For the first six years of his life, Thane Krios had swum freely in the waters of Kahje, bound only by the breather fitted over his mouth and nose. Because of this, one of the hardest lessons he'd had to learn was how to judge the spaces he could fit his body into, and then do it. Long ago, he'd learned that if his head fit, so would the rest of him. Some spaces simply took more effort than others.
Looking down at the small, round drainage pipe with its slow dribble of water, Thane couldn't help but think that this would take quite a bit of effort indeed. He was lucky that it was low to the ground, as it would give his legs the purchase they needed to force his shoulders out of their sockets and through the hole. Putting them back in was a matter of breath, limb placement, and muscle control.
Thane grunted involuntarily as they slid back into place. And, oh yes, there was no small amount of pain to doing it this way. He lay in the metal tubing for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to recede a bit before moving on. There was no reason to rush; he would do this right.
As he breathed shallowly through the pain, even beyond the tiny entrance to where the pipe began to expand there just wasn't enough space, he punched the little button on the end of the flashlight he held in his mouth with his tongue. A small, simple device, its design originally heralded from Earth, the homeland of the humans, and Thane couldn't help but applaud its simplicity. It did what it was intended to do with no extraneous bells or whistles. Sublime.
Turning his head as much as he was able to in the cramped space, Thane prodded the end of the light with his tongue. His eyes rolled in his head to follow the yellow light as he aimed it around like a spotlight at the walls and shaft ahead. Satisfied that things were as they should be, Thane stretched his legs out, his toes catching the mesh cover for the pipe and pulling it back into place. His soft, flexible climbing boots were good for more than traversing vents.
Though the boots were good for that as well, he was moving through the tunnel at an acceptable pace under the force of nothing but his feet and calves. The vent was much too small for him to be able to bring his arms up into a useful position. His legs would certainly hurt by the time he finished the mission – he shrugged it off philosophically. In a few hours, the pain building in his legs would be irrelevant.
In short order, Thane encountered the first of three vertical shafts he would have to climb. He kept pushing until his head emerged into the pipe. He paused to appreciate the sensation of being in a larger space. Intellectually, he knew that the new pipe was only slightly bigger than the last, but with both of his eyelids closed it didn't seem so. After a brief respite, he began pushing with his toes again, curling his body upwards with powerful torso muscles until he had emerged far enough to bring his hands up and brace them on either side of the tube. He took another short rest, sitting awkwardly with his legs still inside the smaller tube while his core muscles and arms kept his top half vertical in the shaft.
Clicking the light off, Thane carefully balanced his weight on one arm and brought the other up to his mouth to claim the light before slipping it into a hidden flap on his jacket. Then he began to move.
Traveling up the smooth walls of the shaft required enormous strength, strength that he had honed into his body with years of training. He moved with three-point precision, always three of his limbs pressing into the walls while the fourth moved upwards. There was something primal about using all four limbs to travel, about knowing that he would never survive without all of his extremities moving in concert. His ancestors long ago had traveled on four limbs, and he felt himself slipping farther into battle-sleep as he connected with the most ancient and primal part of himself. Nothing else mattered but the pull of gravity, the movement of his limbs, and the woman who was his destination.
As he moved, he counted in his head. He wouldn't be able to take the aqueduct forever; it terminated inside the building four floors up at a water purification site, the first of many the complex's water would pass through before being considered safe for general consumption. He was simply fortunate that the water had not been turned on yet for this tower. It was the only way in.
Finding the spot he was looking for, Thane once again balanced himself on three points while he retrieved his flashlight. Placing it so the light was pointed down his throat, Thane gripped the end in his teeth and twisted. Feeling the silent click, he removed the flashlight from his mouth and placed it against the metal in front of him. Closing his inner eyelids, Thane held it firmly in his hand and punched the button. What emerged from the end of the 'flashlight' now was a beam of light so strong that it was truly a laser, and it bit into the metal beautifully.
