"Shepard, I need a driver. Want the job?"
The lieutenant looked up from where she sat soaking up the sun with her fellow survivors of the latest level of N training to see Anderson walking towards her. He'd worded it as a question not an order, but still... she'd be an idiot to turn down the chance to work with an N7 of his calibre.
"Are we talking to the airport, or a different country... Out of system?" Ok, so thinking about it the airport's pretty unlikely since he could just jump in the shuttle with the rest of us when it gets here but still...
"Out of system... Eagle Nebula. Officially unofficial N mission."
"Sure, why not. Just give me a minute to make a call. Let the missus know I'm not coming home tonight after all."
He nodded and settled against a nearby wall, pulling out his omni-tool to finalize their transport and equipment. Where they were going it was important not to be carrying Alliance gear. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop but despite her wandering a little way off to the side and keeping her voice low, he couldn't help overhearing her side of the conversation.
"Hey babe, I'm afraid I got some bad news... What? NO! Of course I passed, thank you very much!"
Anderson fought to keep the smile off his face at the indignation in the freshly graduated N4's voice as she dialed it back down to the original soft tone.
"I won't be able to make it back tonight, one of the big bosses wants me for a job... It's out of system, that's all I know so far... I don't know. If I had to guess possibly about four to six weeks... Yeah I know, sorry. Look at it this way, you get time to think of some good forfeits for when I get back... Uhh no, it's always been one forfeit per week... no you don't get one a day if it goes over four weeks... alright, alright, fine. Damn I'm going to regret ever agreeing to this aren't I? Just do me a favour and make sure they're all legal this time... Shit I think boss-man can hear me, he's smiling... No Trish, officer's don't just smile for no reason... Yeah yeah, I know, I'm not a proper officer. Look I should go... Yeah I'll be careful, I'm always careful... Hey, that was not my fault! Okay okay, I promise to be careful. I really gotta go though, love you... Yeah I'll let you know when I know... Love you too, bye."
She finally hung up the call and walked over to Anderson with a look in her eye that said 'don't you dare' but he just couldn't help it.
"Boss-man?"
"Yes Sir?" The audio response was professional and neutral sounding, but if looks could kill then it was a good thing he was already in body armour. He wasn't done yet though.
"Manage to get your permission slip signed Shepard?"
"Aww hell, I am so going to regret this aren't I... Uh, Sir."
He laughed.
"Come on, let's go. I'll fill you in once we're in transit."
...
"We're supplying weapons to batarians?" The N4 tried her hardest to keep her voice neutral, to hide the stinging accusation behind her words as she looked at the photo of their contact. Judging by Anderson's narrowed eyes she'd failed.
"No, we're supplying weapons to the abolitionists."
She stayed silent, managing to bite back her almost retort of: 'Looks a lot like a batarian to me.' She wasn't that stupid. Unfortunately she wasn't able to stop the defiant spark in her eyes in time.
"Is there something I should know Shepard?" Despite the apparent vagueness of his question it was obvious what the N7 was asking. The recent events at Torfan were on everybody's mind right now, how an Alliance officer dubbed 'The Butcher' by the media had refused to accept the batarian slavers' surrender and ordered them slaughtered. Anderson wouldn't want to risk a repeat on his watch.
She carefully weighed up her options, seriously considering telling him: 'no, no problem, everything's fine. I was just a bit surprised is all'. Or maybe just be flippant: 'Tyra T'Sansis just became the eighth highest scorer in biotiball history despite being three centuries younger than anyone else in the Top Ten'.
His deep penetrating gaze assured her he'd see right through it though, and she knew he wouldn't appreciate any attempt to deceive. She gave a soft exhale, voice quiet as she admitted:
"I'm Mindorian Sir."
He hid his reaction much better than her. Either that or she missed it during the brief second of introspection where she wondered if it was good or bad that simply naming her home planet was enough to answer such a question. At least it saved her from having to recount specifics.
"I'm sorry Shepard, but it doesn't change the mission. If you're going to have a problem with the objectives or trouble following orders on the ground I need to know now."
