Apartment hunting was hard.

Even harder when you weren't born yet, and had no valid ID. When the only money you had was what was in the wallets of would-be muggers. When you smelled like you slept in an alley, because you had. Because of your pride.

God damn pride. Too proud to go back to go sleep next to a krogan who he offended. Next to a Geth. He didn't hate aliens, not really. It was just… disappointment. In humanity, really. They dreamed of the stars, and dreamed of having a place in them. The great dreamers – Asimov, Roddenberry, Martin – They all dreamed of a galaxy where humanity met aliens, but was equal to them. Not subservient. Not the race desperately begging for crumbs from a Council that didn't care.

And now he smelled. He had no money. And crawling back? I'm an idiot, Evan thought. Still, he wasn't going to go back and beg forgiveness. Not in this state.

Fortunately, Brockton Bay appeared to be a beach town. One which had public showers. He bought clothes at one of the stands on the boardwalk, along with a small bag and flip flops, as well as soap from a small corner store.

The showers themselves were rank. He looked around, but didn't see anything to cause that smell. He sighed, and quickly undressed, leaving his belongings on a bench he could see. Geth's Javelin stuck out of his pocket. He would have to return that.

What had possessed him to take it? Was he that desperate for a kind gesture from someone?

The public showers were very fortunately empty of people. He wasn't shy, but… it was easier this way. No need to feel paranoid. He could relax, and enjoy the cold water falling over him. Or at least pretend to enjoy it, while pretending the soap covered up the scent of what he was beginning to suspect was excrement.

He'd forgotten to buy a towel. He groaned, and got dressed. Great. Damp clothes in the winter. Fortunate for him this place seemed to be temperate.

What was he going to do for money? He couldn't count on getting mugged repeatedly, even if there did seem to be a gang dedicated to white supremacy.

White supremacy. What a stupid idea. Humans were humans. No need to split them up. If anyone deserved to be robbed, it was white supremacists.

That could work. He'd need his gear, though. And a plan. And to find where they were.

He'd need help. Damn it.


The other three were at the warehouse. Mar and Kara were sitting over a computer – new, by the sticker on it, with cables extending from it to Mar's helmet. Geth was still connected to the internet. A joke about how it should get some air died before it reached Evan's lips.

"Mar… can… can I talk to you? Outside?" Evan asked.

Mar looked at Kara. "Go ahead. I'm good."

He walked out of the warehouse, and Evan followed him.

"Yes?" Mar asked. His eyes were focused on Evan's. Evan squirmed.

"I… I'm sorry. For yesterday. You didn't deserve the way I was acting." He hated this. This… grovelling.

"That it?" Mar asked.

"Yes," Evan said.

"Fine," Mar said, and walked back into the warehouse.

This next part was going to be harder. He followed Mar into the warehouse.

"Geth, here's your rifle," he said, placing the Javelin next to Geth. The light going on in the robot's eye was enough of a response. "Also, can you tell me where there's a storehouse for that white supremacist gang? Empire… something?"

"Medhall warehouse on 43 Ford street has been getting more inventory than they have been moving, and the owner of Medhall appears to be at the very least aligned with the gang Empire Eighty Eight. That would be the likeliest place." Geth moved, its light pointed directly at Evan's face. "It would be ill advised to attack it. We do not want to make waves."

"You're doing that thing where you use 'we' instead of 'I'," Evan said, smiling. He started to undress.

"No, it would be bad for us as a group," the Geth said. The armor was easy to put on, almost unfolding on to him. He put the greaves on, then started working on the chestplate.

"Nah, sounds fun," Kara said, "Beating up Nazis? Taking their stuff? You want back-up?"

"Sure," Evan said. The helmet now.

"I'll continue this later," Kara told Mar. At his glare, she continued, "It's compiling now anyway, this is two hundred years ago, computers are shit. I'll be back when it's done."

She began to undress as well, changing into her armor. Evan turned out of the warehouse. Geth stood there.

"This is a risk," It said.

"Okay," Evan answered, and started to walk out. It put its arm on Evan's chest.

"Do not do this. This is a risk you do not need to take." The Geth reared at its full height, a head above Evan. He'd destroyed bigger.

"Are you going to try to stop me?" he asked. He inhaled, drawing in energy.

"No. Please reconsider," the Geth said.

"Done. I've reconsidered." Evan pushed past it. Kara had suited up already herself, and followed him.

"Evan, you are making a mistake. Going out like this in midday is foolish. You will get captured, and we can not take stupid risks at an early stage," the robot said loudly, at him.

"Too bad," he replied softly, smiling.


In spite of being in very bulky armor, Kara moved silently and quickly, across the tops of buildings, using thrusters in her suit to leap and climb. This was good. Evan almost flew above the rooftops, biotically throwing himself across each one.

An ability he was proud of, and one he developed, was to use a biotic lash on your own armor, effectively throwing yourself. Dangerous if you were stupid about it. Evan was not stupid.

