Chapter Six
Shepard, bent over in an alleyway on a neighboring spaceport, heaved violently for the second time. It hadn't been with any great enthusiasm that she'd carved the message onto Krelyar's face. Once she'd removed the helmet, guilt had washed over her and she'd doubled over to vomit.
Even in the Blitz, she hadn't systematically decimated an entire platoon of men; butchering someone was also completely new. She wasn't even sure what had driven her to do something so rash. The smaller knife had appeared in her hand almost of its own volition. It had been someone else's hand that had done that to him, she was sure of it. At least, that's what she was telling herself. A poor coping mechanism, but it was all she had at the moment.
The wretching subsided long enough for Shepard to flop into a sitting position and lean against the dingy wall. Sweat poured down her forehead, blinding her briefly. She rubbed her eyes free of the stinging fluid and took a deep, shuddering breath. She'd have to check in with Zaeed before long even though all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep for a week. Though, somehow she knew her dreams would be red with the blood she'd spilled. Her armor was coated crimson, blotting out the white of the Blue Suns emblem almost completely. Shepard absently swept a hand across the breastplate, her stomach rolling in protest at the sight of the bright red liquid caking her glove. She'd have to wash it off before going to the next step. Thankfully, the next mission would be a few days' coming. Zaeed still had to track Krelyar's movements to reach his old guard friends. It would give Shepard time to collect her thoughts and willpower to keep going with the plan.
Using the wall for support, Shepard stumbled out of the alleyway, thankful for the lack of interest from the passersby as she headed towards the nearest lodge. From there she'd be able to shower and contact Zaeed, let him know what had happened. She wondered if he'd approve of her delivery? She suspected it was subtle in comparison to some of the things he'd done. He probably would've stripped Kreylar of his chest armor and carved an even bigger message there. The thought made her stomach revolt again, forcing her to clap her hand over her mouth before whatever was left had the chance to escape.
Rest. That's what she needed. A good long sleep. Bolstered by the idea, Shepard continued down the sidewalk with a little more speed.
********
Zaeed paced the floor of the port he and his Suns had stopped on to refuel and buy supplies for the upcoming battle. He kept listening for the telltale crackle of static that sounded before Shepard contacted him on their private channel. It had already been a full day; surely she'd managed to deliver the message and get away before reinforcements had arrived.
He clutched his pistol in its holster, the action unconscious, as he passed back and forth over the steel flooring. Sending Shepard out to kill all of those men had sat ill with him ever since she'd left Omega. It wasn't that he believed she wouldn't be able to do it. Far from it. He just knew how mentally and emotionally scarring such an act could be, especially for a novice. Battling obvious baddies was one thing: willingly going through a ship full of unsuspecting mercs with the express purpose of killing them all was another.
Despite her resolve to end the lives of the Cerberus crew, Zaeed knew Shepard wrestled with the guilt everyday. Her constant parroting of "for the greater good" would only sustain her for so long. Eventually, something would snap even more than it already had. When that happened, if it happened, no one, not even him, would be able to pull her back. The idea of her being lost to such a thing angered him greatly, teasing him with his own impotence at being able to prevent it.
Zaeed was far from a savior. He hadn't killed and maimed his way to the top of the bounty hunter food chain by being nice to his enemies. His reputation had been well-earned over years of endless jobs. After awhile, though, even he had stopped. Cerberus had caught him just before he'd completely dropped off the grid and had offered him the opportunity to exact his revenge on Vido. How could he have refused? The credits were certainly nice, too.
He hadn't expected to get close to anyone on the Normandy. In truth, he hadn't, with the exception of Shepard herself. He hadn't even pursued her company, preferring to remain alone down in starboard cargo reminiscing and waiting for the day they'd arrived on Zorya. Still, it didn't stop the young commander from insisting on his presence during every mission since his recruitment. She'd recognized his skills and was prepared to exploit them to their fullest extent. Well, he'd decided to let her, maybe she'd learn something. Instead, it had been him who'd learned something. Even with all of the bad deeds he'd done under his belt, the fact someone could still stir that hidden part of him to the surface had made it difficult to ignore her attempts.
