Chapter Twelve

The Paragon

-

"Don't move," she breathed.

The turian's pinprick eyes focused on her. "Well, I might and I might not," he told her. "Are you going to kill me?"

Shepard answered honestly. "I'm not here to kill you."

"Well then, I might very well move… urgh!"

Before he could finish being clever, the General found the pistol's barrel shoved painfully into his forehead.

"All right. For the time being I am yours, human."

The gun lifted a little. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to gather your valuables very quickly, then you're checking out. We're going to go to the transport station and then we're going to Phoenix."

The turian was apprehensive. "And then where?"

"The embassy."

"What? Which emb…"

"The turian embassy."

Now his expression and tone gave way to pure confusion. "What? What is this? Who are you?"

"My name's Crawford," she said quickly. "There's a street gang out to kill you. They'll be here any minute. You're lucky I got to you first. I'm getting you to safety."

The little flaps on either side of Rymus' mouth extended outwards for a moment while he reacted to her story. "I have… I had security, girl."

"Not good enough."

"And you are, I suppose? And by the way, what precisely drove you to undertake this selfless mission? Am I to believe you're here out of the goodness of your heart?" He looked to the side for a second. "Is that the right expression? Goodness of your heart?"

"I'm a very nice person, General. But if you like, you and your security guard can wait here for the Reds to show up, and fend them off yourselves. You know, your security guard who was just beaten up by a girl."

Shepard climbed away from the soldier and once standing, slid her pistol into her trouser pocket. Rymus smiled at her joke as he stood. "I suppose if you were with this… gang, you would have killed me already. Very well, my little primate, I believe you."

"Outstanding. If you have anything you want to take with you, get it now."

Taking his protector seriously now, the General hurriedly packed a case with papers and OSD's from his desk. "This is all I need," he said to Shepard, whose head was outside a window, surveying the scene outside.

"They're not here yet," she said. "Go now and I'll follow you. If they see us we're both dead."

Rymus slid open the door and glanced down disdainfully at his unconscious security man. His long strides brought him to the nearest elevator soon. Shepard followed with her gun in her right hand, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The turian called the elevator and they waited.

"May I ask why I am suddenly a target for assassination?"

From behind him, Shepard shook her head angrily. "Rumour has it you were one of the instigators of the First Contact War."

"Interesting way of putting it. It never ceases to amuse me how you people insist on referring to that incident as a 'war'. Yes, I was at Relay Three-Fourteen. That conflict could have been prevented, but I stand by my decision." He turned to Shepard to make his next point, but was interrupted as the lift doors opened with their pleasant bell sound. They entered and Shepard pressed a button, while Rymus continued. "How would you react," he asked with no small degree of smugness, "if you encountered a group of monkeys playing with an unexploded warhead?"

Shepard did not answer.

"That's exactly what we saw," the General continued, undeterred. "Your race doesn't understand, even now, the dangers of blindly activating a Mass Relay. When my people joined the Citadel we had to deal with the krogan, and we still have to put up with those brutes. You needed a little… wrist-slap to teach you a lesson. Considering the Rachni Wars and the Krogan Rebellions, I'd say you got off lightly."

Shepard temporarily glanced across to make eye-contact with the turian. "You're oversimplifying," she said calmly, then turned back. He did not reply, so the rest of the elevator ride was silent.

The doors opened shortly, and as the pair stepped into the foyer they heard loud, angry knocking on the locked front doors. The porter was nowhere to be seen, which probably meant he was still unconscious and hidden behind his desk.

"They're here," Shepard said, starting to run. "Get to the back door, quickly." She bolted away from the front, toward a smaller door on the other side of the room. When a projectile smashed through the glass of the front door, Rymus followed at the same speed.

After running through two corridors they came to a marked fire exit, whose location Shepard had already noted as a possible escape route. She saw nobody outside, but the small, square window only allowed her a modest view. Without thinking, she pushed the metal bar hard, and the jarring pain as the door refused to open made her yelp a little.

"Locked," she explained.

"Locked?" The slight panic in the General's voice made Shepard happy. Immediately she remembered her omni-tool. Quickly pressing a few buttons she activated the device and watched the familiar, orange display arrange itself around her forearm, starting a preliminary scan of the lock as it did. Controlling her breathing she tried an old decryption code.

A little red light flashed on her omni-tool's display. No good. Only a few metres behind her, she could hear the front door had now been broken completely. It was unlikely the invaders had seen her and the turian running past, but it would not be hard to find them. She scanned the lock and then typed in another code.

