"You cannot do this, Earth-clan! I will…have you arrested for assault! This is unacceptable! Release me at once!"
The volus managed to sound indignant, furious, and terrified, all at once. His right arm clasped firmly in Shepard's unforgiving grip, Pitne For was desperately trying to dig in his heels, to no avail. Shepard, who had man-handled far stronger and more determined individuals than the volus merchant, barely lost a pace as she dragged him along like a parent with a squat toddler that didn't want to see the dentist.
Several ISS officers stood up at the commotion as the display entered, Pitne's shouts switching from ordering Shepard to release him, to ignoble demands that the officers 'arrest this crazy Earth-clan!'
Detective Anaya, a dark blue asari, rose from behind one of the desks, eyebrows lifted at the sight as she folded her arms. Behind her, seated in a waiting chair like any queen upon a throne, the Justicar Samara merely watched with hooded grey eyes.
"What's all this?" Anaya asked, glancing from Shepard to Miranda and Zaeed, who lingered just within the office doorway.
"This Earth-clan has assaulted me!" Pitne For squawked indignantly. "I demand you arrest her!"
Shepard, who had a pair of data pads in her free hand, passed one to Anaya. "Eclipse manifest," she explained as the detective looked at it. "There's enough red sand in that warehouse to make a goddamn beach, not to mention several crates of Minagen X-3 as well. And guess who they got it from?"
"Lies! All lies!" the volus tried to tug away again, to no avail.
"Pitne, you've been a very busy volus," Anaya smirked as she read the manifest, then nodded to two of her compatriots. "Red sand's not illegal on Ilium but I'm betting you don't have the proper sales and release permits for this amount of powder, and Minagen…that's a different song my friend. We're going to have to have a serious discussion about this."
The officers came forward, one unsnapping bind-cuffs from his waist. The volus seemed to bounce in one spot as he hopped up and down frantically, bellowing his accusations.
"Framed! I was framed! This Earth-clan has falsified those records! I am nothing more than an innocent merchant! I want her arrested!"
"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Anaya said sarcastically, watching as the volus was cuffed and taken away, still barking his demands and threats.
"I knew he was dirty," Anaya said, shaking her head. "Thanks, Commander. I don't suppose you found anything to help the Justicar?"
The detective's concern over having Samara in her offices was clear in her voice. Stepping past her toward the Justicar, Shepard could feel her shoulders stiffen as the woman rose.
An N7 marine, veteran of more combat scenarios than she could count, Shepard was not easily intimidated by anyone. She'd faced down a thresher maw, went head to head with a vicious yahg, got body-slammed by a half-ton krogan boy…and those events she'd describe as simple day-to-day.
Yet, there was something about this asari Justicar that did just that…intimidated her. The woman was taller than Shepard, topping her by at least four inches, but it wasn't that. If mere superior height could do it, then Shepard would have been intimidated by Miranda, Garrus, Jacob, Grunt and dozens of others. In fact, the only three people on the ship that Shepard could think of that were of even height or shorter than she was, were Kelly, Kasumi, and Jack. Even Gabriella had a few centimeters on her.
Perhaps then it was her sheer force of age, the idea that she'd experienced centuries before Shepard had even been born. Or maybe it was her biotic power, an aura of which seemed to surround her even when she was not using it, an invisible cape of raw energy that lifted the fine hairs on the back of Shepard's neck.
Whatever the cause, intimidation was not a sensation that Shepard was used to, or comfortable with, and she disliked that this woman roused it in her.
"I have the name of the ship," she said, offering the Justicar the second data pad. As the woman took and perused it, Shepard unconsciously went into parade rest, a stance usually reserved for superior officers after they had told her to be at ease.
"This is precisely what I need, Commander," the Justicar said. "I am…impressed, that you were able to attain it so swiftly."
"Get the job done, that's our motto," Zaeed piped up from near the door.
The Justicar didn't even glance at him, her gaze still on Shepard's face. "Very well. You have kept your end of the bargain. I will join your cause, Shepard. I must swear an oath to you, so I will never have to choose between your orders and the Code."
