Oriana had never felt at ease during her family's short time on Illium. Sure, it looked nice, but she kept getting glimpses of darker and more sinister things which made her nervous. Especially the examples of 'indentured servitude' that kept cropping up around them. Her father had told her that such contracts were very carefully regulated and that mistreatment of the contractees was frowned on. They could call it what they liked, but to Oriana it was still more or less slavery.
After hearing about that, she kept having nightmares about being shut into a small room and forced to sign a thousand-year contract.
"Hey, Oriana, wanna check that store out?" The question came from Jason, a sandy-haired boy who'd she'd met during the voyage to Illium. The trip had been fun so far, in spite of the fact that it was yet another move by her family to yet another whole new colony. The colony names all blurred together after a while. The new one they were heading for was called Ferris Fields, or something like that. Oriana had once tried to gently suggest to her parents that some more stable career choices on their part might be nice for the family, at least until she and her siblings were all grown up. But somehow they all still kept getting moved.
Oriana missed her friends. She knew that she would find new ones, she always did. But for now she felt vulnerable and adrift. Jason had come along at just the right time. It also helped that he was cute, if a little too pushy about getting physical. She didn't mind being with him in public, but she for sure wasn't going to let him get her alone.
They were at the moment in a bustling commercial sector of Nos Astra, and Oriana was in the midst of being a little overwhelmed by just how many different aliens were around. Previously, she'd seen maybe five asari her entire life. But now they were everywhere around her. Not to mention the huge plodding forms of elcor, the squat waddling volus, and the occasional suited quarian. She'd even seen a few hanar floating around. One had been stationed on a street corner and telling anyone who'd listen about 'The Enkindlers', which she supposed had something to do with their religion. Her innate curiosity had made her ask the hanar a few questions about 'The Enkindlers', which seemed to please the floating jellyfish-like alien enormously.
Jason's question brought her up short, but then she saw him pointing at a nearby model shop. It was the kind of thing she liked; Oriana wasn't shy about admitting she loved spaceships. "I would like that," she said. And it was an ideal place to go. The shop was public and there were plenty of people in there to keep Jason from getting too 'handsy'. Not to mention that there were lots of cool ship models to look at. What could be better? The boy grinned at her and slipped his arm inside her elbow. That was getting a little too close for comfort, but she allowed it for now. He was kind of cute, after all. Maybe a little short for her, but she didn't want to be prejudiced about such things. Just as they entered the shop, some sixth sense made her turn and look behind her.
She saw a human and a turian staring right at her. As soon as they saw her noticing them, they looked away and began casually strolling along the street. She turned back and told herself to not be ridiculous. Her kidnapping nightmares were just from her stupid subconscious, they weren't reality.
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Rentola peered into the gloom of the tunnel as the Big Wheel roared through the storm drain. He saw the flicker of headlights behind them. "The mercenaries followed us in," he mused into the intercom. "It looks like our little misdirection failed."
"Not entirely," said Chakwas. "Their air crew is following Garrus, and the police are now in full alert. Something about a mall getting smashed up somewhere. It sounds like the Blue Suns behind us were more or less chased into the tunnels. So we'll have police down here as well after a bit."
Rentola saw a huge flash behind them. There was then a sudden, almost deafening bang at their right rear and the Big Wheel lurched alarmingly to the left. "They're using heavier stuff now," said Karlon from his driver's position. "I think they're pretty much ready to blow us up at this point."
Rentola stripped off his goggles. "And now we're out of sticky rounds," he said. If he was the cursing type, this would have been a good time for it. "We do have some penetrating high explosive rounds, but I'm leery of firing them down here."
Chakwas nodded. "I agree. We could bring down the roof on the Blue Suns, but there's too much risk of hurting the police as well."
Rentola heard a dry chuckle from behind him. "You STG guys have great gear, but you've gotta learn how to improvise. That's the first thing they teach you when you reach N7."
The salarian commander turned and almost screamed out loud at the sight which greeted his eyes. Outwardly, he kept his face in check as he calmly asked his next question.
"Shepard? Where did you get that plastic explosive?"
The yellow-clad Spectre gave him a wink. "Relax, buddy. Really, I'm feeling a lot better." Shepard had procured a sock from somewhere and was fitting it over the aforementioned lump of high explosive. Rentola could just see the metallic wink of a detonator embedded in the C4. Shepard then reached under his seat and pulled out a little can of machine grease. He began smearing the sticky grease over the encased explosive, humming all the while.
