Finally a chapter with weird action for you. Enjoy!
Chapter 5
"I can offer you something more fun than the blank shooting," Bailey began solemnly.
Kolesnikov showed interest. After saying goodbye to Shepard and agreeing with Mikhailovich about the support of the latter's fleet, the ambassador realized that he had absolutely nothing to do in the coming days. Unlike Udina, who liked to delay reports and other matters, he was used to immediately doing what needed to be done. It was better to sit in the office until the deep, artificially created night, but not to come the next day at all. Fortunately, there was no checkpoints in the Embassies, where he would be reprimanded for being two or three minutes late. And no one did warnings and reprimands for truancy.
"What could be more fun than a shooting range?"
"I suggest you take part in the investigation. You will both unwind and do some good to the Citadel. Usually, turians don't allow humans to more or less interesting things. They dump paperwork and patrolling at us. But I got to some facts myself and I'm not going to give the fruits of my labor to the turians."
"Tell me what you've found. How is humanity doing in the ranks of the C-Sec?"
"Listen and don't interrupt. I have been looking for someone who distributes red sand to clubs and bars for several months. I got on to volus, who often visits the Citadel."
"Then you could have caught him a long time ago. The volus are craven. If he is really guilty of something, then he will admit everything. Even what he doesn't know," Kolesnikov shared his thoughts.
"Don't teach a mother to replenish a family," Bailey replied without malice. "If only it were that simple. Volus arrives, sits for several hours in a bar at the docks, communicates with someone, then flies away with this "someone". His next visit happens in a few months. I have already tried to search his ship, but in vain. I only got a reprimand for an unauthorized search and a scandal from the volus ambassador. So here's what we've got: volus meets with an intermediary, each time a new one, by the way, takes him to an unknown system, transfers the goods and sends them to the Citadel. He himself goes into shadows for a certain time."
"So you decided to catch him?" Kolesnikov asked.
"Yes. Moreover, red-handed and during the cargo transfer. The person who is supposed to be the mediator this time is currently resting in the interrogation room. That is, he can't come to the meeting in any way," Bailey showed a graphic image of an unfamiliar man.
"A sturdy bastard," Kolesnikov commented.
"Seemingly yes. But actually a wuss. I pushed a little and he immediately cracked. He told me a lot of interesting things about this Niftu Cal. So what do you think? Don't you want to be a mediator and rid the Citadel of red sand? You can take a bodyguard to the meeting, so you will be under my protection."
"So you and I will be taken to an unfamiliar system on an unfamiliar ship to unfamiliar creatures?"
"That's right. Don't worry – we won't storm the place where we will be sent. We'll just find out the coordinates and go home. And then I'll figure it out myself."
"Let's say I agree. But won't the volus realize that the wrong person had come to meet him?"
"We look the same to them. I heard how the volus ambassador was surprised by our ridiculous appearance. After his eloquence, I even ran to check if I was as ugly as he sees me. However, let's not get distracted. We are the same to them. I can seriously say that you, Kolesnikov, are a freak and my opinion will be objective, since I understand the canons of human beauty.
"Then look for a handsome fool who will help you," the spy even was offended.
"I said just for example. Don't sulk. So, will you help?"
"Where to go and what to say?" Kolesnikov sighed.
"First, take off your clothes and put on something that does not betray you as a communist. Don't wear your armband either. If you can't live without it, shove it into your underpants or deeper. But keep it out of sight," Bailey scrutinized the ambassador's uniform. "And meet me at the docks."
Kolesnikov ordered tea, as the waiting was beginning to unnerve him. Neither Bailey, nor volus were here – such a good idea to get in touch with non-communists after that. Also, the tea did not resemble the usual drink at all. It was a sludge with an unpleasant shade, one of the liquid analyses. Although, judging by the taste, exactry they were poured for him. It remained only to find out what race they belonged to.
No sooner had Kolesnikov tasted the "tea" than volus materialized next to him, accompanied by several krogans. The spy, hardly hiding a smile, watched as a short chubby creature tried to climb onto a chair. After a few seconds of hesitation, he got up and helped the volus. Despite his short stature, the bastard turned out to be quite heavy.
"Sorry I'm late. There were some difficulties with landing permission," Volus nodded in the direction of the krogans. "And with them, too."
"Don't apologize," Kolesnikov replied, excruciatingly cursing Bailey's lateness. "My assistant, as you can see, is completely absent. And, unlike you, he probably won't even apologize when he comes."
