Chapter Text
commissioned artwork of Kaidan Alenko and Dr. Rhys Shepard by xla-hainex on tumblr
2183, Eden Prime
A soft hum fills the research lab, a lilting and musical sound but one just shy of organized song. Originating from no particular piece of music, there is a soothing element to the tune nonetheless.
Dr. Rhys Shepard braces his arms on the table as he examines the artifact before him, searching for rhyme or reason to the script etched around it. The humming pauses briefly only to resume a moment later – just long enough for him to jot down a few notes on the datapad within easy reach.
The music resumes as Rhys circles the table, eyes following the lines of script and catching the artifact at another angle, his inspection continuing. Behind him, the door scrapes with just a hint of a metallic squeal and booted feet scuffle inside. Rhys doesn’t flinch. Indeed, he doesn’t react at all, his full attention devoted to the object in front of him as he searches for understanding, for knowledge.
“What’s up, Doc?”
The humming breaks off sharply to silence…
…then begins again. Interruptions are the norm in his line of work. If he can’t work through them, nothing gets done.
Grabbing the datapad again, Rhys jots down another note before allowing his lips to curl and a soft snort to escape. Only then does he glance over his shoulder at the newcomer. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?” he inquires in a lazy drawl, brow arching upward.
Blue eyes wide as if startled by the accusation, Sara Ryder blinks innocently. “Do what?”
Holding her gaze intently, Rhys catches the barest flash of impishness mixing with innocence. She holds her composure well. The last time Rhys had witnessed such a good attempt at trying to slip one by him had been back during graduate school.
Folding his arms across his chest, he levels his best cool, professorial stare upon her. He has the height advantage, especially while sporting his Stetson. However, though shorter by almost a foot, Sara is spunky. The slightest shift of her arms and hips and she adopts a similar stance to his, refusing to back down…
…until her lips twitch at the right corner.
Rhys knows he won. Another lazy grin slides across his face as he murmurs, “Gotcha.”
Eyes widening just a fraction, just enough to broadcast her dismay, she mutters, “Shit!” then spins around, turning her back to him. Not before Rhys spots an answering grin.
Joining her, Rhys nudges her arm gently with his elbow. “Close.” She huffs softly. “Much closer than last time.”
Her bangs flutter out of her eyes as she puffs a soft breath from her lips. Tilting her head up at him, a hint of hope shines. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
With a deep sigh, she rolls her shoulders. “Well, I guess that’s something. You’re harder to get that kind of thing past than Scott is.”
Sara often shares stories about her twin with Rhys during downtimes. He finds their antics amusing, if somewhat immature. Still, they are young, just starting to figure things out for themselves, and there is plenty of time for them both to learn. And, when it comes right down to it, Rhys can admit he’s a little jealous. He grew up as an only child.
At least you aren’t going through the same kind of hell I did to get where you want to be. That’s gotta count for something.
“Should be a breeze for you next time you see him.”
“Maybe.”
He’s just reaching for his datapad to continue his notes when a rough, raspy rumble of someone pointedly clearing their throat fills the air. Startled, Rhys jumps and Sara’s hands move out of instinct to her hip as they both look around.
Recognition comes a moment later, relief filling Rhys’ chest. He tips his hat politely. “Chief Williams. Come on in.”
“Hey, Doc. Ryder.” Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams steps inside the prefab, a warm yet slightly hesitant smile on her lips. “Just passing by and thought I’d check in. Hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”
Laughing softly, Rhys shakes his head. “No, unfortunately. No major breakthroughs since your last visit.” He sighs; therein lies the problem. “Sorry to disappoint you, but –”
He frowns as he realizes she isn’t dressed in her usual casual clothing like on her previous visits. Full armor and weapons harness this time. Hmm. Adopting a casual tone, he asks, “Something we need to know about, Chief?”
Williams shrugs. “We’re on protection duty today,” she replies as she takes a step to the side.