She shook her head but Anderson looked far from convinced.
"How much do you know about Anhur Shepard?"
"Sir? Not a lot, only what I've heard on the news. Garden world, been engaged in a civil war between slavers and abolitionists since '76."
He nodded, at least she didn't say batarian slavers.
"It's much more than that. It was founded in 2165, when the batarians still had an embassy on the Citadel. The Alliance and Hegemony were both petitioning for colonization rights in the Traverse and independent colonists from both species put forward the idea of cohabitation. It was a trial idea and in the beginning it worked. It worked right up until the moment a human so called businessman decided to legalise slavery, on paper out of deference to batarian culture but completely ignoring the part where most of the colonists left the hegemony to get away from those traditions. The civil war is being fought by two groups, the Na'hesit are pro slavery and made up of batarian traditionalists and humans. The abolitionists are likewise made up of both humans and batarian colonists. Each side also makes extensive use of mercenaries of all species. Raz is one of the leading abolitionists. On Anhur you can't work out who the good guys and the bad guys are by counting the number of eyes."
"I promise not to shoot anyone unless they're shooting at me or I'm ordered to. Good enough Sir?"
Anderson's exhale wasn't quite a sigh but it was close.
"Try to keep an open mind Shepard, a lot of people like to say 'they don't have a problem with aliens they've just never met a good one'. Well on Anhur you might just meet them."
She opened her mouth to protest; she didn't have a problem with aliens, just slavers, and it wasn't her fault most batarians were slavers.
She thought better of it. Holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"It won't be a problem."
...
Despite her assurances, Shepard couldn't help the way her skin itched as she walked through the camp. She'd never been this close to armed batarians without them trying to kill or enslave her before and she was seriously outnumbered if they tried something.
She knew the itch was purely psychological. Like how her scalp tickled when Trish talked about her colleague's daughter's school having an outbreak of head lice. Or people feeling better after taking medicine that was actually only a placebo.
That knowledge still didn't stop her from having to divert brain power into consciously making sure her hand didn't stray too close to her sidearm.
She'd been a little wary of leaving their vehicle unguarded in the compound's main car park, especially considering it contained all the military supplies they'd brought with them, but Anderson hadn't hesitated so she followed his command without complaint. He had done this before after all.
She did lock everything and set it so her omni-tool would receive an alert if anyone tried tampering with it though, that was just good old-fashioned common sense.
"Goliath, it's good to see you again!" Came the loud call from a human walking towards them in armour so scratched, battered and covered in grime that it was hard to tell what its original colour had been.
Despite the disheveled appearance Shepard could tell from his body language and the behavior of the people around them that he was a person of some importance in these parts. A batarian moved in perfect sync beside him but even with her limited experience identifying individual batarians she knew it wasn't their contact.
Snot coloured skin instead of the sandy tone with rusty patches that Raz had had in the photo. Once the duo were close enough the human spoke again, this time in a much lower voice.
"We have a problem."
"I should have known. People are only ever happy to see me when they've got a problem." Anderson replied, nodding when the human gestured for him to enter a nearby tent. "Aries wait here. Play nice."
Shepard rolled her eyes but stayed put, turning her back to the tent and sweeping her eyes across the camp, senses on constant high alert for the first hint of trouble. She tried to ignore the snot green batarian that had remained outside with her but couldn't help tensing when he moved closer.
"Relax 'Aries', orange band good, green band is your enemy."
If he were human she might have shared a smirk at the knowing emphasis he put on her call sign as he pointed at the rag tied round his arm. Instead she simply nodded to show she understood. Race wasn't the only difference among the variety of soldiers in the camp, it seemed no two armours were the same and the flash of orange cloth or paint on the arms were the only proof that they were all gathered to fight for the same cause.
"Shooting or seeing?"
She was as surprised by the batarian's continued attempt to strike up a conversation as she was confused by his words.
"Uh, what? Sorry, I don't understand."
"You carzihald." She frowned as her translator fumbled over the word while he pointed at her. "Is it because you used to fighting us or you watch batarians do bad things?"
