Chapter Five

Good People

–

"Feels awful strange going into a job with a couple of teenagers," Gina Nash mused, leading her two accomplices through Glendale's heaving mid-evening multitude. "Still… I guess we're getting 'em while they're young, huh?" She glanced back at Shepard but received no reply, so she gave up and concentrated on moving forward. They had to push and weave in order to pass through the tired, miserable crowd, but it was second nature to all three.

Nash was an easy foot taller than either of the others so it was little wonder she felt uneasy. At times she seemed to stoop for no other reason than to feel less like the only grown-up in the group. She had a pasty complexion and naturally deep red hair, cropped short but hanging over her unique face. Her raincoat concealed a thick armoured vest and similar pieces, stripped from an old police hardsuit and strapped to her knees and arms. Between her and Shepard was a cocky young man named Finch, whose voice and demeanour irritated both of them. They were trying not to talk to him.

Shepard stayed behind, silently glancing around and saying little. She knew that she was needed only to unlock doors, as the boy was the muscle and Nash had everything else under control. She didn't like working in a group and not knowing the overall purpose of the job, or 'mission' as she preferred to call it. Until now her occasional work with the Reds had consisted of short, quick thefts in places Jay had directed her to, usually via the communicator in the Kost Mart. It paid surprisingly well, allowed her to keep her cherished home and gave her a sense of purpose. To her surprise she was beginning to like her new life, but now she was being led around by a stranger and having to listen to the endless boasting of Finch, whose name drifted in and out of her memory.

"Hey Nash," he started up again. "You think I'm gonna need to use this thing today or what?" He flashed a sleek-looking red pistol in the air, in clear sight of the passers by. They did not react, but the manoeuvre still earned Nash's attention.

"Put it away, kid. Calm down. Have you been dustin' or something?"

The youth exhaled sharply as he hid the weapon. He was older than Shepard by a few years, but she still preferred to think of him that way. "Hells yes!" he enthused. "But not today. Got to keep a clear head. Don't wanna miss."

Nash flicked her head back again and gave him a charitable glance. "Oh that's right. You're the kid who never misses, aren't you?"

"Never takes me more than one shot to kill a man," he beamed. Shepard immediately doubted him. She had discovered in the two weeks that the Reds' reputation was a little excessive. More than anything they were known as thieves. It was hard to imagine their youngest members regularly participating in gunfights.

"One-Shot Finch!" he exclaimed. "That's what they're calling me now. One-Shot Finch."

"Great," Nash said. "Great. Yeah I don't think you'll need to prove that today, but just in case, have that thing ready. Okay sweetheart, I need you now. Get up here and open the door."

Shepard understood she was being addressed and looked up. They had reached an apartment building. Luckily the lock was very simple; nothing that would prove too tricky and embarrass her in front of their experienced guide. As she approached the weather-browned keypad she discreetly activated her omni-tool, hiding it under the fold of her jacket, and decrypted the lock. She opened the door slowly and silently, revealing only a dark doorway, a wooden staircase and an old elevator.

"Nice work, sweetie," Nash whispered. It made Shepard feel better about the mission, but she still had no idea what they were here for. She stepped inside and the others followed, Finch closing the door behind him.

As if hearing her thoughts, Nash stepped forward and explained everything. This was a routine break-in. The owner of apartment D-15 had made the mistake of borrowing more than he could pay back from a friend of Nash's and a fellow Red. Now she had a mind to perform a little repossession. Nothing more than taking the valuables and going home. It had become a three man operation on the instruction of someone called Mister Cross, who Nash assured them was not to be disobeyed.

Having told the tale, the older thug gave half a smile to her charges and glanced at the stairs. "They look creaky," she muttered for the youngsters' benefit. Shepard silently concurred and waited for her leader to call the elevator. It arrived immediately, which she interpreted as a good sign, and they moved in.

"You're awfully quiet," Nash told Shepard, before adding, "by comparison at least."

"Yeah," she replied, unsure what to say. "Always have been." Perhaps that wasn't strictly true, but it was the best reply she could think of.

