Date Published: 2014/01/30
Date Re-Edited: N/A
Warhammer and Mass Effect, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and Bioware/EA Games respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…
So be it.
Writing Styles
"Talking Normally"
Thinking/Projecting Thoughts
=Radio Transmissions/Synthesised Voices=
+=Computer Text/Coding/Written Text=+
Warhammer Date/Time Keeping
+=[Mark: +/- The Time since or before the Mission Started]=+
+=[Seconds:Minutes:Hours]=+
+=[Days (1 to 365):Years(1 to 999):Millennium (M3=2000/M31=30000)]=+
Chapter 8
- Turian Disgruntled. Krogan Bored. Quarian Interrupted. -
Part 1
+=Citadel Press Core=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Presidium Tower=+
+=Council Chambers=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[23.14.14]=+
+=[mark: +23.14.27]=+
Introspection.
Investigation.
Interdiction.
Wow… like wow… I have never… seen or heard… like wow…
Her Editor was equally incoherent and speechless; she knew that she was still on the audio-feed, because she could hear the sound of her breathing over the Ear-Piece. Her body was on auto-pilot, her brain refused to compute the events of the last couple minutes… what happened down there on the Chamber Floor… was mind blowing. And inevitably her eyes were drawn to the vivid – blood – red that stained the pristine white floor beneath the Petitioners Podium.
"Why did he do that…?" she mumbled out loud to the Universe in general.
Unbeknownst to the very befuddled Reporter, her mike and more importantly her Hover-Cam were still on… and recording… so it came as quite a surprise when the Universe seemingly answered back…
=I've seen something… like this… before in the Archives= declared the melodic voice of her Asari Editor in her ear… her voice was just as breathless and stunned as the small human standing on the Press Balcony in the Council Chambers.
Wracking her brain… trawling through her thoughts… thinking back on all her Studies in Sociology and Journalism – that spanned nearly two thousand years of Reporting and History in Citadel Space… she just couldn't connect the dots…
And like a marionette… she raised her hand shakily to her ear, and asked hesitantly, "I don't understand… Sari… what are –"
=I'm talking about the last Peace Talks on Palaven… shortly before the start of the Unification Wars= explained the voice of the now named Sari, =I've got the footage here… somewhere… doesn't matter. I think that the Krogan Clans on Tuchanka, did… or maybe they still do… something shockingly similar… Let me see… Yes they do… They haven't got a name for it but… it something they do when declaring a Blood Feud or a Death Oath… I didn't know that humans –=
"We didn't… we don't… I… that," the flustered reporter spluttered, "we haven't done… things… like that in… like in thousands of years…"
=Do you think that this… will lead to War with the Hierarchy?= asked her Editor persistently.
"I don't know… I just… half an hour ago we thought he was a Robot… now? I don't know, we just don't have enough facts… and I have no idea how I'm gonna get any form of corroboration whatsoever…"
=That doesn't matter… the public will be clamouring for the 'Scoop' on this… What kind of mother names her child Sigmund anyway?=
The human reporter chuckled at her Editors poor attempt at a joke… but she let the Asari draw her back into her comfort zone… Story Telling.
"It's the name of the father of a human hero in ancient Norse-Mythology… do an Extra-Net search, use the keywords: 'Ring of the Niebelungs' and the 'Völsunga Saga'."
=Oh… is that the one with all the Elves and stuff… by that guy with all the letters for before his name?= asked her Editor jokingly.
"Noooo… that's Tolkien, he wrote his stories much, much, later… the 'Völsunga Saga' is over a thousand years old… I think… Sigmund was a great King… and his son was said to have slain a Dragon!"
=Dragon… dragon? Why does that name sound familiar…=
"Think giant fire breathing lizard, Chief."
=Big whoop… we need an angle… a new source… something…= there was a pause and then some clacking – probably some data-pads – could be heard over the line, =I got it… do you still have that Info. on Fist?=
"Yeah… not much we can do with it though," admitted the Human reporter despondently, wondering what exactly the chief was getting at.
=It should give you a way in… talk to Shepard, get her to help you with Fist… Be vague… talk about corruption in general. No name. Just talk, and then talk some more. Leverage them for as much gossip as you can get. Oh… and Emily?=
"Yeah Chief?"
=Watch your cute little ass out there…=
"Uhm Chief… I don't think that, that is how that phrase does…," Emily muttered.
=You keep thinking that sweet-cheeks… keep in contact…=
"Bye Chief…," as Emily Wong signed-off, the earlier embarrassment almost completely gone, as her mind was already spinning at a mile a minute…
She had a quite the quandary… just how was she gonna get an interview with the 'Commander Shepard' and her scary new 'Friend'?
Things just got interesting…
Across the Citadel; every man, woman, and child was talking. It was truly amazing; the discussion crossed racial lines and included individuals from all the known Species throughout Citadel Space. And what exactly was the Talk of the Town? The scary big human in the strange blue armour with the scary-weird – or maybe fascinating weird – Biotic powers… It all depended on who you talked to. It was therefore quite amusing then, that the quietest place on this bustling and loud Citadel, was a trio of Offices right at the very heart of the Council Spire.
The occupants of these Offices, they were as different as night and day. Each had a purpose… a History… a Story… They all knew that they worked better together, than apart, and they all knew that they would never survive on their own. If one of them were to do away with either of the other two… the entirety of Galactic Civilisation would collapse. Eventually… it could be in a handful of hours… it could take a Century. But nearly two thousand years of History showed that unity – not division – was the key to their continued success.
Each Councillor represented a fundamental branch of the Citadel Government… They were the Trinity… the Soldier… the Diplomat… and the Spy…
And it was in the Spartan office of the Soldier that the tenuous silence, a tenuous silence that stretched taught across the highest offices of inter-galactic government, was broken first.
