Massive Disaster 5-11A

Recycled money had a taste to it.

Not literally, of course, because who would even?

Still, air that had been filtered, scrubbed and scented to this excessive degreee had the worst habit of clogging up your nose in a way that was annoying but that stopped just short of being poisonous. Either way, it made Zedd’s nose itch as he leaned back in the cafe chair, metal biting into his spine even through his coat.

His leg bounced, a syncopated rhythm tap-tap-tapping against the table leg at a pace not even close to the calculations running in the back of his skull.

Across from him, the complete opposite end of the table was quickly degrading into a pissing match.

“-on’t get to dictate protocol because you found a badge in a cereal box.” Jane Shepard was being… well, Jane Shepard, and considering Zedd had only known her for all of twenty-four hours, she had yet to change. Arms crossed tight over her ceramite hardsuit, the redhead’s voice was low and compressed, anger and tension bleeding out like a varren’s growl. “You’re a cop. Go with the other cops. We don’t have time for paperwork here.”

“Paperwork? I don’t see how paperwork is going to get Saren arrested.” The cop in question, the tough-looking Turian Kai had brought over, grated back at Jane. His tone was somehow softer than hers despite sounding so much harsher, a metallic rasp like a file against iron. “I’m not asking for a ride-along, Commander. I’m telling you the system is rigged and I intend to bring the bastard down.”

“We know it’s rigged, Officer Vakarian.” A hand raised itself up, John Shepard stepping forward to cut off his sister before she could escalate to threats. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Then let me help fix it.” The officer turned to look at the taller Shepard, obviously finding it easier than staring down nearly a whole two feet down at Jane. “And call me Garrus.”

“Well, Garrus…” John nodded, a smile on his face to match Jane’s frown. “What can you assist us with?”

A dull-gray datapad slammed down onto the center table, Zedd’s eyes — as well as several other sets — landing right on it. “I have a lead.” Garrus allowed a smile to cross his face, something sharp and eager that fit the Turian facial structure more than anything nice. “A quarian that’s got data on the Geth attack. Nothng like the smoke Saren’s been blowing up the Council’s skirt.”

“We’ve tried that.” Jane clicked her tongue, green eyes nearly rolling themselves out of her head. “The Council doesn’t give two shits about data. They’ll brush anything off to keep their precious SPECTREs in good standing.

“Weellllll…” Zedd shifted, his voice drawing all the eyes around to his person. “That’s not exactly what happened in there.” He eased the blue-lens aviators up the bridge of his nose, staring at a scowling Jane.

“The hell do you mean it’s not what happened?” Jane Shepard damn-near spat the words his way. “I was there.”

“And so was I?” Zedd scoffed back, even as Nina gripped his thigh. Yeah, yeah, I get it.

Pulling back the tone to allow Jane a smile that was a little less patronizing, Zedd put his hands up. “Let me explain before you bite my head off, Commander.”

He didn’t regret the choice of his words as soon as they left his mouth, but he still knew he could’ve chosen them better all the same. Especially as the table jumped with a pair of gauntleted hands slamming down onto it. “I’ll show you bite your h-”

“Jane.”

A word from her brother and the other Shepard twin bit back the rest of her words, everything she meant to say escaping through gritted teeth in a hiss. As green eyes burned his way, a calm blue also landed on Zedd, voice sterner than Zedd had heard it yet. “Explain. Quickly.”

His palms went up, Zedd nodding again. “Don’t let this pretty face fool you. I’m effectively in the same class as a lot of Terminus warlords. In a lot of ways, I’m worse because I haven’t really committed any overt crimes in the way the public would accept.” He allowed himself a shrug, squeezing Nina’s leg back. “Helps to have a good PR team and an eye for branding.”

“Is.” Jane hissed again, this time audibly. “There. A. Point?”

John sighed. “Is there?”

“There is and I’m getting to it.” Zedd’s answer came as quick as their interruptions as his palms came down flat on the table. “All I’m saying is the Council were up their own asses about my data. Mine.”

He tilted his head to the side. “And really, they’re not wrong to be. I could easily have edited at least a few things to make Saren look guilty… er.”

“Huh.” John slowly nodded, the man clearly unable to deny that. Blue eyes flicked down to the other Commander. “… I mean, he’s not wrong.”

“Whatever.” Jane clicked her tongue, eyes sliding over everyone else  — even the smiling Krogan — to land on Garrus again. “You.”

“Me?” Garrus pointed at his chest with one talon.

“Yes, you.” Commander Shepard jabbed a digit of her own his way, another added to it for good measure as it became an armored finger-gun. “How do we know you’re not fucking us over like the rest of C-Sec?”

Zedd leaned forward, hands clasping together as he focused on the Turian in front of him. He didn’t need to vocalize what he needed, the system in his specs doing what they did best — a blue wireframe painted over Garrus.

[Target: Garrus Vakarian] 

[Status: Elevated] 

[Cortisol: High] 

[Micro-tremors: Present (Left mandible, right hand)] 

[Pupil Dilation: Stress/Adrenaline]

“He’s desperate.” Zedd’s words dropped into the conversation like stones, eyes still locked on Garrus as the tennis match being played with attention returned the ball to his court. “Heart rate’s too quick to not be stressed and respiration’s rabbiting. He’s not lying, the warhawk’s just… pissed off.” His mouth turned upwards with a lazy tilt of his lips. “You can trust this guy, I’d bet a cool half-million credits on it.”

Garrus blinked, the blue marks around his eyes stretching. “How did y-?”

“Don’t worry about the how,” Zedd waved a hand, cutting him off before people could start throwing around questions. “Worry about the what. You said a quarian. Where?”

Garrus’s focus snapped back. “There’s a clinic down in the Wards. She’s down there, already took a stray hit running from her attackers.” 

“What?” Zedd sat up a bit straighter. If there were any aliens other than drell that he liked on principle, quarians had to be up there. Right next to the Lystheni, for being treated the way they were. At some point, he was going to unpack exactly why all of his favorite aliens were also the endangered ones but that wasn’t today. “What attackers?”

“The Shadow Broker put a hit out on her because of that data.” Garrus elaborated, snatching up the datapad. “If we don’t move, she’s dead.”

“Finally.”

The word was a rumble enough to shake the table as Urdnot Wrex took a step. Grinning like a dinner bell, the old krogan was a mountain of scarred plates and bad attitude. “Something to hit. I was getting bored listening to you soft-skins pass words back and forth.”

Jane clicked her tongue, fist meeting an armored palm. “Fine, we move. Wrex, Williams, with me. Vakarian, Alenko, stick to John. Zedd…” She narrowed her eyes at him and his crew. “Your crew stays here. You…” 

Two fingers jabbed themselves in his direction. “I need you in my line of sight.”

“Commander, if it’s not obvious…” Zedd rose to his feet, smoothing his coat. He looked back at Nina and Kira for a second, Kai once again nowhere to be seen. “I’m in a committed relationship.”

“…I will shoot you.”