The bar was a hole in the wall and that was being generous. Smaller even than Chora's Den had been. The patrons that were around were all completely wasted or completely invested in the small holo-screen hanging from a corner of the room. Garrus wasn't convinced that this was the most secure location to be having a clandestine meeting, but the human insisted it was better than anywhere else in the district. The salarian was nowhere to be found; Butler said that his partner was checking up on another lead. Garrus took the seat in the booth, while Butler and Sidonis took seats next to each other on the other side of the table.
"Look, I keep files on all the players, major and minor. Me and Sensat, why we've kept tabs on so many people over the years—" He chugged the glass he was holding and set it down with a thump. "—oh that's the good stuff. Flavorful. Anyways, if you're serious about this vigilante stuff, I've got a list of people what need their brains to decorate the walls behind them." He poured a new glass immediately, tipping the bottle of scotch carelessly and started to chug it as well.
"Do you have anything on Kron Harga? There's someone that needs a bullet between the eyes." Garrus drawled.
Butler choked on his drink, coughing and wheezing as he slapped his chest with an open palm.
"Jeezus, I'm sorry, it sounded like you said you want to go after the guy in charge of the largest slaving operation on this side of the terminus."
"You heard right."
"You know he's a Krogan, right? Big Krogan? Like freak of nature big?" The look on Butler's face was one of incredulity, if Garrus's time on the Normandy had taught him anything about human facial expressions.
"I've killed my fair share," Garrus replied dryly, thinking of the labs on Virmire. "What's one more?"
Butler shook his head in disbelief.
"You've got balls of steel; I'll give you that. But the four of us? Against a syndicate that size? Pipe dream."
"So we start recruiting."
"Spirits, here we go again." Sidonis muttered, knocking back his drink.
Garrus ignored him and repeated the speech he'd given Sidonis when they'd met. Sharing his ideals, how Shepard had put a team together and done what needed to be done. What no one else was willing to do.
Butler listened in silence, an inscrutable look on his face.
"You're serious then." Butler leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers before rubbing at his eyes. "Tell you what, I'll put some feelers out after we deal with this current mess. I bet I can find a few bastards as crazy as us." He pulled out a datapad from somewhere in his coat and slid it across the table for Garrus's perusal.
"Thralog Mirki'it ain't much more than a small fish in a very big pond. But he's trying to move up in the world. Muscled any dealers without connections to Aria or the Big Three out of Kima District. Lost a lot of guys in the process. Ruthless, even for a batarian. Got an anger management problem." Butler took out a cigar and rolled it between his fingers. "Personally I think he samples his own stock."
Garrus nodded knowingly. Some things were universal.
"Anyway after the stunt we pulled yesterday, word on the street is they're looking for us. Spread thin though. Maybe twenty enforcers left? Like I said, real small-time."
"Five to one odds? I've survived worse."
"Speak for yourself." Sidonis interjected with a grimace.
I've got it on good authority that he's moving some new product. Supposed to be something with a bigger kick to it than red sand. Experimental even."
Experimental? That was cause for some concern. But there was a more pressing concern that Garrus felt the need to voice.
"Why are you helping us? As I said before, you're quick. Very quick to trust two turians you know nothing about."
"Oh I wouldn't say that," Butler said with a grin, tapping the side of his head. "It's all in the details. Now you, you I recognize from the news. I'm a big fan of Commander Shepard, first human SPECTRE and all." He paused, looking down at the table. "Damn shame, that." A silence stretched over the table and Garrus let it hang, reminiscing of a fiery haired, fiery tempered woman that had saved the galaxy.
"But why shouldn't I trust you?" Butler continued. "You're former C-sec. And Siddy here is wearing Omega First colors, which it what passes for morally upright on this station. And yes, I can see you rolling your eyes."
Sidonis held up his hands as if to ask what else he was supposed to do.
"You're sharp. Been casing the whole bar this whole time. Bet you don't even realize your eyes been flicking back and forth between the exits."
Garrus hadn't.
He sat back and studied the human. Really studied him, taking in the tired circles under his eyes, the grime and dirt clinging to the edges of his trench coat and the battered grey armor that was under it. It looked and smelled as though some of the blood from the firefight the previous day was still on it. Probably because it was. Something had happened to this man. Something bad. Garrus had been a detective too and he recognized the signs of obsession.
"Not that I'm ungrateful, but do you mind telling me why a private investigator has such an interest in this? In me?" Garrus had the sense that most of what Butler was saying was scripted. Like he'd been planning to give this speech for a while. Maybe not to Garrus and Sidonis, but to someone. He was too loose-lipped with half his information and holding something back to boot. He could see it Butler's eyes, the way his jaw hitched, like what he really wanted to say was on the edge of his tongue.
Butler seemed to wrestle with some inner thought for a few moments before he started to speak.
