*Author's note: Just a heads up, folks, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this month. I still plan to update as normal, but if a chapter goes up late or I skip a week, please forgive me. It's because I'm frantically writing ahead at a chaotic pace that makes it hard to find time to revise, and I don't want to plague you with a crappy chapter lacking its proper polish. Just know the only reason for the delay is the sheer VOLUME of words I'm putting down, which means LOT'S MORE STILL TO COME. Thanks for your patience!

Chapter 26. Nix

Shepard scowled out the windows of Port Hanshan, watching the white swirl of snow whip and snarl across Noveria's muted, ashen landscape. The craggy mountain peaks dominating the barren, hostile terrain were nothing more than blurred smudges under the thick, angry white whorls. He could almost feel the cold seeping in through the windows, even though behind him the bustling port was a warm, living hive of wary activity.

Large slabs of monochrome granite lined the main plaza, interrupted by the occasional fountain burbling water that looked as frigid as the ice clinging to the outer window pane. Hushed exchanges between patrons faded into brooding white noise that echoed against the stone. Every interaction on Noveria was founded on a whisper or a false smile. Benezia probably felt right at home.

A few meters away Liara leaned against a post, arms wrapped around herself as if to ward off the chill from the snow blowing outside. Shepard glanced quickly away. He wanted to blame the maelstrom of thoughts swirling in his brain at the sight of her on the lingering effects of the meld, but Shiala proved that to be wishful thinking. He had carefully plucked the asari thrall's presence from his mind and packed it away, leaving it as nothing more than a fading afterimage.

But with Liara it wasn't so easy. The memory of her clung to him, still so vivid and distinct at times he could swear she was still there. The feeling was not an unwelcome one, and that's what had him on edge. They were here for Benezia. Liara was an asset. He couldn't afford to think of her as more than that.

Enemies were enemies. Thinking of them as anything more only added…complications.

As if there weren't enough to deal with already. Several ERCS guards had made themselves pointedly visible not long after their arrival, no doubt at the request of Anoleis, the priggish salarian administrator Shepard had had to resist shooting in the head just on principle. Apparently powerful biotech companies skirting the law on Noveria did not enjoy the presence of Spectres. Word about the incident in the cargo bay had apparently already spread.

No one confiscated his gun.

But they could, apparently, confiscate his tank.

The Binary Helix facility was located in the Skadi Mountains, and Anoleis himself had confirmed Benezia headed there several days ago with an escort of what were likely asari commandos. But the blizzard had grounded Noveria's transportation systems. Upon hearing Shepard's declaration that the Mako didn't give a shit about snow, Anoleis had promptly leveraged the one countermeasure the Noveria Development Corporation had against a Spectre: beurocracy. They had been sitting in Port Hanshan for nearly six hours getting paperwork taken care of that would allow them to deploy the tank.

His gaze slid once more to Liara.

You can't ask her to do this, he told himself.

No, it wasn't that he couldn't. He could. Wasn't that why they'd made him a Spectre? He was the Butcher of Torfan, had ordered nearly a hundred men to their deaths. This should have meant nothing to him. But it did. Because of her. He didn't want to ask her to hunt down her own mother.

But he had to. They needed to know what she knew, and without Liara there was little reason to think he could force her to cooperate. Nothing you say will interest her, she had told him. But she might listen to me.

Liara caught him watching her, forced a smile, then quickly turned her back and walked away, shoulders hunched. Shepard exhaled slowly, watching her go.

"C ommander."

He jumped just a little at the sound of his pilot's voice over the comm, eyes lingering just a moment before he turned away to answer. "Joker? You better have good news for me."

"Um…about that. I think you need to get to the cargo bay. Before Tali murders an inspector."

Shepard blinked. "Wait, what? Inspector?"

"Some NDC turian wearing a very official looking suit. He even has a fancy clipboard. It's adorable, really."

"What the hell is someone from the NDC doing on my ship?" Shepard demanded.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say inspecting. Seriously, Commander, you should really get over here."

Growling under his breath, Shepard made his way back to the docking bay. If Anoleis even thought about impounding his ship, Port Hanshan was going to need a new docking bay.

When he stepped off the Normandy's elevator into thecargo bay he found Garrus standing between a barely constrained Tali'Zorah and a turian, who was indeed wearing an NDC uniform and carrying a datapad. Shepard's experience reading turian expressions was for the most part limited to what he'd gleaned so far from Garrus, but smugness oozed from this one's plates. Pressly stood near them with his arms folded in front of his chest, a pained look on his face. The altercation had been hot enough that even Joker had come to watch.

"You wouldn't know good engineering if it crawled through your induction port!" Tali raged, as Garrus calmly tightened his grip on her arm.

