Jack
Something was wrong. Garrus couldn't be sure what had happened since they'd first dropped onto the asteroid, but something in the air had changed. He hadn't been completely comfortable to begin with, dropping into combat with an untested team, but now the spirit that bound them was suffering some unspoken ill.
Wickham had obviously been bitterly unhappy about being left behind, but Shepard was firm in her decision to have the chief remain on the Normandy because of her injury, even though it turned out to be less serious than Alenko had surmised. The commander herself seemed distant and brusque, her focus squarely on penetrating the batarian ship. Garrus could only guess their failure to save the engineers on the asteroid was a loss keenly felt by the entire team, but the cold aura permeating the air made him all the more edgy.
"Be ready for anything," Shepard had said as they breached the airlock, weightless in the short docking gantry extruded from the Normandy's hull. Since the batarian ship was not built to any kind of Citadel standard, the gantry was poorly matched to the hull, leaving wide gaps into deep space that made Garrus irrationally nervous.
Garrus was somewhat surprised at Shepard's warning, considering it initially to be paranoia. His limited knowledge of the batarians painted them as always willing to negotiate, with a tradition for convoluted transactions of the kind that gave turians headaches, with many clauses and carefully exploited loopholes. They could be devious to the extreme, but in this situation, Garrus felt sure they would recognize they had nowhere to run.
But then, they weren't known for large-scale terrorist actions, either. They had withdrawn their embassy from the Citadel before Garrus had set foot on the station, so he had never encountered them in his time at C-Sec. He understood that these days, the batarians seldom strayed beyond their own borders, under the auspices of a totalitarian government regime. Those that did were renegades, mercantile pirates more interested in profit than ideological battles.
Their ship, designated Enyo'Kan, was smaller but wider than the Normandy; a scout-class vessel of batarian design favored by pirates for its low profile and swift engines. As they moved through the aft section, Garrus noted the less than meticulous cleaning job had left a few years' worth of grime built up in the corners of the bulkheads. While not exactly filthy, the dimly-lit ship had a decidedly dingy air that spoke of years of service outside any kind of formal or military function.
At a hallway junction, Shepard sent Garrus aft to check a large door that presumably led to the engineering section. Garrus inspected the display panel next to the reinforced portal. It flashed a warning red, busy with writing and symbols only one of which he recognized. He hurried back to the team.
"Looks like the engineering section is locked down for radiation," Garrus reported. "I don't think anyone is coming in or out."
"Joker said the drive core is leaking," Shepard said bluntly before turning away to lead the way forward toward the flight deck.
Garrus' HUD suddenly informed him that his comm system had picked up a transmission within the ship. It wasn't audio, but instead turned out to be a short burst of seemingly nonsense code. The turian didn't have time to contemplate the mysterious message as a flurry of movement erupted from the side of the wide common area. Garrus spun around to see several figures spill into the room, wearing a mishmash of different apparel. Gunfire exploded around them as a batarian voice yelled a command.
Shepard's team reacted instinctively, ducking for cover as the hiss of shields and chatter of weapon impacts filled the air. Garrus pushed himself up against the meager cover of a narrow bulkhead and trained his rifle around, drawing a bead on a figure advancing toward him, dangerously close and firing a steady stream from a pistol. Garrus opened fire and was somewhat startled when the man lurched backwards in a spray of blood, apparently completely unshielded.
Garrus didn't stop to contemplate his good fortune as he took aim across the room at the batarian who seemed to be barking orders and fired at him. The armored batarian dodged sideways as his shields crackled. Garrus caught a bloom of biotic energy out of the corner of his eye, and made the snap decision that the advantage was theirs, leaping forward to rain more gunfire on the batarian.
A distant sense of vicious satisfaction ran through him as the alien shuddered and died against the sloping wall. A figure darted out of cover past him, headed toward the team. Garrus whirled and took aim at the man as he bore down on the commander, waving a heavy length of metal rod.