Oath? Shepard blinked, stepping back a pace as the asari lowered to one knee in front of her. She could feel every set of eyes in the office staring at them.
She knew very little of Justicars or this Code of theirs. The dossier had been vague, Miranda herself only able to offer slightly more insight. The woman supplicating herself at Shepard's feet only made her feel even more intimidated, oddly, and she could only watch dumbly as Samara spoke.
"By the Code I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices. Your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my Code."
She flared with biotic energy as she fell silent, the charge once again seeming to lift the hair on the back of Shepard's neck like a wash of static electricity.
What do I say? Am I supposed to say something? Thank you, maybe?
As Samara rose to her feet again, Shepard inclined her head slightly, clearing her throat. "I…I am honored," she managed.
"I must warn you, Shepard," Samara said evenly. "I will obey you in all things until this mission is complete, however once it is done, I may have to kill you if you ask me to do anything unjust or dishonorable."
Good glory fuck, what did I just get into?
"Understood," she managed to say. "It's good to have you aboard. And if you need any more assistance with your own mission I would be happy to-"
"That will not be necessary," Samara replied. "I will gather my things and retire to your ship. I have spent many days on my feet and require rest and nourishment."
"Oh, absolutely. It's the Normandy, we're at docking slip 147, not too far from here."
"Understood. I will see you aboard."
Shepard watched her as she walked out of the ISS offices, before heading over to her companions. Miranda looked both surprised and concerned.
"What was that all about?" she asked.
"I've got to find out more about this Justicar Code," Shepard replied with a shake of her head as they stepped out of ISS. Reaching up, she hit her ear-bud.
"Joker, this is Shepard. The Justicar is coming aboard soon. Have Kelly arrange her a berth and…some food. Make sure Rupert does his best to not make it taste like last year's leftovers."
{Understood Commander,} Joker replied. {I was just about to contact you as well. We got notification that one assassin you were looking for, the drell? Well, seems he's on Ilium, too. There's an ISS contact named Seryna that may have more intel on his movements.}
"ISS?" Shepard repeated, pausing. "All right, Joker. We'll get in touch with her, see what's what. In the meantime make our newest guest feel at home. And…try not to do anything…unjust-y."
{Un…just-y?}
She smirked. "Shepard out."
"Are we going back to ISS?" Miranda asked, as Shepard turned back toward the offices they'd just left.
"Joker got a lead on Thane Krios. Apparently he's here and there's some ISS officer that may be able to point us in the right direction. We don't snag him now we may never get another chance."
As they re-entered the offices it was clear the fluster regarding the Justicar and what had occurred had not yet died down. Looking surprised as she caught sight of them again, Anaya headed their direction.
"Commander? Forget something?"
"Sorry to bother you again," Shepard told her. "Do you have an officer named Seryna? I need to speak with her."
"She's a communications and dispatch officer. She's in the center right through there," Anaya pointed at a door. "Should be third station on the left."
"Thank you."
Though the center through the door that Anaya had indicated had enough stations for easily two dozen officers, there were only two in evidence. One at the far end of the room, and one at the station that the detective had indicated. As Shepard approached, the asari there glanced up.
"Help you?"
"Are you Seryna?" Shepard asked. "I heard you might have some information on an assassin I'm looking for. Krios?"
Putting her station on hold, the woman nodded and stood up, directing Shepard a bit further away from her co-worker. "Yeah, he's on a job. Before I tell you anything, please promise me you're not gonna stop him."
"From taking out a mark?"
"Yeah, he's got my former boss in his sights. Real nasty bitch. I got some dirt on her a while back. Found out she'd extorted some money and shifted some funds in order to pay someone to take out her sister. Seems dear old sis was doing some slaving out in the Terminus and there was a risk her mud was going to get all over my boss's skirt, so-"
Shepard's eyes narrowed as a nagging little memory suddenly surfaced. "Wait a moment…your former boss? Is her name Dantius?"
