Chapter 6! Enjoy!
Everything in this fanfic is owned by Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.
Garrus smiled to himself as he paced around his apartment. Most of the furniture had already been sold off for really good money. Who would've thought that fighting alongside the saviour of the citadel would make my dining table twice as valuable! He walked over to the foam mattress in his bedroom and looked over the belongings he had organized on top of it.
Garrus tapped his chin as he listed everything, "New rifle, new handgun, heat sinks, old rifle, old handgun, tungsten cubes, armour, medigel, rations, omnitool… where the hell did I put my visor?" The turian's eyes went wide as his eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. He raised his hand to slap his forehead when he felt the metal of the visor on his face. Chuckling, he took a datapad from the back pocket of his pants, re-checking the ticket he'd bought to go to Omega.
"Three hours… I can make a quick lunch before I go," He muttered to himself as he walked into the living room and turned on the cooking unit.
…
Garrus stood up from his shuttle seat armoured and armed and walked out into the streets of Omega. The stench of Vorcha, levo-food and vomit filled his nostrils even through his helmet as he headed for the rapid transit terminal. He input the coordinates he wanted the sky-car to take him to and threw his duffel bag inside before jumping in himself. The vehicle lifted off, heading for the higher levels of the space station. Garrus brought up the file on Omega's local boss of the Blue Suns, Tarak on his omnitool. The batarian's mugshot grimaced at him and Garrus gave the picture a sneer as Omega's lights flashed outside. I'll get you soon enough, he reassured himself.
The turian knew he couldn't just go up to the man and kill him. Tarak would be replaced and nothing would be accomplished. He had to destroy the Blue suns on all its levels, but an endeavour like that required planning, funds, and at least an extra pair of hands. During his years in C-sec, he had created a large base of contacts amongst the criminal world of the galaxy, but Omega was uncharted territory for him, much like all of the Terminus. He needed to get contacts, informants and allies, and for that he needed to get his hands dirty. The turian hummed a melody reminiscent of his childhood as he went over the biggest steps of his plan. A mercenary company was starting up on Omega and growing rapidly. Too rapidly to be growing just of their own efforts, so they had to have a financial backer who was giving them ridiculous amounts of funds. He landed a job as cannon fodder (it was the best he could do with a fake ID and zero experience to show for), where he would start building his network and save as much money as he could. After a few months he would use the funds he'd previously accrued from being Garrus to leave the company and take his most trusted to actually get to destroying the Blue Suns in Omega.
The sky-car landed and Garrus jumped off, pepped up from going over his master plan. A turian in full armour walked up to him, rifle in hand. Garrus eyed the weapon as his visor scanned it, revealing that it was the best model of the Carniflex line, updated with the new disposable heat sink system. He smiled to himself, thanking the Geth for accidentally giving organics the idea of disposable clips. At least we gained something from the battle against Sovereign.
"This level is off limits, boy. Property of Omicron Company. If you want to hire services, go to the office in the next level," the approaching turian's gravelly voice crackled through the helmet speakers. Garrus identified the tone to be characteristic of an older turian.
"I work here, old man," Garrus adjusted the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, "I'm here to see Tarkon about my first job… and accommodation."
The older turian huffed at being called old man. After a second, he brought up his omnitool, "Your name, whelp?"
"Docimus Kryik," Garrus crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground impatiently as the other turian looked over a list before nodding and stepping to the side, tilting his head in the direction Garrus needed to go.
…
"Hi, I'm Do-"
"Yeah, Kryik, I know. Tarkon, pleased to meet you or whatever. Old man Juvinis told me you were coming. Sit down," Tarkon the salarian was typing furiously away on a datapad. He tilted his head towards a chair in front of him without taking his eyes of the holographic display. Garrus sat down without saying a word, "I see you have your own equipment. That's good, since your contract says you won't get any from us until the scheduled renewal in three months. Are you aware of the fact that denying a job means contract termination? You signed it, so I suppose you do. You look like a smart kid," Tarkon still refused to look up from his datapad.
Garrus grunted, not knowing what else to say. The salarian continued, "You're going to need a locker and a key to your room. It's on the next level. Here's the key to the locker. Don't lose it or you'll get a penalty on your paycheck. The door to your room has been configured to open automatically and blah, blah, blah. Go and leave whatever you won't be using and come back for your first job."
