Mass Effect is the intellectual property of Bioware and EA. The AvP franchise belongs to 20th Century Fox.

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The Citadel, Lower Wards

The Citadel Rapid Transit System seemed typical of everything on the Citadel. It was slick, high-tech, and, to human perception, insanely over-engineered. Instead of having a high capacity public transport system where you crammed as many people in a vehicle as possible and made them change vehicles multiple times to reach their destination, it consisted of unmanned air-car taxis that provided a point to point personal transportation between stops. It was comfortable, fast, and utterly inefficient. Fortunately, it was government sponsored, so the end-users didn't have to bear the full cost.

The automated taxi came to a stop and Shepard and her two companions got out.

"Well, this is it." Shepard looked around. "Huh, looks like this is where they ran out of money."
The decor had certainly changed. Where everything on the Presidium was smooth and shiny, the Wards looked positively utilitarian and somewhat rundown.
"The club of this guy Fist is supposed to be right around the corner."

"Who calls himself Fist anyway?" Williams asked

"Someone who gets intimate with his own fist on a regular basis I suspect."

"You think we can get to this Fist character?" Alenko asked.

"Without shooting our way through his guards? I doubt it. I'm hardly an expert, but I doubt a crime boss will be all that eager to talk to visitors. Especially a crime boss who has just turned on his own boss. Perhaps he'll be willing to talk if we warn him about that krogan. Anyway, we can try. If it doesn't work, I'll take a stab at talking to that turian ex-general."

"Running errands for asari hookers," Williams grumbled. "I don't remember that being on any Marine recruitment posters."

"A geisha, not a hooker, or so Udina told me. And highly respected, according to her receptionist." Shepard shrugged. "Who am I to judge? I'd look damn silly lecturing people on ethics. She gave us a reason to walk into this Chora's Den place. Perhaps that was just a coincidence, but I doubt it. Anyway, let's get going."

-0-0-0-

Chora's Den

Many things might be strange or alien on the Citadel, but Chora's Den certainly wasn't. In fact, you could have walked into any strip club on Earth and found pretty much the same decor. In the middle of the club was a huge, circular bar, behind which several bartenders seemed to be working non-stop. The elevated centre of the bar doubled as a stage and an asari clad in what could best be described as a combination of a one-piece swimsuit and stockings was twirling around a pole. Other asari, as well as human women in similar outfits, were moving around the club, serving drinks and performing on smaller stages inside booths along the wall, where most of the clientele was sitting.

Shepard smiled. "Now, this looks familiar. Not sure why we ever thought we'd need a clever excuse to walk in here. I bet every Marine that ever passed through the Citadel has been to this place.

"This is really sad," Williams said. "A man travels a thousand light years to an alien station and what does he do? He starts a strip joint. I wonder if there is a comment on human nature in that."

"What, you don't think he's a cosmopolitan who wants to promote human culture to the aliens?" Shepard smirked. "Some things never change, Chief. Sex sells and not just to humans apparently." She looked around. Whatever Fist's motivations might have been, the clientele was a living advertisement for cosmopolitan multiculturalism. There were humans, turians, asari, and even a handful of salarians scattered around the club. "Everybody seems to be having a good time. Except..." She peered into the half-dark back of the club. Two krogan were standing pretty much nose to nose near a door in the back of the establishment. One of them, who was clearly working for the club, probably as a bouncer, was blocking the way of the other.

"Get lost. Fist isn't seeing anyone."

The other, who was covered head to toe in heavy-looking red body armour, tapped the bouncer in the chest with a massive claw.

"He can't stay in there forever. Tell Fist he might as well come out now. It'll be quicker that way," He growled, then turned around and stalked off, a process that resembled nothing as much as a battle tank rolling through a city.
Shepard wisely stepped aside. "So much for warning Fist," She mused as the krogan moved past them. "Well, I guess at least we know who stood model for that statue in the Presidum Lake. They really got him right, including the attitude." She looked around. "Okay, I'll try to talk my way past the bouncer. You two, go over to the bar and see what you can find out about this place. And check for any stray turian generals while you're at it."

