A/N: Thank you soooo much for the reviews, favs, and followss- they're seriously like my writing fuel. Oh, I thought it'd be fun to include you guys since I've had to rewrite all the chapters because I lost the USB the rest of the story was in. I remember the plot, and dramatic points, but I still have to rewrite them. So, if you guys come up with a human saying or reference or habit or whatever you want implemented with Garrus chapters, let ,me know in a review or private message. It'll be FUN! As always, no beta and I love you guys who are reviewing and fav'ing this!

Chapter Nine: Bad Week

The queue to get in the restaurant and be seated wasn't particularly long, but the human and salarian employed at the front seemed to be diligently working together to stall other costumers from coming through. Weren't salarians supposed to be fast at everything? With a huff of air, Arin sent a curl from her face, only to have it land back beside her nose again. She looked to Deela for a reaction, who rolled her eyes pointedly at the hosts.

"No-no-no, human." The salarian said, taking the holo-menus from the human's hand before she could give them to the hungry people in front of Arin and Deela. "Wait for the all-clear icon to pop up." He then signaled to an icon that presumably came on the human host's omni-tool application.

The asari beside her sighed, impatient but for other reasons, and nudged the nurse to go on. "Well this wait isn't getting shorter, tell me what happened next."

"Wait until we're seated," Arin said and clenched her jaw. Although the people in front of them were being seated, and there was only a couple and young child behind them, Arin felt fretful, and as if Banes had eyes and ears everywhere. She knew it could not be true, but the discomfort remained seeded in the center of her chest.


Too much time had passed by the time the two friends were escorted to their chairs. They sat at one of the outside spots, where beautiful and smooth asari-designed tables were spread out for the diners. The view was unexpectedly good, a pleasant surprise due to the proximity to C-Sec Headquarters and the many bars that littered the area. It overlooked high rise towers and traffic, which, at least from afar, looked pretty and much like the cities back on Earth.

When at last the waitress came with their dishes, Arin's stomach churned loudly at the prospect. Both girls' main dish consisted of the asari version of fried calamari with grilled vegetables, and human chocolate cheesecake for dessert. It'd been a long time since she had a meal this good.

"So?" Deela urged.

"Mmm." She waited for a moment to continue savoring the flavors before swallowing. "So then, after I ask him to leave, I'm thinking, this junkie's getting way out of hand. I mean, the guy looked like he wanted to deck me. I could've handled it myself, I mean, I'm fairly sure I could've, but the boss says we're to call C-Sec if things get too rowdy. And I get it, she could get sued or whatever."

"Right."

"But even if I did want to call 'em, everything was happening way too fast. The guy came at me, yelling God-knows what. And just as he was about to reach me, this other guy pulls him back and tells him to back off."

"Goddess. You must have been relieved!"

"I was. At first." Arin took another mouthful, half to hold her friend in suspense, and half to quell her hunger. "This is divine! All I need now is some white wine."

"Arin!" Chewing, Arin gave her friend a one-sided grin, and as punishment, Deela picked the nurse's food, taking a sizable chunk into her mouth. "Mm. It really is delightful." The asari's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she ate the stolen bit.

Arin would have complained, but she had a sort of gentle tickling on her neck and back, like somebody besides Deela had her attention. The thought that Banes might have followed her out terrified her, sending a sharp chill down her spine. It was as if time around her slowed down, but everything and everyone was still moving at full speed. She glanced around for any sign of Banes, to find no sign of him whatsoever. Whoever it was, she hoped it wasn't Banes.

"Arin?" the asari called with a mouthful, snapping her out of her trance.

"R-Right." A quiet sigh left her. "Well, this guy… I don't know where he came from. Almost like he came out of nowhere, with what I'm pretty sure was his bodyguard. His krogan bodyguard, mind you."

"What were they doing at the clinic?"

"The guy, the human I mean, threatens the junkie, and the junkie gets scared and leaves. I was grateful. But as soon as the junkie left, there was this whole mood shift. It was horrible." Suddenly the vegetables didn't taste very good, like the seasoning went missing from one second to the next. "The krogan left to guard the door and then the human started talking to me, saying weird things. He asked me to give the doctor a message that he stopped by, blah-blah-blah. Then he asked how long I've been working at the clinic, and said he should buy me one of those old-time nurse uniforms from Earth." She explained quickly, trying to get rid of the queasy feeling her whole body had adopted since she began retelling the incident.

