Parable : Genesis 3d
anonymous
November 29 2014, 09:35:55 UTC
“And I can guarantee I’ll find better company with a pack of rabid varren in heat.” Just go easy until the guy gives you what you want and then you can go, just whatever you do, don’t punch him with everything you got, she repeats, a mantra for patience. Just think of meeting up with Garrus. This is nothing to the option to get to chat with him, even if it has to look like a professional conversation.
“Ah, you’re going to hurt my feelings if you keep that up.” His leer widens and his eyes finally reach her eyes. “Luckily for you, working for C-Sec has given me thick skin. Offer is still open, sweetheart.” He pats his lap, caressing it once before taking his drink from the table to take a sip.
That’s it. Jane takes a threatening step forward. “Call me that one more time and there won’t be anything left of you to complain about C-Sec.” She tightens her fist and it glows a soft blue. A soft shuffle of feet behind her snaps her attention back to the fact that she’s here with a team, and that they were all sent here to get information. She forces her fist to relax and her biotics to dissipate, but her body remains tense. “Just tell me where Garrus Vakarian is.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, but she knows a guy like him hasn’t learned the lesson and probably never will. “Hey, easy! Relax, okay. I was just having polite conversation.” Yeah right. “So you want to know where the Turian is, huh? You must be one of Anderson’s. He still stuck up on Saren? He let you know the little secret he’s got hidden in his closet?” His eyes narrow and he drops his head in a scowl. “That’s he’s not the little hero everyone takes him for?”
“Look, Harkin,” she crosses her arms, hoping it’ll help reign in her rising frustration. “I’m running low on patience and if you want to be able to walk out of here to go home to whatever shithole you call home, I’d skip the small talk and tell me where Garrus is.”
“Oh ho ho,” he jeers, “but everything falls together! Anderson used to be a Spectre, just like Saren. Only he fucked it up, lost the job and still blames it on the skull-faced fuck to this day. He’s still got a grudge, you see, and he’s using you as an errand girl to dig up anything he can use.”
Jane exhales a deep breath and rubs at her forehead, tending to the building headache. It’s like this man wants to die… “Last time, Harkin. Where’s Officer Vakarian?”
“Alright, alright.” He sniffs and takes another swig of his horrid smelly swill. “I can see you don’t want to play. You’re loss… Garrus has been snooping around Dr. Michel’s place. It’s a med clinic on the other side of these Wards. Rumor has it he’s going back there… though don’t expect to get anything out of the hotheaded little prick, he’s too interested in butting heads with the Executor to get anything done.”
Jane scowls, quickly turning to leave as her fists pulse in blue light before she follows up on her previous threats. Don’t think anyone would miss him, but the small satisfaction wouldn’t justify the consequences… Another time, Jane. Save it for a time where a huge weight isn’t sitting on your shoulders… Damn, the crack of his bones would’ve been sweet, though. She vaguely agrees with Williams’ ‘what an asshole’ statement as they head to get a cab.
When there cab lands outside the clinic doors, they can vaguely hear the muffled sounds of shouting and distress. She looks to her companions, to make sure they’ve heard it as well, and nods a silent ‘be ready if this goes south.’
The Lieutenant and Chief take position behind her, but the three keep their guns holstered in the small chance that they are misinterpreting the situation. The occupants don’t notice the hydraulic hiss of the opening door as Jane is given the opportunity to quickly survey the situation.
True enough, Garrus is here, quietly making his way around a half-wall, his gun out and at the ready. She quickly dismisses the way that sight makes her insides clench and pulls out her own weapon, taking aim at the three thugs threatening the scared medical worker, who Jane assumes is the doctor.
Parable : Genesis 3e
anonymous
November 29 2014, 09:36:43 UTC
The center most thug, the leader by his position before the doctor as he yells, hears the whirr of her squad’s weapons as they expand and quickly grabs the woman, pulling her to his chest as a hostage and human shield before aiming directly at Jane. “Who the hell are you?!”
Seeing that all attention is now on Jane and her team, Garrus moves with fluid speed and grace, pulling out of cover and turning the corner and taking a single shot that flies over the doctor’s shoulder and hits its target right between the eyes.
Jane quickly opens fire on the remaining three thugs, now disorganized and easy to pick off with a throw, followed by each team member taking a shot. Within moments they fall and she approaches Garrus and Dr. Michel as he helps her up off the ground where she dived for cover.
Once up and left to dust her clothes off, Garrus turns to Jane. “Perfect timing. Thanks to you, I got a clear shot at that bastard.”
I’ll say. No wonder you’re a sniper. She’s never seen him in action, but if this is usual of his skill then she has to admit his confidence is well earned. He acts fast and efficient, a damn good soldier and not just because of their private relationship. “That was a nice shot. You took him down kill and quick.”
He nods with a mandible flick. “Sometimes you get lucky.” Yeah, luck. Cocky bastard. He turns to the doctor. “Dr. Michel, are you hurt?”