The turian merely skimmed his datapad. "Since observation skills don't appear to be your strong point, I should inform you I don't have an induction port, as my immune system is up to the task. But if your Migrant Fleet is any indication, you shouldn't feel bad that makeshift field repair is the best you're capable of. I'm sure you measure up to the rest of your people quite well."

Tali let loose with a string of quarian expletives that thankfully didn't translate.

"What the hell is going on?" Shepard demanded. "Who are you and why are you on my ship?"

"I am Inspector Maverius," the turian said with a sigh. "I am in charge of authorizing this…vehicle for use on Noverian soil. Upon going through the maintenance records I discovered some field repairs had been made recently. Those repairs are not up to code, and must be completed using approved, dealer made parts before approval can be granted."

Tali jerked against Garrus' hold. "I'll tell you what you can do with your code, you arrogant cha'tik!"

Joker put a hand to his mouth to stifle some laughter, and Shepard shot him a murderous look. "First off. Who the hell gave you permission to come aboard my ship? It sure as hell wasn't me."

Pressly cleared his throat. "I did, sir. Thought it would help move things along a little quicker, ironically."

The turian's mandible quivered.

Shepard sighed. "Second of all. I don't know what kind of 'code' you're referring to, but considering this is Alliance machinery, the only 'code' I care about is theirs. And I have very little concern for that."

"That is your prerogative, Commander," Maverius replied smoothly. "I am sure we'll have the tram system running again in a few days. Unfortunately Aleutsk Valley blizzards can be lengthy. It is a drawback to doing business on Noveria, but one our clients have learned to endure."

Garrus leaned close to Shepard without losing his grip on the agitated quarian. "Sir," he murmured. "I am not opposed to nonchalantly finding a strategic vantage point and putting his head in my crosshairs."

It was unbearably tempting.

"What do we need to do to unload my tank and get the hell out of this port," Shepard said through gritted teeth.

Maverius went back to his datapad. "I can place a requisitions order for you. The parts should arrive in a few days, and our technicians can install if your people aren't up to it. For a nominal fee, of course."

Tali squirmed. "Why you—"

"We'll handle it," Shepard replied. "But pass something along to your administrator for me."

One mandible flicked.

A grim smile played across Shepard's lips. "Get out of my way. Look at my service record. That was before I was a Spectre. What makes you think I wouldn't kill both of you just because it was more convenient than dealing with your bullshit?"

The turian swallowed. "I will pass your message to the administrator."

"Good. Now get off my ship. Pressly, escort the inspector to the airlock, please. And if he gives you any problems, I'm sure Wrex would be happy to assist."

Maverius' eyes widened slightly, telling Shepard he had at least laid eyes on the krogan. Without further argument he departed, swiftly, leaving them alone in the cargo bay with the sound of Joker's slow clap. "Bravo, Commander. Don't think I've ever seen a turian shit his pants before. I'd say great performance, but I'm pretty sure you don't do improv."

"You should have let me lay him out," Tali seethed.

Joker grinned. "I love that our quarian has a temper."

"You know what?" Shepard said suddenly. "I'm granting shore leave. Take the night off, everyone. This place has a lounge. Use it."

"Please tell me a planet swimming in corporate espionage has hookers," Joker replied, lazing heavily on his crutches with a dreamy look on his face.

Shepard glared at him. "Within reason, Flight Lieutenant."

Joker rolled his eyes. "Relax, Commander. The heart is willing, but I highly doubt my Alliance medical coverage will be inclined to cover the bills when - what I'm sure would be a very classy asari call girl - shatters my pelvis."

Shepard sighed. "Blow off some steam tonight, everyone. Because I'm not kidding. Tomorrow morning we're leaving this port."

Ashley didn't think it was possible to find a place more pretentious and uncomfortable than the Port Hanshan plaza, but the hotel dispelled her assumptions quite nicely. Its high, vaulted ceilings were designed to make everyone feel small, the cold marble floors reflecting sound so brazenly most everyone whispered. The tables in the area were deliberately spaced to discourage eavesdropping, though that didn't stop anyone from trying.

She'd been greeted with more than a few horrified looks when she'd walked into the bar with Wrex. That the people here were offended or disgusted by the krogan rather than nervous about him told her all she needed to know. On Noveria money solved all inconveniences. No reason to be afraid of a krogan when you could just turn around and pay another one to make sure he didn't start any shit. At least Wrex seemed just as offended by all of them as they did of him.

"Ok," Ashley said, scooting her empty glass around on the table they'd claimed. Any nearby patrons had cleared out not long after they'd sat down. The privacy was nice, but it meant she had to work extra hard to flag down the bartender for a refill. "Asari commandos. What's the best defense against their biotics?"

"Keep moving," Wrex remarked. His chair creaked. Ashley was amazed it even held him.

"Right. I'm a heavy soldier who goes into combat strapped with at least four different guns, but stop drop and roll like a skinny assed gymnast should be no problem."

