SMS: The Short Message Service - Chapter One
"I've been watching you."
The simple message had arrived in Executor Pallin's inbox at seven-thirty that morning. For anyone else, it might have been disconcerting, but the turian's habit of early rising was common knowledge among those who worked for him. The vague message could have come from anyone; the criminal syndicate or, more likely, one of the 500,000 officers that served under his command. Either way, Pallin wasn't the sort of man to play games, and he wasn't easily intimidated either. Without giving the cryptic note another thought, he checked the box next to it then hit the delete button. As C-Sec's figurehead, he got too much attention from the paparazzi and the politicians already. He wasn't about to entertain what was likely nothing more than a bad joke.
After it had disappeared from his list of e-mails, he cleared his throat and examined his agenda for the day. There was a meeting of Council officials at noon, so he decided it would be prudent to take an early lunch. Unfortunately, he had to finish sorting out the new-recruit rosters that had taken over his desk first. With a sigh, he reluctantly glanced at the tall stack of personal profile folders he'd been trying to will away all morning.
Sorting out applicants to the C-Sec Academy was always a trial for him; it reminded him how frivolous and undisciplined the youth of today had become. Good men and women were harder and harder to come by, and the reject pile always ended up being bigger than that of acceptations.
He was momentarily glad, then, when a bleep from his omni-tool brought his attention to an incoming text message. Any reprieve from the discouraging and mind-numbing job ahead of him was welcomed, however short it might be. As he read the message, however, his eyebrows drew together in annoyance.
"Why don't you take the day off?" it read. The address on the sender line matched the one from the e-mail he'd just deleted.
Pallin stilled his emotions and let his logic take control. It could be mere coincidence that the message had come just as he was reviewing his schedule. There was nothing in it that could confirm he was literally being watched, at the very moment. Just to be safe, Pallin ignored the text as if nothing had happened. If this nonsense was a big joke as he suspected, he didn't want to give his disgruntled subordinates the satisfaction.
Instead, he merely reached for his pile of paperwork with stiff resignation. He took a deep breath before reluctantly sliding off the rubber band that bound the documents together. As he lifted it from the top corner, it snapped and flew back to strike him in the face. The Executor swore as his everyday agitation took a few steps closer to full-blown vexation. When his omni-tooled promptly sounded for a second time, a muscle in his powerful jaw began to twitch. Slowly, with great restraint, he tilted the screen of his tool into view.
"Careful, Pallin. Wouldn't want to put out one of those pretty blue eyes of yours…"
Pretty blue eyes?! Pallin scowled as his blood heated in his veins; now he knew for sure someone was watching him. His head darted around the office like hawk, searching for suspicious devices and signs of tampering. Whoever was at the other end of those messages, they would have to be a professional to get into his office unnoticed. This might not be the work of one of his officers at all, but something genuinely sinister.
After looking around frantically for a few minutes, Pallin looked up in revelation and moved closer to the large windows looking out over the Presidium. Of course. It was the obvious choice; the Presidium was vast and stacked story upon story. You could see right into his office from any one of a thousand vantage points. He could look all day and never spot anyone. It was far too large an expanse, and besides, he had a more practical approach to weeding out his would-be stalker.
He walked quickly back to this desk and hit the speed dial for C-Sec's Networks division. When the secretary answered the phone, Pallin asked for a tech and explained the situation, carefully omitting the watcher's comment about his eyes.
"I want this traced immediately," the Executor ordered as he forwarded the messages info to his tech, "Find out where these texts are coming from and who's sending them. Let me know as soon as you have a lead."
As soon as he'd hung up on the Networks division, he called his secretary to put in an order for a set of security panels for his less-than-private windows. He wasn't going to risk dealing with this again. Since his office was obviously compromised, Pallin decided it would be best to retire to his second office at the Academy for the rest of the day. He gathered up his documents and shut off his computer. When he exited the airlock, he activated the security system more out of habit than any belief it would keep the intruder from returning. He just hoped he'd find his other office empty and in-tact upon his arrival.
"Aww…don't leave. We were just getting to know each other." his omni-tool bleeped.
Pallin grunted at the text as he passed by the Embassy's secretary. His stalker probably knew far more about him than he let on; and more than Pallin was comfortable with.
"Marina," the Executor said, keeping his voice low and hoping if any cameras were present they wouldn't pick up his voice, "I'm leaving for the Academy. I'll have a team sent back to sweep my office as soon as I get there. If anyone else comes by, page me and use the panic button if necessary."
The asari woman nodded. Only a handful of people knew about the silent alarm system used in the Embassy, even though nearly every office had it installed. When the panic button was pressed, it sent a signal directly to the Academy and the three nearest C-Sec divisions. Trouble-makers wouldn't know the officers had been put on alert until Special Response showed up with handcuffs. It was a good system, and so far, they'd never had to use it.
