Chapter XVIII - The Heist (Part 2)
"Captain Reed did what?" Caryll says, abruptly trying to lift himself and get out of the hospital bed, only to halt instantly after letting out a grunt of pain. The injuries he suffered on Anhur still ache, even though it is already evident that he'll fully recover, "He kicked you out for standing up to Karium?"
"I did almost kill her," I say as I help him lay back down on the mattress, "as much as I disagree, I can't really blame him.". He lets out a sigh, "I suppose. Is this goodbye, then?"
"Hopefully not," I tell him, "but I definitely won't be with the team on Tuchanka."
"Neither will I," he says, "and you have no clue how much it pisses me off. If they end up fighting side by side with some krogans without me, I'm killing all of them and then myself."
His words leave me perplexed, "What makes them think you're not gonna recover in time for the mission?". He looks at me and chuckles, "Mission's two days from now, mate. There's no way I'm ever going to be back in shape that quickly."
"Our last assignment was three days ago," I say, confused, "Why are they deploying the team so early?". Caryll sighs. "Alright, look," he says, making gestures at me to come closer before starting to whisper, "Fairly certain I'm not supposed to tell you, but this mission's something big. They've tasked us with infiltrating and sabotaging a Reaper stronghold so that they can't send reinforcements against the main force."
"And what will the 'main force' be doing?"
"Curing the genophage, if all goes well."
As I try to lift the duffle bag containing my gear, I almost can't resist the temptation of hoisting it with my biotics. Walking around the Citadel while carrying something biotically would entail heaps of funny looks, however, and attention isn't something one wants while carrying military-grade equipment in a civilian area. It's fairly early in the morning, at least, and most people should either be asleep or having breakfast; either way, too occupied to mind someone else's business.
Ironically, just as I finish that thought, my doorbell rings. I frantically start scouring the back of my mind for any information that could help me deduce who my unexpected guest is. I usually wouldn't be so paranoid about it, but the twenty kilos of combat equipment and my recent decision to participate in an illegal heist might be making me a tad nervous. Elia and Kara are still asleep in the other room, so it can't be either of them. The only ones on my former team who know my home address are Jonas and Taria, the latter of which I'm supposed to meet in another place, which leaves my puzzle with just one possible solution.
If I knew I'd be so wrong at guessing, I'd have hidden the duffle bag. Jonas wouldn't have questioned it if I asked him not to. But Jonas isn't the one at my door; instead, a white face with red markings, belonging to a snarly, unbearable turian: Karium. She moves her mandibles as if to speak, but isn't fast enough to do so before I shut the door in her face.
Numerous questions arise, "does she honestly think I'll have her at my place?", "Should I try to use kindness this time to get her to leave me alone?", "would the war effort really feel her loss if I were to biotically yank her around?". But most importantly, "why the hell is she here?". This particular one seems to be the most appropriate to ask from the other side of the closed door. "I have a feeling you won't believe me if I tell you I'm here to apologize."
"Good guess," I say, engaging the lock system on the already closed door, "Now, why are you here really?". Karium lets out a grumble loud enough for me to hear, "I'm being honest, Ezail. I want to apologize for what happened."
"Because Corthias told you to, didn't he," I say. "Actually, he specifically told me not to when I brought forth this subject. But here I am," she says, in a tone of voice so calm that I almost can't recognize her as the person who verbally assaulted me on the ship. For some unknown reason, I'm inclined to believe her. If there was someone to ask me why I'm not sure I could give them an answer: Karium's not one I can picture disobeying an order from her CO. And yet...
Against what even I would've expected, I open the door. When I do, we both stare at each other and share a few awkward moments of silence. "How'd you find this address?" I ask her. As she opens her mouth, I interrupt her, "Actually, if it involves that quarian creep, I don't want to know.".
"Well, in that case...". The taciturnity between us resumes and lasts another couple of seconds. "Yeah, I'm not inviting you in, if that's what you're wondering," I tell her.
"Worth a shot," she says, crossing her arms. "Look, I..."
"I'm sorry for trying to kill you, Karium," I interrupt her. The look on her face is so full of astonishment that you could swear she just saw a guy kill a Reaper with his bare fists, and yet it's not even close to how bewildered I am; the words just slipped out, as if it wasn't even me saying them.
