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Ugh, my head.
Shepard rolled onto her back, the soft sheets on the bed a welcome comfort compared to the Alliance standard she had gotten used to over the years. Her hand blindly searched the covers for a pillow to cover her eyes. She knocked a pillow off the bed in the process that fell and landed on the floor opposite her.
The floor groaned on impact.
She sat up with a start, moving so fast she felt her headache throb with the motion. Shepard patted herself and the bedside table down in search for her gun to no avail. She settled for the bedside lamp.
Quietly, she moved towards whoever or whatever was on the other side of the room. Let’s hope it’s not the reason I can’t find my gun.
As she moved, the figure slowly revealed itself. It was hard to see what was under the piles of sheets and linens, so Shepard raised her electric weapon and prepared to strike.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she commanded.
The large mound of blankets rolled over with another unceremonious groan. The movement shifted just enough to reveal an unmistakably turian visage.
“I will not ask again!”
She raised the lamp higher, but just before she swung, the remaining sheets spilled off of the turian to reveal the one and only Garrus Vakarian.
He squinted up at her, so out of it that it seemed he hadn’t even processed that she was yelling at him.
“Shepard?”
His eyes drifted to the lamp in her hands, still suspended midair. “Were you going to hit me?”
Shepard sighed and dropped the lamp to her feet. “Garrus, what the hell are you doing on the floor?”
He moaned and groaned as he moved to sit up, untangling himself from the fabric tying him down. He looked curiously around the room, clutching his head in pain as he did so.
“Where are we?”
“Hell if I know.”
Shepard followed his gaze around the ransacked room. The curtains were practically falling off the hooks, the bedspread was torn bare, the tables and chairs overturned every which way–it was like a bomb went off.
She tried to recall how they ended up here, and how exactly disaster had struck the bedroom, but no matter how hard she tried, it seemed she had no memories from the night before.
“I can’t remember a thing.”
“Me either.” Garrus looked up at her, then to the bedroom door, “Are we alone?”
Shepard straightened her back, reaching, once again, for the small lamp at her feet. Garrus stood and grabbed the only weapon left at his disposal, a pillow.
“What are you going to do, tell them a bedtime story?” Shepard sneered through gritted teeth.
Garrus responded incredulously, “Unless you’re hiding my pistol somewhere, this is the best I’ve got!”
The pair approached the door and stopped on either side. Garrus positioned himself in front, his hand hovering over the knob while he waited for Shepard’s signal. She pressed her ear to the wall, trying to hear any sign of life from the next room. Nothing.
She motioned for Garrus to open the door and they burst in, “weapons” raised. The room was empty, or rather, there was no sign of life. The rest of the place matched the bedroom it seemed, absolutely trashed. Glass, confetti, and rose petals littered the floor. Champagne bottles and glasses were either smashed to pieces or strewn about the counters, and the couch cushions were torn to shreds. Burns and bullet holes lined the walls and the remaining furniture.
Someone’s not getting their deposit back, Shepard thought ruefully.
Garrus nodded his head to the right. Shepard reciprocated with a nod, splitting up from him to survey the left side of the room for potential stowaways and clues.
Shepard approached the couch, and while she didn’t find anyone hidden about the upholstery, she determined that most of the damage to the furniture was from gunfire. She rights the couch frame and peruses the cushions until she finds a spent casing.
Alliance grade, she determined, Probably mine, but where’s my gun?
A scene flashes in Shepard’s mind. A memory of her and Garrus at a bar. More people are there, but she can’t make out who. They’re celebrating something, someone?
Shepard struggled to remember more details, her hands searching blindly on the couch while she was lost in thought. A ring falls. A ring?
It was simple, but elegant. Clearly an engagement ring, the huge rock sitting atop the silver band a dead giveaway. Its bright oval diamond glittered amongst the shards of glass at Shepard’s feet. She picked it up, careful to avoid the glass, and flipped it over in her hand. The band was bare with no engraving or indication of who it belonged to.
A ring, rose petals, champagne, and confetti…
Shepard stands to her feet and in the motion, she catches sight of herself in a broken mirror on the wall. In her bird’s nest of hair lay a delicate draping of lace.
A ring, rose petals, champagne, confetti, and… a veil.
Her headache throbbed, making her keel over in pain. Another memory flashed in her mind: a lively scene of partygoers toasting the happy couple–toasting her. Garrus moves to stand at her side, and when she looks up at him he’s distracted, talking to a man Shepard can’t identify with a glass in hand. She watched him for a moment, taking in the subtle movements in his face; she watched his eyebrows twitch and his mandibles flutter as he conversed. His eyes caught her gaze. Shepard felt her breath hitch in her throat. Garrus raised his glass subtly in Shepard’s direction, a small smile on his lips as he drank. She sipped her drink.
“Find anything?”
Shepard jumped, tearing the veil off her head and hiding it behind her back. “Garrus! You scared the shit outta me.”
He laughed, “Sorry. Couldn’t find anything on my side. What about you?”
“Alliance bullets, probably mine from the looks of it, but no gun.”
Garrus’ brows furrowed, “That’s not good.”
He looked over Shepard’s shoulder at the mess behind her. “You think we did that?”
Shepard sighed, “Your guess is as good as mine. Do you remember anything from last night?”
Garrus groaned, his mandibles flaring in pain. “I remember… a bar. Spirits, the bar. Do you think we were drugged?”
