I got so many goddamn complaints from people who wanted a bigger chapter and something different, well look at what that pestering did. It made me drop this on you. I originally had thought to put this in the previous chapter and wait on it but sad to say I decided against it because I thought you guys would like the shorter chapters.

Guess I was wrong, if you are going to feed someone, don't do it small. Stuff their faces! So from this point forward, no matter how big the chapter, this is what you get, and I expect you to like every single word you get.

Now, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it features a few familiar faces that we have been dying to see.

Are We Alone

Chapter 13: Bad Day

Citadel, Zakera Ward

The Wards were the major hubs of the Citadel, where the majority of resident lived and worked on the massive station. Where the Presidium was home to the politicians and the gathering of governments, the Wards were home to the common folk and the majority of the Citadel's economy. Each of the great arms of the Citadel served as a unique city separate and different from the others, and defined by the races that lived there. The Elcor, Hanar and Volus dominated the Zakera Ward, for example, and had taken the initiative and turned it into the Citadel's main commercial hub. Here one could find products that came from nearly every single colonized world in Citadel Space, from the exotic to the mundane.

It was seen as the dominate marketplace among the Wards through sheer variety alone, and thus saw the highest traffic. Although the Elcor, Hanar and Volus were the dominate races, plenty others worked and lived there. Turian, Salarian, Asari, as well as plenty humans who had yet to segregate themselves.

"What now?" Garrus Vakarian droned, dreading the assignment he already knew they had- the Wards.

"The usual." Chellick replied, Vakarian's partner and fellow Turian and detective within C-Sec.

The two of them had worked together for years, and had finally been up for promotions and better opportunities for all their hard work. Sadly, that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon, as the last five years had been a haze of major security threats and rising unrest in the Wards. Unrest that had spread from Ward to Ward, spilling into the Presidium, and even penetrating supposedly impartial parties such as C-Sec.

"Spirits help us, another riot?" Garrus groaned in exasperation. Chellick didn't answer, but he didn't need to; that was the only thing that happened down here nowadays.

"Another denial for Relocation." Chellick replied, shrugging his shoulder, already answering the unasked question.

Relocation, also known as Relay Restriction – Addendum 3.2, Administrative Approved Colony Resettlement, Section 5.4E. It was a fancy way of someone saying that they didn't want to stay on their current station anymore were requesting immediate transportation to another planet. Rather unsurprisingly, there had been a flood of human made requests over the years, growing in volume until the entire process had been unofficially frozen and denials of request were given without question. But after so many rejections, someone had gotten it in their head if they caused enough problems they would be allowed to leave to preserve the peace and order.

It worked exactly once before it caught on and spread like a disease.

"Hopefully we can sort this out." Garrus muttered, though he doubted it. Riots were practically a daily occurrence and it was a rare thing indeed when they didn't end with a lot of people getting hurt.

He could only hope that it would be one of those days.

But when the echo of gunfire started down the street not two seconds later, both of them knew that any hopes for a good day were long gone. Both turned to the source and immediately took off, drawing their weapons and taking stock of their ammo and armor. Chellick had an assault rifle, which was probably more suited for what they'd be dealing with than Garrus' tiny pistol, but the situation wasn't something fitting for a sniper rifle, so he would have to make due.

"On me." Garrus said, taking off down the street and towards the disturbance.

"This is Detective Chellick! We got gunfire down on Block 233. Please confirm and give us a sit-rep."

Garrus rounded the street corner, dodging fleeing non-combatants and keeping his weapon raised and scanner on the lookout for any drawn and active weaponry. He checked the branching streets, looking for the source of the shooting over the chaos of fleeing civilians. He heard it again, and without a doubt, it was getting closer.

"They're coming this way." Garrus said, quickly motioning to the other side of the street and holstering his pistol.

"I got a firing solution here: you get higher and see what you can spot, since there are still too many civilians in the streets." Chellick responded over their comms.

"Got it." Garrus replied, turning and clambering up the side of a building, moving as quickly as possible.

It was only a short two-story building, hardly ideal for spotting when plenty of buildings were taller, but he didn't have time if the approaching gunshots were any indication. So he drew his sniper rifle and took position on the edge of the roof without complaint. Even with the scope it was hardly an ideal spot with minimal cover, but he could at least see far down the streets below him.

"Just got word, there was a firefight near some warehouses a few blocks down. But I've got nothing else other than that a Krogan was involved." Chellick briefed over the line. "Expect at least one heavy to be coming in."

