Author's Notes: Please note this chapter DOES feature minor character death, violence, and some rather cold, borderline cruel actions on both one of the main character's parts and definitely on the minor characters' parts.
All right. Breaking from the late-night chess and language sessions here; we've got some actual action.
"Mordin."
"Shepard. Been a while," he commented as she entered the tech lab. "Can't sleep, usual?"
She shook her head, expression unreadable. "Do you have a minute?"
"Of course." He tapped his keyboard a few times, saving his progress, then closed his display windows. "How can I help?"
"Mission," she said shortly, and didn't say more until he gestured for her to continue. "It's near Alchera," she said finally. "It's a bunch of pirates that have taken a ship hostage - and it's near Alchera."
"Alchera," he mused. "Normandy…?"
"Yeah."
He inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything; instead, he laid a hand on her arm gently. "Okay?" he asked finally.
She looked him in the eye for a moment, then let her head fall. "I don't know," she muttered. "I don't know."
"Will get ready," he said reassuringly. "Be at rear airlock in five?"
"Thanks."
Mordin inclined his head, already turning to close his display. "ETA?" he asked.
"Two hours. Joker's really stepping on it - they've already killed two hostages."
Mordin pressed his lips together into a thin line and didn't say anything, though Shepard saw his movements quicken.
"I'll meet you down there," she said, and left.
"Give us one good reason we shouldn't kill the rest of them," the batarian pirate snarled through the comm link. Shepard's grip on her rifle tightened as the doors slammed shut; Garrus and Mordin both spread out around the small room they were in, looking for ways out.
"Because you wouldn't get anything out of that," she told him flatly. "You kill people, we don't cooperate."
"You humans rarely cooperate anyway," he snapped. "Five million credits and I'll let this one go." The batarian dragged a human on screen by the hair.
"Five million? What sort of racket do you think I run?" Shepard snapped back. "I - "
"I'm not in the mood for this," the batarian said dryly, and set his pistol against the human's head. "Go back to your superiors. Tell them our demands. Get out."
"Shepard," Mordin said under his breath. "Can get door leading to colonists open in two minutes. Stall." He crouched out of view of the camera and began fiddling with his omni-tool.
"Can't get out if the doors are shut," Shepard said blandly. "And I'm still not sure - "
There was an earsplitting bang , and the human slid from the batarian's grasp; even Mordin's frantic movements stopped for a moment in the ensuing silence.
"Maybe that will indicate to you that I'm not playing around," the batarian advised. "You'll find the door you came in open." He gestured to the door to Shepard's left. "Go back to your ship. Tell your Cerberus superiors that we will continue to eliminate their precious colonists one by one."
"I don't answer to Cerberus," Shepard said flatly, and the batarian rolled his eyes.
"Funny symbol to have emblazoned on half your crew, then."
"They're funding," she snapped.
"Tell them to fund this," the batarian snapped back. "How many colonists do they want to die?"
"Almost there," Mordin muttered.
"Look, can you tell me why you're doing this?" Shepard asked quickly, beginning to pace in front of the camera. "You cannot just be doing this for credits."
The batarian heaved a sigh. "You humans," he muttered. "Always thinking you know everything." Turning over his shoulder, he barked, "Bring me another!"
"You don't have to do this," Shepard implored. "Really. There has to be a better solution - "
"Credits," the batarian said, brandishing his pistol. "You'd be amazed how easily all these problems would go away if you just - "
"Open," Mordin stated with a flourish of his omnitool, and Shepard immediately raised her rifle.
"I'll see to it you get your credits, but only if you stop killing colonists," Shepard told him firmly, and darted out the right-side door.
"He may keep killing them anyway, regardless of what lies you tell him," Garrus pointed out in a low voice as they sprinted down the hall. "I know you said Cerberus likely wouldn't negotiate, but - "
"They won't," Shepard said shortly. "They don't negotiate with non-human hostage-takers."
"Not very humane policy," Mordin commented dryly, and Shepard shrugged as best she could while running.
"Not my worry right now. My only worry is getting to these colonists." She stopped as they came to a fork in the hall. "Mordin?"
"Right," he said decisively. "Left leads further to hull."
"Right it is, then." They resumed their sprint. "Okay, when we get to the main room - "
There was a massive CRASH! as something in front of them exploded; Mordin found himself flung over the hall railing and slid half underneath the walkway as the hall collapsed.
He hissed in pain; his leg was twisted uncomfortably underneath him, and he hastily set to work trying to pull himself up. "Shepard?" he called.
"Mordin!" He could hear her, but she sounded muffled; he managed to pull himself up, climb back over the railing, and hobble towards the mangled, exploded mess of a hallway.
"Shepard!" He could see a bit of light shift, and he bent down to peek through a hole about the size of his fist through which he could see the Commander. "Here."