That time on the so-called defunct Collector ship had been the real starting point of things happening between them. She'd stupidly run into the thick of things, nearly getting her head blown to pieces by Harbinger's drones in the process, before he'd snatched her and had thrown her into cover with him. They'd had a good row about that one. He remembered her screaming at him down in the cargo hold after the mission, insisting he recognize her command and not interfere with her battlefield tactics. Tactics?! he'd countered hotly. What tactics? The accusation had caused an even greater explosion of wounded pride from the commander, resulting in her threatening to space him and then leaving the hold, still very much in a tizzy.
It hadn't been until days later that she'd calmed down enough to come and request his presence on another mission. That one had brought them to Omega to track down Samara's crazy bitch of a daughter. He remembered arguing with the justicar outside of the VIP room, claiming the asari was sending Shepard in blindly. While Samara had retaliated with complete composure, insisting Shepard knew what was expected of her, Zaeed had refused to let it drop. Instead, he'd strong-armed the turian at the door into letting him in. Despite the lack of a proper uniform, simply exposing his Blue Suns tattoo had earned him admittance. He'd spent the remainder of the mission at the bar, good eye trained on Shepard as she moved about the lounge drawing attention to herself.
Even though watching Shepard walk off with Morinth hadn't spurned any kind of jealousy in his chest, he'd still had to fight the urge to follow. He'd reasoned later that it had been his contract that had caused such a reaction and not because he'd begun to feel anything towards the young commander. He knew too well the dangers of getting close to a job; becoming involved with them was much, much worse.
That still hadn't stopped him from going to her cabin before they chanced the Omega-4 Relay.
The gentle static he'd been anticipating crackled in his ear, breaking into his memories, and his hand flew up to the tiny earpiece. "Shepard?" he asked, perhaps a little too anxiously.
"You sound worried, Massani," Shepard replied, a smug smile in her voice. "I'm in one piece, don't worry. Can't say the same for Krelyar, though."
Zaeed gave a grunt of laughter. "Why, what'd you do?"
"You'll see, I'm sure. I don't think you'll be disappointed," here her tone changed from smug to weary. Zaeed paused in his pacing, listening for her next words intently. When she didn't speak again, he broke the silence.
"I'll let you know when I've taken care of him," he told her. "You sit tight till then, all right?"
"No arguments here, Massani," Shepard's voice continued to sound dispirited. No doubt she was exhausted. Eliminating that many people in such a short time did nothing for a person's energy levels. "Where are you?"
"Rosetta Nebula," Zaeed replied, backing up slightly to perch on the edge of a storage crate. "A small independent faction was sighted here; looking to get them to join us."
"No sign of your assassin, I take it?"
"No one to kill," Zaeed's voice was bitter. "I admit I'm hoping it was a fluke and I won't have to deal with him again. Shame I'm usually wrong when it comes to assassins."
"This guy must be pretty good to have avoided getting shot by so many mercs," Shepard mused thoughtfully. "And you, for that matter."
"Bastard shot me in the thigh, remember? You ever try aiming after being shot? Not the easiest thing."
"Granted." Shepard yawned slightly, her voice distancing itself from the commlink as she did so. "I hope you get those Suns there on your side. Krelyar had a helluva squad with him; can only imagine what he'll have waiting for you."
"I have my own squad with me, Shepard," Zaeed reminded her. "You only have yourself."
"Got that right..."
Zaeed fell silent for a moment, listening for the meaning between the lines in Shepard's words. "I'll be able to get you after Krelyar is dead. I'd like it if we could regroup after each death if possible."
"Again, no arguments here, Massani," Shepard said. He heard her sigh deeply, then she spoke again. "I really need some sleep. You could've told me mass murder was exhausting work, you know." Her tone held only the barest hint of humor, not that Zaeed could blame her for a lack of cheerfulness. He wanted to tell her she'd get used to it, but as he'd told her on Omega, he didn't want her turning into something she wasn't. Still, how would she be after five more missions like this one?