It was hard to take down a Krogan on a good day, much less an armored one firing a gun and charging head-on at you. Looks like it was going to be a really bad day for them.

"Thirty meters, I've got an armored merc with a gun." Chellick said.

Garrus already had him in his sights and huffed. The bastard was unloading his gun on the street like some sort of drunk Omega hick. What the hell was he doing, trying to shoot the dust? It didn't really matter to him however, and he lined up his shot without delay. A sharp crack and the bastard's helmet caved and shattered just like his skull, leaving the body to fall limply to the floor.

"One down." Garrus said, before he noticed several others rounding the corner, "Got eight more coming in."

"Force them into cover, slow them down for me."

He fired and watched as they dove for cover with shouts of "Sniper!". He fired a couple of rounds, not truly aiming to hit them, but instead to keep them cowering for as long as possible. If they couldn't stand, they couldn't properly shoot, and the civilians would have longer to get away. Chellick followed his lead, the two of them a well-oiled machine, and he rose out of cover just enough to pepper their position with shots. Divide their attention, and they would make mistakes.

'Like that', Garrus thought smugly as another shot and another target slumped back. "Draw their fire!" He said, ducking low as shots pinged against the very edge of the roof. With no effective cover, Garrus was a sitting duck once they pinpointed his location.

"Can't, they're firing at someone else." Chellick replied, quiet for a moment as he observed. "They're breaking off."

"I noticed. They're probably going to try and circle around us. Follow them and I'll try and cut them off." Garrus said, rising up and leaping off the building.

He and his partner took off in opposite directions down the street. They had to pin down this little group so they couldn't so easily get away. Then their backup could be called and they could catch the troublemakers for interrogation instead of being forced to put a bullet in their heads to insure civilian safety. Not that Garrus cared much which it ended up being, but the higher-ups liked taking criminals alive when they could; you never knew when one happened to have the intel you needed to run a huge bust.

Garrus rushed along the street, sprinting past both fleeing and obviously dazed civilians. Without any directions, the people ran without a clue where to go besides "away", while some huddled inside buildings and alleyways. Worse yet, he could see some that were wounded, some with just light grazes and bruises, while others were being hastily dragged away by good samaritans.

"This is Detective Vakarian, I need a med-team down in Block 233, we have several wounded civilians down here." He hoped that they got here quick, because he certainly couldn't afford to stay and help. No, the best thing he could do was stop the thugs before anyone else could be caught in the crossfire.

"They're heading down Kolai Street, right for the plaza! Get there right now-!" Chellick shouted over the comm, before gunfire cut him off.

Garrus picked up his pace and drew his assault rifle he kept for more 'heavy-duty' situations. Finesse could wait for when he didn't have a time limit before a group of thugs shop up the plaza during its rush hour. No, he needed to put these bastards against a wall and stop them, cold and dead if he needed. He rounded the corner and nearly collided with the very same mercs he'd just been looking for.

"God fucki…!"

Garrus didn't let him finish, firing at point-blank and retreating before he was even sure he'd landed the hit. A torrent of return fire chipped away at the wall threateningly and sprayed the Turian with a shower of debris. Garrus hissed as he found his shields flickering, as that bastard he had riddled with bullets got off a few shots on him in his death throes. But he couldn't stand around, not unless he was looking to get punched full of holes when the group realized he was alone and charged him, so he took off running. There was angry shouting, so he leapt behind the nearest thing that could serve as cover: a solid metal flower bed. It wasn't the sturdiest of cover, nor the highest, but as shots flew over his head, Garrus decided he'd deal with crouching awkwardly close to the ground for a bit longer. Near the corner, the remaining gunmen moved up and were quick to put him in their sights.

"I'm pinned!" Garrus shouted, cursing as he saw helpless people started running for their lives. The thugs were more interested in shooting him than random people, but for how long would that last? "Chellick, do you have them?"

But,

"Chellick?"

There was nothing, no response, and Garrus had learned to be ready for the worst. With a hiss, he stood and started firing at random, mostly to regain their wavering attention. As he rose Garrus noted that instead of six gunmen he was only faced with four. Where the other two were he didn't have a clue, and though it improved his odds, he couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in his gut. Without Chellick he had no choice but to handle them alone, yes, but that also meant two armed criminals were unaccounted for. Rising, he aimed for the one shooting at him and force the man back a few steps and into cover.

