Head Over Tattered Sneakers, Ch. 62
It's been... awhile since I updated, becausse *gestures to life in general*
But here we are, a year and a half later, with more Bex shenanigans. Enjoy!
“Wow,” Kaidan began, clearly trying not to stare, “you, uh—”
“Look like you got stabbed in the face by a hundred tiny blades,” Morgan finished when he faltered. Bex stifled a laugh when Hackett reached over and smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow.”
“You’re not wrong, exactly.” She shifted from side to side, staring at her boots to avoid Hackett's gaze the same way she'd avoided Zaeed's. “The fight with the Shadow Broker was… intense. But that's one name crossed off the list of people who want me dead, so I'll call it a win.”
“Close call, according to Massani’s message,” Hackett said. “He mentioned that you didn't take your commandos with you.”
Bex rolled her eyes and finally raised her head to look at him. “We took them to the base, but the Broker had some sort of plan, and they got locked out of his office, so it was just us and Liara. Just me an’ her, actually, after he knocked Zaeed out cold.”
“He joined in Karin’s post-battle nanny goat nagging, so yeah, I'd say he's just fine.” Bex shrugged. “A little sore, probably has a raging headache, but he'll be right as rain in a couple days. He'll be touched that you care.”
Morgan snickered and sidestepped when Hackett glared at him.
“So what can I help you gents with today? I know you didn't call just to stare at my face. Well,” Bex nodded to Morgan and Kaidan, “at least you two didn't.”
Neither even cracked a smile before they glanced at each other, at Hackett, and then took a step back.
“We have a delicate situation,” Hackett said, “and we could use your help.”
“Steven, be serious. No one has ever put me and the word delicate in the same sentence unless they were taking the mickey.” Bex narrowed her eyes. “‘Sides, I'm not in the Alliance or a Spectre anymore. I'm not at the top of anybody’s Must Call list.”
“That may be true in most cases, but…” Hackett hesitated before continuing in a somber tone. “Garrett Kyle has reappeared on our radar.”
Bex stumbled back to sink into her desk chair. “As in Major Garrett ‘I got cold feet on the battlefield and ran like a bloody coward’ Kyle?”
“Yes. We don't know what happened after he was given an honorable discharge—”
“‘Honorable’ my ass,” Bex muttered, covered by a cough.
“—after Torfan, but at present, he's set up a commune for wayward biotics.”
She groaned. “Not again… Why’s it always fucking biotics?” She frowned. “Actually, wait… Why is it biotics this time? Unless he got dumped in a vat of eezo in the last six years, Kyle's not…”
“No, he's not. But we’re under the impression he… identifies with them.”
Bex stared stupidly at the screen for several seconds. “In what way could he identify with biotics?”
Hackett held up a hand. “I know, it sounds ludicrous. My own impression is less that he identifies with them, and more that he identified a group of outsiders who needed a guiding hand. Or something to that effect. In fact, he now goes by Father Kyle.”
“This should be bloody brilliant then.”
You can find the rest of this beast of a chapter here. Comments, kudos, reblogs, etc. are always welcome.