The turian reached out to grab the key that was thrown on the desk and the Salarian's big eyes shot up to look at Garrus, "What are you waiting for, Turian? I've got stuff to do and I can't work with you fidgeting about. Go, go!"
Shaking his head, Garrus uttered a quick 'Spirits!' as he grabbed the key and stood up, storming off to the stairs leading up to the barracks where he would be staying.
…
"Ah! Decimus Krook!" Tarkon the salarian looked up from his desk for half a moment before digging around a pile of datapads.
"It's uh… Docimus Kr-"
"I don't give a damn, Decimus. Here's your first job. It's in the lower levels. All the info is on the datapad so there's no use in us talking anymore. Get going. Fuck off," the salarian went back to looking at his screen, reusming his frenetic typing pace.
Garrus's nostrils flared and his mandibles tightened around his face. His hands ached to punch some teeth out of the salarian's mouth but he turned around and left for the rapid transit station instead. He squeezed the sides of the datapad to channel his anger into something until the device protested with a pressure warning and he was more able to read through the mission description. He was to guard a party being held by a Batarian extremist group… somehow he felt Tarkon didn't even read through the mission details. At least the pay is decent.
…
"They sent us a fucking skullface to watch over our event?" One of the participating Batarians tilted his head to the side in a Batarian insult as he made the rhetoric question to Garrus.
The music inside the building he was supposed to guard made his head throb, and the guests weren't helping at all. The contract said he could leave the place if the patrons physically assaulted him, but that he had to respect their prejudices. The customer was always right, after all. After a couple of hours, however, Garrus started to wonder what physical assault actually counted for. The nicest guests would limit themselves to sneering or baring their teeth at the turian. Others resorted to offensive remarks, like the popular term skullface or spat on the ground near his boots. The worst ones were the mockers: the batarians that would make the best out of the contract, bullying the turian, in attempts to obtain a reaction. Insults were thrown his way to no end, and he was glad he had his helmet on so the aliens wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing his helpless glare.
"I swear I'm gonna ask for extra pay when I get back. This is ridiculous."
…
"Ah, Decimus. The client said you did an excellent job for a… let's say 'Turian' is what he said. Your funds have been transferred. Here's a dinner voucher. You sure have earned it! Now get going, I'm busy."
Garrus didn't need to answer, let alone want to. He picked the nano-carbide film that was the voucher from the Salarian's outstretched hand quickly before heading for the mess hall on the lower level. People of all races sat at long tables, sucking on vacuum sealed packs of various different shades of metallic brown. The turian walked over to the food dispensing machine and slipped his voucher into a port. A menu of various Turian delicacies came up on a holoscreen and Garrus raised a brow-plate questioningly. Selecting the simplest dish, wary that anything complicated might taste horribly wrong, a brown bag similar to the ones his colleagues were eating from was dispensed from the machine. Garrus picked it up and felt the warmth permeate through his gloves as he made his way to an empty table. Opening a corner of the bag as he sat down, he sucked in the pureed dish (which actually didn't taste too far off from the real thing) from the brown bag. A salarian walked up to his table and sat in front of him. Garrus hummed with curiosity, acknowledging his new companion.
"So you're the new recruit, Decimus?"
"Docimus," Garrus answered dryly, tired of everyone he'd spoken to up to now mucking up his name.
The salarian rubbed its chin, "Huh, that's odd… Juvinis said you were called Decimus."
"Who, the turian guard? He's wrong," the turian mumbled.
"Ooooh, someone's being a moody varren. Long day?"
"Had to guard a batarian meeting in the lower levels," Garrus rested his head on his palm as he took another sip from the bag.
"Why the hell did you think taking a job with batarians was a good idea?" The salarian raised its eyebrows in disbelief.
"I didn't. Tarkon gave it to me."
The salarian chuckled, "Ah, yes. The probation period. I heard they did that for the newer recruits. Bummer, huh? Anyways, my name is Untar. I've got a room in the barracks with some pals from work, and one of the beds recently became vacant. Working hazard, you know the drill. I came here to offer you the spot, unless you want to sleep in the higher level," the salarian lowered his voice to a whisper, "the batarians are sticking together in that level, but there is an empty room where I guess they wouldn't bother you."
Garrus furrowed his brow plates, going over his options. After today he really just wanted to be relaxed and alone, so he smiled at Untar and denied the offer before getting up and going for his locker.
