12/29/2013

The man that both Kaidan and Garrus had suspected to be the contact they were after was suddenly by Kaidan's side, leaning casually against the bar. The uniformed man nodded at the bar's tender when she noticed him, still serving something on tap to a middle-aged marine woman with one arm and an easy smile. Kaidan tried to keep his posture casual as he observed the man eying off the multitude of colorful bottles beyond her shoulder.

Kaidan glances back in Garrus and Shepard's direction, annoyed that they had not offered him some form of warning in regards to the man's approach.

He can see why they had not had the opportunity.

Four men have joined their table; one sitting far closer to Shepard's side than a well-meaning stranger aught to. Another has his hand resting casually on Garrus' shoulder, his right hand hidden from view at an all-too-odd angle. The turian's posture is stiff, his mandibles pulled back, revealing pointed teeth.

Kaidan forces himself to breath again, his hand naturally falling to where his pistol is holstered at his thigh. He does not draw it, but neither does he fight the natural impulse to fight, over flight.

The other man's light brown eyes snap back to met Kaidan's own, his lips pulled up at the corners in amusement.

"More lager, Commander?" the man asks.

It does not surprise Kaidan that the man knew who he was; that was the point, most of the pub now did. It did surprise him that the man knew what he had been drinking before the fight had broken out between himself and Shepard.

This man had them pegged from the moment they had walked in, probably the moment Garrus had.

They could only hope that Shepard's cover hadn't been blown. As soon as her return became public knowledge she would be scrutinized from all fronts. They wouldn't have another chance like this to find out what those people had wanted with Shepard. How they had known about Shepard.

They had to deal with this as quietly as possible.

Kaidan's hand falls away from his pistol, his face set in a stern grimace.

"I prefer not to drink on the job," Kaidan responds tartly to the man.

The man smiles, a dry humorless thing. He waves away the bar tender's attention, shaking his head.

The man had closely cropped brown hair, not uncommon in their line of work. He wasn't overly large, but neither was he frail, his posture straight and confident. He was of average height, his skin was moderately tanned, and his features were extraordinarily ordinary. There was the promise of calculating intelligence in the set of his eyes, but nothing more set him apart from any other Alliance man or woman in the pub.

"I don't want any unwanted attention here," he begins suddenly, his voice devoid of his earlier casual cheer. "And I know that you are of the very same mindset."

His eyes dance towards where Kaidan knows Shepard and Garrus sit.

"But I do believe that it is about time that we all have a friendly chat," he finishes.

Kaidan can't help but smirk. A man didn't engage in conversation by cornering ones teammates. Not friendly conversation, anyway.

"Then speak," Kaidan responds.

"What I have to say is for Shepard's ears too," his says through a smirk, shifting his weight against the bar.

Kaidan can't help the concern that takes ahold of him momentarily. He fights it off. They knew that they would potentially be dealing with people that knew about Shepard's escape from the Batarian slavers. At least this man was putting his cards out on the table. Now Kaidan knew a bit more of who he was dealing with, even if it wasn't nearly enough.

"What I am proposing is mutually beneficial, Commander," he man continues, pushing away from the bar. "You came here for answers. I am prepared to give them. I would strongly advise hearing us out while you can."

There were definite positives to continuing this conversation elsewhere. Shepard would be safe from the Alliance patrons recognizing her should it come to violence. But then, in an environment of this man's choosing, they ran the risk of entering odds that were not so much in their favour. Here they had the obvious advantage. Who knew where this man intended to take them.

"I'm listening, aren't I?" Kaidan presses, his voice raised.

Kaidan makes no move to follow. The man pauses at Kaidan's words, looking over his shoulder with a lazy smile. His men have left Garrus and Shepard's table, making casually for the exit. Shepard looks annoyed and Garrus wears an expression of calm curiosity. They both stand from their seats, making in Kaidan's direction with a sense of urgency. He notices one of the smaller men placing a gun back into the waistband of his cargo pants.

"This will not escalate, Commander," the man promises, reading between the lines. "Let us all return to your Normandy, and we can talk there. Away from prying eyes. Yes? You shall call the shots. As I said; I merely wish to talk."

Kaidan's hand trails back to his thigh, his pistol's weight comforting.

The man continues on after his four companions, not bothering to check if Kaidan follows.