=I want sanctions against the Alliance…Now! Spartacus!= screamed the flanging voice of a very… very angry Turian.
His voice distorted as it boomed across the nearly empty office from his raised position on a silvery Holographic stand at the very centre of the Spartan office.
"Primarch, please be reasonable," replied Councillor Spartacus pleading, almost begging the man – err Turian… as he tried desperately to placate the incensed leader of the Turian Hierarchy, "There's no way to know –"
=I've seen the pictures of that – that… Thing… the Alliance is building Super-Soldiers, Councillor. It's a clear violation of the Citadels Councils Conventions against Genetic Engineering= retorted the Primarch's Hologram angrily, not losing any of his venom, but at least some – not much, but some – of his roiling anger.
"Need I remind you Primarch, that we cannot be seen to act unilaterally in this matter… You've seen the pictures… but have you heard the reports? The humans are claiming that he saved hundreds single-handedly… We can't be seen acting against this new… 'Development'… out of fear… or panic."
=Then what do you suggest we do Councillor= the Primarch's tone was dry, and devoid of emotion…
There was a time for anger… and there was a time for solutions… now was one of those times.
"We place request for further information from the Alliance," replied Spartacus evenly, and… anti-climatically.
=Even if they responded to our request… how would we even know if the Intel they give us is accurate=
Spartacus couldn't help it… but his facial-flanges spread wide – with the Turian equivalent of a smile… a very evil looking smile.
"The humans have a saying that the Salarians are particularly fond of… 'Trust but Verify'," Spartacus replied smugly, "we ask for Intel… with one Talon… and while they're not looking we rifle through their Secrets with the other."
=And we use whatever we find to verify, what the Humans and Salarians give us= replied the Primarch smugly with satisfaction =you know Spartacus… sometimes I think that you were raised by Salarians…=
With that the Primarch cut the connection with a Chuckle…
Leaving a smug looking Spartacus to his own thoughts…
Things just got interesting…
In the stylish and well-lived-in office of the most senior diplomat in Citadel Space, there was a conference call about to begin between the most powerful Matriarchs in the Galaxy. And unfortunately for Tevos, she was expected to mediate… perhaps placate is the better word… all the clashing – dominant – personalities of these very powerful Matriarchs.
Thankfully they didn't meet in person, thought an optimistically hopeful Tevos, they're less likely to come to blows this way…
It was almost funny, Tevos thought further in introspection, most Aliens thought that we Asari are merely simple peaceful negotiators and nothing more… We aren't, we never were, we probably never will be… we just as violent… just as greedy… just as vain… just as cruel… just like everybody else… we just that bit better at hiding it.
The various holographic podiums sprung to life around Tevos…
Showtime…
"I thank you all, for taking the time –"
=With all due respect Tevos… I think we can do away with all these meaningless pleasantries…= interrupted a Matriarch, wearing long flowing white robes, tersely =Now I hate to be the lone Salarian in the room, but… What do we know?=
=Right now… nothing. Less than nothing, and with the STG claiming ignorance. I'm starting to think that they know even less than us= this assessment from Matriarch Lidanya, one of the highest Ranking Officers in the Asari Military, as well as the Captain of the Destiny Ascension, Flagship of the Citadel Fleet.
=That is not necessarily true Lidanya= this careful rebuttal from a rather unassuming Matriarch in a floor-length dress =This is not the first time we have… been involved in… such a… delicate situation=
=With all due respect Sha'ira… but if you're referring to the Krogan… then we can all agree that, that was an abysmal failure and – =
=I was not referring to the Krogan, Irissa… in fact I was referring to my own – personal – encounter with the good Sergeants… Creator…=
=If you were personally aware of the development or creation of a human Super-Soldier Program… then why did you not inform the rest of the Matriarchy?= demanded a flustered and angry looking Asari – perhaps the youngest present – wearing a very heavy set of blue and white plated armour.
=The reason is simple – Spectre Vasir… when my compatriots and I met Sergeant Sigmunds 'Creator'… it was long before I even joined this August Body= replied Sha'ira with a most diplomatic of responses.
"But that makes no sense," stated Tevos in confusion, "I have been the Asari Councillor for over a century now… and you had already been leading our people long before that. Humans have been in Citadel Space for no more than three decades. How could you have possibly encountered… this… individual?"
=The Tale of my encounter with Sergeants Sigmunds… Creator… and the Progenitors that preceded him is… a tale that perhaps I should tell you in person… but…= her Hologram looked down hesitantly at the reflective metal Cylinder she held in her left-hand.
Sha'ira fell silent as she contemplated the Tube…
Her curiosity peaked, Tevos asked, "Just what is that in your hand… Matriarch?"
=It is a gift… He… gave it to me… He said that whenever I was in doubt… whenever I was uncertain… that I should open it… I have only opened it twice before, and each time the message was… different…= she shifted the cylinder in her hands, as she moved to open it =It has never led me a stray before…=
With a swift tug, she pulled the tube – no Scroll – apart. And frowned at what it said, after several moments she lowered the Scroll… Staring blankly, without focus, off into the distance…
"What does it say…"
=Hmmm… Oh it's just a Quote… one of His I think… It's hard to tell… there's no date. What it says is…=
+=They shall be my finest warriors, these men that give themselves to me=+
+=Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war forge them=+
+=They will be of iron will and steely muscle=+
+=In great armour shall I clad them and the mightiest guns will they be armed=+
+=They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them=+
+=They will have tactics, strategies and machines so that no foe can best them in battle=+
+=They are my bulwark against Terror=+
+=They are the Defenders of Humanity=+
+=They are my Space Marines and they shall know no fear=+
=… on the 'Creation of the Space Marines= finished Sha'ira reservedly.