Again she was rewarded only by a flashing red light. This time she didn't bother to re-scan and simply typed in one final code. She had learned it only a week ago on a theft for the Reds. It was her last chance.

With an unceremonious snap the bolt shot back into its casing, and Shepard threw open the door. Quickly she scanned her immediate left and right. Nothing to the right. On her other side was a silhouetted figure.

"Shepard? What in the…"

The voice was familiar, but always unwelcome. Growing closer, Blue Jay tilted his head at her and removed his big, black sunvisor. For once his attire was dark and conservative, but she saw the rings on his fingers shining red against the glow of his pistol.

Rymus chose this moment to follow Shepard through the door. The girl opened her mouth to chastise him, but stopped as she saw the shadow of Jay's hand tightening around the handle of his gun.

Shepard's own weapon was held behind her back, so Jay could not have seen it. His surprise at seeing the young thief appearing through the back door with General Rymus himself slowed his reaction down a little. Shepard was ready though, and had aimed her shot before the blue-haired gangster had even straightened his puzzled face. She fired twice. The first bullet ricocheted off the wall behind him, but the second hit his head. Jay's heavy body spun slightly before it hit the ground face-first.

His mouth open with surprise, the turian fully stepped out into the street. Shepard loosened her arms and let her gun dangle. "They must have heard that," she said. "Follow me. Move!"

Flying into the back streets behind the hotel, the pair breathed heavily and tried their best to stay quiet. Shepard could not hear the three sets of footsteps following them as they were drowned out by her heart-beat and the rhythmic snorting of the turian behind her. Often she would feel his hot breath against her neck, but that just encouraged her to run faster.

Shepard picked her route carefully, occasionally leaping over walls and changing direction when she thought she was far ahead of her pursuers. Only once did the Reds following them get close enough to squeeze off a shot, but it sailed over Rymus' head as he instinctively ducked his head. The scare gave Shepard and the General a burst of speed, which they used to round two corners in quick succession. After ten minutes of solid sprinting, both of them needed to catch their breath. It was Shepard who stopped running. Crouching down she listened carefully, then put a finger to her lips in order to still Rymus' hoarse wheezing.

"I think we lost them," she said. After a deep breath she continued. "But they'll still be coming." She took another long, pleasurable intake of air. "Let's go."

They continued walking, with Shepard's route now taking them to the transport station via the shortest route possible. Occasionally either Shepard or Rymus would hold still for a moment or drop to the ground, thinking they had seen or heard one of the gangsters, but they were not discovered.

"All this because of Relay Three-Fourteen?" the turian hissed. He had been filled with rage ever since he lost his cool at the locked door, and as it had encouraged him to run, Shepard had not discouraged him. "A two-month conflict that happened more than ten years ago? No wonder your species is so universally loathed, if this is your reaction to a simple enforcement of Citadel regulations!"

Although the soldier's small-minded view irritated her, Shepard decided not to rise to him and to simply to concentrate on their escape.

"Savages, they call you back home!" Rymus said, too loud for Shepard's comfort. "Finally, I am inclined to agree!"

"Quiet," Shepard said.

Rymus did whisper, but directly into her ear. He took care to walk one step behind her as he did. "You people look just like the asari, but you don't have any of their fine qualities. You're just hairy, little… backwards… psychopaths. We would have been doing the Galaxy a favour if we'd just finished you off when we had the chance."

Finally, Shepard replied to his goading. "A lot of us lost family in the War," she said simply.

The General actually laughed as he said, "A lot more of you than us, certainly. You fought like children."

Shepard spun around. "General, I don't want to have to concentrate on this pointless discussion. If you want my help, then shut up."

The girl's voice was steady and emotionless, just as her face had been from the moment she had first met him. Suitably impressed, the turian backed down and dropped a few steps behind his guide. After a few minutes had elapsed, Shepard began the conversation anew.

"General, I can't tell you how unpopular your species is among the people of Earth. The War was terrifying for us. Imagine realising for the first time that there's intelligent life in the Galaxy, but only when they start blasting you out of the sky for reasons you can't understand. We're all still recovering, and so is our fleet."

"Is that right?" Rymus absently muttered.

"It isn't easy for us to rise above fear and petty prejudice," She continued, talking to herself now. "But we're trying. That's why we fought so hard for that Citadel Embassy. We want to measure up."