"Take it easy, Shepard. My scout just returned; seems like we might have the help of the Suns here after all," Zaeed told her as the turian he'd sent to handle negotiations appeared in the doorway. He gestured towards him, bading him to wait until he was finished, and turned away to speak softly into the commlink. "Remember what I told you on Omega. Don't get swallowed up by this."
"You worry too much, Massani," Shepard deflected, though her voice was softer and less weary. "Don't get killed."
"You, too, Shepard."
The link severed, leaving empty silence in its wake. Zaeed looked back at the turian and nodded him over. Back to business.
**********
Krelyar hadn't wasted any time; barely two days after the incident, Zaeed's sources revealed the location of Krelyar and of Malachi, another of the original handful of recruits from the old days.
Malachi had been tough as nails back then. He'd killed his own fair share of people and then some. He wouldn't go down easily even if that damned assassin decided to show up. A towering mountain of muscle and thick scars, Malachi had been known to take multiple gunshots and knife wounds before allowing himself to rest and recover. That assassin had better be prepared to handle someone like Malachi or else he'd be the one with the bullet through his brain.
Knowing his next move would take him to one of the best the Suns could offer, Zaeed hurried his men to Malachi's base on Joab. Zaeed recalled a mission that had taken him and Shepard planetside to handle a different faction of Blue Suns; apparently Malachi hadn't been keen on letting that particular base go. The equipment and relics found there had been too valuable to sacrifice to raiders. Malachi always did have an eye for unique items.
Once their shuttle touched down on Joab, Zaeed ordered his men to remain behind while he pushed ahead to scout for the base. Once inside, he'd be able to get to Malachi and begin phase two of the reclamation. Malachi had respected Zaeed immensely, as had most of the old guard, and would undoubtedly relinquish his squad to the greater good. Battling Reapers would definitely appeal to the other man, especially if rare tech was to be extracted from their corpses.
Zaeed wasn't concerned with Krelyar's presence on Joab. As far as Zaeed could remember, Malachi ahd been unaware of the betrayal wrought by Vido. For all Malachi knew, Vido had told them Zaeed had died during a job. As unbelievable as that would've been, they still would've deferred to Vido's words, especially with his being the surviving founder. Whatever the reasons give, Zaeed was sure Malachi would be both surprised and pleased to see him.
The area surrounding the base was still littered with fallen rocks and small natural walls. As he passed one of the walls, Zaeed passed a hand over it carelessly, remembering vividly the crouched figure of Shepard pressed against it. It seemed after the Collector ship, she'd finally realized taking cover and staying alive was well worth the effort. He hoped it would stick with her, especially now.
A turian sentry was posted at the base entrance, pacing back and forth lazily, his rifle cradled almost casually in his arms. He came to attention when Zaeed approached, swinging the gun up towards him and snapping at him to stay where he was.
"I'm looking for General Malachi, boy," Zaeed informed the young turian coolly. The turian didn't seem convinced, his rifle still in front of him as he inched down the bridge towards Zaeed.
"How do you know the general?" he demanded, jerking the rifle at the other man insistantly. "What the hell do you want?"
"That's between me and Malachi," Zaeed replied. "Just get him, boy, and you won't have to die here." He hovered his hand above his pistol, fingers flexing as if to grab it. Even with the turian's weapon already drawn, Zaeed's reflexes would undoubtedly be swifter. The young merc would fall before he could even eject a single heat sink. This seemed to register with the turian, who lowered his rifle and spoke into his earpiece.
"Yeah, there's someone here claiming to know the general. No, I don't know who is; never seen him before in my life!" the turian looked back at Zaeed. "The general wants to know your name."
"Massani. Zaeed Massani," Zaeed replied, a snake's smile curling his scarred lips. The turian seemed to pale at that; clearly he'd heard of Zaeed's bounty hunter exploits. He hastily relayed this to whoever was on the other end of his commlink.