"What does this have to do with the –"
=Sergeant Sigmund is a Space Marine= clarified the Consort =he was taken as a child… and made… forged… into what we saw in the Council Chambers=
=For what… kind of insane purpose… would someone create such warriors= mumbled a shocked Irissa, confusion clearly discolouring the features of her – Holographic – face.
=What could possess a sentient being to… even contemplate… doing such a thing= this from Matriarch Lidanya.
=Matriarchs please…= called Sha'ira – almost yelling – as she raised her voice 'slightly' to be heard over the muttering of the apprehensive Asari surrounding her =the question is not why someone would create such Super-Soldiers… The real question is what possible existential threat… could necessitate the creation of nearly twenty Legions of them…=
=Legion? I am not familiar with the Term= this comment from the Matriarch in the flowing white robes.
"If I may Matriarchs," this interruption came from an Asari standing a few steps behind Tevos, she was an Assistant of the Councillor, whom had asked her to sit in on the meeting, "I have studied Human history, and… 'A Legion' is a type of human military from antiquity. It is comprised of approximately five-thousand-four-hundred soldiers. There are several sub-units within a Legion; such as a Maniple or a Cohort. However paradoxically one of the smallest units is called a Century, which in 'English' means 'One Hundred Years' and therefore against common logic consists of eighty soldiers… instead of… say… a hundred…Which is –"
"Thank you Asami," interjected Tevos diplomatically, interrupting her assistants slightly off-topic rambling, "So… from this information… we can extrapolate the numbers of these 'Space Marines' at around –"
=I am afraid Councillor that your… assumption… is unfortunately… inaccurate= interrupted Sha'ira apologetically, chossing her next words with utmost care = according to what I could gather from… an anonymous source… Each of these Legions is unique… no two Legions are the same and their size and disposition may vary from Legion to Legion… You see; each Legion is led by a single Primarch. They are responsible for the deployment and recruitment of their own Legions, and let us not forget that no two individuals, no two beings are identical. Therefore… it depends as much on circumstance as much as ability… There are Legions that have an inadequate pool of recruits… others that have suffered significant combat loses. While others flourish in the face of adversity. From what I could gather from my brief conversation with my source… The smallest of the Legions contained approximately ten-thousand 'Battle-Brothers'… which is a Space Marine that has all his implants fully realised… While Sigmund's Legion – the thirteenth – is the largest… at almost two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand 'Battle-Brothers'… and enough 'Initiates' or 'Scout Marines' ready to replace the loss of entire Companies if needed…=
Silence met the end of Sha'ira's… lecture… as none of the Matriarchs in the – metaphorical – room, wished to be the one to voice the next – blatantly – obvious, but very difficult question.
"What do we do now?" asked Asami… the Councillors Assistant.
Thank the Goddess for oblivious Maidens, thought Tevos, grateful for her Assistants – relatively – poor people skills.
"I don't know," admitted Tevos candidly, "wait… Matriarch Sha'ira… you mentioned some 'Compatriots' earlier. Who else was with you… when you met this 'Creator'?"
=Why that would be Matriarchs Aethyta, and… Benezia…=
Contrary to the rather 'Boisterous' meetings that his two Colleagues were having. Councillor Valern was busy conducting a debriefing in a very… Salarian way. Though perhaps debriefing may have been the wrong term for it. Unlike the other Councillors, Valern was not compelled to debrief his 'Superiors', so there he sat compiling the data he had collected himself… by hand. Valern was not beholden upon the Dalatrassi that had appointed him, in fact Salarian Culture encouraged Independence almost as much as Operational Secrecy… it was not uncommon for two Salarians 'in-the-know' to trade Information to improve their own positions… and unlike the rest of the Galaxy… Salarians did not feel the need to Consult or Discuss the problems besetting their Society. They expected their leaders to make Unanimous Decisions… whereby one well-informed-individual solved any and all crisis before they became an issue… Though that Independence – at times – could just as easily be discarded by the individual… should the needs of the many out way the needs of the few…
Thinking back to the reports he had read on Humanity… Valern chuckled slightly… the reaction of the Alliances diplomats when they first met the Dalatrass of the Salarian Union had been… priceless. They had called her several unflattering names… from despotic to imperialistic to… nepotistic… as well as several colourful others. Though… perhaps the funniest had been when a Member of the United Northern American States, Senate, when he had called the Dalatrass… 'Undemocratic'… which was obviously meant as an insult… However the Dalatrass didn't consider it an insult, she considered it a challenge, so she urged the Alliance Representatives to accept an invitation to a… invitation had confused the Alliance Politicians considerably… therefore – according to the records – the Salarian Councillor (at the time) had tried to… 'Debrief' them.
The Councillor had tried to explain to them that, through considerable research and development the Salarian Union had… 'Created' their current form of Government… and after a significant amount of 'Product Testing'… they had then implemented the most effective form of Government that they had researched…
He had shown them the case studies, which various Salarian Political Sociologists had compiled over the Centuries, on a multitude of different Governments within Citadel Space. From the caste system of the Batarian Hegemony, to the meritocratic system of the Turian Hierarchy. They had studied the subtle intricacies of individuals within the Krogan Clan system… to the flourishing and vibrant E-Democracy within Asari Space. They had then determined the various failings and successes of each system; from the lack of flexibility and operational-freedom within the Turian military… to the relatively unpredictable nature of Asari public opinion.
Thus they had then explained the advantages of their system; which relied upon well known – and confirmed – facts… rather than the easily manipulated and illogical realm of public opinion. They then extolled the virtues of a well-informed centralised Government, as well as explaining that such a government was then counter-balanced by a tendency toward lateral thinking which permeated their entire Society. They had also explained that most Salarian preferred proactive solutions, which… 'Nipped the Problem in the Bud'… as the Humans would say.
