The Tracker of Goliath

Chapter 4

Apex was meant to be the Tracker's final target on the Citadel for this year, but the Executor's offer couldn't be resisted. Trackers occasionally earned a decent paycheck, but the market place remained exclusive and highly competitive. Despite Theron's experience and reputation as the best, sometimes he would go on for months without earning a single credit.

The chance to earn two-hundred and fifty thousand from the head of C-Sec for a single job exclusive to Theron was something that no other Tracker would be offered.

His time for studying today would be delayed as he left the Executor's office to meet with an officer who had experience with Goliath's crew. No one ever saw the leader in charge, but they saw his minions everywhere, mostly synthetics. The news that Goliath may be artificial himself would tie in with that, it's much easier for a synthetic to control others rather than organics.

Theron stepped through the elevator's doors once again, finding himself in a large open space, replete with cubicles, accommodating many ranks of employees, from traffic enforcers to investigators.

The man Theron met was caught between the highs and lows, neither a commander, nor a grunt. He was a Drell and he carried himself with a distinct burden, one he's in control of, but will forever linger.

"Theron, yes?" asked the Drell in uniform, "I'm Officer Krios, the Executor let me know that you were coming. Please, take a seat."

Theron accepted the offer, noting how many materials on Krios' desk matched his dark blue and green skin; Krios retrieved three datapads from said desk and put them within reach for Theron.

"These are the cases I've been a part of that are related to Goliath," said Krios.

Theron began to scan everything in the same manner as he did with Vakarian's writings.

They all had to do with smuggling, the Geth were volunteered replacements for the Keepers but with the amount of Geth roaming the Citadel, it wasn't difficult for hard for Goliath to send his own units out there posing as labor workers while trading illegal goods.

Krios sighed. "Most of the officers here have at least one case related to this brand of smuggling, we haven't been able to pin any of them on the people involved, let alone their leader."

"Why?" asked Theron.

"Goliath is able to pay many of the poorer citizens to keep quiet, and we can't arrest them without a cause, that just gives more ammo to the news that already throws plenty of cheap shots at us. We need to have a legal reason for their arrest, yet every time we finally have a chance, Goliath's able to cover up its supplies or remove evidence from our own offices."

"How are they able to do that?"

"We have no idea. Security, red tape and suspicion among employees here has erupted since Goliath rose to power, yet it's still able to retrace all of its mistakes before we can forge a case."

Theron listened with intent as he scrolled through each of the datapads, he felt that something of value could be extracted from these, but not at a first glance. He would need to revisit them once he returned to his apartment. Setting all of datapads onto the officer's desk, he rose from the chair.

"I hope it isn't trouble but, I need to rest before I can begin retracing this thing's steps," said Theron.

Krios seemed surprised, Theron didn't mean for that to happen. Aware that he's not the best around people, the Tracker wondered if he would ever understand fellow organics.

"Are you sure?" asked Krios. "The Executor has granted you access to anything you need, including my case files."

"I understand, but I'm capable of recalling anything I need to assist in my findings."

Krios felt surprisingly embittered. Bewildered, he didn't respond when Theron quietly said "Thank you," before turning around to leave.

The officer would eventually shrug it off, he's certainly dealt with far worse in his years on the job. He didn't know how to feel about his Bosses decision to hire a Tracker, but he met Shepard, even prayed for her as his father would've wanted. Shepard meant a lot to Vakarian, her shocking murder devastated Krios. Within the week, Krios would normally be speaking to the priests as he always had since reconnecting with his Father.

Now, he didn't know if he wanted to talk to them, now, or forever.

When he prayed for Shepard with his father all those years ago, Kalahira; Goddess of Oceans and Afterlife was the listener. Maybe, if he prayed for Arashu; Goddess of Motherhood and Protection, Shepard, Alenko and their child would not have been taken to the Afterlife so soon.

Kalahira and Arashu would not hear from Krios. Amonkira; Lord of Hunters would hear one final wish from him.

Grant that Theron's hands be steady, his feet swift and his drive unmatched; should his goal not come to fruition, grant him forgiveness.

Reading is something Theron did a lot of very quickly, couple that with memory that's effectively photographic and a fast extranet connection; his apartment remained barren, there were three things he deemed as necessary. A bed for sleeping, a chair for sitting, and desk resting things on.

He's been to other people's living quarters before and was surprised by just how much stuff the average citizen has. The Reaper War certainly didn't make people any less peckish towards superficial items.

Yet, Theron couldn't help but envy the public's need for the worthless and banal. He traveled all around the galaxy, renting one apartment every two weeks; first half of the month may be spent on the beaches of Terra Nova, the next half may have him smelling burnt bodies from his flat's window on Omega.

Useless items are only given meaning under a personal context, toy ships, soccer balls and non-digitized photos didn't mean anything to Theron, he didn't have those things in all his years and he couldn't have them now.

For the past three hours, Theron spent his time flipping through page after page about Goliath. The Citadel has gone through many phases of crime operators, every five years or so, one king will stumble down their throne and be replaced by someone else, who will stumble down five years later.

Eight years ago, that's exactly what happened.

A Salarian by the name of Razor – which the media had so much fun with – was competing against The Golden Sun and The Indocta. The two were crazies, consisting of a renegade off shot of The Blue Suns Mercenaries, and people who believed The Reaper's Indoctrination was the next step in evolution.