"I sincerely apologize," Bailey said, sitting down on the next chair.
"If you're ready, let's start working," Volus said sternly. "But first check."
One of the krogans activated his omni-tool and waved his paw near Kolesnikov's face. The intel officer got angry. He could do it near the hand, but no – you need to shake your limbs right in front of the interlocutor's face.
After showing the data to the volus, the krogan stepped aside.
"It's all right," volus nodded. "Are you ready to go?"
"Not very far, I hope?" the spy could not restrain himself and immediately bit his tongue.
Niftu Cal said nothing, looking at the ambassador and Bailey. The helmet of the suit was not able to convey the emotional coloring of the look, but Kolesnikov could swear that he saw thoughtfulness in the sparkling eyes of the volus.
"Come on," he said at last.
He got off the chair much longer than he tried to climb. This time Kolesnikov did not try to help him. The krogans also silently watched their master's attempts, while Bailey stared around.
"Why were you late?" the spy whispered to Bailey as they headed for volus' ship.
"Later," the officer replied shortly.
On the ship, Niftu was silent, occasionally glancing sideways at the "mediator" and his bodyguard. Kolesnikov immediately had bad premonitions. But, on the other hand, he was now in the role of a violator of the law. Maybe criminals feel so uncomfortable every second. After checking the gun, just in case, the spy calmed down a little. The criminals hadn't yet taken away weapons from him and Bailey, and hadn't started beating and raping, which meant everything was not so bad.
After looking out the porthole at the starry expanses for a few minutes, Kolesnikov turned around. Seeing the krogan poking his pistol into Bailey's temple, the spy wanted to turn away again and look at the beauty beyond the window. Everything was peaceful and safe there. And then to close his eyes, and, after opening them, to find himself in his office. But something inside told him that the intel officer's unconcerned state wouldn't help Bailey. So he also had to take out a pistol and point it at the reptile, who was saying something to the officer.
"Drop your weapons, dear Ambassador," the volus said, coming closer. "There are more of us and we are much better armed."
Kolesnikov did not listen. The volus slowly reached the spy. In the next second, Kolesnikov felt a slight but palpable pain in his knee, which had suffered from a Cal's blow. The second uninjured leg really wanted to kick the bastard.
"It's not good to deceive," volus said, as if in justification.
"Is pointing a gun at a person good? Drive your krogan away from him," Kolesnikov ordered, pointing the pistol at the volus.
He was silent. The krogan didn't move either, waiting for instructions from Cal.
"I wonder if your government will pay a lot for its representative?" the volus said thoughtfully.
Kolesnikov looked at Bailey. Shifting his gaze back to volus, the spy noticed something resembling a spray can in his hand. However, he did not have time to figure out what it was. The reddish steam that came from this object made him close his eyes that were instantly watering. His lungs creaked with displeasure as soon as he inhaled this thing, and his legs became unexpectedly heavy. Falling to his knees, Kolesnikov made an attempt to crawl away from this red cloud and catch his breath. However, within a minute of his impotent attempts, the spy became so indifferent and calm that he simply lay on his back and closed his eyes.
"Kolesnikov, are we in heaven or hell?" the intel officer heard through the noise of his own consciousness.
"Is Udina here?" he asked in a slurred manner, trying to raise his head. Feeling a dull pain, Kolesnikov returned it to its initial, parallel to the floor position. Feeling like a hangover after a party. From dryness in the mouth, the tongue was rapidly gluing to the palate and did not want to move.
"I haven't seen him," said a voice that vaguely resembled Bailey's.
"Heaven, then," he replied.
A little clearer consciousness gave him a picture with the latest memory. Having come to his senses, Kolesnikov tried to get up again, holding his head, which, unexpectedly, became incredibly heavy. The bright dots that appeared when looking at something were annoying. Shaking his head, trying to drive them away, Kolesnikov looked around. Someone's caring hands dragged him and Bailey into what looked like a warehouse. Although, Kolesnikov picked up a better word "to the closet". Moreover, a typically Soviet one. Red tanks, representing an enlarged copy of what the brat-volus was carrying with him, shared room with meaningless and unfamiliar junk. The fact that the surrounding things were junk was confirmed by the smell.
"Only moth and a lonely single ski are missing. But for them I would have definitely said that I am in my homeland."
Bailey had already managed to get on all fours and was crawling towards Kolesnikov with a painful expression on his face.
"How long do you think we've been here?" he asked, sitting down next to the spy who was looking around.