"Both." Her voice was clipped and brusque. She didn't want this conversation and she sure as hell wasn't giving him any more information, no matter how much Anderson told her to 'play nice'. Something must have slipped through her mask though because the batarian nodded sympathetically before pointing to himself.
"My mother was a slave, am told father was an idiot. Highborn, fell in love, died liberating her. I was born free because of him." He shrugged carelessly. "Slavery's bad."
"On that we can agree."
He chuckled, picking something out of a bag and eating it before offering the bag out to the human. Shepard eyed it suspiciously.
"Only poisonous to turians," he reassured her. "You're not turian are you?"
Shepard chuckled despite herself.
"Not that I know of." She reached in and pulled out the peace offering, it reminded her of a humbug in appearance only with purple and gold stripes. She popped it in her mouth, sucking just once before spitting it out in a hurry. "Urgh! What the hell is that?"
"An acquired taste." The batarian deadpanned as the mixed species assembly of mercenaries and freedom fighters burst out laughing.
"Is that its official name?" Shepard asked, grabbing the offered drinks flask without hesitation and gulping down the cool nectar within without sparing a second thought to whether or not it was poisoned. Before he could respond Anderson's curt voice carried out the tent:
"Aries get in here!"
She passed the flask back to snotty, only then realising she didn't know his name, and hurried into what was, from the inside, easily identifiable as a temporary command centre. Maps and computer terminals littered every surface, boxes piled high in the corners but it was empty of people apart from the two men and herself. Despite requesting her presence Anderson seemed to be ignoring her, engaged in a heated though whispered debate.
"You know that's well outside my mission parameters. If the council ever found out-"
"Oh come off it Goliath, the council would flip anyway if they found out your employers were supplying us."
"Don't try threatening me Marcus, it doesn't suit you."
"I know, I'm sorry, but the situation is critical. None of my people could pull off a rescue and he knows everything! If he breaks under interrogation... Hell even if he doesn't... If word gets out morale will plummet. We can have all the weapons in the galaxy, but our cause will fail without people to use them. We can't afford to have the men lose faith."
Shepard stayed silent, simply absorbing the information both heard and implied from the conversation until Anderson finally lifted his head to look at her and provide an update.
"Mission's compromised. Raz was captured by the Na'hesit. Marcus seems to think the two of us could get him back. Thoughts?"
She managed to hide her surprise at being asked for her opinion, taking a moment to think through what she knew. The Council had been very clear when it forbade both the Alliance and Hegemony from getting involved in the independent planet's civil war.
Sure there had been rumours of the Alliance secretly supplying the abolitionists with weapons for their cause. Just as there were suspicions that it couldn't be mere coincidence that nearly every Na'hesit soldier was equipped with either a judgement pistol or terminator assault rifle, weapons only manufactured by Batarian State Arms. However there was a wealth of difference between allegations and proof.
"I take it Raz knows who pays us yes?"
Both men nodded.
Some people would say that complicated things but it actually made the decision remarkably simple. If there was even the slightest chance the batarian might talk...
She shrugged with feigned nonchalance.
"Well, I don't know how they worded it to you Goliath, but I'm pretty sure my orders were to give the supplies to Raz. If he thinks he can get out of a deal by getting himself captured he's got another thing coming. I say we drag his scrawny ass back here and make him take the guns."
...
"You sure about this Kerrik? Last chance to back out." Anderson asked the batarian as Shepard careened the VT7 exaggeratedly out of the line of fire of the abolitionist vehicles following them. Their shields kept flickering on and off and they had pre-damaged certain sections of the armour before they set off, being particularly certain to knock out their comms in the most visible way possible.
They finally saw the small Na'hesit convoy they were looking for, making sure to hold direction long enough to be noticed and for the pro-slavery group to be certain they were trying to escape the enemies behind rather than leading them into battle, before turning towards them.