Arin was no expert on Earth culture or history, but she had to make do with what she knew. "They're like these little white dresses that barely cover anything." Another mouthful to keep what was left of her wits. She gripped her fork tighter, like in doing so she could transfer the pressure she felt on her lungs, onto the object. "And then he offers me a job, but it didn't sound like the kind of job any girl should take. And keep in mind, this whole time, he just kept getting closer and closer until I could smell his disgusting, musky breath." Arin shuddered and Deela grimaced in sympathy.

"That's horrible."

"It didn't end there. He reached for my face and I smacked his hand away, but he grabbed my arm and actually pulled me to him." Deela was speechless, and Arin took the opportunity to take a few more bites before the food got cold. Well, that, and she needed to calm her panicked heart. "There was something happening in the front, but… Honestly, I froze up, like an idiot. I didn't know what was up or down at this point. Before I could figure things out, the guy squeezes me to him, and grabs a handful of my ass."

"Oh no."

The nurse smiled downward. She was thoroughly disappointed in herself. Her brother would have been pissed she didn't tried to defend herself like he'd taught her. "Anyway. This C-Sec guy shows up, and shooed him and the krogan away from me and the clinic. I think he chased after them when I was finally safe. I don't know. It's still sort of hazy."

"I thought you couldn't call C-Sec."

"I didn't," replied Arin, shaking her head. "The cop likes to visit the clinic during his rounds, I guess."

"How nice of him," Deela offered. "Wait, is this that guy, the turian from that night at Chora's Den?"

For a small insignificant instant, Arin's eyes flickered rapidly to Deela's. Anyone else might have missed it, but Deela knew her all too well; she knew just what to look for, and Arin just as good as confirmed it. "That's," Arin cleared her throat and shook her head, struggling with the words, "that's irrelevant. Point is he was there."

She worried for a second that the asari would press the matter. There wasn't much Arin could say in regards to it. Not much to it. It was Garrus. He liked making rounds, said so himself. Luckily, tonight Deela was more tactful than that. "But, Goddess, that other guy. What a pervert! Honestly, even krogan know when to stop themselves. But your human males are almost as bad as the batarians."

Arin chuckled cynically, irritation growing from the feeling of being watched. "I'll just call it safe and say that all men are pigs."

"Agreed."

"I don't know how you put up with them at work," she said to her friend.

"They're not really supposed to touch us. Some girls let them because they think they get better tips. But the bouncers kick the pijaks out. I keep telling you, you'd make a killing on tips. No touching and it would spite your parents."

She let a breathy laugh out, finally releasing some of the stress she'd been holding. "Pretty sure I annoy them enough as it is."

"Fine." Setting her two-pronged fork down, Deela stood. "Alright, I've had to pee since I picked you up. Be right back." Arin's eyes followed her friend into the restaurant until she lost her. She stirred in her seat, uncomfortable, soft as the padding on the chairs was.

"Forgive the intrusion," a turian, with metallic copper-brown plates and striking green eyes appeared beside her filling up the space Deela had left. His white markings the icing on the cake. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

"Oh." Arin looked away a little, raising a brow and pressing her lips together, already very much displeased by the turian's meddling. It wasn't like they were being loud. Although to be fair, any male was sure to have gotten under her skin tonight. Even a male like the one in front of her, whose voice sent vibrations to her chest despite their distance, and woke something primal in her. Something that left her nervous for more than one reason. She looked back to the turian to see him ordering something from the waitress, who left as quickly as she'd appeared, too low for Arin to hear.

His eyes quickly fell back to her, and his mandibles widened into the turian equivalent of a smile. "I hope you'll keep in mind not all of us are bad."

She gave him an easy smile that said nothing about her irritation. "This coming from a turian?"

"Is there something wrong with that?" he asked softly, leaning in just a bit.

Arin wondered whether the question had the double meaning it seemed to, but quickly dismissed it. "No, I suppose not," she granted. As charming as Arin quickly found the turian, she was in a foul mood and not at all up for whatever point he was trying to make. She'd have to say something polite, yet deterring. "But I'm not the only one that freely generalizes once in a while. For instance, don't most turians view all humans in a poor light?" As she spoke, she moved pieces of her food around on the plate, much like her mother had scolded her for when she was a child, but stopped when the turian's quick reply came.

"Not all turians resent humanity; some of us see the potential of your species."

"Do you, now?" she asked, raising her chin like a brat, or like she'd made some sort of ridiculous and death-defying bet. With his head tilted slightly to the side, The turian nodded once without saying a word. "Tell me the, what potential do you see in us?"

