Omega's Child

(Khentu Emrys)

Location: Little Egypt, Doru District, Omega


'Thoth' was the name Uncle Nasser had given to the one-time apartment complex, now his headquarters for the Blood Arrows. It looked like what it had once been, a towering, rectangular structure with no class whatsoever, even compared to the battered buildings around it.

My father seemed to be in a sour mood as he led the same Arrows of Knesset who had gathered at the Pyramid just the night before. The Blood Arrows were scrambling to their feet and making their salutes as we passed. More than a few of them were staring incredulously at my father, who hadn't stepped foot in his brother's territory for…. Horus, I couldn't remember how long ago that had happened. Years, at least.

Two slaves came to their feet and pushed open the massive doors leading to the courtyard.

"The AK's, Pharaoh!" A robed servant within called out, only to earn the cold stare from my Father.

"The… the Arrows of Knesset!" He stammered the correction, giving our branch of the Blood Arrows our full name. He then went to both knees, prostrating himself as flat as he could to avert my father's glare of displeasure. As we entered, a large crowd had already assembled, split into three groups that I instantly recognized:

Abdul and the rest of the main Blood Arrow commanders were in the same armor and dress as before, but beside them, the black-robed priests were obviously the Sand Jackals, with Haty-a Gideon Avram at their head. The Proto-Egyptian cult that was the common denominator between all the sub-gangs of the Blood Arrows had their most fanatical followers in the Jackals. Most of the Arrows were a lot like me, I suspected: going through the motions of the religion and accepting it for the most part as a unifying and necessary part of the gang's culture and history.

Avram and the rest of the Jackals, by contrast, genuinely believed that their souls were destined to be gathered by Anubis when they died, and then weighed before Osiris and the Devourer before passing to the Under-verse. Almost every square inch of their bodies was tattooed with ankhs and other religious symbols, to ward off evil and defend the bearer in battle.

Needless to say, nearly everyone else in the Arrows had as little interaction with Jackals as possible.

The second group were all naked to the waist, except for beaded necklaces and body paint. The effect was obviously more striking for the female members than the males, but the Pit Vipers had earned their fearsome reputation by generally being just batshit insane. Each of them wore heavy necklaces made of shards of metal or bone, trophies of kills and victories in battle. Their Haty-a, a scarred old warrior named Bomazi, strode forward to take Father's arm in his own and the two pressed their foreheads together, their arrow-shaped tattoos (the only thing the various groups all had in common) touching in greeting.

"Ahh! Now we can truly say to have gathered the most noble warriors of this station!"

Father's eye blinked slowly, and I could see him draw a deep breath before he turned around to face our Pharaoh. Gone was the tuxedo from before. Now Uncle Nasser was dressed as any resident of Omega: Military cargo pants were accentuated with a leather vest, over which a thick coat was worn. All of it was new and spotless, however, which still made him stand out when put next to a figure like our father. Nasser Emrys and Mentu Emrys squared off with one another, and then my father nodded, slowly.

"Amun-Ra's light shine on the Pharaoh, and illuminate his path to our victory," he stated in a monotone voice, clasping his hands together and bowing slightly at the waist. Uncle Nasser stepped forward and placed his hands over Father's.

"And may those paths lead you to fertile pastures, and good homes and futures for your children, and your children's children," he answered with the ceremonial reply. "Welcome… brother."

That surprised Mentu, and I rarely saw my father surprised or taken off-guard. But he managed a nod and stepped back into the circle that had now formed around Nasser.

"Brothers, sisters… my children," Nasser began, his arms outstretched, "I have seen the future… and it is ours."

A man I didn't recognize, but wearing the spotlessly-white armor we had seen from the docks earlier, stepped forward and placed a small orb on a pedestal set up in the courtyard. The orb blinked twice, and then suddenly shone with a brilliant light. All around us was suddenly the projection of…

Of…

"Amun-Ra…" My father whispered in awe, and he wasn't the only one.

It was a three-dimensional projection, not dissimilar to ones I had seen in some of the brothels or bars up on the Afterlife district, usually projecting things like waterfalls, or trees. This, on the other hand, was…

The three great pyramids of Giza rose in front of us, projected in startling clarity. Most of the Jackals were on their knees at the sacred sight, murmurs prayers of thanks to Amun-Ra. Above us, crystal-clear blue skies appeared, unobstructed by buildings. The overall effect was… disquieting, really. For many of the younger Humans gathered, myself included, this was the first time any of us had ever seen a sky, even a fake one.

