"I think that's him," Conroy said discretely to Cameli as he looked over the sea of heads at the hall, nodding towards a salarian, the owner of the tower and consequently the host of the party, who was standing several meters away. He had a colourful cocktail in his hand and was in the midst of a crowd of four of his guests, as he conversed and entertained them.
"You're right," Cameli said after confirming their mark with her own eyes, "Go do your thing." She released her grasp of Conroy's arm as he grabbed a cocktail of his own from a passing waiter and ran his fingers backwards through his hair.
"The power systems should be in the east wing of this floor," Zig reminded over the communications, "I'll guide you through it."
With that, Cameli moved away with slight haste whilst maintaining her elegant stroll, so that if people were to catch on to her hurriedness, they would only assume that she was on her way to the bathroom, or somewhere else other than the power systems control room.
Weaving her way through the crowd, remembering to maintain a soft smile on her face to avoid suspicion, she quietly observed all of the guests seemingly enjoying their times, holding cocktails in one hand and expensive purses in the other with wide smiles on their faces, although she knew that many of them probably had ulterior motives and a touch of 'bad'; CEOs using illegal slave labour to cut back on costs, arms dealers selling stolen military weapons to mercenaries, the list went on. Somehow, knowing this made stealing from them, whether it was information, tangible objects, credits or even lives, easier for Cameli; it made her feel that they weren't above her, that they were just equals fighting for a piece of a finite sized cake in this chaotic galaxy. Trying to get by, although some of them were doing much better for themselves than just 'getting by'.
Eventually, Cameli arrived at a narrow hallway that led to a separate area from the main hall, directed by Zig through the comms, which she followed through until it arrived at a dead end with a locked door. A turian guard was standing in front of the door, except unlike those which were guarding the front entrance to the building this one was only armed with a handgun and was wearing light armour. She assumed that the host had thought that all of the threats would be able to be weeded out before entering the premises, and that this guard was just a precaution for curious, but mostly harmless guests.
"The room's locked and there's a guard, lightly armed," Cameli whispered into her communicator so as to not reveal her presence. The guard, who had probably gotten bored, was checking and rechecking the latches on his armour and had yet to realise that Cameli was standing there. For this, Cameli silently both thanked the guard, for being careless, and reprimanded him for the same reason, as a fellow disciplined turian, despite not being on the same side nor his superior. "No cameras," she added as she noticed that there were no security cameras set along the ceiling.
"The guard should have the digital key on his omnitool, except he's probably locked it, like any sane person would," Zig said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Deal with him and get inside."
Looking at the guard from afar, Cameli knew exactly what she had to do; he was a turian man, and turian men were all the same. Entering his field of view with a confident stride, her hips swaying slightly from side to side, she approached the turian guard until he finally noticed her.
"Ma'am, this is a dead end for you," the guard said clearly as he raised his hand, "Staff only past this door."
"Oh," Cameli said in her most innocent voice she could manage, "My apologies. I was just looking for the wash room." She leaned her head in to show off her fringe, which she knew looked good. Noticing that the guard's eyes momentarily wondered away from her eyes to somewhere a little above before returning to them, she pushed a little more, adjusting her body language to shift the guard's attention to her 'supportive' waist.
The guard was obviously failing under her influence, more so as she locked eyes with him with a look that screamed lust. "Say," Cameli continued, "Would you mind sharing extranet addresses?"
The guard, looking as if he would be willing to share much more than just extranet addresses in a heartbeat, agreed almost instantly, while still attempting, and failing, to sound nonchalant, "Sure, why not?"
The moment that the guard unlocked and activated his omnitool was the one in which Cameli struck. With uncanny strength and swiftness, Cameli kneed the guard in the groin, sending a jolt of pain, amplified by the fact that he had been aroused, with such intensity throughout his body that his scream was muted as he bent forward in shock. She then covered the guard's mouth and grabbed his chin with her left hand, to ensure that his scream would remain muted for what she was about to do, and grabbed his left mandible with her right. The guard's eyes, already wide from the excruciating and sudden pain, widened further as he felt Cameli's grip on his face. Yet it was too late now, there was no time to react.
The instant that Cameli was able to get a firm grip on the guard's chin and his mandible, she pulled them apart from each other until she heard a sickening crunch of the extension breaking off of its base, to which the guard's body went limp. Holding his body upright, she checked if the guard was still alive. Still breathing, she confirmed as she felt his weak yet present breaths on her face, before gently laying his body down in the corner.
Cameli reached down and grabbed the guard's arm to access his unlocked omnitool, transferring the digital key over to that of her own and within seconds she had gained access to the room. Upon the opening of the door and making sure that the room was devoid of any personnel presence, Cameli dragged the still unconscious guard through the door and into the control room, which was filled with various screens and user interfaces, dropping him in a hidden corner behind a particularly large terminal.