"I'm much more interested in where your 'here' is," Kolesnikov replied.
"I haven't figured that out yet. But we are clearly not on the move. The ship's hum is not heard. So, we are on the ground. Or the ship is docked," Bailey shared his assumptions.
"The plating is not one of a ship," Kolesnikov nodded at the wall. "We are in some building, on some planet. And we've been here for a while, judging by your stubble."
"I would like to know what your "some" is," Bailey scratched his cheek. "So, we have a locked room filled with containers and cylinders with red sand, in which there are no windows, only one door and a small hole, apparently ventilation.
"I wonder why we have been unconscious for so long? If the dose of red sand was a single one, then there should clearly be no disconnection from life for several days," Kolesnikov looked around the room again.
Bailey followed his gaze and also stared at the vent. Overcoming the desire to lie down and take a nap for a couple more hours, Kolesnikov slowly crawled up to the wall. With some effort, he got up and squinted into the ventilation.
"That's how they feed us," Bailey pointed to a thin trickle of smoke that someone was kindly seeping into their "apartment". "How can we shut it up?"
Kolesnikov looked around. As luck would have it, there was nothing suitable in size. And if they started breaking things, then someone would definitely come to the noise and would certainly "tuck in their blankets" for a sounder sleep. Blanket... Kolesnikov smiled to himself. He shamefully took Bailey's advice and took the armband with him. Of course, he did not shove it as deep as his friend advised, but only into his pocket. But on the other hand, the need to tear clothes disappeared. He had to move the container for a long time, trying not to get under the lens of the camera located above the entrance. Although, the one who was watching them should have already come in, since they had been stirring for a long time. There was no one. Kolesnikov hoped that in the place where they were now, nap time had been officially introduced, and possible enemies are sleeping peacefully with their paws under cheeks.
Holding Bailey, who was shaking from the narcotic hungover, for his hind parts, Kolesnikov immediately came up with another reason why no one visited them. Surely they were polishing weapons, preparing a torture room and rolling with laughter, looking at the two losers in the monitors.
"By the way, my hands aren't shaking because I'm impressed by your ass," Kolesnikov said, glancing at Bailey's attempts to shove the bandage into the vent.
"And I'm not shaking with my whole body because I like men's hands," Bailey replied. "At least, I hope it's the consequences of red sand overdose. Although, I've been divorced for a long time… And if you can convince me that a man is better than a woman, and promise to be careful..."
"I promise to punch you in the teeth as soon as we get out," Kolesnikov assured.
"Why don't you punch me for the insult, and I'll punch you for the massage? So that everything was fair. Okay, hold on tight, I'm coming down," Bailey carefully got off the container. "What are we going to do next? Let me remind you that oxygen was supplied here along with the red sand. So we have to get out before we die from suffocation. Will there be any suggestions?"
"Just one thing. Attract security. Go under the camera, start crawling and yelling. And I'll wait for them here behind the box."
Kolesnikov wandered behind the container. After looking at the junk, he picked up a piece of hollow pipe.
"Progress does not stand still, but monkeys still walk with sticks. It's a pity that this pipe can't evolve into a rifle in a couple of minutes. The headache that comes from the anticipation of meeting the guards would not be so strong."
After enjoying the sight of Bailey crawling and mooing, the spy heard hurried footsteps outside the door. It was not an old watchman who was heading towards them, judging by the echoes of obviously heavy footsteps. So someone big will come and not alone. Just not a krogan…
And of course it was him, judging by the head which Kolesnikov hit with a pipe. Trying to consolidate the result, he swung again. The second time he was less lucky. Well, that is, it was not lucky at all, since the angry krogan not only intercepted the "weapon" and threw it away, but also slammed the not very resisting Kolesnikov into the wall. Seeing Bailey actively waving his legs in the air and strenuously trying to throw the krogan's paws off his neck, Kolesnikov became depressed.
"What are you up to, pyjak?" the lizard growled in his ear.
Kolesnikov whistled and, rolling his eyes, looked away. He didn't really count on it, but the krogan fell for this world-old trick. Noticing that he was turning his muzzle, the intel officer hit the krogan with his forehead with the last of his strength (and immediately lost consciousness due to serious brain injury. The end -_- translator's note). He instantly blacked out and again, like half an hour ago, he wanted to lie down and take a nap. However, to Kolesnikov's delight, the krogan collapsed to the floor. However, his companion immediately turned at the noise and growled, throwing Bailey to the floor.