I, and most of the rest, quickly lowered our gazes rather than stare into that odd sight.

"I stood before the Sacred Pyramids," Nasser went on, "Beneath the light and warmth of Amun-Ra himself, my children, not the cold and unfeeling light of Sahrabarik. And it was there that I was granted a vision… in the light of the Sun – the rise of New Egypt has begun."

The Jackals all murmured in awe and wonder, while Father and Bomazi shared a look whose doubtful objectivity did not escape me.

"For too long, the children of the Arrow have been spat upon, tread upon, and held down by those who dare to think themselves our betters. Now, now more!" An uneasy murmur ran through the crowd as a whole as heads nodded in understanding of where Uncle was going with this: This was a speech calling for war. "We will no longer cower in the shadows, accepting the scraps of others. We will step into the light of Amun-Ra, and take the territory of the faithless Outsiders for ourselves!"

"Your Pardon, Great Pharaoh?" Father boomed oved the eager shouts from some of the younger members of the circle. These were quickly hushed and all eyes turned to Mentu.

"We are grateful to Amun-Ra for granting this vision unto you, Pharaoh," he stated evenly. "But you speak as though the Outsiders' territory was ours for the wishing of it, or that we have somehow been idle during the year you have been away…"

Growls of agreement came from largely the Vipers and the AK's.

"Nothing of the sort," Nasser reassured quickly. "Abdul has spent these few hours telling me of the mighty deeds and great battles you have fought during my holy pilgrimage."

The last few words were directed at my father, who merely nodded, once, before replying.

"Nevertheless, a true war is something we are ill-prepared for," he stated slowly. "The Brotherhood and the Talons are forcing the True Sons out of Tuhi, gathering strength and territory unto themselves. The Consortium has used their gains from the Blue Suns War to secure a firm alliance with the Black Queen herself. The Eclipse…"

Father left the laughable notion of our small gang taking on the Eclipse enclave on Doru unspoken.

"We are as you see us," He continued, "Strong here within Little Egypt, within our holy enclave, but we are too few and too weak to secure new territory."

"An army following the will of Amun-Ra cannot be defeated!" Avram rasped, rising from his knees. "What are numbers compared to the blessing and presence of the Sun God?"

"And how many battalions does the Sun God command?" Mentu retorted sarcastically, Ptolemy and I both covering snorts and grins.

That got the Jackals on their feet, as Avram hissed "Blasphemy", and a curved dagger appeared in his hand. The AK's and Vipers also tensed now and weapons were grasped, while my brother and I both shifted to cover Father's sides.

"Enough!" Uncle Nasser stepped forward to place himself directly between Father and Avram, glaring at both disapprovingly. "We will not fight amongst ourselves, not now, not when our appointed time has been set by the gods."

Both of his subordinates shifted uncomfortably before bowing their heads in submission to their Pharaoh, weapons sliding back into sheaths as everyone settled back down.

Nasser waited a few moments before going on, "I am not such a fool as to believe that my presence alone will cause our enemies to turn tail and run, nor would I return from such a holy Pilgrimage empty-handed, my children."

Abdul, now wearing a mischievous grin, clapped his hands three times, the sound echoing against the concrete walls of the courtyard. Several pairs of slaves appeared, each carrying a black case between them. The men parted to let them through, and the crates were stacked in a neat line.

Nasser's grin could have matched a Vorcha's as he threw open the first crate.

Gasps went around the circle, almost to match the sight of the projector. For here at least, was a sight just as sacred on Omega, and infinitely more practical.

"Elkoss Combine Model-8 Avenger Assault Rifle," The white armored stranger spoke up, picking up one of the weapons. "Mark 1 model."

He pulled on the charger handle, and a red light illuminated the weapons ominously.

"Can be fired semi-automatically, with 34 consecutive shots before overheating," he continued. "Or full-auto with considerably less."

"How many of these weapons have you secured?" Father asked Nasser, and I could see a thousand gears turning in his mind. But it was the stranger who answered.

"By the end of the week, we will have three hundred cases on-station, with five rifles per case."

Ptolemy and I met each other's gaze as a murmur of astonishment ran through the group. That was enough to put a rifle in the hands of every Blood Arrow in Little Egypt, and then some. Fifteen hundred well-armed fighters didn't just represent a much-needed boost to our gang: it represented a power shift for the entire District.

"How are these weapons being brought onto the station, without the attention of T'Loak?" Mentu asked, still pointedly not addressing the cocky stranger.

