"How much longer do you think it'll be?"

Kaiden turned towards the sergeant as she handed him a pretzel. Rather than answer her, the biotic took a bite of the confection instead and regretted it immediately. With tearful eyes he worked the flaming morsel down his gullet and gasped painfully, "As long as it takes."

Williams didn't respond to that, but Kaiden didn't need to look at her to know that she was less than pleased at his response. He couldn't exactly fault her for that; he was feeling less than pleased himself and not just because he nearly burned a hole through his throat. Both marines had naught to do but sit and wait, and wait, and wait some more for the commander to get back with proof of an impending galactic war.

Or at least enough proof to start one.

Kaiden took a more careful bite from his pretzel and eyed the office doors that the commander lingered behind. Ever since that muttering volus waddled out he and the sergeant had found themselves a bench to perch, only to watch the minutes crawl on by on their hands and knees. Loitering by the door was less than subtle and they couldn't afford to drift too far "touring" in case anything went sour, so here they sat: under a tree some middling distance between the brokers office and a gleaming monument in front of the artificial lake.

A brown eye slid towards that erection of metal and the ghostly silhouette of the Asari in front of it. Her body flickered as she spoke to a pair of aliens that looked to be genuinely attentive. The Krogan come from the deathworld of Tunchanka blah blah blah. They nuked themselves into an ice age blah blah blah. They were found and uplifted by the Salarians to destroy the Rachni blah blah blah. The Krogan exterminated them, won themselves a shining statue and a couple dozen choice worlds for their troubles.

Kaiden felt he could recite the whole speech from memory at this point. To his disappointment, the virtual intelligence didn't contribute anything new to what was already drilled into him during basic. He looked again at the hunchbacked giant looming over them all and grunted in thought. It was fact that the quasi's were the some of the roughest bastards the galaxy had ever spawned: tough, tireless, relentless…in other words perfect for winning a hopeless war but afterwards? Afterwards the Krogan fucked like jack rabbits and threatened to finish what the Rachni started.

The platinum figure seemed to shine with pride as he took another bite of pretzel. The Krogan Rebellions were almost on par with the First Contact War when it came to severity and length…which made it no less than astonishing to hear tell of the Council's refusal to smelt that triumphant figure into a toilet seat after they were brought back to heel.

Even with a dozen species screaming to the contrary then and now, "The Council felt it important to remember the valor of the Krogan people," it had said soothingly, as if Kaiden was one such naysayer. "If it were not for their sacrifices than the Galaxy would have been consumed by the Rachni hordes millennia ago, the Council felt that such a contribution to the continued existence of galactic civilization should neither be belittled nor forgotten."

That's so sweet of you he thought, the Krogan might even have been touched at the sentiment if you hadn't neutered them first. He had a feeling that the Council seat the Turians won for saving the galaxy from their predecessors only added salt to the wound. He was almost tempted to say as much to the VI but what was the point?"The birds are better at shitting in sync I'll give them that."

"Sir?" said Williams with an odd look.

"It's nothing sergeant," he said with a wave of his hand and the last bite of his snack.

Well…that and patience he supposed. He had no doubt that the disciplined, service oriented Turians proved to be a more reliable sort than their bloodthirsty and ill tempered counterparts when it came to peace time operations. He tried to imagine a quasi with that same level of self control and level headed nature...

The idea would be terrifying if it wasn't so absurd.

His snort of derision at that thought turned into a hacking cough as a particle of food went back up his throat. "You alright LT?" asked Williams with concern after Alenko swallowed it back down. "Just…thirsty…sergeant" he coughed out and stood up, "I'll be back with some drinks."

As he walked to that same stand from which his snack came from, Kaiden's eyes went back to the advisor's doors. Patience he told himself, but that was easier said than done. This is probably how the Alliance felt playing catch up for the first half of First Contact…but he shook his head when the thought crossed his mind, too many bad memories. The Alliance paid a high price to get on an even footing with the bats, but odds were high that the Broker would double that for his aid, and double again for having to go through one of those money grubbing walruses.