The turian responded with a grunt, but Shepard could not tell if it was one of approval or disinterest.

--

Finally the two reached the station. Moving carefully and slowly, Shepard made her way into the empty entrance hall and glanced at the ticket scanners. She hated paying, but she would be damned if she was going to give the General another reason to look down on humans. Reaching into the salarian wallet, she withdrew some credits and paid the automated vending machine.

Rymus spoke again. "The turian military does regret the Relay Three-Fourteen Incident, human. I admit freely, though… what we regret most of all is the extraordinary sum of credits we were forced to pay in reparations."

At this, Shepard actually laughed. "That's funny," she said quietly. "That's the complaint I always hear from humans too. Reparations money. Here, your ticket."

She handed him his freshly-printed ticket and scanned hers against the little panel built into the turnstile. The machine gave her a satisfied bleep and she moved through, gripping her pistol tightly.

The platform was dark, but Shepard noticed no-one else waiting for the train. This was good. A turian and a girl alone at night would attract unwelcome attention if they were seen. Turning her head for a moment, she beckoned for Rymus to follow her, and he nodded from the shadows.

Time seemed to slow down as Shepard heard the fast, heavy footsteps behind her. Ahead of her, Rymus' face contorted into an expression of surprised fear, an emotion which looked exactly the same on a turian face as a human one. Spinning her body as fast as she could, Shepard knew that whoever was chasing her down was already too close. She felt a fist drive mercilessly into her cheek, knocking her head back in the direction it had come from. Then another blow came to the back of her head and she lost her balance. She could still see Rymus, who now was retreating and ducking down. The turian was using her body as a shield. She did not blame him; it was a smart move, considering that he was almost certainly her assailant's target.

She wanted badly to get to her feet and punch the mysterious aggressor right back, but she thought about it for a second and realised she could not do so quickly enough to avoid another blow. Dropping down, she instead grabbed her pistol, spun herself and aimed at her enemy's head.

Nash had seen the manoeuvre coming and readied her own pistol. Standing above Shepard and close to her, she extended out her arms and held the barrel of her gun little more than a foot from the girl's face. And so they remained, Shepard sat on the cold ground and Nash towering over her, each ready to end the other's life with one bullet.

Sweat was rolling down Nash's forehead, sticking strands of her flame-red hair to her face. She breathed through her open mouth as she stared at Shepard with something approaching hatred.

"For Christ's sake, Shepard!" she yelled. "You were just supposed to get out of the gang while you still could. I wasn't telling you to rescue the alien!"

"It's wrong," Shepard replied, her voice breaking just a little. "You can't kill this man just beca…"

"It's not a man!" Nash shrieked, losing all of her usual composure."Jesus, Shepard! It's a turian! It's personally responsible for First Contact. Don't you dare tell me this isn't right!"

They stayed silent for what seemed like forever. Shepard wondered where Rymus was and assumed that he had found a hiding place behind her, perhaps even run away. Either way was good. The standoff continued. Shepard was afraid to blink.

"I just wanted to look out for you, honey," Nash said through gritted teeth. "You're just a kid and you can do so much better than this. You know what I think you should do?"

Shepard stared back.

"I think you should be a cop. You'd be a seriously good cop. Just make sure it's not in my town, that's all."

They stared, feeling the cool, metal triggers beneath their fingers.

"I don't wanna be a cop."

"Honey, with all due respect, you don't have a damn clue what you want to do."

A wave of guilt hit Shepard, temporarily making her lose her aim. Realising her mistake, she steadied the gun again.

"I always used to want to be a waitress," she told Nash, pathetically.

Nash opened her mouth and shook, as if she were laughing without the smile. "You can do a lot better than that, Shepard."

Shepard narrowed her eyes a little, readying herself. She knew there was a good chance that she would be forced to kill her only friend, and that it could happen at any moment. This understanding flooded her conscious mind with a deluge of conflicting emotions, but she ignored them all. She knew she could pull the trigger if Nash tried to take down the General. That was all she needed to know, so she concentrated on her aim instead.

A welcome sight appeared from behind the barrel of the pistol. Nash was smiling her endearing little half-smile.

"Sweetie, I don't want to kill you," she said.

"That won't work, Gina."

The smile vanished.

"Don't try to intimidate me," Shepard continued, flatly. "I've made my mind up on this one. The alien lives." Shepard could not know what reaction this might trigger in Nash, so she tightened her finger just a touch around the trigger.

