An individual's role in life can be historic. Lengthy wars and sovereign shifts have been wrought by their audacious acts. While violence is their likely means, other tactics are duly employed. Information is critical even during peaceful times, with one party making its commerce his stock in trade.
His bearing on government is considerable. He has empowered the few and diminished the many. He's neither left nor right, pro nor con. No qualms or views deter any venture. His motives are many and privy solely to himself. He's both feared and respected. Just his presence affects results, though he prefers anonymity. The Citadel stirs with mere mention of his name. He is the Shadow Broker.
Rumors spread. Some scheme is afoot with the Broker's name blaring ominously at the forefront. At times like this vigilance is paramount, bringing together two close friends.
"Long time, Liara."
"Too long. I heard about the geth incident, thought about you."
"Unfortunately that's still a concern, along with a few other things. How's everything on Omega?"
"The same. Smuggling's worse than ever, but you already know that."
"It's the reason I called, though I wish it were personal."
"So the Citadel's worried about the Broker again. Last I heard he was thinking retirement. Apparently something changed."
"We were hoping you'd know. You've had the most contact with him. There's talk that has us worried."
"Like?"
"Weapons."
"Weapons?! That's not his style. He leaves bloodshed to others."
"That's the word, and we don't believe it's just business. Whatever's going down it's deeper."
"You don't think he's involved in the batarian dispute?"
"No. He couldn't care less about some civil war that means little to anyone. It's been suggested it's personal. Forgoing the shadows, favoring the light."
"Unlikely. He's different, completely void of ego. He prefers the background. He'd have to change his name for heaven's sake."
"We think this ties into your problems on Omega."
"Last thing we need, though it could provide leverage. There's an arms dealer up to his neck in smuggling who may prove helpful if he hears there's a new player out to eliminate the competition, permanently. Self preservation is a great motive."
"Indeed, but don't name names. If he's clueless it could trigger alarms. Discretion is key."
"How'd you hear about this?"
"Someone inside, someone deep inside."
"Is this one of his people, or yours?"
"Ours. Naturally the fewer that know the better. We fear reprisal. Anytime an inner circle is compromised….In this case that would be…painful."
"Do I sense a personal connection?"
"We all understand the need for detachment, but at times….."
"I'm not trying to pry. I care."
"I know."
"I could go straight to the horse's mouth, unofficial. It wouldn't be unusual."
"Not yet. We're already working on her exit. Once she's off you're on."
"Then let me get started. I should have something within the hour. How can I contact you?"
"Through the extranet. Keep it simple. I'll read between the lines."
"You have a plan?"
"Vaguely, though I'll need your report beforehand. Time is of the essence, Liara, but be careful."
"I always am, Commander."
Liara's trip to Omega is brief. While travelling she reflects on her conversation with Shepard, pondering the personal import. He wasn't his stoic self, displaying rare chinks in his emotional armor. It would take a friend to grasp the nuance. The person inside the Broker's sanctum must be someone close to affect him so clearly. They both understand the problem posed when venturing any relationship. The danger factor alone precludes the thought. Their lives are busy and time precious, with loved ones forsaken often. Spouses want their partner, offspring their parent, with neither tolerant of absence. Even casual affairs try the most selfless of beings. Maintaining order time and again is a thankless task disdained by others yet embraced heartily by these devoted colleagues. Still people connect, lovers fashioned, with the requisite heartache to follow. Alas death may result as well.
The search for the dealer shouldn't prove difficult. He haunts the same area routinely with little concealment deployed. Crime is so endemic on Omega wrongdoers hardly fear the law, trafficking their wares with a laissez-faire arrogance. Of course whenever money's to be made no deterrent serves. Fortunately for Liara this conceit works in her favor, for just then she spots her prey, a quarian renowned for his thunderous arsenal.
"You're predictable, good for me. We need to talk."
"What do you want, asari?"
"Your sorry ass in jail."