"Stop!" Shepard yelled. "Cease fire!"
Garrus pulled the muzzle of his rifle up in surprise, watching perplexed as Shepard dodged inside the man's wild swing and rammed the butt of her shotgun into his stomach. It was a human! The man folded with a grunt, and Shepard reversed her grip and drove the gun butt sharply into his temple. He crumpled into a heap and lay still. Garrus noted in passing three more bodies sprawled on the ground.
"Commander..." Alenko said, his voice strained. Blue biotic distortion wreathed his body and that of another human who stood frozen in mid lunge, pistol raised. The man's face was oddly blank as he hung in the air.
Shepard closed with the man in two quick strides, dropping her shotgun and taking up position behind the man.
"Drop it and get clear," she ordered, face intent. "Nayar! Rifle down!"
The marine complied, his face a mask of confusion as he looked between Shepard and Alenko. The lieutenant lowered his outstretched hand, and the corona surrounding him flickered and died. At the same moment, Shepard grabbed the man's outstretched arm and wrenched it around behind him while simultaneously wrapping her left arm around his throat.
Free of the biotic hold, the man twisted and thrashed, reaching over his shoulder to try to pummel Shepard with his free hand, but the commander dropped her chin and let her helmet take the brunt of it as she maintained her iron grip. Garrus watched with a mix of fascination and discomfort as the man's eyes bulged and his jaw worked in a desperate attempt to draw breath. Within several seconds, his struggles weakened until finally his eyes rolled back and his body went slack. Shepard released her hold and let his body down to the ground, rolling him over onto his side.
"They should both be out for a bit," she said, collecting the man's pistol.
Garrus realized she must have deprived him of oxygen long enough to induce unconsciousness, but not kill him. Nayar voiced the turian's next thought before he could.
"Commander, who... who are they?"
Shepard crossed to the man she had clubbed and also rolled him onto his side. She tilted his head forward and pointed to a metal implant bolted directly to the back of the man's skull.
"Slaves," she said quietly.
Garrus could see the rim of scar tissue where the dark metal jack gripped flesh and bone. He felt a twist of horror in his gut. Even as an amateur at reading human reactions, it was obvious Alenko and Nayar shared the sentiment. All the color drained out of their faces. Garrus looked slowly around toward the man he had killed first, and saw the face was also human. A wave of shock coursed over his body.
"I..." the corporal started. He took a step back. "But I killed one! I-"
"You defended yourself," Shepard said curtly, scanning the room.
"But-"
Shepard stepped toward the corporal and put a hand on his shoulder. "You didn't know. Never feel guilty about being alive, Nayar." She held the young marine's gaze for a long moment before he dropped his eyes to fl oor with a short nod.
"It's not your fault," Shepard said, turning away and picking up her shotgun. "I didn't think they'd send slaves after us."
"Why wouldn't they?" Garrus asked faintly.
"Because slaves are expensive," the commander answered with a bitter smirk. "Form up."
Garrus followed obediently, his mind wavering as he fought to focus on the danger that might still be waiting for them. Shepard's words were heartening, and, he reflected, true, but it didn't feel like enough.
They crossed through a long hallway that threaded the upper deck of the ship toward the bridge, sweeping side rooms as they passed. Garrus absently noted disheveled but empty crew quarters, some of which were suspiciously bare inside and bore only an exterior door panel.
Suddenly a side door hissed open behind them. The four of them whirled around, guns ready, to see an asari step through. She was dressed in a skin-tight outfit of a design totally foreign to Garrus, with long, irregular slashes that showed her blue skin underneath. He couldn't tell if the cuts were part of the intentional design or not, and the thought chilled him. In her right hand was a long, hooked knife.
Like the human slaves, the asari's eyes were dead, her face emotionless as she advanced into the room, knife held low. Garrus hissed softly between his teeth as he suddenly remembered the Thorian's asari plant-clone and her silent, relentless attacks. He wondered how they'd missed this asari in the sweep of the ship- she must have been hiding somewhere.
