AN: Harry meets Jack. It also goes well.
"So who are you then?" The harsh voice cut through Harry's ears as he made his way into Normandy's café area. He looked across to his left, and found his eyebrows being dragged towards his hairline at the sight that was currently standing next to him.
"Had a good look you fucker?" The words were offensive enough, Harry considered, but when taken with the angry tone... She was spoiling for a fight. His magic jumped to his fingertips, waiting to be unleashed as he held her gaze for a moment, then drifted his eyes over her.
In short, she was short, bald and covered in tattoos. The ink stretched over every visible bit of her, and her preferred style of dress left a lot visible. The trousers were dark, and the harness she wore as a top was already projecting a biotic barrier that shimmered dark blue around her form. There were no weapons hitched to the gun-belt, but Harry's sense of magic was lighting the girl up like a Christmas tree. She was possibly the most powerful biotic he'd ever met, and he'd gone toe-to-toe with an asari matriarch gunning for his head. If she had the skills to match, she'd be an insane fighter, thought Harry in the privacy of his head, before sliding his eyes back up to her face. Which was now twisted in anger. Yep, I've still got it. Harry's thoughts echoed the sentiment out, before he pulled himself into combat mode. It was all pack behaviour, he thought. And he was not about to back down.
"Now I have," he said. Her face seemed to twist even more, the anger showing in every line of her body. Harry felt the other people clearing out around them, heard someone pass the order to get the commander. A few moments later, the tattooed woman blew her top. Harry saw the shifting power surge through her aura both with his magical sight and his actual sight, as the visible biotic aura she was producing was now a few inches thick. A warp blew out of her right hand a bare second after it started forming, only to be torn in half by a precisely aimed blade of magical force. A wide blast of force followed the blade, slamming the angry woman back into the bulkhead and knocking her head against the wall. She staggered forward, the anger shaken from her face by the impact that she felt even through her barrier. Harry cocked his head, watching her aura carefully to see what she would try next. She got her wits back together even as he felt Commander Shepard moving fast down the stairs. Harry grimaced as he felt her pulling together a lot of energy, and realised she was going for a charge a split second before it happened.
It was just enough time to shield his body with all his strength before she slammed into him at full speed, forcing him to repeat her earlier flight as he slammed into the wall on the other side of the deck. Unlike him, however, the angry woman seemed unhappy to stick to defence, closing in to deliver a biotic-enhanced punch. Harry responded through instinct as his head was still ringing from the blow, throwing a spear of magical energy toward the flare he could feel approaching. He felt the flare gutter out as the spear pierced it, and followed up with a pair of the heaviest banishers he could manage, launching them one from each hand with a shout of effort. He felt one of them connect with the small girl, sending her sharply backwards, but then felt another pair of biotics activating their implants, one knocking his second banisher to the side and the other stopping the flying girl from pasting onto the wall. Harry managed to stop his eyes spinning long enough to see most of the crew, and all of the team, in the mess hall, guns trained on both him and his opponent.
Shepard was in the middle of the room, shotgun pointed towards Harry and an aura so dark blue it was almost black hovering around a hand pointed at the girl. Harry looked over at the girl and saw her cradling her hand, which was dripping blood onto the floor. He'd probably punched a hole through her palm, he mused distractedly, flicking his gaze around the crowd that had entered the mess hall after hearing the ship ring like a bell from the impacts. Harry raised his hands slowly, spreading his arms out to the sides in a gesture of surrender, and watched as his opponent relaxed her stance in response.
"Jack, get into medical, Harry with me." Shepard's voice was curt, and full of anger, but still controlled enough to not be shouting. She lowered her shotgun and relaxed her biotics before turning on her heel and marching to the lift, clearly expecting her instructions to be followed. Harry met Jack's eyes as they followed their respective orders, and skimmed her mind with leglimency. It was a bad habit to get into, he mused as he got into the lift next to the still slightly glowing commander. But it had given him the answer he had wanted. This "Jack" was still insanely angry with him, but she wouldn't be jumping him in the lunch queue again any time soon. Now he just had to deal with the other biotic he had pissed off.