Shepard

We arrive at the Zakara Ward C-SEC station with Captain Bailey as our escort. He helped with getting my identity back before, so I pray to God he's not already tired of my ass.

Thane and Garrus follow me in the building, labeled as key witnesses to the incident. We wait for what seems like hours in the populated corridor. I spot Bailey as he comes out of a back room, in a heated discussion with a turian officer. When the other guy storms away, I approach Bailey.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," I start. "But I thought we were gonna answer a few questions, then go."

"No, nothing you'd need to worry about. That guy your son was after," he points at Thane, "was making life hell around here. Real pain in the ass. Some of the old guard doesn't trust Spectres getting involved in legal affairs," his eyes shift back to me, "but the way I see it the less paperwork we have to fill out to get rid of an asshole like that, the better. Some don't see it my way."

I glance at Thane uneasily. He cocks his head at me in reassurance. "So what happens to Kolyat?" I ask.

"Where to even start," Bailey sighs. "Right now it looks messy. As a Spectre, and given the evidence against Talid, you were not technically acting outside of regulations. You say the word 'classified,' and we wouldn't be able to touch you. That must sound familiar," he says, giving Garrus a pointed look.

Garrus makes a sharp clacking sound and folds his arms.

"As for the kid," Bailey continues. "I walked in on a scene where you pulled the trigger, but my gut tells me that kid stashed the gun somewhere. Whatever magic you pulled off there baffled the hell out of my men. Either way, forensics with your gun don't match with those dead krogan. That points to the kid any way you look at it."

Good looking out, Kasumi.

"Ok," I say slowly. "It sounds like you want to press charges. Against some kid you don't have evidence against. Is there no other option? We went there to try to stop him."

"And you did it by killing the very target he was after," the officer grouses. "No, pressing charges wouldn't do a damn thing anyway. Y'see, Kolyat dropped a real familiar name around here." He scratches the back of his neck. "Elias Kelham ordered the hit. He's the same person who's been 'donating' to the Officer's Ball for the past three years."

Of fucking course.

"So you've been taking bribes from this asshole. And since Talid is dead anyway, I'm sure he's feeling pretty damn grateful." I lean on the captain's desk. "Look, I don't care what that scumbag is to you but he stays away from Kolyat, alright? Can he go in and talk to him yet?" I gesture to Thane.

"Yeah. He's right in that interrogation room."

Thane nods, and leaves without another word. Garrus tenses as I watch him go, and for the life of me I still can't understand why. I give him a questioning look, but he's in full stick up his ass mode. He draws his mandibles tight against his face, an expression I only see when he's really pissed.

"There was a rash of bad people going off the grid about ten years back, Shepard," Bailey's voice snaps me back to attention. "A drell was a prime suspect. We don't get too many here on the Citadel. We never caught him." He gives me a carefully neutral look. "Your friend seems like a natural handling that gun."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "Bad people from ten years ago? C'mon, that's hardly priority."

"Maybe not to you, but it would put us back in the black for the first time in five years. It's not like I can wave a magic Spectre wand and make it all go away."

I smirk. "Listen Bailey, the only drell I know are the dying father on a very important mission with me, and the son he's trying to save from himself. We need to work something out for the kid. Community service, maybe. Or an informant."

And just like that I see the gears turn in his head. He leans back in his chair and gives me an easy smile. "I think we can come up with something. Now, is there anything else you need from me? I got a feeling they're gonna be in there for a while," he nods to the interrogation room.

"As a matter of fact, there is one other thing." I flick my head back to Garrus. Still pissy-looking, but he steps forwarding, seemingly willing to talk.

"I want to get some information on Fade. Ever heard of him?" he asks.

"You mean the other biggest pain in my ass?" Bailey mutters, and I wonder how he sits with so many of them. "That slippery son of a bitch has been a menace, and stopping him's been pointless. He makes criminals disappear and I don't know how he does it. He's either found a way to bypass our networks or he's working from the inside." He pauses for a second and looks at us thoughtfully. "But… if you were willing to do something about it, we might get in the black after all. You're outside of C-SEC, maybe you can nail his ass."

"Do you have anything at all on him?" Garrus presses, voice straining.

Bailey types on his console. "We were able to track down some reps that work over in the storage yards across from Blamps Lamps. You can question them. Maybe with a little less shooting."