Garrus didn't know exactly when it happened, but only two of them were still there, intent on keeping him pinned. He turned and found the other two running up through the plaza, chasing after the fleeing civilians, gunning down anyone in their way. He narrowed his eyes as he realized this wasn't a random act of violence; those bastards were obviously chasing someone, and didn't seem to care who they killed along the way. So, a hit squad then, but what would justify this much firepower?

"Dammit!" Garrus cursed, forced back into cover and unable to see what they were chasing, or stop them from killing more people.

He rose up and fired again, no matter how bad of an idea that was, forcing both his attackers to back up. He risked a glance and saw it: the mercs slowing as they approached whoever they had downed. Clutching her side, she was obviously bleeding and then he noticed what they were chasing. It was a surprise to see who they were after.

"A Quarian?" Garrus muttered, ignoring the slight flicker of shields as bullets pelted it.

He retaliated and forced them back, but the he turned his sights on the other two. They had pinned her under a heavy boot, ready to make a point-blank shot to finish her off. Professionals, Garrus noted, unwilling to leave anything to chance, even if she had little chance of surviving the infection she had surely already contracted from the dirty floor she'd been sprawled on. He couldn't have his main lead to just what was going on here die, so he recklessly turned his back to the other merc and fired on the executors. They stumbled and the shot went wide, closer to Garrus than the downed Quarian as they frantically attempted to return fire. But Garrus didn't bother with his own safety, unloading his rifle until his shields exploded and he felt something graze his armor.

He crouched low and tried to make himself a smaller target, but he knew he was seconds at best from getting wounded. They had practically a perfect line of sight to him and he as too far from real cover that wouldn't get him shot by the other two to his side. With no choice but to fight, he brought his gun forward in the faint hope he could force them back long enough for him to get away.

This was a really bad day.

Of course, because he thought that, it got worse.

There was a brief instance of knowing, a feeling that that must have struck them all, as the guns stopped, the screaming stopped, the very world itself seemed to stop for a fathomless moment. An eternity compressed into a millisecond, that swelled and shattered violently, shaking the world to pieces as an explosion threw Garrus to the ground. Hazy, the plaza was swallowed by a blanket of choking dust, plunging them into a forced night. Ears ringing, Garrus coughed and spat dirt from his mouth, forcing himself up onto unsteady legs and stumbling to what he hoped was cover. He couldn't see anyone, could barely hear, and he had no idea if he was about to get shot in the back by the mercs he couldn't locate despite his life literally depending on it.

'What in the name of the Spirits caused that?' Garrus thought hazily, turning towards the source of the explosion.

The plume of dust and debris that had been kicked up from the impact was massive, already settling and still stretching almost half as tall as the buildings, and Garrus was frankly amazed it hadn't broken clean through the floor. He almost wondered if they'd been hit by a rogue asteroid, but no, the defenses of the Citadel were vast and powerful, and the fields surrounding it should have been more than enough. The dirt fell, blanketing the entire area in nearly a half-inch deep shroud. And inside the heart of the chaos, the cause, the reason, was revealed as the debris settled and-

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Garrus muttered, his weapon slumping in his grip, now effectively pointless, as he regarded the one person he did not want to see walking in his direction this morning. Or at any point in his life really.

The Guardian of Elysium, The First Anomaly, the…thing that decimated an entire army and had broken the blitz, was calmly strolling forward – bare chested, oddly enough. He looked just like he did in those videos and countless pictures: a youthful human male in his early twenties at most, with gaudy orange hair and a glare that could make a Krogan run back to suckle on his mother's teat. Garrus just watched, unable to take his eyes off the guy that had been proclaimed Citadel Space's greatest enemy. He was lorded by humanity, demonized by everyone else, and right now he was on the Citadel and in the very heart of their controlled space. The Turian wasn't sure what would happen next, but he knew it would be just as the not-human's entrance had been: violent and with no small amount of property damage.

He started walking, strong strides that would've made Garrus warry if he didn't know just what he was, and it took Garrus a moment to realize he wasn't the one being approached. Instead, he could see a Turian and Asari huddling on the sidelines, the former fretting over her. He wasn't sure if they were a couple or not, or even if it had been the explosion or trigger-happy mercs that had hurt her, but whatever the reason, the anomaly had taken interest. The Asari shouted, and the Turin rounded on the not-human, barely even hesitating before shouting at Ichigo. It didn't seem to do any good, so the Turian lashed out.

