|| Sunrise Gray ||


11.


Stepping down the stairs onto the deck of the gleaming Presidium, Braith follows the signs with her crewmates to the nearest bar, having finished a restock of the ship and now taking a few hours to themselves before return to duty…Braith could use a shot. Parting with some of her crewmates, a few others accompany her to a lift they take down to the lower levels. "We go to old Dark Star we can probably get a few rounds on the house," Joker informs them as Braith turns the corner of the lift with him, stepping out into the darker Wards with Jenkins and Kaidan.

"You sweet on a bartender, Joker," Braith pushes her hair from her eyes.

"No," he shakes his head, "…she just feels bad for me, Commander." He and Braith chuckle. The markets bustle loudly with business on her right as they pass this area into a wide alley, moving along in dress-down civies of the Alliance.

Braith checks her left shoulder and sees Kaidan behind it, "…Feel good to be off the Normandy, Alenko?"

"Is it that obvious, Shepard?" They smile at each other. Braith turns and enters the bar ahead of everyone.

"A round of your hardest," Braith says to the bartender, then moves out of the way for Joker.

"Is Cindi here?"

"She's in the back."

"Tell her Joker's asking for her."

The bartender calls over his shoulder, "…Cindi!" He then passes them a filled round of shots.


The evening is spent uneventfully at the Dark Star. Braith leans against a table-bar watching the crowd while Jenkins and Alenko talk, Joker with the bartender named Cindi who's hooked them up. Among the crowd dancing just a few steps beyond, she sees a group of asaris dancing together…She feels her face set in a grimace. Braith turns her eyes down. Matthias

"Mind if I buy you a drink."

She looks up and smiles at the turian, "…All set." Suddenly frowning at him, "…Wait."

"Remember me," Nihlus Kryik looks back.

"I met you in Gagarin," Braith chuckles. She hears a harsh snap from his throat. Another turian bartender delivers two drinks as Nihlus nods. Braith turns to face him and asks, "…How did you know who I was after so many years."

"Been keeping an eye to the news, among other sources," Nihlus replies, his yellow eyes tilting to the drink bottle placed under his long neck. "Seen any sunsets lately." She swallows her waiting shot. "Relax, Red," Nihlus flicks partly his mandibles, turning his head towards her, the black fringe of horns pointing away, "…I'm not someone you have any reason to be afraid of."

"What do you want," she picks up another glass and places it down in front of his talons on the table, "…You obviously have something you want to tell."

"You have talents, Commander Shepard," he switches to her formal title, as if that might ease her discomfort—it only makes her more vulnerable…Perhaps he knows it and uses it for this purpose too, "…You know what the Spectres are?" He leans closer, the assailing scent of amines conjuring an unforgettable blend with the sweet smell of alcohol from his breath. In addition to the scales and plates, the turian's scent strengthens her awareness of the alienness between them.

"I do, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, Council-denied-never-the-less-funded, transparent as the day is gone," she looks at him.

"You not like Spectres?"

"I haven't met one yet to not like them."

"Now you have…" His mandibles are still. Braith looks at his talons, then down to the arms on his bodysuit of armor. He moves swiftly and quietly, she can tell by the way he only managed to sidle up to her, passed the others who had only now noticed a staggeringly tall and thickly-armored turian speaking with Braith at the table-bar. She raises her hand. The others stop their own from going to their sidearms and moving to intervene. "Thank you," Nihlus trills delicately as he picks up the shot glass she placed before him, opens his fangs and drinks the liquid burn.

Braith drops her arm to her side. Her gray eyes flash with the play of lights moving in their direction and dancing away, back to the dance floor, "…What do you want, Spectre, you still haven't shared why you're haunting me in Dark Star."

He sets down the glass, nods to the bartender, and turns, leaning his back and the shell of his armor against the edge of the high table, "…I came to ask if you'd be interested in serving the Council, Commander Shepard," his sharp talons tick against the projecting holster case of a very large firearm.

Braith's eyes don't miss the heavy deterrent against messing with him, nor the Talon-style knife in his lower leg's lateral sheath, "…Why are you asking me, a human…Council looks down on us…Just look at the posts online by the human ambassador."

The eyes turn as the head does to look her point-blank, "…They're reconsidering…Based on your…accomplishments." Braith looks at Kaidan, Jenkins, and Joker, all three watching her and the turian with that wariness.

"How long have they been 'reconsidering' for."

"Since the first day."

"The first day…"

"The first day you moved against Dahlia Dantius," he opens his mandibles slightly for a pause of dramatic wait, "…You got our attention, and we've been following."

"Do I have a choice in the matter of your previous question about recruitment," her eyes are trained to hide any evidence of her apprehension. His echoing voice carries with it what she and fellow crew have come to recognize as the tone of approbation among the turian.

"Glad to see I was right about you…You get where we're heading before I have to say it. No."