"On whose authority? You have no jurisdiction here."
"So how's business? I'm sure the batarians are clients. Of course you're neutral and sell to both sides."
"You don't know what you're talking about, and why should I talk to you anyway?"
"You could be dealing with far worse characters than me. What if I were to tell the turians who's been stealing their shipments, selling it to their enemies, and at a profit no less."
"How do you know this? If that damn drell talked I'll cut off his….You're bluffing."
"Am I? I'll tell you what. What say I settle for a little info and forget the turians."
"Okay. Fine. Sure, the batarians are customers. So I help a few freedom fighters. I'm nonpartisan. They buy everything they can get their hands on, though their funds are limited. Besides they lack imagination. All they want is smart bombs and think tanks. So passé."
"What's cutting edge these days?"
"Fission fire. The power of a nuclear reactor right at your fingertips, all contained in the casing of a common pen. It's cutting edge all right. It'll cut your eyes out at five klicks."
"Naturally the profit margin's higher."
"Naturally."
"Any new players around?"
"In this business, always. They come and they go. I'd need a scorecard to keep track. If I was concerned everytime someone new hit the scene I would have been out of this racket years ago."
"Depends on the player."
"I've seen 'em all, tough guys trying to make a mark. After a while they're just a bunch of nameless losers."
"The person I'm thinking of is hardly nameless, and certainly no loser. Faceless perhaps. He's likely using intermediates, preferring the indirect approach. Anyone buying large amounts?"
"More like exotic items, one of a kind."
"What do you make of that, a collector, sportsman hunting rare prey?"
"In my line of work the only question asked is the color of your money."
"You must have an opinion. Come on, just between friends."
"Not all weapons are bought for battle. Some have other functions."
"Go on."
"Some are purchased to be used one time, and depending on the species a special weapon is required."
"This goes back to what I said before, someone hunting a particular prey."
"Think outside the box. You're still seeing everything as conflict. Tell me, what's the flip side of murder?"
"Flip side of murder?
"Or better yet, self inflicted murder."
"…..Suicide!"
Liara ponders the topic broached by the quarian. He suggested a weapon was sought for the purpose of suicide. But whose suicide, the Shadow Broker's, or someone else? The Broker is not immune to harm. While physically daunting he can be killed in any number of ways via a plethora of weapons, and she knows of no other race with their own peculiar kryptonite weakness or Achilles Heel. Those are Earth fables, not real life as she knows it. The dealer appeared unaware of any name behind the search, so the possibility exists someone else is involved.
Regardless of the culprit's identity, the next question is what situation demands a specific weapon when others would suffice. Puzzling, though she recalls hearing of a religious significance applied to a gun but forgets specifics. The subject matter is beyond her expertise requiring counsel. Possibly a cleric could shed some light, but first it's time to send this news to her friend.
Commander Shepard is not known for patience. As a man of action he detests inaction, with the wait for Liara's report proving interminable, though it paid off handsomely. Interesting bit of info too. An exact weapon is the prize, the whys and wherefores adding peripheral relevance to his plan, a plan of entrapment. If one cannot find an adversary cloaked in shadows, make the adversary come to you. So if someone wants a rarity then that they shall have, and he knows just the artisan to provide it.
"Hello. Are you Q'wan Toh?"
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. To whom am I speaking?"
"While your name is respected and rightfully so, mine is not and thus unimportant. What is important is my purpose."
"Anonymity is customary in my business, though I do like to maintain decorum."
"And fully appreciated. However I've travelled far, time is short, and I have a request of you."
"You do have references."
"None other than the Illusive Man. He sends his regards."
"How do you know him?"
"He's more an occupational irritant than friend, though I know him well enough to have seen your handiwork personally. That Baretta was inspired. Such style and detail. You're looking at an earthman with the utmost respect for fine craftsmanship and old world virtues."
"Then we are kindred spirits. Few would know of that request. It had personal significance behind it."