“That would make sense,” Shepard said, “But why are we alone? What are you doing here?”
“Ouch,” Garrus laughed, “I think I remember you inviting me to join you on your little mando-fun bar crawl.”
Shepard moved towards the kitchenette on the other side of the room and began searching the cabinets.
“Excuse me for trying to get your ass out of the main battery.”
“I never said I was mad about it.”
“I was just trying to help.”
“I don’t need my memory to know that, Shepard.”
Shepard faltered, accidentally slamming one of the cabinets shut. A blush crept up the nape of her neck. He said it so naturally, in a way that made Shepard feel exposed. When she finally turned around, she noticed Garrus eying her hair. He motioned clumsily to his fringe.
“What happened to your…” he paused, laughing at himself as he struggled to find the words, “Hair thingy.”
He pouted, unsatisfied with his lacking vocabulary. Shepard snorted at the sight of him and looked away.
“The veil?”
“Sure.”
“You noticed that? I took it off.”
“What’s it for?”
Shepard pursed her lips. “It’s a human thing.”
His eyes widened expectantly, “For what?”
I guess it wouldn’t help us if I lied about this. For all I know, the veil was some drunk joke.
“For human weddings. They’re for the bride.”
Shepard held up the engagement ring she found in the couch, “I also found this in the couch cushions.”
She looked at Garrus expectantly, waiting for him to draw a conclusion, but he just stared blankly in return.
“An engagement ring,” Shepard drawled, waving said jewelry in his face.
His eyes widened, his gaze wandering around the room in disbelief, as if searching for someone else to share his shock with.
“Shepard,” he breathed, “You got married?”
Deep breaths, Jane. “If I remembered that, wouldn’t that be the first thing I’d tell you? As far as I’m concerned, yeah, it looks like I crashed my own wedding last night. And, since you’re the only one here…”
“You don’t think–?” Garrus looked between Shepard, the ring, and the bedroom they woke up in. “No, we wouldn’t.”
“We don’t know that,” Shepard interjected, “We don’t know anything, actually.”
Garrus sighed, dragging a hand slowly down his face in exasperation. Shepard felt a pang of hurt in her chest at his denial and subsequent disgust at the thought of them together.
“If we went to our usual place, I know a security guard there who could get us the security footage from last night.”
Shepard nodded, pushing the feeling away, “Then let’s get a move on.”
Immediately upon entering the Silversun Strip, they were greeted with apparent acquaintances from the night before.
“Quite the show you put on last night!”
“Surprised you guys are still kicking! That was rough.”
“Never thought I’d see the great Commander Shepard in her element.”
“Don’t forget that drink you owe me!”
“Slept in late, huh? I bet.”
“Phew, still walking after last night?”
“Garrus,” Shepard whispered sharply, “Do you know these people?”
“No ma’am. Not one.”
They were polite, keeping up appearances, whatever those appearances were supposed to be, and quickened their pace to the bar.
A gruff krogan stopped them at the entrance.
“You think you’re getting back in here? Get lost!”
The pair stood their ground, more comfortable with the abrasiveness of this stranger than the familiarity of those they passed on the way there. Garrus stepped closer to the man.
“We’re not here to cause trouble. We need to see Varka.”
The krogan huffed, “And why would I do that?”
Garrus and Shepard exchanged looks, Money.
Pat pat. Pat. Pat pat… Shit.
“Look here,” Shepard started, “This is Spectre business, and I don’t need a lowlife like you fucking up my job. Stay in your lane and get out of my way.”
They paused, waiting for the krogan to react.
After a moment, he grunted, stepping aside. “See if I care.”
Garrus and Shepard nodded in approval and entered the dimly lit bar with caution. If the people they ran into on the way over were any indication, they clearly caused a scene the night before. Hopefully the scene was memorable enough for them to get a clear picture of what transpired while they were there, and hopefully someone had some clues as to where they went afterwards.
The music pounded, the bass vibrating through the floors and up the walls. Shepard could feel the music in her bones. It was a nice escape from the quiet monotony of space travel. There was only so much opportunity for sound in a vacuum after all.
Garrus nudged her shoulder, nodding towards the far corner of the room where a lone turian watched them.
“That’s the guy. I’ll go talk to him.”
Shepard nodded, splitting up with Garrus to head towards the bar. She fell unceremoniously into the barstool, catching the attention of the bartender. They acknowledged her presence with a curt nod, finishing up their conversation with one of the few customers around so early in the morning.
Shepard took the time to refamiliarize herself with her surroundings. If she went out for drinks last night, it definitely would have been here. Alliance friendly–for the most part–and the drinks were strong. The music was good too, but with enough alcohol in your system anything sounds good.
Though she couldn’t recall specifics, an itch of familiarity scratched her brain as she took in the room. It was definitely busy last night. Shepard recalled it being a Citadel holiday, which meant the nightlife was abuzz with partygoers and drunks looking to get absolutely wasted.
Shepard was pulled from her train of thought as the bartender finally came to greet her.
“Pick your poison,” they droned.
Shepard shook her head, “I have a couple of questions for you, actually.”
They raised a brow, “I suspect I know what they are.”
“Did you see me here last night?”
“I saw a lot of people.”
“So you were working last night.”
“I was.”
“And I was here?”
“You caused quite the scene.”
“So I’ve heard.” Shepard spoke through gritted teeth, “Care to tell me what that’s about?”