Seryna blinked, then smirked. "Yeah, Nassana Dantius. And I can see by the look on your face, you're not that fond of her either."
"Yeah, you could say she and I have some unfinished business," Shepard replied angrily. She didn't tell Seryna that she was the one that Dantius had paid to take out her sister. It was a shit deal, a lie from the very start. Shepard was no one's tool or hired thug, and Dantius had made her just that.
"Good, then this'll be better than I'd hoped," Seryna told her. "Krios is going to try and hit her tonight at Dantius Towers. I can take you to them if you want, but you'll have to get to him on your own. Man's a shadow's shadow, so it won't be easy. You want my opinion, don't even bother looking. Just head for Nassana and he'll show up, sooner or later."
"Ori, I want a full weapons and automated systems analysis within the hour, ok? If anything needs fixed or tweaking I want to know about it as soon as possible. Big guy, let Ori work and get your handsome ass over here."
The quiet Broker ship had turned into controlled chaos. More Thanatos troops had been ferried down, and it seemed every time Liara turned her head there was a new face. Only one in particular, however, had her full attention.
Sydney Rasler, head of Thanatos, former Marine survival specialist and N7 trainer…and old friend to Del Shepard.
No, not friend. They were more than that…and that is what troubles you.
Liara had not been lying when she'd told Shepard she was not jealous of her memories of Rasler. Liara was inexperienced but not completely naïve. It would have been foolish to assume that Shepard had never been involved with anyone before her. She was, after all, not a shy little archaeologist as Liara was. She did keep herself closed off from others a great deal, and it was rare for her to truly open herself emotionally to anyone, but she was not shy, not inexperienced. Clearly, this Rasler had been one of those elite few she'd let see the real her, and Liara found it was two quite different things…to be confronted with the memory of an old flame years past, and to be face to face with the woman herself.
She found that she kept comparing Rasler to herself, and continually had to force herself to stop. It was not an easy task. They seemed to be such opposites, and the more she thought about it the more it seemed that Rasler was actually a more suitable mate for Shepard than she was.
Rasler was a marine, strong and confident, like Del was. She was human, a soldier, as Del was. They had the same type of drive, determination. Aesthetically, Rasler was very lovely, with pleasing features, physically strong and yet with a distinct grace to her.
On every measure, Liara felt as if she fell short. Why would Shepard even care about a shy little asari doctor like her, when compared to this strong, self-confident human woman?
Stop it. Shepard loves you.
Does she? She has never said the words.
Neither have you…where she can actually hear them. You know her heart, Liara. She is not so fickle as all that. Rasler was out of her life long before she met you. You are the one she cares about now, and you know it.
Her mental argument was interrupted when Rasler called out to the slender redhead whose name was apparently Ori, and the rather large man standing beside her.
As the fellow approached, Liara unconsciously stiffened. He seemed to be a krogan in human form, if such a thing were possible. He was huge, not only in height but in width, and Liara could imagine him turning sideways to pass through most normal doorways. His build was all soldier, lousy with muscle. His hands looked like he could crush her skull without effort.
Despite Rasler's comment, he was not a handsome fellow. His face was craggy and worn by life and harsh elements. His broad, flat nose had been broken so many times it had become a shapeless lump, and there was a gold ring through his septum. He'd shaved his iron gray hair so close that wide slabs of his scalp were visible through the bristles.
His left ear was missing in a mass of gnarled scar tissue that extended down his neck and crossed his throat. As he stopped at Rasler's side and looked down at Liara, she felt she would be crushed merely by the weight of his gaze.
"Liara, this is Wilcher, my second-in-command," Rasler introduced. The big guy offered his hand, and trying not to seem hesitant, she reached out and took it. Her slim blue fingers were lost in his mammoth palm and for a moment she could imagine him crushing them, snapping the bones like twigs by mere accident of too much pressure.