She shakes her head emphatically. “No, no. I’m quite alright,” she says in her thick accent. “Thank you,” she turns to Jane, “thank all of you.”
“Who were those guys,” Jane motions to the dead bodies. “I take it they were here for a lot more than medical stims.”
The woman softly strokes a hand against her ear length hair, seeming to try to flatten any wiry strands from her scuffle. “They worked for Fist. They were trying to scare me into not telling Garrus about the Quarian.”
That gets Jane’s attention. Such an odd person to be the target of a criminal organization just screams intriguing. “Quarian? What would this Quarian have that Fist would want so badly that he sent in a group to hold you at gunpoint?”
“A Quarian came into my office with a gunshot wound. She wouldn’t tell me what happened and she seemed really scared, like she was running from something, or someone.” She drops her eyes and shakes her head, her hand still shaky. “She wanted the Shadow Broker. Wanted to trade information for safety.” She turns to Garrus with wide eyes. “I don’t understand… I gave her Fist’s contact… I thought he worked for the Shadow Broker.”
Jane catches the subtle shift in plates that usually signals more frustration as he turns away from the doctor. “Fist works for Saren now. Pissed off the Shadow Broker too.” His mandibles flicker in agitation and his eyes narrow. “Whatever that Quarian knows, it’s enough to have Saren after her…”
“Then we find the Quarian,” Jane decides. Garrus’ eyes relax and she makes a split decision, let Anderson, and whoever else, complain later. “You want to take Saren down too, right?” He nods with a confused brow shift. “Join me and we’ll take the bastard down.” She, once again, ignores the huff from the woman at her back, the visible lax in tension he’s had since the Council Chambers making her too happy to be bothered.
“We aren’t the only one’s going after Fist,” Garrus says as they take their leave of the clinic and approach the terminal. “The Shadow Broker sent a Krogan bounty hunter to collect on Fist’s head.” She turns to him with a raised brow as the terminal calls in a vehicle, quietly asking to continue. “Odds are he’s at C-Sec Academy… He always tends to bring attention to himself whenever he’s here. I’m sure we can catch him before he leaves, see what information he has on Fist.”
Jane agrees and sets their destination for the Academy, luckily finding an air car big enough to fit four heavily armed soldiers in full armor with some bit of comfort. By comfort, she only means not having to sit on someone’s lap, but it’s a step in the right direction.
Parable : Genesis 3f
anonymous
November 29 2014, 09:37:08 UTC
She gladly sits takes the seat next to Garrus with the excuse of not wanting her squad to feel uncomfortable, which by their furtive glances is obvious. Their close proximity even allows her to brush her leg against his and feel the deep vibration he shares through their touch.
Thanks to all humans having bad hearing for low subharmonic, the two of them look like to soldiers packed into a tight bench seat and not two lovers secretly sharing a comforting press of bodies and devoted subvocals.
Re: Parable : Genesis 3f
anonymous
November 29 2014, 11:05:04 UTC
Oh man, I love commenting and then seeing more story once I post. Hehe, and now she is going to try and drag him along with. And yay, already the secret affection has started.
“Ah, you’re going to hurt my feelings if you keep that up.” His leer widens and his eyes finally reach her eyes. “Luckily for you, working for C-Sec has given me thick skin. Offer is still open, sweetheart.” He pats his lap, caressing it once before taking his drink from the table to take a sip.
That’s it. Jane takes a threatening step forward. “Call me that one more time and there won’t be anything left of you to complain about C-Sec.” She tightens her fist and it glows a soft blue. A soft shuffle of feet behind her snaps her attention back to the fact that she’s here with a team, and that they were all sent here to get information. She forces her fist to relax and her biotics to dissipate, but her body remains tense. “Just tell me where Garrus Vakarian is.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, but she knows a guy like him hasn’t learned the lesson and probably never will. “Hey, easy! Relax, okay. I was just having polite conversation.” Yeah right. “So you want to know where the Turian is, huh? You must be one of Anderson’s. He still stuck up on Saren? He let you know the little secret he’s got hidden in his closet?” His eyes narrow and he drops his head in a scowl. “That’s he’s not the little hero everyone takes him for?”
“Look, Harkin,” she crosses her arms, hoping it’ll help reign in her rising frustration. “I’m running low on patience and if you want to be able to walk out of here to go home to whatever shithole you call home, I’d skip the small talk and tell me where Garrus is.”
“Oh ho ho,” he jeers, “but everything falls together! Anderson used to be a Spectre, just like Saren. Only he fucked it up, lost the job and still blames it on the skull-faced fuck to this day. He’s still got a grudge, you see, and he’s using you as an errand girl to dig up anything he can use.”
Jane exhales a deep breath and rubs at her forehead, tending to the building headache. It’s like this man wants to die… “Last time, Harkin. Where’s Officer Vakarian?”