Beyond her, Rhys now identifies three other soldiers sporting Alliance armor and weapons; about half the people the Chief normally patrols with. “We? Where’s the rest of your unit?”
She smiles. “They’re there, trust me.” She crosses the room to his side and lowers her voice. “Doc…”
The hint of uncertainty in her dark eyes puts Rhys on edge. “Yeah?”
Pulling a pistol from her hip, she hands it over to him. “Here. Just in case.”
Rhys stares at the weapon for a second. It’s not his weapon of choice and Williams knows that. But he’s made do with worse, so he nods his thanks and takes it. Whatever is going on, she wants him armed, and that tells him far more about the situation than anything. She hands over extra rounds of ammunition which he pockets. Keeping his voice low, he asks, “What aren’t you telling me, Williams?”
Sara steps closer as Williams chews on her lip, glancing back and forth between them. “Look, all I know is the two-twelve has been assigned active protection duty around the dig site. No idea why. Could be a drill, could be an active threat.”
It wasn’t a drill. In the weeks he’d been here, Rhys hadn’t heard of anything like this before.
“We’ll be patrolling the outer perimeter. On the off chance something gets past us…” She looks up at him for a long moment, then over at Ryder. “I’ve heard rumors you know your way around a weapon. That true, sir?”
Rhys sighs and dips his head in acknowledgement. “Prefer my grandfather’s shotgun, personally, but this’ll do.”
A male voice from outside calls out, “C’mon, Chief, we need to get moving.”
Williams’ smile tightens into a thin line as she sighs and turns away. “Stay safe, Doc. Ryder can help with that, too, I’d imagine.”
“I can,” Sara says, speaking for the first time since Williams’ arrival.
At the doorway, Williams glances back one last time. “I’ll be in touch if I find out anything more.” She’s gone in a heartbeat, the door scraping closed behind her.
“You never said you can handle a weapon.”
It is not an accusation so much as an observation, but there is a hint of disappointment in Sara’s tone. Rhys examines the pistol. “Grew up in cattle country on Earth,” he explains, “but left all of that behind me when I started school.” Which, thinking back now, seems like a lifetime ago. Two, maybe. “Had my fair share of run-ins with wolves, coyotes, cattle rustlers.” He finds a smile and winks over at her on that last one, but she shows no open reaction, and briefly he wonders if he’s lost his touch. Either that, or she has no idea what a cattle rustler is. No time for a history lesson right now. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“No wonder they wanted you on this dig then.” Her head tilts slightly to one side. “Alliance holds the reins, but they only need a token peacekeeping force to keep you scientists safe.”
“Hardly.” It irks him just a little that she sees the truth of it so clearly. He can’t say the idea hasn’t crossed his mind since he accepted this assignment. Of course, another more cynical part of him wonders if maybe his mother didn’t hear about it and force the opportunity in his direction. He certainly won’t put it past her, though what she hoped to gain out of it was beyond him. He has no proof, one way or the other, only a deeply buried irritation and the fact that they haven’t spoken to each another in over a decade.
Whatever the reason, whoever might be behind the offer, there’s still the fact that news of prothean ruins on Eden Prime presents a chance, academic and scientific, that Rhys can’t afford to pass up. He’d like to believe the Alliance came looking specifically for him. With that in mind, to refuse the opportunity would have been professional suicide.
Okay, so he might have been just a little too eager in accepting it. Like a kid in a candy shop given free reign without any thought for the resulting tummy ache or cavities. He’s still a relatively new name in the field. Finding ways to get his foot in the door and establishing himself among his peers is always a challenge. This opportunity not only gives him that chance, but also provides the leverage necessary to really make a name for himself in the field.
At least, that’s his hope.
Rhys grabs his denim jacket while shutting down the equipment before turning back to Sara. “Come on, we should probably go check in with Dr. Warren and Manuel, make sure they’re aware of the situation.”
Sara follows him out of the prefab, hustling to keep up beside him. “What’s to tell? We don’t have a specific threat yet.”
“No but being on alert and aware of your surroundings is a good start,” he counters. “And who knows, maybe they know something we don’t.”