-o-o-o-

About five minutes later, the three of them were back at the bar.

"Now that was a waste of time," Shepard remarked as she picked up her drink. Getting past the bouncer had proved impossible and a quick question to the girl behind the bar had confirmed it. Fist wasn't seeing anyone. In fact, he hadn't been seen on the floor of the club since the day before. "This Fist guy is seriously spooked. So, if we cannot get to Fist before the krogan gets him. Perhaps we should take another approach. Let's talk to the krogan before he gets to Fist."

"You think you can persuade him not to kill Fist?" Alenko looked doubtful.

Shepard shrugged. "To be honest, I don't really care what he does to Fist, as long as I get to ask Fist a few questions before he does it. Anyway, that's enough about that. Did you find that turian general?"

Alenko nodded. "He's in one of the booths. I've got to warn you, though, ma'am. He's about halfway through a bottle of brandy, and he doesn't look happy."

"Right. Well, no time like the present."

Shepard moved through the club to the spot Alenko had indicated. General Oraka wasn't hard to identify. There were a few turians in the room, but only one of them seemed more interested in the contents of his glass than in the dancers.

"General Oraka?"

He looked up. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Shepard." Without waiting to be asked, she sat down across from him.

"Ah, yes, Lieutenant-" The general's eyes focussed on her uniform. "Forgive me, Commander Shepard. I heard a rumour that you were on the station. This is indeed an honour. I would offer you a drink, but I'm afraid turian liquor wouldn't be good for you constitution.

Shepard held up her glass. "I've got my own."

"Well, then," The turian poured himself another drink, lifted the glass and emptied it in a single gulp. "Here is to you, Commander, and to your great victory!"

"My great victory?" Shepard slowly leant back in her chair. "Ah, yes. That victory. I keep forgetting about it."

"Well, aren't we a strange pair, then. A defeated general who cannot forget his defeat, and a victorious commander, who cannot remember her victory. So, tell me, Commander. What is it that a disgraced old general can do for you?"

"I believe we have a mutual acquaintance."

"Really?"

"Yes, blue skin, soft voice; good at getting people to talk about subjects they wish to avoid, always seems to be one step ahead of you. Sounds familiar?"

The general nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes. yes, it does."

"She seems to be under the impression that you started certain rumours about her."

Oraka looked at her. "And what if I did?"

"Well, obviously, she would like you to stop. And she figured that I was the right person to talk to you. The military connection, you see. I wasn't too sure about it. Sending a human to talk to a turian, especially a turian that fought in the First Contact War, seemed to be, eh, less than diplomatic."

Oraka laughed, or at least that was how Shepard interpreted the sound, remembering her conversation with Nihlus Kryik. "And since when is the Butcher of Torfan worried about diplomatic niceties."

Shepard groaned. "One day I'm going to find the person who came up with that name. And they're not going to be happy."

"You don't like it?"

"Nicknames can have their uses." Shepard shrugged. "People tend to do as their told when they hear it. Doesn't mean I enjoy being reminded of the fact that Torfan was a slaughterhouse and not just for the batarians and their friends."

Oraka nodded in the stiff turian fashion. "Yes, battles can be like that. No need to tell me. I know. I know all too well. I suppose that's why she sends you. Two people that have both passed through the inferno understand each other. Tell me, Commander: When you close your eyes, do you seem them?"

"The batarians?"

The turian made a weird snorting noise, that Shepard recognized as laughter, even before her translation implant caught up.. "Hardly. If they bothered you, you wouldn't still be walking around in uniform. No, your own people, the ones you lost on Torfan."

"Oh, them." Shepard stared into the distance, hearing her own voice from a long distance away.

"Major Kyle has the only uplink to the fleet, and I cannot even reach him."

