The Citadel wasn’t exactly what Zaeed would call a ‘dream vacation.’ While he wasn’t exactly wanted anywhere, the fact that there were so many officers on the damn station made it hard for an honest man to relax.

It wasn’t all bad, though. They had some good drinks, attractive company, if you knew where to look. He just had to follow a few stupid rules. He was capable of that. As long as he kept his head down, he could enjoy his shore leave like any other.

Well, it wasn’t his fault he forgot ‘no bar fights’ was a rule.

Besides, the man deserved it. He had been going on and on about the superiority of man, how everyone else should’ve been used as fodder for the reapers. The hell did this guy know about reapers? Zaeed had fought them. He knew what it was like. This prissy asshole was asking for it anyways. Saying ‘what are you going to do about it?’ to a notorious mercenary was just BEGGING to be punched.

He stood now, arms crossed as he smirked. He was admiring his handiwork, which he only stopped after being torn off by an officer. The same one he was promptly ignoring right now.