~
“Huh. I wonder why they moved the beacon this morning?” Sara muses as they exit Dr. Warren’s office. Unconcerned by the news of increased patrols, the doctor and her assistant refused to alter the group’s routine in any way. There’s still too much research to be done on other items from the site and too little time in which to complete it. “I thought they were going to wait until the rest of the items were evaluated and take them all at once?”
Stetson in his hands, fiddles with it as they leave, anger and bitterness roiling inside of him. He knows damned well what’s happening but voicing any complaint about it only puts him in a bad position among his peers and risks ruining his reputation instead of building it.
Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
Swallowing back his irritation, he offers a far less satisfactory response instead. “Guess they want to do more tests than the equipment they have is capable of.”
Sara senses the silent request to drop the subject or she’s smart enough to let it go. Either way, they start back in the direction of his lab in silence. Normally, Rhys would just exchange one topic for another – a convenient way to fill the void with mindless chatter and direct it away from anything important – but he’s distracted in a not so good way and that only feeds his fury.
He's never worked with Warren before, but knows her by reputation: intelligent, sharp, by the book. Based off their limited interaction during this dig, Rhys adds narrow-minded to the list. Unwilling to think outside the box at the potential bigger picture. Also, cagey. There is no doubt in his mind at all that she is attempting to direct the entirety of the finds from this site to her lab back on Arcturus.
His downward spiral started the moment he realized his conversation with Warren headed downhill. Smart enough to understand nothing he said could or would change her mind, he and Sara left. It was done; there wasn’t anything he could do to change it.
Trying to let the conversation go and put it behind him, however, is more of a challenge than usual. He’s been down this path before, but not in many years.
By the time he and Sara reach the first turn in the path, Rhys is startled to realize just how far he’s already sunk in a short amount of time. He swallows tightly, runs his hand through his hair, combing it back out of his face, and faces the reality head on.
The last time I fell this quickly was after…
Veering sharply to his left onto a rarely used trail back to his lab even though it doubles the distance, Rhys shakes his head in an attempt to free himself. Sara follows in silence. His old, worn cowboy boots kick up clouds of dust that billow around his ankles. Absolute bullshit, he mutters silently to himself. As they head up a hill, he shoves his hat back onto his head, pride pushing him onward at a long-legged, determined pace. Isn’t the first time I’ve lost that kind of battle, but if they think they’re going to stop me in my tracks, they’ve got a whole other battle waiting for them!
“Doc?”
Without looking back, he replies, “Need some fresh air, Ryder.”
Three paces later, he stops. Guilt hits him hard in the chest as she hustles up behind him, huffing softly to catch her breath. Great, now I’m taking it out on her. Turning, he gives her an apologetic look. “Look, Sara, you can take the other way back if you want. I just need…”
“H-hell no, sir, we’re not separating!” she insists, emphatically slicing the air between them with her hand while filling her lungs with huge gulps of air. “Es-especially not after we’ve been told to be on alert for trouble!”
And just like that, his spiral skids to a halt, or at least slows considerably. The ferocity in her eyes pulls a wry smile across his lips. The temptation to laugh is there, another clue that the spiral is fading, but afraid she might misinterpret it, he swallows it. There’s too little time left to deal with that on top of everything else. Instead, he finds a small smile. “Pulling rank on me, Corporal Ryder?”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re a civilian, sir.”
His lips twitch. “What does that have to do with anything?”
A wicked gleam sharpens her gaze as she stares him down. “And you know your way around a weapon.” Almost as if he has military training himself, they fall into step together as they continue back to his lab. “At least, I assume you can since you accepted the pistol Chief Williams offered.”
Rhys finds a soft chuckle and tips his hat brim with his fingers in acknowledgement. “Like I said, would’ve preferred a shotgun.” He gestures around their surroundings. “But Eden Prime is hardly the wilds of Wyoming.”
“Well, it’s good to know some stereotypes have survived throughout history.”