"God forgive me for not believing in you, and not giving up smoking," Kolesnikov managed to think, watching the approach of the angry krogan.
In the next moment, this krogan joined his comrade. Behind the collapsed lizard, Kolesnikov was delighted to see Bailey with the same piece of pipe that he had somehow managed to pick up.
"Not the worst start," Bailey commented, rubbing his neck. "And the door was left open – at least let's breathe."
Kolesnikov bent down and pulled out an assault rifle from behind one of the krogans. The second was unarmed. Apparently, the asshole believed that physical strength would be enough to cope with two not too young people.
"Life is getting better," Kolesnikov commented. "I'll keep the rifle for myself, and you go with the pipe. You're pretty good at handling her. Let's go, look for a way out, that asshole volus and a first aid kit, if possible. My head is cracking."
Bailey nodded and headed for the door. Perpendicular to this room was another, from which, apparently, the guards rushed. Noticing a monitor with a picture depicting krogans resting on top of each other, Kolesnikov was convinced that he was right.
"Look, they were having a meal, so they didn't rush to us much after we woke up," Bailey nodded at the table littered with leftovers. "Would you like to have a lunch?"
"I'll refrain," Kolesnikov replied, feeling the urge to vomit at the sight of unfamiliar food. "First aid kit. If I find a painkiller, I will consider that life has not only improved, but is actually great."
After turning over the medicines, Kolesnikov threw several pills with a familiar name into his mouth. Throwing the plate to Bailey, he examined the gun cabinet. After all, he is a spy, not a machine gunner. It was much more familiar with a pistol than with a rifle. And with two it would be absolutely wonderful. Bailey, who took the medication, also seemed to feel better. After digging into the systems, he brought out a plan of the building in which they were located. Kolesnikov didn't even try to remember. A standard storage building. It can be found on any planet. The first floor and the small, balcony-type second one - nothing special.
After checking the integrity of the found pistol, Kolesnikov threw Bailey a rifle. The officer blocked the door of the vault where they spent several days and, trying not to make noise, moved towards the stairs. Kolesnikov, on the rights of an "old and crooked ambassador," as Bailey called him, trudged behind.
"I counted six krogans," Bailey said, peering around the corner. "Besides in that locked room, it is unknown who and how many. It will not be possible to slip through, since the door out of here is blocked by one of these freaks. And we so far haven't found out what planet it is. I would not like to rush out of the exit door and immediately fall and convulse, suffocating and freezing at the same time."
"So, we will shoot back," Kolesnikov moved Bailey and looked around the corner himself. "That couple over there is standing close to us, but a little far from the others. I suggest we start with them. How will we lure?"
The last thing Kolesnikov saw was Bailey's sly smile and felt a nudge in his side. With a cry, the next moment he was already watching the krogans staring at him. After firing a few shots, Kolesnikov hid around the corner again, but now he and Bailey were separated by a doorway.
"Damn you, Bailey," he shouted, almost in falsetto.
"Come on. You shot one," he leaned out of hiding and also fired several times. "And I did the other one. There are four left, plus the unknown. Didn't you want to go to the shooting range? Here's a shooting range for you – enjoy it."
Kolesnikov chuckled. Really. The familiar atmosphere that he missed in the office, while crumpling paper and aiming at Udina's forehead. Dreams have come true. Shoot and enjoy life.
Krogans, although they were excellent fighters, had an extremely bad trait – to rush. From which they fell faster than they managed to reach the passage. Risky Bailey, briefly looking around, ventured to move behind the boxes.
"The doors are open. Three krogans came out. Come on, don't overheat the weapon," he shouted to Kolesnikov.
He shot at the largest one, dressed in armor with unfamiliar symbols. The krogans were shooting back lazily, as if they were stalling. Kolesnikov managed to notice volus jump out of the room and, accompanied by two already familiar reptiles, heading for the exit. Kolesnikov hid again, and Bailey apparently ignored his own advice, as he managed to overheat the rifle. He had to focus on the approaching guards and watch the retreating volus out of the corner of his eye. However, Bailey resolutely started shooting at Cal's bodyguards, apparently deciding that Kolesnikov would cope with the two remaining ones. Feeling a burning, the spy returned to the shelter. Having been injured, the shoulder joint did not want to work further. Throwing the gun into his left hand forced him to get out of hiding with the whole torso and immediately quickly hide. The delay resulted in an unpleasant situation in the form of a krogan who managed to reach the span. Kolesnikov backed up to the stairs, firing several times at the lizard. And again, he could thank fate, since the guard managed to overheat his shotgun. And if he also stood still, waiting for cooling, it would be absolutely fine. Apparently, krogan strongly did not want to give the spy happiness in the form of his corpse, so he slightly bowed his head and rushed towards Kolesnikov. The latter, not finding a better option, rushed up the stairs, running into the "security" room and bending down for the abandoned pipe on the move. Having hit the krogan who flew into the room and shot at the fallen body just in case, the spy rushed down again. To his horror, Bailey was lying down, trying to stop the blood, clutching his right side tightly.