“Alright, alright.” He sniffs and takes another swig of his horrid smelly swill. “I can see you don’t want to play. You’re loss… Garrus has been snooping around Dr. Michel’s place. It’s a med clinic on the other side of these Wards. Rumor has it he’s going back there… though don’t expect to get anything out of the hotheaded little prick, he’s too interested in butting heads with the Executor to get anything done.”
Jane scowls, quickly turning to leave as her fists pulse in blue light before she follows up on her previous threats. Don’t think anyone would miss him, but the small satisfaction wouldn’t justify the consequences… Another time, Jane. Save it for a time where a huge weight isn’t sitting on your shoulders… Damn, the crack of his bones would’ve been sweet, though. She vaguely agrees with Williams’ ‘what an asshole’ statement as they head to get a cab.
When there cab lands outside the clinic doors, they can vaguely hear the muffled sounds of shouting and distress. She looks to her companions, to make sure they’ve heard it as well, and nods a silent ‘be ready if this goes south.’
The Lieutenant and Chief take position behind her, but the three keep their guns holstered in the small chance that they are misinterpreting the situation. The occupants don’t notice the hydraulic hiss of the opening door as Jane is given the opportunity to quickly survey the situation.
True enough, Garrus is here, quietly making his way around a half-wall, his gun out and at the ready. She quickly dismisses the way that sight makes her insides clench and pulls out her own weapon, taking aim at the three thugs threatening the scared medical worker, who Jane assumes is the doctor.
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Seeing that all attention is now on Jane and her team, Garrus moves with fluid speed and grace, pulling out of cover and turning the corner and taking a single shot that flies over the doctor’s shoulder and hits its target right between the eyes.
Jane quickly opens fire on the remaining three thugs, now disorganized and easy to pick off with a throw, followed by each team member taking a shot. Within moments they fall and she approaches Garrus and Dr. Michel as he helps her up off the ground where she dived for cover.
Once up and left to dust her clothes off, Garrus turns to Jane. “Perfect timing. Thanks to you, I got a clear shot at that bastard.”
I’ll say. No wonder you’re a sniper. She’s never seen him in action, but if this is usual of his skill then she has to admit his confidence is well earned. He acts fast and efficient, a damn good soldier and not just because of their private relationship. “That was a nice shot. You took him down kill and quick.”
He nods with a mandible flick. “Sometimes you get lucky.” Yeah, luck. Cocky bastard. He turns to the doctor. “Dr. Michel, are you hurt?”
She shakes her head emphatically. “No, no. I’m quite alright,” she says in her thick accent. “Thank you,” she turns to Jane, “thank all of you.”
“Who were those guys,” Jane motions to the dead bodies. “I take it they were here for a lot more than medical stims.”
The woman softly strokes a hand against her ear length hair, seeming to try to flatten any wiry strands from her scuffle. “They worked for Fist. They were trying to scare me into not telling Garrus about the Quarian.”
That gets Jane’s attention. Such an odd person to be the target of a criminal organization just screams intriguing. “Quarian? What would this Quarian have that Fist would want so badly that he sent in a group to hold you at gunpoint?”
“A Quarian came into my office with a gunshot wound. She wouldn’t tell me what happened and she seemed really scared, like she was running from something, or someone.” She drops her eyes and shakes her head, her hand still shaky. “She wanted the Shadow Broker. Wanted to trade information for safety.” She turns to Garrus with wide eyes. “I don’t understand… I gave her Fist’s contact… I thought he worked for the Shadow Broker.”
Jane catches the subtle shift in plates that usually signals more frustration as he turns away from the doctor. “Fist works for Saren now. Pissed off the Shadow Broker too.” His mandibles flicker in agitation and his eyes narrow. “Whatever that Quarian knows, it’s enough to have Saren after her…”
“Then we find the Quarian,” Jane decides. Garrus’ eyes relax and she makes a split decision, let Anderson, and whoever else, complain later. “You want to take Saren down too, right?” He nods with a confused brow shift. “Join me and we’ll take the bastard down.” She, once again, ignores the huff from the woman at her back, the visible lax in tension he’s had since the Council Chambers making her too happy to be bothered.
“We aren’t the only one’s going after Fist,” Garrus says as they take their leave of the clinic and approach the terminal. “The Shadow Broker sent a Krogan bounty hunter to collect on Fist’s head.” She turns to him with a raised brow as the terminal calls in a vehicle, quietly asking to continue. “Odds are he’s at C-Sec Academy… He always tends to bring attention to himself whenever he’s here. I’m sure we can catch him before he leaves, see what information he has on Fist.”
Jane agrees and sets their destination for the Academy, luckily finding an air car big enough to fit four heavily armed soldiers in full armor with some bit of comfort. By comfort, she only means not having to sit on someone’s lap, but it’s a step in the right direction.
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Thanks to all humans having bad hearing for low subharmonic, the two of them look like to soldiers packed into a tight bench seat and not two lovers secretly sharing a comforting press of bodies and devoted subvocals.
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