Of course, that didn't happen. His grip was oddly gentle, his brown eyes smiling as he bobbed his head toward her, his voice gravelly and distorted but kind enough. "My pleasure, ma'am."
"P-please, call me Liara," she told him as he released her hand.
"Good luck with that," Rasler smirked. "Fucker still calls me 'ma'am', even after I broke his nose twice."
Ignoring her, Wilcher spoke to Liara. "So, you're a friend of Shepard's? Bet we got some good stories we can swap."
"You know Shepard?" Liara asked.
"I was her commanding officer for two years. She was reassigned about four months before that mess at Torfan," he replied. "I got her right out of training. Like a bottle of lightning, that one. Wish I'd had her at Akuze."
"Wilcher's unit was killed by a maw attack on Akuze," Rasler told her. "Only he and Ori survived."
"That's why I have my devastating good looks," he grinned, tapping the scar tissue where his ear should have been. "Anyway, I'm sure we'll have a chance to talk later. It was nice meeting you, ma'am. I'd best get back to work."
"He's a good guy," Sydney commented as he walked away. "Looks scary as all fuck, I'll grant you that, but he's a serious softie under all of that. Don't get me wrong, the man can tear apart varren with his earlobes, but he's got a good heart."
"That is…an interesting image," Liara replied.
Rasler grinned, folding her arms. She'd removed her hard-suit shortly after arriving, and the clothes beneath had the cut of a uniform, very similar to the Alliance only in black, white and red instead of blue, gray and gold. That skull and odd bladed weapon were patched on both sleeves, her tattooed forearms left bare.
Glancing around at all the bustle again, Liara brooded with thought a moment.
You spent two years pretending to be strong and confident. What makes this any different? Talk to her. Ask her.
"I…appreciate everything that you and Thanatos are doing for me," Liara finally ventured, drawing herself up to her full height, which was still noticeably at least an inch shorter than the human woman before her.
Rasler shook her head. "Del wants you safe."
Liara nodded a little. "You…said she had saved your life?"
"Mmhmm," Rasler hummed, nodded, then narrowed her eyes at Liara slightly. "Tell you what. I can see a dozen different questions on your face and I have to admit, I got a few myself. Wilcher's got all this in hand. If you got a bit, why don't we find a place to park and talk for a little while?"
"I would like that," Liara admitted. "Feron is overseeing anything that needs immediate attention. I can…spare some time. Doubtless you are hungry?"
"MRE is fine with me," Rasler told her. "And a good beer, if you have some."
"I have not had a chance to take full inventory of the galley yet but…I believe we can find something suitable. It is just this way."
Liara led the way to the small ship's galley. There was beer, it turned out…courtesy of the mercs who had formerly provided security for the Broker. Liara selected a boba tea for herself, and the two women took over a table in the empty dining area.
"Ah…not the best beer I've ever had but it'll more than do," Rasler smiled after taking a swallow of the brew in her hand. "So…you wanted to know how Shepard saved my life."
"If you would care to share…" Liara nodded.
Rasler shrugged, cracking open the seal on the MRE she'd scrounged up. "I was a Specialist at the time, doing survivalist training exercises for the N7 recruits. We were on a transport. Shepard, me piloting, and this whiny little pissant trainee named Hawkins. You ever heard of a group called God's Planet?"
When Liara shook her head, Rasler gestured with her fork a little. "Crazy bunch. Religious zealots of the worst kind, the psycho kind. Their whole philosophy was that human beings weren't meant to go out into space at all…that God had put us on Earth because that's where He wanted us, and that leaving, even to go to the moon, was blasphemy at its finest. And of course, because God is love and patience and understanding, they had to express their displeasure by blowing shit up and killing people."
"That is horrible!"
"Like I said, psychos," she replied with a nod. "So, they'd been making themselves a nuisance, trying to infiltrate military space operations, protesting outside of civilian launches, that sort of thing. They'd taken out a small merchant shuttle heading for one of the colonies…killed four people. That made headlines for a while. Anyway, so we three are on this transport shuttle heading back from…one exercise or another, I don't even recall. And these Planet zealots had made a neat little nest for themselves on our flight path…them and the shiny new missile launcher they'd secured from some black market down south."