“I’m surprised you don’t remember–Or should I say, I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”
The hangover was not doing her personality any wonders. “Maybe I would if you got to the damn point.”
The bartender paused, their lips curling into a slight scowl. “I don’t usually give loiterers the luxury of conversation.”
Shepard took the hint, “I don’t have any money.”
“You have a tab.”
I do? “Fine. Go on.”
The bartender, with a newfound spunk, continued their recounting.
“You and your buddies almost destroyed my bar. I should have expected as much–wedding parties are always a pain,” they muttered dejectedly.
“Who were we with?”
Garrus and the other turian returned before she could get her answer.
“These guys want to see the footage,” the turian said, a silent question of permission attached at the end for the bartender.
They nodded, turning around to grab a cloth to wipe the empty glass in front of them.
“Go ahead.”
Shepard stood with an annoyed groan. This guy is setting off all sorts of red flags. How do I know they’re not the reason I’m in this mess to begin with?
Shepard and Garrus trailed the turian guard, Varka, to an office in the back of the establishment, hidden away so that inebriated patrons couldn’t wander in.
The surveillance room was barely big enough to hold the two turians comfortably, let alone the human squished in between them.
Varka leaned over to adjust the screens to the night before. He scrubbed the timeline until he caught sight of Shepard’s entrance.
“Hard to miss,” Garrus joked, pointing at the bright red pixels of Shepard’s hair.
Shepard smiled politely, “Thanks, we can take it from here.”
Varka nodded, scooting past the two of them to leave. Garrus gave him their thanks, releasing him to return to his post in the main hall.
Shepard sat in the sad-looking office chair in front of the desk. The footage was playing in real time, and she watched as she and Garrus took a seat at the bar.
“So it was just the two of us,” Garrus confirmed.
“At least so far,” Shepard countered.
They were laughing, their tiny pixelated bodies swaying on the screen. Shepard clicked through the cameras available to them, looking around the bar for any suspicious characters and behavior. Nothing yet.
In typical Shepard luck, only four of the cameras seemed to be working, and of those four, only two were even watchable. The two that watched the exit and the dance floor were so blurry and glitchy that Shepard wondered if they even pointed to the bar in the first place.
“There,” Garrus pointed.
His talons pointed at a dark mass on the screen showing the exit. He moved to take control of the video.
“Go back.”
Shepard watched closely, a quiet gasp escaping her lips when she caught sight of a bachelorette party entering the room.
She snatched the controls back, switching the camera to watch the group sit down at a booth. With a clearer view, Shepard zoomed into the group, examining each member with intense scrutiny until she stopped on a human woman in white. Perched atop her head was Shepard’s veil. Her veil, she corrected herself, her heart fluttering with a mix of relief and confusion.
Flickers of a memory raced in Shepard’s mind. Drinks, so many drinks. The bridal party. Everyone was drunk. The bride-to-be gave Shepard her veil. Shepard remembered her embarrassment and Garrus’ curious look.
Shepard reached into her pocket and rotated the engagement ring from the room in her hand. In the movement, the ring effortlessly slipped onto her finger. She shook it off, along with the memory.
Seconds later, they watched on the cameras as a group of rowdy men joined the women at the table. One of the men wrapped an arm around the veiled woman, leaning in to kiss her before ordering a round of drinks for everyone. The bachelors, I presume.
“That is definitely the veil,” Shepard confirmed.
Garrus hummed to himself. His attention didn’t stray from the video; he soaked in every detail and analyzed every movement.
Shepard watched him watching the tapes. Her lips parted subconsciously, soaking in the sight of the turian hovering next to her. He crossed his arms. The curve of his spine flowed easily into the curve of his legs, giving his posture a relaxed look that contradicted the constipated look on his face. His mandibles twitched–which Shepard likened to the twitching whiskers of a dreaming cat. She felt the corner of her lip curve upward at the thought.
“She looks nervous,” he said, breaking Shepard out of her trance.
Shepard cleared her throat and examined the bride-to-be’s mannerisms. Her head swivelled side to side, never leaving her surroundings unchecked, and her leg bounced underneath the bartop hidden from view to the rest of her party. The fiance at her side rubbed her arm comfortingly.
The woman smiles reassuringly and takes a long sip from her glass. She downs the drink in one go and raises the cup for a replacement from the bartender.
Garrus fast-forwarded the footage, skipping the many rounds of drinks that disappeared at the hands of this joint-bachelor-bachelorette party. He opened another window to watch him and Shepard at the bar. Both sides became visibly tipsy as the night went on and their tabs racked up drink after drink.
He slows it back down to normal when he sees the bride and groom move towards the bar. They lean in on opposite sides of Shepard to order another round of drinks for the table. The pair look up at her in recognition, the camera catching their mouths undoubtedly moving to say, “Commander Shepard!”
Garrus snorts.
“What is so funny?” She asks, a twinge of embarrassment in her annoyance.
Her turian friend laughs again, “Your influence knows no bounds, Shepard.”
Idiot. Shepard feels her cheeks heat up at the comment and she turns her nose up at him.
“Focus on the task at hand, Garrus.”
“Yes ma’am,” he salutes with a lazy smile.
How he could be so nonchalant while this huge chunk of their memories was still missing, she didn’t know. She found herself distracted by the playful way his eyebrows danced when he teased her. Knock it off, Jane.