This also explained the Salarian Unions tendency toward Espionage; the more you knew… the more informed the decisions you could make in the future. This 'Tendency toward Unanimity' even explained how some Salarian Commanders could make 'Command Decisions' that to the average layman appeared heinous… and yet were perfectly justifiable under Salarian Law.
And on that note…
Valern turned his – ever attentive – attention back to the – intentionally – vague reports sitting guiltily upon his desk. Several powerful Dalatrassi from within the Union were 'requesting' further information… particularly the Dalatrass in charge of the Special Tasks Group who was bemoaning her Operatives distinct lack of hard data concerning this 'Sergeant Sigmund'… before approximately twenty-seven hours ago.
Which raised several pressing questions for the Councillor; when did the Humans begin improving their Secrecy Programs – there had been no discussions within the Alliance Parliament or Admiralty to improve their secrecy – when did their Operational Security become so impenetrable – the STG pretty much knew of nearly every operation or research project the Humans were currently running – why where the STG able to gather Intel after the fact… why did they allow this Secret to be exposed now?
Thus unable to draw any meaningful conclusions from the data in front of him; Councillor Valern took action… he rejected all the requests for further Information, and instructed the Dalatrass of the STG to intensify all her data-mining Operations against the Alliance. With satisfaction in a job well done – relatively speaking – Valern leaned back casually in his ergonomic office-chair and decided to spend an hour or so indulging in his personal Hobby… with a flick of the wrist he activated his Omni-Tool and began a – therapeutic – Extra-Net search or two across several well-known auction-houses for… his League of One Medallion Collection…
+=SSV Normandy Ground Team=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Presidium Tower=+
+=Citadel Council Gardens=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[23.14.14]=+
+=[mark: +23.14.27]=+
Wow… like wow… I have never… seen or heard of… like wow…
That was… I don't know what that was… no-one has ever talked to the Council like that… well maybe the Krogan did… before the Rebellions, but… Damn… he huffed and puffed… and he challenged them at the Heart of their Citadel… at the very top of their Ivory Tower… and he all but gave them the finger…
But I do know one thing…
"That… was Awesome!"
Shepard just chuckle at her 'over-enthusiasm', "I know it's hard Ash… but could you at least try and contain your enthusiasm… in public at least."
"Aww… come on Commander. I've never heard of anyone talking to the Council like that – let alone seen it," whined Ashley in mock petulance, "no-body – 'cept maybe the Krogan – but I don't think they've let a Krogan into the Council Chambers since the Rebellions. It was sooo exciting! He all but flipped them the Bird!"
"Well I hope 'he' doesn't make a habit of it… right Sergeant," this semi-serious dressing down was directed – predictably – at the Sergeant, as Shepard led the Team down the stairs into the twilight of the Gardens.
"My apologies Commander… unfortunately my helm appears to have suffered a momentary catastrophic failure of all its auditory sensors," was the Sergeants droll – if not emotionless – reply.
Unfortunately for Shepard she had developed a rather unfortunate verbal reflex… which only seemed to surface whenever someone started using political spin or techno-jargon and that reflex was…
"Huh?"
Kaiden took pity on her, while the rest of the Squad – who were giggling their arses off – didn't… and explained that, "in layman's terms… what I think he is trying to say is… 'That his ears just stopped working'."
Of course the explanation didn't really help… all that did happen was make the Big-Bad N7 Marine turned a wee-bit pink… and her ears tried their hardest to blend in with her hair… the Squad? Well the just laughed that lit bit harder at her embarrassment. It was several moments later and no-one had yet taken any pity on Shepard. However before anyone could speak up on her behalf… someone tried to get her attention…
"Excuse me… Uhm- Commander Shepard?"
They all turned to find a very short woman wearing an Asari-style – blue and red floor-length – dress, approaching the Squad… and when she was less than two meters away she introduced herself as…
"Emily Wong… Citadel News Network, do you have a moment Commander?" the now identified Ms. Wong asked ever so politely.
We don't have time for –
"Sure… you guys go on ahead… find Anderson. He's probably devised our next move already," Shepard ordered them off casually, her attention already focused on the Reporter.
"Aye Commander," the group chorused together, as they continued as a group down the steps into the Council Gardens.
Ashley followed the flock mechanically, lost in her thoughts, still trying her hardest to figure out the inexplicable enigma that was 'the Shepard'. She was nothing like the Stories passed around the Mess Hall. The articles about her were probably pure fiction. And the reports? Well they were lacking in the very least… The real Shepard; she couldn't be explained away in a few pretty words… No she was a complete and utter enigma…
Ashley was drawn from her ever confusing thoughts by perhaps the strangest question she had ever heard while sober…
"Is it customary to pelt ones opponent with poultry, before declaring a duel, Chief?"
This… question… was… strangely from… Sergeant Sigmund?
Ashley's response was succinct and to the point…
"Err – sorry… I… don't understand?" she spluttered in confusion.
"Is it customary to – and I quote – 'flip the bird' at ones opponent?" he tried to clarify, seemingly oblivious to Ashley's mounting horror…
She spun toward Kaiden… pleading… begging him with her eyes to help her explain this in the least embarrassing way possible. All he gave her was a small sardonic smile that pretty much said, 'you're on your own Chief'… Thus turning back to face the inevitable doom of her self-esteem… and of course the imposing façade that is Sergeant Sigmund… What followed was the most embarrassing five minutes of her entire life.
Of course nothing was ever easy… what started as a simple attempt to explain the context behind her – slightly vulgar – slang… ended up requiring her to not only extrapolate upon variety of Pop-Culture references that she had casually made before… but also required her to eventually pull out her Omni-Tool as she was forced to look-up the definition for the word 'Slang'… And not surprisingly her patients eventually ran out –
"Don't they have slang where you come from Sarge?"