"I don't see a way through." That was Garrus; Mordin could hear the turian pacing. "I guess we could loop through the outer hallway to the left - "
"Yes," Mordin said, speaking quickly as he scanned the wreckage. "Explosives, set to trigger from proximity; likely booby-trapped entire ship," he commented. "Be careful."
"Stay put," Shepard told him firmly. "We'll go around the left side, sneak past the main room, and come back up the hall for you."
Mordin made a face; he didn't like being told to stay. "Fine."
"I know you want to keep going, but I'm not risking you running into another explosive by yourself," she said. "We're lucky to have only gotten some scrapes and burns."
"True," Mordin agreed. "Very well."
"Be there in a bit," Shepard said, and Mordin heard the two of them hurry off.
Mordin busied himself with his pistol, scanning it extensively for damage from the blast; he was happy to find it not only survived the blast, but despite him landing on it, it was still in good working order. It was only a few minutes after that he heard footsteps.
"Nau breur eltheuzh?" A low voice; batarian likely. Mordin rose and crept closer to the break in the next hallway.
"Kjaam sslen bisihuaa, " answered another voice.
Footsteps coming closer. Only recognize a few words; not a dialect familiar with. 'They' plural conjugation, likely referring to either colonists or our group, as well as 'ihuaa,' explosion. Likely speaking about our group, then.
"Draihmas sslen a tsslie ihuaa?"
Damn it. Can't understand all words. Talking about explosions. Need to warn Shepard; other explosives on ship? "EDI," Mordin whispered.
"Yes, Dr. Solus." The ship's computer automatically lowered the volume of his shoulder frame until none but Mordin could hear her.
"Turn on translator," he whispered back with a grimace. Of course this would be the one mission he'd need it.
"Turning on translator," EDI stated, and there was a slight crackle as the translator software loaded.
"Draihmas al kma altheuzh on the ship, idiot," came the batarian's voice, tinny through the translation software.
"Yes, but shouldn't we be getting off the ship soon?" The second batarian sounded irritable. "The airlock is in that direction - "
"Would you shut up?" the first batarian growled. "You heard the explosion. You want to bet that little flash bomb would take out their whole squad?"
Explosion. Flash bomb. Not a flash bomb; translator error. Bomb was hidden behind bulkhead; triggered collapse of hallway.
"No, but - "
There was a scuffle; Mordin heard the second batarian yelp.
"We go in there, we find whoever is left, we kill them, and we leave," hissed the first batarian.
"Fine," snapped the second.
Coming to investigate. Mordin clicked the safety off his pistol and readied his omnitool. Need one alive.
As the batarians rounded the corner, Mordin fired two shots; the batarians, clearly not expecting him to be directly around the corner, had no time to react. One shot landed between the smaller batarian's several pairs of eyes, and the other landed squarely in the stomach of the larger; Mordin recognized him as the slaver who had shot the human hostage on camera. There was a clatter of gunfire as the larger batarian tried to point his gun and cover his stomach at the same time, forcing Mordin to duck.
"Need information," Mordin told him coldly once the clip was empty, and kicked the gun out of his hands.
"I'm not telling you any hhhhh - " The batarian wheezed as Mordin placed a foot delicately above his stomach. "Just - just wait, man, I - "
'Man' clearly translator error; no such casual reference word in Batarian. Damn translator. "Need information. What other explosives?"
"I just - I just work here, I don't - oww!" The batarian let out a yell as Mordin pressed down slightly. "Leave off! I just - "
"Heard you," Mordin growled, looming over the batarian. "Tsslie ihuaa," he repeated, and the batarian's eyes widened as the words came through without the translator filter.
"Fool, we were talking about what you and your friends set off - "
"Incorrect," Mordin intoned, wiggling his foot, and the batarian hissed in pain. "Truth, please."
"I don't - "
Mordin pressed his foot down, and the batarian yelled.
"I swear it, I just - "
More pressure, more noise. "Truth," Mordin repeated.
The batarian wriggled, only to make the pain worse; Mordin shifted his weight and drew a ragged breath out of the batarian. "It's just - it's - "
Mordin narrowed his eyes.
"BOMB!" the batarian yelled, sweating. "Bomb - just - "
Time for a different approach. Mordin took his foot away, and the batarian curled up on his side. "Have medigel," he taunted, waving his omnitool. "Tell me."
"I'm gonna die," the batarian said thickly.
"Not if I give you medigel. Tell me."
The batarian stayed on his side, curled with his legs over his stomach protectively. "Bomb," he gasped. "This whole place is rigged. To take you all out. You, your ship, the whole thing."
Mordin's eyes widened. "True?"
"I swear it," the batarian cried. "I swear! We were paid to make it look like a hostage situation to draw you all in - the whole place is rigged to blow in an hour!"