Shepard observes the couple talk excitedly at her, and a twinge of familiarity stirs in the back of her mind. A feeling that matches the look on her face in the footage.
“Elizabeth Trevor,” Shepard blurted out. “Her name.”
Garrus trilled. He remembered something.
“They were in danger,” he said, “They asked for our help.”
Shepard watched in a curious silence as her past self put a reassuring hand on the couple’s shoulders and–
“What happened?” Shepard asked, leaning forward to examine the black screen that interrupted the videotape.
Garrus took control of the computer, clicking around to check for any interference or camera issues.
“I think someone deleted the footage. That, or they jammed it before they came inside”
“Can you get it back?”
Garrus let out a frustrated grunt. “Whoever messed with the camera doesn’t want us to know they were there last night. It could be entirely unrelated, but…”
“It’s too convenient,” Shepard finished.
Garrus nodded, “Precisely.”
With a sigh, Garrus scrubbed the timeline to look for the end of the missing footage. When the cameras began recording again, the bar was in complete shambles. Not unlike the room Garrus and Shepard had found themselves in earlier, the dance floor was littered with shrapnel, glass, and bullet holes. A shattered disco ball lay in a sparkling crater on the ground. What was once a crowded hub on a holiday weekend was an abandoned ghost town. The snarky bartender who had greeted them stood alone in the rubble.
Shepard stood and started towards the door, Garrus following in suit. She returned to the bar and backed the bartender up against the counter.
“Cut the crap,” she snarled, “Where are they?”
The bartender wheezed, choking out a meek ‘I don’t know.’
Shepard stood back, leaving them to catch their breath as Garrus took the lead.
“What do you know?”
They spoke with a ginger hand to their neck. “It was a normal night. Lots of people, holiday weekend, the usual. You didn’t even stand out to me until you joined the wedding party.”
“Then,” they coughed, “This gang charged in, guns ablaze. Didn’t even say anything. Just started shooting. Everyone started running or shooting back. I got a couple shots in, but I don’t know anything else, I swear! When they finally left, the place was practically empty anyway, so I assumed you had cleared out with the rest of them.”
Shepard frowned. “Fine.”
She gestured behind the bar. “Give me the name on their tab.”
“The recoil on this model is horrible,” Garrus groaned.
Shepard adjusted the small shotgun on her hip until she was satisfied with its placement.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Garrus. At least we’re not unarmed anymore.”
Garrus sighed dramatically, fiddling dejectedly with the low-grade omnitool on his wrist.
Turns out the bar’s lost and found was more of a glorified weapon locker.
“I think we should check the hospital nearby to see if anyone from the fight last night showed up,” Shepard explained.
Garrus nodded in agreement, following close behind as Shepard led the way.
They were greeted warmly when they entered, the hospital staff no doubt familiar with Shepard and her crew after their frequent visits. The receptionist smiled as they approached her desk.
“Commander Shepard! Always a pleasure to see you outside of emergencies. What can I help you with today?”
Shepard smiled grimly, “Hello, Elena. Did anyone come in with a gunshot wound last night? Or are there any patients who reported coming from the Silversun Strip?”
“Is this Spectre business?”
Shepard nodded curtly.
The receptionist tapped away on her screen, clicking around until she felt satisfied with the information she’d collected.
“We had three patients come in from the bar, one succumbed to his injuries this morning. The other two are in the recovery wing.”
She paused, squinting at the screen and switching through her screens. “Hold on,” she said, “This says one of the injured men checked out against medical advice an hour ago.”
Shepard sighed, “Of course… Is there any way you can get us a name?”
“Of course, Commander,” she smiled, “Poru Kreuk is the AMA patient, a krogan, and Gavin Trevor is in room 7 in the west wing.”
Shepard’s hand hit the counter in satisfaction. “Thank you, Elena.”
“Anytime, Commander.”
She and Garrus started towards Gavin Trevor’s room when Garrus nudged her side playfully.
“Of course, Commander. Anytime, Commander,” he giggled.
Shepard rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips. “Shut up, Garrus.”
They arrived at Gavin’s room without incident, and waited for the doctors to clear out before going inside. Their hands hovered over their weapons.
In undeserving surprise, the man recognized them.
“Commander Shepard! Garrus! You have to help my sister. She’s in trouble–real bad trouble! You have to help me find her–”
“Woah,” Shepard held up her hand, “Slow down. We’re trying to figure out what happened. Do you know who attacked the bar last night?”
He was still in his clothes from the night before, Shepard noticed. His right arm was in a sling and the bandages on his stomach stuck out from the bottom of his shirt. His face was scratched up, but the staff had cleaned him up well enough that any blood or dirt on his skin had been wiped away.
He took a deep breath. “M-My sister, Elizabeth. She’s a doctor–or, no, a scientist. She always gets on me about that.”
Gavin chuckled dryly, “She works for a private company that specializes in interspecies vaccines. Trying to standardize healthcare, make it more efficient, affordable, blah blah blah.”
“Gavin,” Shepard warned.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t know how many times I’ve had to listen to that speech.”
“Is someone after your sister?” Garrus asked.
Gavin nodded, “Yeah. She can’t talk about her work in too much detail, so I don’t know what they were working on, but she told me that their next project was a big one. A lot of big investors. She was really nervous about it, and I thought it was just normal work-nerves, y’know?
