Author's Note: All right, likely the last entry of 2015 for me. Thanks as always to those who have read/faved/followed, with shout outs to: Madcat Capers, Drummerchick 7, Viedyn, Soirreb, What Ithacas Mean, wyles77, & the still anonymous Guest!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone!
2179 CE, Arcturus Station, Finnegan's Pub
"There they are."
Talia let her hand drop to the small of Leliana's back, guiding her around the edge of the dance floor toward the table in the back. The redhead walked beside her, just close enough to feel the heat where hip brushed against thigh, awareness dancing along the marine's nerve endings, simmering in her blood. The faint smile on the full lips made it clear that Leliana knew damn good and well the effect she was having; the even fainter flush of her cheeks, almost lost in the play of light and shadow in the club, made it equally clear that she felt it, too.
Soon, Talia promised herself, not for the first time. Or the second.
"T.C., Leli," Erin greeted them as they claimed the two empty chairs at the table.
"Shep," Talia replied in turn, feeling Leliana shift ever so slightly until their thighs were touching beneath the table. "Al ..." She trailed off expectantly.
"This is Erica," he filled in helpfully, smiling at the busty blonde at his side. "Erica, this is Talia and Leliana."
"With a 'k'," Erica – Erika – clarified in a breathy, little-girl voice that had Talia digging her nails into her leg. He was her buddy and she loved him, but his penchant for women with IQ's that were roughly equal to their bra sizes drove her apeshit sometimes. Most of the time. All the fucking time, all right?
"Pleased to meet you," she lied politely.
"Are you all N7?" Erika asked, baby blues wide, and Talia shaved another ten IQ points off of her estimate.
"I'm not." Leliana gave her a warm smile, her hand finding Talia's and coaxing it into releasing its deathgrip on the quadriceps muscle, then lacing their fingers together. Immediately, Talia felt her blood pressure start to drop. "I'm a journalist."
"A reporter," Talia clarified, seeing Erika's brow furrow in confusion. "A writer." She couldn't think of anything less than two syllables.
"Oh. That's nice," Erika said, not bothering to feign interest before adding brightly, "I'm a dancer! At Eclipse." A dive in the clubbing quarter that was famous for never hiring anyone with less than a D-cup. Fuck, this was going to be a long night.
"That is so fascinating!" Leliana beamed at her with what appeared to be genuine enthusiasm. She gave Talia's hand a quick squeeze before releasing it and standing. "I'd love to hear all about it while we're ordering drinks." She glanced from Talia to Erin to Alistair. "Black and tan, double-malt scotch on the rocks, tequila with salt and lime?"
"Perfect," Shepard told her.
"What's a black and tan?" Erika chirped, bouncing to her feet to follow.
Fortunately, between the music and the chatter from the surrounding tables, it didn't take them long to move out of earshot.
"Fucking Eclipse?" Talia demanded, glaring at Alistair.
"What? I just dropped in for a drink," he replied defensively.
"You got screwed, then," Erin informed him. Rumor had it that when the water had been cut off for nonpayment, the bartender had watered down the drinks by pissing in them, and no one had noticed.
"Yes, I did." His beatific smile was ear to ear. "Several times, in fact."
"Spare us the details," Talia said, holding up a restraining hand. The good news was, his bimbos never lasted more than a week or two; the bad news was, they were all pretty much interchangeable. "Where's Casey?" This was directed to Shepard, who shrugged.
"Didn't work out," she said simply, not looking particularly devastated by the admission. She didn't go for bimbos – or himbos – but her relationships rarely outlived Alistair's. Not too many men or women were interested in playing second fiddle to a military career.
"Damn. Sorry." Alistair looked genuinely sympathetic, but then he brightened. "But Erika's got a friend -"
"Dude, some of us have standards," Talia reminded him before he got into measurements.
He looked injured. "I have standards."
She regarded him skeptically. "Tits and a pulse?"
He grinned, unrepentant. "They're standards." The grin turned to a leer. "And some of us like details." He leaned forward, regarding her expectantly. "So … spill."
"Nothing to spill," Talia told him with a shrug, but he eyed her suspiciously.
"You mean you haven't ..." He trailed off, hands gesturing vaguely.
"Nope." Talia was trying hard to be casual, but he wasn't buying it.