"Well, I... I'm happy you said that, Ezail," she says, still wearing a surprised expression on her face.
"Right. You're sorry too, all is sort-of forgiven, and we can both go our merry ways," I say coldly.
"No, wait," she stops me, "I need to say this, Ezail. When we fought, at one point, you asked me if I was trying to piss you off on purpose. Looking back, I think I was.". With her words comes a sort of realization. She was. She was trying to piss me off. How her behavior the first time we met and the one when we thought didn't match at all, how she recoiled when I asked her if angering me was her aim... how she mentioned Matol... how did she know about Matol? And why would she ever bring it up so casually? "There's one thing I can't wrap my head around, though... what exactly happened on Matol?". Her voice resonates in my head as if she just repeated it. That's what she said when we fought. She didn't get lucky with that weak spot: she was aiming for it; she knew it was there, and she knew it would hurt me.
After that realization, I almost regret forgiving her and apologizing immediately. It's not what she did that angers me: it's the reason why. And that is what her to explain now. But she doesn't, "I don't know why I did it. I only realized that I was doing it on purpose much later.".
"Forget about it," I say, "Let bygones be bygones."
"Thanks. It means a lot.". She falls quiet for a few instants, before trying to change the subject as if to make small talk, "So, what's in the bag."
"Weapons and armor; I'm off to the range," I say instinctively, "I think it's about time you left, Karium. I'm glad we sort of forgave each other, but we're still far from being friends. Sorry if I sound rude, but ours wasn't exactly a fight over the last donut at breakfast."
"You can say that again," she replies with guilt in her eyes, "I gave you a damn panic attack."
"And I almost killed you," I tell her, "I'd say we're even."
She chuckles softly and nods, "Yeah... sorry for bothering you," she says as she starts walking away.
"Don't be," I stop her, "I don't know if I'd have had the guts to come to your house and apologize. I respect that."
She smiles slightly and nods, before disappearing in the concoction of hallways that is the Citadel. I'd better get going too, I think, grabbing the duffle bag in one hand, which will undoubtedly be sore as hell by the time I meet the rest of the team.
"There he is," Taria exclaims once I join her in the alley, opening her arms as if she was an extranet show host. Had she not done that, I admit that I'd have not recognized her: I was getting used to her black and grey enviro-suit getup that seeing her in a black and white outfit with a red hood threw me off a little. Ryla shows up just a few moments later, also carrying a duffle bag, albeit with much less effort than me. She's physically fit, sure, but, much like me, not imposingly well built; therefore, I assume that duffle bag contains light armor.
"So," I say, "we're waiting for Ronin, I guess.". Taria chuckles, right before Ronin's voice comes out of nowhere, "I thought you'd have learned by now," she teases, deactivating her cloaking.
"Does law enforcement want you that badly that you have to make yourself invisible everywhere you go?" I tease back. "Nah, not really," she shrugs, "It's just for fun. C-Sec doesn't even know my name."
"Well, neither do we," I joke. "Well... we get through this, and I might reward you with such information.".
Taria calls for our attention. "Deal," I swiftly tell Ronin before turning towards the quarian. "So, you all know what you need to do. Ronin, get that cloak back on and be ready to sneak in," Taria says before peeking from the wall and looking towards the guards at the entrance of the building, "I'll go work my charm on those two idiots, you guys be ready," she tells Ryla and me, "Once I get back to you, we'll go in. There's a small room before entering the depot; you'll gear up in there."
"Roger that," Ronin says, disappearing towards the building. "Right," Taria says, "Derek, Ryla, the guys on the inside are with Cerberus, so they're fair game. These morons on the outside are with a private security group, however. They're committing a highly criminal act, but we're not Spectres; we have no life and death authority over them."
"Sounds a bit stupid," Ryla complains. "I know. I want to remind you that the money will be donated to the war effort by the Shadow Broker, so everyone's going to think that the heist was carried out by his agents. C-Sec won't mind if the Shadow Broker kills a bunch of Cerberus operatives, but they might stick their nose in if we kill those other cretins, and then they'll find out who actually did it."