The empty room on the higher level of the facility had recently been stripped of the main components of the lighting unit, as well as the couches on most of the bunk beds, save one. There used to be a cooling unit for beverages in the corner, but it had been dragged off into another room. As Garrus sat on the last intact bed, he could hear his batarian neighbours listening to music and drinking, probably having cold drinks from the cooling unit they'd surely stolen from his room. He sighed before laying down and doing his best to go to sleep.
...
The sound of footsteps creeping on the other side of the ceiling woke Garrus up. The turian sat up and looked around groggily as he squinted to make out his surroundings. He wracked his mind thinking about the layout of the barracks and came to the conclusion there was no other room above them. Someone was walking along the roof. He didn't think much of it but stayed alert, paying careful attention to the footsteps. They stopped after a moment, and Garrus was about to fall asleep again when the taddle-tale whistle of a silenced shot came from afar, interrupting the silence. He stood up and drew his handgun from under his pillow. Stalking to the entrance of his room, he used his omnitool to disable the locks on his door and made the opening mechanism go into manual mode. The turian pulled the door open slowly to minimize the noise and peaked out into the corridor outside. The lights were off, but his keen eyesight made it easy to navigate. He headed for the stairs that lead up to the roof and listened intently. There was no sound coming from anywhere, so he crept up the stairs. When he reached the door leading out, he noticed it had been opened the same way he did on the door to his own room. He crept outside onto the roof and Omega's lights and sounds came rushing to meet him.
Garrus squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. Standing on the rooftop, He checked his belt for extra thermal clips before looking around. A streak of red on the floor caught his attention. Walking over to it, he knew it was blood. The streak tapered off going around an air conditioning unit and Garrus followed it. The droplets zig-zagged around different pipes meant to carry water and electric wires, heading for the backside of the building. Garrus huffed as he saw the trail end at the edge, and he peeked over to see the figure of a dead turian on the ground, three stories down. Juvinis.
A silenced gunshot rang from inside the building, and Garrus jogged, gun raised back to the entrance. Another one came as he descended the stairs into the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he stalked around the building. His heart raced as he turned corners, unable to find anyone in the corridors. The sound of a silenced shot made him gasp and whirl around in the direction it came from. He stalked at a brisk pace in that direction when two, then three more rang along the corridor. They were coming from his neighbouring room. He kept his gun raised and looked at the radar on his visor but there was nothing to be shown until a jamming warning appeared on his HUD.
I've got you now, he thought to himself as he peeked into the room. He made out the dead mercs inside, but there was nothing else out of the ordinary. Garrus burst into the room, sweeping through it efficiently. Finding nothing he turned around to search the rest of the building when he noticed a small light blinking on the floor. He approached carefully until he was sure it wasn't an explosive. The light was attached to a small black plastic box with an antenna. Picking it up, Garrus knew immediately what it was: a radar jammer. At that moment, his heart began racing when a yell began and was abruptly cut off by another muffled gunshot whistle. He ran into the corridor and sprinted towards the room where the noise came from. He was growing tired of playing cat and mouse, especially since he was losing.
…
Nicolas crept out of the room as Hal informed him one merc was heading towards him. He just needed to kill another roomful of them before he could move on to destroying property and getting the hell out of there. Hal, having tapped into the CCTV network of the building, instructed him to keep going until his first door. He made quick work of the sleeping batarians and laid down behind one of the dead mercs, waiting for the pesky turian who was awake and chasing him. The door opened silently, and Nicolas watched the shadow of the merc move along the wall beside him. He raised his gun and pointed straight at the back of the turian's head as it looked over the other dead mercs. Its shields would shrug off the first shot, which was unacceptable, as he'd lose the element of surprise and soon all the others would be alerted to his presence. He had to get close, and quickly. In one swift movement, he vaulted over the dead batarian and sprinted towards the turian, gun raised, but just as quickly, the turian turned around, his blue visor glowing in the dark. With a strong back handed blow, Nicolas' gun was sent flying, but the human was prepared for that and tackled the turian. The two crashed against the wall behind the larger alien as it raised a leg to kick Nicolas away. Remembering Garrus' training on the Normandy, he batted the leg away as it stretched and used his other hand to deliver a swift punch behind the turian's mandible, then another to the face, making it drop its gun. He ducked down to swipe the turian's legs out from under him, but it twisted in the air as it fell, grabbing Nicolas' armour collar on the way down. Overpowering the human, the turian grabbed Nicolas' helmet and drove it against the wall, cracking the visor and dazing him. The alien then dashed towards Nicolas' gun as the human came back to his senses and dove after the turian.