"What now, Lieutenant?"

"We have to press on."

"But, ma'am-"

"We cannot stay here, Sergeant. If we give them time to regroup, we're all dead."

"God help us."

Even now she could feel it. The sense of inevitability.

"Don't bring God into it, Sergeant. Trust me, He wants no part of what comes next."

Five minutes later, Sergeant McInnes had died, caught in the blaze of a flamethrower.

"Yes, I see them sometimes."

"I'm not surprised, Commander. And it's been what? Five years? And still, you see them. Trust me on this, that will never stop. Five years, or fifty. You'll still see them and hear them. So tell me, how would you feel if you met someone, the one person in the entire galaxy, who could make you stop seeing them. Who can make their voices go silent? Someone who can finally give you peace, even if it's only for a moment. And then, you cannot keep hold of her. You have to watch her leave. How would you feel? What would you do?"

For a moment they both sat their, in silence, except for the music of the club.

"I cannot speak for others, General Oraka. But as for me, I prefer to keep my anger bottled up and wait until my bosses find something for me to kill." Shepard shrugged. "Besides, I suppose I've learned to live with my ghosts. I might even start to feel lonely if they left me. But that's just me and I'm probably not the best person to go to for counselling. Still, rumour mongering? You're a soldier for God's sake. Not a tabloid reporter."

"A soldier? Not for a long time, Commander."

"Once a soldier, always a soldier. At least that's what my family used to tell me."

"A military tradition?"

"Very much so. And, no, none of them were at Shanxi. Something they're all regretting to this very day."

"Well, you made up for their lack of actual combat experience. Your family must be very proud."

"Proud? Please, general. The Shepards are an old and distinguished military family. In their view of military life, there is no place for bloodthirsty thugs like me; only for honourable soldiers, who stand tall and proud, ready to do their sacred duty. No, in my family, I'm the cousin that nobody wants to talk about."

"Ah? I see." Reading turian expressions was almost impossible for a human, but Oraka actually seemed to understand. "Unfortunately, warfare can be somewhat less clean and orderly than we would wish it to be. But you can't tell anyone that. They have to experience it for themselves. I found out at Shanxi, you found out at Torfan. Perhaps, one day your family will find out as well."

"Perhaps." Shepard leant forward. "But this isn't about me. You're angry about the past. Fair enough. For what it's worth, I do understand the anger. I just don't think you picked the right target."

"Perhaps not," Oraka said. "But it did make me feel better." He slowly shook his head. "But not for long. And I can't say that drinking helps. Perhaps you're right, Commander."

He filled his glass again.

"Here's to soldiers being soldiers."

They both drank.

-0-0-0-

Outside Chora's Den

As they left the bar, something caught Shepard's eye.

"Heads up, two-o'clock," She muttered. In itself, there was no reason to expect trouble, but then again, there was really no reason for a couple of turians to simply stand around on a corner halfway between Chora's Denn and the Rapid Transit stop where they would have a perfect view of both locations.

"It's them!"

And with that brilliant observation, the turians opened fire. Unfortunately for them, they had chosen their position with less than perfect tactical sense. Although it allowed to both watch the exit of Chora's Den and the Rapid Transit stop at the same time, the architecture of the station also forced them to shoot over the chest-high barrier that kept people from falling off the walkway and onto the level below. One of the things about giant space stations that last for tens of thousands of years is that they tend to be built pretty sturdily and this was no exception. The plates that made up the barrier had clearly been designed to stop individuals of all species from breaking through and did a good job of stopping incoming mass effect fire as well, making them the perfect barrier to hide behind.

"Alright, they want to do this the hard way." Shepard risked a quick glance over the barrier, then ducked back as more mass effect rounds zipped by overhead. "One moving up, the other is hanging back. I'll cut him off. Wiliams, cover fire; Alenko, get ready to blast something."