“She lives with Jalen–her fiance–so I don’t see her very often, but she called me the other day in the middle of the night saying she thought she was being followed. I drove to pick her up and asked her about it, but all she said was, ‘Work is getting stressful,’ and that she must’ve been imagining it.”
“You don’t think that was the case,” Shepard stated.
He shook his head, “If it was anyone else, I would have believed them. But Lizzie, she’s a beast. She’s the bravest person I know. Planning the wedding was a walk in the park, and she usually has no complaints about work. I think whatever they have her working on is dangerous and someone’s after her for it. I only heard about it from Jalen, but he said someone tried breaking into their apartment last month.”
Garrus crossed his arms, “That’s quite the theory…”
“You have to believe me,” he begged, “I know she talked to you last night. Did she say anything about it?”
Shepard and Garrus exchanged a glance.
“Well,” Shepard started, “We know she asked us for help, but whoever was after her didn’t want us to know about it. We were drugged.”
Gavin dropped his head into his hands and wept.
“Do you remember anything about last night that could help us find your sister?”
He hiccuped, “I don’t know, I-It’s hard to remember anything after they started shooting.”
“Whatever you have, doesn’t matter how small.”
“I heard screaming. They were taking Lizzie away from us. I think Jalen tried chasing them, they must have gotten him too.”
Shepard put a hand on his back, “I swear to you, we’re going to find your sister. We’ll be back.”
The door to his room hissed closed, leaving them standing outside without a word.
Garrus broke the silence with a sigh, “Things are never boring with you around, Shepard.”
Shepard fought back a laugh at the comment. “I attract crisis, clearly.”
“A lot more than that,” he said, the words coming out faster than either of them could process.
Garrus cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “If the people going after her are after a virus, this could be more serious than we thought.”
“Agreed,” Shepard said, “I think we should check out the facility next.”
“Right behind you, Shepard.”
She ignored the way her heart fluttered at his words.
“This must have been in the works for a while,” Shepard muses, “It’s still a holiday–The building’s practically deserted.”
“What did we get ourselves into,” Garrus sighed.
They approached the perimeter of the facility with caution and ducked behind a shed for cover. Garrus pulled up the building plan on his borrowed omnitool. He struggled a bit to keep the schematics zoomed out, muttering complaints about the owner’s user settings and swearing revenge on whoever stole his omnitool.
“We’re here,” he pointed, “There’s a side entrance about 200 meters northeast with more cover, and probably less firepower.”
Shepard nodded, “Where are the labs? Can you tell which one they’d be looking for?”
He fumbled around on the tool for a moment, scrolling and zooming around with dissatisfied grunts and groans. Shepard covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.
“This is my best guess. Most of the labs above ground are offices and pharmaceutical distribution centers. The building is listed publicly as having two floors and a basement, but a quick scan shows that there are at least two more underground levels. It’s hard to tell for sure, but…”
Garrus pointed to a large room on the second underground level. “I say we start here.”
“Okay,” Shepard agreed, peeking around the wall to check for anyone standing guard, “Let’s do it.”
Garrus stayed on Shepard’s six, the two of them moving in tandem under the bright afternoon sun.
They stopped just short of the northeast entrance. Garrus checked his omnitool for any sign of life online, while Shepard stayed on the lookout for any potential dangers and intruders.
Once they both confirmed that the coast was clear, they rushed in, guns drawn.
They moved through the facility, room by room, hallway by hallway, leaving no stone unturned. Shepard and Garrus moved in tandem, their dips and turns mirrored, as if in a dance.
Shepard found herself in a light trance, her focus slipping from the task at hand. I wonder if he feels the same way I do.
Garrus pulled her back suddenly. The momentum kept them moving until their backs slammed against the wall. Shepard opened her mouth to ask him what he saw, but he held a finger to his lips, gesturing to the door beside them with his eyes.
Shepard nodded and carefully approached. She pressed her ear against the door, holding her gun close to her chest.
“How much longer is this shit going to take,” said a male voice.
A woman responded, “Stop complaining, do you know how long this took to plan? Just shut up and keep watch.”
“You’re not even watching! I can see your messages on your omnitool–You’re texting!”
“I’ve been looking for a couch for months! This guy is practically giving this thing away. Someone else is gonna steal it if I don’t get in there now.”
Shepard rolled her eyes.
In a flash, she and Garrus were holding the two at gunpoint.
“Where is Elizabeth,” Shepard asked.
The two raised their hands in surrender as Garrus patted them down and removed their weapons. The man scoffed.
“And why would we tell you?”
“Dude, shut the fuck up.”
“What?! You want the boss to blow your head off, go right ahead. I’m not talking!”
Shepard growled in annoyance. “If you think you’re making it out of here without telling me what I want to know, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Shepard,” Garrus called, “Check this out.”
He removed the omnitool from the man’s arm and clicked through it for a moment before presenting it to her. On it was a tracker showing a small blinking dot on the floorplan Shepard recognized from Garrus’ investigation before.
“You don’t have a fucking password on your omnitool?” the woman sneered.
The man gasped, “I do! I’m not an idiot!”
Garrus mumbled, “1234 hardly counts as a password.”
A loud smack resounded throughout the room as the woman’s hand made contact with the back of her partner’s head.
“Stupid!”
“Enough!” Shepard yelled, rubbing her eyes as the headache returned. “Get on the ground and shut it!”