"They took down the shuttle?"
"Rocket right to the engine," Sydney nodded. "Centimeters off the eezo core. Had they been just a hair more on the ball, we'd have all blown to dust in a nanosecond and I wouldn't be here talking to you. Instead, engines went out, control went out. We were flying over the coastline and I barely managed to keep the thing from plastering into a cliffside, and instead managed to drop us in the drink. Don't recall a damn thing after hitting the water until I was on the shore, Shepard slapping the hell out of my face."
She smirked a little, shaking her head. "Everything got told to me later. Shuttle hit the water half a mile offshore, impact hard enough to breach the hull. We were flooding fast, I was out for the count. Major laceration with concussion, two broken ribs, four fingers, pelvis, left foot. Shep had a busted leg and nose. And that damn Hawkins…what's he get? Not a goddamn thing. He wasn't even bruised. How's that for luck?"
She took a draught of her beer, licking her lips slightly. "Hawkins manages to free himself, and then being the paragon of courage and good soldierly conduct he was, the fucker saves himself. Not even a look toward Del and me, just wormed his way out of the breech and lit off toward shore."
"This was a marine?" Liara asked, shocked.
"Oh, trust me. He wasn't a marine for very long after that. Dishonorable discharge for cowardice and abandonment in the line of duty. Bastard. Anyway, Del managed to cut herself loose of her restraints, cuts me loose as well, then gets us both out just as the shuttle completely swamps. Swam half a mile in frigid Atlantic waters with a goddamn busted leg, hauling me the whole way. She got a lovely case of pneumonia for her trouble, too. If it hadn't been for her, I would have drown in that shuttle instead of getting this lovely scar," she touched the split over her eyebrow," and Hawkins would be doing time for manslaughter, not just off trying to peddle second-hand omni-tool parts out in the Terminus."
"What happened to the terrorists?"
"Oh, there were some raids, a few arrests. Eventually the Planeters were broken up, disbanded. Some were absorbed into Terra Firma, which is just a whole different type of crazy, but at least they don't blow shit up."
She took another swallow of her beer, watching Liara as she silently contemplated her boba tea. Then she inclined her head, smirking a little. "Her saving my life isn't really what you wanted to ask about, is it?" she asked.
When Liara looked up at her, surprised, Rasler set her bottle and MRE tray aside, folding her hands on the table as she looked intently at the asari, speaking matter-of-factly.
"We were involved for about eighteen months, on and off," she stated. "Started shortly after she saved my life, ended a dozen times before it was really through. She's a good woman, Liara. A good soldier, a good marine, but I'm sure I haven't got to tell you- she has some serious weight on her shoulders. She wasn't ready to let that shit go and to be honest…I wasn't the right one to help her do it. She put me on a pedestal I didn't exactly earn and…we just weren't right for each other. We both knew that pretty quick but I guess it was just hard to really admit it. You two…got a thing going? Is that it? You're worried about the old girlfriend coming back? Don't be. That song's been sung and there isn't going to be an encore."
"I…yes, of course. I know you are right. I know her better than that," Liara admitted. "She just…she admired you a great deal, and then…"
"And then I just showed up here, out of the blue," Rasler finished, and nodded. "I understand. Truth be told, I have no idea what it is she admires about me. I mean, the woman came back from the dead, if rumor can be believed. That's a really hard one to top, you know?"
"The rumor is true," Liara affirmed.
"No shit?"
"It is," she smiled. "I will say, I admired Commander Shepard from the moment I met her. Of course, she was saving my life at the time. When she went after a thresher maw on foot, however-"
"Wait a second. She took on a thresher maw? On foot?"
"She did indeed," Liara nodded. Beer and food forgotten, Sydney sat forward, eyes lighting a little.