"Your technological and medical discoveries and advancements alone prove you are an intelligent and a worthy addition to the galactic community. Militarily, you make a valuable ally and admirable foe. Your many cultures and religions are interesting, even if chaotic. And your females make great dancers."

She nodded here and there, but her mouth spread into a full beam at his last and rather cheeky remark. "This last observation coming from personal experience, I assume."

He didn't so much as flinch. "I've gathered as much from social events and various films."

"And various films," she repeated with a brow raised, her teasing nature finally free from the day's incident.

It took him a moment to catch on to her words. "Hah. It has been some years since I last felt cornered- though not my first by a human. But my turian pride won't allow me to concede so easily. Why don't—"

"Well, hello," Deela said, waiting for the turian to shift so she could take her seat.

"Good evening," he replied sternly, straightening his back. "I apologize again for the intrusion; I will take my leave now."

"Oh, don't go on my account," the asari was quick to say.

"It's alright; I have an appointment to keep." His eyes darted between Arin and Deela and then to the approaching waitress, who returned him his chit. He then stood and turned his fleeting attention back to Arin. "Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies."

When he left, Deela put her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together, giving her friend a heavy, dramatic sigh.

What?" she asked defensively. Any thought of Banes gone and forgotten. At least for now.

"You know what." The asari set her chin on the bridge her hands made, looking every bit like a spoiled little girl doing her best to get her way.

Arin scowled and leaned back in her chair. "Not really." Arin thought for a minute whether she should set aside the remaining squid and vegetables in favor of the chocolate cake, having grown tired of the insipid taste it had quickly acquired.

"What an interesting night this is."

"What are you on about?" Before Deela could answer, the waitress returned with two wine glasses and filled them with an almost clear, ivory liquid. "Oh, sorry but, we didn't order this," she said to the waitress with a smile.

The young asari, who Arin would normally swear could not be younger than seventeen but knew she very could be as old as fifty, smiled as she clipped a singular wine stand to the side of the table and nestled the wine bottle in its cool container. "Compliments of the gentleman who just left." The nurse's eyes widened in equal parts shock and mortification, while her friend had one of those famed, haughty asari grins plastered on her face. "He said he hoped your day gets better."

Still astonished, Arin couldn't utter a word. But Deela hadn't lost her tongue as easily as her friend. "Did he leave a name? Anything?" The younger asari shook her head. "Do you know who he is?"

The waitress smiled kindly at Deela and Arin, probably in hopes that that would be an answer in itself. "I'm sorry, we're not allowed to release our costumers' personal information."

The nurse swallowed hard before finally speaking again. "No, no. That's alright. Thank you." Dismissed, the waitress left the two friends to tend to a nearby table. "Wow."

"I know," Deela said, taking the bottle from its safe case. "This wine's older than you! I know this isn't the fanciest place around, but this bottle is still very respectable."

"Respectable," she repeated with the biggest and probably most ridiculous grin she's ever had. "I've never… I mean, I've gotten free drinks before but this is a whole other thing."

Deela, who opened her mouth and looked as though she would continue with Arin's train of thought, decided against it and opted for a taste of the wine instead. She smiled to herself, thoroughly enjoying the taste.

"You can't just smile like that and not pour me a drink! Let me see." After Deela poured her some wine, Arin took a sip. It was good. It was very, very good, leaving a bitter aftertaste that didn't linger too long before it settled.

The asari finally sat the bottle back in its nest, but not before topping her glass again. "You know," she began, looking at Arin from the side in the way she did when she was contemplating something annoying, "it occurred to me a while ago that turians seem drawn to you. Kind of like varren to a freshly-ripped piece of meat."

"Well aren't you sweet?" She took another bite of her main meal, happy that the taste had returned to it.

"You know what I mean." Exasperated, Deela pouted and squinted her eyes, gauging her friend for a second. "Well, maybe that's exaggerating. More like in the vorcha to explosives."

"Oh that is so much better," said the nurse, letting sarcasm flow out of every word. Arin finished chewing and dismissed Deela with a wave of her hand. "At any rate, you couldn't be any more wrong."

"Think about it. Remember that clumsy turian at Flux?" Deela's tiger-esque violet markings warped as she raised the skin above her eyes. Her mouth turned into a pout when her friend didn't answer. "You know! The one who spilled his drink all over your lovely new dress."

"Oh, God. Don't remind me," she cried, taking a quick sip of the wine and another mouthful of food. "Still has a stain on it."