"Should I forward your calls?" Marina asked.
"Only if it's a Council official or an emergency."
"Yes, sir."
Satisfied, he turned on his heel and headed for the nearest transport station. A few of the Embassy's many diplomats tried to stop him along the way, but he gruffly shrugged them off. He had no time to chat with stuffy politicians when someone might be targeting him with a sniper rifle at the very moment. Instead of looking offended, they should have been thanking him. Who knew what the man on the other end of the omni-tool was after? Best to keep civilians away and avoid the potential for collateral damage.
At the rapid transit station, Pallin commandeered a vessel for himself, flashing his badge and ordering the half-dozen passengers it carried into another car. A squat volus whined about missing a meeting to broker a deal for a new starship, but quickly withered under the Executor's warning glare of impatience. Pallin hadn't risen to the top of C-Sec's hierarchal ladder because he allowed himself to be chastised by random strangers. He barked one last order to the volus and the fat man nearly tripped over himself in his haste to give up his seat.
A few of his officers arrived at the scene of the commotion, and one of them called out to his superior.
"Anything we can help with, sir?" he said.
"You can get these people clear of the transport. There's a situation at the Academy and I'm needed there immediately," Pallin replied.
The officers nodded and began corralling the bewildered passengers away from the transport rail so Pallin's vessel could pull away without clipping any unfortunate by-standers. As soon as the way was clear, he activated the lock on the door and the shuttle shot away towards the Academy. After riding along in silence for a few minutes, Pallin began to relax a little. Perhaps he'd managed to evade whoever was following him. He looked out the transport window and caught his reflection in the mirror. Pretty blue eyes.
He'd been called many things his day, but "pretty" had never been one of them. Looking attractive had never been as important to him as looking professional; and the only time he spent looking in the mirror anymore was when he had to touch up the bright white markings lacquered across his face. Even then, it was more as a point of turian pride than personal vanity. Afterall, who did he have to look good for?
Nobody, he told himself forcefully. Other people were nothing but a liability, and he didn't have the time nor the inclination to maintain any close relationships. They just weren't worth the bother.
When Pallin's shuttle arrived outside the Academy steps, he was greeted by the guards outside. He questioned them about any suspicious persons on the premises, but both turians told him it'd been quiet all morning. He granted them each a small nod of approval before tucking his papers under his arm and entering the Academy foyer.
He was surprised to see how empty the room was, at least by C-Sec standards. Normally, the place was packed and anyone could slip in unnoticed among the sea of bodies, but luckily, today was slow. One asari secretary offered to bring him refreshment and two more said almost robotically polite good mornings as he passed by them. He sent the first asari away to fetch him something to drink, then asked one of the others to get him an update on the tech department's attempt to track down whoever was harassing him. Both inclined their heads respectfully and went on their way. At least asari courtesy was something he could still count on amidst the day's upheaval.
He made his way up the stairs to his office on the second floor, waving off any recruits that tried to engage him. There were plenty of other senior officers around that they could pester with their questions. When he reached his room, he nervously opened the airlock, hoping he wouldn't find any surprises inside. The office was as empty and immaculate as he'd left it, and he collapsed into his heavily padded chair gratefully. He dropped his documents on his desk and rubbed his temples wearily. Stalkers, recruit rosters, loud-mouthed volus - today just wasn't his day.
By the time the asari aid arrived with his beverage, he'd already managed to straighten up and get to work on the file folders. His day or no, there was work to be done, and besides, his omni-tool hadn't sounded since he'd left the Embassy. Maybe his techs had already located the messages source and managed to shut it down. The asari sat a cup and saucer at the edge of his desk then waited to be dismissed. Pallin thanked her and she exited quietly. He took a sip of the hot liquid as he scanned the file folder of a Jacoby M. Hayes.
A red-headed human grinned exuberantly from the small photo pinned to the folders front flap. The short bio pegged him as twenty-four years old, earth-born, and a cyber-crime specialist for a private firm back on his home planet. Pallin read the human's credentials and psychological profile before placing it in his accepted pile.
His stack of folders had been almost cut in half when the second asari arrived with news from the tech department. She explained that they had located the caller and a team from the Investigation division was already en route. Pallin nodded thankfully and waved her out after the brief report, but she paused hesitantly.
"Also, a delivery has just arrived for you, Executor," she added. The turian tensed.
"Delivery?" he echoed. Unexpected packages were never a good thing in his book, and his hand went straight to the dial for Special Response. He wasn't going near the thing until he had a bomb-squad in place.
"That won't be necessary, sir," the asari interjected. Pallin was about to ask her just who was giving the orders around C-Sec when the look on her face stopped him. She seemed amused and even a little curious. "I think you should see for yourself, sir."