"We have our ways," the white-armored man answered.

"Is he your tongue now, Pharaoh?" Father hissed angrily.

"Warriors," Nasser said gently, coming to place a hand on the man's shoulder. "Meet Jacob Orr, the newest Hyksos of the Blood Arrows."

Father's brow darkened, and his wasn't the only one. A Hyksos was only one rank beneath a Haty-a in the Arrows. An offworld stranger being promoted over the heads of veteran members was… unprecedented, to say the least.

"If he is truly an Arrow, where is his mark?" Someone in the crowd asked.

Jacob Orr merely reached a hand up to brush back his black hair from his forehead, revealing that in fact a white arrow tattoo spanned the bridge of his nose and ran up along his forehead.

"And what great Deed did Mister Orr do to earn his mark?" Bomazi asked darkly.

"You first complain that he has no mark, and now you complain that he has one, brothers?" Nasser chuckled. "Make up your minds, at least."

"We are no True Son bastards, to let anyone in off the streets," Father answered, "If he would bear our mark and claim our brotherhood, we would hear his Deed."

Nasser looked as he would object again, but Jacob Orr held up a hand.

"It's alright, Pharaoh," he stated, and the word was strange in his accent, with the heavy 'r' sound almost turning the word into Far-row. "I bring not only these rifles to the Blood Arrows, but forty of my fellow Terrans will be smuggling them onto the station, along with other supplies to strengthen Amun-Ra's children."

"Over the next several weeks," Nasser continued. "Orr and his men will be passing out these new rifles, and training you and your warriors in their use and care. There are enough rifles here today for everyone present."

People were already clambering forward towards the cases now, opening them and passing out the shiny new weapons eagerly. Someone handed me one, and I stepped out of the press to examine the new weapon. My main source of wonder was how light it was: even with the dual rail system, it weighed almost nothing at all, certainly in comparison with the Batarian Prophet I had back in my locker. I pulled the charging handle as I had seen Orr do, and was rewarded with the red display lighting up above the weapon's trigger-guard.

"The weapon has a 'Fold' function for easy carry and storage," Orr stated loudly, his voice easily carrying over the buzz of conversation. "Find the tab on the bottom of the stock and depress it… thus."

The rifle in my hands folded down, and the stock retracted into the main body of the gun, leaving me with a roughly-rectangle shape box of plastic and metal.

"Press it again to fold the weapon back into Active Mode," Orr stated, demonstrating the movement, his rectangle unfolding directly into his hand, unlike most of the Arrows, who fumbled with their guns as they suddenly found themselves holding the barrels or various awkward parts of the weapon.

I had to give it to him, Orr was a patient and skilled instructor. Strange beyond that, and very out of place, but he was good at what our Pharaoh wanted from him right now. The next hour or so was spent making sure the forty or so Blood Arrow officers had the hang of their Avengers, and could deploy their weapon without shooting themselves or any of their friends in the face.

"Equip your warriors," Nasser spoke at last, after Orr gave him a satisfied nod. "Prepare for battle. When the time is right, we will strike out against our enemies. No one is to move or attack preemptively without my word. Is that clear?"

The nods that met his words were equally obedient and disappointed.

"These new rifles will be an advantage in battle, yes," Nasser went on, "But our enemies are deploying their strength elsewhere, and think their numbers are sufficient to contain our strength. Showing our hand too early will allow them to bring in reinforcements in such numbers as to render our technological advantage null and void. Anyone who launches any kind of raid without their Pharaoh's approval shall be dealt with… harshly."

Understanding crossed the faces of the doubters in the room, and the buzz turned excited as the Pharaoh dismissed us, and we began streaming out of the courtyard, bound for our various territories. Bomazi and Father were speaking in hushed tones before we broke off and headed back towards our own district of Little Egypt. Hatshepsut moved beside him and opened her mouth to say something, but Father only raised a hand.

"Not here," he said in a low growl. "Pyramid."

An hour or so later, we were sitting down around the long table of the Pyramid's back room…. Again.

"Gone long time, our Pharaoh," Ivan stated to break the thoughtful silence. "Need strike to show strength."

"That makes sense," I agreed. "He wants to remind the rest of the Arrows that he's still the top varren around here."

"No," Ptolemy interrupted. "This is something else. Something larger, on a grander scale…"

Father nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then shot O'Shea a glance. "Mike? What about this… Orr?"

"Canadian, by his accent," the Earth-born Arrow shrugged, as if that meant something to any of us. "Ex-Alliance, by his bearing, or I'm a squint. And here, look here on the stock."