"Makes sense," I say, "let's get on with it."
"I like your spirit, Derek. Here goes nothing," she says, before starting to approach the guards.
While we wait for them to do their jobs, hidden in the alley, Ryla and I open our duffle bags to ready our gear to be able to equip it as quickly as possible once we're in. As per usual, I put on my armor's vambraces and gently lift the duffle bag from the ground with my biotics. The azure plaques on the armor glow, indicating that they are working as intended. I then load a clip into my gun without turning the safety off, just so I won't have to do that later.
Ryla looks at the piece of armor I'm wearing with curiosity on her expression, "Never seen that kinda armor before. You an N7 Fury?"
"Wrath," I correct her, "armor's still experimental, so it's not an official specialization yet. And I'm guessing you're an N7 Shadow?" I say as she takes out her armor to check for any issues. The armor is definitely a Shadow's, but with a few modifications, and no N7 insignia. This time, it's her turn to correct me, "I was an N7 Shadow. Dishonorable discharge.". I nod and look down, not knowing how to answer. I don't want to say anything that'll anger her, so I just play dumb and ask her what happened. She sighs, "I'm not nearly drunk enough to tell you.". I nod again, showing what little sympathy I can. "So," I say in an attempt to change the subject, "You big on swords?"
"Well... not really," she says, grabbing a compound bow and a quiver full of arrows from the duffle bag. She looks at me for a few seconds, "Yeah, that's usually everyone's reaction."
"A bow?" I ask, thoroughly confused. "Very well," she sighs, "do you know how kinetic barriers work?".
"They deflect incoming bullets.". Ryla nods, "And if I were to punch you while your shields are up, would that be deflected?"
"No, it's too slow. Barriers wouldn't interact with it."
"Exactly," she says, telling me to come closer and take a look, "barriers are designed to block projectiles the mass of a grain of sand traveling at several times the speed of sound, not large arrows a hundred times slower than that. These things have mass effect fields boosting their velocity, so they can go through your average armor without even minding its shields. But unless you can ace almost every shot, it's not that reliable.". I chuckle slightly, "And I'm guessing you make it reliable?"
"Oh. That's for damn sure."
"All is good on my end, Taria. You can go in," Ronin's voice says over the comms. "Well, it's been great chatting with you, but I should really get to the convention. Everyone's gonna love my cosplay," Taria didn't broadcast any part of her conversation with the guards; however, she purposefully said this one over the radio to inform Ronin that she's received the message. Ryla and I grab our duffle bags and wait for Taria to join us, which she does in a matter of seconds. "Bonnie, Clyde. You ready to go?"
"Yeah. Let's do this."
Taria leads us to the now open secondary backdoor. Just as she said during the briefing, there is no personnel guarding it; they evidently did not expect anyone to be able to access it anyway. We walk through the door and into the small chamber that goes into the depot. We take just a couple of minutes to gear up. Putting the armor directly on top of my civilian clothes feels somewhat wrong, even if the under armor is almost utterly useless at stopping bullets anyway. What feels even more irritating is having to put a helmet on, which is something I prefer not doing when necessary: once the biotic fatigue kicks in, it becomes hard to breathe inside those things. But I guess it makes sense to be hiding our identity for a job like this.
"Your time to shine, Ryla," Taria whispers, while the door leading into the depot slides open. She chuckles confidently, plucking an arrow from her belt quiver and nocking it on the bowstring, ready to be shot when necessary. Taria instructs us to take the first corridor to the right to go towards the shipping terminal. As soon as we do, a guard a few meters ahead of us steps into the aisle, turning his head toward us. Before he even has time to even think about calling for help, an arrow plunges itself into his forehead, coming out bloodied on the other side. As I turn towards her, Ryla is already nocking a new one on the string.
We make our way to the terminal, spotting two Cerberus agents by it: one of them is using it, the other is looking around to see if everything is as it should be. Ryla signals Taria and me to halt; she unsheathes a knife, skillfully letting it perform a cartwheel before carefully grabbing it by its razor-sharp blade and handing it to me. "Do you know where to strike with that?" she asks me, prompting me to shake my head. "Ideally, you're gonna want to slash the jugular. If not, under the armpit's good enough. Whatever you do, don't go for the heart - there's no way you're getting past the armor with a knife," she instructs me.