As he was getting the water, he tried to imagine a good cover story for himself and the sergeant. "Marines on shore leave" was the most obvious, but he supposed that there was room for further development…a couple on their first tour of the presidium maybe? Taking in the air and chewing the scenery? It had some merit he could admit, it'd justify their lingering about if anyone got curious enough to ask them…

"Thanks LT," she said as he sat back down and handed her a bottle.

"Kaiden's fine Williams, with what they charge for water here I'd be surprised if they didn't charge a chit to flush."

She laughed at that, "You can call me Ashley if you like sir," and as he took a swig of his water he eyed her. She took a sip of her own, but the way those dark spheres of hers roamed he doubted she missed anything. It was the moment she sniffed that Kaiden took in her whole features and felt an inexplicable urge to dismiss his previous idea.

"Everything alright sir?"

"What?"

"You kinda zoned out on me for a second there LT…do I have crumbs on my mouth?"

"No! No Ash, it's uh…if anyone asks…you got that during combat" he gestured towards her nose with his drink.

She gave him a queer look as she rubbed her nose, the bandage was still plastered to it but he could still make out the discoloration of her skin along its edges. Williams nodded slowly at him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Kaiden felt like kicking himself, and was going to preoccupy his mouth with water until the sergeant looked around him and stood up. The lieutenant turned around and felt seven different kinds of relief to see the commander walk out of the office.

Shepard looked around for a moment before spotting the marines and walked on over. "Been waiting long?"

"No sir" he admitted, but it sure as fuck felt like forever since you went in.

"How'd it go sir?" asked Williams, "Deal or no Deal?"

Shepard answered with a wolfish grin.

Straight back to Udina then, thought Alenko with a smile of his own.

"God I'm thirsty," said the commander.

"Here skipper," said Williams as she offered her drink, but the officer shook his head. "Sorry Williams," he said with a smaller smile, "I'm in the mood for something that can kick the taste out of my mouth."

That probably meant that whatever price the commander worked out was one that was going to be bought deep. Called it.

Disturbingly, Shepard's eyes fell on the lieutenant as if he could hear his mind muttering, "What's the fastest way to Chora's Den lieutenant?"

"Sir?" he said with confusion.

"I heard it was the best bar on the Citadel," said the commander with amusement, "great drinks…pleasant atmosphere…respectable patrons…hell we might even see a friendly face or two."

Whoever heaped that crock of shit on the commander's plate must have been drinking something themselves. True, Chora's Den was recommended to him at least half a dozen times when he went exploring along the Wards, but even the most upbeat of jarheads he found had painted it as the kind of place you visit in groups and groups that preferably had guns. Down in the lower wards cops were few and crooks were aplenty.

Shepard kept that smile on his face.

"With all due respect sir…shouldn't we be reporting back to Udina and Anderson?" asked Williams. It wasn't so much a question as it was a thinly disguised What the Hell sir?

Shepard didn't so much as twitch at the unspoken remark, he merely floated those green orbs of his onto her, "Color me curious sergeant, but the place did come recommended."

And all at once, Kaiden understood the game.

So too did the sergeant for that matter. "Well sir…when you phrase it like that I suppose I could use something a little stronger than this," she waggled the half empty bottle and tossed it in a trash bin. Kaiden threw his in with a biotic flick of the wrist and followed the both of them to a cab terminal.

Kaiden let the sergeant go in first and took a seat next to her when the cab landed. The commander took the gunners seat and spoke a quiet word to the driver about where they were headed. The cabbie: an older turian merely gave a nod and a disturbing wheeze before the craft lifted off and took to the sky.

The commander's omni-tool glowed as his other hand danced over the device; the cabbie kept his eyes planted on the route as he gurgled out what passed for small talk. Inevitably the conversation steered towards military life, and both the driver and commander asked and answered in turns.