The Na'hesit took the bait, three AX-9s peeling off to intercept the abolitionist vehicles who quickly turned and fled while Shepard tucked themselves safely into the rear of the convoy. It wasn't long before someone came to check on them.
"Why aren't you responding to the radio, are your ears defective human?"
"My ears! What about your ears? I've been requesting reinforcements for the past half hour." Shepard shouted.
The turian looked at her in disbelief before taking a closer look at the vehicle.
"Well there's your problem, your comms are bust."
"My comms are bust? You've got to be kidding." She followed his outstretched arm to the proof. "You can fucking see that? You can see that and you're asking why I'm not fucking responding? I was wrong, it's not your ears that are the problem, your fucking brain's defective!"
He opened his mouth to protest but she didn't give him a chance.
"Fuck it, I don't have time for this shit! Just tell me where I got to drop this shit-stain off to collect my bounty." She gestured to Kerrik trussed up like a turkey with Anderson 'guarding' him and the turian's mandibles flared in surprise.
"That's the Eight of Spears! What- How... You can leave him with me. I'll take care of arrangements."
"Sure. You got the 50,000 credits on you?"
Strangely enough he didn't. They discussed things a little longer before he gave in, telling them to see 'Taliz' when they all got back to base.
"Is she always like this?" The turian asked Anderson as he finally turned to leave. The human simply shrugged.
"No. Right now she's being nice."
"You have my sympathies."
"He don't need your gorram sympathies, he needs a new comm and some armour plating."
The turian moved on, muttering about 'females' and Shepard resealed the hatch, shutting them off from the outside world. There was silence inside for several long seconds before all three of them dissolved into laughter.
"Damn that was beautiful."
"Best decision I ever made making you spokes-merc for this little jaunt."
"The look on his face!"
...
Someone must have radioed ahead about the Eight of Spears being captured because there was a sizable crowd growing by the time they pulled into the Na'hesit stronghold.
The dash of green paint on their vehicle and armour, plus arriving amidst an official and expected convoy, was enough to see them waved straight through defenses that even the N7 would have struggled to overcome without incident. They disembarked, Anderson being deliberately rough as he frogmarched Kerrik through the crowd to where Taliz was supposed to be.
The batarian that rose to meet them had bleach-bone coloured skin and didn't even acknowledge the two humans as he scanned his omni-tool over the abolitionist. The tool pinged as it confirmed his identity and a second later a gunshot rung out.
Anderson didn't even flinch as his prisoner hit the ground but Shepard reacted instinctively, pistol out and aimed at the shooter a split second before her brain reminded her they were supposed to be undercover, were definitely surrounded and outnumbered and she better fix things now!
"You better not be trying to cheat me out my bonus. He was alive when we brought him in and I expect to be paid accordingly." She said flatly, playing the merc card to the full.
Laughter broke out among the throng, easing the tension back a notch, the batarian tilting its head slightly to the left. Shepard copied the gesture, paying close attention to the direction to make sure she signaled respect rather than insult, that would not go down well with the current audience.
"Of course. Silahra, the credit chits."
The N4 holstered her sidearm as a female batarian walked forward, it wasn't until she'd accepted the money and the alien turned away that she noticed the telltale scars of a control chip implant on the skull. She forced herself not to visibly react, hoping she was successful. If any of the Na'hesit noticed her disgust they didn't mention it.
"Alright people, show's over. Everyone back to work. Goro, patch this Kra'tash up. I don't want him dying before interrogation."
Kerrik's bleeding but not quite deceased body was lifted from the ground as the crowd dispersed, Anderson and Shepard vanishing along with them. Infiltration had been a success but now they had to wait until dark before they could launch the rescue and escape parts of their plan.
At least it would give them time to fix the damage to the VT7.
...
If life was a vid she'd be creeping between shadows as she stealthily made her way through the enemy's lair. That would be far too suspicious if she was spotted however, so instead she trusted in the green band round her arm and the mild notoriety she had gained as the merc who captured the Eight of Spears to see her through and walked confidently through the mostly empty corridors as if she owned them.
