44 Days ASR
The shuttle slewed hard to port, tossing Shepard into her safety harness, then the dampeners caught up and slammed her back the other way. "Five minutes until we landed safe and sound," she grumbled to herself. "Five bloody minutes." She leaned over to look through the door into the pilot compartment, waiting for Garrus to fill her in.
"Taking fire!" Garrus called back, glancing over his shoulder. The frustrated strain that flattened out his subvocals told Shepard that their situation looked sticky, but not yet hopeless. Not the best news, but she'd take it. The general turned back to his controls. "Wrex, concentrate fire on the line thirty degrees starboard."
Wrex's answering bellow coincided with another hard slam to port. "Got a bead on their heavies now. Quit busting my hump."
Another blast, that one kicking the shuttle right in the backside, threw Shepard up into her harness, then slammed her down into her seat hard enough that her tailbone and the backs of her thighs started singing a three part harmony. Even before Garrus managed to correct the little vessel's flight, it began to shake. Not a slight tremor, either, but a 'large dog just getting out of the bath, jowls flying everywhere' sort of shaking.
"Stabilizers are down," the general shouted back, his subvocals completely flat, edging into what she liked to call 'we'll be lucky to survive' mode. "Everyone get your helmets on, this isn't going to be subtle."
Putting on a helmet in a crashing ship amounted to no mean feat, a fact Shepard proved as she cracked herself right across the bridge of her nose in the process. Pain seared up her nose and into her sinuses, virulent enough that her eyes rained tears so thick that she could barely see. Mopping her face with her gloves, and cussing up a storm under her breath, she managed to wrangle the menace onto her head and seal it.
She hit her medigel when she felt a tickle under her nose. At least she didn't think she'd broken it.
"Try not to crash us right in front of the enemy," Wrex bellowed.
"I'm trying to steer us away from them," Garrus said, his voice low and snarling. The shuttle half rolled to port, then overcorrected the other way. "It's like trying to fly a drunken krogan."
Shepard glanced across the shuttle's passenger compartment at the other occupants. The Marines sat, tense but judging by the glares levelled on the three krogan opposite them, it wasn't because of crashing. Two of the krogan didn't appear the slightest bit phased by the shuttle's bathing Saint Bernard maneuvers. However, the expression on the third krogan's face had Shepard searching under his seat for a puddle.
To Shepard's far left, Jack just reclined in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, her body swinging loosely with every jolt and weave. And, at Shepard's right elbow, Urdnot Bakara sat almost unnaturally still, as if she defied the laws of physics.
To say that the krogan shaman's attendance on their little adventure had been a surprise would amount to a pretty monumental understatement. Shepard had kissed Nihlus goodbye and headed over to the Passch expecting to meet up with Wrex. Garrus hadn't mentioned anyone else accompanying the krogan on the mission. What awaited them was the clan leader, the shaman, and six battlemasters.
According to Wrex, the warlord, Okeer, was one of the most hated krogan in their history, and Wrex had faced an overwhelming number of volunteers to make sure O'Keer never left Korlus alive. Bakara had insisted on coming along to be sure that revenge didn't destroy anything that might lead to a genophage cure.
"There's nowhere to crash this thing that won't get us all killed," Garrus called back, effort fracturing his words, "other than where the Blue Suns have their line set."
Shepard activated her omnitool and brought up the scans of the area. He was right about the terrain. They were thick in the midst of wrecked ships. The Blue Suns had set themselves up a long open deck. "How stable do you think that deck they're on is?" she shouted back. "Strong enough to support a crashing shuttle?"
"No! Shepard!" Wrex looked back. "Tell me you're not thinking thresher maw!"
She drew her idea over the scan to help Garrus guide the shuttle in along the path that would take out the maximum number of mercs. At least, she hoped it would. "That's exactly what I'm thinking, Brother Wrex." She sent the information to the console. "We're crashing anyway. If we're going to trash our ride, might as well send her through the belly of the beast."
Garrus grunted when the console lit up with her plan. "If it wasn't our best chance to avoid death … ." His hands flew over the controls. "I'll do my best. Everyone hang on."
Shepard tightened her restraints and closed her eyes. After a second, she opened them again and looked around.
Something's wrong.
Looking forward into the cockpit, she saw that both Garrus and Wrex worked calmly, focused on the task at hand. Other than the christmas tree of console warning lights, there was no other sign of imminent death. No smoke or flame.