Garrus was entirely sure he was about to see a hideously gruesome death, but Ichigo barely reacted, pushing the Turian away, and kept nothing but the feather-light press of his hand on the alien- which was more than enough to keep him away when he started thrashing. Ichigo ignored him, and leaned down to the shying Asari, hand glowing a soft green that spread when he touched the Asari's side. It only took a moment, so brief Garrus would have thought he hadn't even done anything if it hadn't rumored that he could casually break the sound barrier several times over, before the anomaly finished and walked away without a word. Or at least he started to, until his eyes caught sight of something interesting enough to stop him short.

Garrus turned, finding that the two shooters from before, both standing there like the slack-jawed idiots they were. At their feet, the Quarian was doing her best to not bleed out while also playing dead.

Brown eyes narrowed dangerously, and Garrus was sharply reminded that the not-human before him had carved through a thousand slavers to protect a handful of survivors. Although it had been assumed, absolutely nothing had ever proven, he would only protect humans.

"Shit! Kill that Quarian and run dammit!" One yelled, already running and having decided that the fastest man survived, mission be damned.

Garrus saw the other merc moving to finish the mark and book it, and the anomaly didn't matter anymore. He had to stop it, had to protect her, had to-

Garrus raised his gun and saw only the anomaly's back, suddenly there between the downed Quarian and the rest of the world. There hadn't been a wind-up, or even a blur of movement, the anomaly had just appeared, dropped into reality from nothing and already mid-motion with a raised hand. It wasn't even a punch, but a simple backhand and the merc was gone, the only proof he hadn't atomized was the new hole in a wall several meters away. Garrus didn't bother giving the sight a second look, not when it was solid metal that had a perfect hole punched through it and probably several behind it.

Well, identifying that man was going to require DNA tests for sure, since he had probably just been reduced to a pile of meat and shattered bones.

Dead was dead, but Garrus made a mental note to have no part in that clean-up.

"Run! Fucking run!" The fleeing merc yelled, for some reason thinking drawing attention to himself was a good idea. Granted, considering how the other two hadn't moved an inch, they all probably lacked in basic survival instincts.

"What about the mark? The boss said…!" One started, only to be stopped hard by a Carnage shot to the back.

It was unmistakable, what with the way the guy had been blown messily in half. Which, granted, could have easily been one from the anomaly's ever-growing bag of tricks, but the sound of the shot was incredibly distinct and ingrained into Garrus' memory from the number of times he'd nearly lost his own head to one. The other merc saw the flying torso of his ally and tried to figure out exactly where he was supposed to run. An anomaly behind him, and a very angry Krogan in red armor to his side... that had just blindsided the him with a roar, removing all chances of escape.

"You pricks really are making my job difficult." The Krogan growled, slowly lifting his captive with one hand and steadily choking the merc to death.

Garrus had no love for mercenaries and would like nothing more than to see them all die horribly for all the people they had surely killed today, but he had a job to do. A job that would help give insight on why this hit had been put out and, hopefully, by who, and bring at least some justice. And he wasn't going to let a pissy Krogan or an overpowered ginger stop that from happening.

"Hold it! C-Sec! Put the merc down!" Garrus shouted, rushing from his cover and quickly advancing on the large reptilian biped and the human in his hand.

"Great, another one." The Krogan grumbled, giving only a derisive glance before looking back at the merc in his grasp. Thankfully, he lowered the man to the ground, but still kept a firm grip on the merc's neck, just shy of choking.

Seeing something from the corner of his eye Garrus saw the other merc there, standing stock still and looking like a trapped Pyjack. Levelling his weapon, he pointed it right at the bastard and gave him a glare even more vicious than the shot that had blown his friend in half.

"Drop your weapon! On your knees now!"

"Wait! I surrender! I surrender!" He collapsed to his knees, hands above his head and shaking so badly he could barely manage even that.

Garrus would have liked to think that his intimidating aura did the job, although considering the man was cornered on three different sides, he would have been a fool to try and run. Even more daunting was one single fact: looming just behind him was 'The Anomaly', who was narrowing his eyes and looking seconds away from ending the merc just for the hell of it. Which, unfortunately, went against Garrus' own goals. It was a standoff in all but name, Garrus trapped between two very dangerous individuals who both were able and willing to kill the targets he needed alive. Even if the borderline deity decided that this was all 'beneath his notice' or something (unlikely with what he had seen) Garrus would still have to stand against what was likely a Krogan bounty hunter and his targets. He was pretty sure that humans had a saying for situations like this: trapped between a rock and a hard place. It was a turn of phrase he never fully understood, until that very moment.