"Go after Cal," the order was.
Kolesnikov ran to the exit, feeling a tingling in his side. Not as painful as the wound from the charge, but not cheering either.
Through the window, he watched a dreary picture: a sandy planet, krogans with helmets hiding in a ship and flying away, leaving them alone in this, God knows what kind of place. And judging by the fact that the assholes were wearing helmets, the atmosphere on the planet was not suitable for their lungs. And so, for human ones, too. Returning to Bailey, Kolesnikov examined the wound. If he was to believe his own knowledge of anatomy, then they didn't shoot anything important to the officer. But non-stopping blood and paling Bailey prevented him from lowering his ass and relaxing to think about how to live on. Rushing into the room where Cal was sitting, Kolesnikov found another first aid kit. After finding medi-gel, he returned to Bailey. The blood stopped, but the cheeks were in no hurry to blush. The spy had to dig through the remnants of krogan food, looking for something remotely resembling edible or, at least, not fatal meal. At least the drink, poured into huge mugs, was not so bad. Although, judging by how invigorating it was, it was alcoholic. However, that was useful for Bailey.
After going down and getting the officer drunk by force, Kolesnikov went back to Cal's "office". Looking through the terminal and finding a record of a contract to transfer it to some batarian slaver, Kolesnikov extracted the data and returned to Bailey.
"Don't you dare die before I kill you," he threatened, sipping from the mug. "It was interesting to play the mediator. Thank you."
"Glad to try," Bailey said. "Did you find out what kind of planet it is?"
"No. But I found out that they were going to sell me," looking at Bailey's interested face, he added: "And to eat you."
"Funny. So how do we get out of here?"
"I don't know, but apparently, no human spacesuits were left for us."
"Is there a ship with a pilot right outside the door?" Bailey asked hopefully.
"In your dreams."
Looking at Bailey yawning, Kolesnikov suddenly realized that he was dead tired. Narcotic sleep was not an invigorating phenomenon. Quite the opposite. Especially after the shootout, injury and drinking an incomprehensible, but terribly strong for tired brains fluid.
The last thing Kolesnikov heard was Bailey snoring.
"The last place I expected to see you is here," Kolesnikov heard Shepard's voice.
Opening his eyes, the spy found the captain of the Normandy squatting in front of him, and he felt his head lying comfortably on Bailey's shoulder.
"Shepard. And why don't you save Feros?" the first thing that came to mind, Kolesnikov asked, desperately fighting a yawn.
"We've got a distress signal. Several Alliance marines fell victim to the Thresher Maw. And when we noticed a departing ship, we decided to check out what kind of place it was," Shepard examined Kolesnikov meticulously. "So how did you get here? Three days ago we said goodbye at the Citadel, and now I find you in a smuggler's warehouse."
"I took a sick leave for a reason. I had a feeling. Hello, Commander. I am glad to see you more than the salary every month," the awakened Bailey spoke.
"Since you have so kindly found us, would you kindly drop us somewhere from where we can get to the Citadel," Kolesnikov asked.
"The only colonized planet nearby is Feros. I can take you to the Citadel after visiting it," Shepard held out his hand, helping Kolesnikov to get up. "Did the two of you do all this?"
"Just the two of us," Bailey said.
Kolesnikov pondered the captain's words. Flying to the colony in person and reporting everything to Fai directly from the spot would be a good help in their budding friendship. Moreover, the exercises would continue, which, judging by the disgusting state of health, were extremely necessary for the spy. And there were no special business at the Citadel. He could establish communication with the General Secretary on the Normandy. So far, Kolesnikov liked absolutely everything.
Thanks for reading!
Do not hesitate and write about all mistakes, translation screw-ups and your impression of the story itself)
Credits:
Author: Екатерина2 ( ficbook /authors/724290)
Fanfic: "Из СССР с любовью" ( ficbook /readfic/3443325/9028842)