"Strange for a man not known for sentiment, don't you agree?"
"I wouldn't know. I prefer to maintain distance in my dealings. I'm sure you relate."
"I do. Speaking of dealings let's get on with one. I have need for a particular weapon, one of a kind. So rare it's yet to exist."
"You want me to create an exclusive weapon for you."
"I'm hardly the man with the golden gun, pardon the Earth movie reference. This weapon's main feature will be its uniqueness. Functionality is required, of course."
"Of course. May I ask the purpose of this weapon?"
"To attract the interest of someone. I am a hunter and will use the weapon in my quest, but not in the usual way. It will be used as bait more than a deathblow."
"A unique weapon for a unique purpose. What's the caliber and alloy required?"
"That's being determined as we speak. For now I wanted to touch bases and get things rolling. Can you help me?'
"Yes."
"What timeframe are we looking at?"
"Contact me in one solar cycle. You'll have your bait."
Liara's confab with the quarian raised as many questions as answers provided, questions not easily explained. The subject is millennia old and dense, comprising cultures throughout the universe. She wades through her memory banks and recalls a woman versed in the myriad religions of space. Her province is instilling the youth and engaged at a local retreat.
"Excuse me. I don't know if you remember me, but I was a student of yours."
"The face is familiar, though the name is not. Too many to remember, I'm afraid."
"I understand. I'm not good with names myself. Liara T'Soni. It's been a while."
"I do remember you, quite rambunctious, especially with those powers of yours. You scared the bejeesus out of me more than once."
"I'm sorry. I still have trouble controlling them. As for my gumption…..."
"Look at you, all grown up. How's life treating you? Are you happy?"
"Generally, yes. Now…..?"
"I take it this isn't a social call. I get so few of those. What's troubling you?"
"I do need advice, but not for me. I'm here for someone else."
"Liara, there's no need for modesty. There's nothing you can say that will shock me, nor will I show any judgment toward you."
"No, I'm serious. Oh, let me start over. Someone I know may be considering suicide and there could be a religious connection. I need help and you were the first person I thought of."
"I apologize for the misunderstanding. Please, sit down."
"The individual is prominent. He's searching for a weapon, a unique weapon. When I heard this I considered a religious meaning. Nothing else came to mind or made sense. Am I making sense?"
"There is a tenet named arcana. It's heavy on symbolism and rituals, especially concerning the afterlife, which appears to be at the heart of this. The use of a specific weapon could be a means of entering the desired transcendental state, heaven shall we say. This weapon could provide a cathartic release, an atonement for bad karma accrued through evil deeds. Has this person committed evil deeds?"
"More than his share. But many religions consider suicide a mortal sin. That would undermine his intent."
"But many don't. It is estimated there are over five thousand religions in our quadrant. Their beliefs are varied and contradict or undermine other doctrines."
"With so much difference of opinion how can anyone trust what they believe?"
"Faith. That's what it comes down to. Still there's the skeptics, people of science, who claim consciousness ends when the brain dies. In other words there is no afterlife."
"And the weapon's only significance is what the user gives it."
"It has no physical significance beyond a tool. It is symbolic. Its main purpose is to cleanse the soul. The killing of the body is the means to that end. What can you tell me about him?"
"Concerning his beliefs, not much. I do know as a youth he had a spiritual adviser, a master so to speak. He was one of many disciples."
"That fits. Arcana is metaphysical, even bestowing meaning to the metal in the weapon. Is this person experiencing depression or bad health?"
"Last I saw he was a striking example of good health, so why he's considering this now is a mystery."
"Some believe history is governed by cycles. Perhaps we're coming to the beginning or end of one now, which may leave little time. You need to uncover more details about him, hopefully from someone close."
"That's how I heard of this in the first place, indirectly. I'm not sure they can provide anything further. It's a long story."
"Is this someone close to you?"
"It's more professional than personal, though I do have feelings."