I grin and cock a brow. "Just for you, I'll give it my best shot."

Garrus

"So. Which one of you wants to disappear?"

The volus in front of us stands flanked by two krogan mercenaries. Already a telling sign of corruption. Typically, volus only work with turians since they're our clients. We give them protection, they give us financial backing. The arrangement benefited both sides for centuries, but I always find a couple that work outside the norm. It never goes well for them.

At no more than a meter tall, this guy has to look up at me, at Shepard, and well, everyone in the room. That these types have the guts to go rogue almost makes me admire them.

Almost.

"Quite the opposite, I'm afraid," I respond, drawing up my full height. "I need someone to reappear."

"Ah… that's not the service we provide."

"Don't be coy," I snarl. I pull out a pistol and aim it at the volus. I probably won't shoot him, but he doesn't know that. Suit ruptures are visceral, but these guys are even nastier business. Quarians get infected. Volus suits are hyper-pressurized; one bullet, and there's a mess no one deserves to witness.

"Damn it. Quick… shoot them! Shoot them, you lumbering mountains!"

Shepard draws her own pistol, and quicker than clockwork the lumbering mountains are mounds on the floor.

"Too slow, buddy." Shepard holsters her gun and crouches to her knee in one fluid motion. "In the interest of not pissing off the nice people with guns, why don't you spare us the song and dance?" She flashes a menacing smile.

"Wait! I'm not Fade!" He holds up his arms in mercy.

She turns back and gives me a lopsided smile, then stands back up. Yeah, yeah Shepard. Of course Fade would send a contact instead of showing up himself.

He begins to pace. "Harkin's in the Factory District. He works out of an abandoned prefab foundry with Blue Suns. He pays them a lot of money; says they keep him safe."

I grumble inwardly. This entire galaxy loves throwing these hired guns my way. First Sidonis sold us out to them, then they ruin my face, and now they're standing between me and that washed up alcoholic.

"Safe." I let out a harsh laugh. "We'll see just how safe that bastard is by the time I'm done with him."

"Harkin. You mean that pisspot excuse of a man is Fade? The only thing he seemed good at was wasting good booze and pissing me off," Shepard spits. "Since when did he get competent?"

The volus seems happy to answer, though I doubt she was really asking for an explanation. "He was fired from C-SEC, but he used his knowledge of the systems to help a few people disappear. Then he made himself disappear. And Fade was born."

I roll my eyes. "It doesn't matter. He's still the only one who knows how to get to Sidonis. I've got a good idea of the area. We can get there in fifteen."

"What a fucking day, and to top it with seeing that degenerate piece of shit. If ever there's a guy that needs a kick in the throat." Shepard heads toward the transports, then looks back at the volus. "Hey. You're about to be unemployed if you gave us good intel, or dead if you gave us bad. Figure your shit out and get out of here." She looks at me, brown eyes somber. "You ready, Garrus?"

"Right behind you."

Factories are no more fun to fight through than hospitals, but take what's given. I line up shots in a steady tempo, hearing the beats from guns firing, armor breaking, bodies dropping. Battle's always been a steady pulse, as familiar as a heartbeat. And like the heart, when it all stops… what else is there? I think back to that damn bridge, how that rhythm never stopped until I nearly died.

Maybe I should have.

What made my life so much more important than any of theirs? I line up another shot, watching as Shepard slams another merc to the ground. In truth she shouldn't exist either. And by the way she's fighting, maybe she knows that. Two displaced people, tying up loose ends before throwing ourselves to the galaxy.

I shake off the thought. Right now I'm here for Harkin. Anything else I'll deal with later.

Shepard peers through an office window and signals me. I head in towards the other side as she goes in the first entrance. I keep out of sight and wait for the scuffling to get closer. Closer…

I pivot and swing the butt of my rifle upward. Harkin stumbles backward, face covered in blood from the nose down. I slam him against the wall. He breathes in heavy ragged gulps, and all I can smell on him is alcohol and cigarettes. This pathetic excuse. I hated C-SEC and did something about it. This one. This man was already dirty before. But now…

"Fade, huh? Long time no see."

He struggles against my arm, face warped into an ugly, bloody grimace. "C'mon, Garrus," he chokes out. "I thought we were buddies. We can work this out, right?"

