Rebirth The Mass Effect is old

Theoretically, I knew where to look for the irrepressible Turian. Really, first I should go to Cora's Lair and talk to Harkin, a former security officer who was kicked out for drinking. He'll tell me where Garrus is heading, but the feeling that I'm LATE has been boring into my brain since the Council, so I spit on the drunk and pulled over at the terminal of the nearest taxi, quickly scrolling through possible destinations. There were some... Tens of thousands! There are hundreds of clinics... Which one is the one I need? All I remember is that the key character is Dr. Michel. Damn it! How do I find the RIGHT clinic?! Okay, stop! Why am I being stupid? This is a real world, not a linear game! It turned out to be quite easy to find Vakarian's number.: The lists of C-sec employees were quite accessible to the Alliance military, and there were contact details opposite each name. After dialing the required number in my omny-tool, I sent a communication request with the words "Garrus, respond urgently!"Hopefully, the nimble guy would notice him and deign to respond BEFORE he got involved in an unequal battle. I walked in circles by the taxi and slowly sat down, torn between the desire to drop everything and drive to the nearest clinic and shoot a Fist! The omny-tool suddenly lit up: a direct incoming call symbol flashed on a small holographic panel. “Shepard's on the line!” “This is Garrus Vakarian.” The Turian's voice was muffled and very quiet. “Where are you right now, Garrus?” “I'm sorry, Commander, I won't be able to meet you right now...” “I'm offering to help.” “Clinic 38-12, residential area.” He replied, confused. “Wait for it! I'm flying out immediately!” The connection went out, cutting off the uncertain words of refusal. What else! Jumping into a small flyer, I chose the right destination and leaned back in a fairly comfortable seat. There was a situation... Not too good. My weapon is a light pistol, barely capable of pushing through an average kinetic shield, no armor, no cover. From the asset - Garrus in light armor of the C-sec. As far as I remember, he had an assault rifle and a heavy pistol strapped to his back before the Council meeting. I hope he will be so kind and share a normal weapon. There is no point in calling the fighters from the Normandy, and they simply won't have time. The taxi parked at the clinic's door, gurgling at me to signal the end of the journey. Avina's tedious electronic voice began broadcasting about the Citadel and offering to take an excursion. Later! Everything is later! The clinic turned out to be a fairly large complex, larger than a full-fledged colonial hospital. This is not two game rooms, but a full-fledged hospital, living its own life: staff were scurrying past me, patients and visitors were walking, someone was chatting with friends, someone was kicking ass, someone was harassing doctors, at the counter some crumpled guy was arguing with the doctor on duty. In general, it is a normal hospital suffering from an influx of patients and a shortage of staff. I found out the location of Dr. Michelle's office by simply stopping a girl in a medical uniform who was running past. Pretty azari pointed out the office I needed on the clinic map right on my omny-tool, not forgetting to inform me that the doctor is currently busy. I thanked her and assured her that I wouldn't bother her and quickly went to the elevator. And then the canon came into force again. The door to the doctor's office was ajar, and I slipped into the waiting room without any problems. Voices were heard in the examination room: rude, masculine, full of superiority and menace: “Do you understand me?!” “I... I..." the woman's voice, trembling with fear, could only belong to Dr. Michelle. “When Vakarian appears, behave yourself! Keep your mouth shut, otherwise we'll come back...” It's time. Activating the pistol, I entered the examination room. In a small rectangular room stood a short, pretty red-haired woman dressed in the standard white uniform of Citadel doctors and five big men. Fist's mercenaries. The mercenaries reacted quickly to the rustle of the opening door: the mercenary who was talking to the doctor wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her to him, hiding behind her back, while the others grabbed their weapons. “Who are you?!” With a startled cry, I pressed my hand to my chest. In the second one, I was holding a pistol ready for battle, but behind my back, and the mercenaries couldn't see the weapon. To the left, by the support column, I saw Garrus. The Turian's mercenaries hadn't noticed him yet. Amazing stupidity! “I... I...” I move slightly