"Stay out here. The general is coming out," he told Zaeed with more respect than before. Zaeed shrugged and leaned casually against the guardrail to wait.
The thumping footsteps of Malachi pounded out of the base, the larger man's arms spread open wide as he thundered towards Zaeed. Zaeed grinned broadly at his old friend, accepting the rough embrace Malachi enveloped him in, both men slapping each other's backs genially. They parted, bearing twin grins, with Malachi looking Zaeed up and down in absolute surprise.
"You crazy son of a bitch," Malachi began, gesturing with both hands at his old friend, "Vido said you died on a job! I shoulda known he was talking out of his ass. When I'd heard about a bounty hunter with your name, I thought it was just another Massani, but no! It really was you, wasn't it, you nutty bastard?" Malachi whistled low, looking into Zaeed's face now. "You look like shit, brother! What happened to your face?"
"That's a long story, Malachi," Zaeed replied, thumping his taller friend on the shoulder. "Why don't we go in and I'll tell you everything."
The two men entered the base, the turian sentry saluting them both as they passed. Zaeed didn't bother suppressing the wide grin that split his face. Seeing Malachi alive meant that damned assassin hadn't found him. If they were lucky, he never would.
**********
Many hours, and whiskey bottles, later, the two men were well in their cups, falling over each other as they recalled old jobs and caught up. Malachi didn't seem surprised to hear of Vido's death, let alone at Zaeed's hands; if anything, he seemed to have expected it. Zaeed hadn't gotten the chance to tell him the real reason behind Vido's murder as they'd become too absorbed in reminiscing before he could explain. Then the whiskey kept flowing and he'd steadily forgotten to bring it up, happy to enjoy the company of one of the few trusted people he could call a friend.
"Sure is good to see you alive, Massani," Malachi managed through a rather deep belch. "Never thought I'd see you again, though. What've you been doing?"
"Trying to save the galaxy," Zaeed slurred, lifting his glass to his lips awkwardly and downing it. Malachi choked on his own drink.
"I can't believe that, Massani! Certainly not from you!" he laughed, pouring another sloppy helping into Zaeed's empty glass. Zaeed waved a limp hand dismissively.
"I was contracted to help this bitch save the human race or somesuch," he replied. "Even in the boonies back here, even you know of Commander Shepard."
"That first human Spectre? Didn't she die?"
"Did, yeah," Zaeed nodded, his head a bit wobbly on his neck. "Got better." He snickered drunkenly.
"Like you did?" Malachi grinned.
"Damn right."
Malachi shook his head and leaned back in his chair to exhale deeply. "So. Who tried to blow your face off?"
"Vido," Zaeed replied, some menace entering his voice despite his inebriated state. "Son of a bitch thought he could take the Suns from me...paid some of my men to hold me down while he fired a shot in my face. Left me for dead on some shithole planet. Too bad for him I didn't mind sewing my face together with barbed wire." He jerked his thumb at his scars, grinning maliciously.
"I knew that guy was crooked, but I never thought he'd try something so fucking stupid," Malachi shook his head again. "Why come out now? Why did you disappear for twenty years if you knew Vido tried to kill you?"
"I had to let him think I was dead, Malachi," Zaeed insisted, fighting to keep his eye focused on his friend's face. "Slippery bastard kept escaping me, too." He chuckled darkly. "My last job let me get to him without his knowledge. I owe Shepard a lot for that."
"You going soft on me, Zaeed?" Malachi teased with a wicked smile.
"I'll pass out first, you ugly bastard," Zaeed insisted with another short laugh.
"Sure looks like you're ready to."
Zaeed didn't respond, his mind finally beginning to succumb to the urge to black out. He grunted slightly and ran a hand down his face. He rose unsteadily from the table and started for the bunkers. "Gon' sleep this off," he said over his shoulder. "Talk more later."
Malachi watched Zaeed make it to the stairs before his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. Malachi chuckled and signaled two of his men to carry the unconscious bounty hunter into the bunker. He saluted Zaeed loosely as he was carried off.
"Sleep well, old friend."