They reached the building. From the outside it was nondescript, just a small "Medhall Storage center" sign you could easily miss, and a phone number above a small door. The building itself was a large square block, almost nothing special about it. A car passed on the street nearby, but it was otherwise empty – this seemed like an industrial area that had fallen into disuse. There was a secondhand bookstore on a parallel street, and what looked like a computer warehouse. The rest seemed to be in disuse.

"Windows are high up, but they open upwards, which mean we have to get there from the bottom," Evan told Kara. "Can you get there without help?"

Kara jumped off the roof. Evan ran, and reached the edge just in time to see her flare her thrusters, jumping up from midair and grabbing the window with her fingertips. She waved to him with one hand, then pulled herself inside. Evan followed her, throwing himself up and pulling himself up after her.

They stood on a catwalk, overlooking the room. It was large, the catwalk they were on going across the room's circumference, with two ladders to the floor. The floor had pallets loaded up with boxes, some of which had "MEDHALL PHARMACEUTICALS" on them. A forklift sat in the corner of the room. There was a small partition in the corner that seemed to be an office.

One man was lying next to Kara on the catwalk, unconscious. She must have moved quickly. Still, warning him before he entered would have been nice.

Nine men were in the central hall. Eight of them seemed like normal street toughs, carrying small packages out of a parked van into neat stacks. The ninth was the first superhero Evan had ever seen.

Dressed in a black v-necked breastplate, a blood-red shirts, and black slacks, along with a domino mask, the man looked… stupid. Like a child dressed as a vampire. The domino mask on his face didn't help matters. Made sense, though, for a supervillain. Still, slightly disappointing. Evan poked Kara's shoulder, and she turned to him. He pointed at the man, and tilted his hand. Who is he?

She shrugged, an impressive feat considering the amount of technology on her shoulders.

So the two of them against nine people, one of which had superpowers they weren't aware of.

How do you do this? He flared his biotics, readying himself to unleash a singularity.

Kara pulled out her rifle – a Harrier. Its white clashed pretty badly with the black and red lines of her armor. All it took was for one of these people to look up, and it would be over. What was she thinking?

Oh.

She fired, keeping her finger on the trigger until the thermal clip overheated. And aiming – you can't aim perfectly with a Harrier, but fairly well. Well enough to hit every single one of them, starting with the superhero, and drop them. Four of them had managed to look up in surprise before three fell. The last stood, and started fumbling for his gun. A small rocket flew out of Kara's shoulder pad, and the man gaped dumbly at a hole in his chest before falling down. She slid down a ladder, and looked over her work.

Evan took a second to breathe, and slid down the ladder.

"What the fuck?" he shouted at her.

"What?" she said, staring at the last man.

"Why did you kill them all like that? What the fuck? We were supposed to knock them out, or incapacitate them, and then rob them!" he said. He stormed up to her. "Do you realize what it means when you take out someone powerful in a gang? When you rob a gang, it's part of the game. When you kill a senior member, you're fucking with them directly. This can get us killed!"

She wasn't listening. He took a step, grabbed her shoulder, and pulled her towards him. She spun, and he felt a pressure from the bottom of his helmet.

"You know what I'm holding to your head? It's my Harrier. Your side made them, you should be familiar with them. They're great weapons. Now, Cerberus helmets, like the one you have? They're a nice round design, so they disperse kinetic impacts very well. Except for the bottom. The bottom is a weak spot. A bullet here? Will go through your head. Are you listening to me?" He nodded. "Good. Now, as far as I'm concerned, you betrayed us the second you put on that uniform. A bullet to the head would be very fitting, considering I don't have any rope. And I don't think the other two are going to care about it if I tell them you died fighting some supervillain here. Mar's itching to do it himself, he'll just leave more of a mess. So when you tell me off? Think again."

The pressure lifted. She turned away. "I think there are duffel bags in the van, and money inside some of these boxes. Fill them up, will you? I think I saw coffee in the office. You want some? No? Okay."

He stared at the dead for a second, then took a deep breath. He could throw a singularity at her – no, her armor could counteract it. It wouldn't stop a lash, though she's probably react fast enough to fire back at him. Charge, and while she was disoriented, use an electric slash to shut her suit's systems down?

No. He knew N7s soldiers. They didn't get disoriented. They didn't get overwhelmed. This wasn't a fight he would be sure to win. This could end up with both of them dead.

He sighed. The duffel bags in the van were black, and filled with weapons. He poured them on the ground. They didn't need them. He walked to the boxes.

Where do I begin?

Kara had left, taking one of the duffel bags. He took the other. She didn't wait for him to follow, and he didn't. He changed into spare clothes that were in the van – probably belonged to the supervillain.


It surprised him how easy it was, in this city, to find a furnished apartment where the rent was in cash, and didn't require identification, once he actually had money. Upon seeing his skin color, his new landlord warned him not to walk around at night in this neighborhood, at least not before paying the next month's rent. There was a nearby bookstore, and he got some of the bestsellers. A thriller about the conspiracy behind the Protectorate, a young adult book about a girl and her goblin friends, and some anti-racist's memoir about how she used to be a racist.

It would be nice to shut some of it away. To relax in a book. Lose himself a little.

He'd take it easy for the next few days. He'd earned it.