Any official letter from the Council is a bad sign. Three years of enjoying retirement, and here they are to burst my bubble. Three years of waking up late, ignoring galactic news, and trying to enjoy time with my daughter. This is bliss, and here comes the fun police to spoil it. The worst part is it contained the five words grouped together that I dread more than anything else, "We kindly request a meeting."
Typical bullshit. Either they want me to check up on a Spectre who is having a hard time, or they want to put me back in the field. The former is doable, although not a very fun experience. Sometimes a Spectre will hit the bottle a little too hard and forget what they signed up for. A few pats on the back, some shit shooting, and some first hand stories usually wake the kid up.
The latter is out of the question. 12 years as a Spectre, and I've done my job. I served the Council dutifully. I brought criminals to justice, exposed corruption in the highest levels of government, and even stopped a war from starting in the Terminus Systems. Now fuck off and let me live, or die, for that matter. Every Drell will succumb to the same fate. Keppler's Syndrome. My lungs will eventually quit on me and I will be nothing more than a name on the wall of the Spectre Ops headquarters. Oh well.
A knock on the door.
"Yes?"
"Kyrie open up it's me."
Raymond Donnelly, an old buddy from my C-Sec days. He's never needed a reason to visit, but the timing of this one is no coincidence. He is a politician after all. I opened the door.
"Slow day in the human embassy, Ray? Good to see ya."
"I could ask you the same thing, Naxos. There has to be something for an ex-Spectre to do than read the newspaper."
"What do you mean? Today is busy. I'll take a shit in ten minutes, maybe take a nap. I drink a lot. Interested?"
"Ha! I'll pass today, but save it for later you'll need it."
"And here I was thinking that you just missed an old friend. How can I help you, Ray?"
He was wearing his embassy clothing, but in his heart, Raymond Donnelly is a cop. 20 years as a C-Sec officer, 8 of those as a detective. I know he's seen some real shit on the Citadel. He never lost the sense of right and wrong, though. His sense of purpose. I'll always respect him for that.
"Kyrie, I'll be straight. The Council sent me here to talk to you. They want to set up a meeting."
Knew it.
"Well I'm politely refusing. As you can tell, retirement has served me well. This condo here on the Citadel is serving me just fine. Basically tell them to fuck off, okay?"
I had to make it a little hard on him. He wasn't going to back down, though. Man, I missed ol' Ray.
"I need you to reconsider that, Kyrie. We do. There's some shit going down. Bad shit."
"Ray, no. Have them send an active Spectre. Not a retired one. I'm happy."
"We can't. They're disappearing."
There it is. The real reason they're calling me.
"Why?"
"We don't know. A Spectre went dark two months ago. Then another. The Council sent one out to investigate, and then she disappeared. Since then, three more have gone completely missing."
"Jesus, Ray."
"Yeah. Your name came up as someone who could help. Great track record, Kyrie. That shit in the Terminus? You've saved a lot of lives. We need you to do it again."
And there it went. There go Kyrie Naxos' retirement plans. The nap would have to wait.
"I'll talk to them, Ray. But fuck this shit. I don't need to be a part of this."
He looked at me and hesitated with his next words.
"Ray, what."
"You do need to be a part of this, Kyrie… It's your daughter… She's missing too."