Shepard crawled forward behind the barrier, all the while wishing she was back in combat armour and holding a nice big assault rifle. The compact pistol that Harkin had provided wasn't bad, but compared to military grade weaponry it felt like a toy. Behind her, she heard the familiar bark of a chemically powered gun as Williams sent a few rounds in the general direction of the enemy.
Whoever that enemy was, they weren't particularly good. The one at the back was way too fond of shooting, sending rounds all over the place, which was not a good idea with a weapon that would overheat after a dozen shots. Even as the thought occurred to her, the incoming fire ceased. Now the only noise what that of a turian scuffling along, trying to outflank her. Not today my friend.

Shepard rolled out from behind the barrier, staying flat on the ground as she moved, surprising her opponent, who was aiming too high. Always the same with the birdfaces. They keep forgetting that some people are just more flexible than others. The turian only got one shot off, which passed harmlessly overhead. Shepard fired once, twice, both hits slamming into his face, where she could be sure he wasn't protected by anything more than natural armour; armour, which just hadn't evolved to stand up to small arms fire. Even as the turian slumped down on the floor, she heard a scream. The second attacker, who was supposed to provide covering fire but had been too busy changing the thermal clip on his gun collapsed, his entire body covered in a blue sheen. Shepard raised her gun, but there was no need for a finishing shot, as Williams pumped three rounds into the target.

As quickly as it had started, the engagement was over.

"Well," Shepard said. "That escalated quickly."

"I thought Saren and this Shadow Broker had fallen out," Alenko said. "So how did word get out so quickly?"

"It was sloppy. He should have been able to do better than this. A couple of street thugs, seriously?"

"It had to be done at short notice," Alenko said. "I doubt that high-class assassins can be found so quickly, so perhaps they were just making do with what they could find."

"Perhaps. But then why do it at all? It's a waste of time and effort, and it puts us on guard. Ah well, one more question to ask Saren when I catch up with him. Right before I ask him in which eye he wants the bullet. Unless..." Shepard paused. "What if Saren wasn't even involved? Like you said, Saren and the Broker aren't supposed to be talking anymore and even if the Shadow broker is still talking to him, he wouldn't have had much time. Even if he has access to a real-time link with the Citadel, wherever he is, we've only been here a few days, and the first time we even dropped his name was a few hours ago. That's awfully quick to set up any kind of ambush, especially since he has to do it by remote. Who else would benefit from our early demise and has access to small-time gunslingers?"

"This Fist character?"

"That's what I'm thinking. If he really works for Saren, he might have decided to preempt and then tell his boss about the good news. Or he is so paranoid about pissing off the Shadow Broker that he panicked. That's actually more likely. I suspect Fist was thinking something along the lines of 'of all the clubs in the Citadel, they had to walk into mine', concluded that it wasn't a coincidence and decided to eliminate a potential threat. And he used turians to deflect attention. People might think it was related to Torfan or just general anti-human sentiment. The timing makes more sense too. They were probably hanging around the club. All Fist had to do was call them and give them our description."

"So, what do we do next?"

Shepard considered for a moment. "An interesting question. If we contact C-Sec, we will end up spending a lot of time filling out forms and answering questions. We might even end up under house arrest in the embassy, which we can't afford. On the other hand, if we don't contact them, and they find these bodies, we'll be in even bigger trouble. Then again-" She took out of her communicator. "Embassy? This is Shepard. I need to speak to Mr Harkin, urgently." She looked at her companions. "Just drag these two out of sight. I'll arrange for disposal."

-0-0-0-

One of the advantages of using aircars everywhere was that transport could be very quick indeed. Within minutes a large, unmarked vehicle arrived and landed at the Rapid Transit platform.

"Commander Shepard, I'm impressed. I hadn't thought you'd be needing my service this quickly." Hakin looked at the two corpses. "I see your worries turned out to be pretty accurate."