A bubble of honest to goodness laughter bursts from Rhys’ lips and Sara joins him. Reaching over, Rhys ruffles her hair a bit in an affectionate gesture of thanks, grins as she tries to duck away unsuccessfully, and then rests his arm around her shoulder. From the moment they met, Rhys viewed Sara Ryder like a little sister. Bright, curious and a way about her that pulls him out of just about any sort of funk. As they continue on, Rhys wonders if there’s any way he can make sure they get paired up on whatever next dig he goes on.
Cresting a hill, their laughter is quickly drowned out by shouts and screams of alarm and fear ahead of them. The spike of adrenaline is so strong, it leaves Rhys more than a little nauseous, but he immediately reaches for his pistol while Sara pulls her weapon free. Ryder takes the lead, and they scramble forward, cautiously scanning the area. Their immediate landscape does nothing to help their view, boulders and trees forming a natural wall between the side of the hill and the site below. While the exact threat remains unseen, the unmistakable sound of weapons fire kicks up in accompaniment to the voices crying out in terror.
Sara’s demeanor changes immediately; taut, no nonsense, military training kicking in, she uses her elbow to guide him off the side of the path amongst some trees and rocks. Rhys opens his mouth to protest, but a sharp shake of her head keeps him silent. “Whatever that is doesn’t sound good, Doc, and that means we need to be out of sight right now before we become targets!” She pushes harder when he’s slow to react. “Go!”
Rhys stumbles off the side of the path into the rocks and high grass. Sara moves ahead of him again, crouching low among the few trees and shrubs then gestures to him to follow. Using the terrain as cover, they slowly move toward in the direction of the lab.
The prefab soon comes within sight and they are about to step out of cover when Sara grasps his arm and yanks him low to the ground. “Get down!” she hisses, dropping to lie flat beside him.
Even as he settles on the ground, Rhys peers through the grass and shrubs, and for a moment he’s too stunned to breathe, let alone react. A number of mech-like creatures swarm the area, the electronic sounds they make just as piercing from a distance as if he stood next to one. It’s a language – one makes a noise, several others move around in response – but it’s one he doesn’t understand. The professional side of Rhys is fascinated to observe alien communications in such a manner, and he’s tempted to try and record the sounds on his omni-tool for later evaluation. Still, he recognizes the folly in such action since it would likely draw undue attention in his and Sara’s direction.
“What are they?” Sara whispers breathlessly near his ear.
Gripping his pistol tighter, Rhys shifts position until he’s on his hands and knees as he considers, descriptions from his graduate studies texts coming to mind. Even without pictures or sketches of them, he knows. “I think they’re geth.”
Sara freezes. “Geth? But…they’re supposed to be behind the Veil, aren’t they? Ever since the quarians left? That’s what they said in school.”
A sharp electronic squeal fills the air as one of the mech-like creatures turns its head in their direction, the light in its head flashing as if actively searching for a disturbance.
Shit! “C’mon,” Rhys breathes in a voice that’s barely audible.
They move quickly and as quietly as they can, scrambling away, but it soon becomes apparent the aliens have spotted them. Before they make it more than a hundred meters, the unmistakable whine of drones closes in on them. Rhys awkwardly gains his feet, grabbing Sara’s arm and yanking her up after him while he accelerates into a full run.
In one of those horrible moments Rhys has only ever been part of while watching old Earth horror vids, the path ahead of them seems never ending and completely bare of any place to hide. Sara occasionally takes aim at the drones whenever they move in close. All the while, Rhys searches desperately for somewhere they can at least use as partial cover, but there are very few options available.
“Got one!” Sara shouts in triumph over at him. “Still one left!”
The remaining drone continues shooting. After a near miss to his left, ducks sharply to his right then back to his left and then right again, zig zagging to avoid the shots.
The path eventually opens into a clearing and – thank God! – Rhys spies a rocky outcrop on the far side. Surging forward, Rhys makes a beeline for it while Sara shoots at the drone again. A soft, breathy whoop! indicates her success as he drops to the ground behind the rocks and Sara joins him in a breathless heap. “Shit!” she gasps. “What the fuck is going on?”