"No… it's inefficient," he replied tersely.
"Really…," she replied sarcastically, "next you're gonna tell me that your lot don't swear at each other because it's 'counter-productive'…"
"No… we don't, because any insult – unintentional or otherwise – directed at a fellow Marine, would be considered as insulting his entire Unit. And if the Marines in question are from separate Legions… well… that could get messy…," he finished ominously.
"Like what?" she asked inquisitively.
"Well, perhaps the best example would be the bad… blood… between the First and Sixth Legions… Which all started over some 'perceived' insult towards the Honour of one Primarch, because of the 'actions' of another Primarch," he explained verbosely and above all vaguely… he was obviously skipping a few of the details in favour of making a point.
Ashley didn't really care if he was being vague or not. It didn't bother her that much anyway… she was at least getting some answers… And that led her to her next pressing… problem…
What now?
What do I ask him first?
Who are you?
Where are you from?
How many 'Space Marines' are there?
Would I still get an answer?
Start simple… build up some trust…
"So those Silver Dots above your eye… those 'Service Studs'… there not really like Service Ribbons are they? My Grandfather had Service Ribbons… one for each year he served… So… how do ya keep 'em there?" she asked meekly, as she decided to go with the most innocent of the questions, first.
"They were implanted…"
"Whoa… how?"
"Simple… a steady hand, and the butt of a Bolter," he replied casually.
That's… he can't be…
"Seriously… you've been doing this for more than a Century… and to celebrate you whack a couple nails into your Skull?" she quipped, obviously questioning his sanity.
"No –"
"Haha… very funny, then –"
"In your words I've 'been doing this' for a hundred-and-seventy years," clarified Sigmund, probably a bit more harshly than he intended, "and each one of these Studs was earned… each and every one of them."
Smooth move Ashley… you just made him angry…
Unfortunately for Ashley, she was still struggling to come to terms with… everything he had said… and her mouth was running on Auto-Pilot… so she was unable to censor her next… poorly chosen words…
"So you're a hundred and seventy years old, huh?"
For an uncomfortable moment… Sigmund was silent… and Ashley was starting to worry that maybe… just maybe… she had push him just a little bit too far… and he was just going to ignore her until they reached –
"It's hard… to explain… it because of the Cerebral Implants… my life before joining the Legion is… indistinct… cloudy," the confident man from before was gone – this new Sigmund was… hesitant… his speech halting and uncertain – he kept trying to explain why but, "it's true… I've been a Battle-Brother for the last one hundred and sixty odd years, but… I was an Initiate… or Scout Marine for sixteen years before that… and well… I think I was fourteen when I underwent the Trials… to become an Initiate…"
Ashley was speechless… and for reasons that were so far beyond her… angry. No… she wasn't angry with the Sergeant… no not him… Her mind was drawing… connections… dredging quietly through everything he had just said… It was then she came to a… horrifying… enraging… conclusion…
"Is it standard practise – of these 'Legions' – to 'recruit' Children?" she asked, her voice very quietly… her tone polite… on the surface at least. Bellow that however… she was seething with barely suppressed rage.
For the first time since their cordial conversation had started, Sigmund's helm turned slowly to face her… and for an eternity… he studied her. It was strange, she couldn't see his face… but she could feel… his eyes… looking through her… and it felt like… it felt like… he was testing her for something… and it felt like he had found –
"Your anger is misplaced Chief," he admonished her sadly, "there are things you do not know… there are things you cannot understand…"
Her hastily thrown together façade began to crack… and she lashed out angrily at the nearest individual… Sigmund –
"What I do know… is… its wrong and there is no justification for –"
"That's enough… Chief…"
At those simple words, Ashley's anger just fizz-idled… and died… Her red-hot anger quenched, like a red-hot pocker in a bucket of water. She had been so wrapped up in her not-so-polite 'discussion' with the Sergeant… that she failed to notice Anderson and the fact that he had been standing in front of him for about a minute.
Saluting the Captain, she moved to apologise – verbally – to her Commanding Officer, "Sorry Sir… it won't happen again…"
"See that it doesn't Chief… come-on… we need to plan our next move," he informed them all as he led the Group of Alliance Personnel – which she belatedly realised was most of the Normandy Ground Team – off to the side… under one of the over-hanging balconies.
The Squad walked on engulfed in comradely silence for a few more seconds – it wouldn't last – as the rounded a support pillar. The hard-fought for silence was shattered… rudely… by the Ambassador and his childish petulance.
"It was a mistake… bringing you into that Hearing Captain. You and Saren have far too much History. And because of that the Council began to question our Motives."
"I know Saren… This is exactly what he wants," Anderson yelled right back, his temper beginning to fray, "he's working with the Geth for a single reason. To exterminate the entire Human Race. Every Colony we have is at risk. Every world we control is in danger. Not even Earth is Safe!"
Udina seemed oblivious to the drop of temperature under the over-hang, as he moved to continue to 'Lecture' Anderson, "Calm down Captain… if you can't control your emotions, I'll remove you from this entire investigation. Throwing a temper tantrum is not goin' to overturn the Council's decision."
Oh the irony, thought Ashley sardonically, what… A… Ass!
Diplomacy wasn't entirely dead however, as Kaiden – trying to get this discussion back into more profitable territory – asked the inevitable, "What do we do now?"
"As a Spectre… Saren's virtually untouchable," this said – surprisingly – by Shepard, whom no-one had heard approach, "we need to find something… some way to expose him… Publically!"
"How about we talk to that C-Sec Detective we met earlier… Garrus," Kaiden volunteered trying to be helpful, "he seemed so close to finding… something on Saren. Anything is better than what we have now."