Nash tutted. "You're too young to be saying 'always have been' to me. You need to cheer up a little. Then again, being quiet's a good quality for someone in our line of work."

Shepard gave a brief, genuine smile and Nash left it at that. For the remainder of the journey she busied herself asking Finch about himself, yielding more results than she could deal with. When the lift doors opened she held up a hand to silence him. One or two people were on this floor, scuttling between rooms. Holding her head down as if out of respect, Nash made her move away from them, hoping she was heading in the right direction to pass apartment fifteen. As it happened they found it without being seen. Shepard ran the same decryption she had used earlier to get in and slid the thin door open. Her ears had told her that the room was empty, but Finch's gun leapt through the doorway nonetheless with Finch himself attached and following it soon enough.

"That's what I like to see," Nash said, eyeing the apartment's reasonable selection of valuables and assessing how much she could carry. "Empty apartment with an entertainment system and a wallet on the dresser. Hey kid, you check the rest of the rooms. Don't take anything for yourself. Bring it all back in here. And… Shepard? Is that right?"

She nodded.

"Good. You get the bags open and start unplugging, okay?"

Ten happy, efficient minutes later, the trio returned to the elevator car carrying two stylish yet inconspicuous black bags. The apartment had been properly looted but left tidy and otherwise undisturbed. Nash explained that this would let the owner know his account was settled. The deep, syrup chuckle Nash gave made the situation seem funny and Shepard laughed with her.

The walk away from the scene was a fast one but once they were away Nash eased her bag to the street and took Jay's from him. "Another day's work done," she announced, stretching her arms. "Good and clean, no witnesses and we didn't even break the lock. You two are good people. I'll need one of you to help me carry this stuff to a fence." Without giving them time to volunteer she selected Shepard. "And I'll see you around," she told the young man, giving a respectful nod.

"Okay. Send my share over to me, all right?"

"You'll get it. See you soon"

The man gave a nod and a little two-fingered salute before leaving the others in peace. He had been a pain and both of them knew it.

As she picked up her bag again, Nash spoke to herself in one breath. "Ah, to be young again…" She looked well under forty to Shepard, but she understood the taller woman's meaning.

"So," she continued. "Now we have another lady thief in the group." Nash spoke with a curious kind of confidence. Her voice was rich and sad. Her smile was only visible on her left side but it was genuine and showed whenever she used one of these odd little turns of phrase. "How d'you like working with us?" Nash's tone and old-fashioned Southern drawl made a career with the Tenth Street Reds sound very pleasant and non-threatening. Kind of romantic, even.

"I like it!" she said honestly.

"Good. Have you run with a gang before?"

Shepard smiled broadly to hear one of the Reds dare to use the word 'gang' and not a euphemism. It seemed to convey a certain maturity that the other Reds she had met did not possess. "Yes," she answered. "Not for long."

Nash seemed surprised and a tad alarmed. Her eyes moved right to meet the girl's.

Realising that Nash may have misunderstood, Shepard explained. "In Colorado, I mean. Never with the Arizona gangs."

"That's good."

"A couple of years ago."

"That's fine. That's good. No wonder you know what you're doing. You're quiet, fast. You know how to use that omni-tool too. Glad to know ya."

They continued walking and chatting for some time with Nash leading the way down streets familiar to them both. The conversation became easier with time, and grew to be a fun comparison of the many things the two had in common. This evolved into a macabre competition to see whose life had been the most difficult, which Nash won. Still they laughed as Shepard related her nomadic past, her long periods of homelessness and some of the bad decisions she had made. She even mentioned her abandonment by her parents. Nash countered every point by giggling through tales of her own parents' deaths, her spots of jail time and the murder of her colonist fiancée by batarian slavers. It was a cathartic experience for both, and they were glad of it.

"You mean the batarians came down to Earth to take slaves?" Shepard asked, forgetting her shyness. The thought was terrifying.

"No, my man was in space. Trying to build up this colony near Shanxi. He was, you know, an idealist. One day the four-eyed monsters come down and decide to take slaves. My man didn't like the idea so they shot him into pieces."