Something's missing.
The rest of the passengers remained calm. Even the terrified krogan sat quietly, eyes closed, his lips moving behind his faceplate as if praying to his gods or ancestors. Still, the nagging sensation pricked the back of her neck. She'd crashed more than a few times, and something was completely absent from that moment. But … .
She closed her eyes once again, listening to the ambient sounds, the engines and thrusters … the creak and groan of tortured metal as the shuttle torqued first one way then the other. Her heartbeat … quick and … .
Except it wasn't quick. Her heart thumped slow and steady in her chest. Sitting up, she held her hand out, fingers spread, and stared at it with a combination of wonder and dread. Absolutely still.
Fear is what's missing, Janey. Somewhere along the line, you've lost your fear of dying.
She scowled and glanced back at the cockpit as the engines changed pitch, Garrus dropping them down and levelling out so that they skated across the platform rather than tumbling end for end. Watching the readouts without really seeing them, Shepard ran back through the last month of her life. Over that expanse of time, a great many things had terrified her, but dying … she couldn't think of a single instance.
"Impact in ten … nine … ."
Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and grasped the handles on the harness, then tucked her chin into her chest. There was nothing to fear beyond death. Life … life was the thing to fear.
"... three … two … one." The impact flung Shepard into her harness and drove the air from her lungs, friction and momentum making her their bitch. Auditory insanity wrapped her skull in crushing, skeletal fingers: metal screamed, engines roared, and rockets pounded the hull with gigantic, fiery fists. For what seemed like a good half hour, the shuttle slid along the rusted out metal deck plating, but then the right front corner caught on something, spinning the entire vehicle around twice … three times before it slammed to a deafeningly silent, rocking halt.
The only beings that don't fear death are the dead.
She opened her eyes, wincing at the bright light pouring in through the holes in the shuttle's hull. Distant gunfire and the tick of cooling metal rang loud in the vacuum left when Garrus shut the shuttle's systems down. Gunfire. They'd landed in the middle of the Blue Suns' forward line. Prying her fingers off her harness, she shook off the morbid shadow.
"Come on, people," she whispered just loud enough for the rest of the occupants to hear her. "Anyone hurt?" She unbuckled her harness and got up. "Sound off. Anyone hurt?"
"Vakarian, okay."
"Wrex, okay."
The rest of them spoke up, nothing worse than bruises to report.
Shepard met Garrus's eyes, admiration tweaking one corner of her mouth. "Nice landing, General." She winked, then focused on the mercs outside the shuttle.
Voices crept into the silence. First groans, then calls for help and then the unmistakable sound of an officer rallying the remainder of her troops.
"Okay," Shepard whispered, "everyone up on your feet, weapons in hand. Stay quiet, we want them to think we're incapacitated as long as we can." First order of business: see how fucked they were. "Garrus, the sensors still work?" When he grunted affirmation, she crept over to a long gash torn in the side of the shuttle, just above the floor. No doubt where the object responsible for their spin snagged.
Lowering herself onto her belly, she peered out the hole. A whole load of bodies lay strewn and sprawled. The deck hadn't been wide enough for the mercs to get out of the shuttle's path. She didn't see anyone moving, and popped back up onto her feet. "Anything?" she asked, sticking her head through into the cockpit.
"A dozen but they must have all jumped down, they're all on the ground," Garrus replied. "The deck isn't solid, they're going to be able to shoot up at us."
Shepard's mind started whirling, and she waved for them to join everyone in the back. "You know where we need to go once we're out there, so you and Wrex take point. Move fast and low. How far are we going to have to drop?"
Garrus shrugged his assault rifle into his hand. "Seven metres."
Shepard winced. "Two storeys." She moved to the hatch and popped the seal. "Wrex, battlemasters … when you get to the end, hit the deck. You'll lower Jack, myself, Bakara, and Woo as far as you can before letting go. Garrus, grab as good a sniper perch as you can and try to force the Suns into cover." She looked from face to face then leaned down and lifted the hatch. "Let's go fuck shit up, people."
Any doubts Shepard harboured regarding bringing Bakara along disappeared the moment they hit the deck running. The shaman moved with the easy, badass grace of a seasoned warrior. As Shepard ran alongside the krogan and the young biotic, she pulled in deep, ecstatic breaths, an exhilarated grin burning across her face. The sun warmed their heads, a bright fall morning dawned on Korlus, and battle awaited.