The two struggled as Nicolas tried in vain to disarm the turian when it aligned the gun to aim directly at his foot. It was able to squeeze out two silenced shots, which dented and then pierced the boot. The turian, surprised at Nicolas' absence of reaction, gave him the perfect opening for a head butt, which Nicolas took. The impact bent the turian's blue visor. Nicolas kicked the alien away and expanded his rifle, pointing it straight at the turian's face, which now looked all too familiar.
"Big Bird?" Nicolas' question was almost completely muffled by the helmet, but he didn't need an answer. The turian standing against the wall was undeniably Garrus. His gun remained pointed at the turian's forehead out of shear surprise. Not like he would notice anyway, it seemed like the head butt really hurt. A moment later, the turian groaned and nodded as Nicolas collapsed the rifle and put it on his back.
Garrus looked up eyed Nicolas' armour, "you're lucky I can hear you through your helmet, Broom head, or I would've kept fighting."
Nicolas scoffed as Hal partially raised his visor so his words could be heard clearly, "I pretty much had you beat. You shouldn't have taught me what I know."
"Yeah, I never thought I'd regret it," Garrus shook his head before his eyes went wide as the situation registered in his brain, "And what the hell are you doing?"
"Working… Anonymously. So you'd better keep your mouth shut about who I am," Nicolas closed his visor and Hal activated the speakers at the lowest volume.
Garrus squinted at Nicolas, his mandibles hugging his face tightly in a suspicious expression, "For who?"
Nicolas shuffled uncomfortably as he looked at his friend, "Someone who can get me to the Normandy's crash site."
The turian exhaled through his nose. His mind was racing through the people who could have that kind of information on Omega. The merc companies didn't have contact with the Shadow Broker unless they were receiving contracts, and there weren't many more powerful people on the station. He looked straight into the dark visor, where the human's eyes were, "You're working for Aria."
"We shouldn't talk of this here, Garrus, let's arrange some place to meet. After that, you need to go back to sleep. I'm still not done here," Nicolas looked towards the closed door behind him.
"Like hell I'm going back to sleep," Garrus took a step towards Nicolas, raising a hand and poking him square in the chest, "we are going to finish your job and get somewhere quiet, where you're going to tell me everything you've been up to, or I make a scene and the mercs downstairs come upstairs. You don't want that, right?" Garrus added a smile to the last part of his sentence, trying to show Nicolas he was kidding.
Nicolas sneered behind the cracked visor as Hal expanded the rifle behind his back, "Don't make me do something rash, Garrus."
The turian's eyes shot to the exposed stock of Nicolas' weapon and back to the visor, "Alright, Nicolas… I don't know what that asari has gotten into your head, but this isn't the way to deal with things. Let me help you with your job and then we talk things over, ok?"
Hal collapsed the rifle as he noticed Nicolas' heartrate lower. The human exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "Ok, we need to destroy half the weapons in this building. I also need to snap mugshots of the guys I've killed. There have to be thirty."
"Did you bring explosives?"
Nicolas smiled under the visor as he patted the pockets on his thighs, "A shit ton."
Garrus' mandibles parted into a turian grin, "Let's get to work, then."
…
Garrus raised his hand to his helmet as he crouched in the darkness, a small red light twinkling in front of the blue shine of his dimmed visor, "My charge is set, broom head. What about you?"
"I'm ready as well," came the response from the radio, "meet me at these coordinates."
The turian sneaked out of the facility through the rooftop, climbing down the side of the building and jogging down an alleyway to where Nicolas had instructed him. The human's dark figure was barely visible in the shadow of a dumpster bolted to a wall. Nicolas tossed a detonator to the turian, which he didn't hesitate on pressing. Half a second later, a muffled explosion came from the mercs' building.
"Reminds me of Virmire," Garrus smiled with nostalgia.
"Good times," Nicolas agreed.
Garrus hummed idly for a moment before coming back to the here and now, "So what are you trying to do?"
"The alliance wouldn't move a finger to retrieve Shepard's corpse, so I'm here finding out where she is so I can do the right thing and bury her like the hero she was."
Garrus brought a hand up to his lower jaw, rubbing the tip of a mandible, "I can't argue with your endgame. What I find questionable is your means to the end. I do get that no one else in the Terminus is likely to know apart from the Shadow Broker… Last thing I wanted was for you to get tangled with the scum of Omega, broom head."