"Alright," Cameli whispered, although she didn't really have to, "I'm in."
"Good. Is the guard still in one piece?" Zig asked suspiciously.
"Mostly," Cameli replied with a devilish smirk as she stretched out her talons in preparation for the task ahead of her, "Now what?"
"Now you do exactly as I say," Zig replied before he started relaying the information Cameli required for her to tamper with the tower's power systems just right; not enough to warrant an emergency, but enough to desire a fix.
Conroy took a small sip from his cocktail as he scanned over the area, analysing the situation. Vinar Fin, the host and their target, was walking around the hall from group to group, making sure to entertain all of his guests. It was taking a little longer for the group Conroy had embedded himself into, consisting of three other strangers turned acquaintances, to get their turn, but Fin would arrive eventually. Preferring to do things 'on the fly', despite Zig's persistent criticism, Conroy had not yet planned on how to actually get the salarian to the control room, so really he didn't mind the extra time they were getting before the host arrived. It was then that the turian woman in his current conversation group, D'Len, snapped him out of his thoughts with her sharp, unusually high pitched voice, "And then, the volus tripped and tumbled down the entire flight of stairs!"
The four of them within the group laughed calculatedly as they continued to listen to D'Len's tale with feigned interest, filling in the gaps with gasps, sighs and shakes of the head appropriately. This continued until Fin finally arrived at their group.
"Good evening!" Fin welcomed loudly as he approached the four of them as they expanded the circular formation they had formed in order to fit an extra member, "I hope you are all enjoying your night so far."
"We are indeed. Everything is quite splendid, in fact," D'Len complemented with a bright smile, despite the fact that she was slightly annoyed that the spotlight was no longer on her, although Conroy was unsure if the others had caught on to it. Turian micro-expressions were difficult to catch unless you were doing it consistently and intentionally. Judging from her eagerness to be the centre of attention and her colony markings, Conroy guessed that despite being rich and powerful nowadays, D'Len had started off from a poorer background and hustled and fought her way to the top. A woman of action, he thought to himself. He had once known another turian woman with the same markings as D'Len, who had told him about her poverty stricken colony of origin.
"Especially the drinks," Conroy added, raising the cocktail he was holding towards Fin, who looked pleased, "Speaking of which, I've heard you're quite a fan of good drinks yourself."
To this comment, Fin looked genuinely surprised, eyes widened and rapidly blinking, "Yes, that is very true. I am a collector, of sorts."
The truth was that Conroy hadn't actually heard about it at all, it was just a guess. The scotch used in the cocktail Conroy was holding, which he was able to recognise by its distinctive taste, was one which he had always thought of as a bottle that people who didn't have much real taste for drinks bought, typically because it was recommended by a guide or some critic that was secretly 'sponsored' by the distillery. In his experience, these were also the people that were the last to admit that they had no real idea what they were talking about but liked to brag about their collection.
As expected, Fin spoke about his whiskey collection and how robust it was over the span of several minutes, before continuing on to talk about his empire and fortune for even longer, all the while the group listened intently and reacted appropriately at each cue, just as they had done with D'Len. Most of it, Conroy already knew, but the biggest nugget of information that he took away from Fin's speech, was that the salarian's pride was misplaced, yet extreme. Fin, a contact had informed Conroy, was the opposite of D'Len in that he had been born into wealth and had been destined to become powerful before he even took his first steps.
"Cameli is about to tamper with the power systems" Zig notified over the communicator before quickly cutting off the line, not expecting a reply; Conroy was almost always embedded within a crowd and unable to give verbal confirmation.
Suddenly, Conroy had an idea. "Glad to know you're a knowledgeable and capable leader," he complimented Fin, "Too many out there nowadays give themselves that title without knowing the difference between leading and ordering." Analysing the salarian's expression very closely, Conroy noticed that the timid prince was looking a little uncomfortable beneath the smile that was plastered across his face.
"You're exactly right, Mister Long," D'Len agreed, addressing Conroy by the name he introduced himself with, before proceeding into another short speech about how too many so called leaders were actually incapable and spineless, each spoken word making Fin all the more uncomfortable, Conroy could tell, although once again, he was unsure if the others could.
"And that is why we need more leaders such as yourself, Mister Fin," D'Len finished and, as if on cue, the lights flickered heavily for a moment, before slightly dimming permanently.
"Strange," Fin muttered as he looked towards the lights embedded into the ceiling far above him, when one of the staff members approached him to offer to investigate the power control room, to which the salarian host waved his hand in declination. "It's alright," Fin spoke with a slightly forced air of authority, "I'll investigate it myself."
Just as Conroy had anticipated, there was no way that a man with such pride and hubris could let himself act in a way that might put him at even the slightest risk of being seen as weak or incompetent after hearing a speech like the one D'Len had just given. "If you'll excuse me," Fin said with a nod towards his guests, before briskly walking away and heading towards the power control room.