As the world shifted around them from bright blurs to darker hues the sergeant's omni-tool came to life. The cabbie started to rattle about how he landed his current job, and while Kaiden was focused on the sergeants glowing arm, soft whispers of, "Discharge" "Khar'shan" and "Phosphorus" trickled their way into his ears.

Williams sat behind the driver, so she could expand the screen on her wrist without fretting about unwanted attention. Alenko hoped he didn't look to inconspicuous when stealing a glance at her lap. What he read made him suck in his breath through his teeth.

BALAK BETRAYED BROKER

BROKER PISSED

LEAD AT CHORA'S DEN

-Shepard

Kaiden stared at first, but he left out a twisted snort of laughter. The driver heard and stopped speaking. The alien gave him a queer look in the rear-view mirror before forming it into a scowl, but Kaiden didn't care enough to remove the smile grin on his face. Looks like the day still has some sunshine yet.

Who'd a thought?

As the trio put some distance behind the departing vehicle, Williams broke the silence. "Who're we looking for sir?"

"A turian," said Shepard without looking back, he rounded a corner and strode past orange lit avenues and the suspicious looking natives of civilization's underbelly. He paid no heed to their questioning glares, and avoided them like a man did the Batarian Flu. "A C-SEC officer named Garrus Vakarian," he added.

"And how does he figure into all of this?" asked Kaiden.

Shepard remembered asking the same question to Von.

"He's part of the Investigative Division," said the volus as he leaned back in his chair. "Tasked with discovering if the Free Hegemony had a hand with Balak's *Ssshik* stunt on Eden Prime."

The commander raised a brow, "And did he?"

The volus interlocked his fingers on top of his bulbous frame, "*Ssshik* "Nope!"

Shepard grunted in response to that, "A pity."

"Due to a lack of evidence," continued the little broker in a less amused tone, "The investigation was *Ssshik*dropped and officer Vakarian was thereafter reassigned to more *Ssshik* productive endeavors. Which is a shame, as he had yet to exhaust all of his leads, a fact he pointed out to the Executor…*Ssshik* vehemently if I do recall."

Shepard was genuinely intrigued, "That must have been quite the conversation."

"Oh it was I can assure you: a lowly officer…refusing to comply with an order from *Ssshik* the head of Citadel security? Such verbosity would make fine fodder for the press, but alas the Executor is more discreet in his dealings *Ssshik* than his underlings. Vakarian was instead placed on leave to reassess his commitment to galactic security *Ssshik* and to recall his position in the chain of command."

"And I take it alcohol is helping facilitate this process?" asked Shepard. Von leaned forward and reached out with a stubby limb to nab a mug on his desk, a brown stain encircled its previous position and Von sounded disappointed as he eyed its vacant contents.

"Hardly," he said, as he slid out of his chair and rolled to whatever passed for a coffee machine for his species. "Apparently he's got in into his head that since he now has all this free time *Ssshik* on his hands he may as well put them to use on finishing his case." Von spoke with glee as he refilled his mug with something that looked like tar. "Impulsive he may be, *Ssshik* but Vakarian is anything but persistent."

When Shepard summed up that part of the conversation to the pair behind him, Williams was the first to ask, "Find him and find his contact sir?"

"That's the idea Williams."

"And if he's roasted sir?" asked Kaiden thoughtfully. They crossed through a bazaar with a few loitering vagrants, "Balak's a bastard but he hasn't survived this long on luck alone. The bat's bound to have some kind of insurance policy…"

"All the more reason we should reach him first," cut in Shepard. "And if that falls through we have a second lead to go on."

"We do?" asked Williams.

"He's detained back at C-SEC."

Williams shared a look with her biotic counterpart and said, "Sir, C-SEC was closer to the embassies than this place, if this other guy's locked up wouldn't it have been easier to interrogate him first?"

Shepard darted down a deserted alley and walked towards the stairs on the opposite end, "He's not going anywhere anytime soon Williams…and I speak from experience when I tell you getting one of his kind to co-operate ain't easy. That goes triple for this particular specimen: we have neither the time, legal authority, nor a good carving knife, so Officer Garrus Vakarian it is."

