"Misfortune tests friends, and detects enemies." -Krihan Huti, Krogan Warlord
Omega blew his mind.
Kolyat liked to think he was worldly. After all, he was a C-Sec officer-in-training, he lived in the Wards, the closest the Citadel came to an 'underbelly'. And life had been pretty exciting for him lately.
But really, nothing could have prepared him for Omega. As soon as the transport-module doors opened, he could feel heavy bass thumping under his feet. The air was thick with the acrid smell of so many people in a small, inadequately ventilated space.
Kolyat tried to walk with purpose through the crowd, tried to act disinterested in the towering neon-lit clubs that made the ones in the Wards look like outhouses. But he was starting to feel seriously out of his depth. And more than a little intrigued.
The trip from the Citadel had given him time to plan. He had no idea how long he would be here, but thanks to Shepard he had enough credits to last for quite some time, if he was careful. He would get a hotel room, order out, and generally lay low until Shepard found the right person to show his father's death certificate to. Unless...
...it information they were after. That could be more complicated. It was difficult living in the shadow of Thane Krios, supposedly the penultimate assassin in the galaxy, even though he was gone now. His father had killed a lot of powerful people, and the fallout hadn't always landed only on him.
(His father's hand trembles on his shoulder as they watch the sea. "Are you going away? Again?" His face is stoic, but his eyes never leave the horizon. When his father looks at him he can see pain in his eyes. He says it's because he looks so much like her. Yes, he is going away again. )
Kolyat shook his head to clear it, and blew out a long breath. Yes, if it was information or revenge the Shadow Broker was after, he could be here for a long time.
He was so busy considering his options that he didn't notice immediately that he was being followed. But as he turned toward a residential district and away from the crowds then he saw them: four Asari, all wearing similar yellow armor.
His hand found the pistol on his hip instinctively, but reason stopped him from drawing. It was probably not a good idea to get into a fire-fight within five minutes of landing on Omega, especially since he was supposed to be undercover.
Kolyat ducked down an alleyway and took off running, his boots thudding on the metal deck-plating. He didn't have his father's silent step, unfortunately.
"Hey kid!" One of the Asari behind him yelled, and reflexively, he turned to look....
...And plowed right into a rather large Batarian. It was like running into a stone wall. He impacted with him and was thrown backwards with enough force to land on his backside on the ground.
Kolyat scrambled back onto his feet just as the Asari were catching up to him.
"I'm terribly sorry, Sir. Excuse me but..." He stammered at the enormous Batarian, trying to push past him, but a huge hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, actually lifting him off the ground.
"You little shit!" He declared. The Asari were gathered around in a semi-circle, cackling at his misfortune. Kolyat saw the Batarian's other fist coming toward his face, then nothing.
-
Mordin Solus was running new medication trials when his intern, a Human girl called Mira, pounded on the door to his lab.
"Dr. Solus! We have a patient we need your help with!" Her muffled voice came through the door.
Mordin abandoned his console with a sigh. There was never time for research lately.
"I'm coming!" He said, pushing away from the desk and standing. He opened the air-tight door. Mira looked a bit dishevelled and even more wide-eyed than normal.
While they walked down the hallway to the clinic proper, she briefed him.
"Patient has multiple contusions and lacerations, several broken ribs, and likely a concussion."
Annoyance crept into Mordin's voice. "Contusions? Hardly an emergency. Daniel can administer treatment."
Mira looked uncomfortable. "Actually he can't, Sir. We're having difficulty identifying the race of the patient. He's nothing we've ever seen before."
They rounded the corner and entered one of the treatment rooms. Daniel was looking down at the patient, his arms crossed.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor. It's just that I don't want to proceed with treatment without a positive ID. I've never seen his kind before, and I'm not having much luck with the extranet, either." He gestured at the prone form on the table.
Mordin circled the table, snapping on a pair of gloves. "Patient is Drell. Native of Kahji. Small, reclusive population likely source of unfamiliarity. Research later."
Mordin pried open the Drell's first eyelids, then the nictitating membranes underneath. He pulled his overhead light down to compensate for the dark pigmentation of Drell eyes. This particular specimen had one hugely dilated pupil, a more-or-less universally bad sign.