The krogan shrugged. "It isn't for me."

"You're a battle tank with barriers," Ashley informed him. "If someone pegs you with a warp field you just laugh and blow their face off with a shotgun."

His lips curled back in a smile. "Stick with your other human," he suggested. "Let him handle the commandos. They'll be more interested in countering his attacks than worrying about yours."

"What, you mean Alenko?"

Wrex nodded. "He should be useful for something."

She chuckled, clinking the ice cubes and looking pointedly towards the bar. She knew the turian bartender saw her, the tight-assed bastard. His mandibles were clenched so tight against his jaw his teeth probably hurt. "Lay off. He's plenty useful."

"If you say so."

Ashley made one last futile attempt to flag down a waiter, resigning herself to the fact she was going to have to visit the bar if she wanted another whiskey and whatever liquid Noveria claimed was cola.

Wrex gave her a long, scrutinizing look, then heaved to his feet. "You need something stronger than that human piss," he informed her, ambling towards the bar. She blew a puff of air, making yet another futile attempt to move a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. Not for the first time she considered shaving her head, but for all her indifference to her overall appearance, she was forced to admit her long hair was something she was rather proud of.

"Hey," a voice said.

Speak of the devil.

"Join us, LT," she said, gesturing to a seat. "Wrex and I were discussing asari commandos."

He tilted his head. "Impressive, aren't they?" he said, not, she noticed, taking a seat. "From Liara's notes they aren't very heavily armored, but they're supposed to be wicked fast."

Ashley scoffed. "Unless they can outrun bullets, I'm more inclined to stick with nice, solid armor and a big gun. Or several big guns."

"Point," he conceded.

She looked from him to the chair. "What, you too good to drink with a krogan and a noncom, lieutenant?"

He only looked slightly offended. "Actually, Joker, Adams, Pressly and I are going to try and teach Garrus and Tali how to play poker. Want in?"

Ashley swallowed a grimace. Another night in front of the cargo bay lockers wasn't something she was eager to repeat. "No thanks. Besides, you'd just steal all the credits I was planning to drink with." She forced a smile.

A wounded look crossed his face. "You sure? Joker has it out for me. I'd feel better if you were on my six."

"Don't worry," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "I've got you from here. I'm good with a sniper rifle, remember?"

His gaze lingered on her for a moment. Then he nodded. "Sure, no problem. But if you want to join in, you're more than welcome to."

"Thanks," she replied, shifting in her seat.

Wrex headed back to the table, holding two shot glasses (well, one was a shot glass, the other probably did double duty as a soup bowl) filled with a reddish brown fluid that looked like liquid rust. Kaidan watched him, eyebrow raised. "You know, if you need backup, just yell."

She laughed. "Go steal their lunch money, Kaidan."

He grinned and headed over to another table, where Joker, Tali and Adams were now seated. Garrus and Pressly chatted idly at the bar. At this rate Ashley figured the NDC would gladly expedite the release of the Mako, if for no other reason than to kick their asses the hell out.

Wrex watched Kaidan retreat with a wary scowl.

"Why do you hate Alenko so much?" she asked, taking the shot glass he offered.

"Shepard's krant should be warriors," the surly krogan replied. "He's better off with the turian at his side."

"He'd save your ass same as he'd save mine," she argued, gaze drifting briefly to the LT's table. "He's a good guy."

"That's the problem," Wrex said, in a belittling tone that sounded remarkably like her father had when he tried to teach her the ways of the world. The krogan turned his head slightly, fixing Ashley with his left eye. "The universe takes 'good' guys, chews them up and spits them out," he said. "There's no place for that on the battle field. He's not ready for what lies ahead."

Ashley scowled at the glass in front of her, unsure why the comment put her in such a foul mood.

"So what is this, exactly?" she asked, indicating the drink. It smelled even more toxic than it looked.

"Ryncol," Wrex said. "Hits aliens like ground glass."

"That sounds delightful."

"You can handle it."

The vote of confidence inspired an odd flush of pride. "No chaser?"

"Chaser?"

"Never mind." She held her breath, closed her eyes and tossed the drink back. It burned the back of her throat like she'd scorched it with acid. Trying not to choke she slammed the empty glass back on the table. "Oh, God. I think I can smell colors."

Wrex grinned. "I'll get you another."

Garrus was quickly discovering that poker wasn't that much different than turian strategy games, only instead of interactive game boards it used thin pieces of cardboard with specially colored symbols and numbers. Strategy he was good at. But keeping the symbols straight (four codes with only two colors seemed needlessly complicated) was a whole other story.

The liquor didn't help either. Noveria had a dextro selection that rivaled the Citadel's, and Garrus was taking full advantage of it. Even Tali was risking a few toxin filters to partake.