"Makes me almost tempted to be grateful sir," responded Alenko. "I mean two leads for the Alliance in the same day? If we can keep our pants on after the payout for this than I can die happy."

"You should be able too, we got them for free."

Kaiden must have misheard, "Can you run that by me one more time sir?"

Shepard stopped before the pale illumination of the stairs so suddenly the marines behind him nearly collided with his back. The commander spun on a heel and said, "The information was free Kaiden. I wasn't kidding when I said the Shadow Broker was pissed. Whatever happened between the two of them was sour enough to make the Broker inclined to charity."

The commander went upwards while the other marines quietly digested that. The trio found themselves on a large walkway after they reached the top, dully lit and possessing a strong wind. Unlike the Presiduim where the shifting air was by design, down here it was more of a byproduct of the air cars rushing below the gap before them. Situated on the end opposite of their own was a twin path leading to the same destination.

"Remember," said the commander as he did a brief survey of their new surroundings, "if you find a bird with blue stripes or a balding bastard with a brown goatee than those are our guys." The other marines nodded as he angled left and followed.

A massive apartment of metal made up the wall looming before them. Its faded lights cast pink shadows here and there, while sky blue neon illuminated snatches of Asari script. The silhouette of one of those same aliens stretched out across the wall in a vibrant hue; alien phrases trailed a path along her lounging legs while an arm moved a suspiciously shaped lollypop in a repetitive motion.

"Charming," said Williams dryly, as the doors parted before them and music flooded their ear drums.

The club was large, dominated in its center by a circular bar ringed with seats and with booths for customers along the perimeter. The bartenders served in clothing that looked like the bastard love child of leather and spandex, but those women were modest compared to their Asari counterparts. Whether it was twisting on tables or dancing on the stage above the bar, the women flaunted almost everything they were born with. Stern eyed bouncers protected what modesty they had left from their reveling audiences with stun sticks on hips and shotguns loaded to bare.

"A billion light-years from where man began," said Williams in a musing tone, her voice audible below the thump and rattle of the beat, "standing in what is the heart of galactic civilization on the greatest feat of engineering in all of history…"

A light blue asari grabbed a pole on center stage and seemed to notice the staring trio. She took a moment to smile and wink at the three before bending in a way most pleasing to the eye. "…and yet here we are…standing in a bar watching half naked women shake their asses on a stage. I don't know if I find that funny or sad."

"It's something all right," said Alenko.

"Focus LT."

Shepard made eye contact with a bouncer and turned to the pair behind him, "Spread out and mingle."

Kaiden nodded and drifted off to the left side of the bar, Ashley hung back and seemed to be in search for a table with a good view of the room. Shepard drifted to the right and walked along the path between the booths and bar.

After a brief search, he saw the familiar blue of a uniform. Not quite the fatigues he was acquainted with for the Alliance, but of a similar cut nonetheless. As he got nearer to the figure he recognized some of the features he mentioned earlier.

The figure was hunched over the counter of the central bar, sitting on a stool with a few empty beer bottles resting near his laying head. Shepard plopped himself on an empty stool next to the man and gave him a prodding poke. The man didn't move, so Shepard poked him again, "Officer Harkin?"

The human brought his head up and turned to squint at the commander though a scowling eye. He would have done it with both but the bruise that permeated the left side of his face had swollen it shut with a hideous shade of violet. The ice pack on the counter clinked as the man groaned in dismissal before resting his head on it again.

Shepard spoke again through the music, "Officer Harkin?"

"Fuck off boy scout," said the man through cradled arms.

This should be wonderful.

"My name is Commander Isaac Shepard, Alliance military…"

Officer Harkin raised his head and scowled something fierce at the marine once more, whether it was from the pain on his face or the music rattling the birth pangs of the hangover in his skull, Shepard couldn't begin to fathom.

