"Somebody else being me. I get in close and I pulp people. End of story. Unless they've got anti-materiel guns, I guess." Warhead takes the massive hammer from her back; it hums with energy.

"I have been on significantly worse teams. Sal'Poma, you're on guard duty for Garrus and his broomstick if anyone somehow makes it past Warhead and me." Terentin's hoping this all happens someplace with a lot of chest-high cover.

As they leave the food court, they may notice that there's a small cluster of men approaching! Three salarians, two batarians, two krogan, and a turian in the lead.

When they see the squad, they draw their guns.

This does not protect the turian from being smashed into the floor with a battle hammer.

"RrrrrrAAAAAAAGH!" Warhead roars.

One of the krogan engages Warhead on her own terms, while the other charges towards Garrus.

Sal'Poma brings up her omni-tool. There's a flash of ozone as the krogan's shields collapse; then she fires her bolt, which pierces the krogan's throat sac and vanishes into it. He continues charging for a good second, then topples to the floor.

"Nice shooting!" Garrus says, drawing a bead on one of the batarians. He fires, penetrating his shields and skull simultaneously.

Terentin leaves her conscious mind behind, which is now standing around and going, Did the kid just drop an entire krogan with a crossbow? The rest of her is out ahead of the back line, sliding-sprinting across the floor like it was just waxed, pistol low by her waist, tracking, tracking, tracking––

Three shots, three targets, separated more by her momentum than by aim. By the time the third disruptor shot has fizzled the third salarian's shields, she's aimed this time back at the first, flicked the disruptor setting off. Three more shots, like an afterimage. The salarians aren't definitely dead, but they're shot to hell. She slides to a stop behind a... plinth? Dry fountain? There's a lot of architecture. Her pistol vibrates in heat, so she sets to forging herself her classic all-metal omni-blade, the one that's rated for armor and, well, flesh.

The remaining batarian manages to get a bead on Warhead and start shooting. Her shields block the first few shots, but they can only take so much punishment; they collapse, and bullets start pinging off her armor and, in a few cases, sinking into her flesh.

She snarls, bodily lifts the other krogan, and throws him at his batarian comrade. They go down in a heap, and Warhead follows it up with a biotic shockwave that pounds into them like a freight train.

Garrus takes this opportunity to shoot the krogan in the face. He slumps to the ground.

     One of the salarians sits up and raises his hands. "Surrendering," he says rapidly. "Please don't kill me. Or my brothers, if they're alive."

"Disarm yourselves or we keep shooting. Quickly." Teddy says this as she sweeps past anyone who seems unconscious rather than dead, chucking away their guns and stomp-crushing their omnis as necessary (not great for their wrists, probably.) Her eyes are everywhere. If there's unrest she kicks it in the face.

Once things are a little bit more contained it seems the thing to do to ask Garrus if he'd like to do the questioning. Home turf and all.

Garrus nods and turns to the salarian who spoke up. "You're the leader?"

     "No, the krogan killed him. My brothers and I are just newbie mercs."

"Great. Does Saren have surveillance on you, or are you an independent team?"

     "He said we were independent but if you believe that then boy have I got some real estate to sell you."

"Yeah. Hmm... we should leave fast, then, but first, any notes on Saren's affect? Did he seem desperate, relaxed, friendly..."

     "Body language was calm and friendly, microexpressions were all over the place. He actually half-twitched for his gun a couple of times when there was an unexpected noise. Even the krogan probably noticed."

"Great. Any other questions before we get the hell out of here, guys?"

"We killing the frogs?"

Saren seemed so above-it-all in the Council meeting. Can she blame hologram latency or non-salarian social reaction time for missing the truth? Or maybe Garrus is just being told what he wants to hear.

"I think it's meaner if we just let the Lesser Garruses round them up. They were coming after you, though, Sal'Poma, any opinions on their disposition?" Teddy's not just gonna kill surrendees, but there's no need to argue about it unless, well, there's a need to argue about it.

"I would prefer we not kill them!" The calmness of her mechanical voice is belied by the frantic motions of her hands. "Let's let the cops handle it, and just get the intel where it needs to go, and not kill any more people than we have to."

"I was just asking."

Garrus pulls up his omni-tool and fabs some zip-cuffs, binds the surviving salarians, and inclines his head towards Teddy. "On to the human embassy?"

"Yeah, Sal, she was just asking." Sheesh, play it cool. Be like Teddy. Carefully avoid stepping in the fact that you killed a triplet. It's easy. It's like the other two salarians aren't even there. "Little Earth it is!" She leads the way.

The salarians seem more sullen than devastated, honestly.

Garrus hails a skycar and they pile in - even Warhead only causes it to bob slightly in the air. Garrus waves his wrist over the console and it ferries them towards the Embassy at top speed.

Top speed in a flying car is not insubstantial. They arrive before the silence has a chance to get more than marginally awkward.

Anderson meets them at the door. "Terentin! You found Vakarian, and - huh. Who are these fine folks?"

"Oh, are these not the mercenary and teen that you left me with."

"Huh."

"I'm not a teenager!" Mort says from inside the room.

"I'm technically no longer a mercenary! Not that I care. Welcome back, boss. These old men are boring as hell."

"Udina's guest console only has filtered extranet access," Anderson translates. "It's been hell out here, Terentin. -more seriously, who are these people?"

"Yakhol Warhead," Warhead introduces herself. "Woman-of-all-work, contractor for stubborn problems."

"Sal'Poma nar Marvan," Sal says with a cross-legged not-quite-curtsey. "Teenager. I have information connecting Saren to the geth invasion, which your employee discovered, then saved me from being murdered by Saren's death squad. I may or may not technically owe her my life."