"Thralog's been peddling to kids right? Everyone knows that. And nobody cares. This is Omega. Thralog is an insignificant blip in the grand scheme of things." Butler paused, rolling the cigar around his fingers. Garrus wondered idly if the man ever planned on actually lighting it. "But then a week ago I started hearing reports that dealers were disappearing. Then suppliers. Drivers. Anyone connected to him. So I look into it right? Get some eye-witness accounts. All the same. Turian. Blue armor. Voice like cold butter being scraped over a cheese grater."
"He wasn't doing those things alone, you know." Sidonis muttered, sounding mildly offended.
"Sloppy, you know?" Butler continued, wagging a finger. "You trying to get into the business of pissing people off, you need to keep your identity secret. You know? Like that nutter down in Doru district what calls himself The Scourge? Wear a helmet for chrissakes. Get a codename."
It was a valid point, though Garrus found himself wondering where Butler was going with this. He'd asked a simple question.
"Nobody cares right now, people, especially drug dealers die all the time. But what you're talking about, taking the fight to the big dogs? You start whacking hornets' nest and don't be surprised when it ain't candy what comes out, capiche?"
Whatever the human was talking about, most of it did not translate correctly. The difficulty with idioms from other languages. But the part that did translate made a lot of sense. The higher profile the bodies that stacked up, the more people would take notice. That was good, that was what Garrus wanted. To let the scum know that someone was coming to put an end to them. For the civilians to know that there was hope. But it would be important not to get ahead of himself.
"Look, the detective business ain't doing so well. People go missing left and right, and I'm lucky if half the time I can find some pieces of them. What you two have been doing—it ain't much but it means something. I want to help. What else am I gonna do with these files yeah?" The human smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was holding something back, that much Garrus was sure of. But he seemed honest enough about what he had shared. What was it Shepard had always said? Some human thing about trying to see the best in people.
"What about your partner?"
"Ah, Sensat? He's on board with anything. We were almost brother-in-law's you know? I ever mention that? I guarantee if I tell him to follow your lead, he will okay?"
"Alright," Garrus said after a moment, trying to picture a pair of sisters interested in this man and the crazy salarian. "Do you know where Thralog is holing up?"
Butler chuckled, rubbing his hands together.
"Oho, do I?"
It had taken a few days to set up because things on Omega moved differently, had a different rhythm to it. Whereas the Citadel had a certain predictability to it, Omega was chaos. The station that never slept. Where anything could and did happen, because everything was for sale in one corner of the black market or another. But for the second time is as many weeks, Garrus was speechless at just how chaotic things could become. Like the fact that Thralog's little headquarters was already under assault when they arrived.
By a single human woman.
It kind of threw their whole plan in the gutter, where it drowned in the filth clogging the streets.
Garrus passed the binoculars back to Butler and upped the magnification on his visor. They were holed up in a building across the street, Sidonis having had major misgivings about posting up on a roof where they could get blown off again. They stared through the windows and tried to make sense of what they were seeing.
Roughly fifteen minutes ago, they'd been going over last minute weapons checks and looking at the map that had the layout of the building in question. Amazing what you could find on the extranet.
Ten minutes ago, she had shown up, loudly screaming an incoherent stream of human curses and laying waste to the front of Thralog's main warehouse.
"Another partner of yours that you forgot to mention?" Garrus asked, his visor showing him that the woman was wearing alliance standard armor. Filthy perhaps, but recognizable.
"Uh, no." Butler replied his jaw agape as he watched her eviscerate one of her opponents with her mind. "I was gonna ask if she was with you."
"Hm."
A biotic field shimmered into existence around one of the batarians, picking him up and slamming him into a nearby skycar before slamming him into the ground. And again. Then again. There didn't appear to be much left of his face on the third slam.
"Ah hell, we should probably be helping her." Butler muttered.
"Does she need it though?" Sensat said in wonder as the corpse she was slamming to the ground was flung across the street.
There was a pause as the four men exchanged looks, punctuated by screaming from the outside.
Garrus sucked at his teeth.
"Sidonis, you and Butler lay down a cover fire. I'll head out there with Sensat. Hopefully she won't kill us before she realizes we're on the same side."
"Are we sure she's on the same side as us?" Sidonis mused aloud, tapping the side on his head with his two of his three fingers.
There was a scream, and they turned back to the windows in time to see a warp field disintegrate some unlucky bastard's head. The other gang members fired fruitlessly in her direction, her barriers absorbing everything they were throwing at her. She was screaming bloody murder and interspersed with the curse words Garrus thought he could make out a name.
"Well, she hates Thralog's people with a passion. That's a start."
They headed for the door when Butler called out after them.
"Hey, remember what we discussed! Codenames in the field!"
Garrus paused by the door and nodded. They'd already decided what his would be.