Rentola almost wanted to try to grab the bomb out of the human's hands, but something in the set of Shepard's shoulders told him that would be a Very Bad Idea. The manic expression which Shepard had previously worn was gone. It had been replaced with the laser-like focus that Rentola remembered from Virmire. He dared to hope that the Spectre of old was back and ready for business.
Shepard held up his final creation. It was an oozing, nasty-looking lump in his hand. Both of the human's hands were now also thoroughly coated with grease. "There we go. A chunk of C4, one sock, some grease and a remote detonator package. You wanted a sticky round? You got it." He set it down and now Rentola saw that there was another nasty-looking lump on the floor by Shepard's feet.
"Um, that's great," replied Rentola. "But there's no way we can fire those out of our cannon."
Shepard smiled at him. It was a small smile, but then Rentola caught just a little flicker in the human's eyes. He realized that there was a towering rage hidden behind that smile, a fury which made his own anger look like that of a petulant child. The salarian was suddenly quite glad that he wasn't the target of that fury.
"Oh you sweet summer child," said Shepard. "Who ever said anything about firing them?"
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Corbin's own Team Alpha was now giving the krogan a very warm reception. The big alien crouched behind the tangled wreckage of the smashed-up van that Corbin had originally been using for cover. For the moment, the bastard was pinned down. Corbin edged his upper torso around the corner of the hotel and tried to get a bead on the asari. He gave up after a few attempts. The bitch was just too damn fast. "Team Alpha, keep fire on the krogan. Team Beta, switch to grenades and try to aim near the asari. At least make her keep her distance." He figured he could at least occupy these bastards until his promised reinforcements arrived. He clicked his comm back to the sniper on the hotel's roof. "Girard, do you have eyes on anybody else approaching?"
"Nope. We still have the asari on one side of the lot, and the krogan on the other. Hang on, I think I just heard something behind me-"
Girard's voice abruptly cut off, and Corbin could swear that he heard a faint crunching noise over the comm. "Girard? Talk to me, dammit-"
There was a crack and one of Alpha team went down. Half the man's head was gone. "Fuck!" yelled Corbin. He immediately knew where the shot had come from. "Enemy sniper on the roof! Everyone watch your six!" He could see several of Team Alpha look behind them up towards the roof. Of course, the krogan chose that moment to pop out from cover and let loose another blast from that oversized shotgun of his. Corbin took his own opportunity to give the krogan a nice long burst of fire. He was gratified to see the alien's shields go down and even see a little spurt of blood from high up on the alien's hump. The bastard might have redundant organs, but put enough bullets towards him and the alien could get shot to bits just like anybody else. The krogan ducked back into cover.
"Keep fire on the two on the ground," he commed everyone. "I'll take care of our upstairs problem." He turned and began scaling the wall of the hotel. Corbin was big, but he was also quick and agile. There were a lot of people who'd dismissed Corbin as just a big, lumbering oaf. A lot of dead people.
The hotel's wall had plenty of windowsills and eaves for hand- and foot-holds, so he managed to scale the wall inside of ten seconds. As he reached the top, he jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof with one hand. He hung there and fished out a flashbang grenade with one hand. He popped its pin and flung it onto the roof, trying to get it to land about where he would hide if he was a sniper. He followed that up with two more and then vaulted himself onto the roof as they went off. He dropped flat as he landed, trying to present as little of a target as possible. He crab-walked towards the front edge of the roof, where he figured was the most likely location for the enemy sniper. It wasn't easy going; there were a few air conditioning units and ventilation stacks that blocked his path and his sight-lines.
He approached the front of the roof. Sure enough, Corbin caught a flash of movement just as he saw his own sniper's prone body. Girard was definitely dead; his head was twisted around much too far on his neck. Corbin pushed himself up against a ventilation stack and then up onto his feet as he slung his rifle off of his back. He loosed a burst around the corner of the stack with one hand, and then spun around the corner and brought his rifle up to his shoulder. He ran forward to keep inside the effective range of the sniper's weapon.