Nash was moving her mouth, but not speaking. At first Shepard thought her beleaguered head had simply failed to hear, but then Nash cleared her throat.

"Well… shit, Shepard. I actually believe you. You're actually going to die for this thing, aren't you?"

"I told you, that won't work."

Now Nash's voice lost all of its character and became as deadpan as the girl's. "Who says I'm not serious, kid?"

They heard a rising, thunderous noise. Neither moved their eyes or their guns for a second as the train came to a stop by their side. The doors opened, but thankfully nobody got onto the platform. Shepard moved her head an inch to the side.

"General? Are you there?"

Rymus' deep voice echoed across the walls. "I'm here, Crawford."

Nash gave a confused squint, then let it pass.

"The train's here. It's headed to Phoenix. Do you know how to find the turian embassy, once you get into the city?"

"Yes, human, of course."

Shepard blinked once and took a deep breath, slowly and through her nose so that Nash could not see. She knew that this was her only chance to get Rymus away from Nash and the Reds. If the General was to make a run for hit, he would appear from behind Shepard and run right through their enemy's field of vision. She knew Nash could take him out before he got there, and probably before Shepard could stop her.

The girl knew she was risking the turian's life, but she had a hunch. It was her only chance.

"Get on the train, General," she said, her voice deep, crisp and calm. "Now."

On her command, the turian ran with the speed of his ancestors, using the powerful legs his predatory people had evolved to their full potential. Shepard heard him all-but dive into the train carriage, then listened to the slow, exhausted sigh of the doors closing. Two seconds later, General Rymus was long gone.

Nash's eyes were shimmering a little in the low light. Shepard thought that the beginnings of tears were forming in the sockets.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Shepard."

"No you're not."

Nash's gun shook very slightly, then moved sharply. Shepard's reactions made her dodge to the left, aim again and prepare to fire, but it was unnecessary. Nash had dropped her weapon to the ground.

In the ensuing second, the girl in the red dress had gotten to her feet, kicked Nash's gun onto the train tracks and taken a step back. Her own pistol was still trained on the older woman's head.

"I couldn't let you kill him." It was all she could think of to say. Nash did not reply, and for a long moment did not look at the girl. When she did raise her head, she seemed curiously expressionless.

"I'm going to lift the gun in a minute, and you're going to go," Shepard said. "Don't chase him, Gina. He's gone. Don't have anyone chase him."

Nash looked thoughtful for a while. Finally she said, "If I tell the Reds about this they'll find you. If they find out what happened to Jay."

"I had no choice."

Nash waved a derisory hand. "I believe you, Shepard, but the others won't."

Shepard lowered her gun slightly. The authoritative voice she had been holding down vanished for a moment. "Please don't tell them."

Nash gave her trademark grin one more time and Shepard was glad to see it. "Don't worry, hon, I won't. I won't be popular for a while… seeing as I let this happen, but I don't want you dead. I think we already established that. I'll come up with an excuse."

The women looked at each other for a long while, knowing their strange friendship was coming to an end.

"I take it you'll be getting the hell out of Glendale?"

Shepard nodded. "I'm going North this time."

"Good."

Nash looked to the floor for a moment, then said, "Can I have your market? Seems to me that only you, me and Jay knew about it."

Shepard fought hard not to smile. "It's yours."

"Peachy."

With that, Nash straightened her neck and started to slowly walk away. The girl stopped her.

"I want you to leave the Reds," she said. "You're too goo…"

"Shut the hell up," came the stern reply, and Nash disappeared into the station's entrance hall.

The moment Nash's footsteps became inaudible, Shepard felt her whole body quivering as if she were gripped by extraordinary cold. When her legs buckled she fell to the ground and wrapped her arms around herself. She sat there, shaking and not particularly trying to control it, right until the next train arrived. Its doors opened slowly and she stood up.

The carriage was almost empty. At the far end was an elderly lady with a stern look, and a younger man with a pony-tail was just in front of her. Both gave Shepard a quizzical look, until she slipped the gun back into her pocket and took her seat. Knowing she could never return to the Kost Mart, Shepard absently made a list in her head of the possessions she had lost. There were not many.

Eventually the doors closed again and the tired, old train began to lumber onward toward the capital city. Shepard had a few ideas where she would go next, but it didn't matter. There were other, more important plans that had already started to occupy her thoughts.