"Right, so what do you want me to do?" I ask. "Go over there, in the aisle to the left, the one nearest to the terminal. Pull the guy looking around toward you with your biotics and stab him; I'll take care of the other."
"Gotcha," I say, silently making my way to where she directed. Once I do, I turn back towards her and wait until she gives me the signal, which she eventually does after a few instants spent assessing if the situation around her had changed while she taught me how to slice someone's jugular. As soon as I see her nod, I pull the guard towards me with enough force that his helmet detaches itself from the rest of the armor when he hits the scaffolding behind me. Looking at his face, I can tell that the head trauma left him conscious, yet was strong enough to leave him immobile on the ground, unable to speak beyond a weak, gravelly whimper. He's definitely out of the fight as he is, but I'm not risking him getting up later and calling for help: I quickly dash towards him, putting him in a chokehold with my left arm, while my right hand sticks the knife in the side of his neck. Blood promptly starts pouring from the wound, spurting on my arm; his unnaturally electric-blue eyes staring up at mine, as his breath fades away.
I look towards the terminal just inside to see Taria shoving the corpse of the Cerberus agent aside, planting her device on the computer, and whispering an order in Ryla's ear, who promptly nods and runs toward me.
"Ouch. That'll take a bit to clean off," Ryla chuckles, pointing at the blood spatter on my armor. "Yeah, that's why you wear under armor, I guess," I quip back, referring to the blood that flowed off of my vambrace, staining the civilian clothing underneath, "Thank God I didn't wear my favorite shirt." I'm joking, clearly; it's actually the absence of my leather jacket beneath the armor that brings me relief - staining that one would have been an unforgivable sin.
"We still have to clear the room," she tells me, pointing upwards at the top of some scaffolding, "see if you can get up there and spot the enemy for me.". I nod before biotically lifting myself five meters. As soon as I reach the top, I crouch down to avoid being seen by those below. This position does indeed offer a good vantage point when it comes to spotting threats, but there's nothing to hide behind if one of them decides to look up for some reason.
"Need a hand, Ryla?" Ronin says over the comms, decloaking beside her.
"Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me," she almost shouts out loud, "don't ever do that again.".
"Where's Derek?" Ronin asks Ryla, sniggering. She guides Ronin's gaze with one hand until she sees me. "How'd he get up there?". I reply by creating a tiny mass effect field around my arm, engulfing it in that glowing blue color that's typical of biotics. "God, I wish I could do that," she chuckles.
Target after target, patrol after patrol, all enemies in the warehouse fall. There's something considerably pleasing in watching Ryla work - it's satisfying to see her arrows always find their mark. Ronin's not too bad either: nothing excessively stunning, but she's quite the martial artist. The guys whose necks she just snapped would agree with me.
"You're all clear, Taria," I broadcast over the radio, "feel free to begin working your magic.". She acknowledges my message and tells us to keep patrolling the warehouse: it's clear, but there are plenty more in other parts of the structure just waiting to randomly stumble on a dead body and sound the alarms.
"That can't be right," I hear Taria whisper over the comms. I stop and look around, almost paranoid about what she said. She could have just made a minor, easily-fixable mistake. But I know that a small "something's wrong" is usually the first warning of an imminent shitstorm. "What is it, Taria?" I ask, keeping my composure while simultaneously clutching my gun's grip, still inside the holster.
"My observations were way off. The credits flowing through, the Cerberus personnel at the facility, the number of weapons moved in... they all doubled in the past few days. Why would Cerberus store this many weapons here? It doesn't make sense..."
"Unless they were looking to expand their influence in the Serpent Nebula," Ryla remarks, "this area of space is every power-hungry madman's wet dream. Question is, what are they planning exactly?"
"From these numbers, it would seem like their planning a ground war here on the Citadel," Taria says, "but even they wouldn't be so crazy as to actually try it. Would they?"
"They're crazy enough to indoctrinate their own with Reaper tech," I comment, "we can't take anything for granted with these guys. We need to get this intel to the Council."