He saw a green blur and then felt a blue-tinged punch which smacked his rifle aside, followed by a precise kick that knocked his weapon a good twenty feet away. Corbin acted on pure instinct and instead of hitting back he leapt at his attacker and grappled him in a bear hug. He felt rather than saw his opponent's weapon also go spinning off. They both went down onto the roof in a tangle of limbs. Corbin felt random bits of gravel scrape against his armor as he stared into a pair of black, expressionless eyes. He drove his forehead forward and felt a satisfying thud as his armored skull met unarmored flesh and bone. There followed a forceful kick from his opponent that threw him clear.
Corbin rolled and smoothly regained his feet. For the first time he got a really good look at the sniper. It was a drell, one only wearing some sort of leather trenchcoat. The alien had both of his hands over his face, and red blood trickled out from between his fingers. Corbin almost ran to get his rifle, but then the drell dropped his hands. The sniper's face was a mask of blood, and his eyes were shut tight against the blood. The mercenary realized he had a chance to put this bastard down right now.
Corbin didn't waste time taunting his foe, that was a rookie move. He silently drew his knife and stabbed towards the blinded assassin. It was a smooth, fast, and utterly deadly attack. The blade's point approached the drell's stomach...
...the drell swayed to the side, almost as if by accident. Corbin's knife missed completely. The force of his stabbing attack took him a little past the drell, but he recovered with alacrity and slashed the knife in an arc back at his opponent. He kept the blade low, trying to gut the bastard. The drell seemed to react in slow motion, and swayed backwards with a graceful arch to his back. Corbin felt a brief moment of triumph. He was as fast as the sniper, and the bastard couldn't see. This was going to be easy-
Somehow his knife blade...missed again. Corbin could swear his knife tip barely caught the edge of the drell's coat. The sniper had somehow dodged just enough. He staggered a little from the unexpected lack of resistance and saw green hands grab at his knife arm. Before he could react, he heard a crack and felt an unexpected explosion of pain from his right wrist. He heard rather than saw his knife drop to the roof. Corbin roared in rage and swung his other gauntleted fist down at the drell's head in a hammer-like blow. The alien flowed like vapor around the attack, and Corbin found himself suddenly launched in a graceful arc through the air that ended with a weighty crash into the roof. There was a sheet of fresh, agonizing pain from his left side. The drell had used the throw to dislocate his shoulder.
Corbin finally panicked. He tried to roll onto his back. If he could draw a bead on the bastard, he might be able to land a kick. Before he could complete the roll, he felt something grab his helmet. The last thing Corbin felt was an irresistible twist and a crunch from his neck.
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Jack heard gunfire interspersed with the occasional whump of Samara's shockwave. She also heard a lot of panicked yelling. Jack held out a hand and tried to summon an aura; the resulting biotic display flickered more than she'd like. Sure enough, she must have gotten a couple of lungfuls of that damned gas. The ruckus behind her trailed off into silence, and Jack decided to risk taking a look.
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Mercenary bodies lay strewn everywhere around the hotel. Samara and Grunt stood talking together at the far end of the parking lot. Grunt then jogged over to the hotel and simply smashed his way through the wall. She wanted to yell and tell them not to bother checking, but decided to let them have their fun.
She sat back down and leaned against the car. Now that the adrenaline was draining away, she was beginning to really feel the pain from her injuries. Her foot in particular felt as if on fire. Jack closed her eyes and rested her head against the car. She heard a quick step beside her, and opened them again to see Samara.
"How are you holding up?" The justicar was breathing easily. Her only sign of expended effort was a little sheen of sweat on her brow. Jack saw that she'd even managed to keep any blood off of her armor.
"I'm doing better." Jack stood up, and felt another spasm of pain from her broken foot. "Though I think I'm still a little messed up from that gas. Hey, I was able to do that thing. You know, increasing my whaddyacall, metabolism. I don't ever want to try that again, though. It just about cooked me."
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Harper took in a ragged, instinctive breath as he came to and immediately regretted it. He coughed weakly. His vision was blurred, and there was the stink of gunfire everywhere. He couldn't see much around him other than green vapor. His injured shoulder still throbbed, and his ribs felt like a rhino had done a tap-dance on his chest. Harper blinked, and his vision cleared a little. He could hear voices talking a little ways away. He thought that Subject Zero was one of them, but he wasn't sure.
Just in case, he had to keep as quiet as possible. He slowly rolled onto his chest and tried to push himself up. There was glass and debris strewn all over the pavement as far as he could see. But a flash of metal caught his attention. He stared in amazed hope at his gun, which lay only a little ways away from him. Harper began crawling towards the weapon.