"But how? We tried to talk to Executor Pallin… and he wouldn't give us the time of day," Shepard stated tersely, "I doubt he'll put us in contact with one of his Detectives…"
"I have a man on the inside," announced Udina pompously, "talk to Harkin, he'll tell you what you need to know…"
"Harkin's a bum," spat – surprisingly – Anderson with clear venom, "he's been suspended for various counts of misconduct. He's a disgrace… I suggest that you speak with a Volus down on the Presidium Concourse… he goes by the name; Barla Von."
"Aliens can't be trusted Captain," sneered Udina derisively, "this is a Human problem… Shepard you'll be able to find Harkin in a bar somewhere in the Tayseri Ward."
"Harkin's untrustworthy, any evidence you would get from him would be tainted. Barla Von is an Agent of the Shadow Broker; if anyone in Citadel Space has any evidence of Saren's duplicity… it's him."
"Anderson! We don't have the time to run down all your frivolous leads," spat Udina petulantly, "go find Harkin, he –"
"Divide and Conquer," declared Sigmund knowingly, smoothly defusing the situation, "Shepard and I will go after Harkin… we already have practical knowledge of that particular Ward and its layout. Ashley and Kaiden can run-down this… 'Shadow Broker' lead. We can reconvene when we secure more Data."
"I agree… you'll find Barla Von in the Financial District… less than a hundred feet from the Presidium Tower Elevator," declared Anderson wisely.
Udina did not seem very happy with this Development, but he couldn't complain because not only Anderson's, but Sigmund's, Logic was quite sound. However he couldn't be seen to be weak. So he snapped angrily to face Anderson, his eyes were flicking suspiciously between Anderson and Sigmund, before he declared wearily…
"Very well. I need to take care of some… important business. Captain… meet me in my Office later," he muttered curtly, "there is… something we need to discuss."
Udina spun round and stomped off toward the Elevator… and Anderson… just watched him go – saying nothing, the verbal altercation with Udina already forgotten, he turned back to face the Ground Team, and just shook his head wearily.
"He's just upset that no-one thought to Brief him on the Alliance and their new 'Super-Soldier' Program," declared Anderson with a chuckle, however the broad smile plastered across his face didn't seem to quite reach his eyes.
Before anyone on the Ground Team could raise even a single question, about the giant blue elephant in the room, he raised a hand – thus forestalling their barrage of questions – and stated plainly that, "I'm writing a Report… explaining nearly everything. I'll forward the report to all of you… After… I've sent it to Alliance Command at Arcturus. Now get on with it Team!"
He turned away from them and headed towards an Alliance Officer standing in front of a Long-Range Communication Terminal, off to the side of the Council Chambers. No words need be said as the Team moved quietly toward the Elevator. Everyone on the Ground Team had their game-faces on… their faces were lined and etched not only with tension… and determination.
With a palpable sense of emotion in the air, Kaiden – spontaneously – decided to try and lighten the mood in the Elevator…
"Anyone know a good joke?"
Like a trio of marionettes; two incredulous looks and a helmet swivelled to stare at him… their collective glare just screaming… 'Are you bloody serious?!"
After several seconds of silence, the entire party in the elevator – well most of them anyway – were quite surprised to hear a synthetic baritone reply, "Perhaps I do…"
At this point most of the Alliance – whom admittedly were suffering from quite a bit of whiplash at this point – snapped their heads round to stare incredulously at the usually stoic – and above all – and so far quite silent giant.
If Sigmund noticed their astonishment, he sure as hell didn't show it, because he just bulldozed ahead with his display of Comedic Talent, "How many Space Marines does it take to change a Lumin Strip?"
"What's a Lumin Strip?" asked the ever inquisitive Ashley.
"It's a device that emits light," replied Sigmund smoothly, not missing a beat, "So… how many?"
After mercifully short – and uncomfortable – silence, Shepard relented and asked, "I'll bite… how many?"
Sigmund just swelled with smugness as he declared, "Three! One to locate the objective. One to summon a Techmarine. And one last Marine to call in an Orbital Bombardment once the objective has been completed."
Silence reigned within the small enclose space, of the elevator compartment, until the elevator slid to a stop and the doors hissed open. It was at this point that Ashley asked the inevitable, "Wait… did you just tell a Light-Bulb Joke Sarge?"
And like a dam breaking; all the strain, all the tension – everything that had been building up since the Fall of Eden Prime – every emotion… just flowed away. As the halls, arcades and the wide variety of concourses across the Presidium were filled with laughter from the throats of the Ground Team, as they split up to find their targets. And so the hunt for a Mass Murder began in earnest.
+=Kaiden & Ashley=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Presidium Financial District=+
+=Barla's Banking=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[38.19.14]=+
+=[mark: +38.19.27]=+
"Remind me again, Why… we are visiting a Bank and not… say; Pub-Crawling… right about now," Ashley asked sarcastically, as she stood in front of Barla's Banking glaring up at the Neon Sign above the Entrance to the unassuming little Office.
"Easy Chief… we volunteered to do some super-secret spy-type-stuff – and apparently – it turns out that all we have to do is talk to a Banker," Kaiden replied ever so drolly.
"My dad always told me; never trust anyone whose name rhymes with Wanker," was Ashley's sardonic response.
Kaiden snorted at that, but didn't miss a beat as he led the pair resolutely into the Volus Bankers Office. Ashley quietly brought up the rear, as she took up an over-watch position behind Kaiden. This – unassuming – Den of Iniquity and Sin had many… many hidden dangers. Spawned to drain the unsuspecting of every last Credit they owned; from the dangerous 'Affordable Loans', to the quite often misrepresented Mortgage-Backed Space-Ship Loans, to the most Vile of vampyric creature to slither between the shiny name plates of the most hated of Financial Gargoyles… the Insurance Salesman. And as an Alliance Marine Ashley was taught how to deal with such creatures… in fact she had only one default position when confronting such creatures of Adversity… Kill it and if you couldn't kill… Blow it up!