"I can't believe I'm saying this," Ronin adds, "but for once, I'm leaning towards working with the authorities. The higher-ups need to get wind of this."
"They will. Just wait a couple hours until the Shadow Broker helps us with our alibi, then we can say they gave us the information," Taria instructs us.
"Broker's gonna want to hurry then," I say, "who knows how many other warehouses like this Cerberus has on standby. As far as we're aware, they could strike right now."
"Let's focus on the now of it all," Ryla remarks, "We have to make it out of here first."
"About that," Taria jumps in, "The credits have all been transferred. We've got ourselves a sweet sum of one-hundred eighty-six billion credits. Some good came out of all this prepping, at least. Derek, I'm gonna need you to take care of the hangar door before they sound the alarm, which could be any second now."
"Rog," I reply before making my way to the hangar door near the shipping terminal. The alarm starts blaring almost as soon as I form the mass effect field on the hangar door. As pain and fatigue slowly start slithering their way into my body, I tell the rest of the team to cover me - if there are enemies on the other side, I'm an easy target. The door is open wide enough for us to start going towards the hangar. As expected, we do receive some enemy fire; luckily, our response, albeit lacking in firepower, is enough for them to be unable to aim accurately, as none of their shots even remotely pass near me.
First Ryla, then Taria, and lastly, a cloaked Ronin walk through the tiny gap in the door; they start engaging the Cerberus agents on the other side, while I use the distraction to slowly start making my way inside the hangar. Every step brings more and more strain on my body, and there's not much keeping me from falling to the floor other than my own willpower; luckily, it's not a virtue I lack. The doors itself are heavy enough for an untrained biotic to be unable to even make them budge; also, I'm fighting off the security systems that are trying their best to shut the doors closed. All in all, it's probably just a few tons I'm moving. It's about halfway through my effort that I rue the moment I put my helmet on; breathing is getting significantly harder every second, and I hate that I can't wipe the sweat from my forehead.
Nearing the door, I don't even care that there is a raging gunfight on the other side that could kill me any instant; for now, there is only that damn finish line. Once my destination has been reached, I let myself tumble on the ground, forming a barrier in front of me so weak that it serves just to discourage the enemy from shooting me, thinking that they're going to waste clips. I'm quite sure, however, that such a barrier couldn't stop a rock thrown by a slingshot. Fortunately, I don't have to face those odds: Ryla grabs my arm and drags me all the way to cover behind a shuttle. Being safe from bullets and eyesight, I take off my helmet and take several deep breaths, which immediately seem to be beneficial to my recovery. "You done already?" Ryla asks, helping me stand up with one arm and prompting me to get back in the fight. "Not even close," I say, panting.
I put the helmet back on, draw my gun from its holster, and start to return fire at the enemy. I peek from cover and throw a few lances, really feeling the strain when I see my lance hit someone and take out their shields, but fail to cause any injury other than a broken rib, at best. Had I not just performed one of my most challenging biotic feats to date, that Cerberus bastard would have definitely died on impact.
As some of the adrenaline starts to wear out, I start thinking more rationally, making a quick assessment of the situation: Taria said that the hangar would contain three cargo shuttles full of weapons, but there are seven resting in the hangar right now. "We can only bring three with us; we're torching the rest," Taria tells me over the radio when I ask her what we're going to do with them. "Do we have enough charges?" I ask her. "No. But the shuttles are carrying explosives. We'll arm those already onboard."
"Who's gonna do that," I ask her. "Who do you think?" Ronin replies. When I look around, she's nowhere to be found, so I assume she's already cloaked and busy.
"Derek," Ryla whispers from beside me, directing my attention to some Cerberus troopers that clearly weren't taught about spacing, "Place a Singularity near those guys.". I do as she instructed, and, as the enemies are yanked around helplessly, an arrow starts flying from my right, exploding like a grenade when it touches one of the soldiers, taking them all out at once.
I keep myself busy by throwing lances at the enemies and forming a few barriers here and there; it's not helping me get over my fatigue. But it is still a better alternative to firing my gun: my body is still shaking, and I can't aim steadily. My lances are at least being very successful at politely convincing the enemy to keep their heads down, giving Taria and Ryla all the time in the world to change their angle of attack every few seconds.