She kept her hands free, all weapons safely holstered so as not to look like a threat, but make no mistake she was heavily armed, ready for combat at a moment's notice and with not a single weapon traceable back to the Alliance.
Scimitar shotgun from Elkoss Combine the Terminus based volus weapons manufacturers, banshee assault rifle from private turian security firm Elanus Risk Control and best of all, the judgement pistol from Batarian State Arms. Say what you like about the batarian bastards, they knew how to make a good gun.
Fortunately they were less adept at electronic locks, linking them all into a single frequency that Anderson had found the open command code for earlier in the day. It was pathetically easy security, presumably relying on the vast merc army outside to keep anyone from getting in.
Still, not having to crouch down and waste several minutes hacking each door individually on her omni-tool helped with the whole 'looking like she owned the base' thing.
The Villa had ensured she could read batarian well enough to navigate by, but it wasn't much use when the Na'hesit hadn't left any handy directional signs in the corridors. Instead she relied on the intel they'd acquired, until her ears informed her she'd successfully reached the interrogation wing. The screams revealing that, along with security, the Na'hesit had skimped out on sound proofed cells.
A flanged voice indicated the presence of a turian and Shepard checked the corridor in both directions before pulling out a talon knife and inching closer to the door.
"In case you haven't noticed you're running out of eyes. Let's try again, where did you get the weapons?"
A hoarse, involuntarily shriek of pain covered the sound of her entry, taking the scene in with a glance.
Neither the batarian strapped screaming to a chair nor the one 'playing' with him noticed as she snuck behind the turian, sticking the knife between the weak point in his plates for a silent takedown just as her instructors had taught her.
The remaining inhabitants of the room still hadn't noticed her but she knew that would change if she moved towards them. The angle was wrong for her preferred 'instant kill' target but she threw the knife anyway, gaining enough of an advantage to charge across the room unimpeded and plunge her omni-blade through his top left eye.
Both hostiles down, she double checked the corridor was still clear and shut the door before turning her attention to the prisoner.
Blood and bruises littered his face and body making identification tricky. The top left eye had been disfigured by acid while where each of the right eyes should have been there were now merely empty sockets, leaving just the bottom left functioning, albeit it looking a little bloodshot.
"What's your name?" The solitary working eye fixed on her, any hope of rescue fading as he took in her armour.
"Go to hell Na'hesit scum!"
"I'm not Na'hesit, and it's the only question I want answered."
He snorted disbelievingly but answered anyway. After all his torturers knew who he was already, it was why they'd made sure he hadn't died yet.
"Raz."
"Can you walk?"
"What happened to just one question?"
"Bloody hell, first Kerrik now you. Nobody told me Anhur was a penal colony for batarian comedians." Before he could reply she triggered her comms to give Anderson an update. "Goliath, package secured but damaged. No sign of horse yet."
A double click on the comms indicated the N7 had heard but couldn't answer verbally. She started pulling out packets of medi-gel as she analyzed the battered batarian.
"Why couldn't you be a damn turian or asari? I know first aid for them." She grumbled halfheartedly as she rubbed the miracle cure across any open wounds she could see and hoped for the best. She was just releasing him from his bonds when the comms crackled back to life.
"Aries, horse is secured. Do you need help moving package? Over."
"Negative I can manage. Go get the engine running." She handed Raz a knife to hide up his sleeve, mainly because she'd hate to be unarmed in his position but didn't quite trust him with a gun, and silently hoped she wasn't about to be stabbed in the back.
"This is going to hurt." She warned before pulling him to his feet and positioning his arms behind his back although leaving them untied. "Come on. We're just a regular prisoner and escort going for a stroll."
...
"Remind me why we went for the version without a turret gun?"
Anderson was busy tending to the two batarians in the back as Shepard drove, trying to ride the fine line between maneuvering enough to avoid the worst of the enemy fire and limiting the jostling of their wounded VIP.
The explosive distraction they had prepared earlier in the day to help with their escape had taken out most of the armoury and a fair chunk of the motor pool, but those vehicles that survived the blast were quickly manned and sent after them. The headstart over their pursuers shrinking minutely each time she had to adjust course.