The horrible story weighed on Shepard's thoughts, but Nash and the conversation remained upbeat. Moving away from this particular memory, they steered the talk to another of Nash's stories. They both fell quiet though when they entered a quiet alley and saw a slumped over body in their path. The smog-laced air was dark, but they could see the still figure's skin was blue.

"Would you look at that…?" Nash mumbled. "First time I've seen an alien in Glendale." She sounded disinterested by the asari but Shepard fell silent, her mind engulfed by a moral dilemma.

They continued walking at the same speed. If the asari was wounded then Shepard knew they would not stop to help. Non-humans were almost universally loathed in the megatropolises. Even more so in the South and particularly by the Reds. But if the asari needed help, Shepard didn't know if she could just leave her there. Her mind raced, scrabbling for alternatives that would allow her retain her conscience without jeopardising her standing with the gang.

Perhaps the asari didn't need help? Perhaps Shepard could discreetly call for an ambulance later on. Perhaps she was dead. She was not moving, so it was possible. As she considered it, she sighed with relief then caught herself. What was she thinking?

Nash did slow when they reached the body, but only to kick its smooth, feminine face hard. Shepard yelped.

"Sweetie, it's already dead. Relax."

That horrible, sickly feeling of guilty relief hit Shepard again, manifesting as an emptiness in her stomach. She needed to get away. She needed to leave. As if to aggravate her, Nash kicked the body again before she set off walking. Shepard followed her after a few moments, but only after she had bravely stared at the aged asari's face. Black dirt from Nash's boot stained the pretty, round nose. One of her luxurious violet eyes was closed and the other stayed open. Her neck was twisted a little further than it should be, presumably by her killer. A dark thought came to Shepard.

"Gina… is thi… did we do this?"

Nash laughed, but only out of habit. The younger woman's discomfort was visible and was affecting her. She stopped walking away and came back, shaking her head.

"Not ours. We aren't big enough to do this kind of thing."

Shepard nodded and breathed.

"Not yet," Nash added quietly, talking to herself this time.

The look of concern on Nash's face grew. She put a hand onto Shepard's thin shoulder and spoke more softly.

"What's up? It's an alien. And we didn't even kill it."

"It… she's an asari," was all the younger girl could say.

"Not anymore it's not. Look, whoever she was, she made the mistake of leaving the big cities. Should've known her kind aren't welcome here. Should've stayed in outer… goddamn space where they belong."

Shepard offered no further complaint so they moved out of the alley and into a brighter street. She was glad of the relief and hoped she could forget about the incident. Shepard had a talent for forgetting about things like this. She had seen worse, and she was no defender of non-human visitors to Earth, preferring to see both sides of this particularly controversial subject. Her efforts to distract herself were working until Nash spoke again. Her smile was gone now, but she displayed no aggression.

"You're awfully sympathetic toward the Thing From Beyond the Stars back there. Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to upset you, Shepard. Thought you'd kick it with me."

The statement surprised Shepard. "No," she stammered. "No, I…" She could see no logic in Nash's thinking. She had never hated anyone that much.

"All right," Nash said sharply. "Forget it."

Now there was no way Shepard could put this matter aside. She would not dare to question Nash's beliefs or her behaviour, especially knowing how much she had lost to the batarian slavers. But Shepard had to make up her own mind on this one if she intended to sleep tonight.

"It's just…" the girl began. "She was an asari. I'm sorry, I'm over-reacting. Asari are different. If it were a turian or a…" She stopped herself from using the word 'batarian'. Shepard had no love for either of those two species, and she was certainly not alone. Hardly a soul on Earth blamed the First Contact War on the Alliance's over-eager activation of a Mass Relay. It was the fault of the turian Hierarchy and everyone knew it. The turians were seen by almost all the population as bloodthirsty pirates and favourites of the Citadel Council. Although she had no personal connection to the War, Shepard agreed completely with the popular opinion in this case. It was an appalling act to declare war on a species making an honest mistake, and the fact that not only the Hierarchy but also the Alliance had been forced to pay reparations afterwards seemed ridiculous. It was inhuman.