She gestured for them to move with her gun, at which the partners reluctantly complied.
“Garrus, lock these idiots up.”
“Gladly.”
Garrus emerged from the room, joining Shepard in the hallway once more. He held out a new assault rifle and shotgun, strapping on two similar guns to his holsters.
“These look much more my style,” Shepard commented.
“I thought so too.”
He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“Ready when you are, Shepard.”
Hot on the trail of Elizabeth’s whereabouts, the pair move with a newfound confidence through the halls of the lab. They check each room and hallway with caution, not allowing the upper hand to get in the way of protocol.
The rest of the ground floor was unguarded, their opponents clearly having decided that whatever they had planned wouldn’t be discovered.
Clearly they weren’t after me, Shepard thought, Elizabeth knew she was being followed, but didn’t tell anyone who. Her work was secret, but it’s public knowledge that she works here. There’s something I’m missing. She must have told me more last night, but what?
Shepard put a hand on Garrus’ arm, stopping him short of the stairwell so she could check it. He stood back, watching her carefully. His blue eyes looked electric in the building’s fluorescent lighting.
Focus, Jane. Now is not the time.
“Clear,” she whispered.
Their boots clinked and clanked against the thin metal stairs as they descended. The lights were dim, but a glow from the bottom hinted at potential trouble below. For now though, no one was in the stairwell but them.
Garrus and her slowed as they reached the bottom. They drew their guns and stood at the ready. Shepard took the lead, peeking through the small window in the door. A shadow passed in front of it, causing the light to flash in her eyes. She blinked the light away. By the time her eyes adjusted to the change, she barely registered the gun pointing towards her in time to jump out of the way and take Garrus with her.
Pinned to the wall beside the door, the two of them watched as bullets tore through the glass window and as shouting sounded from the next room.
Shepard peered out every so often to shoot, but there were too many of them to steady her aim without getting shot.
Garrus flew to the opposite wall, climbing up the stairs they came down from to get a better angle himself. He grunted, bullets hitting his shield before he was able to adjust his cover.
Shepard winced, her shields falling and letting shrapnel scratch and burn at her skin.
One by one, they took down the goons that stood against them. Bullets flew back and forth, leaving barely enough time to reload their weapons and pop open a medigel pack. Shepard felt her foot go numb in its awkward position.
When the fire slowed and they ran out of armored foes, the pair advanced their positions into the next room. Hiding behind overturned desks and lab paraphernalia, they continued shooting.
A shot landed on a wall of shelves behind them, sending a shower of glass on Shepard’s head. Her hands flew up to cover her face. Their opponents took this as an opportunity to retreat into the next room. Shepard heard a woman’s scream.
“Shepard!” Garrus yelled, “It’s Elizabeth!”
Garrus peered out from behind his cover to take down some of the guards, leaving room for Shepard to charge from behind and recover some of the ground that had been lost in the other team’s retreat.
“There’s nowhere to run! Let her go!” Shepard called.
The bullets ceased, and Shepard caught sight of Elizabeth across the room in a man’s grasp. She was struggling against his hold. In the light, Shepard realized that the team was entirely human. Not out of the ordinary, but worth noting.
“I’m not leaving without her,” he shouts back, “And there’s no way you’re stopping me.”
“Commander!” Elizabeth yelled, struggling against her captor, “Is Jalen okay? Where is he?!”
Shepard gritted her teeth, weighing her options and observing the scene around them. The lab was in ruins, and the remaining guards stood at the ready, surrounding them on all sides.
“I didn’t think you’d get here, Commander,” the captor spoke, “I thought you’d be too tired after all the fun we had last night.”
Shepard raised her gun, his cronies raising theirs in response. “What was it? Chloroform? A roofie?”
He laughed, “Do you think so little of me? Nothing so crude.”
“I don’t know you,” Shepard retorted, “You’re not big enough to be on my radar.”
The man scoffed.
Shepard scowled, her finger still hovering over the trigger. “How did you know I’d be at the bar last night? What’s your plan?”
“Maybe you’re not big enough to be on my radar either, Shep.”
“So you’re after her,” Shepard started, “What kind of scheme are you running here?”
He takes a step back towards the door, Elizabeth tripping backwards with him.
“Okay,” Shepard said, “You have the girl, where are the others? Where’s Jalen?”
Elizabeth’s eyes glowed with tears and she watched Shepard carefully, afraid of the answer and begging for it at the same time.
He needs her. He can’t kill her yet, Shepard thought, But I still can’t let him leave.
A glance back at Garrus revealed him typing away on his stolen omnitool, presumably looking for anything they could use to their advantage.
“I have no reason to hurt any of Lizzie’s little friends,” the man chimed, “Yet.”
Another memory flashes in Shepard’s mind, interrupting her thoughts.
She trips over a couch cushion on the floor, her arm limply draped over Garrus’ shoulder. He laughs at her until he trips over another stray pillow, sending them both barrelling towards the floor. They land hard on the floor, the scattered cushions barely enough to cushion an elbow or two on their way down. Shepard laughed, rolling over and coming face to face with Garrus. Their eyes meet and the air stills.
That was not helpful, Shepard groaned, feeling embarrassment tickle the back of her neck in a warm blush.
“Why are you doing this? Why do you need Elizabeth?”
Garrus shuffled along the side of the desk, inching closer to the woman stationed on their left. Shepard’s gun was still aimed at Elizabeth and her captor, which kept the crew’s attention on her.