"A minor problem." Shepard shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not even sure if this was a hit or just a robbery. Either way, I really don't want to spend the next couple of hours explaining to some C-Sec officer why I had to gun down a couple of turians. And since you said you could arrange this kind of thing, I figured-"

"That you could save yourself from a lot of red tape. I fully understand, Commander." Harkin looked over his shoulder. "Come on boys, we've got to move some meat." He grinned. "Don't worry, Commander. Garbage disposal on this station is very efficient. A little extra dextro-protein won't clog up the system one bit."

-0-0-0-

Within a very short time, the two turian bodies had been loaded up and the van departed. Leaving Shepard and her two companions to board one of the automated taxis. As the Rapid Transit System vehicle left, a figure emerged from the shadows.

Sparatus was right. There is something going on. Garrus Vakarian stared after the departing air car. This assignment was getting very complicated. He'd hoped to be able to reach Chora's Den ahead of Shepard's party, but the timing hadn't worked out and entering after her and then follow her out again would have been too risky. Instead, he'd waited for her group to come out only to have a ringside seat to this pathetic attempt at an assassination. That had been interesting to watch. Unfortunately, he had been too far away to pick up the conversation. He had a recording, though, and human lips, like an asari's, could be read either by an expert or if you had the right software. That would have to wait until he was back at C-Sec headquarters.

Word is out that Fist betrayed the Broker to work for Saren. But Saren detests humans, he wouldn't work with one if he had a choice. Meanwhile, another turian Spectre dies on Eden Prime, while the Butcher of Torfan is practically looking on. Did she kill him? Possibly, but then why does she come to the Citadel? Assume she didn't kill him, then something else did, something that the humans refuse to reveal to the Council. Then Shepard shows up on the Citadel. Her commanding officer just happens to meet with the Shadow Broker's primary representative and a couple of hours later she just happens to walk into Fist's club?

There were too many seemingly independent events going on. Fist clearly thought Shepard was coming after him. Garrus had recognized the two turians instantly: A couple of low-rent thugs of the type that Fist kept around to do his dirty work. But was Fist correct? Would the Butcher of Torfan work for the Shadow Broker, either as a permanent agent or just on a contract basis? At first glance, the idea seemed too outlandish to be true. Then again, the Broker had agents in lots of places and you didn't get to be the Butcher of anywhere by being overly sensitive about ethics. On the other hand, Urdnot Wrex was now on the station as well, and his connection to the Broker was common knowledge. Would the Broker order two agents to carry out a hit on Fist independently? That seemed unwise. Too much chance of them getting in each other's way.
But if Shepard did not work for the Broker, then what was she doing? Councillor Sparatus had indicated that Shepard's commanding officer had a personal grudge against Saren and that she might be helping him in that regard. Was that the connection? If the humans were going after Saren, they might want to move on Fist.

Garrus slowly shook his head. This was going to be a serious problem. Shepard and that slime from the human embassy, Harkin, had contained the situation and noone was going to miss the two dead thugs, but if Fist made another attempt, there might be more damage and C-Sec would be forced to deal with it. That would bring the whole situation into the open, which was exactly what the Council wanted to avoid. Unfortunately, that put one Garrus Vakarian on the spot. He needed information from inside Fist's organization and he needed it fast.

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A/N: Shepard & Co really need to be more careful about holding conversations in public, but then again they were coming off an adrenalin rush and espionage isn't their speciality. That's part of the problem when you try to use people for jobs they're not trained for, especially when everybody is improvising.

Now Wrex is on the Citadel as well. Getting the characters to the right place at the right time is tougher than I thought it would be. The problem is that ME is not a real-time game: The other characters don't move until Shepard is there with them. So, C-Sec detains Wrex indefinitely; Garrus can spend days in the clinic listening while Fist's henchmen bully Dr Michel, Fist just sits around in his club, etc. All of them waiting for Shepard to show up. No problem in a game, but in a written story, that becomes a bit more complicated