"What part…of FUCK OFF do you not hear boy scout?" the words came out angry and slurred.

"…I need your help," the commander finished.

"And why," asked Harkin as he gestured with his drink, "should I give a fuck?"

"…Because you're a cop?"

Harkin looked down at the clothes he was wearing and Shepard did too. They were soiled and unkempt, but unmistakably of a military grade, afforded only to those entrusted with maintaining law and order on the station. Shepard noted disquietly that whatever passed for a badge or identifying mark on the officer looked to be torn off.

"Well yeah," said Harkin, looking back up and taking a swig from his beer, "I can see how you might get that impression."

"I'm looking for Garrus Vakarian."

Harkin swallowed and licked his teeth, "Yeah and I'm looking for a fucking threesome with Staci and Stephi Strong but I'm not getting that either jarhead. Now why don't you go fuck off back to basic and let me finish my fucking drink in peace."

Shepard didn't budge but he did catch movement behind the older man. He shifted an eye to see Alenko finish his walk around the bar's curve. The biotic took a seat not too far away and made eye contact with the commander a moment before shaking his head, Vakarian not here.

Shepard didn't feel surprised, Of course were doing it the hard way. Harkin was drunk, but by no means was he blind. He followed the commander's gaze and turned to see the other marine ordering a drink a few seats away.

When Harkin turned back he was smirking, "Worried your fuck buddy is starting to miss the taste of asshole?"

"Well I will admit, the thought did cross my mind," Shepard said nod, "but then I remember that your mother always was the patient sort."

Harkin's smirk remained buoyant, "You know her well do you?"

"Most do." Shepard gave a shrug of his own, "Say what you will: the boys in blue find her tongue in cheek disposition to be a refreshing one."

Harkin seemed amused by that, he looked down at the aforementioned item, hocked his lungs and added something thick and colorful to the medals on the commander's chest.

Harkin looked back up to the marine's face and seemed strangely vindicated that he didn't respond. Harkin snorted a nostril, "Since you seem used to letting others do the thinking for you," said the officer, blind to the vein throbbing in the commander's temple, "I might as well carry on that fine tradition. Riddle me this jarhead: do you know what the meaning of life is?"

"I'm pretty sure you're going to tell me."

"Life's is about fucking," Harkin said with a grim chuckle, "The Alliance learned that from the bats, and these fucking bastards," his gesture took in everyone around him, "learned that from us in the Traverse. Getting fucked or being the fucker, there ain't no fucking halfway between the two. Why just look at me!"

Harkin's teeth looked to have a faint smear of red as he turned on his stool to look appraise the commander. "I've been slaving away at this fucking job for twenty fucking years, and for what? Nothing that's what! Those fucking cunts in brass put me here to do my part for the species and surprise, surprise! Turns out C-SEC is full of the same bunch of cunts that have shitting on us for the last century."

Harkin swayed in his stool as he ranted. "Why are you bitching about working for aliens Harkin, we thought you were open-minded. What do you mean you have it rough? If our great granddaddies could make it through the slave camps than by God Harkin you can stomach your cunt co-workers. What do you mean you never wanted to be a cop? Harkin if we cared three shits about anyone's hopes and dreams the Alliance would never have gone through with conscription!"

Harkin aimed a toothy expression at the commander. "Those cunts you fucking salute won't hesitate to fuck over their own, so why not give the gift that keeps on giving? Why not rough a suspect in custody, nab some red sand from the evidence locker, or take a little cash here and there to turn the other cheek? The Alliance stuck me here for fucking forever, and if these alien cunts are gonna do the same, then the least I can do is make it interesting."

Harkin jabbed a finger into the commanders chest, hard enough to make his medals jingle and drip, "Mark my words boyscout, when push comes to shove those assholes that lord it over the rest of us will sell your ass out to dry if they can get something out of it. As soon as that happens and your balls happen to drop than you can talk to me and not a moment before."

NOW.

FUCK.

OFF.