Rhys yanks his hat off and peers over the top of the boulder to scan the open field. Clear, for the moment anyway. Pulling up his omni-tool, he sends out messages to Warren and Williams.
Network error. Unable to send.
What the hell… Realization smacks him upside the head. “They’re jamming communications,” he mutters darkly. Running his hand through his dark hair before pulling both to cover his face for a moment, he reconsiders their options. Without a way to communicate, they are effectively stuck in place. “Shit! Can’t send any messages!”
“Neither can I,” Sara informs him. Breath coming a bit easier now, she moves into a crouched position peering over the top of the boulder. “Aaaaand…we’re about to have company.” She spares him a quick, concerned glance. “You up to this, Doc? Way I see it, we’ve got two options; fight as best we can with what we’ve got or keep on running.”
Rhys grimaces. Neither option has particularly good odds. “How’re you doing?”
“About tapped,” she admits. They’ve been running flat out for at least twenty minutes. “You?”
He pulls two protein bars from the pocket of his denim coat, handing one over to her and taking the other for himself. Only then does his free hand rise to check that his amp is securely in place. Old habits die hard. Vyrnnus, you bastard, I bet you never expected that to take, did you? “I’ll last as long as I can,” he assures her as he swallows the last of the food. Taking a moment to check the pistol, he tries not to think about how the lack of armor will hurt him if he gets hit. Barriers were never his specialty, and it’s been years since he actively used his biotics for anything remotely resembling battle. God alone knows how they will react to this situation. “Ready?”
She peers over the top again. “They’re entering the clearing. Two of those flashlight head things.”
Flashlight heads. Rhys smirks. Until they are certain of what those things are, it’ll do. “We’ve got this, Ryder.” He flashes her what he hopes is a reassuring smile and nods firmly in her direction. “We’re gonna get out of this. Both of us.”
Of course, he thinks some few minutes later as additional flashlight creatures arrive, he wasn’t counting on reinforcements. Of the original arrivals, the first one goes down easily enough and the second not too far behind. It’s clear the machines expect their attack, but they hit the two flashlight heads before they can set up proper defenses.
Or maybe they just don’t do defense?
Sara’s shot strikes the first one straight through the bulb in its head. Like any living creature that takes a headshot, it drops instantly while its companion jumps to the left with surprising agility as it squeals loudly in the electronic language Rhys overheard earlier. This close to them, he barely gets off his attack before slapping his hands over his ears to protect them.
Unfortunately, it triggers other side effects; the sharp pain that slices through Rhys’ head brings him hard to his knees.
“Doc!” Sara shouts while aiming and firing at the walking mechanical humanoid. She follows up her clip with a wave of biotic energy that shoves the alien away from Rhys hard enough to send it tumbling down the steep hill it climbed to find them. Kneeling beside Rhys, she asks, “Doc, you okay?”
He reacts on instinct, pain guiding him rather than logic as he pulls away from her with a violent shake of his head, pushes to his feet and loses his hat in the process. Stumbling awkwardly a few paces backwards, his back collides with the wall of solid rock which sends him back to the ground.
Rhys covers his right eye with his hand and presses as tightly as he can, the pressure offering a brief moment of relief that fades far too soon. “Fuck!”
A squeal in the distance is loud enough to concern them. Sara places herself between Rhys and the sound, crouching low in front of him as she levels her assault rifle, ready to fire. “We’re in this together, Doc.”
Gritting his teeth, he rasps, “No…go!” God, the pain is so severe he just wants to curl into a ball and die. It’s been years since he’s had an attack this bad. Focus is impossible, everything around him blurs to the point of obscurity. “Go!”
“I’m not leaving you!”
A machine appears at the top of the path and Sara fires without hesitation. The rat-tat-tat-tat of the rifle only adds to the pain. And then it stops. “I’m out of ammo!”