He then lifted his own Avenger onto the table, unfolding it and pointing to a series of numbers.

"Armory Serial Number #183E2037," he read slowly. "These came from an Alliance armory, once upon a time. And here," the weapon was turned over, "M.F.D. 1/30/81. That means 'Marked For Destruction,' for January of this year."

"Must be really old weapons..." I asked, "Aren't the Avengers up to Mark nine or something?"

"Ten." O'Shea corrected me, but the number didn't mean much. Just a confirmation that these were old guns that were supposed to be destroyed, not given to a gang on Omega.

"Whoever this Orr is," Nobu stated slowly, "He is able to steal weapons from the Great Alliance itself?"

"Or whoever the Alliance is entrusting to destroy the weapons," O'Shea nodded in agreement.

"Nasser must have found a benefactor of some sorts while he was on Earth," Hattie spoke up, for once making sense. "Whoever they are, they're either stinking rich, or have their thumbs up the asses of people who are."

"We must move with caution," Rashid stated. "Whatever our Pharaoh's orders, news that Arrows have been seen bearing brand-new weapons is sure to spread the news like wildfire around the station."

"Assuming that none of the Jackals sell theirs to pay for their Dust," O'Shea snorted in derision. "Karking junkies…"

"I agree with Rashid," Father spoke up suddenly, and his gaze grew hard and determined. "We close ranks, and meet these… newcomers with eyes and ears open. Khentu?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Yes?"

"No contact with your… crew. We can't risk any word of this getting to the Eclipse, or to our rivals."

I frowned, but nodded. As much as the three of us had worked together, I didn't want to put them in the position of choosing between their race and their friendship with me.

"And that goes for all of you," Father continued. "No Outsiders in our territory from here on out. Nobu, Ivan, raise the barricades. Anyone challenges or questions, tell them we're guarding against True Sons raiding on their way down from Tuhi."

The two giants nodded. That answer would satisfy of our neighbors, if only because it was mostly true: Survivors, or more likely deserters, from the True Sons were streaming back down to the Lowers, and many of them thought looting or pillaging on the way down was a good idea. Consequently, most of the gangs in Doru were also dealing with the assholes, and it was probably the gods' own luck that we hadn't had to yet.

"Rashid, call out the militia. A full muster. Go through each and every one of them personally. I need to know who is capable of fighting in a pitched battle, and who needs to be guarding a street corner."

The wiry man nodded.

"Alhabib. Beloved." Hatshepsut leaned forward eagerly... making sure that the table got a great view down her shirt, I noticed. "I need a full count of our stores. Rifles, blades, the food reserves, and the medical supplies. If we must suffer a siege, I need to know how long we can last."

"As you command, my love," Hattie replied in a breathy tone that made my brother and I roll our eyes.

"Ptolemy." My older brother straightened in his chair. "I'm giving you the Cavern Dogs. Head to the Warrens tomorrow and take command there."

Ptolemy raised an eyebrow. "I thank you for your trust, Father, but Lydia Chang is proud and competent, she might not…"

"Chang and her band are alive by our generosity," Father interrupted. "They will agree to the burn-over, or they will… move on. I need people I can trust, and I need fighters for this... war that Nasser is planning, not gutter-swept trash."

"Turning street thugs into fighters," I chuckled. "Good luck with that, Tol."

"He won't need luck," Father stated, and a slight smile came across his lips. "You're going with him."

I blinked. Twice. "What."


Broken Image

(Laila Adonis)

Location: The Warrens, Lower Doru District, Omega


The Warrens were aptly named. Rather than a neighborhood designed and built simultaneously, the labyrinthine network of buildings had been built over a space of some four centuries, one on top of the other, and rock chipped away from the asteroid to create more room. Some of the older buildings, like the one we were now standing in, had been carved from solid rock by some long-dead but industrious denizens of Omega.

Most areas were so chaotic and confused that no one sane dared go into them for fear of not finding your way back out. A lot of the old buildings, caves, tunnels, and streets were lightless, rotting places filled with things that didn't really qualify as 'sapient' anymore. But a few areas were mapped out enough, useful enough, and close enough to the nice areas of the station to actually see visitors and use.

The sign in front of the building advertised it as "The Desert Sands Casino." It was the only business that I'd ever heard of operating in the Warrens, and it only managed it by having its front door in a short tunnel that lead right up to the top of Doru. Ostensibly, it was a place to kick back and relax after a hard day's work. In reality, it was a place where the rich got back most of the few credits they paid the workers, either at the gambling tables up front or in the drug dens in the back.