“I don’t expect someone like you to understand, Commander,” he said. “You or your alien friend.”
“Try me. I’m smarter than I look.”
Shepard faltered.
Her mind is back in the bar, and she’s challenging Garrus to another round of shots when they’re interrupted. A woman with wavy black hair stood beside them, a crisp white veil adorning her hair to match her white dress. With her is a man in a loose button up, slacks, and dress shoes. His glasses balanced precariously at the end of his nose.
“Commander Shepard!” they exclaim.
The woman continues, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I–I need your help.”
Shepard and Garrus share a glance.
“Have a seat,” Shepard said, waving her over to the empty seats beside her.
“My name is Elizabeth Trevor, this is Jalen, my fiance. I work for Panacea. We develop vaccines with a focus on creating trans-species viable medicines. I can’t give specifics, but our recent project has put a lot of eyes on us–me and my coworkers have been on edge. I’m being followed, and–and I think someone’s broken into my home.”
Elizabeth whispered the last part soft and low, as if saying it would make it feel too real.
Shepard put a hand on her shoulder. “Have you confirmed this? If it’s dangerous, you could get your lab to hire security.”
“Oh they have!” she cried, immediately hushing herself. “They keep the lab guarded while we’re there, but our operation isn’t very large. And hiring too many people would draw more eyes on us. I don’t know how our project got out, and I’m too scared to ask anyone at work about it.”
“I’m not sure I’m–”
“You have to help me! We’re getting married this week, and I know that they’ve been following me. I’m afraid they’ll hurt my family. I’m afraid they followed me here. I didn’t even want to go out tonight.”
Jalen rubs her back as Elizabeth chokes back a sob.
Garrus interjects, “We generally don’t like to get involved without knowing what we’re up against. You’re saying you can’t tell us anything?”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands and fiddled with her fingers. They meandered over to her ring finger, where they softly brushed over her engagement ring. She caressed the oval diamond and twisted the silver band around and around her finger as she thought.
“It’s hard to explain.”
Shepard nodded. “Try me. I’m smarter than I look.”
“I suppose… Yes, you’re right.”
Elizabeth poured over the details, revealing her lab’s struggle for funding, their run-in with opposing political figures from all over the galaxy, and their controversial status with extremist groups.
“It’s for a good cause,” Elizabeth reasoned. “Most of what we develop are medicines for small colonies without hospitals or many doctors. The vaccine I was helping create was commissioned for a series of new human-turian colonies out in the Attican Beta cluster. But we were getting threatened by some of our human backers–Most of our controversy is from groups like Cerberus, the type that want to keep humans separate from everyone else. We started as a human-focused company, but supply and demand calls for more as we keep expanding throughout the galaxy–Anyway, they didn’t like our shift to more universal medicine.”
“Cerberus, huh?” Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose.
“They’ve been busy with Reapers lately,” Garrus said, “I doubt they’re the ones involved this time.”
“Recently there’s been a lot of noise from human extremist groups.”
Shepard sighed and put her hand over Elizabeth’s trembling fingers.
“How can we help?”
Shepard felt her headache returning as the memory faded.
“Enough talking, Shepard. It’s time I take little Elizabeth with me.”
“Commander, please!” Elizabeth cried.
Garrus nodded in her direction, positioned at the end of the desk with his gun at the ready.
“I don’t think you’re getting out of here anytime soon.”
Shepard fired a shot towards the captor, grazing his shoulder. He gasped, letting go of Elizabeth long enough for her to run towards Shepard. The men began firing in response. Shepard hid Elizabeth behind her, charging at the man to her right while Garrus handled the two on her left. In the initial surprise, he had taken down one already, and was fighting off the remaining crew with all the firepower at his disposal.
Elizabeth clutched to Shepard’s back, crying out with every gunshot that rang through the lab.
The captor struggled to regain his footing, clutching his injured shoulder with a scowl.
“Damn you–!”
As the last person fell, Garrus and Shepard approached the fallen man. He managed to get to his feet just as Garrus grabbed him by the shirt to pin him to the wall.
“Those idiots!” he cried, “What’s the point of bringing those brainless buffoons if they drop like flies?!”
Shepard helped Elizabeth to her feet, making sure she was alright before approaching the man.
“What was your endgame?”
He scoffed, still suspended by the collar in Garrus’ grasp. “I know we did a number on you, Shepard, but you can’t be stupid.”
“Watch it,” growled Garrus.
“Okay, tough guy, calm down. The Commander and I were just having a little fun, isn’t that right?”
“Fun’s over,” Shepard frowned, “Tell us where you’re keeping him.”
He sighed, “You don’t need my help to figure that one out.”
“I’m calling C-Sec,” Garrus said, leading the man to the back of the room.
Shepard nodded. She took Elizabeth by the shoulder and led her down the hall.
“Are you alright?”
A shaky breath left her lips. Elizabeth put a hand to her lips and collapsed to the floor. “Oh, Shepard! I’m so sorry.”
Tears spilled from her eyes as she sobbed. Shepard knelt down to join her, placing a delicate hand on her back to comfort her.
“This isn’t your fault,” she said.
“But it is!” Elizabeth cried, “I’m the one who forced you to help me, and I got you hurt! I made you go on this wild goose chase when you should be out there saving the galaxy!”