"Buddies? Sure, Harkin. Let's get nice and friendly." I press harder. "I need to find someone you made disappear." I take the pressure off him and step back, hand on my pistol.

"Sounds like we each have something the other one wants, then," Harkin sneers, nursing his neck.

My knee greets his stomach, one of those universal weak spots. He doubles over on the floor, groaning like he's been shot. He should know I can easily do a lot worse.

Shepard clicks her tongue. "Harkin, apparently I gotta play the good cop in this. Instead of whining on the floor like a piece of shit, why don't you stop being coy and tell us what we want to know?"

He spits blood off to the side, and slowly raises himself to his feet. "Maybe," he says, wiping the side of his mouth. "But I still haven't heard what you want. I'm gonna need a little more information."

"Lantar Sidonis," I growl, the name feeling like ash in my mouth. "Turian male, about a few–"

"I know who he is, and you're not learning a damn thing from me. Leaks like that are bad for business." The ex-cop leans against the wall and folds his arms, thoroughly convinced he has a say in the matter. Just as Shepard opens her mouth, I take matters into my own hand.

I reach for his shoulder, and deftly throw him to the ground. I press my foot against his neck, just enough to pin him. "How's this for business? How does a broken neck sound?" I press a little harder.

"Gah! Alright, alright. Get off me!"

I don't lighten my hold just yet. I want this bastard to feel it, really feel it for helping the man who betrayed me. I feel Shepard grab my arm, and when I turn she's glaring at me. As if no more than a few hours ago her boot wasn't pressed against someone's neck.

I let up and snatch my arm from her, barely missing the look of shock on her face.

Harkin sits up, rubbing his neck and stares up at me. "Terminus really changed you, huh Garrus?"

It was never really the Terminus that changed me, was it? Not really, at least not the important things. "I'm still me," I say out loud. "Now arrange a meeting."

He gets up and goes to a console. I barely hear the conversation, rage drowning out any other sound. I'll finally be able to end this, and put them to rest. It could have been so much sooner if this bastard Harkin didn't interfere. He's just as much a coward. It's only fair…

I don't notice my hand until I feel the weight of my pistol. Harkin ends the call and comes back towards me, relaying information that sounds more and more like white noise. Orbital Lounge, public place, lots of foot traffic. I'll figure something out. It doesn't matter.

"So if our business is done," Harkin says, inching towards the door.

Something primal erupts from me. "I don't think so," I snap. "There was never any love lost between us, but you're a criminal now, Harkin."

I raise the pistol to his knee, another human weak point I learned. The scream drowns out everything, my thoughts, the white noise. I holster the gun and shrug my shoulder at Shepard. "It'll give C-SEC a blood trail."

She gapes and me, then shrugs and heads toward Harkin. "Quit your screaming," she hisses as she extracts data from his omni-tool. "For all the times you hit on me, I'd have done worse."

She rises and beckons toward the door, pointedly not looking at me. "Let's move."

Shepard

When I first agreed to this, I thought it was another Saleon thing. Some asshole slipped through the cracks, and Garrus needed help. It was easy to justify back then, when someone's growing parts inside of people. But damn me for looking at the Shadow Broker files. And even then I couldn't see Garrus as the butcher portrayed in the dossier. Until now.

Archangel was definitely a different guy from the Garrus Vakarian I remember. And Archangel is the one stepping in the car with me, the one who shot Harkin, and the one who's about to kill an old teammate. On one hand, I don't blame him. Finding out one of his own betrayed him? And it's not like I want this guy, whoever he is, to walk away unpunished. But does Garrus really have to pull the trigger? To live with that on his hands?

The drive is silent. Nothing to talk about, nothing I can say to convince him, especially if I don't know what outcome I want. If I stop him I'm a hypocrite, and if I let him go through with it, he's a criminal.

Decisions, decisions.

We land the car far from the meeting point. His plan consists of using one of the vantage points Thane pointed out earlier, and sniping him from a distance. I'll act as bait, keeping Sidonis talking long enough to get him into scope. One of the worst-laid plans yet, but one that keeps Garrus out of sight. We part ways and I head towards the meeting point.