to the side so that after the turn of the thug looking at me, the hostage does not block Garrus' firing. The Turian was watching me intently, but appreciating the maneuver, he nodded gratefully, raising his pistol. “Raise your hands!” “Yes... now!” Step aside. Garrus darted out from behind a pillar like a shadow, raising his pistol. The roar of the shot merged with the scream of the mercenary, who saw the weapon in my hand, and I already pulled the trigger, shooting at the blinking man, frozen against the wall. My shots were lost in the bluish haze of the shield, Garrus took down the human mercenaries with three accurate shots to the head. The shield disappeared with a pop, and my bullets finally hit their target, piercing the Salarian's chest. I've always been infuriated by those pop-eyes. The deactivated weapon whistled softly, and I tucked the pistol into my belt. The Doctor stood in mute shock in the same place and in the same position in which she had been shot by Garrus, and at her feet lay a corpse with a bullet through its head. A heavy bullet entered the idiot's forehead and tore out the half of the skull at the exit, smashing somewhere into the wall. “Michelle?” I approached the woman, cautiously peering into the terrified face. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?" The woman woke up from her stupor. “W-who are you?” “Commander Shepard, Alliance MSF.” Garrus answered for me, tucking the weapon into the fastener on his back. “You've chosen a very good time.” I smiled. “It was a perfect shot.” Garrus blinked in embarrassment, twitching his mandibles. “Oh, yeah... Sometimes you get lucky...” “And that's what a born sniper tells me!” I shook my head, turning the corpse onto its back. “Four shots offhand, all right in the forehead. What kind of luck are we talking about? Compared to you, half of the fighters I know suffer from congenital strabismus and lack of eyesight.” After removing the assault rifle from the fastener, I carefully examined the weapon. “Thank you for your help.” The Turian shifted nervously. Oop-pa on! I could have blushed, I would have blushed. I smiled at the guy, tucking the captured Stinger into the belt of my service weapon. “Not at all, Garrus.” I waved it away. “Michelle, what did these idiots want from you? What shouldn't you have told Officer Vakarian?” The doctor nervously rubbed her hands, looking hungrily at the Turian. “Commander...” “Michelle.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, drawing the frightened woman's attention. "You don't have to worry about their master anymore. It's a Fist, isn't it?” Chloe nodded. Irene promised her that after their visit to this undoubtedly colorful person, he would not bother her anymore. I didn't lie. After my visit, I'm afraid there will be no one to bother. So Michelle really doesn't need to worry about the attention from this asshole anymore. “He didn't want me to mention the Quarian.” The doctor said quietly but confidently. “Dr. Michel.” Garrus's rumbling voice was deliciously soothing, like a purring cat. “Tell me what happened.” Michelle sighed, hugging herself and slowly walked over to the large viewing window. “A few days ago, a Quarian woman came to my office. She was shot at. With polonium bullets.” The doctor turned around. “She didn't say who did it. It was obvious that she was very scared. Probably on the run.” Garrus and I exchanged glances. “She asked me about the Shadow Broker.” Garrus started, but I wiggled my fingers a little, telling him to be quiet and not confuse the doctor. The guy nodded slowly. “She wanted to get asylum in exchange for information.” Michelle didn't notice our silent negotiations, walking back and forth. “I gave her a Fist contact. He works for a Shadow Broker.” “Not anymore.” Garrus said sharply. Michelle blinked in surprise. “Has Fist betrayed the Grey Broker?” There is an abyss of amazement and disbelief in the voice. “It's stupid even for him!” I couldn't agree more. The influence of the Shadow Broker is enormous. And Fist would have figured it out quickly. If he hadn't crossed our path. “This Quarian has something.” Garrus purred thoughtfully. “Something to betray the Shadow Broker for.” “Perhaps this information will help prove the betrayal...” I met Garrus' gaze, burning with understanding and excitement. “Did the Quarian say anything about Saren's Spectr? Or about the Geth?” “Spoke.” Michelle stopped abruptly, interrupting her nervous running in a circle. “Something about the Geth. The information she was going to sell was related to them.” “So it's time to visit Fist.” I purred, meeting the bright lith blue eyes burning with anticipation. And Garrus