"Ok, this one I have got to hear…"
Shepard stood in the deepening dark of the Ilium twilight, daylight slowly being overtaken by the bright neon and holographic displays of the great city. Seryna had dropped them off at the foot of the Dantius Towers due to anti-craft weaponry at the summit…an idea which just made Shepard scratch her head.
Isn't that a clue that you're doing something wrong? When you look at your commercial building blueprints and think, 'hmm…atrium, pool deck, cafeteria…you know what would make this perfect? Some really big guns!'
Then again, Nassana hadn't struck Shepard as the kind of person who made friends nearly as easily as she made very bad enemies. Perhaps the anti-craft guns weren't a bad move after all.
As they approached the great glass lobby doors of Tower One, muffled pops suddenly sounded from within. Instantly Shepard recognized the sounds as gunfire, drawing her own weapon as she ran forward, blinking at the sight that unfolded past the glass.
Two salarian civvies were running across the lobby, a FENRIS and a couple of security mercs in full hard-suits in pursuit. The salarians were clearly terrified, and apparently unarmed. Even as Shepard took the sight in, the mercs opened fire. Bullets tore through the back of the rearmost salarian, green blood flying in thick arcs as the man stumbled and collapsed.
"Fuck me!" Shepard snarled, jerking her rifle up to her shoulder.
The glass doors erupted with a boom, collapsing in a waterfall of shards as fire licked from the end of Shepard's gun. Zaeed ran past her, erasing what was left of the interior door with a blast from his shotgun as the FENRIS turned in its course toward them. Biotics engulfed it, sending it slamming hard enough into the wall to crumple its limbs, killing it in a whine of dying mechanics and an arc of electricity.
Shepard drew a bead on the mercs even as they recoiled, dropping the first one as she strode forward, boots crunching in shattered glass. The second merc turned to run the other way, and got a back full of Zaeed's shotgun, a hard enough blast to wipe out his shields. A quick biotic trip from Miranda, another few spits from the end of Shepard's rifle, and he was out of business.
Clearing the lobby quickly, Shepard knelt down at the fallen salarian's side, lightly touching his neck. The muscles in her jaw flexed and she shook her head, before straightening.
"The other one went this way," Zaeed gestured, indicating a blood trail.
They found the second salarian slumped by a side door, his hand plastered to his side, emerald blood leaking from between his fingers. When he saw them his eyes went wide, and he tried to crawl back against the wall.
"P-Please, I'll leave…please don't hurt me," he begged.
"No one's going to hurt you," Shepard reassured, shipping her rifle so it didn't seem like a threat, already digging in her pouch for a medi-gel pack. As the salarian sagged, half propped on the wall, Shepard crouched in front of him, already snapping the pack open.
"What happened? Why were they shooting at you?" Miranda asked. The man blinked, clearly in shock both emotional and physical.
"I…I don't know. They told us to leave and then just started shooting. Didn't give us any time. Some were jumping out of the windows to get away from the dogs…"
"The FENRIS?" Shepard asked gently, carefully shifting his hand and slathering his wound with the medi-gel to seal it and stop the bleeding. She wasn't a doctor but she'd seen enough gunshots in her time to know he'd probably survive. It looked like it had caught mostly muscle, and with the bleeding halted he wasn't in danger of dying in the next few minutes.
"Yes…I…they're shooting at everyone. Nassana ordered them-"
"That's enough," Shepard said quietly, finishing with his wound. "You have your omni-tool?"
"Y-yes…"
"Use it to call some rescue workers in," she told him. "Stay put until they get here, try not to move too much."
"What if the guards come back?" he asked.
"I'll take care of the guards," she said, anger in her voice but hardly directed at him. "And I'm heading up to pay Ms. Dantius a visit. I'll clear this place out floor by goddamn floor if I have to. You just stay here and get help on the way, all right?"
"Th-thank you."
"You really got a soft spot for civvies, don't you?" Zaeed asked after they'd left the salarian, heading deeper into the building.