It was therefore highly anticlimactic, when they discovered the only occupant in the room was a rather short, squat and round Volus in a dull-brown Exo-Suit with scuffed White-Plating.
"Welcome Earth-Clan," came the raspy and depressing – never forget depressing – voice of the Asthmatic Volus behind the only desk in the Office, "*[Shick]* Welcome to Barla's Banking *[Shick]* how may I help you *[Shick]*?"
"Yes… we heard you could put us in contact with the Shadow Broker," Kaiden stated as clearly and as succinctly as possible, he wasn't going to dance around the issue… he was just going to go straight for the Jugular.
Just like Shepard.
"Ahh… yes, the worst kept *[Shick]* secret in the Citadel *[Shick]*," was his morose sounding – at least it sounded morose – response from the short Alien, "you are quite mistaken *[Shick]* You do not contact the Broker *[Shick]* You put in a request *[Shick]* and if he is interested *[Shick]* he will communicate with you through a Third-Party *[Shick]* Like me…"
Her curiosity peaked, at not so easy feat of late, Ashley impishly asked, "So… just who is the Shadow Broker?"
"I don't know *[Shick]* No-one does," was the congested sounding reply of the Volus Banker.
Seeing that this line of questioning was getting them nowhere, Kaiden tried to get the conversation back on track by asking, "Well… do you have any Intel on Saren?"
Barla Von chuckled at that… question, "Be grateful Earth-Clan *[Shick]* the information I'm about to give you would normally cost a small fortune *[Shick]* but I… am going to give it to you for free*[Shick]*."
"Why… what do you get out of this?" asked Kaiden suspiciously.
"Saren betrayed the Shadow Broker *[Shick]* not a wise move if *[Shick]* you valued your continued good health *[Shick]*," replied the small – in stature – Alien ominously, "he also paid off another Agent of the Shadow Broker *[Shick]* not a wise move *[Shick]*."
"Care to elaborate?" Kaiden asked politely.
"The man he paid off was a Human… named Fist *[Shick]* he owns a Club called Chora's Den *[Shick]*. The arrangement was simple… he retrieves the Information *[Shick]* and the Broker would pay him handsomely *[Shick]*."
"Let me guess… Saren paid him more, and now he has the Intel," Ashley quipped sarcastically.
"And that's where you'd be wrong, Earth-Clan *[Shick]*," replied the nasally sounding Alien, as he rasped through his respirator, "Saren didn't pay him to retrieve the Information *[Shick]* he paid to have it buried *[Shick]*."
"So… just what kind of… Information did he want buried?" Kaiden asked the Volus pointedly.
"I don't know Earth-Clan *[Shick]* I don't have access to that kind of Information…"
"Then I can see why you're giving this Intel away… it's worthless," Ashley muttered rudely.
The Volus, seemingly ignoring Ashley's quip, continued undeterred, "the Broker doesn't tolerate double dealing *[Shick]* he has retaliated by hiring a Krogan Mercenary… *[Shick]* to provide a more… permanent solution *[Shick]*. I have been instructed to put you in contact with him *[Shick]*."
"Why… does he want us to do his dirty work for him?" this – yet again – delivered by the brash female Marine.
Barla Von turned to glare – it was hard to tell with the face-mask – at Ashley and for the first time the Volus answered her directly, "No… the Krogan has been briefed, more… broadly than I have *[Shick]* he has a… lead on the Intel Source *[Shick]*. He will explain further… *[Shick]*."
"What does the Broker get out of giving us… this… Intel for free?" Kaiden asked suspiciously, his paranoia was acting up once more.
"Saren wanted the Information buried *[Shick]* whatever intrinsic value it may have had *[Shick]* matters not… Exposing this information will hurt Saren *[Shick]* costing the Broker nothing…"
"What about the Mercenary?" Kaiden muttered, "Why waste the Credits…?"
"The cost of doing business *[Shick]* Fist's betrayal cannot go unpunished… *[Shick]."
"Fine… where can we find this Krogan," muttered Kaiden, he could tell that he wasn't about to get anything more substantial from this aggravating conversation.
"You'll find him in the C-Sec HQ *[Shick]* Oh… by the way… his names Wrex… Urdnot Wrex… *[Shick]*."
+=Shepard & Sigmund=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Tayseri Ward=+
+=Flux=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[58.23.14]=+
+=[mark: +58.23.27]=+
Typical… it must be some sort of Universal Constant, Sigmund thought melodramatically…
That if you want Information; you go to a Bar… and that Bar – by some Unknown Law of Physics – will be stocked to the Rafters with; Alcohol… Defensible Fighting Positions… and an almost Infinite number of Stool-Pigeons waiting to talk.
However… he felt compelled to ask the skittish woman standing next to him, "Please tell me Shepard… how exactly we are going to find this 'Harkin' fellow… by getting a drink in a Bar?"
Shepard, her eyes still scanning the Bar, whispered conspiratorially out the corner of her mouth, "We're trying to be inconspicuous… and we… are looking for anyone acting conspicuous. It's like standard practise when 'chasing down leads'… I think…"
Sigmund – as if in contemplation – looked uncertainly down at the pink Cocktail that Shepard – had just bought him – where it sat on a table that was far to flimsy to even support his weight. He just shook his head, as he looked up to find that nearly every patron – Human and Alien alike – within this 'Bar' were looking at him… and an even larger number were looking at Shepard worriedly. Who – quite frankly – looked like a deranged rabbit on speed, as her eyes flicked left and right, trying to watch pretty much anyone and everyone that moved.
With a sigh Sigmund turned back to face Shepard, and perhaps ask the most rhetorical question he had ever voiced – out-loud at least, "You do realise that it's next to impossible to be 'Discrete'… while standing next to a Space Marine… right?"