Harkin turned, finished his drink in a gulp and signaled for another from a wary looking waitress. Shepard's face was stone, the only indicators of life was the steady rise and fall of his chest and the angry twitch at the corner of his temple. Harkin ignored him for some time before turning to deliver another pungent tirade before stopping himself. He looked in the commander's eye and held it before raising a slow finger to point at the marine.

"You know what?" he asked in a tone more reasonable than Shepard thought possible. "I just realized why I can't fucking stand you."

Shepard tilted his head to the right and raised a brow, "Do tell."

"I thought it was the uniform at first, but I realize that ain't it. Oh no, that ain't it at all." Harkin leaned forward and Shepard could smell the alcohol on his breath. A finger edged dangerously close towards the commander's eye. "You got the same look in the eye as that fuck Anderson."

"You don't say."

"You know him too don't you?" an ugly smile creeped its way into Harkin's features. "Of course you do, how could you not know about the brasses favorite pet?"

"I know of him," said the commander evenly, "struck me as the kind of man who's earned that distinction."

"Where are his medals then?" Harkin shot back. "Anyone who's served for as long as he claims he has should have something to show for it and he's got shit. Even a fucking idiot like yourself has something to show for those handjobs in boot; but that worthless prick is nothing more than a glorified brown-noser and yet he has the balls to look down on me."

Harkin laughed and drank, "That's the real reason he doesn't like me," he said after finishing. "He reminds me too much of himself: a gutless secretary and a draft dodger. Neither of us saw any action, so he goes around pretending he's earned a pair because of that fucking outfit he struts in." Harkin raised his beer in a mocking toast, "Here's to never saluting those shits!" If making that cock sucker a spectre was their idea of brilliance than that explains why they tried to drown the bats in red during the war."

That throbbing temple ceased for a moment, "…The Alliance…tried to make Captain Anderson…a spectre?" the commander asked slowly.

"Why wouldn't they?" said Harkin after belching. "He's so good at cleaning out assholes why not give him the job? Only he fucked up so bad they tried to cover the whole thing up and pretend it never happened." Harkin laughed again, "Serves those cunts right."

Harkin took a long pull at his beer, a much longer one than the previous. Shepard got the feeling that since Harkin realized he wasn't going to leave he may as well make him wait on hand and foot. As soon as the other man finished he smacked his lips.

He turned towards the commander and smirked, "Still waiting for the word on the bird?"

"I was kind of hoping for it yeah."

Harkin leaned back and took in a breath, a wide smile plastered on his face. "Tell you what, all this reminiscing has made me thirsty. Pick up the tab and buy me another round…"

"…And then you'll tell?" finished the commander with a raised brow.

Harkin laughed some more and shook his head, "Nah…but who knows?" he said with a shrug. "You might put me in the mood," he smiled broadly.

Shepard didn't say anything at first, but after some thought he smiled an easy smile, "Why not?"

"Make it two," ordered Harkin.

Shepard raised two fingers and pointed to the pile of bottles to indicate he wanted more of the same. The bartender reached under the counter and set two of them before the marine. Cold and crisp was the pair, and Shepard slid one over to the older man.

Harkin spoke with approval as he popped the lid, "Now there's a good boy scout."

Shepard nodded, and grabbed the other bottle by the neck before smashing it across Harkin's face.

The man went backwards head first as his legs jerked into the air. His head bounced against the metallic floor as he clutched and howled at the pain that was clawing its way back onto his face. Shepard placed his boot squarely on Harkin's neck to keep him from rolling away; grinding it into the shards that glittered on the floor. Harkin kept crying like a wounded animal as the renewed bruise on his face was now trailing a scarlet trail on the floor.

"You think you in the mood now Harkin?" Shepard asked.

The marine looked up and realized the world had stopped. The music was still playing, but all eyes were on him…including the angry barrels of a half dozen bouncers. "Alliance business," he said to them, as if that answered everything.