"In three months?" He stared at her in disbelief. "What have you been doing?"
"We talk."
"Talk?" He frowned, turning the word over as though it were in another language.
"Yes, talk," she shot back, glaring at him in exasperation. "It's an activity engaged in by higher primates who have more than two brain cells to rub together. Try it sometime."
"I talk to you guys," he replied defensively.
"Probably the only reason you haven't forgotten how," Talia retorted.
Erin had been silent, green eyes studying Talia. She spoke up now. "Shit, T.C., you've got it bad, don't you?"
"Got what?" Alistair asked, then his eyes widened. "No way! Seriously?"
"No!" Talia snapped. Shepard just watched her. "Maybe," she muttered, looking away. At the bar, Erika was chattering animatedly at Leliana, who was listening attentively. Her eyes cut briefly to Talia's; she smiled, and the marine felt the now familiar prickle of warmth across her skin, the answering smile coming easily to her lips. "I dunno," she said at last, shrugging. "It's different with her, that's all."
"But … no sex?" Alistair couldn't seem to wrap his mind around that, and when it came down to it, Talia couldn't blame him. She'd never been one for holding back before, but it had been three months since their first dance. Three months and half a dozen missions: most of them no more than a couple of days, one of them a full two weeks. Three months in which she had seen no one else, felt no urge to see anyone else, but while her down time, when she wasn't with Erin and Al, was spent almost exclusively with Leliana, they had gone no further than heated but carefully controlled kisses.
"It's not that difficult," Shepard told him dryly before turning her eyes back to Talia. "What do you talk about?" There was genuine interest in the question, but her friend didn't try to hide the underlying caution.
"Lots of things," Talia replied with another shrug. "Akuze and Mindoir, missions. Not the classified stuff," she added sharply, seeing their expressions. She wasn't some FNG, for Christ's sake. "Like when we lost Taylor on Mavigon." She hadn't been as close to Jory Taylor as she was to these two, but in small unit actions typical of N7, any death hit close to home. "Or Jackson getting hit on by that hanar." It wasn't all death and destruction, and if the good times didn't bond them quite as tightly as the bad, they were still a hell of a lot easier to take. "She's easy to talk to."
"She's a reporter," Alistair reminded her. "And she wants a story on you."
"I know that," Talia shot back, trying not to sound defensive. "She told me she wouldn't publish anything without my permission, and she hasn't. She thinks we can find out more about what happened on Akuze."
"A-ha!" Alistair leaned forward, expression triumphant. "That's her angle! She's after some exclusive exposé!"
She didn't punch him, but it was a near thing. "You knew she was a reporter when you were throwing me at her!" she snapped irritably. "You didn't have a problem with it then!"
"That was because -" He broke off, eyes darting between her and Shepard warily. "Why no sex?" he blurted, cringing in anticipation.
They weren't about to disappoint. Erin's headslap caught him high right, Talia's low and left. "This is why they recommend neutering," she grumbled to Shepard.
"True," Erin agreed, but her green eyes were serious as she went on. "It is a pretty big change for you, though. You're not exactly the slow and easy type."
"I know, I know," Talia growled. "It's not about slow and easy, though." Her gaze snapped to Alistair, waiting for a wisecrack, but he'd apparently gotten all the stupid out of his system for the moment, and now he just waited, watching her curiously. "It started out like a game, seeing who would cave first. She's hot and she knows it; I figured I'd see how she dealt with someone who didn't try to get her into bed … and then she did the same thing to me. Now -" She broke off, trying to figure out how to articulate the unspoken agreement between her and the redhead. "It's like we're both just letting it build." Just talking about it, thinking about it, was enough to set the heat swirling beneath her skin, pulsing low in her belly. "Like placing shape charges, setting them up for maximum effect."
"That's one hell of a detonation you're building towards," Erin observed, quirking a grin. "I've seen you two dance."
"Yeah." Talia felt her cheeks flushing at the admission, and not entirely from embarrassment. Dancing was the sole outlet for the sexual tension that charged the spaces between them until it felt nearly incandescent. The sight of Leliana on the dance floor, the press of her body, the teasing kisses and touches … it all left Talia's head spinning, pulse hammering, body aching with raw want, and Leli felt it, too. She wasn't imagining the fire in those blue eyes … was she?