The slaves moved from the kitchens, such as they were, to the tables. Assuming they weren't grabbed and dragged into the booths for the entertainment of the paying customers. Fortunately, that wasn't something I had to worry about. Currently. The fact that I was wearing clothes seemed to be enough to convey that I was off the regular menu. As the personal property of the owner, my time was spent largely waiting upon him and servicing his needs… whatever they may be.

However degrading and humiliating my day-to-day life was, I kept on reminding myself that it was a step up from where I had been. Shith was the type of slave dealer that gave slave dealers a bad name. He'd specialized in 'reclamation projects'... i.e.; slaves who'd shown some rebellion in the past. His solutions to 'tame' them were brutal and vicious even by Omega's standards... Spirits, I could still hear the mewling cries of the other slaves in their pens as he satisfied his sadistic tastes.

When Ashik ul Matte had shown up and been willing to pay double for a skilled coder, it had taken all of my considerable self-control not to look overjoyed.

The memories caused me to pause and send a silent prayer to the spirits to look after that poor Quarian who had been in the cell next to mine. Her throat had been slit and then clumsily patched by one of Omega's useless sawbones before being handed off to Shith. Compared to her, my lot in life was lucky, and I knew it. My talons may have been filled down to harmless nubs, but I was alive, wasn't currently being used as a sex-toy, and had a decent change of keeping both of those things true for a while.

"Laila!"

My master's call brought back to the present, and I moved quickly through the mass of gamblers and drunkards to stop just behind his shoulder.

"Master?" I answered, cocking my head to the left in the Batarian fashion. He had liked that I knew how to behave around Batarians when he had bought me, and that made him… slightly less cruel than he might have been, I thought.

"Table Five has shorted out again," He stated, without turning his very rotund figure to face me. "Work your magic, and get it up and running again."

"As my lord wishes," I replied evenly, stepping backwards a few paces before turning my back to leave.

Ashik had needed someone who could keep the electronic quasar slots and gambling tables running and in order, as well as code them to mostly favor the House. Only a truly stupid casino rigged them to always win: word got around the station about those types of casinos, and that was a fast way to lose your customer base. No, the trick was to let someone win just often enough for them to keep playing, and never to let them win big enough to tempt them to collect their winnings and go home.

I was kneeling by the empty table, spinning up my Omni-Tool and beginning a diagnostic when suddenly a gunshot sounded from the entrance. I instinctively crouched lower, scanning the room. Guns weren't allowed into the casino, lest some sore loser attempt to recoup his losses by force.

Additionally, the guards at the door generally discouraged anyone drunk or unlucky enough to get themselves thrown out from coming back for revenge. Something in the back of my mind told me that this was different, and very, very wrong. Sure enough, the black curtain parted, letting outside light stream into the purposefully-dark room. A human stood there in full armor, of good make and quality, by Omega standards.

Bit too shiny though, made him an instant target.

"Right lads!" his voice boomed, amplified by his helmet's speakers. "Let's go!"

A dozen or so other figures emerged from behind him, these armed clubs or blades. The three bouncers ul Matte hired to throw out drunks and troublesome customers went down messily, and not before laying out a few of their attackers in the process. A few Batarian regulars, friends of my master, likewise joined the fray, and met similar fates. The customers for the most part wisely opted to crouch low in their seats or under their tables: this was hardly the first raid in which most of them had been caught in the middle, and would likely not be the last.

I settled in to do the same, watching and ducking occasionally, and tried not to draw any attention to myself.

"Ashik? Ashik! Where are you, you thunderous bulk?" The leader called out, walking around the room, head swiveling in search of his target. The obese Batarian made a whimpering noise and did his best to haul his massive figure towards the back door in a slow-motion imitation of a sprint. Another human, this one also well-armored, though not as neatly dressed as the leader, clothes-lined him with a vambrace to his chin, sending his considerable form crashing down to the floor.

"P-p-Please!" my master blubbered.

"Quit your whining, kuffa," The second armored human sighed, keeping a pistol trained on him all the same. "I haven't even hurt you yet."

"W-we-we had a truce, Mr. Emrys!" Ashik said, a trace of confidence coming back into his voice when he realized he was not to be executed out of hand. He grabbed a nearby table-edge to haul himself back up to his feet, careful to keep his hands in clear view. "Your father…"

"…has altered the details of the truce," The shiny leader, evidently 'Mr. Emrys', stated. "Tell the superiors in the Consortium that the Warrens are now under the protection and management of the Arrows of Knesset."