“If I’m really as heroic as you make it seem, who would I be to abandon you in your time of need?”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her white dress now stained with tears and dirt.
“Because of me, Jalen is missing. So many people were probably hurt because of me!”
“Well,” Shepard cleared her throat, searching for words of comfort. “I do know that Gavin is safe and sound in the hospital. A little bruised, a little scared, but okay.”
“He is? Oh, thank God!”
Her tears persisted, the stress from the day finally catching up with her.
A few minutes later, thundering footsteps echoed down the halls a gaggle of C-Sec officers parading towards them. Garrus emerged from the room with the prisoner in tow, tossing him over to the approaching officers. He spoke with them for a moment before joining Elizabeth and Shepard.
“I wasn't able to find anything conclusive, but his omnitool showed increased activity at three locations around the Citadel with known criminal activity. C-Sec seems to think he’s one of the minds behind The Argonauts. I’ve never heard of them.”
“They’re one of the groups that was giving us trouble when we expanded,” Elizabeth interjected.
Garrus nodded, “The officers said they’re going to check those locations for your family. They’re going to take it from here.”
“A-Are you sure?” Elizabeth looked to Shepard for approval.
“We’ll wait with you until you hear back. Besides, there’s still a lot we don’t know about last night.”
Garrus smiled, “Maybe you could fill us in?”
Elizabeth nods, and once the three of them are settled in a C-Sec office, she starts.
“I wasn’t going to go out, originally. I came home from work to find someone searching our apartment. I got scared and called Jalen, but he was already on his way to the strip. Once I got there, the group told me that they saw you sitting at the bar. I couldn’t believe it, the Commander Shepard, right in front of me!”
Garrus huffed, amused. Shepard elbowed him in response.
Elizabeth continued, “Jalen convinced me to ask you for help. I felt horrible bothering you on your day off, but I had already called C-Sec, and there was nothing they could do! After you both agreed to help, we invited you to join the party. I figured that if you were with us, no one would try anything and I could let loose a little for the party, and for a while I did! We drank, we laughed, but… Then they came.”
She teared up recalling the intrusion, “A group of people barged in, and they just started shooting. Everyone started running, I lost track of Jalen, my brother, everyone. I just started running, but they caught me. They started dragging me away, and you-you tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them.”
“I remember now,” Garrus said. “You told us to find your apartment.”
Elizabeth nodded, “I knew they wanted something from me, and that they thought it was at my place. I was hoping you’d find them there, if anything. Or that maybe that’s where they were taking me. Wishful thinking, I suppose.”
She sighed, “After that, they blindfolded me and took me to some hideout. I didn’t know where I was until they took me to the labs. They wanted me to make something–to edit the contents of the vaccine. They wanted me to poison people.”
“Clearly they aren’t fans of your work,” Shepard said.
“Yes,” Elizabeth nodded, “After that, well, you know.”
Shepard smiled, “It’s alright. You’ve done more than enough. Whatever we don’t know won’t hurt us now.”
“Your memories should return eventually,” she explained, “They usually do.”
“I like those odds,” Garrus chuckled.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. A C-Sec officer enters, followed by Jalen and the rest of Elizabeth’s party. She stands with a gasp, running to embrace Jalen in a crushing hug.
Shepard stood from her chair. “I think it’s about time we got going. Garrus?”
“Agreed.”
“Wait!”
Elizabeth parts from her fiance to embrace Shepard.
“Thank you.”
Shepard froze for a moment before reciprocating, giving Elizabeth a soft pat on the back
“I have a confession to make,” Shepard said, clearing her throat.
Elizabeth parted from her. “What is it?”
“I may have stolen your veil.”
The women burst into laughter, Elizabeth waving her hand dismissively.
“That’s right. I was getting pretty drunk. I think I was ready to give you my wedding ring–Oh! My ring!”
Shepard smiled, pulling the engagement ring out of her bag and presenting it to Elizabeth.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think you’ll be needing this sooner than I will.”
Elizabeth laughs, taking the ring from Shepard’s outstretched hand and putting it on.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“We left your apartment in a sorry state,” Shepard mused, “I don’t think we deserve that much praise.”
“Then I’ll consider us even,” Elizabeth grinned.
Shepard and Garrus exited the office, leaving Elizabeth and her family to their reunion. They walked in silence for a while, their feet taking them back down the strip.
“You know, Garrus,” Shepard started, “For a second there I really thought you and I–”
She laughed, interrupting herself. Garrus joined in.
“It was a strange night, that’s for sure,” he chuckled.
Shepard scratched the back of her neck, feeling a familiar blush creeping up her spine.
“I’m just glad everyone is safe and sound now.”
“Agreed.”
They fell silent once again. Shepard felt a knot in her stomach.
“I’m sorry your shore leave was ruined. So much for a vacation.”
He laughed, “It wasn’t all that bad. It’s hard to have a boring vacation with Commander Shepard around.”
Shepard sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I guess.”
Garrus cleared his throat. “You know, Shepard.”
“Yes?”
He paused. “We should do this again. It was nice–being with you.”
Aghast, Shepard replied, “I’m surprised I haven’t lost outing privileges after today. I thought I ruined it.”
“I guess that means we’ll have to try again sometime.”
Shepard hummed in agreement. She averted her gaze to look down at her shoes, her hands locked behind her back.
“It’s a date, then.”
“I guess it is.”
Oh.