"If you're happy, T.C., that's all that matters," Erin told her, looking pointedly at Alistair, who nodded vigorously.
"Just wanted to make sure, that's all," he said earnestly. "I mean, she checked out and all, but -" Realizing what he had just said, he winced and flinched again, this time ahead of a single pop upside the head from Erin.
"You ran a background on her?" Talia asked, more amused than annoyed. She'd likely have done the same for either of them.
"Yeah." Shepard looked rueful. "Look, I'm sorry, T.C., but -"
"Don't be," Talia told her. "I did the same thing before I talked to her the second time. She knows," she added, "and she's clean." Born in the agricultural colony of New Cherbourg, father killed in a terraforming accident when she was a baby, mother died of an aneurysm when she was ten, taken in and raised by the wealthy patron who had funded the colony, educated in some of the best schools on Earth, solid CV as an investigative journalist, including embedded assignments with military units. They'd talked about that, too. Christ, what hadn't they talked about?
Shepard accepted this with a nod. "All good, then. I'm happy for you."
The words, and the smile that accompanied them, were sincere, and Talia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Shit, it's not like we're picking out curtains or anything," she protested. "It's just -"
"Here you go." Her black and tan was set before her, scotch on the rocks to Erin, and then Leliana slid back into her seat, a glass of wine in her hand.
"Have a nice chat?" Alistair asked, smiling indulgently at Erika as she sat down with two shot glasses of tequila, a bowl of lime slices and a salt shaker.
"We did." The smile that Leliana gave him was a shade too bright, and the glance that she exchanged with the blonde was positively wicked, so Talia had a bit of warning before she continued. "Did you know that Erika has a masters degree in xenocultural studies from Harvard?"
"Yes, I – wait … what?" The indulgent smile was exchanged for a poleaxed expression as he looked at his companion. "You – you do?"
She nodded. "Yes." The little-girl voice was gone; her voice was a bit high pitched but full of confidence as she went on. "I'm working on my doctoral thesis now: Sexual Dynamics Of Cross-Species Interactions In An Enclosed Artificial Environment." The syllables rolled off her tongue with nary a stutter, blue eyes shooting Talia a mischief-filled look.
"I'll be damned," Shep marveled, a grin spreading over her face.
Talia didn't bother fighting her own smile. She could admit when she'd been played. "You minor in theater?" she wanted to know. "What's with the act?"
Erika shrugged. "The dancing pays well, leaves me plenty of time free for my research." Her pretty features took on a resigned expression. "And most guys I've met turn and run when they find out I've got a 160 IQ." She gave Alistair a winsome smile. "Leliana assures me that you're more open minded than that, though."
"Me?" His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and the look he gave Leliana was almost pathetically grateful. "Oh, I am! I am!" He sat up straighter, confidence returning, smiling back at Erika. "Absolutely."
"How did you figure it out?" Talia asked as she followed Leliana onto the dance floor. She had to lean close to be heard over the music, but she didn't mind that in the slightest.
"When you told her I was a reporter, then a writer," Leliana replied, turning her head slightly so that her hair brushed against Talia's cheek, the delicate floral perfume that she favored sweet in the air. "You could see in her eyes, deciding how dumb she should pretend to be."
"You could see it, anyway." Talia had missed it completely, and she felt like almost as big an ass as Alistair (who had admittedly made a nice subsequent recovery and looked well on his way to some intelligent pillow-talk later tonight).
"I figured your attention might be elsewhere," Leliana teased her, stepping away and turning to face Talia as she began to move to the music.
"Not really." Talia joined her. She was a better dancer than Shepard (who wasn't?) though probably not as good as Alistair. Not quite as good as she'd been before Akuze, but the cybernetics designers were damn good at their work, and she was rapidly closing in on the last of the ground she'd lost along with her left leg just above the knee. "Not my type." Apart from the usual 'real or implants?' internal debate that she figured everybody had at first sight, she just wasn't into large breasts. Perfectly proportioned curves were her preference, and she was currently graced with the company of a sterling example in mesmerizing motion. No contest.