But before my master could make a reply, four more Batarians shot to their feet at the table next to me, bringing their pistols up. I dove beneath the table entirely at that point, not wanting to be anywhere close to upright.

I watched from my spot on the ground, thought the gunfire exchange was short-lived and terribly one-sided: the two humans' armor flickered as barriers engaged, deflecting the shots effortlessly, while the unarmored Batarians were not so lucky. Not that I blamed them for trying: useful barriers and functional armor was a general rarity among the smaller gangs on this shithole. They'd probably assumed the armor to be cheap plating, if that.

"Well.. shit." Mr. Emrys was looking down at the body of Ashik ul Matte, his upper left eye now a gaping hole. Ironically, the Batarian had been a victim of his own countrymen's friendly fire, rather than the humans'.

"What?" The second Human shrugged. "We wanted to send a message. Mission fucking accomplished."

A small varren-looking man came over to the fallen Consortium members, giving an extra bullet to each of them, and collecting their weapons. He looked over to see me on the ground, and an evil grin spread across his face.

"What 'ave we 'ere?" He screeched, and a pistol swung in my direction. "Got one of 'em 'Iding 'ere, boz! He's a fekking squawker, too!"

An armored hand jerked the pistol back down.

"She's a slave," Mr. Not-So-Nice-Armor admonished, "See the collar? And she doesn't have the fringe, means she's a female… dumbass. Read a book."

He took two steps towards me, and a hand reached down, palm outstretched. "You alright?"

I stared at him for a moment. Humans weren't terribly inclined to like turians, not since the First Contact War on Shanxi, and the feeling among my own people was mutual. I nodded wordlessly in answer, still keeping a wary eye on the hand.

"You didn't get hit, did you?"

I shook my head.

"Come on, then," he said. His voice was calm and soothing. "Up you get."

Cautiously, I accepted the hand and was pulled back up onto my feet. That made No-So-Nice-Armor step back a bit, since I had a good head of height over him. I very carefully kept my hands away from my sides, though the collar around my neck should have made my helplessness clear.

"Chang!" Mr. Emrys called out, and a dark-haired Human female appeared from one of the rooms, helping one of the casino's Human slave girls to her feet.

"Lock down the casino," he stated. "Gather the slaves, and find the control rods. You may have to pull the command codes off Ashik's Omni-Tool."

"Boss," Chang nodded in reply, and set off, three or four of the… Arrows, they had called themselves, in tow.

"Khentu," Mr. Emrys continued, and Not-So-Nice-Armor turned towards him.

Ahh. That's his name.

"See if you can find the Dust and Sand stores," Mr. Emrys ordered. "Guard them with your life. I want this lot sober if the Consortium decides to strike back immediately."

'Khentu' sighed and nodded, then turned back to me. "Do you know where they keep them, H'Rekssis?"

I cocked my head in confusion at the last word, and then realized that he had tried to say the Turian word for 'darling' or 'sweetie.' Without subharmonics, however, it just sounded like a weird chirping noise. I managed to stop my mandibles from flickering, and nodded in answer to his question.

"Lead the way, then."

I moved slowly towards the back, stepping over the bodies of my Batarian former owners. In typical Omega fashion, my entire life had shifted again. If I played my cards right, maybe I could convince them that I was more valuable as a free employee.

Or then again, I could be handed to a room of drugged-up humans, to be tortured and raped to death.

Spirits, watch over me.


Author's Note: With Fanfictions' servers on the fritz, I hope everyone sees this upload correctly.

In this chapter, we see the beginning of Nasser's plans falling into place, with a mysterious benefactor aiding the Arrows' rise. Also, we met Liala Adonis, the female turian almost purchased by Cieran Kean in AR: Ronin, one-time fellow slave with Voya'Chi vas Xentha.

And so it begins. I hope you all will keep reading and reviewing! My thanks to Katkiller-V, for awesome editing and beta-reading skills!

All thoughts/reviews/suggestions/constructive criticisms are welcome! Even if it's as simple as "I liked it. Good job," i means the world to mean to hear from you all!

ROCK ON!

Tusken1602


Reviewer Responses:

BJ Hanssen - Yes, this will be canon-compliant with the main AR-verse, and is in fact, running parallel to the events and actions of Cieran Kean and Co. Theorize away, and do let me know what you come up with!

EE-RAH!