"And what about other turians who've asked you to dance at Purgatory, and Thessian Moon?"

Arin scowled, disliking the turn of the conversation. "You make it sound like there's been a lot. I can count them with one hand. Maybe two. Maybe."

"Perhaps you're right," Deela caved. "But you must remember that human-turian relations are still a fresh wound. Healing, yes, but fresh nevertheless."

"But that was so long ago," Arin argued.

"Was it?"

It was Arin's turn to roll her eyes, knowing perfectly well Deela's question was no question at all. "Alright, alright, I'll grant you that. But they're clubs, Deela, people dance. Everybody dances with everybody. That kind of the point."

"A turian asking a human to dance is uncommon, even if all everyone involved is drunk."

"Wish I was drunk," said Arin, who then took a long swig of her wine all the while watching her asari friend, whose grin reappeared shortly after. Wincing a little as the bitterness took over, Arin's frown returned. "It's just so weird," she mused, "I've never been given something just like that. No strings, no name. It's… nice."

"What did he say to you anyway?" Deela asked the nurse.

The last of the vegetables on her plate looked like a soggy potato; her bottom lip slid into her mouth, like it was afraid of giving said vegetable entry. She'd pass. "Nothing really, he heard our conversation and argued that not all men are pigs."

"I think I know why they might be attracted to you," said Deela, seemingly ignoring what Arin had just said. "The turians."

"We're back to this?"

"Back? I never dismissed it." The asari pulled the chocolate cake to her and waited for a prompt from her friend to continue, but when none came, she went on. "You look like a quarian," she said plainly.

"And you know what quarians look like," Arin remarked.

Deela gave her friend another exasperated look. "Well, no, not in person, but there are a few racy vids you know. Besides, just look at them. You have the quarians' curves- turians are suckers for curves. Like batarians to ti-"

"Yes, I can see why I look exactly like a quarian. Now I just need a colorful bucket for my head."

"Oh fine, so it's just the one thing. But your hair is also interesting."

"Interesting, not sure how I feel about that description."

"And lovely," Deela assured her. "I like it. I wonder what it would look like in blue."

"We'll have a human Spectre before I let you do that to me."

"Indigo?"


Even though it was the weekend, and therefore should have had Dr. Michel's clinic buzzing with patients, it was rather quiet. Though perhaps that was largely due to the drastic change in her schedule: Doctor Michel had basically done a one-eighty on her schedule since the day after the incident with Banes. Well, at least there was still much to do. Mainly, inventory and sending out supply forms. Before Arin knew it, the first half of her workday had come and gone; the hours seemed to speed a lot faster than they should have.

The sterile smell and feel of the clinic at times could be nauseating, but lately, all the sights and smells of the Citadel irritated Arin. Every day was too much like the previous one; there was nothing new and exciting, no adventures like the ones she was promised as a child, and the weather always remained the same. Who were they kidding? The Citadel had no weather. No wind to stir the various smells in the air, rain to caress your skin, or cold winter nights to force you to stay home with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book as your best friends. Then again, having grown up an Alliance brat, she had very little time to experience these delicacies before she was back on a ship. Or, as of right now, the Citadel.

Never exciting; always monotonous. Despite last week's incident with the junkie and the bully.

Arin sighed, setting down the MarsGene order-pad back into its delegated nook. Next was… the Sirta Foundation. On one hand, Arin held the pad, and the other tentatively rested on the tags around her neck. She felt like a disappointment to her brother, having sacrificed so much for her so she could find herself and her dreams— yet here she was, doing anything but.

The hiss of the front door opening snapped her from her thoughts. She was at the other end of the clinic, and the entranced was blocked from her view.

"May I help you?" she called in the general direction, hoping whoever was there would show themselves. Moments later, a quarian girl appeared and quickly rushed to her side breathing hard and, sounding too much like she was crying, Arin couldn't help but bring her in an embrace. "A-are you alright?" she asked softly, gently rubbing circles on the quarian's back to calm the young girl. But when the little quarian kept on sobbing, Arin held her firmly at arm's length to take a good look at her. No visible injuries, though her suit was slightly dirty. Maybe she'd been a recent victim of prejudice and had run to the first place she saw. "What's the matter? What happened to you?"

The quarian covered her masked face with her oddly shaped hands. It was such a human gesture that strangely transcended across many of the galaxy's other species. Arin set the order-pad she'd been holding on the desk and focused solely on the person before her, just now noting how beautiful the quarian's luminous eyes glowed through her purple mask. The nurse smiled at the girl and held her there for a few more seconds, when the quarian finally spoke.