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Jack saw another shape emerge from the darkness. The shape moved so silently that, even looking right at it, Jack somehow couldn't believe it was there. The shape resolved into Thane. The drell was cleaning blood from his forehead with an antiseptic wipe. "Greetings, Jack," he said, and actually smiled at her.
"Heya, lizard dude. Are you okay?"
Thane shrugged. "I am a little slowed from my condition. Nothing I could not cope with."
"Thanks for coming to save my ass. I heard there's been big doings back at the ship."
"Yes," replied Thane. "Much has changed. But our mission has not." He turned to Samara. "Garrus's distraction was partially successful. Shepard's team is on the way back, with only ground pursuit remaining. Garrus and his team are almost here."
"We should be ready to move fast," replied Samara. "I'm sure our enemies will be sending reinforcements."
Thane nodded. "Garrus sent us coordinates to rendezvous with them. We'll then head for the Normandy."
The hotel door opened and Grunt emerged. He lumbered over to their group. "There is no one left inside. Jack was...quite thorough." The krogan turned and regarded her. Jack nodded at him and smiled. She saw he had a minor cut up on his hump, but otherwise the huge alien didn't seem to have a scratch on him.
"Heya, Grunt. It's good to see you too." Jack gave one of the krogan's meaty shoulders a hefty pat.
She was suddenly taken aback when the giant alien knelt and bowed his head to her.
"I saw what you did," said Grunt. "Shepard is still my Battlemaster, and I shall follow him to the best of my ability. But if Shepard should fall in battle and I somehow survive, would you accept me as your pupil? I would be honored to follow a warrior of such quality as yourself."
Jack wasn't sure what the hell to say to something like that. She looked at Samara with a questioning eye. Samara nodded, as if to say go with it.
"Sure thing, Grunt," Jack said. "But let's not talk about Shepard dying, okay? Somehow I don't think that dude is very easy to kill."
"Agreed," said Grunt. He stood and gave her a searching, direct look. "You are strong. It is an honor to have you in my krantt."
Samara stepped forward, close to Jack. "We should-"
There was a harsh cracking noise. Several ugly-looking metal darts suddenly appeared high on the side of the justicar's neck, just above her choker. She made a shocked grunting noise as she fell to her knees.
Thane spun like flowing smoke and cracked off a shot. Jack whirled as well. It was Harper, the ratlike bastard in the gray suit. At Thane's shot, Harper grunted and dropped his pistol. He now had a very neat hole through his gun-hand's shoulder. Thane's finger tightened on his trigger, getting ready to fire again. This would be a kill shot for sure...
"No!" snapped Jack. Thane dropped his pistol but did not drop it fully as Jack strode forward. She relished the terrified look in the gray man's eyes. "I made you a promise, buddy," she snarled. "So say it. Say my name."
In spite of his hopeless position Harper still gave her a defiant look. "Su...Subjec..."
Jack responded with a casual backhand which drove him to his knees. It should have thrown him ten feet, but in her defense she was still recovering. "Say my name," she repeated. She kicked him over onto his stomach.
The gray man tried to roll himself onto his back, apparently trying to get up. "Subject-"
Jack lined herself up, swung one leg back, and kicked his balls like she was trying to drive them into orbit. Harper's breath simply seized in his throat. Jack dropped to one knee next to him and drew back one fist.
"Last chance," she said. "Say my name, and I'll finish you quick."
The gray man got his breath back. "JACK!" he screamed.
"You're goddamn right," said Jack. Her joyful anger flared in her stomach, an anger made manifest by a steady blue light around her fist.
She then drove that fist forward and punched straight through Harper's skull.
Jack stood and shook the brains off of her hand. It was interesting how blood made everything so damn sticky. "Rest in hell, motherfucker," she muttered. Unfortunately, her satisfaction was short lived. She heard the whine of several aircars followed by the crack of gunfire. The Blue Suns reinforcements had arrived.
And when Jack looked over, she saw that Samara was still down on her knees and looking very pale.
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Jesperson slipped another rocket into his launcher. "Okay, everyone hold constant speed and bearing until I get this missile off."
"Understood," said his driver.
