Thank you to all those that have read and reviewed!
As Promised, another chapter! XD Thank you for those that poked me to continue with this.
Rated M. I own nothing, Please enjoy.
OoOoOo
All roads led to Shepard.
He honestly should not have been surprised, and truthfully he isn't. No. He knows the little human he saved, male or female -he still couldn't quite tell-, had scampered off. Safe, at least for a few minutes, and as Garrus sprinted out of that section and into another; he slowed down as to not attract attention to himself.
As if a Turian running from dead Batarians wouldn't just scream 'I did something'. He clacked his mandible together and noticed the eyes that followed him occasionally. The ones that did not warrant enough attention to normally be high on his internal instincts of danger.
The Vermin. Little eyes too large on unwashed and thin faces.
The unseen waifs and lives that had been designated as trash. Not that such a description did not fit all of Omega, but these were the ones that even criminals very rarely pitied. Too poor to buy protection and too weak to fight for it through normal means. He'd seen them from time to time, and known what had happened to them, yet he had never understood why they had not died as often as the ones at the Citadel.
It had been a thought that curled in the back of his mind, as if it were sleeping. Something he had noticed, but never really questioned terribly much because he'd been too damn busy trying to keep his ass from being blasted or murdered.
He'd been trying to make it a better place for everyone. Yet, that seemed as if it were a lifetime ago. Someone else's life. Someone else's goal. He'd seen the blown apart skulls of his men, and the husks of soon-to-be-rotting flesh. He had not given a damn about the vermin. Garrus had not really questioned why they did not end up in the back areas onto of trash like so many did.
Now, however, he had an idea. As he pretended not to see the newest dingy human child move backward and more into the shadowed refuse as he passed by. His dual harmonics betrayed his mounting frustration at his own blindness to the surroundings that had been present before. They were actively watching him, and Garrus did not doubt for a single instant, that someone had ordered them to be on the lookout for him.
If he were flexible enough, he would have kicked his own ass. As the humans in C-SEC used to say. He, full of detective knowledge and experience, hadn't even seen the signs that had been right in front of him the whole time.
Reflection had brought him a great deal of wisdom, and fanned the flames of his fury simultaneously.
He would have to go to areas too unsavory for even the 'vermin' to venture, if he had any hopes of catching Shepard unaware. It such a thing was possible.
It looked as if he was going into Vorcha territory. Just when he thought this place couldn't be any more of a cesspool. Internally he snarled as his sub harmonics betrayed his disgust at the thought of dealing with those violent scumbags. They did not live very long compared to any race, but they were prolific breeders. How they had managed to make it into space was beyond Garrus.
However, he was getting side-tracked. He ducked around a corner, listening actively for the sounds of small feet to follow. There were none to be had. He knew a great deal about Vorcha territory, and none of it was a pleasant reminder to Garrus about his time on this fucking wasteland they had the gall to call a station.
If Shepard hadn't of taken care of the widows, he would have possibly chalked her up as a lost cause. However, he still needed answers and lucky enough for both of them; Shepard had them.
A hiss from the left, had Garrus stepping backward into the shadows. It seemed he had already found some of the bastards hanging out behind the apartment sectors. It was not surprise. Who in their right mind would rent space to a Vorcha? They were notoriously aggressive, though some claimed to have seen them use of modicum of intelligence from time to time. Garrus didn't care. They all died the same way.
He clutched his weapon closer, his avian eyes narrowed as he trilled an aggressive warble with his harmonics.
It would be best not to be noticed, but if he had to be found... well... he had plenty of heat sinks to go around.
OoOoOo
She was sitting in the private room the Patriarch had her stay in whenever he had 'business' that did not include her skills. No doubt some other iron-fisted blood bath in the making. He made them fear Shepard, and she was such a good little puppet.
However, she was also, at her heart a duct rat. An unwanted life that had been tossed away, much like Tassus. When she was younger, barely scrapping by on the crumbs left in bins, she wondered what her parents must have been like. She stopped caring when she was old enough to realize that wanted children were kept by their parents.
Her wide eyes had watched from the dirty grime of the shadows as other children were loved. They were held, fed, and played with. Shepard had never been inclined to self-pity. There had been someone like her to take care of a human orphan.
She assumed she must have been an orphan.
Shepard clenched her jaw in irritation. Such thoughts and memories provided nothing. However, even in her finest moments, she knew that the past was not something one could outrun. Like how it had caught up to her and landed her in, what she could only presume would be a short life, miserable slavery.
For there was nowhere to go, and no way for her to get to any place even if she had one. As a human, there were some options open to her, but she was Earth-Born. Couldn't prove citizenship, even if she was the same species, and that left her staring at her Krogan guard with a great deal of anger.
His eyes caught hers, and Shepard looked away briefly. Stemming the anger and shame she felt when he chuckled lowly. The Patriarch would never permit him to kill her, but perhaps maiming was not entirely out of the question. After all, she was just a figure head for him to parade around and be the focus of any backlash.
