and food and water for you."
The girl nodded, and followed Kasumi out of the panic room.
Shepard took one last look at Harga, face grim.
"It feels right, what I did," she said to Garrus.
"You did what was necessary," he replied. "Remind me to never, ever piss you off. That's a big ass knife."
She slapped him on the chest, rising up on her tiptoes to nip at his neck.
"Let this be a lesson to you then."
His hearty chuckle warmed her chest, and she allowed herself to feel the first tendrils of exultation spread through her body.
Joker was overseeing the distribution of water bottles to the rescued slaves alongside Miranda, as a line formed in front of Chakwas and Mordin. The doctors were running omnitool scans over each rescuee, checking vitals and skin lesions, handing out medigel when necessary. Samara and Jacob were gently removing collars and chucking them through the front door of the warehouse. Shepard and Garrus stepped out from the side of the building to Jack and Zaheed unpacking a massive amount of explosives, each whistling some jaunty song.
"You to get along so well when pyrotechnics are involved," Shepard quipped, pulling a can of contact explosive from Jack's bag.
"I was jus' tellin' the lady 'bout the time I blew up some idiot politician's mansion," Zaeed replied, twisting together a remote detonator. "Guess he fucked someone's wife or somethin', and the angry bastard wanted him dead in a very dramatic fashion. We packed the basemen' of that place fuller'n a whore's mouth. Had to detonate it from a mile away. Real big 'boom'." The mercenary chuckled and gave Shepard and Garrus a lopsided smile.
"We don't need quite that caliber of a pyrotechnic show," the commander replied, handing the can of contact spray to Jack.
"Oh, we've got this place filled enough to level it," the biotic woman said, pulling the cap off and stepping up to the wall. "We can even watch it go boom without binoculars."
She took the contact explosive and began spraying it in a deliberate fashion, large loops and flourishes across the metal side of the building. Shepard cocked her head and watched Jack work, doubling over in laughter as she finished. A large, prominent "FUCK YOU" was written in surprisingly neat cursive like explosive graffiti. Shepard raised her omnitool and took a picture of it.
"I'm saving this forever, Jack," she said, giving the biotic a wide smile. Next to her, Garrus was shaking his head and chuckling. "You're the best."
"Aw don't get all sappy and shit on me, Shep," the woman replied, wiping her hands on her thighs. "Now let's wipe this fuckin' place off the map."
Shepard and Garrus lead the two pyromaniacs to the front of the warehouse where the rest of the team was assisting with the rescued slaves. At the sight of Shepard and Garrus, several people cheered.
"We need to get back about a block," she called to the crowd, gesturing behind her. "Our local fireworks crew has quite the show planned for you!"
The hoard of people - 57 slaves in all - along with the Normandy crew, threaded their way along an alley, ducking behind the neighboring building. Several chose to climb ladders to the roof along with Shepard, Garrus, Kasumi, Jack and Zaeed.
"Stay down," the commander said, and nodded towards Zaeed. The mercenary flipped the cap of the detonator open and cracked the biggest smile Shepard had seen on his face yet.
"Fire in tha hole!"
The resulting explosion shook the street and surrounding buildings, a mushroom cloud of flames and choking smoke rising into Omega's murky atmosphere. True to their word, several large, blooming fireworks shot up from the smoldering ruin, bursting in vibrant shades of reds and purples. There were resounding whoops and trills of happiness from the crowd below. Shepard shouted along with them, and felt herself bubbling with pure happiness.
"Aria is going to be pissed," Jack said, smirking, her teeth flashing in the flames from the burning warehouse.
"Aria can go fuck herself," Shepard replied, laughing.