Of course, it had to get worse.

"So," The Krogan started, rounding on the anomaly and Garrus very nearly shot the idiot just to try and prevent him from provoking someone who could glass a city block, "You're one of those big and mighty gods that people keep ranting about, huh?"

The Anomaly turned and regarded the Krogan, his intent stare was still there in full force, even with that glare his expression showed little interest in the alien other than it was just standing there.

"Now, you look pretty damn murderous right now, but I've got things I need to do first. I got hired to kills these pieces of shits' boss, but I need one of them to tell me where he is. So, before you go all Elysium or Torfan on their worthless asses, I want my info." The Krogan sure had balls to talk to the anomaly like that, and Garrus didn't know if the painfully neutral expression that refused to even twitch was a positive sign or not.

"Let me put it this way: this fucker is dead either way, so you don't need to waste your time on it. I'm sure you've got better things to do, like razing armies and cutting cruisers in half." The Krogan muttered, before he and the anomaly continued to stare at each other with unnerving calm.

There was a silent conversation going on between them, that much was obvious, but Garrus couldn't have said what it was for the life of him. The Krogan was over a foot taller than the anomaly, and yet none of the typical Krogan arrogance and dismissal could be seen. There was a cautious respect one might give an apex predator, but also…annoyance? Garrus didn't have time to figure that one out before the Krogan gave a grunt and started hauling his prisoner away.

"If it makes you feel better, the rest of them are gonna die too, so stop sulking."

The anomaly huffed but seemed to have reached some sort of understanding. Without a word, he walked over to the remaining merc (that Garrus had completely forgotten existed, what with how quiet he was sobbing), while the Krogan took his own captive away. It was a terrible choice to make, but Garrus was far more confident in his ability to take down a Krogan than the pseudo-deity behind him if push came to shove.

"Stop! I said stop!" Garrus yelled, trying to follow the Krogan. But his body was crashing hard after the trauma he'd just put it through, and the Krogan disappeared down a nearby alleyway. Actually disappeared, gone by the time Garrus reached the entrance, having probably ducked into any number of the back entrances or branching paths down the small road that the Turian just didn't have time to check.

"Dammit!" Garrus breathed out, knowing what he had to do now. There were only two assholes left alive he could question, and one of them was long gone, while the other…

He was demanding a promotion after this shit.

Amazingly enough, the last mercenary in the plaza was still alive, although he looked as if he'd prefer to have been the one get blown to bits with the way the anomaly was looming over him.

"Please, for the love of god! I surrender! Lock me up!" He was openly weeping, cowering on the ground in a pathetic huddle.

It was enough to get on Garrus' nerves, and he would have liked nothing more than to leave the bastard to die. Let the damn anomaly have him, and maybe the monster would have its fill of violence and gore and leave the rest of them in peace. But Garrus needed this bastard, just alive enough to survive an interrogation, and not as a fresh coat of paint on the walls.

But there came the hard part: convincing a monster that cut through armies to give up its current prey without ending up in the sorry merc's place. He could try to use his authority, but that only worked if he assumed that a city-leveling creature cared, and his authority was only good so long as he could actually enforce it. Which usually involved guns, but Garrus wasn't a fan of suicide. Well, it was at least smart enough to be reasoned with by a Krogan of all things, which, while not saying much about the anomaly's overall intelligence, meant it also didn't kill everything it laid eyes on as a default. It came down to actually getting the anomaly to give up his prisoner. Garrus thought back a moment and realized that maybe the Anomaly might do it if he reasoned with him. If a freaking Krogan can do it with a look in his eye and some half thought up excuses than maybe he could do the same.

"Hey, do you mind… handing him over…?" Garrus asked, definitely not flinching when the anomaly turned to him, and wishing he had his usual charm.

All he got was a raised eyebrow, which, granted, was more than the Krogan got. Now to figure out if that was a good or bad thing.

"I'm a detective you know, and I can't really have you killing my suspect. I kind of need him alive… for questioning…"

What was supposed to be a demand awkwardly trailed off into more of a question while the not-human before him barely even blinked. Had it been a normal human Garrus likely would have been a little cheekier, but with something akin to a god standing before him, he decided that not being an ass was in his personal favor.