"Then go with your feelings, Liara T'Soni, and Godspeed."
While Commander Shepard awaits his request, diligence demands research, and what better way than a confederate of the Broker. His network requires numerous people to run. Shepard has encountered many in his travels, though most aren't worth consideration. A few could prove helpful, one krogan especially, and he knows just where to find him.
"What's up, Ragor?"
"Shepard, what the hell you want? I'm clean."
"That remains to be seen. You staying out of trouble?"
"Why you bothering me. I'm small time. Don't you have bigger fish to fry?"
"Who you working for these days?"
"I'm freelance, you know that. In my line you never know where your next paycheck is coming from. Just keep your eyes and ears open."
"Last I heard you were working for the Broker."
"Everyone works for him at one time or another. He values initiative and rewards it well."
"Sounds like the perfect boss."
"Yeah, right. Just don't get on his bad side."
"Tasmanian devil time."
"You see that Tazzik. He's a beast. Mean son of a bitch, though he has a code of honor. Go figure."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"A few days ago."
"With the Broker?"
"Yes."
"Which means his services are required."
"Imminently. I pity his next victim, whoever that might be."
"No idea?"
"Hell no. I also know when to keep my eyes and ears closed."
"Tazzik may know the Broker's affairs more than anyone."
"Maybe. Why the sudden interest, or is this routine?"
"Hardly routine. How'd he appear the last time you spoke?"
"To the point. He's not one for chit chat. He seemed preoccupied, but that could be a lot of things."
"Like?"
"I got the idea something big was going down, some decision was made."
"What kind of decision?"
"You know, life or death."
Shepard dissects his conversation with the krogan. While most of his remarks conveyed little, a few rang prophetic. What word did he use, imminently, a word denoting dwindling time. More clarification is needed, so who better to confer than the man discussed, the Broker's terminator, none other than Tazzik. A quick vid-call discerns his whereabouts. No mean feat since he savors the night life and its wanton excess.
The two first met under adverse conditions, though a rapport was established. Tazzik is such a haughty individual he has few qualms about discussing his affairs, deeming himself impervious to defeat. A tall cool one would refresh as well as two warriors trade insights.
"I wasn't sure you'd show."
"I don't like agents of the Citadel. You're so….human, but I'm curious, and dialogue can be useful."
"You are one big son of a gun. Can't hurt the intimidation factor."
"Looks great on the business card, though in the performing of it perhaps not. My work is best accomplished with my prey never laying eyes, and especially hands, on me."
"Work from afar. Leave the close quarters combat to others."
"I fear no one in battle, though if you want to last in this profession, discretion and all that."
"A touch of humility. How refreshing."
"I'm more than just a pretty face. Victory is accomplished more often by brains than brawn. Leave the hubris to your opponent. It'll be their downfall."
"Keeping busy?"
"One employer keeps me active."
"The Shadow Broker."
"That's no secret. He's powerful in his own right, but without me….."
"He has many people concerned, and not in the usual way. This is different, personal, and guess whose name also came up?"
"Mine. We knew there was a leak, which needs to be plugged, permanently."
"Confirm a few things and I'll take care of the leak for you, in a less bloody manner naturally."
"One of your people I see. No surprise. I knew it was either you or the Collectors. I'd prefer it be them. I hate those bastards."
"They're not exactly on my hit parade. I haven't forgotten their interest in my body. Everyone was surprised the Broker even dealt with them. They can't be trusted."
"Some say the same about the Citadel."
"Whatever, but let's get back to the point. Why's the Broker have a death wish?"
"So that's what you heard. Your intel is spotty. You're missing a few pieces."
"Fill me in. Is he looking for a weapon to kill himself?"
"Yes, and no."
"Go on."
"A weapon is being sought, but not for suicide. It'll have another purpose."
"Which is….?"
"Murder."
"Murder?"
"By me."
"I see. And who is the intended victim?"
