Chapter 2: Take Out

The crime scene was protected by a single C-Sec agent and a locked seal. The turian on duty straightened his posture when he noticed Shepard and Vakarian walking towards him. He recognized Garrus first and his mouth and mandibles tightened as his fellow turian walked closer. The officer's stance changed from alert to stubborn defiance with the slight jutting out of the chin and bracing of the shoulders. Shepard was interested to know exactly what Garrus did to make his peers in C-Sec react to him with such resentment. Garrus seemed unaffected by the attitude; stopping in front of the agent he announced in a civil tone, "Executor Pallin gave us authority over this case. I'm here with my partner to investigate the crime scene."

At the word partner the officer glanced at Shepard for a long moment, his eyes widening when he recognized the ex-convict. Shepard smiled placidly at the officer, bearing his stare.

"Hi, I'm Detective Shepard. Do you mind if we enter the crime scene?"

"No ma'am."

The guard brought up his omni-tool, tapped a button with one talon and stepped aside once the seal on the apartment door turned green. As Shepard walked into the crime scene the guard's eyes followed her with a look that bothered Vakarian more than he thought it would. Though Vakarian didn't know what to think of Shepard yet, he didn't like the fact that other agents were treating his new partner with such open disrespect. Everyone in C-Sec treated the human like a new form of vorcha.

"Officer Turlin," The sharp clipped tones of Garrus's voice brought the guard's attention back to the detective before him.

"What you have learned from the neighbors of the deceased?"

Shepard paused in front of the doorway and smiled; she wondered if Garrus's anger was from the look the officer gave her or due to his babysitting role. Detective Vakarian had so far behaved very neutrally towards Shepard. Keeping himself distant, and polite. Their short exchange in the C-Sec elevator confirmed what Shepard suspected; the turian was waiting to see if she had the brains of a detective before he would offer any respect. While Shepard wasn't holding her breath for any sign of friendship from her new partner, she didn't want to start her new career with Vakarian as her enemy.

As the officer gave his report to her partner, Shepard entered the victim's home. The grey metal doors opened with a sucking hiss, a gentle intake of air from the door's contaminant countermeasures. She stepped into the living area, trying to distance herself from the sounds of her partner talking and the noise of the busy district. Shepard's gut quivered with anxiety; it had been so long since her last official mission. Despite the differences from C-Sec and the Alliance Marines, she felt the same pull towards civic duty that had appealed to her on Earth when she was barely eighteen. Before the Alliance Shepard lived in an old, broken down neighborhood with a lot of dead end streets. Shepard escaped one of those dead ends by joining the Marines. C-Sec enabled Shepard to live her life with only slight differences of what she did twelve years ago, before the trail. She was once again dressed in a uniform that symbolized a code of justice. The familiarity of her role settled her nerves and Shepard focused her thoughts on solving this case.

Looking around she noticed she was in a private living space-calling it an apartment would be retailer propaganda-there were two rooms to the space, the sleeping area and the common area where Shepard stood. The bodies were to her left next to a small couch that took up most of the space in the room. Only a small knocked over table and one fractured glass on the ground in a puddle of clear liquid indicated violence besides the dead bodies. Both victims were turian; one was laying face up in a pool of blue blood while the other closer to the door was laying face down. The sight of victim's bodies sent a thrill up Shepard's spine along with a slight wave of nausea. Sometimes in prison, if a convict was rude to the wrong person they'd be found just like these two bodies. In their cot or the shower area, bodies cold and blood beginning to stain the floor. Eventually the guards would come. Shepard walked closer and took out white safety gloves from one of her leg pockets. The elastic material fit snugly around the form of her hands and she resisted the urge to snap the lip of the glove against her wrist. An old habit that was as much for the pleasure of hearing the sound as for the momentary sting of pain.

She knew the forensic team had already swept the area; still she didn't want to spoil the crime scene by introducing new evidence. Even after twelve years of technological advancement some things still stayed the same. She walked to the puddle of clear liquid and squatted next to the cracked glass with her knees apart. Shepard bent her back forward a little; she rubbed a bit of the liquid between her fingers. Spreading her fingers apart revealed the liquid had evaporated. She brought both fingers close to her nose for an experimental sniff and didn't pick up any scents except the rubber material of her gloves. Shepard wrinkled her nose in puzzlement; she didn't know of any liquor that had no distinctive scent and evaporated quickly when heated.

Shepard turned away from the glass and focused on the turian lying face up. She paid attention to the details of the crime scene rather than concentrating on the startled expression on the turian's face. With her other gloved hand she touched the victim; the body was cold, a sure sign of death for a turian whose species' natural body temperature was higher than that of humans; the other sign of death was a circular hole in the middle of the turian's breast cavity. The edges of the turian's black tunic was singed and there was a sharp smell of metal that hung in the air around the body. Shepard knew turian biology had evolved so they sported a metallic exoskeleton, but the scent that was assaulting her nostrils was different. The smell was similar to the discharge of a heavy pistol.