"You telling me that shooting unarmed people in the back is your cup of tea, Massani?" Shepard asked pointedly. The air between them was weighty with static a moment. They both knew the answer to that question. Zaeed had been willing to let an entire refinery's worth of civilians burn to death over his quest for vengeance.
It was still a subject of contention between the two of them, and Massani knew better than to actually answer that question honestly. Fortunately, Shepard didn't press it, looking away from him before gesturing at the nearest elevator bank.
"Most of the elevators look locked down, at least on this level. We're going to have to rely on the stairs."
"How many floors is it again?" Miranda asked.
"Few hundred or so. Afternoon stroll back in boot," Shepard said, giving her a cheeky grin. "Don't worry, I doubt the lifts are locked down for every floor. If Nassana has her security sweeping the building then she'll want to keep them mobile. For now, it's the stairs…and keep your ears open for more guards or civvies."
"What about the assassin?"
"If he's any good, then we're not going to see hide or hair of him," Shepard replied. "C'mon. Let's move."
By the time they were halfway up the tower they'd found two more groups of salarian civilians, hiding from the guards and terrified. One managed to shove a pistol into Shepard's face a breath before he fainted dead-away. His brother, crouched over him and fanning his face, apologized. Shepard relieved him of the pistol and directed the small group downstairs.
The lift on this particular floor worked, but only took them up about ten flights before locking down. As they emerged from it, they spotted a single guard. He was pacing back and forth in front of one of the huge plate glass windows that lined all the outer walls. His helmeted head was down, but they could hear him as he spoke through his suit radio connection.
"Don't worry, I got it covered. He's not getting past here. I know what I'm doing. No. I'm telling you, it's secure. No one is getting past us. It's all about instincts. Mine are honed to a fine edge. Seriously. I can hear a fucking mouse fart from a mile away. Ain't nobody stands a chance up here. Ok. Sure. One hour."
The whole time he was talking and pacing, Shepard, Miranda and Zaeed were walking across the room toward him. When he mentioned hearing a mouse fart from a mile away, they were less than five yards from the man, and Zaeed gave Shepard an disbelieving look. Shepard smirked, drawing her pistol. The moment the guard was off his radio, she ratcheted in a new heat sink and planted the muzzle against his helmet.
"Turn around, nice and slow," she ordered.
"Fuck," the guard mumbled, slowly turning with his hands up.
"Fucking mouse fart, was that it?" Zaeed asked sarcastically. "Instincts honed to a fine edge?"
"Fuck you," the man said tiredly.
With both Miranda and Zaeed covering him, Shepard lowered her pistol and reholstered it. "So, Mr. Instincts…perhaps you can tell me where the assassin is."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said stubbornly, folding his arms.
"Oh, I think you do," she said. "I think your boss caught wind that someone was coming after her pretty little tuzi tun and did a little bit of a panic dance. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Toozee…what?" he asked. "Look, lady…just take your friends and piss off. I'm not telling you shit, ok? I got twenty guys right in the next room. You open fire on me and they'll be on your heads before you can say 'oops'."
"That so?" Shepard asked. She stepped closer, moving toe to toe with the guard. Nervous but trying to act nonchalant, the man stepped back a pace, closer to the window as he folded his arms.
"That's so," he replied coolly.
"You and your men have been gunning down civilians," she said in a low voice, her dark brown eyes glimmering with mayhem. "Shooting unarmed workers in the back."
"Hey, we do what we're told," he retorted. "We warned those fucking frog-eyes. It's not our fault if they move too slow."
Shepard's glare burned a moment, before she took half a step back. Mistaking the gesture for withdrawal, he straightened a little, smirking behind his face-plate.
Whipping her knee up to her chest, Shepard's boot planted in his chest-plate with force, sending him reeling backward. Glass shattered and the merc let out a single cry of startlement as he plummeted out into the night air, tumbling over a hundred stories to his death.
Leaning a little, Shepard looked down into the darkness, at the street lit so far below, the shape of the guard's body all but invisible from this height.
"Oops."