"Lucky me." The coy look that Leliana gave her announced that their game was on again, and Talia stepped close, their bodies swaying together, bending to claim a kiss: a teasing brush of lips, the lightest flicker of a tongue against hers, then back out.
"How'd you get her to tell you about it?"
"I listened," the redhead replied with a shrug. "That's all most people really need to be willing to talk."
"You're good at that." Talia knew from experience just how good, how easy it was to share her thoughts with the blue eyes watching her attentively without a hint of judgment, the questions and comments that proved that she'd really been listening, not just sitting there nodding. Part of the reason she'd been content to let their game drag out so long was that she didn't want to lose that. Didn't want their connection to be simply physical. Which, if she thought about it too much, scared the hell out of her, so she made a point of not thinking about it too much.
"I'm a woman of many talents," Leliana agreed, her smile becoming sultry as she turned a slow, undulating circle that put one of those talents on a display that went straight to a certain N7 marine's groin.
Talia stepped in again, wrapping her arms around the slender waist and drawing Leliana back until their bodies were flush. "You're playing with fire," she warned her in a low growl, nipping lightly at the curve of her ear.
"I like the heat," Leliana countered without hesitation, leaning into her and tipping her head back until it rested on the taller woman's shoulder, one hand covering Talia's at her waist, while the other slipped upward, curling behind Talia's neck and pulling her down into a kiss that sent the temperature soaring into the stratosphere.
"You and me both," Talia managed when they came up for air. She didn't give herself time to overthink it. "You ready to turn it up?"
Leliana turned in her embrace, both hands coming together behind Talia's neck, fingers toying with a bit of hair that had escaped her braid. "I was beginning to think you'd never ask, Lieutenant," she breathed, smiling up at her. "Your place or mine?"
"Pretty sure your bed will be more comfortable," Talia told her. The fact that she could fall asleep damn near anywhere was due at least in part to so many years of doing so on Alliance-issue cots.
"What makes you think we'll make it that far?" Leliana's words were teasing, but beneath the mirth, the desire in those blue eyes mirrored the fire in Talia's blood that was rising toward supernova. Definitely time to go.
"Let's get -" The words cut off as cleanly as by the sweep of an omni-blade as a familiar vibration thrummed through her left arm, followed by a high-pitched signal modulated to cut through the music of the rowdiest nightclub. Nor was it the basic report-to-duty tone, but the alternating ululation of a Level 4 recall: the highest priority. Big time shit was hitting the fan somewhere, and for the first time in her military career, Talia Cousland was pissed off at that fact.
"Son of a bitch!" Talia jerked upright, glaring around until she found first Shepard, then Alistair in the crowd, each of them likewise looking for her, Erin tapping her own omni-tool as soon as they locked eyes. Almost immediately, frustration was tempered by elation; they didn't always draw the same missions, but this time, the Wolfpack was going on the hunt.
"Duty calls?" Talia turned back to Leliana. The redhead looked more amused by her discomfiture than anything, but there was an underlying seriousness in her eyes, as well. She'd likely heard a Level 4 tone before.
"Yeah," Talia answered shortly, her head already switching gears, pitching libido into the trunk, feeling the first surge of adrenaline hitting her system. "Gotta go." Things to do, assholes to kill. "Sorry." And she was, but if she'd actually been given a choice right now, there was no doubt which way she'd go; it was who she was.
"You'll be careful?" Leliana asked her.
"No worries," Talia responded with an easy grin. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil -"
" - for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley," Shepard finished for her, with a wink and a smile for both Leliana and Erika, who was beside Alistair looking anxious. "I'll bring them both back in one piece, ladies. I promise."
The blonde tugged Al down into a kiss, and a gentle pressure on Talia's arm turned her back to meet the solemn regard of blue eyes.
"Be careful," Leliana repeated softly, stepping close and standing on tiptoe, the kiss gentle, the warmth and worry in her expression enough to forestall another flippant response.
"I'll be careful," she replied, wrapping her arms around the redhead's waist. "Raincheck?"
"I'll be waiting," Leliana promised, drawing her down into a final kiss, deep and slow and filled with a very different kind of promise that – very briefly – pushed all thoughts of killing assholes out of her mind.
Shepard's not-so-subtle throat clearing brought her mind back to business, and she drew back. "Gotta go," she said again, but couldn't resist leaning in to steal a last, quick kiss before turning to follow Shepard.