is an adventurer! As if he decided to confirm my conclusions, he gave me this miracle: “This is your investigation, Shepard. But I want proof as much as you do! I...” The Turian stammered, not knowing how best to offer his help. He was rejected too often. Grinning, I looked into those expressive lith blue eyes and just said: “Join us.” I don't like it when such strong-minded beings humiliate themselves with requests. Garrus nodded gratefully. “Shepard.” “Mm” I looked at the guy questioningly. “We're not the only ones who need a fist. The Shadow Broker hired a Krogan named Rex.” “The liquidator?” In response, a short nod. “So we have to hurry.” “Rex is currently at the C-sec Academy.” said the Turian. “Fist filed a complaint that he had threatened him. And we detained him.” “That means he's going to be stuck there for a while. But still, it's worth a hurry.” The distant corpse had a butt sticking out over its shoulder, and damn if it wasn't a sniper rifle. Stepping over the body, I jerked the corpse over. Precisely! After removing the weapon, I wiped the blood and pieces of brain off it, critically examined it, and tossed it to Garrus. The guy caught it reflexively and stared at me in surprise, blinking his eyes questioningly. “You're a natural sniper.” The expression on his face caused an uncontrollable attack of emotion! Childish surprise and no less childish joy from an unexpected gift, gratitude and excitement. And HOW he held that weapon in his hands! Like a treasure! “Shall we go?” A dozen grenades slipped into his pocket and disappeared into his shapeless military trousers, as if they had never been there. A moment later, three packages of panacelin fell into the same place. Garrus watched my marauder with interest, but without surprise or disgust. I pulled out the drugs from the second corpse and tossed the package to the Turian. Garrus caught it, the medicine dissolved somewhere in the bins of his armor. "Bark's Kora." It was here that Garrus dragged me in search of Fist. However, it makes sense, because this bar belonged to a not entirely reasonable person we were looking for. The Lair was greeted with a roar of music, conversations, shouts and cursing. The place was working as expected. The sensible ones were boozing and staring at the half-naked Azari strippers, someone was cleaning someone's face in the corner, in separate booths, cute Azari were writhing in a sensual dance on small catwalks. A high-tech but banal strip bar. Garrus cut through the crowd like an icebreaker. Men of different races swore and were indignant, but they did not dare to cross the path of the evil Turian in armor. There were bouncers at the doors to Fist's private quarters: a Krogan and a human. “Where are you going, Turian! This is private property!” There was an undisguised threat in the Krogan's deep, booming voice. I came up from the side, smiled affectionately and showed my hands, showing that I was unarmed and put my palm on the massive shell, tickling the delicate skin with my fingers. The Krogan was freaking out. “Well, why so rude?” Suddenly, a grenade clenched in my fist beeped in my hands, getting into combat mode. The Krogan was petrified. A small metal disk slid easily behind his collar. “Oh, I'm so clumsy... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... You have thirty seconds, handsome.” my purring voice sounded surprisingly loud. You can start dancing a striptease. With a spark and an explosion... emotions. I've always dreamed of watching it. The Krogan shied away from me, quickly disappearing into a small room. I smiled no less affectionately at the second bodyguard. “Mmm... Handsome, are you sure you want my attention?” The disk of an assault grenade flashed between his fingers. “She's not normal...” The mercenary muttered. “I love you too.” My leering grin seemed to contrast too much with my kind-kind voice... The indicator on the door blinked and changed to green. The doors opened and we went into a small hallway. Garrus was silent, looking at me strangely. “Is something wrong, Garrus?” “It was... suddenly.” The guy gurgled softly. “But I didn't have to kill those assholes.” There was a muffled explosion somewhere nearby. I grinned at him. “I hope the adorable Krogan can undress quickly. If not...” I spread my hands. “The sadness. Okay, we're joking and that's enough. Is the fist there?” I nodded at the door. “Yes.” Garrus intercepted the sniper. “Come on, let's go. And try not to expose yourself.” To the questioning look in her lith blue eyes, I said: “Rumor has it that Fist has a pair of turrets.” Garrus blinked, but took note of the information. That asshole really had turrets! When the