"Stand down!" Nayar yelled, brandishing his assault rifle.
"She's not going to listen to you," Shepard said warningly.
Alenko moved to step forward, but Nayar pushed in front of him. "No! I got this!" Without waiting for leave, he threw down his rifle and moved forward, adopting the stance of a close-quarters fighter.
"Lieutenant, back him up," Shepard ordered after a heartbeat of hesitation. "Vakarian, get this door open." She pointed to the end of the hall.
Garrus tore his gaze away from the spectral asari and hurried to the door panel. Behind him, the sounds of a scuffle broke out. Garrus muttered a calming mantra, trying to focus his mind as he forced the panel off its mountings. The corporal was probably safe- a slash from the knife would do little against Nayar's heavy combat armor, but a hard stab to a joint might penetrate the undersuit.
Garrus eschewed a hack, extruding molten omni-gel into the mechanism, which sparked and smoked as it died and disengaged the lock. The door ground open into a narrow, sloping cockpit. Blue holo-panels glowed along the walls and ceiling, surrounding the single, broad pilot seat. To one side of the chair stood a batarian clad in a sleek black flight suit with red trim, who raised his hands palms outward as Shepard swarmed into the room, shotgun in the lead. A second batarian scrambled out of the pilot's chair.
"We surrender!" the batarian said in a tone of forced congeniality. "I am captain Ragan Kor'noth and this is my second, Keoh. Under your Alliance convention, I request-"
"Call off your crew!" Shepard snapped.
"I'm afraid I have no more crew to order, human," Ragan said mildly as Keoh nervously eyed the open bore of Shepard's shotgun.
"Call them off!" Shepard repeated, her voice rising angrily.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, human," the batarian captain said with an obsequious smile, tilting his head slightly to the right. "How can I be held responsible for acts of loyalty from my servants? Now, I-"
The commander's shotgun boomed loudly in the confined space of the cabin. The point-blank shot caused Ragan's entire face to implode, spraying the control consoles with a geyser of blood, brains and bone. Keoh shrieked and danced away from his captain's shuddering corpse as the cold blue holo displays shivered and flickered.
Garrus suppressed a flinch as the body bounced off the wide pilot seat and flopped to the floor, spurting dark blood. A second later, a mechanical voice announced something in the batarian language over the ship's comms.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Captain," Shepard said coldly, lowering her gun and turning to Keoh. "Maybe you'll be smarter than your predecessor and not assume I don't know when I'm being insulted. Now, I suggest you consider your first order very carefully."
The new captain's four eyes blinked rapidly, flicking back and forth between Shepard's implacable stare and the spectacle of gore in front of him. Finally, Keoh opened his mouth and stammered out a command. In response, the ship's VI made another announcement, followed by a short, eerie burst of sound that made Garrus' mandibles twitch.
Seconds passed. Without taking her eyes off the batarian, Shepard raised her voice. "Corporal, report!"
"I think they've stopped, Commander," came the reply from the hall. "She... stopped resisting."
"Good," Shepard said. "Your next act, Captain, will be to decrypt your full database and assist my team in uploading everything to my ship."
"I-" Keoh started.
"You are not negotiating with the Spectre, batarian," Garrus said icily, cutting him off. "Just do it."
The word had the desired effect- whatever meager resolve Keoh might have had left seemed to wilt on the spot. Even if they didn't recognize Citadel authority, pirates had still learned to fear the intervention of its most powerful agents.
"Lieutenant, the captain has some files for us. Make sure he doesn't... miss anything," Shepard said balefully. She turned and swept her gaze over Ragan's sprawled body, then bent and unclipped a small device from the dead batarian's belt.
Keoh looked around as Alenko stepped into the room, his face a hard mask. Garrus shadowed Shepard as she stood and left the command cabin, back out into the hallway. There, Nayar crouched over the recumbent form of the asari who lay curled up on the floor.