Liquor or no, Alenko only needed two turns to demand Garrus put his visor on the table so he'd quit using it to scan everyone's hands.

"What?" Garrus complained, reluctantly removing the headpiece and setting it down. "I'm learning."

"Not on my credits you're not," Pressly declared.

Alenko proceeded to bluff the navigator out of thirty credits. Or at least that's how it was explained to Garrus.

"I don't understand what just happened," Tali said. "Can someone explain what just happened?"

"See, here's the problem," Joker said, manipulating the deck of cards with hand motions that Garrus didn't understand but needed to learn. "Part of me wants to tell you to back off and let someone else win, for once. But the other part of me knows that if you do, it's a hollow victory. So I'm trying to decide what's more valuable to me, credits or dignity."

"He's leaning towards credits," Pressly said.

"No really," Tali insisted. "How does bluffing work? I'd like to try it."

Joker tilted his head to the side. "You know what, considering no one can see your face you'd actually probably be really good at it. As soon as you learn to tell a Queen from a King, anyway. And by the way, Garrus? You look really weird without that visor."

Garrus wasn't going to admit it to Joker, but he felt weird without it. He usually only took it off to sleep and bathe.

Adams whistled suddenly. Garrus looked up to see Dr. Chakwas exit the elevator from the plaza, wearing a long, flowy vestment that most definitely wasn't military regs. From the intrigued expressions of everyone at the table Garrus surmised it was a pleasant transformation.

"Damn," Joker said, dealing out the next hand. "The doc can sure wear a dress."

Adams stood up from the table, straightening his uniform. "Excuse me, everyone. Deal me out. Karin and I are having dinner."

"Adams," Joker said with a sly grin. "Something you want to tell the class?"

The engineer gave him a withering look. "I'm not even dignifying that with a response."

"Good, then I can let my imagination run wild. And believe me, it is."

Pressly rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to hide a smile. There was a lot about human interaction that still just sailed right over Garrus' head. He glanced over at Tali, who carefully studied the cards Joker dealt her in between sips from a straw that hooked in to her suit. Joker had likened it to a "beer helmet," something Garrus made a mental note to look up later.

He looked down at the numbers and symbols in his own hand and idly stroked his mandible with the tip of a talon. "Someone explain to me again the difference between a club and a…spade?"

"Clubs have three rounded points," Alenko said.

"I thought that was the spade," Tali said.

"Why isn't it just a club?" Garrus complained. "Wouldn't that be easier? Or why these symbols at all? Why not something more recognizable, like guns and omnitools?"

Alenko placed a bet. "The game predates omnitools, Garrus."

Pressly snorted. "It might even predate guns."

Garrus grumbled.

"Maybe we should start Garrus with something a little simpler," Joker suggested. "Like Go Fish."

Tali took a pull from her straw. "I'm not sure what fish have to do with cards."

"Never mind."

Alenko rubbed his chin then idly scanned the room, eyes lingering for a moment on Wrex's table. "Hey, anyone seen Shepard?" he asked. "Or Liara?"

Pressly tapped the table with his fingers, eyes glued to his hand. "Dr. T'Soni checked back in on the Normandy before I came ashore. The commander was in the plaza a while ago."

"If he's looking for a few quick credits, that hanar shopkeeper down there asked me to smuggle for it," Joker piped up.

Pressly rolled his eyes. "It did not."

"Did too. Cross my heart. I turned him down because of my unwavering integrity."

Cross my heart, Garrus thought. What the hell did that one mean?

"More likely your inability to discreetly escort a package around Port Hanshan," Pressly replied, reaching out to waggle one of Joker's crutches.

"Low blow, old man."

"Maybe I should go look for Liara," Tali suggested. "I don't understand this game, anyway."

"I don't think she wanted company," Pressly said.

Tali's shoulders sank. "Well, what about Shepard, then? Maybe he needs help with mission prep?"

Joker sighed happily. "I'm almost hoping Anoleis tries to hold us up in the morning, just to see Shepard make good on his threat."

To be honest, Garrus kind of was too. He looked back at his hand and squinted at one with a heart on it. "Ok. So someone explain the funny looking human whose name appears to be Jack." He paused. "You know what? Never mind. Tali, want some company?" She stood, wobbled ever so slightly, then made a sweeping gesture with her hand. "I would be honored, Mr. Vakarian."

With a flourish Garrus bowed and extended his arm to Tali. "Shall we? There's a fellow friendly turian sitting over that way. Maybe he has some useful information we can pass along to the commander."

She took his arm as graciously as she could, managing to catch a toe briefly on a chair leg in the process.

"I won't tell anyone you're actually leaning on me for support," he said in a low voice as they made their way back to the hotel elevator.

"You're a gentleman, Garrus Vakarian."

"My pleasure, Ms. Zorah."