Orbital Lounge was a kitschy human-style diner designed to have a retro-future feel. It's a favorite among humans and other sentients curious about human culture. When humans were invited to the Citadel, there was a huge resurgence in science fiction culture, and we rereleased classic movies and entertainment. This place was established around the same time as a tongue-in-cheek admittance of our ignorance.

It's also a good place for a burger, but I didn't have the stomach for that right now.

Sidonis was rightfully paranoid for picking this place. There's a crowd as usual; between the chatterfrom customers and the wait staff yelling across countertops, conversations among patrons are oddly private. I bet in his mind, if we were quick we wouldn't draw attention to ourselves, and we can get out of here with no drama.

It's about ten minutes before I see a turian matching the description comes up. Silvery-grey carapace, similar to Garrus, but with lavender colony markings along each mandible. And even if I didn't have daily practice reading turian expressions, the guy in front of me looks fucking terrified.

When he glances my way, I wave him down. Here goes. I double-check that the private comm is turned on, and meet the turian halfway.

"Let's get this over with," he says, eyes darting around the area. He smells cloying from dextro booze even from here.

"Move to the left, you're in my shot," Garrus says from the comm.

And it would be so easy, wouldn't it? For a second, Liara's indifferent face on Azure flashes through my mind.

No. There's got to at least be something more to this.

"Sidonis," I say, folding my arms. "Let's hope you don't make me regret this."

"Don't ever say that name out loud!" He looks around in a panic. "I thought I hired professionals."

"Sorry, but that's not what this is. I'm a friend of Garrus," I say plainly, looking at the petrified man square in the eyes. "He wants you dead, but seeing you, I'm not so sure." Hell, I'm not even sure if I'm doing the right thing here.

"What the fu… Is this some kind of joke to you?" The turian frantically looks up along the railings, likely for sniper nests from the way he peers upward.

Guess he really did work with him.

"Dammit, Shepard!" Garrus mutters over the comm. "What the hell are you doing!? If he moves, I'm taking the shot!"

"Y-you're not kidding," Sidonis says, staring at me hard. "Shit, you're not kidding. Screw this. Tell Garrus I had my own problems." He backs away, ready to bolt.

I grab his arm. "Don't move," I hiss. "I'm the only fucking thing between you and a bullet to the brain right now. That's not making anyone here happy."

"Fuck," he sighs. He chances one last glance over my shoulder before staying directly in front of me. "Look. I didn't want to. They didn't give me a choice."

"Everyone has a choice," Garrus growls. "Even cowards like him."

"They got to me," Sidonis continues. "Said they'd kill me if I didn't help, that they'd make it worse for the rest. What was I supposed to do?"

"He knew what he was signing on for. Every damn one of them knew the risks. Move out of my way, Shepard."

I take in a deep breath. They both have a point. "That's it?" I ask. "Sounds like you were just trying to save yourself."

His head hangs low. "I know. I know what I did. They're dead anyway. They died and… and it's my fault." He looks back at me, mandibles trembling. "I've had to live with that. I wake up every night sick to my stomach. Their faces…haunting me. Accusing me."

"Better that than seeing them bleed out on your watch." Garrus spits. "Why don't you ask him what those faces looked like when I found them? Ask him if he knows they tortured them. Let me take the shot."

Christ, Garrus.

"I'm already a dead man," the turian says quietly. "Some days… I keep running, but I just want it to be over. Tell him… Tell Garrus I'm sorry." He walks out of my cover and leans against a rail, wincing at a bullet that I think he wants to come.

A better me would plead for him, for both of them. In all honesty if the same thing happened in the Alliance, he'd be court martialed at best, likely even executed. And from the way he's flinched up, waiting for it, seems like the Hierarchy has that in common. And he's in pain. He's in pain and wants to die.

But the baser part of me is livid. Only now he's ready to die, when he could have died for his crew instead. Sacrificing self for the greater good is as turian as it comes. As Alliance as it comes. And he failed.

"I can't help you Sidonis," I hear myself say. "I wish I could. But maybe I can help him."

I draw my pistol. Before he sees what's coming, I hear the tiny, imperceptible buzz from the trigger. An instant later, I feel the kickback. He stumbles back, blue blood running down between his eyes.

He falls.

"It's done, Vakarian. Report back to the ship. I've got a mess to clean up."