"It's a good day," she said to no one in particular.
The deck ran for nearly eighty metres before ending in an abrupt tear of jagged, twisted metal. As smooth as clockwork, Garrus took cover against the railing, sniper rifle in hand, and set the mercs running for cover. Wrex and the three battlemasters hit the deck, twisting to reach up for the hands of the few too squishy to jump. Shepard grabbed hold of Wrex's wrists, his giant hands locking around hers, and then jumped, the clan leader swinging her around with the ease of a parent twirling their four-year-old in the park.
Explosive giggles set in as she sailed through the air. "Higher, Wrex, swing me higher!" she called, giggles bursting into laughter when he cursed and let her drop. Then mud. Her feet hit the ground, legs sinking knee high into greasy slop before hitting anything remotely solid. For about a second, she congratulated herself on sticking the landing, the next, she landed flat on her back, feet in the air.
Her entire universe turned a sickly gray-brown as her head snapped back, muck pouring over her. She flailed, panicking for a half second before she realized she'd left her helmet on, and she could still breathe. Pulling her arms into her sides, she pressed down, trying to heave herself up, but the muck proved just thick enough that she'd created a suction pocket.
When sitting up didn't work, she tried to roll over, managing to roll about ten degrees before flopping back. Her next attempt, rocking like a stuck Mako, just ended up digging her in deeper. Finally, she gave up and tipped her ear to her shoulder to activate her comms.
"Hey, people," she called, helpless, giddy laughter setting in. "I know most of you are probably shooting the bad guys and the rest are laughing your asses off, but when you get a second, could someone lift me onto my feet." It took a good five minutes before the sound of biotics and gunfire ceased.
"Wrex," Garrus's voice came through on the radio, "are you filming this? We're going to want a record for posterity. Our kids and grandkids are going to want to see this."
"Been taking vid since the moment she landed," the krogan confirmed.
"Stop making fun of your commanding officer and get me out of the mud," she hollered, slamming a petulant fist down into the slop.
"Hey!" Garrus said, his voice oscillating between annoyance and humour. "I'm not covered in muck and would like to stay that way." She heard slow, sucking footsteps walk around her. "Stop flailing, or I'll leave you here."
Jack laughed. "That's the fucking saddest thing I've ever seen, Shepard."
Shepard flashed her middle finger, earning another laugh from the biotic. "Fuck you very much, Jack. Thank you."
Strong hands hooked through her armpits. As Garrus pulled, Shepard felt her front side ripping away to leave her entire back side buried in the mud forever.
"Sweet spirits, Shepard, how did you get this stuck?" He heaved, nearly pulling her shoulders out of joint. A heavy sigh and grumble came through the comms, then he worked his arms further around her, clasping hands in the center of her chest. "Okay, this too is not going to be subtle." He adjusted his grip a little. "Wrex, spot me. If she just pops loose, I don't want to end up on my ass, needing rescue."
Shepard tried to help, but then Garrus's helmet thumped gently against hers. "Hold still. I've got you." He took a deep breath. "Okay, on three. One … ." A sharp jerk knocked the wind out of her, but after a second of painfully intense pressure, the mud let out a truly grotesque sucking sound and released its hold on her.
Garrus staggered back far enough that she thought for sure the krogan would be trying to pull them both loose, but then he stabilized and set her on her feet. When he let go of her, she scraped at the visor of her helmet, trying to clear it. No good.
"Someone pour some water over my hands, please?" she asked, holding her hands out. She felt the pressure and then the slight chill of water glugging from a bottle to sluice over her gloves.
"You're good to go," Garrus said a minute later. "Do you want me to do your helmet as well?"
"No, I'm going to take it off." She reached up and snapped the seals. "Can't stand the thing at the best of times." Hitting the retract control, she let out a long sigh of relief and eased it off her head.. "Much better. Damn thing's claustrophobic when I can see out." She clipped it to her belt in the back, then sorted herself, shrugging her armour higher on her shoulders and cracking her neck.
That done, she looked up at the general. She supposed she should feel embarrassed, maybe even annoyed that she'd needed to be rescued. Instead, she just felt warm and content, despite the mud dripping off every, single body part. It was all right for her fiance to rescue her from the occasional mud puddle. She grinned at Garrus and reached up, grabbing hold of his cowl. She pulled him down to her eye level. "Thanks. You're gorgeous covered in mud. It really highlights your eyes."