"So… do you think you can do that?" Garrus asked when he still found himself wanting a response nearly a minute later.

A moment passed before the anomaly nodded, and Garrus could practically taste his own relief. Which lasted for all of two second before the anomaly planted his foot firmly on the merc's armored helmet, forcing him to practically kiss the ground.

"If you pick up a gun again, I will come for you and drag you through the gates of hell myself, got it?" It said, applying enough pressure to actually crack the reinforced helmet.

"Yes! Yes! I get it, I understand! Please don't kill me!" It was truly a pathetic sight, to see a grown man weeping like that, even if it was funny in some twisted way.

Without a word he removed it foot and turned, standing there for a moment and narrowing its eyes at…basically a wall. Garrus wasn't sure what was so interesting about that wall, but so long as the attention wasn't on him, he couldn't really bring himself to care that much, even when it started leaving. It probably wasn't a smart thing to let the anomaly just wander around, moving steadily across the plaza and pausing only to place a hand on a dazed civilian's head and/or chest, but if Garrus' higher ups wanted to raise shit, then they could try and stop it next time.

The Turian didn't move or do anything else to draw attention to himself until the not-human was well out of sight. He let go of the breath he'd been holding in anticipation for something to go wrong, and turned to look at the pathetic mercenary, who hadn't even attempted to get up or reclaim his weapon. Heck, he would probably cry if someone even showed him a gun.

'Just what were you after?'

He looked over towards the one other person that could tell him, but she wasn't there. The Quarian was gone.

He was less surprised than he should have been.

But just where was Chellick? Who were these mercs and who was their boss? Why were they after the Quarian? Who was the Krogan and just who had hired him? And most importantly: why the hell was an anomaly on the Citadel?

Garrus sighed, today was just not going to be a simple one.

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya was in trouble.

Her hand was drenched in her own blood, clutching in vain to keep more from spilling from her gunshot wound. Hazily she realized how dirty her hand was, how dirty this entire station was, and did her best to recall what she was supposed to do in case of an infection. Isolate it, keep it clean, get medical attention immediately, all things she couldn't afford to do. But even the burning hole in her side, vomiting her lifeblood between her fingers that she kept getting dirty, this was hardly the worst thing she'd done in the last eighteen hours.

"I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have gotten curious! I should have just kept going!" She muttered to herself, half delirious from dizzying blood loss and exhaustion.

She really hoped she hadn't picked up an infection, even as she pressed her dirty, dirty hand against the hole in her side. She had gotten a cold once, and had been sick for a month, the virus lingering in her system and evolving faster than her weak immune system to keep up with. All because she just wanted to look at a sky without a visor in her way for once in her life. And that had only been a few seconds, this prolonged exposure, this was…It was bad.

She needed a doctor. Someone skilled in treating Quarians would be idea, but she would take anyone at this point. Even some back ally quack could at least stitch her up and hopefully sell her whatever overpriced Medi-gel they had so she could worry about the infection once she was sure she wouldn't bleed to death. She would surely be price gouged, but that was better than dying in some ditch, and the lack of questions would make it easy for her to be in and out quickly. But after that she would have to look into what sort of protection she could find. She didn't have much money, but she needed bodyguards to keep her safe from the people trying very hard to murder her.

'I can't keep going, there are so many after me now.'

A Krogan would be best, but they were prioritized for obvious reasons, so freelancers would be more than she could ever imagine, and Turians were barely any better. Salarians had better things to do, and Drell were completely loyal to the Hanar. Batarians rarely showed up and she wouldn't want to risk dealing with them just like the Vorcha, whereas the Volus and Elcor were…themselves. Yes, there was no helping it, it would have to be humans. Even if humans were in less than perfect standing in the galactic community, there were plenty of strong ones probably down on their luck she could look into. Hopefully ones that wouldn't ask too many questions, because she didn't want to explain to a human just what she had gotten herself into. Not before she knew more.

It had all started because she found something she wasn't supposed to. It wasn't something small, but instead something groundbreaking and so massive that it could actually change the course of history. It would tear government apart and possibly shatter the ideals of billions- if it ever got out, that is. And there were plenty of people doing the damnedest to make sure she never got the chance to reveal what she now knew.

Staggering down the street, past people going about their business and not bothering to give her a glance even as she bled out, she searched for salvation. These people wouldn't help her, not when she was a Quarian, which gave them reason enough to never trust her, never respect her, never help her. Her kind were labeled as thieves and vagrants, suit rats that should be ridiculed for a three-hundred-year-old mistake that still plagued the galaxy.