"Heavy concussion. Start 500 CC's of..." Mordin's statement ground to a halt. He knew this patient. Maybe.
"Did patient have ID?" He asked Daniel and Mira.
Mira shook her head. "Whoever shook him down took it along with whatever else he had on him."
Mordin was uncharacteristically silent. He felt increasingly sure that this was Thane Krios' son. When they'd traveled together Thane had shown him a small holographic image of Kolyat as a child. He was considerably older now, of course, but Drell facial features didn't change much with age.
Thane was dead now, of course. Mordin had been genuinely saddened to hear it. But maybe that explained how Kolyat ended up on Omega. But there would be time later for questions.
"Hmm. Well, cut the shirt off. Will take a look at ribs." Mordin said, pulling on a mask.
-
Kolyat woke up because the rhythmic pounding in his head was too loud to sleep through. He brought a hand to his closed eyes. When he opened them, bright light blinded him.
He remembered running from the Asari gang, the Batarian's giant fist, then nothing. He was doing a great job of being inconspicuous so far.
"Ah. Mr. Krios. Good morning." A voice said.
He was apparently also doing a great job of being undercover.
His eyes were finally adjusting to the light, and he could now see his surroundings. It was a hospital or clinic, run-down but clean. The owner of the voice was a Salarian. He was missing his right horn and his face was covered in scars and tattoos. Not your average doctor.
"Who are you? Where am I? How do you know who I am?" Kolyat sat up on the cot, clutching his ribs. Everything still seemed to be mostly where it was supposed to be...except his omni-tool, and with it, his credits and ID. Also, to his extreme embarrassment, he was wearing nothing but a paper gown of sorts. His dignity was taking quite a beating lately.
"Dr. Mordin Solus. You are in my clinic. I knew your father." He said, pacing.
Kolyat felt the blood drain from his face. "Did he kill someone you liked? Are you going to eviscerate me now?"
Mordin actually smiled. "No evisceration. Liked your father. A good man in his own way. Was saddened by his demise."
Kolyat only nodded. Mordin tossed him his pants and jacket then turned his back while he dressed.
"Why come to Omega? Nothing here but gangs and slums."
Kolyat was pulling his boots on very slowly, wincing. Everything hurt.
"I can't say. I appreciate your helping me, but I can't tell you. And no one else can know I'm here."
"More trouble? Plenty of trouble two years ago. Take up assassination after all?"
Kolyat sat back in surprise. "Exactly how well did you know my father?" He said.
"Quite well. Travelled with Thane and Shepard during campaign against Collectors."
"Shepard? Thank the Maker." If she trusted him, hopefully he could too. Not that he had much choice, since he was now penniless and without ID of any kind. "Shepard sent me here. The Shadow Broker's been sending agents after me. They're looking for my father."
Mordin's eyes widened. "The Shadow Broker? He knows Thane is dead."
"That's what I said. But they are definitely after me, and Shepard too. She packed me onto a transport and sent me here with 10,000 credits and a fake ID. Which are both gone now, and I'm stuck here until she sorts it out."
Mordin frowned. "Doesn't add up. Will consult contacts. Stay here until situation resolved." He stalked out of the room, leaving Kolyat standing alone. And more than a little confused.
-
His console warned him that the call could not be completed, but Mordin let the unanswered request go for a long time before terminating it in frustration. Shepard had to be somewhere other than the Citadel. In fact, she was probably somewhere in deep space if there were no comm buoys within range. He drummed his fingers on the desk.
Mordin spent his entire young life in the Salarian STG doing espionage work. At times they'd bought information from the Shadow Broker's agents. And the Shadow Broker's intel was very rarely wrong. Especially about something as simple as whether a man was dead or alive.
No, this didn't add up.
Mordin thought over his options. Lately, he knew no one with more than tenuous connections to the Shadow Broker. But he did know people with connections to Shepard. And the Migrant Fleet was passing through the Sahrabarik system.
He put a communications request through to Tali'Zorah Vas Neema.