He chuffed. "It does nothing for you." She pressed an enthusiastic kiss against his mouth, then released him. Remaining bent over for a half second, he said. "A little more so now, maybe."
"Okay, kissing part over, behaving like professionals and fucking shit up commencing." Shepard waved toward the road that led further into the labyrinth of junked ships, the elation she'd felt earlier not waning for her wallow in the mud. "Move out. Vakarian and Wrex back on point." She pointed to Woo and one of the krogans … Barl? That sounded right. "You two are walking drag. Take it slow, save your strength, and keep your eyes open, people."
Shepard shrugged her Mattock into her hand, grimacing at the mud clogging it up. "Oh, damn, look at you." She grabbed a bottle of water and rinsed it off. "We're going to need to find a solid, defensible rest area and hose down once we're clear of this." She glanced up at the sun, its rays already good and damned hot for 0800 in the morning. They'd be glad of their suits' climate control well before noon.
She headed over to the first of the bodies, then turned back, giving Jack a nod. "Grab their water bottles. We're going to need them, I think." She dove into the corpses' packs, pulling out bottles and distributing. When she threw one to Bakara, she held the shaman's gaze. "You doing all right?"
The giant head bowed in a single, graceful nod, the krogan's eyes sparkling. "I'm fine, Captain."
"Hells yes, you are," Jack crowed. "They were all gawking at her, and she just walked right up. Bam! Shotgun to the gut, then shotgun to the head." The biotic threw Garrus and Wrex each a bottle. "Pure badass."
Shepard grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Very good, then. Glad to have you on the team, Shaman."
"Glad to be here." The krogan chuckled and took position on the flank behind Wrex.
Once they all had a couple of extra bottles, she gave Garrus the signal to move out. They had a long day ahead of them, far too much of it wallowing in mud up to their knees. She glanced around. All right, up to her knees.
They hiked for ten minutes before she brought them to a halt and had them spread out to rest. Her thighs burned with enough vigor that she knew that someone would need to put her in a wheelbarrow and push her around if she slept for longer than a couple of hours. Garrus and one of the krogan took positions on the leading and trailing flanks to watch for enemy, but she wasn't expecting anything for a hundred metres or so yet. They'd broken through the Blue Suns' outer line, but the mercs had staggered lines around a nearly kilometre wide radius.
Shepard crouched next to Garrus and opened the map they'd created from EDI's scans. "Okay, so we've got Blue Suns spread out around three quarters of this circle." She traced a fingertip around the arc. "Their lines range from a hundred metres out from Okeer's lab to a kilometre. And the Collectors are moving in from the north, a straight wedge driving in along one flank." She paused and looked up, searching the ice blue of his stare for any sign of the connection that eluded her.
"So what's fighting out from the center?" he asked. He snapped the seal on his helmet and peeled it off, setting it next to him. "I don't know. For someone who called for help days ago, Okeer seems to be doing a hell of a job keeping everyone out of his base."
"Yeah." She opened her comm to the Ypres. "EDI, can you send me updated scans with troop placement, please?"
"Sending now, Shepard," the AI's even, pleasant tone replied. "The Collector lines have not changed. They appear to have bunkered down rather than pushing toward the base."
Shepard winced and clicked her tongue against the side of her mouth. "That's not good news. What are they waiting for?" She lifted her hand to her ear, her mind whirring through the different reasons they might bunker down. Most of them sat like lumps of cold mud in her belly. "And there is no sign of their cruisers?"
"None, Captain," Steve replied. "We're monitoring the area around the relay in case they jump in, but it's all quiet up here."
"Okay, keep sharp. The Collectors aren't sitting out because it's time for their tea. I'll be in touch. Shepard, out." She closed the channel then opened another. "Beta Team, you out there? Sparky, you breathin?" Shifting a little to rest one leg, Shepard leaned back against the cover. "My legs are going to fall off from heaving through this muck," she muttered.
Jack laughed. "Yeah, but you'll have thighs like redwoods." The biotic flopped down on a concrete pad and stretched her legs out, not seeming to mind the mud in the least.
"Great, just what I needed. Skinny leetle body, great beeg legs." Shepard frowned. Where was Beta Team? They hadn't reported taking fire. "Beta Team, report your status. If you can't reply, squawk." She shook her head when Garrus looked down at her, brow plates raised, questioning. "Beta Team. Sparky, respond damn it."