Even though the enemies in the hangar outnumber us around five to one, they find themselves having to hide behind cover. If I was ever skeptical about a bow in open combat, I definitely am not anymore. Witnessing numerous of their comrades catch an arrow between the eyes has made them pretty cautious about peeking from cover to shoot. And I must admit that seeing them cower is quite amusing. It is, in fact, so entertaining that Ronin has finished arming the explosives aboard the four surplus shuttles and has already begun planting the charges on the ones they'd use to pursue us: a task that only takes her a few minutes.
"We're all set," Ronin tells us over the radio. Taria orders Ronin to take off and signals that she's moving towards her designated shuttle. Ryla and I immediately begin to dramatically increase the rate at which we throw arrows and lances at the enemy.
Just as Taria reaches the shuttle, one of the enemies decides to try his luck and shoot her. It doesn't end well for him, as an arrow plunges itself in his throat, but not before a burst of bullets reaches Taria. Her shields absorbed most of the projectiles; the last one, however, delivered a grazing hit on her hip, causing her nimble body to lose its balance and fall over. I get out of cover and start running towards her, narrowly avoiding getting shot like she was. I lunge the last few meters that separate us and put up a barrier to protect her. Miraculously, the time it takes me to cover that distance is less than the time it took for the next hostile to take their chance and deliver the killing blow on Taria. The bullets break themselves against my barrier, and shortly after, an arrow pierces both his helmet and his skull.
Seeing their fellow soldier be killed just a few instants after leaving cover makes the rest hesitate to do the same. Ryla uses this opportunity to engage her tactical cloak, presumably starting to make her way to us. However, her temporary absence is felt, as the hostiles now feel comfortable with raining bullets on my barrier. Luckily, I only have to hold for a few seconds, as Ryla turns off her invisibility behind us and once again starts shooting straight toward the enemies' heads. As per usual, this buys us a few seconds, during which she fires a handful of arrows at the shuttle she was supposed to fly, hitting its engines with seemingly no effect.
She grabs Taria and pulls her up into the shuttle, while I hold the barrier and join them a few seconds later. Ryla rushes to the cockpit and starts the engines, then taps on her omnitool a few times; the arrows she shot at the other shuttle's engines start letting out fiery flashes and sparks. "I can't see from here, Derek," she shouts, "did the thermites go off?"
"Looks like it," I shout back, closing the hold doors, "we're good, take off.". Ryla hastily does as I told her, and within seconds we're a safe distance away to set off the charges. Before I even have to say anything, Taria taps a few times on her omnitool, and immediately my ears distinguish the sounds of explosions amidst the roaring of the engines. Looking out the window reveals the pleasing sight of blazes and smoke coming from the hangar: no shuttle survived.".
The satisfaction of a job well done will have to wait, however: Taria is still wounded. The bullet wound itself is so insignificant that I usually wouldn't worry: a single application of medigel does the trick. However, even such a small wound can quickly get infected, and that's a big problem if you're quarian. Taria needs to be brought to a hospital, but she insists we stash the weapons first; "We can't park a shuttle full of weapons outside a hospital," she says, "besides, a few minutes aren't going to make the difference between life and death. It's mostly a matter of luck.
We radio Ronin to tell her about what happened, given that all she heard were gunshots, shouts, and grunts of pain over the comms. Taria uses her omnitool to transmit the hideout location to both shuttle's navigation computers. "One less truckload of weapons for double the credits. I'll take that trade," she says, laughing, "we did a good job. I'm just sorry I won't be there for the most crucial step of the plan - partying hard. You'll have to handle it yourself while I'm in a stupid hospital bed.".
"About that," Ronin says, "I kinda have this salarian Spectre trying to find me; I'd better avoid crowds. I can't drink with the rest of you, sorry."
"Pity," Ryla says over the radio, "You gonna stay true to your word, though?"
"What?"
"You said you'd tell us your name if we got through this, Ronin.".
"Ugh, fine. Kasumi Goto - delighted to meet you. Happy now?"