"Thank you," Mordin said calmly, and shot him.
"Commander," Mordin said into his comm link.
"Mordin? Are you okay? We heard gunfire - "
"Okay," he said. "Taken care of. Listen - whole place rigged to explode."
He heard the Commander stop short. "What?"
"Whole place rigged to explode," he repeated.
"Why do you sound like that?" Shepard asked suspiciously. "Wait - Mordin, do you have a translator on?"
Mordin cursed and instructed EDI to switch the thing off. "Momentarily," he grumbled. "Not familiar with Batarian dialect."
"So the whole thing is rigged to explode. Is it on a timer?"
"Yes," Mordin reported. "One hour."
"Okay. So we've got a small amount of time. Hang tight - we're almost around the way. We'll be coming down your hallway in a moment."
"Got it." Mordin sighed heavily as the comm link went silent, then leaned forward and quietly shut the eyes of both batarians. "Find peace," he murmured.
A minute later, Mordin heard the clatter of Shepard's and Garrus' armor, and rose to greet them. "Mordin!" she called, then stopped short at the sight of the batarian bodies. "Mordin, are you okay?"
"Fine," Mordin reassured her. "Fine." He inhaled sharply and surveyed the two dead batarians. "Taken care of."
"Mercy shot?" Garrus guessed, examining the larger batarian's wounds, and Mordin shook his head.
"Don't like slavers," he said flatly.
"He's the one that shot the hostage," Shepard observed, and Mordin nodded stiffly. "Okay. We've got time. I'd say we need to get these people off the ship, but there's too many." She furrowed her brow and licked her lips. "Mordin, how do you feel about defusing a bomb?"
"Need few more minutes," Mordin said through the comm link. "Initial security better than expected." He was in position two floors up; they had taken out the guard detail around the bomb, though not before one of them managed to quicken the timer, then left Mordin alone with it as Garrus went one direction to the main atrium, and Shepard went 'round the back, both tasked with preventing the remaining batarians from interrupting.
"How long?" Shepard's mouth was dry and her muscles ached as she crouched behind a crate, sizing up the few batarians in front of her.
"Two minutes."
"I'll buy you two minutes," she said quietly, and signaled Garrus.
A shot rang out, and one of the batarians dropped. The other jumped back, startled, and looked for the shooter, eyes furious.
"Hey," Shepard shouted, jumping out from behind the crate; the batarian let out a bellow and ran at her. Forgoing her pistol, she drew an arm back and punched him, knocking him into the wall. "Tell your slaver buddies to call off," she gasped.
"I'll kill you for that," the batarian threatened, wiping his lip. "Stupid human."
"Why is it you all always use human as the insult?" she quipped as they circled each other. "Not the most original."
"And humans are original?" the batarian said derisively, feinting to the side; she didn't flinch. "Please."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, and he laughed.
"We've been paid nicely," he informed her smugly. "And frankly, I'm not seeing why it's been so difficult to take you down." He feinted; this time she didn't catch in time and he caught her shoulder with his other fist.
"You haven't taken me down yet," she panted, rolling her shoulders. They had been on this mission for a full day, with hardly any rest; she was getting tired.
"Not yet," the batarian said delicately. "There's time yet."
"You'll go down with this bomb," she tried to say, but he yelled again and charged, and she tried to sidestep, but he seized her around the middle and slammed her into the opposing wall.
"I'll be off this ship before you know it," he snarled, grappling with her, trying to get a hand around her throat.
Should've worn a full helmet, she thought bitterly; she was more agile, but she was growing weary, and he was bigger and taller. "Seems like you do," she growled, trying to keep his hands occupied. She could hear gunfire from the atrium, and hoped Garrus was managing all right.
"Is that the best the great Commander Shepard can do?" he sneered, pinning one hand to the wall as the other continued trying for her throat. "Feeble."
"Oh, now I'm the great Commander Shepard, not human, " she spat through gritted teeth, feinting to the side, then lashing out to stab him in both right eyes; he yelled and jerked backward, but didn't release her other hand.
"Not very great," he hissed, "if I can best you while my team sets our final bomb." He grinned wolfishly. "It'll light you all up like a candle." He drew back and punched her in the gut; her armor took most of the blow, but she still sagged down the wall slightly.
"You'll go down with it too - "
"They won't set it with me on board."
"They set it faster trying to kill us," Shepard said flatly, still grappling with his hand, and he scoffed.
"You're lying," the batarian said confidently, and she rolled her eyes and spat at him.
"Believe what you like," she told him, then grunted as he punched her gut again. "Mordin - " she began; two minutes had to be up now, right?
"Your teammates won't help you now." The batarian punched her in the jaw; she sputtered, tasting blood.