"Aria's not too bad. She's been fair to me, and she's giving me what I want," Nicolas pursed his lips as he realized this was his last job before finding Shepard, "I just have to do this one thing and then Shepard's location will be mine," he looked up at the turian, his brow furrowed, "Why are you here, anyway?"
"C-sec tired me for the same reason I got on the Normandy. Too much red-tape, too many bad guys getting away because of bureaucracy and politics. I had enough of it, and now I came here to make a difference."
"Well aren't you a fucking angel?" Nicolas shook his head bitterly thinking back on all the messed up things he'd seen since he arrived, "Omega is beyond saving, Garrus, what difference do you wanna make?"
"I want to destroy the Blue Suns' operations here, but I'll need more men… and firepower."
"I hate to break it to you, Garrus, but it can't be done. The Suns are too big, and they'll never stop sending people to keep it up. They won't stop until there are no more recruits in the galaxy or you end up dead. This isn't a place for heroes, Garrus."
"I take it you won't be joining my cause, then?" the turian crossed his arms.
Nicolas shook his head, "I've had enough of all this. I'll try to disappear once Shepard's been buried."
"Aria won't let you."
A spark of anger ignited in Nicolas. He didn't acknowledge it, but the Turian noticed, "Don't act like you know her, Garrus. I won't get in the way of your deluded dreams if you stay out of my way. I'm leaving."
The turian kept his mouth shut as the human disappeared into the darkness. He shook his head, "What has that asari done to you?" before heading back to the facility.
…
Garrus threw pieces of rubble to the side as he looked for survivors or weapons. He heard the grunts of a struggling alien under what was left of the armoury's wall. He pulled it up to find the salarian that spoke to him in the mess hall.
"Docimus! Thank the Maker you're here!" the salarian smiled showing green bloodied teeth, "I thought I was a goner for sure!"
"Well, you aren't, Untar. Any idea who did this?" Garrus asked as he helped the salarian up.
"I shouldn't be saying this, but I'm pretty sure it was Aria. She'd been lending the company money since it started, and I guess it grew too quickly for her taste. We haven't made any enemies this strong as far as I know, and I know a lot," Untar lamented as he looked around, "I'm done with Omicron Company. It was a stupid decision to get involved with that asari bitch."
"What are you gonna do, then?" Garrus followed the salarian as it walked over to a pile of rubble and started digging.
"I think I'll just go freelance… as soon as I find some guns. These bastards surely won't pay back for what I lost in the explosion. What about you?"
"I actually have a proposition for you," Garrus smiled as he opened his omnitool to find a notification of a deposit containing half the credits Nicolas looted from the mercs he'd killed.
…
Nicolas walked over to his bed and let himself fall on the mattress, bouncing off the springs as the bed squeaked from the extra strain the weight of his armour caused. He opened his omnitool and sent Aria the footage of the explosion and the mugshots of the dead mercs before falling asleep.
…
Nicolas opened his eyes and found himself in a sleeping pod on the Normandy. He warily walked out into the mess hall. Half of the starboard hull was missing, and he could see the stars glowing past the kinetic barrier holding the air in. It felt normal to him as he walked on towards the cryo-pods. A figure stood at the end of the corridor, typing away on the monitor that controlled the distress beacon.
A voice echoed in Nicolas' head, "Distress beacon activated. Maybe someone will come for me."
"Shepard?" Nicolas asked as he approached the figure. It turned around to reveal the face of Jane, half covered by her helmet's visor.
"You left me to die here, alone."
Nicolas' eyes welled up as he shook his head, "No. No. I'm looking for you, honey. I'll find you soon."
Suddenly, Shepard clutched at her neck, choking. She fell to her knees and Nicolas ran towards her, but he wasn't able to close the distance. She cried out between choked coughs and gags, "You let me die here, alone."
Nicolas shook his head as he kept running, inching closer and closer to Jane, "They wouldn't tell me where you are. It's not my fault!"
Shepard's helmet vanished and she looked up at Nicolas as he was almost at arms-reach, "You don't care that I'm dead."
Baker sobbed as Shepard turned to ashes and crumbled into nothing when his finger touched her chin.
A voice echoed in his head as his mind bubbled back into consciousness, "You don't care that I'm dead."
So that was a big silent period... I apologize (exams and the subsequent vacation made it difficult to find the time to write)
I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyways. Let me know what you think!