"If it were a turian I wouldn't have said anything…" she explained.

Refusing to leave the matter alone now, Nash immediately answered her point with a long-ago rehearsed reply. "I can see your point, Shepard. But you're wrong about that first part. Asari aren't different. They're all aliens. They all live in the same space station, they're all under the same government. They all club together."

They kept walking in silence, Nash frowning and Shepard deep in thought, running the other's words over in her mind. She found herself thinking about her own attitudes towards non-humans for the first time in years, and wondering why she suddenly didn't want to use the word 'aliens'. Sometimes when she was under pressure like this she found herself using the longer, politically correct term.

"There seem to be two kinds of people these days," Nash continued. "People that want to club together with the aliens so we can enjoy all the fancy technology, and people who just want to be left alone. You know what I mean, Shepard?"

Shepard felt much better. "Yeah, I do," she said.

Just like that, the tension between the two was gone. The conversation kept the same subject, but they were both respectful and tried to be objective. When they came close to a large apartment complex Nash dropped her bag and asked Shepard to do the same.

"Thanks for your help," she said, wiping her brow. "My fence is inside. I'll take it from here and get Blue Jay to send you your cut. He knows where to find you, right? Oh and I'll let Mister Cross know that you and One-Shot What's-his-name are up to scratch."

Shepard smiled and nodded but she was reluctant to part with the older thief. This had been the first time since joining the Reds that she had met someone she respected and whose company she enjoyed. The little discussion of inter-species politics was even enjoyable. Or at the least, it had given her a lot to think about.

Asking people questions and listening carefully had always been one of Shepard's skills. She knew how to get information out of people, and her first impression of someone was always accurate. There was something that had been puzzling her about Nash.

"Your fiancée…" she began, despite being quite afraid to offend her by raising the subject.

Showing her quiet strength, Nash smiled again. "Mike," she corrected.

"Why did he leave the planet? It seems like you and him wouldn't want to go into space. I'm sorry I just… just curious."

"Yeah, well we always disagreed about that. He wanted to colonise worlds and make humanity strong. He lost family in the War, so. He didn't want the aliens to start shooting us up again next time they get upset. So he went out into the black for a while and the aliens killed him. Now I stay here. I prefer it when they stay up there."

It made sense, but Shepard still felt it was too harsh. Her opinions on non-humans were sketchy and mixed, but she had a soft spot for the asari. They were pretty. However, she refused to judge the actions or opinions of someone who had been so personally affected by the batarian slaving operation and the First Contact War.

"Do you think it's a good thing that we have an embassy in the Citadel now?" Shepard asked quietly. She wanted to learn all she could about this wonderful woman but she was running out of questions.

"Uh… I think it's good we have some pull with the aliens. I'd sure hate to live in their home, but it's good that we have someone close to them. And, you know…" Nash looked to the ground for a moment. "… It's good that we're colonising. It is. We need to be spread out and we need the same technology as they have. Better, as soon as we can. That's the only good that came out of the War. We learned we have to be ready for those bastards. We learned not to go around exploring new places without bringing enough firepower to back ourselves up. We have to be stronger, stand up for ourselves. I'm sick of talking about this."

Shepard gave her a grin and turned away. As she rounded the corner she thought she heard some approving murmur from Nash but that could have been wishful thinking. It had been a surprisingly long walk, and she would have to make the same journey in reverse before she could bathe and get some sleep. Being away from the Kost Mart in the afternoons made her appreciate it more when she returned.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the War had taught humanity to get tough. Maybe there was no advantage to it at all. Shepard had no idea and didn't see the need to decide. She had enough to worry about, and aliens never went beyond the big cities. Now she knew why.

It was impossible not to feel sorry for that dead asari, but Shepard knew she was strong enough not to spend and time wondering what would happen to her body. She would just take a different route home and think about other things. For one, she had money now. It would be nice to spend it on some new clothes or some real, fresh food. Perhaps tomorrow she might, for the first time in a long while, go shopping.

Wondering when she would next be called upon by the gang, the girl hummed a little as she walked.