Garrus heard Shepard's quiet outlet of breath as she raised the small device taken from Ragan's belt and gingerly disconnected the tiny power cell, tossing it negligently over her shoulder. She then handed it to Garrus.
"Please destroy this completely," she said.
"What is it?" Garrus asked curiously, turning it over in his hands. A small oblong square of blue-black metal framed several unmarked amber buttons.
"Kill switch," Shepard replied quietly.
Garrus opened his omni-tool and used the interface to portion out a small blob of the omni-gel from his supply, dropping it onto the device. He could have reclaimed the device into his store of gel, but some impulse made him let the whole thing fall to the floor where it sizzled into a misshapen mass.
"I keep trying to tell her she's safe, Commander," Nayar said. "But she's just..."
"There's not much we can do right now, Corporal," Shepard answered. "There's an Alliance ship inbound from Terra Nova, it'll be here in under thirty minutes."
"But..." Nayar looked from the slave back to her. "Wait, we're... we're just leaving them here?"
"We don't have a choice," Shepard said in a thick voice. "We're still facing a possible major threat, and Doctor Chakwas is not equipped to deal with the jacks in that time frame."
"These?" Nayar asked, pointing to the device protruding from the folds of the unfortunate asari's head. "I don't understand."
Shepard sighed. "You know the nonsense signal your comm-unit picked up when we were back in the crew section? It's a reciprocating callback that goes out to all the jacks on a prescribed cycle. If the jack doesn't get the new signal at the beginning of each cycle, it... kills the slave. Painfully."
Garrus glanced down at the little puddle of slag at his feet, sure now what Shepard had meant when she called it a kill switch.
"To... keep them from escaping?" Nayar asked.
"Not many try," Shepard said heavily. "Mostly it prevents... theft."
Horror flickered across Nayar's face as he seemed to struggle to speak. "We... we let this happen?!" he burst out, spreading his hands.
Shepard's eyes flashed. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when Alenko stepped through the door.
"No one lets this happen, Corporal!" the lieutenant snapped with uncharacteristic shortness. "But those statistics we all like to ignore don't fall out of the sky!"
For a second it seemed like he might say more, but he shut his mouth with a snap. Garrus' shoulders tightened reflexively at the sudden tension, as if the accumulated outrage hovering in the air would bleed into the hull and distort the metal itself.
"I know this isn't the heroic ending we're supposed to get, Nayar," Shepard said evenly, the momentary sadness vanished behind a flinty wall. "But now these people have a chance, and none of these slavers will do this to anyone else. Now we have to find out how deep this rabbit hole goes. We had a saying in the N's... No batarian ever throws just one grenade. Is the transfer done, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Commander," he answered stiffly.
Garrus didn't have the faintest idea what a rabbit was or what their holes had to do with slavers, but he was more than ready to get off the batarian ship.
"Keoh!" Shepard barked. "Get out here!"
The batarian emerged hesitantly from the cockpit, eyeing the blood-spattered commander as if she were a live grenade.
"March," she ordered, pointing down the hall.
Keoh complied meekly. Garrus fell into step behind Shepard as she walked the batarian down to the crew area, selecting one of the bare cells and herding him into it.
"Tell Akilah I say hi," she said with a smirk before hitting the door panel. As soon as the door closed, she pulled out her pistol and fired a few rounds into the panel, which cracked and sparked.
"Who's, uh, Akilah?" Nayar asked tentatively.
"Captain Akilah Nasser leads the Pirate Activities Division of Alliance Central Intelligence," Shepard replied as she holstered her weapons and started back down the corridor. "I'm sure she's going to want to have a long conversation with him."
Garrus didn't want to think about it. The image of the dead slaves still crawled around his head, adding to the ache in his body from long hours of combat and tension. But back on the Normandy were files that might contain answers.
No rest tonight...