"Taria'Nari?" the asari doctor says, walking into the room. Taria raises her hand from the hospital bed she's lying on. "I've got your results," the doctor informs her, "the wound is indeed infected, but it's nothing a few antibiotics can't handle. You can expect fever, dizziness, and fatigue. Just stay here for a day or two so that we can monitor your conditions at all times, should any issues arise. Once you're out, though, you won't be able to go back to active duty for about five days. I already informed your commander that you won't be joining them on your next mission."
Before any of us have time to say anything, she walks back through the door and disappears into the crowded hallway. It seems that Echo 7's numbers are growing thinner every day. Taria, Caryll, and me: the team's down three members. "As I feared," Taria says, "I really won't be joining you for celebratory drinks."
"And neither will Kasumi, I take it," I add, turning my gaze left to look at Ryla, "that leaves just the two of us.".
"Well," she replies, "I don't know about you, but I sure could use a drink after all this excitement.".
"Well, you kids have fun," Kasumi chimes in, "as I said, I'd rather not have that salarian Spectre bust up your night out. Arrests are such a buzzkill...". After she's done talking, she performs her typical magic trick: switching on her tactical cloak and disappearing.
"She's so great at that, isn't she?" Taria says, mocking the voice of a proud mother, "Very well then, I'll leave you to your drinks. Think I'm gonna catch some sleep. Or maybe hack my way into someone's private life, I don't know."
"You do you, Taria," Ryla chuckles, "As for you, Derek, meet me at Purgatory tonight. Seeing as it's only the two of us, I'm officially challenging you to a good old fashioned drink off."
I make my way to the bar by moving through the crowds with great care: picking a fight with someone simply because they bumped into you is a popular way to vent, and the war's got everyone on edge. I'm thankful that none of the drunks decided to start something while I passed through once I reach my destination. Ryla is already there, waiting for me.
I sit on the free stool beside her that she saved for me. We greet each other, and without losing ourselves in pleasantries, she immediately starts explaining the rules of the duel, "Each round consists in a shot of Ryncol. The first person to quit pays the whole tab.".
"Ryncol, huh?" I say, "Won't take long before we're both on the floor.".
"I'm counting on it. Ready to start?"
"Yep. Just try to keep up, ok?"
A first shot, then another, and another one after that, and we're already starting to feel the buzz. Krogans are extreme about lots of things, and making booze is, without a doubt, one of them.
After a fourth one, we decide to take a small break. "So, Derek," she asks, "Taria said something about you being kicked out of the Alliance... wanna talk about it?"
"From the team," I correct her, "not the Alliance itself. I'm waiting on redeployment.".
"What happened?"
"Well, I... I may have... kinda almost killed a teammate with my biotics."
"Hmm, I understand."
I'm pretty sure she doesn't, but I'm also pretty sure this isn't even a conversation anymore - I'm just blurting out what's crossing my inebriated head, "But they're idiots. Because of a petty fight, they're going to Tuchanka without their best biotic. Plus, Taria and Caryll are injured, so they also won't join them. How do they plan on making it with so few people?"
"Well, as long as they're good," she remarks, "I'm sure everything will work out just fine.".
"Well, yeah. I mean, some of the soldiers on the team are really good. But when it comes to biotics? We have two asari, but one is a sniper, and the other one is a brawler."
"So they're going in without barriers?"
"Well... no. Rachel probably will replace me, but I don't know if she can handle it. She's not very experienced, and this is a crucial mission - we're curing the genophage, for crying out loud!"
"Shhh!" Ryla shushes me, looking around herself to check if anyone heard, "you can't just say that in the middle of a club.".
"Yeah, you're right," I tell her, "let's just get back to drinking so I can thrash you.".
"Yeah, you wish," she laughs, "just another couple of shots, and you're a goner.".
"Hah, I've been doing this from before you were even... no, that's not right; you're older than me.".
She chuckles, "so much for that insult.".
"Yeah, whatever. Point is, I'm not a high-schooler. I can handle my booze.". We have a good laugh before we start drinking again. And it's good we did: you should laugh it up while you can...
... because neither of us is laughing when we wake up in the same bed the morning after.