It didn't, not really. The bouncers were a motley collection of different species, some of which no doubt hailed from the Attican Traverse. None of them seemed the least bit reassured by marines answer, and perhaps they would have made something of it had one of them chosen to open fire.

But they didn't: their guns glowed a dull purple a moment before angling upwards to rest under their belligerent chins. Thank you lieutenant Alenko Shepard thought to himself. A glance back towards the sergeant showed she was no worse for wear: an omni-blade was dangerously close to severing the jugular of an alien she was standing behind, while her other arm glowed with the familiar edges of ballistic blades at another that remained dead in its tracks.

Shepard gave a quick nod to her and looked back down to Harkin, "Well?"

"Fuc-" the other man began to say, before Shepard put his weight behind his foot and forced Harkin's face to slide against metal and shards once more. The man screamed bloody murder as he did his best grab the marine's legs and shove him off. "Dr. Michels!" he screamed for all to hear, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE HE WENT TO MICHEL'S INFIRMIRAY!"

"Why?"

"He wanted the suit! JESUS FUCK GET OFF ME."

Shepard's brow furrowed, A quarian? "Where?"

Harkin gave the directions in a rush, but they were easy enough to decipher. Apparently they were even within spitting distance of the club on this level. Shepard took it all in and brought his boot away. "Now was that so hard Harkin?"

"FUCK YOU, YOU WORTHLESS NIG-"

The next kick was a biotic one: angled right where it would do the most good. When it collided, Harkin threw up on reflex, and a greasy puddle of his intake splashing back out. He laid there on the floor: his head in red tinged vomit that steamed as he curled to caress the agony coursing between his legs.

Shepard walked towards the door and motioned for the other two to move as soon as his back was to a wall. Alenko went first out the door, granting the men their weapons back as soon as he crossed the threshold towards the world outside. Williams shoved her shield of meat away from her and walked out facing forward, her arm still loaded for bear. Shepard made the angry aliens weary with a brief spurt of biotic light around his frame. He walked out the door backwards, eyes aglow with a respectful tone, "Ladies and gentleman thank you for patience and understanding in this issue. Don't forget to tip your waitresses and use a cab if you lack a designated driver."

No one said anything, and everyone kept staring; the commander merely smiled. His eyes went from glowing violet to lively green as he tipped his cap and walked out.

Author notes: One important thing I thought to bring to light is the concept of collectivism and its presence in canon. Both the Turians and the Quarians display this group mindset in their service oriented culture for the former as well as a survival tactic for the latter. Humanity in canon still retains the basic fundamentals of individuality that is common place within the 21st century, making it both more accessible and believable to the player.

NOW, in R/R it would be fair to say that during the course of the First Contact War, there was a forcible shift from the individualistic mindset we value today to a level of collectivist thinking that is on par with the Turians. Shepard, Anderson and most other humans are individuals yes, but they are far likelier to place more emphasis on the needs of the whole in contrast to Harkin and the level of individualism he is prescribing too.

I don't imagine he woke up one day and decide to be an asshole, anymore than Humanity did during the aforementioned March of the Traverse, but it could be possible that Harkin gradually grew into one due to a combination of lack of personal input, forced assignment and the refusal to have him leave due to the political ramifications for his species in what is a dead end career. (The same level of discrimination that Humans have for the treatment of their batarian troops could be seen as applied here) I envision Harkin getting the job shortly after war's end in a place where distrust and dislike for humanity were and are still big issues, and no matter how hard he applied himself in the beginning he would never advance. Does it justify his bitterness? Yes. Does it excuse him for being an asshole? NO.

Another note: For those whom are thinking that Harkin is a DIRTY COWARD for not fighting during the war, I ask you to take a moment to THINK on what the Alliance did, or condoned during that period in order to catch up to their enemies. Do you think you would want to be on the short end of the stick for those particular arrangements? If one is so inclined, it could be seen that Harkin has (perhaps a highly skewed) critique of the Alliance and its current mindset, the perspective from one of the "few" sacrificing for the "many."