"Got it," commed the vehicle behind him. Jesperson opened his window. The interior of the car was suddenly filled with the roar of engines echoing off of the concrete walls of the tunnel. He threaded the launcher out of the opening and then leaned out himself. He held the weapon up to his eye and was glad to see that its IR scope showed his quarry clear as day. They had gotten much closer, and there wasn't any way he could miss at this range.
"Hold still, you fucks..." he whispered. He fired, and saw a bright flash which reflected off of the blurred tunnel walls. The rocket roared towards its prey.
He stared in disbelief as the black vehicle slipped to the side, then kept going up and around. It hugged the round roof of the tunnel like a spider. His rocket went right through the space where the black vehicle had been. After the rocket had passed, the vehicle continued its circuit around the tunnel and then settled back down. It continued racing down the tunnel as if nothing had happened.
"FUCK!" he yelled, and slid back into his seat. He began fumbling for another rocket. "We need to get closer!" he yelled into the general comm. There was a brief light from ahead which caught his attention, but by the time he looked up the light was gone. It was almost as if someone on the vehicle ahead had opened a hatch and then closed it again. He could swear he saw somebody on top of the salarian vehicle. "Hey, does anybody see anything on top of-"
There was a loud thump as a figure in yellow armor leaped onto his hood. Jesperson had time to look up into a pair of furious blue eyes before he heard another, smaller thump. The yellow figure scuttled up the windshield, and Jesperson's car rocked as his attacker jumped off towards the Blue Suns vehicle behind him. he looked down in confusion. There was a brown, oozing lump stuck to the hood of his car. "What the hell was-"
There was a roar behind him, and the tunnel was now filled with light and noise. Jesperson twisted his head around in a panic. The other pursuit vehicle was a twisted, flaming wreck bouncing along through the small amount of standing water on the floor of the drain. He suddenly realized what the lump on his hood was. Jesperson didn't waste time in shouting a warning. He just threw open his door and tried to jump out, heedless of the danger posed by their speed. He managed to get almost all the way out of the car before their own sticky-bomb exploded.
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There wasn't anybody suspicious-looking when they came out of the model shop. Jason was still insisting on holding onto her arm, and Oriana was about to tell him to drop it. Cute or not, he was getting kind of clingy.
"What should we do next?" asked Jason.
Oriana thought through the question. They had an hour or so before they had to meet up with their families. She was still pondering when she heard a gentle voice.
"Oriana Brewster?"
She turned. The speaker was an asari in some sort of white armor. She had a friendly smile on her face, and her hands were spread out as if to show she wasn't armed.
"Um, yes?" Oriana almost immediately regretted admitting her name.
The asari sighed with relief. "Oh, thank the Goddess I found you. I'm Captain Enyala. My group is in charge of security for the section of the docks which includes your ship. I'm afraid there's been a bit of an accident involving your father. It's nothing serious, he's fine, but we were sent to get you." There were suddenly multiple white-armored figures that surrounded the two of them. There were two more asari, a turian, and a salarian.
Oriana unwound her arm from Jason's. "What happened? Can I comm him?"
"Not right now, he's in with a doctor. I don't know the details yet, apparently his foot was broken somehow. As I said, it's nothing serious. Your family's with him. We'd like to take you directly to the hospital."
"Um, I don't know-" Oriana thought that something smelled about this situation.
"Oh, don't worry about your friend. We'll make sure he gets back safe." Enyala nodded to the turian, who moved forward and took Jason's arm. Oriana had time to exchange one puzzled look with Jason before the turian moved the boy away with quiet efficiency. One of the asari followed the retreating pair.
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Garrus brought their newly-commandeered cargo van to a halt. The hotel should be in the next parking lot over, and it was separated from them by a little grassy ridge. He turned to his compatriots. "It sounds like the mercs at the hotel called in backup. Zaeed, are you okay without armor?"
The mercenary snorted and gave a twisted smile. He hefted his flamethrower. "Eh, I'll manage. What's the plan?"
Garrus pointed towards the hotel. "The location is there. The Blue Suns should be on the far side of the lot from Jack and the others. I'll get overview and vector you two in. Thane reports that Jack is banged up but mobile. Samara's apparently been injured. Mordin, I'll clear a path for you to them. Get 'em both up and mobile. Zaeed, your job is to flank the mercs and get them to to panic."
Zaeed nodded. "Thanks, Garrus. It's about time I got to give instead of receive."