"Someone told me you help people. People like me," the girl said in a hard accent.

"People like you? What do you mean? Are you hurt?" At once, the nurse spun the quarian this way and that way to search for anything she may have missed. Sure enough, the back of the quarian's left thigh had darkened a spot on her suit. Arin bent down to take a better look, avoiding touching anything because she'd forgotten to put gloves on. The suit's operation system must have been working overtime, because part of the rupture was already sown closed.

"What happened?" Arin asked, fearful her guess might be true.

"I… I was shot," she replied calmly, though her shoulders shook from the aftershock of her sobbing.

"Let me get the do—"

"Arin, could you the 'uman embassy to see if they 'ave received the fund request for molecular gene therapy— oh, forgive me I did not know anyone 'ad come in— I'm Doctor Michel." The doctor extended her hand to the quarian, but Arin decided there were more pressing matters than formalities.

"Doctor, she's been shot, laceration on back of left thigh."

"You're Doctor Michel," the quarian asserted before either of the other two women could speak again.

Arin hadn't meant for the quarian to mistake her for the doctor, but she hadn't exactly gotten the idea that she was being mistaken in the first place. "And I'm her nurse. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself."

"I know." The quarian looked down, with one hand at her waist and the other holding her forehead. "I… I need your help, doctor."

"Yes," Dr. Michel agreed, "you do."


After locking the doors, changing the decontamination beams on the highest emergency setting, Arin entered the backroom, where Doctor Michel was waiting for her to do a bioscan with her omni-tool. In fact, the doctor was already busy tending to the quarian, who was lying face down, and her suit was cut where she'd been shot.

"Disable the suit weave."

Arin slapped on a pair of gloves, though with the decontamination set on emergency, she hardly saw a need for them. "What's your name?" she asked the quarian, while she brought up her omni-tool.

"Tali'Zora nar Rayya."

"And I'm Arin Shepard," she said, more to calm the girl than out of any desire to exchange personal information with her.

The suit weave controls were pass-code protected, which struck Arin as odd because most quarians had their suits set so any medical personnel could disable them. They did this so the doctors could better care for them with ease, which in turn allowed the doctors to stop whatever was happening to their bodies faster. Risking further infection was simply not worth the extra pass-code to most quarians. This girl must have been paranoid.

"Tali'Zora, I'm gonna need you to enter your pass-code with your omni-tool to disable the weave, otherwise we're gonna have anti-sealing nodes holding it open while the doctor works. And they're not fun for anyone." At this, the quarian brought up her omni-tool and accepted the request from Arin.

"Weave disabled," the nurse said after a moment. "thank you, Tali'Zora." She moved her omni-tool across the table to do a bioscan, which showed nothing else other than the shot wound and a slight fever. "Doctor, she has a grade C fever. A-nine elevated heartbeat. Minor inflammation on wound site. And that's about it."

"Good," the doctor said whilst working with metal depressors on the quarian, which meant she had already applied local anesthetics and cleaned the sound. "Hold this," she said when a depressor wasn't holding steady. Arin held it in place while the doctor continued to work, and did her best to avoid looking at the quarian's lavender skin. For a nurse, she was much too squeamish for her own good.

Not five minutes passed before the doctor pulled out a metal shaving, and was patching the quarian back up. When the doctor nodded, Arin brought up her omni-tool and enabled the suit's weaving again. "You were lucky, no important tissue was damaged. Sit up when you are able." The quarian's suit would take care of the rest. With Arin's assistance, the quarian sat up on the table, just a little higher than the other two women. "What happened?" the doctor finally asked something Arin had been wanting to learn the moment the quarian stepped into her view.

"I was shot," the quarian began, causing a condescending brow to rise on the doctor's face.

"Who shot you?" the doctor countered.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry… I was on my Pilgrimage, and. And. I need to talk to the Shadowbroker," she said, turning to the doctor. "I heard you know him"

The doctor looked unfazed. She shook her head before she spoke. "I'm sorry, I do not know the Shadowbroker."

"Please!" the quarian begged, "I have information about someone important, I don't want credits, just a place to hide! Please!"

Doctor Michel took the quarian's hands and sighed. "I don't know the Shadowbroker, but I may know someone that does. 'Is name is Fist. I can put you in contact with 'im if you want. We can give you privacy if it's urgent."

"He knows the Shadowbroker?"

"It is well-known 'e is an informant for the Broker, I do not know any more than that."