It was a travesty that her people should never have been forced to endure. But now she was suffering through it, bleeding to death as she sought help from people that would turn her away simply for her species. She needed to find a hospital, or a doctor sworn to the Hippocratic Oath, anyone who was obligated to help her as if she were any other.

And by the grace of the Ancestors, she found it, a small human clinic.

It wasn't very well kept sadly, the graffiti and vandalism it had suffered showed an ever-growing history of abuse towards humans. It was strange, to see another species she could share a kinship of mistreatment and prejudice with, but she didn't have time to wax poetically on her shared suffering. The clinic had been abused, yes, but its walls were sturdy enough, its doors open, and she took the chance.

"Help… I need help!" Tali gasped, staggering through the door.

The room was small, and had only a few chairs crammed along one wall to serve as a waiting 'room'. The human woman at the desk was on her feet instantly, rushing over to Tali.

"Oh god." The doctor said, pulling Tali through the building and onto a bed without a single question. "Another bullet victim, though I don't usually get alien patients anymore."

So being shot and being human were now commonly paired things? An especially morbid thought, but Tali pushed it away with a (slightly) more positive one: the doctor was familiar with bullet wounds, so she should be in good hands. It really did seem like humans had it worse than Quarians now.

"Stay still and let me treat this." The doctor said, and Tali relaxed and let her get to work.

She couldn't do anything else but lay back and think on the cause for all this misery that had befallen her, and likely would continue to torment her for the remains of what was now probably a very short life. It was all because of the forbidden file on her Omni-tool, a single audio file she had collected from a Geth Trooper unit's memory core. It had been a fluke to find Geth in the Crescent Nebula and on an abandoned planet, let alone to collect information from its Data Core without it exploding in your face. But she had done it and been so proud of herself at the time, for the short time that it had lasted. No, instead it had been a curse that had led to the deaths of her crew and kin.

She was the only survivor now, the rest of the crew of the Honorata all dead. It should have been a simple journey from the Migrant Fleet to Illium, but no, they'd been killed. Only herself and Keenah'Breizh had survived the ambush to reach the Citadel, and he had died less than an hour ago, gunned down by the hitmen she'd only escaped through a miracle. But she knew they weren't even the worst thing that would be coming for her once it was clear she had gotten away. No, she knew who had killed her crewmates and who still hunted her even now. The same person that had sent a group of Asari Commandos and a mercenary by the name of Jacobus to murder her, and she knew they would never stop. She was surrounded on all sides by enemies that she couldn't defeat, she had nowhere to hide, and she wasn't entirely sure why she had fought so hard to survive in the first place. It was a hopeless situation, and she would be better off just rolling over in exchange for a quick death, but…But-

But she didn't want to die-!

She needed protection, more than her meager amount of credits could afford. Well, she had information so valuable dozens of people were willing to kill her over it, so maybe she could trade it. But who would be able to contend with an Asari Matriarch and her personal hit squad?

Her mind may have been a muddled mess from blood loss and she might have been slightly delirious from pain, but she was still coherent enough to know that she was in deep and dangerous waters at the moment. She needed a way out, a way to force them back to keep herself safe. Going to the government was out of the question: The Matriarch would have her killed within minutes. No, with the way things were panning out, she either needed a small private army or an anomaly to protect her!

The attack on Eden Prime had been orchestrated by a supposedly rogue Spectre that had been captured and taken into custody of the Council. But there had to be more to it when an Asari Matriarch was in league with an unknown man who promised the return of "the Reapers", along with the destruction of the Anomalies. These things may have seemed strange and unconnected, but evidence like this could bury every single person involved.

Evidence damning them all for instigating war, and even planning genocide.

But one thing stood out above all, something that Tali had latched onto, no matter how small it seemed at first. A single name had been revealed, one that would change the course of everything. It might finally give perspective to the issues that had been plaguing the galaxy for years now. Those unanswered questions that festered in the back of everyone's mind, when light was finally shed on them surely, they would burst and rip apart everything.

How strange. A single word could do that? It had to have some significance to the humans. For it was nothing but a word, and yet that word was everything when it graced the very beings you worshiped with a name.

Shinigami.

This unexpected twist! How does she know the name! Well, I ain't telling, that comes later and I know you will enjoy it.