He cut a fairly large hole in the pipe, being generous with the size. He would need plenty of space to perform his next maneuver. Stashing away his flashlight, Thane pushed the excised bit of metal free, listening carefully until he heard it hit the floor with a clang.
Bracketing his hands on either side of the hole as close to the edge as he could manage without running the risk of hurting himself on the sharp ridge left behind, he braced his feet on the opposite wall from his hands, feet together, knees bent. He crouched, a precarious position to hold for any length of time. Then he leapt, collapsing his arms to his chest, even as his legs pushed and propelled him through the hole before gravity took over and he ducked his head into a roll as he hit the ground. He followed it through into a crouch, eyes staring into the gloom of the abandoned maintenance bay for any unexpected items or traps. Finding none, he moved toward the oval piece of metal and fitted it back over the hole, using the flashlight to weld it into place. A few dabs of putty to smooth the metal back out, and a spritz from a substance that would match the color of the metal and… voila. Unblemished pipe. Perfection was in the details. Let them wonder how he got in.
As he finished the patch job, Thane heard voices arguing a few rooms away. Curious, he crept closer. Perhaps they were guards. If they were, their location would tell him what part of their pattern of patrol they were in. Valuable information.
Keeping to the shadows, he moved forwards, cautiously peeking around the corner. Nassana's guards, indeed – and they were harassing some of the salarian workers, yelling what were probably demands and waving their guns around threateningly. But with their full-face helmets on, their words were garbled and harsh. The salarians clearly didn't understand.
Then one of the mercs leveled off his gun and began to fire. Two of the salarians were dead before Thane managed to cross the distance between them. Even moving fast, he was still stealthy and quiet, sneaking up behind one of the mercs – a human – and snapping his neck with ease. He stripped the pistol from the dead man's hand before it had even hit the ground. Three well-placed shots later, and the salarians were safe.
When the gunfire abruptly ceased, and the bodies had hit the ground with muffled thumps, the salarians peeked their heads cautiously out of hiding. There were only two of them left. He had already retreated to a dark corner; they would not be able to see him well.
"W-who are you?" the braver of the two called.
"You should not be here," Thane responded. "It is not safe."
They shared a fearful glance. "What do you want with us?" The same one spoke again.
Thane scanned the room: there, a small security closet. They would be safe inside. He moved towards them, keeping to the shadows. They both stood up with a gasp, backing away from him in fear. Good, that would make this easier.
"You are not safe here," he said again, moving towards them. Herding them towards the closet, "you should leave." Only they couldn't leave. There were four floors full of mercs between them and safety. Their only hope was this closet.
The salarians continued to back away, fear short-circuiting their brains so that they didn't realize what had happened until he closed the door on them. Using his omni-tool, Thane jammed the protocol's lock. Hopefully it would be a few hours before they managed to undo the scramble. By then it would all be over.
Bringing his stolen pistol up, Thane began to advance through the building. It was good to be armed again, even if it was with a substandard weapon. He heard more shots ring out across the building and he sent a prayer up to Arashu to keep the workers safe. Cries and screams made him move faster, disregarding his own subtlety in the hopes of reaching them in time.
He failed.
More salarians were dead, five this time, and Thane struggled with himself as he watched the mercs saunter off. Part of him wished to gun them down, to avenge the salarians, but he could not. His skills were meant for another. He paused in his hunt to place a hand on each of the salarians, offering a brief prayer to Kalahira for the care of their souls. Then he moved on.
He easily caught up with the guards and followed them for a time. Their conversation confirmed what his intel had said: Nassana Dantius was paranoid and waiting for one of her sisters to try and assassinate her. They might not know it was he, but they knew someone was coming. Then their com exploded in chatter, and all fell silent as they listened. Three people had entered the building and were working their way up the floors, killing as they went.
A small, efficient band working its way to the top?
Nassana's sisters had arrived.