Apex was meant to be Theron's final target on the Citadel for this year, but the Executor's offer couldn't be resisted. Trackers occasionally earned a decent paycheck, but the market place remained exclusive and highly competitive. Despite Theron's experience and reputation as the best, sometimes he would go on for months without earning a single credit.

The chance to earn two-hundred and fifty thousand from the head of C-Sec for a single exclusive job to Theron was something no other Tracker would be offered.

His time for studying today would be delayed as he left the Executor's office to meet with an officer who had experience with Goliath's crew. No one ever saw the leader in charge, but they saw his minions everywhere, mostly synthetics. The news that Goliath may be artificial himself would tie in with that, it's much easier for a synthetic to control others rather than organics.

Theron stepped through the elevator's doors once again, finding himself in a large open space, replete with cubicles, accommodating many ranks of employees, from traffic enforcers to investigators.

The man Theron met was caught between the highs and lows, neither a commander, nor a grunt. He was a Drell and he carried himself with a distinct burden, one he's in control of, but will forever linger.

"Theron, yes?" asked the Drell in uniform. "I'm Officer Krios, the Executor let me know that you were coming. Please, take a seat."

Theron accepted the offer, noting how many materials on Krios' desk matched his dark blue and green skin; Krios retrieved three datapads from said desk and put them within reach for Theron.

"These are the cases I've been a part of that are related to Goliath," said Krios.

Theron began to scan everything in the same manner as he did with Vakarian's writings.

They all had to do with smuggling, the Geth were volunteered replacements for the Keepers but with the amount of Geth roaming the Citadel, it wasn't hard for Goliath to send his own units out there posing as labor workers while trading illegal goods.

Krios sighed. "Most of the officers here have at least one case related to this brand of smuggling."

"Why?" asked Theron.

"Goliath is able to pay many of the poorer citizens to keep quiet, and we can't arrest them without a cause, that just gives more ammo to the news that already throws plenty of cheap shots at us. We need to have a legal reason for their arrest, yet every time we finally have a chance, Goliath's able to cover up its supplies or remove evidence from our own offices."

"How are they able to do that?"

"We have no idea. Security, red tape and suspicion among employees here has erupted since Goliath rose to power, yet it's still able to retrace all of its mistakes before we can forge a case."

Theron listened with intent as he scrolled through each of the datapads, he felt that something of value could be extracted from these, but not at a first glance. He would need to revisit them once he returned to his apartment. Setting all of datapads onto the officer's desk, he rose from the chair.

"I hope it isn't trouble but, I need to rest before I can begin retracing this thing's steps," said Theron.

Krios seemed surprised, Theron didn't mean for that to happen and wondered if he would ever understand fellow organics.

"Are you sure?" asked Krios. "The Executor has granted you access to anything you need, including my case files."

"I understand, but I'm capable of recalling anything I need to assist in my findings."

Krios felt surprisingly embittered. Bewildered, he didn't respond when Theron quietly said "Thank you," before turning around to leave.

The officer would eventually shrug it off, he's certainly dealt with far worse in his years on the job. He didn't know how to feel about his Boss' decision to hire a Tracker, but he met Shepard, even prayed for her as his father would've wanted. Shepard meant a lot to Vakarian, her shocking murder devastated Krios. Within the week, Krios would normally be speaking to the priests as he always had since reconnecting with his Father.

Now, he didn't know if he wanted to talk to them, now, or forever.

When he prayed for Shepard with his father all those years ago, Kalahira; Goddess of Oceans and Afterlife was the listener. Maybe, if he prayed for Arashu; Goddess of Motherhood and Protection, Shepard, Alenko and their child would not have been taken to the Afterlife so soon.

Kalahira and Arashu would not hear from Krios. Amonkira; Lord of Hunters would hear one final wish from him.

Grant that Theron's hands be steady, his feet swift and his drive unmatched; should his goal not come to fruition, grant him forgiveness.

Theron's apartment remained barren, there were three things he deemed as necessary. A bed for sleeping, a chair for sitting, and desk resting things on.

He's been to other people's living quarters before and was surprised by just how much stuff the average citizen has. The Reaper War certainly didn't make people any less peckish towards superficial items.

Yet, Theron couldn't help but envy the public's need for the worthless and banal. He traveled all around the galaxy, renting one apartment every two weeks; first half of the month may be spent on the beaches of Terra Nova, the next half may have him smelling burnt bodies from his flat's window on Omega.

Useless items are only given meaning under a personal context, toy ships, soccer balls and non-digitized photos didn't mean anything to Theron, he didn't have those things in all his years and he wouldn't have them now.

For the past three hours, Theron spent his time flipping through page after page about Goliath. The Citadel has gone through many phases of crime operators, every five years or so, one king will tumble down their throne and be replaced by someone else, who will stumble down five years later.

Eight years ago, that's exactly what happened.

A Salarian by the name of Razor – which the media had so much fun with – was competing against The Golden Sun and The Indocta. The two were crazies, consisting of a renegade off-shoot of The Blue Suns Mercenaries, and people who believed The Reaper's Indoctrination was the next step in evolution.

Razor was a sadist, but unfortunately for the Citadel's population, a highly intelligent one. Even so, his empire was brought down by the ever persistent C-Sec.

Yet, within one month, in came Goliath and he's ruled supreme ever since. No one has seen him, let alone bring him down.

Theron thought about what could happen to him if Goliath ever set eyes on him. Theron also thought about what he could do with 250,000 credits. Maybe he could take a break, buy a prop, and obtain some meaning from the meaningless.