hatches in the floor opened, and I saw two tripods rising with the muzzle still lowered, the grenades seemed to fly out of my hands by themselves. Demolition! One turret sparked, skewed and fell, but the second one was cocked... A sniper rifle shot rang out nearby. The turret swayed. The second shot! A heavy bullet shattered something in the bowels of the deadly machine, it sparked, smoke billowed, and the turret shorted out completely. And a panicked voice came from the room: "Wait! Don't kill me! I give up!” That brute! I spat on the floor. Garrus growled in frustration, but he didn't lower his rifle. Under his cover, I slowly entered the room, holding a massive man in light black armor at gunpoint. Fist twitched. I fired reflexively. The blue shield film did not appear, Fist howled, crouching on his shot leg. “I need information.” I said calmly, aiming the gun at the pussy-faced brute. “Tell me where the Quarian is, and then maybe I'll stop shooting you in the foot.” The rifle in my hands jerked, Fist screamed. “What are you doing?!” “You're healthy. You legs are long, and I've had a hard day. Speak!” “She's not here!” “I can see that.” The gentle tone was replaced by steel. “I do not know where she is! I'm telling the truth!” The rifle jerked again, shooting through his left leg. “You're lying.” I said softly. "You have another leg. It's still intact. You have three seconds. Garrus came over and looked at Fist lying in the blood with an indifferent look. The long muzzle of the sniper rifle was pointing straight at the man's forehead. And now this jerk realized that the jokes were over. And he began to speak, choking on the words: “She's not here! She said she would only talk to the Shadow Broker! PERSONALLY!” “It's impossible. The Shadow Broker only works through agents.” Garrus cut it off, and I was amazed at how cold and raspy his voice had become. Fist wrapped his arms around his injured leg, trying to stop the bleeding. I dropped the panacelin syringe in front of him. Let him be happy. He grabbed the package, tore it open, and stuck it right into the bullet hole in the armor. “No one meets with a Shadow Broker. Never! Even I do not know who he is! But the Quarian didn't know that. I said I would arrange a meeting. What a brute! I exchanged glances with Garrus. His blue eyes were dark with anger and blazed with rage. “Farther.” “They'll be waiting for her there.” “Where?” Fist faltered. I waited for exactly one second, after which I kicked the wounded limb heartily. The man howled. “The place! Where?” “Here! In residential sectors!” Fist croaked. “The alley behind the markets!” “When?” “Now!” Fist grinned. "If you hurry, you might make it." I raised the rifle. “I promised Michelle that you would never bother her again.” “What... NO!” The rifle roared hollowly, hitting me in the shoulder with the recoil. The bullets shattered his head, instantly turning his fear-stricken face into a bloody mess. “Too many sentients have died because of you for you to live.” Lowering the rifle, I turned to Garrus. The Turian looked calmly, with a degree of academic interest, looking from the dead body to me and back again. “Don't you approve?” I raised an eyebrow. The rifle in his hands folded up and went into a non-combat position. “It was... the best solution to the Fist problem.” “I'm glad you understand.” I smiled. "Sometimes only death can bring you to reason. Come on, Garrus, or we'll be late for the meeting between the Quarian and Saren's envoys.” The name of the Spectr had a miraculous effect! Vakarian roused himself, nodded, and walked forward. To my lazy objections, the Turian quite rightly pointed out that he was the only one wearing armor. I didn't argue. As I was leaving the bar, I noticed the Krogan bouncer. A burly mercenary was treating his nerves with some kind of brown mutter at the bar, and inexcusably negligently turned his back on me. I couldn't miss such an invitation! His wrinkled and slightly singed face fell sharply when the Krogan, who was gawking, heard a sacramental message in his ear: “Handsome!” and the quiet squeak of a grenade being cocked. “You undressed so fast that I don't even know...” My fingers caressed the neck of the numb Krogan. “Is ten seconds enough for you this time?” The Krogan choked on his drink, and the cold disk slipped out of my fingers and down his neck. I watched with a smile as the terrified, burly Krogan frantically pulled off his combat jacket. The grenade slipped out of his sleeve and fell to the floor. Inactive. “A keepsake! Don't forget me, handsome!” Blowing a kiss to the stupefied bouncer, I grabbed the numb Garrus by the elbow and dragged him out of the bar.