"Because we're supposed to look like regular mercs." He knew where this was going of course, he probably shouldn't have answered, she already knew the answer and was just being facetious.
"And who's shooting at us?"
"Mercs."
"Right, and what are they shooting at us with?"
Turret guns.
"Aries, I picked you for your driving not your lip."
"Oh don't worry Goliath, I'm providing the lip free of charge."
A wheezy chuckle escaped the batarian and Anderson couldn't help the faint smile on his lips. Usually the only people willing to banter with him under fire were First Contact era N7s, a rather select group whose number grew smaller every year.
It was rare for them to be teamed up together on a mission and he hadn't realised how much he missed it until he was paired with the youngster. Satisfied he'd done all he could for Raz, he picked up his rifle and headed for the hatch.
...
"Goliath, switch to shotgun, brace for impact and prepare to fire 7 o'clock low."
The sudden order was so calm, collected and above all sure of itself that he didn't dare question it. Not the fact that there was currently nothing on his seven, or that it was issued by a subordinate. He switched weapons and waited, the adrenaline in his veins making it seem like longer than the handful of seconds it probably actually was.
He noted how they veered slightly to the right then Shepard slammed on the brakes, not quite hard enough to stop completely, yanking the steering wheel to one side, bumping one of their overshooting pursuers off course into a second vehicle and sending them crashing into the canyon that had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere on the left.
She continued maneuvering and all of a sudden his seven o'clock was no longer empty, lining up perfectly with the narrow slit in the driving compartment of one of the AX-9s.
He took the shot. Killing the asari driver and wounding the batarian navigator beside her.
Shepard put her foot down and they were speeding away, back in the direction they'd come from, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake.
It wouldn't last of course. The Na'hesit would regroup and resume their hunt but at least they'd thinned the pack. With luck they'd enter comm range of their abolitionist allies before long and be able to call down reinforcements.
...
For the second time in as many days Shepard found herself driving into a militant camp as part of a convoy, an excited crowd gathering due to news about her passengers.
She struggled not to flinch under the congratulatory pats on the back. She knew they just wanted to show their thanks, but it was still a swarm of random, unknown batarian hands reaching out at her. She couldn't help that the contact made her uneasy, her fight or flight instinct sending adrenaline coursing through her veins. All she could do was control her reactions and hope nobody noticed.
The horde parted for Marcus who failed to hide his wince at the sight of Raz, bloody but unbowed.
"You look like shit."
"You sound like shit." Came the battered batarian's reply.
"Come, let's get you a doctor."
There was a groan. "Haven't I suffered enough?"
There were chuckles from just about every warrior within hearing distance. Some things truly transcended species.
With their mission complete the two N operatives turned back to the truck, hoping to slip away unobserved. Their plan failed, the one-eyed batarian being the one to notice their escape attempt.
"Wait! How can we ever repay you?"
The duo shared a glance, Anderson shrugged, Shepard smiled.
"Just make sure you win."
"We should probably at least give you medals or something."
"Medals, what for? We were never even here."
Raz tilted his head in the batarian gesture of respect, Kerrik replicating the action beside him, followed by large chunks of the crowd. When something similar had happened in the Na'hesit camp, Shepard had responded how she felt necessary in order to maintain her cover. This time it was genuine as she looked unflinchingly into his single remaining eye and tilted her head left.
...
Author's note: I know I know, how dare I give you a Trish-less chapter! However at some point the council's going to ask for Spectre candidates and I doubt the top of their entry requirements is going to read as: must be able to make their girlfriend smile, have a wicked sense of humour, be a great kisser and apologise profusely. No, it's much more likely to read: must be a badass, able to pull of impossible deeds with bonus points to unorthodox strategies and tactics.
Plus, back when Elysium happened without Shepard a few of you felt I was leading Nikki towards Torfan and I felt one way or another it was time for her to acknowledge those feelings/issues.
As always, let me know if there's anything in particular you like or something you felt didn't work.