Rhys knows he needs to help, needs to pull his weight in this battle, but there’s no way he can aim when he can’t even see clearly. Even the idea of using his biotics is abhorrent, adding to the pain in his head just at the thought. Finding her shoulder, he shoves as hard as he can. “Go!”
She moves away, though he can’t tell which direction, and he only hopes she’s following his request. Another squeal followed by some clicking sounds have him covering his head again and curling into more of a ball. They’re moving in closer and there’s not a damned thing he can do about it.
Sara’s voice on the far side of the clearing – he thinks, anyway – breaks through. More clicks and squeals, but they turn away from him and Rhys digs deep into what little reserves he has left, forcing himself to his knees. Tears stream down his cheeks from the pain and do nothing to help with his vision. He stumbles away a step at a time, managing three before he roars in agony, pulling what dark energy he can to himself and shoving it in the direction of the machines, desperately hoping it makes some sort of contact.
He doesn’t wait to see – he can’t, and falls back to his knees, face forward as he lurches towards the ground, silently praying for death to take him quickly…
~
His first conscious thought is that his prayers go unanswered.
His head still aches something fierce and feels like it’s going to explode into itty bitty pieces, but even with that it still only takes him a minute or two to realize what he hears is weapons fire.
Human, Alliance weapons.
Either Sara found more ammunition, or she scared up some reinforcements. Maybe Williams and her unit? She’d said they would be patrolling the perimeter of the colony.
The throbbing agony in his head makes it a challenge to force his eyes open. Despite closed lids, the brightness of the day is obvious. Curling back in on himself with a groan, Rhys gives up on all sense of self-preservation lost. There is no way in hell he stands a chance now…
Something heavy and forceful pushes at his shoulder, attempting to pull him onto his back. Rhys fights it, curling tighter. Voices – more than one but too many to identify separately in his current condition – jumble together inside his head.
Sara? Williams? Dr. Warren? All he knows is they’re human or, at any rate, not the machines. One belongs to a male, lower in pitch, but there’s comfort in it as well. Smooth and steady, like a fine whiskey. It slips and slides closer to recognition, but stubbornly remains tangled with the others in his mind. Weakly, Rhys lifts his hand to shield his closed eyes…and is surprised when firm strength in the shape of a human hand wraps around it, squeezing reassuringly. He fumbles to adjust his grip, but the other doesn’t let go. The slightest of pain pricks finds the inside of his arm just below his elbow, still, Rhys can’t focus.
The voices continue around him. A minute passes. A second. The hand remains strong around his. At one point, he could swear fingers gently comb through his hair. Slowly, Rhys inhales, the stuttering breath filling his lungs…he calls himself all kinds of a fool at the thought. He’s imagining it, has to be. Only one person has ever done that to or for him, and they haven’t spoken in over a decade.
He takes another breath, less ragged than the last. As he exhales, the pain…starts to lessen. Another. Another. And another. It takes another couple of minutes for the worst of the agony to fade enough for Rhys to finally pry his eyelids open.
Instant regret has him slamming them shut almost immediately.
“Doc!”
“Sara…” His voice is but a rough and strained wisp of sound, but it’s something at least.
The hand around his loosens its hold and a smaller, more feminine one takes its place instead. “Talk to me, Doc.” Sara guides her other hand behind his back encouraging him slowly upright.
The last thing in the world Rhys wants right now is to sit up, but they are in the middle of a battle zone. If he wants to live, he must move. Whatever those machines were, there are no doubt more of them. Turning his head, thinking to shake it once, see if that might chase away the pain enough that he can concentrate on standing, he’s stopped almost before he starts. A hand, firm and strong, the same one from earlier, grasps his shoulder. Rhys swallows back a groan and blinks, turning to his right…until a voice stops him.
“Take it easy. Let the meds work first before you move.”
Recognition freezes Rhys with an icy chill. Eyes wide, vision still blurred, fights to get a clear look at the face. Unfortunately, the sun halos the man’s head, adding insult to injury.