Shepard adjusted the victim's head, turning it to face her. His yellow eyes were dull and the jaw and mandibles hung open. She leaned closer careful not to touch the blood. With an experimental sniff Shepard vetoed out the idea that the turian had been drinking; his mouth smelled vaguely of decay and leather. Shepard didn't see any bruising on the turian's neck, another blank box on her mental list of signs for a possible struggle. Shepard heard footsteps behind her and turned her head. Garrus stood over her, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before concentrating on the victim. His face leaked no emotion, distant from the death before him like a seasoned professional. Shepard wondered if her partner was unsettled by the two turians laying dead before him. All turians she knew held a certain level of pride about their species.

"The agent said nobody heard anything last night or earlier in the day. Not surprising, people who live in this area are known to mind their own business and keep their mouths shut," Garrus said with a small echo of the rumble characteristic of his species.

"Nobody wants to share the same fate as these two by talking to C-Sec," Shepard stood up and moved to look at the other victim letting Garrus to get a better look at the first body. He bent his tall frame to inspect the victim.

The second victim was dressed in a tan brown soft armor suit, the kind one would see for diplomats or lower businessmen like clerks. His arms and legs suggested the turian had either been walking away when he was shot or was ordered to give his back to the shooter. There was no evidence of struggle, similar to the first victim, except for the small singed hole through the victim's upper chest cavity.

"These two were having drinks with somebody," Garrus leaned down to put his face close to the victim's, "Smells like Apex C3."

Shepard's gives the turian an inquisitive look, "Some kind of turian vodka?"

"More like your human whiskey."

Shepard crosses her arms across her chest, "If they were having drinks then why is there only one cup?"

"Okay, so one person in the room is having a drink. It is unlikely it's the killer as the forensics state the only prints they picked up in the apartment were the two victims on the floor. It would be pretty sloppy for the shooter to leave his DNA on a cup when everything else is neat and tidy. "

"Do think this one of these two was one of the top drug hitters in the area?"

Garrus looks over the plain face of the victim again and then stood up to get a look at the second victim's face, "Neither look familiar nor does the bleeder's name ring any bells."

"You got his name?"

"You can get it by scanning the apartment door with your omni-tool."

"Huh," Shepard walked over the door and activated her omni-tool.

In a few moments her omni-tool gave her the citizen license information of one Aelianus Branas as well as the landlord of the apartment. Shepard stared at the information in glowing orange font. She recalled working with her omni-tool in the field when she was Alliance; watching the information scroll down on her omni-tool screen, Shepard could feel the years of her incarceration pressing down on her shoulders. She turned back to Detective Vakarian with her eyebrows raised.

"It's like living in the future. It's the one thing I still haven't gotten used to being out of prison. All the new functions and amplifiers that have come out for omni-tools are so," Shepard paused for a moment, "futuristic."

Garrus looked at his partner, his expression indicating he couldn't decide if Shepard was being serious or not, "The future?"

"Yeah, you know. Flying in space, contact with alien species. Something about flying jet packs to work," Shepard said while reading her omni-tool.

"Don't humans do all that now?"

Shepard looked up from her omni-tool to stare at Garrus; she couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a twitch of his mandible hiding a smile.

"Well, yes," she admitted, "Everything except the jet packs. The jet packs were very important."

Shepard went back to reading Mr. Branas' citizen license, missing Garrus's small shake of his head. According to her records, Mr. Branas came from a turian colony to the Citadel 20 years ago. There was a personal shuttle serial number on his card and Shepard made a note to search it after they left the crime scene. Processing all the information Shepard started to mentally visualize what happened in the victim's apartment.

"Mr. Branas and his guest get an unexpected visitor," Shepard said, "There aren't any defense bruises on the body so it's someone he knows. He lets him in, maybe offers him a drink and they get to talking."

Shepard walked over to the victim looking at the knocked-over table and visualizing a scenario in her mind. "Something goes wrong, things get heated and the perp shoots Mr. Branas point blank in the chest."

Shepard turned to check with Garrus. She knew he had some doubts about her, so she felt relief when he nodded in agreement with her hypothesis. If she could convince Garrus of her skills as a detective it would make working in C-Sec a little easier. Shepard didn't have any illusions about her opposition to being in C-Sec. Her advocate, Liara T'soni, had managed to secure her a position in the Citadel because of her court settlement. Ignoring the fact that Shepard was probably one in a handful of human investigators currently at C-Sec, she hadn't started as a regular enforcement officer and worked her way up from the ground. Shepard couldn't blame C-Sec agents for distrusting her because she had bought her way into her position; in the Alliance military they called officers who were promoted into rank because a few hands were greased behind closed doors. Shepard wondered what slur they used in C-Sec.