"Look at it this way," Alistair consoled her, slinging a comradely arm around her shoulders as they worked their way toward the door. "Sex after battle is the best kind."
2185 CE, Normandy SR-2 in orbit over Hagalaz
"So -" Jack hit the floor, rolled, came up. "You fucked her, then she screwed you." Her right hand shot out, palm forward, hurling a shockwave that rolled across the cargo bay.
Too wide to dodge completely, so Talia dove for the edge and moved with the impact, letting it tumble her back until she was out of the area of effect. "Pretty much sums it up," she grunted, regaining her feet. That was all it had been: fucking. No matter what the dumbass kid she had been had thought at the time.
Biotics, even the strongest ones, had a refractory period after unleashing a mass effect field, and Talia closed with her opponent now. Unlike a lot of biotics, Jack was almost equally adept at mixing it up hand-to-hand, which was why she had quickly become Talia's favorite sparring partner on the ship, with Grunt a close second.
"Then she starts feeling guilty." Jack dodged one punch, grunted as another connected, threw a right cross that Talia ducked. "Decides to help this Liara save Shep, then gets her ass caught by the Shadow Broker." Recovering, she threw Talia back, then pitched another shockwave.
"Right again." This one was narrower, and Talia managed to dive out of its path, then came back for more.
"You guys saved her, killed the Shadow Broker, and the asari is taking over."
"Yup." Further conversation ceased as they both threw themselves into the bout, the only sounds the hiss of breath and the grunts when a fist or foot connected with its target. It undoubtedly looked violent as hell from the outside, but in reality, neither combatant was unleashing even a fraction of their potential. They'd gone no-holds-barred in their very first match, but while they had both emerged from it grinning ear to ear, there had been enough fractures and lacerations that Dr. Chakwas had threatened to have them both kept in stasis between missions if there were a repeat.
Just meant they had to go at it longer to get a good workout, and they'd both worked up a good sweat by the time they called it. Talia had a split lip, and Jack was sporting a black eye, but those were an easy fix with a bit of medigel.
"And now she's crashing in your bunk?" Jack tipped her head back, chugging three packs of the biotic replenishing formula in quick succession. Scientifically formulated with electrolytes, amino acids and vitamins, they tasted like shit, but apparently worked.
Talia nodded and bent to grab her towel, wiping off her hands and face, then draping it around her neck. "Doc Chakwas asked me," she said with a shrug. Even Shepard would have gotten a 'Fuck off' with that request, but Karin didn't lightly use the influence she had with Talia, which meant that the marine generally acceded when she did. It wasn't like she was asking her to sleep in the same room, right?
"Shit." The biotic shook her head in disgust, but said no more. The no-nonsense physician had earned respect, and was behind only Shepard and Talia in the ex-con's regard (though she wouldn't ever put it in anything close to those terms). "She know?"
"Not from me," Talia replied, "but not like it was a secret when it hit the fan." One of the Alliance's best and brightest shacking up with an agent for the Shadow Broker and spilling secrets had gone over like a pregnant pole-vaulter at HQ. Talia had narrowly missed a court-martial and dishonorable discharge, and she'd been on the shit list for nearly a year after, until she'd taken out a nest of batarian slavers single-handed, nearly getting killed in the process. "Alistair might have told her, too. Miranda knows." That still pissed her off.
The rude noise from Jack came right on cue. "He's not hoping to get pussy from the doc," she sneered. "Not that he'd stand a chance if he was." Al hadn't really known what to make of the tattooed, belligerent prisoner they'd taken off of Purgatory … so naturally, he'd made a pass at her. It hadn't gone well, and he'd kept a wary distance after. Between that and the fact that he was not quite sleeping with Miranda, it didn't seem likely that he and Jack were going to be bosom buddies any time soon.
"She probably heard the scuttlebutt when it went down," Talia reasoned. She knew that Alistair, despite appearances, thought about more than getting laid; he hadn't dealt with the batarians in the Skyllian Blitz by shagging them. But she was currently in no mood to play peacemaker.
