[b][i]Illyria, Elysium, two weeks ago…[/i][/b]

[i]bang bang bang[/i]

A trio of shots rang out in rapid succession, the mass effect field protected target down range illuminating a bright cyan two close circles in the middle of the batarian silhouette’s ribs, and one more centered between all four eyes. Of course, the target’s façade and general aggressive disposition didn’t change; it simply looked like a black and white soldier locked in a never-ending stasis field, snarl permanently etched upon his features as he stared blankly through the shimmering shield at his assailants.
 
It was one thing Sabinus Tannyx had a hard time understanding about the humans he trained; they never chose to look at the targets as an actual life they were trying to snuff out with precise and uncompromising gunfire. Despite the horrors inflicted upon Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz, the security officers under Marshal Lamond’s employ never seemed to have the imagination to look at the target as anything but a two-dimensional cut-out… which was ironic, considering how many seemed to have no issue ignoring the men and women they slavered over in a Fornax magazine weren’t something they could interact with and could not do more than stare at static images or short video.  

And yet, pornographic material was able to ignite the imagination and provide tantalizing stimulation whereas the image of an enemy who had ravaged their homes, killed loved ones, and actively provided motivation to not grow complacent in a galaxy where life was often cheap and expendable somehow eluded their ability to picture the target as an actual enemy, one they might have to slide an omni-blade through the ribs of or bash in his skull with the butt of a jammed rifle. It was for that reason Sabinus conducted team on team fire exercises with training rounds and hand-to-hand fighting drills. Humans seemed to respond better when a crisis was upon them rather than actively preparing for it, the turian decided.

“You know, you’d think I’d be used to how well you can make that Kestral sing by now.” Marshal said, watching as Sabinus cleared and deactivated the weapon, the pistol collapsing as he set it down on the bench in front of him. “It’s going to be a damned shame to lose you. Still can’t make you change your mind, eh?” he asked with a melancholic smile.

“A turian on a human world was bound to overstay his welcome… not too many of your personnel are keen to spar with a turian who kicks their ass every single time.” He said with a toothy grin, the flanging of his voice adding a distinct contrast between the two friends. Born from two different worlds, two different people, Sabinus often wondered what Marshal saw when he looked upon him; a hard carapace, a pair of mandibles, a towering stature, and pointed teeth were enough to have the alarm bells in the human’s head scream “dangerous predator” or “unknowable alien”, but Sabinus had never experienced anything but kindness and warmth from Marshal and Lucy Lamond, a ready acceptance and ability to look past what he was and see [i]who[/i] he was that still made the turian flush with shame; it wasn’t that long ago that batarian target had been a human one for him, and he was willing and able to kill the strange and dangerous aliens his people had had a brief conflict with. He knew he wouldn’t have been the first to extend a hand in friendship and acceptance, even though he nearly gave his life to save them. It was duty, nothing more. But for the Lamonds, it was a kindness they had spent so long trying to repay.

Sabinus sighed, turning to face Marshal. “You’ve been good to me, the clarity and acceptance and purpose you’ve given me… your friendship.” He gently corrected himself. “Life here is idyllic, peaceful, and dare I say enjoyable. But we both know I can’t let the attack on the Citadel be brushed off as a freak, once-in-a-lifetime fluke; I have a duty I need to do. There’s a lot of people out there like Lucy and yourself who don’t have a stubborn alien friend to take a bullet for them, and I want to do what I can to make sure that they will never have to find out they need one.” He smiled tersely, shaking his head.

“We turians take our role as galactic peacekeepers seriously, and if I can find out about the next Sovereign hiding out in the darkest corners of the galaxy, maybe I can give warning before something like the attack ever happens again. I may not wear a uniform anymore, and I might be operating outside of the law and Hierarchy jurisdiction, but I’m going to do my duty regardless. Besides, who doesn’t like sightseeing?” Sabinus chuckled.

Marshall nodded. “I know you don’t believe me, but I understand. Part of why I founded this company on this planet so far away from the Systems Alliance or Citadel Space wasn’t done out of a desire to get rich. The Skyllian Blitz proved that someone needs to stand up when there’s a void.” He said, setting a case on the table. “A parting gift. Open it.”

Curious, Sabinus opened the case with a thumb, an M3 Predator with a curious cobalt blue finish shone pleasantly in the shooting bay’s light. 

“Lucy wanted to do something a bit more ostentatious, but I’ve seen your quarters; you live a Spartan existence when you don’t have to. Instead, I had it tuned and modified more towards competition specifications than the stock military configuration; new sights, a much better trigger, new turian ergonomic grips, a much more efficient heat sink, that sort of thing. Only liberty I took was the finish is made out of alloys that are unique to Elysium; you can take a part of home with you.” Marshal said, gesturing. “Go on, see how if you can make it sing.”

Picking the pistol up, Sabinus studied it in his hand, admiring the craftsmanship and just how [i]new[/i] it was; he’d never had even held something that felt like it never been shot before, let alone one that had been tuned by armourers for spirits-knows how long. 
It was comfortable, and it opened smoothly in his hand as it activated with an easily accessible thumb control. It was hard not to smile; it was a thoughtful gift that felt uniquely like a human take on a turian pistol. It felt appropriate. 

With a sudden movement, the batarian was lined up in the ghost ring sight with ease. He took up what little slack the trigger had, and it broke cleanly.

___

[b][i]Omega, now…[/i][/b]

The Predator pistol dug into a human man’s neck, his hands held aloft as he was pinned to the wall by Sabinus’ forearm. The turian was well aware his friend also had a cheap volus shotgun pointed at him, a turian youth who wasn’t much older than the target of Sabinus’ ire, who looked to be in his early 20s.

Omega brought out the worst in people, and this certainly wasn’t how he wanted to handle this situation, Sabinus decided, but Omega demanded reactions rather than relying on rules and decency. 

“Easy, scar-face; my friend will gun you down if you do anything stupid.” The human warned with a cocky smirk that was cut short by Sabinus’ armoured arm being driven further into his neck, causing him to choke. 

“This isn’t going how your usual shake-downs go, is it?” Sabinus asked through his visor, his voice amplified through the helmet’s speaker. “Lone traveller with a big locked hard case must seem like easy pickings. Your friend might take a shot, but if my kinetic barriers don’t give out, how long do you think it would take me to deal with him when my finger only has to move a few millimetres to deal with you?” 

“Put the gun down, kid. This isn’t worth the trouble.” Sabinus said.

The tension ebbed considerably as the shotgun went down. For his part, Sabinus stepped away from the human, who rubbed his throat, pistol still in hand. This was the moment to gain control over the situation. “I can’t let you have my belongings, but generally people don’t do something so risky unless they really needed the money. Let’s cut a deal.”

“I’m listening.” The human replied cautiously, looking up from his hunched over position. The other turian simply watched, stone-faced. 

“500 credits to each of you if you escort me to the hanger I’m heading towards. Neither of you strike me as a bad kids, just survivors in a harsh environment. I’m not going to reward you for your stunt, but I will pay you for services rendered. Nobody gets hurt today, you do a good deed for compensation, and I go on my way. It’s the only outcome where you get anything of value.” Sabinus explained.
After a pregnant pause, the two hooligans looked at each other. The turian shrugged.

The unlikely trio carried on through the streets together.