She had tried, a few times in fact, to check up on her former charges. Most had come back with the same news. All was as well as could be expected. They had grown accustomed to their new lives, and Consara had even found employment .
And, time had made it impossible to protect Garrus any longer. He'd gotten too bold, and Shepard could not hide him from inquires any longer. So she'd made her deal with the devil, and now he was alive. For the time being.
If he was smart, and she dearly hoped he was, he would not come back.
She would need to check in with her information network soon enough. However, at this moment she was restricted to this room until the Patriarch was finished. She had only been able to move the families of Garrus' men when everyone else had been focused on the next big threat to the absolute ownership of Omega.
If they made an issue out of wanting to make an example of the families, Shepard would have to move them again. Perhaps off of Omega, but that held its own set of risks. Ones that held far greater stakes if she couldn't pull it off without someone tipping off the Patriarch. Corruption ran deep in Omega, but power and credits were deeper still.
OoOoOo
It took him six days, and cost fourteen Vorcha their lives. A sad and slightly lamentable outcome. He supposed. It had cost him credits he'd barely been able to scrape together and no small amount of self-respect for the Turian he used to be.
Vengeance was such an interesting thing. He'd managed to find several of the more underhanded dealers in Omega. Which was not difficult considering his past experience on the station. It made his plates crawl to even think about what other unsavory dealings he had liberated the people from.
However, he had managed to track down Shepard. She wasn't hard to spot in Omega's club 'Afterlife'. He clicked his mandibles together in irritation as he watched her lounge on one of the higher rooms. Her eyes, still were strange to him. He would have sworn to the spirits that she looked 'through' him once or twice.
Yet, he face never reflected recognition. She appeared bored, if anything. His harmonics warbled in controlled fury. Several barefaced at the club moved back, knowing the signs of a Turian about to unleash physical violence if given the opportunity.
Garrus clacked his mandibles closed, and focused on the areas of the club that would be easily accessible, but not overly used. There were a thousand places to hide, if one had some creativity and the nerve. He would observe her tonight, and try to determine her routine. If she had one, he reminded himself grimly. HIs hands clenched with anticipation.
He had to know.
He moved passed an Asari, who he swore couldn't have been much over 60, and clung to the outskirts of the rooms. He had to behave in a manner that suited Omega, and would not give away his intentions. His azure eyes noted the large number of guards in the club. Some in plain clothes, and some that were completely dedicated to watching Shepard's back.
Garrus narrowed his eyes on one guard that caught sight of him. He lounged against the bar, ordering a drink he neither wanted nor needed, as he patiently waited for the other to grow less suspicious of him. To pass the time, he flirted heavily with an Asari dancer, that looked displeased at his attempts.
He wasn't trying to get anywhere with her, but she was a useful distraction. As soon as he sensed he was no longer being watched, he carefully cut the chatting short and wandered up toward the next floor. A hatch marked for storage and wiring was forced open, it's groan of protest was easily hidden by the pulsing beat.
Garrus shoved the hatch to nearly closed again. He quickly set up his position, his armor gave a soft hiss as he grabbed his weapon. The scope on his eyes flared to life and left a soft blue glow about the darkness. There was little room for him, but he brought the gun up, the tip of it barely reaching flush with the hatch door, as he poked it through the opening that allowed him to stare directly at where Shepard was sitting.
He was nearly overtaken by a rush of emotion.
His blue eyes narrowed harshly behind his scope. The Shadows cloaked him in their darkness and provided a great deal of cover. It would be so easy, almost unbelievably easy, to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet through her head.
Especially at this distance.
However, he still owed his men the answers he'd been seeking. Had it been Shepard? Had she ordered his men slaughtered? Or had it been someone else? Was she in danger? Or was she the danger?
His gaze caressed her face, noting the haggard appearance about her eyes. That seemed out of place for a hardened piece of filth, if she was one. He wove nearly silently through the throng of gyrating bodies and overly loud music. No doubt several of them were out of their minds with drugs or alcohol. Or both.
His predatory gaze noticed that a new male had come toward Shepard, and her eyes glanced at him briefly. Her demeanor was outwardly cold. As cold as she had been the day she'd forced him off of Omega. Words were exchanged, though he could not tell what they were at this distance.
Shepard stood, her arms akimbo. She said something to the Turian guard that had handed him the good-sized bruise to his face. Garrus clacked his mandibles in futile male anger.
The guard nudged her forward. Garrus narrowed his eyes and pulled back. Something wasn't right. A guard would never dare touch her if she ruled Omega. Regardless of circumstance, outside of imminent danger. His mandibles flared slightly as he noted her posture. She was only faintly pulling in on herself.
The turian had known humans long enough to read the subtle signal. Wherever they were going, Shepard did not want to go.
And if, as she had said, she was Omega... who could force her to go anywhere at all?