"So, where you sleeping?" Jack asked, nodding toward the bag that Talia was carrying as they headed for the showers. She'd grabbed a change of clothes and gotten the hell out of her quarters as soon as she'd finished talking to the doc. E.D.I. could handle recon and give her the all-clear for resupply runs.
"That an offer?" Talia joked, making a show of scoping out the other woman's ass as they stripped down. What she could see of it, anyway; the tatts covered most of the real estate.
"Yeah, right," Jack snorted. She didn't swing that way and they both knew it, which was why Talia could get away with the joke and keep her head on her shoulders. "You want the table or the floor?"
"Harsh." Talia ducked under one of the nozzles, lathering up briskly. She might no longer be operating under Alliance regs, but old habits died hard, and long showers were for things that she had no intention of thinking about.
"Don't get me wrong, Cousland," Jack added, looking her up and down appraisingly. "If you were a guy, I'd totally do you."
"Damn, Jack, that was almost sweet," Talia marveled, "and if you were a chick, I'd totally do you."
"Bitch."
"Psycho."
All said with the utmost mutual respect and gruff affection, mind you. Jack got her, in a way that even Erin and Alistair didn't. The biotic knew that sometimes, you had to let the hate loose, dance with it a bit, show the fucker that you weren't afraid, to keep it from burning you up from the inside out. And Talia had hate to burn, from Mindoir onward. Killing batarians and other assholes for pay kept it sated most of the time, but she couldn't shoot her way out of the current situation. The sparring session had taken the edge off, and the familiar bullshit banter smoothed things out even further.
"Seriously, though," Jack said as they were toweling off, "if you need floor space, it's no problem."
The offer was casually made and undoubtedly genuine, but Talia knew it was no small concession from someone who had been violated in pretty much every way possible and who valued their privacy and space.
She shook her head. "Figured I'd just crash in the shuttle," she said with a shrug, making sure that her left arm and leg were thoroughly dry, along with the eyepatch. The prosthetics were waterproof – she'd proved that on multiple occasions – but preventive maintenance was one of the things that saved asses when shit got real. "The bench seat's got plenty of room to stretch out. I can just pretend I'm on a drop, sleep like a baby."
Jack accepted this with a nod. "Then what?" she wanted to know.
Talia knew what she was asking. "Then we either leave her with Liara or drop her off on the Citadel or Omega, I get my bunk back, and we go kick some Collector ass." End of story.
"And then it's Cerberus' turn."
"Damn right." Talia mirrored Jack's feral grin. They both owed that particular organization one hell of a lot of payback, and as soon as their current mission was complete, collections would commence. She figured the Illusive Man knew it, which was why she never worried about speaking her mind on a ship that was likely bugged from stem to stern. There was a perverse pleasure in letting him know exactly what she intended to do to him and his flunkies. Sure, he was likely planning on offing them as soon as the Collectors had been dealt with; she fully expected it, and whoever tried it would be the first installment. For Alistair's sake, she hoped that Miranda had more sense.
"All right, then." Satisfied, Jack pulled on what passed for clothes with her while Talia opted for the loose-fitting shorts and t-shirt that served as pajamas, tossing the towel over one shoulder as they left the showers and headed for the elevator.
"Talia?" Garrus' voice came over the comm unit embedded in her omni-tool. If she ever decided to really go off grid, she was going to have to do something about her Swiss Army Arm, as Alistair had dubbed it, but she'd deal with that when she needed to. There were probably tracking chips planted in every piece of hardware on her body; the Alliance liked to keep track of its investments. Miranda could likely help her find and disable them, but she wasn't anywhere near that desperate yet. "You have a minute? Jacob and I have something in the armory you might be interested in."
Jack's lip had curled into a sneer of contempt at mention of Jacob, so Talia didn't bother asking if she wanted to come along, dropping her off on the Engineering deck before heading up to the command deck. Another plus to being out from under the Alliance chain of command: no one looked twice if one of the officers happened to be out of uniform.
"What've you got?" she asked as she strode into the armory. She still didn't like the setup: sticking it up on the damn command deck instead of down in the hangar where it had been in the SR-1, but there was no denying they had upgraded the hell out of it. Plenty of room to work, and plenty of tools – and weapons – to work with, including toys that even N7 hadn't had access to.