"Judging from the shot in Mr. Branas's chest the perp couldn't have been a volus, hanar or an elcor. The angle of the bullet was straight meaning the perp had to be holding the weapon at arm level."

Shepard mimicked the position, standing with her right arm stretched out parallel to the floor. Her hand was fisted with her index finger out, mimicking the imaginary murder weapon. Garrus stood in front of Shepard and lined up her hand with his chest. Shepard blinked, uncertain for a moment with Garrus's participation, but the turian was watching Shepard patiently. Shepard stared at her hand and the location of Garrus's chest where the bullet hole should be; she frowned, and stepped closer until her index finger touched the smooth surface of Garrus's armor.

"If the perp shot Mr. Branas point blank in the chest then there would have been a bigger burn on his tunic," Shepard said, "There also would've been noise from the weapon being shot."

Shepard looked up to see Garrus looking down at where her finger was touching his armor. He looked up at her and raised his left brow. Shepard dropped her arm and took a few steps back.

"Sorry."

"The perp must've had a silencer on the weapon to mask the sound. That would explain why no one heard anything and the small burn on his clothes."

"So shooter came with the intent of killing Mr. Branas, and the second victim becomes an innocent casualty. Wrong place, wrong time."

Shepard walked around the common area going past the turian's body to where the bedroom area was. The doors were locked; the seal on the door was red. She turned to look at Mr. Branas's body. When the victim was alive he was standing facing the bedroom door.

"Since the perp came with the intention of killing Mr. Branas's, we can rule out manslaughter," Shepard mused aloud. "Was it just to kill Mr. Branas or was the perp coming for thing else?"

"You think the perp wanted something from one of the victims?"

Shepard smiled, "We all want something Detective Vakarian."

"And what is it that you want Detective Shepard?" Garrus said with a more pronounced cadence to his voice.

"I want a peaceful soul. With a peaceful soul I can spread joy and love to others."

Garrus blinked a few times, "Uh."

"But right now," Shepard looked at the bedroom door, "I want to see what's in Mr. Branas's bedroom."

Shepard looked back at Garrus and saw his annoyed look; his brows shifted down and his mandibles were stuck close to his jaw. Shepard wondered if Garrus was annoyed often. Turians had a gaze that was intense and predatory due to the pronounced eyes and straightforward stare. Fortified by military training, all the turians Shepard knew were able to give off a rapacious look when they wanted to. Or perhaps the species of the dead ruffled her partner's plated scales more than his cool attitude let on.

"I want to know what else the perp wanted from Mr. Branas besides his life."

Shepard brought up her omni-tool and unlocked the door seal using the C-Sec code provided in the file from Executor Pallin. There was a cheerful beep from the door before it slid open. The room was small and messy; there was a strange smell in the room; the scent was light, slightly oily and vaguely familiar. The mattress on the bed was slightly askew from the frame with all the sheets on the floor. A small corner desk was a mess of tech parts data pads and small electronic tools. On the floor was a broken portable terminal. The terminal was smashed in the middle, as if repeatedly crushed by a heavy object like a foot. Shepard squatted down and lifted up the small machine; several pieces of metal and plastic fell off.

She lifted the terminal higher for Garrus to see and asked, "You think the IT guys will be able to pull something off of this?"

Garrus shrugged and lifted his arm to try to scan it with his omni-tool. The orange glow of the screen made the blue sections of the turian's armor take a dark green shade. The omni-tool emitted an accusatory beep at Garrus letting Shepard know whatever data the terminal might have held has been destroyed. There was little hope the IT agents back at C-Sec headquarters would be able to pull anything off of the machine. Shepard set the terminal down and stood up. She carefully walked over to the desk to take a closer look at what kind of tools Branas was fiddling with. She felt something soft give way under her boot and paused; she looked down to see a big stain spreading underneath the white bed sheet on the floor.

Crouching down she picked up the corner of the sheet and slowly pulled it up. The smell was stronger closer to the ground and the scent clung to the back of her throat like phlegm. The sheet made a small slurping sound and gave a small amount of resistance before revealing what Shepard had stepped on; a box of food. It was stained from the grease leaving the container yellowed and limp. The food wasn't anything recognizable to Shepard, but with the smell crawling down her throat she remembered a turian food stall in the Zakera Ward that gave off the same aroma. Shepard leaned down to read the label off the box and saw the name Valentinus in red print.

"I think we have a lead on where Mr. Branas was seen last," Shepard said and pointed to her find.

Garrus stepped closer and sniffed, a small quiver of his flat nose. "I thought I smelled turian take out."

"You know the name Valentinus?"

"Yes, I often go there to eat lunch on breaks. Nice place, family run."

"Mr. Branas liked eat there too. We might want stop over there to see if they can tell us anything about our victim. He might have visited the restaurant with our perp."

"Good idea, we should also check out his registered shuttle."

Shepard smiled, "My thoughts exactly."