The frequency crackled a couple of times, then cleared. "Beta Team here, Shepard. Just landed. Didn't take any fire on the way in," Kaidan said, his voice pulling a relieved sigh from all the way down in Shepard's boots. "We saw what was left of your shuttle. Strange, but I didn't know there were thresher maws on Korlus."
"Smart-mouthed people live short, tormented lives, Sparky," Shepard replied, a broad grin cracking the drying mud on her face. "We took fire coming in, but all hands present and accounted for. You're welcome, by the way, for distracting them." She switched legs. "How long until you've got us covered?"
"We're just about there, now. A couple of krogan ran out of the wrecks at us, slowed us down a couple of minutes."
Her grin folded into a scowl. "Krogan? What the hell is going on here?" She pressed that question aside for a second. "All right. Squawk when you're in position, Sparky. We'll move out once you're ready."
"Aye, aye, ma'am. Beta Team, out." The channel closed.
"Krogan?" Garrus asked, his face looking as confused as Shepard felt. "What about krogan?"
Finally giving in to her legs' complaints, Shepard sat cross-legged in the mud. "Beta Team were attacked by a couple that charged out of the wrecks." She shook her head and reached up to scratch her temple. "If Okeer has an army of them, that might explain why his base is still clear." She opened the new scans from EDI.
"The Blue Suns are losing ground, being driven back," Garrus said, pointing to a spot in the west. "That might be Okeer's krogan." He let out a hard, noisy sigh and shrugged. "We need better traction on whatever is going on here."
A soft rumble of agreement rolled from Shepard's throat, but before she could reply, her omnitool dinged. She jumped a little, startled, then chuckled. "Getting jumpy in my old age." She glanced toward the Suns' lines to see if anything closed on them. Gunfire echoed from further into the jungle of wrecks, but nothing that indicated movement toward their position.
She hit the button to answer the call before the tool dinged again. A wide grin greeted Nihlus's appearance. "Hey there, handsome." Her fingers lifted, longing to reach through the image and brush the length of his mandible.
She squinted against the lighting, the windows behind him turned him into a silhouette, only his familia notas showing up clearly. He looked amazing, clean and smart in a fancy suit. "Wow, you are intensely clean. Look at that." She held the omnitool out toward Garrus, unable to hide a teasing chuckle at the sheer amount of muck clinging to her general. "Garrus, look how clean he is. That's disgusting."
Garrus's growl just made her cackle harder as he pushed her arm away.
When she looked into Nihlus's eyes once more, she shrugged and said, "Forgive the general, he's got mud ground into every seam, orifice, and pore. We all do." She wriggled, some of that mud gritting between her inner thigh and the elastic around the leg of her panties. Fifteen minutes. Good lord, what was it going to be like after a day?
"Are you kidding me?" Wrex said, his voice a low rumble of joy. "This planet challenges you, stalks you like a pack of varren, death waiting one mistake away."
"Shut up, Wrex," Garrus grumbled. "You not allowed to speak until we've all evac'd this buratrum, taken showers, and are clean and dry."
Shepard waited, watching them with one eyebrow raised until they stopped grousing and turned back to keeping watch. "So, what can we do for you, oh disgustingly clean one?" she asked. A burst of gunfire echoed through the wreck from maybe five levels above her. She pushed up into a crouch and twisted, glancing over her shoulder and the cover, watching for unwelcome guests.
"Alenko," Garrus said into his comms, "you got eyes on this firefight?" He listened for a moment, then nodded. "Roger that. Vakarian, out." Turning to meet Shepard's eyes, the general shook his head. "Seven levels up," he said.
Nihlus meanwhile nearly jumped through the screen. "Are you being shot at?" he asked, worry dropping his brow plates and mandibles.
She shook her head. "Not currently. We've only been on the ground for about fifteen minutes." She grinned. "Long story, and about … four factions all trying to kill each other. So … to what do I owe the intense pleasure of your face, cikabeknai?" He really did look good: worried about her and something else, but happy. He and his squad must have had a decent trip.
"I think I already know the answer … " His face disappeared in favour of a view of a modern, austere sort of apartment and a figure dressed in a ragged, gray cloak. "... but is this Subject Alpha?"
There was no mistaking that limp, nor the way he held himself. "Yeah, that looks like Al, all right." Now she knew what he was worried about. The grin dissolved as she watched the cloaked form touching objects with a familiar sort of longing. Damn. She hadn't been sure what Al would do when it came to Nihlus, so she'd kept silent on the subject. She figured there was no point in unearthing old ghosts for Nihlus if Al planned to fly below the radar. Lowering her voice and angling herself away from the others to keep the conversation just between them, she asked, "Are you okay? There weren't any surprises waiting for you?"