Garrus and Jacob were bent over one of the workbenches; the turian glanced up and waved her over. "Take a look," he invited her. "Found it on the Shadow Broker's ship. Looks like a prototype they were trying to reverse engineer."
Talia studied the find as she approached. The basic lines were familiar enough to someone who made a living with firearms: stock, barrel, scope, bipod, trigger, but the receiver was bulkier than it should have been, the design vaguely familiar.
She blinked. "Is that a rail gun?" she asked, reaching out to touch the rifle, trigger finger itching, already fascinated. Portable versions of the electromagnetic weapons were theoretically possible, but expensive as hell, which meant that the average grunt would never lay eyes on one, much less get to fire it.
"Yup," Jacob confirmed. "With a built in mass effect generator." He tapped the front portion of the frame. "Adjusts the projectile mass either way."
"Jesus," Talia murmured reverently, picking it up. Definitely heavier than the Black Widow, but with the velocity boost of the rail gun, combined with the ability to tweak the payload mass to maximize range or impact, the tradeoff was a no brainer. "You fired it yet?"
Garrus shook his head. "Figured a hole in the hull might make Shepard grumpy. I was planning on testing it on the next planet -"
"You? C'mon." Talia shook her head, lifting the rifle into position, sighting down the scope. "A weapon this fine needs somebody who can shoot." She still wasn't quite used to not being the only sniper on Shepard's squad, but she remained supremely confident that she was the best.
"That was exactly what I was thinking." Garrus, of course, had his own opinions on the matter. "I mean, since I found it."
"After I cleared the ship of everything that moved," Talia reminded him. "Including a yahg."
"With help!"
"Not yours!"
"Hey, now." Ever the peacemaker, Jacob stepped in. "How about we settle this like civilized species?"
"As opposed to beating the crap out of each other?" Talia asked, mostly in jest. She actually rather liked the turian; he'd more than proved himself during the hunt for Saren, and anybody who could piss off every major criminal group on Omega enough to unite against him was someone she wanted on her side. But still, if this rifle was what it looked to be … "All right." She laid it back on the bench, held out her right hand, fingers curled into a fist, waiting for Garrus to do the same.
"Ready?" Jacob took on the role of referee. "One … two … three!"
"I win," Talia announced, looking at her closed fist with satisfaction.
"Paper covers rock!" Garrus protested.
"Yes, it does," Talia agreed, "but you had your thumb tucked in, and rock breaks scissors." He'd slid that by a couple of times before she'd realized that he wasn't as clueless about the ritual as he let on.
"Your thumb was tucked in, Garrus," Jacob spoke up.
"Fine," Garrus pouted, "but if we figure out how to reverse engineer it, I get the first one made."
"Fair enough," Talia conceded, scooping up her prize, turning it this way and that, studying the design. "Shit, I wish Tali was here."
"That makes two of us," Garrus agreed wistfully. "We'd have had all the repairs to that ship done by now."
"Kenneth and Gabby are -"
" - not quarians," Talia finished, giving Jacob a pointed side-eye. From what Shepard had said, she was pretty damn sure that the reason that Tali'zorah hadn't joined back up when they'd met her at Freedom's Progress had been because of the presence of Cerberus. Jacob was solid enough in a fight, but he'd plainly been drinking too much of the Illusive Man's kool-aid. He was, however, sane enough to know not to try to argue the merits of the organization with Talia, so he simply nodded silently, conceding the point.
Normally, she'd have taken the rifle back to her quarters to gloat over. That not being an option, she stowed it in her locker beside the trusty Black Widow before heading down to her temporary crash pad. The hangar was deserted, the Kodiak and Hammerhead (a piss-poor replacement for the Mako, in Talia's opinion) sitting silent in their places. She ducked into the shuttle, closing the door behind her. Quiet, private, not much of a view, but it would do well enough for a couple of nights. Tossing her bag into the pillow position, she stretched out on the bench seat with a contented groan. Just a couple more nights, then they'd be leaving their guest wherever she needed to be, and things could go back to normal.
Author's Note - Use of modern phrasing and jargon in fantasy settings is a big immersion breaker when I'm reading & something that I take pains to avoid when I'm writing. It's been kinda fun to just let things flow with this one.
And I fixed the gaping hole at the end of the last chapter. Many thanks to Viedyn for pointing it out!