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Rentola slid open the side door of the now-stopped Big Wheel and looked back. The tunnel behind them was filled with smoke and flaming wreckage, and beyond that he could just make out some flashing blue and red lights. Then another movement caught his eye as Shepard came loping through the piles of the twisted metal. He was dragging one of the mercenaries behind him. The latter human was definitely unconscious from the boneless way he flopped around, and his armor was dented and charred. The foot that Shepard held appeared to be twisted in the wrong direction. Shepard reached the Big Wheel, and got ahold of the merc's shoulder. He casually slung the big armored load into the vehicle, then grabbed the edge of the door and pulled himself back in. "We're all done here," he said calmly. "Let's move. Anybody got a towel?"
One of the STG tossed Shepard a cloth, and the Spectre began calmly cleaning grease off of his hands as the Big Wheel sped away. He rocked slightly with the acceleration, but otherwise gave no notice.
"Who's our new friend?" asked Rentola.
Shepard knelt by the motionless mercenary and pulled off one of the man's gauntlets. "He managed to get clear of the blast. And he has something I need." Shepard stripped the omni-tool off of the man's forearm, then looked towards the front of the Big Wheel. "Hey, doc? Do you mind if I take shotgun for a bit? I have a couple of calls to make."
Chakwas nodded and unbuckled herself. "What about the mercenary? I'll see what I can do for him, if that's all right with you."
Shepard shrugged. "Go right ahead. For now all I need is his omni-tool. If he lives, I'll interview him as well."
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Enyala and the asari now flanked Oriana as their group walked through the crowded streets. The salarian walked behind them to watch their backs. Oriana had a nasty suspicion that the latter was really there to keep herself from running in that direction. She kept thinking through her options. If she raised a ruckus, she was sure that Enyala would hit her with a surreptitious taser and then claim that 'the poor dear fainted. She is worried about her father, after all'. Oriana could try to quietly comm somebody, but the problem with omni-tools was that they weren't subtle at all. And that would lead to the taser again.
No, she would keep her eyes open and try to make a break for it as soon as possible. They moved into a larger, more crowded space. Several people even pushed into the middle of their group, including a purple-suited quarian who bumped into Oriana.
"Sorry," muttered the quarian, and moved on. Oriana was struck with a sudden thought. She hated to stereotype an entire race, but there were so many stories about quarian thieves. She shoved her hands in her pants pockets, and was relieved to find her credit chit still there.
"Everything all in order?" asked Enyala cheerfully.
Oriana nodded. Wait a minute...not only was her chit still present, there was also something new in her pocket. It felt like a small slip of paper.
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"Hey," said Jason. "Maybe I should call my folks and let them know about Oriana?"
The turian shook his head. "Nah, we'll be back at the docks in five minutes. No need to get everyone worried over nothing."
Jason realized that he'd somehow been steered into a side corridor with nobody around. This really didn't look good. Maybe he should have raised a fuss back when he was with Oriana. That had been a public place, after all. He glanced around. The armored asari was still on his other side. She didn't look pleasant anymore. Now she looked at him like he was nothing more than a pathetic annoyance.
Jason decided to press the issue. "I just want to let them know that-"
He heard a grunt from behind him, and he turned just in time to see the asari go down. The blue-skinned alien twitched as if she'd been hit with a taser.
The turian spun and shoved Jason into the wall, hard. The impact with the wall drove the air from Jason's lungs, and he sank down onto his knees.
The turian spun again. There was nothing in view. The corridor was brightly lit, and there was nowhere to hide. The turian suddenly jerked as if he'd taken a blow to his side. He lunged, apparently trying to grapple with an invisible attacker. But his claws closed on nothing. The turian jerked again with another invisible blow, then his head snapped up as if he'd been struck right under the jaw. He slumped against the wall, and then another unseen punch drove his head around. The turian was now down and unmoving.
The attack had taken all of four seconds.
Jason pushed himself up, using the wall for leverage. He stared around in confusion, then flinched in fear as a hooded form suddenly appeared in front of him. Jason was not tall, but this apparition still only came up to his chin.
"Move, you idiot," snapped the newcomer. "Head for the docks. Do not use public ways. Do not use comms. They're monitoring. Do you understand?"
Jason nodded. The hooded form vanished like smoke, and then Jason felt a final invisible shove which sent him running for his life.