The apartment disappeared, Nihlus's face replacing it. The Spectre shook his head and shrugged as if to say none of it mattered, but the set to his mandibles gave away how disconcerted he felt. "I'm fine. He broke into Saren's office in the apartment, went through the boxes, and set out a few things for me."
Damn it. Why was Al messing with Nihlus? If he wanted to turn over information about Sovereign and the Reapers, he should have given it to her. She pressed her lips into a tight frown, then spat a little mud. It tasted like rotting rat carcasses and vomit. Damn. Damn. Damn. Was it kinder to tell Nihlus? Smarter not to? No, she needed to tell him. "Nihlus, about Al … ." She hesitated, bracing to deliver the blow. "He's—"
"Yeah," Nihlus said, cutting her off, "I think I just figured it out." His shoulders lifted and dropped in a helpless, automatic sort of shrug that tugged at her heart. She needed to be there with him. That was it. After the three of them completed their missions, they didn't split up again, not if the universe was going to keep taking the cheap shots at them. "How, Jane? How could it be?"
Gunfire erupted once more, but that time she heard rounds thumping into her cover. The others opened fire, the roar of eight guns nearly deafening. She focused back on Nihlus, keeping her head down. "Same way I'm here, love. Be careful." A round tore a chunk out of the rusting metal next to her head. Fuck, as much as she wanted to comfort him, she needed to start dispensing bullets. "I don't think he's a danger, but who knows," she said and kissed at him, trying to put enough into her words to get him through until they could talk properly. "Love you, talk later."
"And I love you, haksaya kubenar."
She hit the omnitool to close the message and grabbed her Mattock. "What have we got?" she called, leaning up enough to peer over the cover and locate the enemy.
"Blue Suns," Jack yelled over her shoulder as she sent a shockwave thundering across the open area. "These ones seem to be on the run from something."
Spotting good cover about twenty metres closer to the Blue Suns' line, she crept around Bakara and Garrus to crouch at the end of the low wall. "We need to catch ourselves a Blue Sun, find out what the hell is going on." She scanned the enemy. They were disorganized, firing in two directions. That confirmed Jack's theory.
A young man staggered out of cover and limped a little closer to Shepard's position before throwing himself behind a crate. A cold smile splintered across her face, a fracture through thin ice. "That's my target, people. Leave him alive." She braced to run. "Moving up," she called. "Give me some cover." She leaned out and launched her drone in behind the Suns, then bolted.
Crouched low, she ran flat-footed, her rifle spitting rounds toward anything wearing blue armour. Ducking in behind a piece of machinery around a corner from the kid's position, she concentrated on taking out the rest of the merc squad. "Jack, move up and send some shockwaves down this deck. Just avoid the kid." She leaned out to make sure her quarry wasn't trying to escape, then put two rounds into the crate, either side of his head. Chuckling at his shrill bleat of terror, she turned her attention to a centurion. A strong overload tore down the turian's shields and staggered him enough to finish him off. For just over five minutes the pulse of battle pounded out its rhythm, a tune so well known that she could dance to it in her sleep. Overload, fire. Overload, fire. Then silence.
Well, except for the whispered litany from behind the crate ahead and to her left. "Shit," the kid muttered. "Shit. Won't stop bleeding. Gunna … I'm gunna …." He collapsed onto one hip, holding himself up on a shaky arm. "Son of a bitch."
Shepard switched her Mattock for her sidearm and strode over, the pistol aimed at his head. Despite all his moaning, his wounds didn't look that bad. "Just hit the medigel, kid. You're far from dead." She chuckled, lacing it with ice shards and metal spikes. "For now."
"I knew it wasn't berserkers," he said, spitting the words at her. "Your mercs, or Alliance. Go screw yourselves. I won't tell you shit."
Shepard laughed, bright and merry. "Your bravado really is adorable, but yeah, you're going to sing like a canary, sweetheart, and you're going to do it quick-like, see?" She pressed her lips tight as Garrus greeted her hard-boiled detective voice with a choice curse. Crouching down, she held her hand out for the kid's gun. "So … " She took the weapon and laid her arm across her thigh. "... what in the name of holy fuck is going on here?"