The quarian steadied herself and nodded once decidedly. The doctor transferred information to the quartian's omni-tool, and led the way to the front of the clinic, where the two women cleaned themselves and sat in silence. Arin pondered if the doctor was trying to overhear any of the quarian's conversation, like she was.

It's not like Arin had a tendency to snoop, she was just curious. A quarian asking about the Shadowbroker was an odd thing to see- it was only after Deela mentioned the Shadowbroker that Arin learned about him, and this quarian looked fresh off a ship. Something didn't sit right with Arin, and for a moment she wondered what Garrus would have to say about the sketchy scene.

The door to the operating room opened with the quarian behind it. She walked to where the two women now stood and exhaled- sounding much more relieved than when she came in. Arin had a feeling the quarian was smiling behind that mask. Local anesthetics wouldn't do that.

"He said I would get to see the Shadowbroker after I met him in ..."

Arin's omni-tool pinged; someone had was trying to call her, so she stepped to the side to answer it. And she didn't need to hear the rest of the quarian's sentence to know she was probably heading to Chora's.

An asari face appeared on the holo-screen.

'Clinic's door is locked. Weren't we having lunch after you shift?' Lunch! Arin threw her head back, incredulous of her failed memory- but then again, she could blame it on the new schedule.

"I'll be out in a sec," she promised the asari and turned the comm-link off, retuning her attention to the quarian and the doctor.

"Are you leaving?" the doctor asked.

"If that's alright."

"Of course. Get started on your weekend," the doctor said with a delighted tone. "Oh, but would you mind taking Miss nar Rayya to Chora's Den?"

Arin smiled brightly. "Not at all, I'll see you in a few days. Ready to go?" The quarian nodded and followed the nurse outside.

"I thought we were having lunch before I had to go to work," said Deela before noticing the quarian beside her friend. "Oh. Hello."

"We still are. Would you like to have dinner before I take you to Chora's Den? It's on me," Arin assured the quarian, who shook her head quickly.

"No," she replied hastily, "the sooner we go, the sooner I meet the Shadowbroker."

"Meet the Shadowbroker?" Deela asked, a sour smirk spread on her purple-tinged lips. "Nobody meets the Shadowbroker. Not even his own agents."

The quarian stepped back, visibly startled despite the mask. "But Fist said he would set up a meeting for me to see the Shadowbroker in person."

The asari laughed icily, in that same way she did when Arin didn't believe that Ethan was a bad choice to date. "Fist isn't a trustworthy person," she admitted. "And I should know, I've been working for him for years."

"But this is important, and I'm not asking for credits!" the quarian cried, "I have to meet the Shadowbroker!"

Deela scowled. "Look, I don't know you or what's going on," she said, giving Arin a pointed look. "But not even Fist has met the Shadowbroker. Nobody does. Take that however you want. Arin?"

"Just wait a second," the nurse said to her friend. "Look, Tali'Zora—"

"Just Tali…"

"Tali," she began, squaring on the quarian, "when I first got here, I didn't know a lot of people, but I knew some. But it was only because my friend here approached me, and showed me the ropes, that I'm standing here with my sanity. And my life probably.

"You take a wrong turn, piss the wrong person off, or just eat the wrong food. You could die. The Citadel may appear like a symbol for galactic peace, but this place is just as bloody as Omega and as crooked as Illium."

"But I have no other choice," the quarian said, her tone threatening like she might break into a wail.

Arin looked to Deela for support, who only shrugged in pity before speaking. "I'll just say that anyone saying they can introduce you to the Shadowbroker personally is lying. That Fist is saying it, just makes it even more suspicious."

"I… I don't know what to do," Tali said, bringing her hands to clasp her mask.

"Tali?" Arin waited until the quarian uncovered herself. "Look, someone helped me when I got here," said the human, stealing a glance toward her friend, "and if you want, I'd like to help you now. You told the doctor you're just looking for a place to hide. You can hole up in my place free of charge, at least until this whole thing blows over. "

"Blows over?"

"Uh, until everything gets back to normal," she explained. "It's not very big but you're welcome to stay as long as you need."

"You would do that?"

"Yes. Deela?"

"Not a word to Fist, I promise," the asari pressed a palm to her chest. "Though I guess we're not having lunch, huh?"

Arin laughed. "We are. We'll just have to drop by Palaven and eat at my place. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," the asari and quarian said in unison.

She would have to consider telling Dr. Michel what went down in case Fist asked questions. Maybe tomorrow she'd drop by to warn her.