March 22nd 2184 CE
Butler's training was progressing nicely. For an old fart, the man could move surprisingly fast. He wouldn't serve as a heavy hitter by any means. But what he lacked in combat prowess, he made up for with sheer determination. That man was resolute when it came to avenging his family, not that Garrus could blame him. If some scum had taken out Solona or his parents like that, he'd beat them within an inch of their lives before feeding them their own testicles.
The trio began cleaning up the streets as a team. Lying in wait for muggers and red sand dealers became part of their daily routine as it provided good practice for Frank. He needed to sharpen his teeth on soft targets and Garrus had to be certain Butler was backed up at every turn in case things went sour. Their activities also padded their bottom line as he didn't see the harm in rifling through sand dealers pockets' once they were dead.
During a regular patrol in the Kenzo District, they stumbled onto a group of batarians beating one of their own senseless. The gang of six dragged him into the street and huddled around his limp form, kicking and hurling insults. Garrus and his team were safely out of view, hidden in the catwalks above.
"Low caste cunt." A batarian slurred. "Shoulda put him out of his misery ages ago."
"Didn't think we'd recognize you?"
They pulled the wounded batarian's head back as if they expected an answer. Blood poured from his mouth. For a moment, their eyes locked and Garrus could see the desperation, the plea for help in all four black, beady little windows.
"We're intervening." He whispered. "Ripper, you're with me. We're dropping in hot. Expect close quarters combat. Frank, I want you to remain here. Take shots where you're able but let us do the heavy lifting."
Garrus landed directly on top of the first asshole, letting his weight do most of the work. With a sickening crack, the batarian buckled. And Garrus finished him off with a quick round to the head. Before the others could react, he snatched the closest to him and proceeded to use the man as a live shield while firing into the fray. When there was a break in gunfire, Ripper leaped, one hand wielding a shotgun the other slicing through soft flesh with his glowing omni-tool.
"Got one!" Frank hollered triumphantly over the coms as the last hostile fell to the ground.
"Keep it in your pants Frank." Ripper snarked.
"A headshot." Garrus nodded. "Good work everyone. Now let's see what we have." The batarian in question was badly wounded, laying still as a statue. "Spirits, he's barely breathing."
"Whaddya think he did?" Ripper strode up next to him. "Only batarians I ever knew was in the Suns. But I never saw 'em go after one of their own before."
"Doesn't matter." Garrus waved his hand dismissively. "He'll be dead within the hour if we don't get him to a doctor. We're heading to the Gozu District. I know a guy. I'll take point, you two are going to have to carry him."
Frank groaned. "If someone told me I was gonna kill my back for a batarian last week, I'd have laughed in their face."
"You can't always judge an individual by their species, Butler. A good friend taught me that. Hell, I wound up friends with a krogan as a result." Garrus chuckled to himself. As his squad hoisted up their wounded cargo, his mind wandered to The Normandy's crew. Where were they now? How were they doing? Maybe he should shoot them an email later when they were back home. And that was the odd thing, over the past month, he started considering their base of operations home. That was in no small part due to Nalah's efforts. The day after Frank joined, she waltzed in and began cleaning, organizing, and decorating. She insisted on completing the menial tasks such as cooking and laundry. It was her way of contributing she'd said. That woman had a heart of gold, and brought a softer touch to their grisly work.
Just as before, a squadron of mechs greeted them at the entrance to the clinic. Garrus removed his helmet and strode confidently up to the camera. "Hey! Remember me? I've got another one for you to fix up doc." He gestured to the limp batarian his squad was setting down.
Since his last visit, Garrus had done extensive reconnaissance on the enigmatic doctor. A couple weeks back, he came to the Gozu district alone, hoping to offer the clinic protection. Instead, he wound up witnessing an armed standoff between the salarian who ran the clinic and several Blue Suns trying to squeeze him for protection money. The doctor gunned them down in a manner of seconds. Given that they were turians, well armored, and clearly ready for a fight Garrus was impressed. Then the doctor decapitated them and set their heads on pikes. After that, he made sure he and his men steered clear of the entire district.
"Yes. Yes. Remember you. Come in. Bring him to the back. Assistant asleep."
The doors to the clinic hissed open.
"Alright guys. He may seem friendly. But this guy is no joke. Keep your weapons secured. Yet watch for my signal, just in case." Garrus whispered.
"Wouldn't that mean the opposite?" Butler responded incredulously. "If he's trouble, we should have our guns out and ready right?"
"Not this guy. There's a reason we don't bother with the Gozu District. Let's just say he has things under control."
"You're the boss. But I gots to say, I don't like walkin' into anythin' with my gun holstered." Ripper ran a hand through his curls, a gesture Garrus had learned translated to nervousness.
"He won't harm us unless we give him reason to. And if he gives us reason, I'm ready and I have your backs."
The clinic was dark, ominous. Their feet echoed on the hard, lonely ground. It certainly did nothing to help his men's morale. Garrus could practically feel them tense as they made their way down a long, narrow hallway. Suddenly a door to their right burst open, and they were practically blinded as light poured in.
"In here! In here!" The salarian called. "Place patient on exam table." They obliged, setting the limp body down on the only flat surface in the room.
Garrus watched intently as his long, nimble fingers flew over the batarian. Working at a remarkable pace, the doctor began patching various wounds and applying medication via his omni-tool. He was finished within minutes.
"Should be fine. Should be fine. Administered analgesic. Will be sedated as result. Friend of yours Archangel?"
Garrus stiffened. "You've heard of me?"
"Vigilante taking out dangerous people." The salarian nodded vigorously to convey his approval. "Active in Kima, Kenzo, and more recently Zeta District. Many patients are fans. Tell me of your exploits. Most entertaining." A grin ghosted across his face, reaching his large, alien eyes. He blinked and inhaled deeply before abruptly returning to his makeshift lab.
"Can't say I know the guy. He was taking a beating. We intervened."
"Surprising. Turian – Batarian relations strained. Have recruited human squad. Human – Batarian relations even worse."
"Yeah. Well, the assholes take us as slaves!" Frank blurted.
"Exactly. Very surprising. But welcome. Now, need to synthesize antibiotic for scale itch. Rampant on station. Implications troubling."
"We'll get out of your way doctor." As Garrus motioned for his squad to leave, he could feel those immense, alien eyes on him, studying him. It made his plates itch. Something he had said earned the doctor's intense focus. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.