"That's where it gets interesting. The Broker is my main patron and now is no different, however the victim is another matter. This will be the most extraordinary assignment of my career. The victim…..is him. He's dying."
Liara's been apprised that Shepard's confidante is safe. She's now free to contact the Broker and discuss the reports. Their relationship has many facets but foremost there's candor. He's direct and shuns deceit, plus they share a mutual regard. No surprise that when she called he held no reluctance about a meet.
The trek to Alingon is taxing. Besides the relay jaunt its terrain is grueling, with byzantine pathways and opaque illumination that deter the hardiest, a critical reason the planet was chosen as his base. His security is likewise formidable. He brooks no trespassers without reservations, a detail superfluous to Liara. What is pertinent is passage, and after negotiating one last chasm she's within visual range of his compound. It's time for answers.
"Thank you for seeing me."
"This is good for me as well. You guys have been asking too many questions. It's time to clear the air."
"That would be helpful, and yes, we have been asking questions. We've heard rumors that concern us. But first let me show some concern by asking a question. How are you?"
"A question couched in amenities, though one not easily answered."
"I thought as much. It's the reason I'm here."
"Illustrating how little privacy any of us have, even me. You know what's interesting about information? How easy it is to obtain. My enterprise is proof of that. Everybody loves to talk. No one can keep a secret. Incentives like money and favors merely grease the machine, keep the operatives driven. Yet the opposite is also true. Keeping a secret is just as difficult."
"I know you're trying to keep one which involves you personally, and what I've heard is shocking."
"Nothing shocks me anymore. I've seen it all. When one thing happens another follows. Everything is a domino effect. Dominos, a simple children's game, yet a metaphor for life. You ever ponder destiny?"
"Yes."
"Free will vs. determinism?"
"I studied it in school."
"Which camp are you in?"
"Free will. Life is a series of choices and decisions. Left, right, up, down. Some things are out of our control, but our futures are not determined."
"You sound so sure. I was like that. However at certain points in life, crossroads, beliefs become blurred."
"There are no guarantees. It's the vagaries that make life interesting. Without the lows the highs have no meaning. We need emotional balance."
"You mentioned things being out of our control, but I'm a being of control. I have been my entire adult life. Without it there's chaos."
"Strange comment from you considering you've created your share of chaos, and others had to deal with it! Another example of something out of someone's control, but they didn't quit. They survived, which was their choice."
"You're a survivor, but in the end, when our bodies turn to dust, does it matter?"
"You surprise me. I know you to be a spiritual being, which entails many things, but fundamentally there's hope. Yet here you stand, completely void of it. What the hell happened?"
"This physical shell that contains the spirit will be no more. I'm dying, which prompts many thoughts. What comes next? Does anything come next? And what legacy will I leave."
"I can't answer what comes next. No one can. As for your legacy, you made your bed, buster, so live with it. All this should have been considered long ago as you conducted yourself since youth."
"Hindsight means little when the reaper comes calling."
"You've made rational choices and this is the result. Regrets are painful, but save your sympathy for your victims."
"You're right. The past cannot be changed, but I can atone for it and prepare for my ethereal future."
"How do you plan to atone, by killing yourself? That is your plan."
"With the aid of an associate, yes."
"Do you really believe that will accomplish anything?"
"I have to. It's the last thing I do believe."
At that moment a shot rings out, and the Shadow Broker slumps to Liara's feet. She turns to see Tazzik, the Broker's assassin, standing feet away, brandishing the proverbial smoking gun. He utters a few words before leaving.
"It's better this way."
Liara reflects on the last few moments. Death has that effect, injecting abject mortality. Existential musings are inescapable. Life is indeed short with no assurances whatsoever. There is no road map or moral compass. Live a righteous life and proceed forthright. Yet she's been raised to persevere, turn loss into gain, all while serving her world anyway she can. The circumstances are right to rise anew, and what better way than becoming the new Shadow Broker.