I know that voice!
The form shifts, crouching at Rhys’ side out of direct sunlight.
He blinks as his throat tightens as his mouth goes dry. A familiar form, indeed! One he hasn’t seen in far too long, yet the man looks the same as the last time Rhys saw him. A decade older, perhaps, but the dark hair, the scarred lip, the whiskey-amber eyes – all the same. “Kaidan?”
Lips flattened in a grim line curve upward just a touch, enough to pass for a smile. “Rhys.” A small smirk tugs at Kaidan’s lips matched by a matching twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Didn’t recognize you without your hat.”
Hand flying upward, even before it lands on his hair, Rhys knows the hat is gone. To say he’s disappointed is an understatement. “Blame the flashlight heads.” Slowly, carefully, he struggles to his feet. Kaidan offers a hand which Rhys accepts after the briefest of hesitations. If he can let the past go, so can I.
The pain is still present but blessed numbness from the meds is quickly taking over. He wobbles a bit once upright. Kaidan ducks under his arm, sliding it over his shoulder like he used to so many years ago when they were at BAaT together.
One last deep inhalation helps Rhys settle. “What…where…” Another familiar face moves into his view, this one with a smile of relief that reaches her eyes. “Williams?”
The gunnery chief steps forward. “Glad to see you made it, Doc.” She darts a look over at Sara who moves in closer. “Had us worried there for a minute.”
Carefully, Rhys prods the back of his neck near his amp. Vague memories of one last biotic push blur in his memories and is supported by the ache he finds there. “Shit!” He glances over at Kaidan, notes the greater concern there. You’re the only one who really gets it, aren’t you? Wincing and grinding his teeth, Rhys cautiously shakes his head. “I’m…I’ll be good in a minute.”
“We may not have that long.” Sara retrieves the pistol from the ground and hands it to Kaidan who reloads it. “We have to find the beacon before the geth do.”
Geth. Rhys’ and Sara exchange a quick look. So, we were right after all. “The beacon was moved this morning,” Rhys shares. “They took it to the spaceport to be transported off world.”
Kaidan huffs softly, his hand gently patting Rhys’ shoulder. “Yeah, we are the transport.”
“We?”
With a nod, Kaidan moves from beneath Rhys’ arm and Rhys nods his approval. Balance is back, mostly. Taking the lead, Kaidan adds, “A lot has happened since you and I last saw one another, Shepard, but now isn’t the time for explanations.” He gestures at Williams who pulls a shotgun from her weapons harness and hands it over to Rhys followed by extra ammo clips. “Still know how to use one of these?”
Rhys stares at the weapon for a long minute. Too much is happening too quickly, and his head is spinning again. “Wait…you can’t just recruit me…” There is a hint of question at the end, but he’s almost certain the man can’t just up and recruit anyone he happens to find on a battlefield.
A deep, decadent rumble of laughter fills the air. Internally, Rhys groans. He remembers that laugh. God, he remembers that laugh. How many times over the past decade or more has he remembered the last time he heard it? Felt it vibrating across his skin? His lips? Other delightful places on his body? Lord have mercy, this can’t be happening! I’m done for…
The smirk returns in full as Kaidan drops his voice and leans in close. “What movie was it we watched that time?”
Rhys’ breath catches, eyes widening. He knows, knows, what’s coming next. “Don’t you dare…”
“Come with me if you want to live…”**
“Dammit!” Anger flowing through him, Rhys chambers a round in the shotgun. “Fuck you, Alenko!”
The smirk deepens and the man in Alliance armor has the audacity to wink at Rhys. Actually wink. “When, where, and how hard?”
Rhys chokes. Kaidan laughs. Sara and Williams share a confused look. Under other circumstances, Rhys might have winked back – it’s the sort of thing he once would have done without thought or hesitation – but seeing as they are about to fight for their lives, it’ll have to wait.
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the heat that fills Rhys’ face.
Surely dying at the hands of the geth has to be better than this…doesn't it?