"How much long-"
"Commander?" Mordin's voice came through the comm, tinny but loud.
The batarian paid no notice, and wasted no time putting a hand around her neck tightly.
"How longer, " she wheezed, trying to pry his fingers away. "Mordin - "
"Shepard - I can't get a clear shot!" That was Garrus. "Can you get him back a step? I can't see into the hallway!"
"Yeah," she forced out, sucking a breath in with difficulty, and kneed the batarian in the crotch.
The batarian's eyes bulged, but to his credit, he didn't let her go until she drew her leg up and kicked him in the stomach. He stumbled back; there was a loud bang! , and he crumpled to the floor.
Shepard sighed and collected her rifle from behind the crate, rubbing her neck. "Ouch," she muttered.
"Commander!" Garrus jogged through the hallway entrance, face pinched with worry. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said wearily, waving a hand. "Sorry. I'm a bit tired."
"You've been at this more than either of us," Garrus told her sternly. "I told you Mordin and I could handle it, but no."
"Don't even start," she said warningly. "I'm fine."
"And I suppose that bruise on your neck is fine," Garrus snapped. "How'd he even get the jump on you?"
"I told Mordin I'd buy him time." She shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? We're not dead."
"Success." Mordin's voice came over the comm. "Bomb inert."
"Well done," she croaked, accepting the water bottle that Garrus held out to her. "Are we done? Are there any batarians left?"
"The Normandy's coming in to dock," EDI told the squad. "ETA two minutes. Any remaining batarians can be taken care of by the rest of the crew."
"So sit," Garrus said tightly, taking the water bottle back. "And let Chakwas take a look at that bruise."
"It's just a bruise, Garrus," she told him, and he scowled.
"Bruise?" Mordin stepped out of the connecting hallway to the elevator, brushing his lab coat off. "What bruise?"
"That batarian tried to strangle her," Garrus said accusingly, and Mordin tilted his head to the side, making quick strides over to Shepard.
"Skin is red," he observed, taking her chin and tilting it side to side. "Wearing gloves?"
"Yeah, he was," she managed, trying not to slap his hand away. "I think so."
"No," Garrus reported, examining the corpse. "Not full gloves, anyway. Just protective stuff for the joints and on the palm. Probably for handling thermal clips."
"Skin is red," Mordin repeated, and trailed one finger down her throat, causing her to hiss and jerk backwards. He gave a brisk nod. "Allergic," he noted, and she rolled her eyes.
"What, I'm allergic to batarians?" she scoffed.
"Not impossible," Mordin said reasonably, and she rolled her eyes. "Allergic reactions to most alien species possible in humans. Different proteins, different chemicals."
"He just touched me!" she said hotly, though Mordin shook his head.
"Ever come skin to skin contact with batarians?" he asked clinically, and she huffed.
"I don't know, I've fought plenty of them!"
"Just sit tight, Shepard," Garrus advised. "Allergic reactions aren't something to mess with."
"He's right," Mordin told her, steering her over to the crate she'd been hiding behind earlier and sitting her down, still tilting her head side to side. "Cross-species reactions quite common, actually. With Thane - "
"Don't you dare," Shepard said threateningly, staring at the wall, and Mordin coughed while Garrus quickly hid a surprised laugh.
"Just saying, possibility of reaction always there," he reasoned, and released her.
"Normandy docked," EDI informed them through the comm. "No further hostiles detected."
"Med bay," Mordin told Shepard firmly, and she huffed.
"Fine, fine," she muttered. "But you two come with me. Garrus, you're dehydrated, you need to be drinking more water if that bottle wasn't empty. If you want it to taste like something," she said as he opened his mouth, "then get Chakwas to give you some of that dextro-electrolyte stuff."
"I don't need to go to the med bay for dehydration," he muttered.
"Ask Chakwas for some of that electrolyte stuff. And you," Shepard said, rounding on Mordin, who snapped to attention.
"Hm?"
"You're going to explain to me exactly how this allergic reaction thing works."
"Ah," he said knowingly. "Can do that."
"Area secure," EDI's voice rang out. "Congratulations on the rescue of the Seven Stars passenger ship."
Shepard sighed. "All right, crew. Move out."
Author's Notes (cont'd): I have to say, creating the batarian language was actually really fun. Incidentally, the word for "language" is closer to the word for "shout;" draw what conclusions you like there. It's loosely based off Dutch pronunciation - not phonologically, though it has some similarities, by the way. I wish I knew more about batarian culture - we just don't get a lot in the media, do we, and I hate writing them as if they're all criminals. Batarian space just doesn't let their citizens leave, so all we get are the odd ones, I guess.
Also, when you think about how easy it is for humans to have allergic reactions to things, you'd think reactions would be a lot more common. Especially with other species that have soft squishy skin that secretes oils like us squishy humans do.