Shepard winced slightly when he muttered the word 'Discrete' and looked very sheepish when she replied, "Well… it kinda slipped my mind… I had gotten so used to being in your shadow… I kinda forgot…"
"Shepa~rd… where did you learn your Counter-Espionage skills?" was his next frustrated question.
"Uhm… I actually saw it in a Movie once," Shepard replied quietly, her face turning bright red with embarrassment.
Sigmund just groaned at the naïve redhead's latest almost-a-blunder… he really wished he hadn't worn his Helm, just so he could grind the palms of his hands into his very tired and itchy eye-sockets. He took a deep breath… a really deep breath as he tried to think of the best way to explain to Shepard exactly just how stupid her idea just sounded, out-loud like that, without – and this was the important bit – hurting her feelings. Something he never really had to worry about before… ever.
"Well… when you say it out-loud like that it sounds really stupid. What should we do now?" asked Shepard succinctly, her previous embarrassment – like moisture on a hot rock – evaporated quickly into thin air.
"Firstly ask the Waitress, if this… 'Harkin' is a regular round here. Then we go and start looking in the most unsavoury 'Gentleman's Clubs' we can find… first," Sigmund instructed her calmly, "the last place we're going to find an Alcoholic Reprobate like Harkin in an upscale establishment like this… Oh and Shepard; try not to help everyone you're going to meet… Shepard?"
Where has that bloody woman gotten to…
He scanned the Bar briefly… only to find Shepard talking quietly to one of the Waitresses by the Bar…
Huh… she works fast, good… the faster we get this done, the faster – wait…is that girl crying?
He moved closer, only to hear, "… is there anything I can do to help?"
"Damn it Shepard!"
+=Kaiden & Ashley=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Presidium Embassy District=+
+=C-Sec Headquarters Foyer=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[02.24.14]=+
+=[mark: +02.24.27]=+
Hire.
Fire.
Expire.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Here we see yet another Universal Constant in action; which is that most Sentient Beings – when faced with a giant Omnivorous Lizard storming its way towards you – most 'Sane' Sentient Beings quickly choose to get out of his way… faster than a Bat out of Hell. Which would explain why this particular Krogan – stomping his way up a flight of steps (that led up from the C-Sec holding-tank) – was parting the Crowd ahead of him like a particularly grumpy Moses parting the Red-Sea.
Now… most people (and Aliens too) avoided the Krogan on principle, so it wasn't that surprising that no-one really noticed the thoughtful frown stretched quite uncomfortably across this particular Krogan's – heavily scarred – face. The point of contention within this particular lizards keenly-honed tactical mind? The instructions he had just received from his Handler were very clear… and could be summed up in two simple points; 1) the Broker was not impressed when he got arrested by C-Sec while threatening to Kill his Target… and 2) the Broker was sending him some 'Back-up' to resolve his Fist problem.
Now… after reading something like that most Krogan would completely disregard their Orders and just Kill Fist as brutally and as violently as possible. But Wrex wasn't just the average Krogan, and you didn't get to be as old as he did, without learning a lot of things. Patience being the first – and hardest – Lesson he had ever learnt… and Strategy being a close second.
However – like most Krogan – Wrex didn't like others fighting his Battles for him. However… he understood that sometimes you need to fight – together – with others in order to Win. And while he did like fighting just for the shear thrill of it – like most Krogan – but… unlike most Krogan… he did have an unusual level of forethought, for a Krogan that is. It didn't matter if you enjoyed the Battle – or not – it doesn't matter. What mattered were the Credits. No Credits… no Armour… No Credits… no Weapons… No Credits… no more Battles…
But that didn't mean he was doing this for the Credits… no… he was doing this for a more base reason. He was curious; but that's not what interested him about this 'Team-up'… No… what interested him was… who… he was teaming up with, and that was why he had just stomped up Five Flights of Stairs and spent the last Ten Minutes dealing with the a pack Bureaucratic C-Sec arseholes. Apparently he was going to get to work with the 'Commander Shepard'…
This was going to be interesting…
Now apparently he was supposed to meet her in the Atrium of the C-Sec Headquarters. So when he reached the top of the last flight of Stairs, the first thought that was gently burning at the back of his mind was…
Where are you Shepard –
"Hey Krogan! Yeah You!"
Wrex wasn't impressed with the name-calling… and when he turned to find an angry looking female Human C-Sec Officer glaring at him… well let's just say that she didn't seem that impressed with him either. At least that's what he thought it meant, when she creased those fuzzy things above her eyes. Damn… Krogan females were so much easier to understand; when they were angry with you… you knew it. Mostly because if they were angry with you, they would then try to kill you… or stuff explosives down your throat… or they would rip your Quad off and –
"Listen up Krogan… stay away from Fist, this is your final warning," the Officer informed him gruffly, "I've had enough complaints about you… I don't want to find you within a hundred yards of Chora's Den or Fist… Got it?"
As if you could stop me, thought Wrex with a smirk as he decided that maybe he should needle the Officer a little bit more.
"I will kill him," he grumbled, all macho and shit.
All that got him was another of those funny fuzzy face crease-y things… Huh, he was actually starting to enjoy seeing that look. Maybe he should try to annoy Humans more often. That was until he looked over the Officers shoulder, and saw a pair of Alliance Marines standing near one of the Elevators… watching him. He shifted about menacingly and nudged the Officer out of his way – none to gently – and stomped over to them threateningly.
"You Shepard?" he asked gruffly the Marine in – was that… pink?
"No… but –"
"Don't waste my time Human," he grunted as he shoved past her, as he headed toward an Elevator that led down into the Wards.
"Barla Von sent us," declared the female as she tried to get his attention.
"Is that name supposed to mean something… Human?" he muttered flippantly, he was still marching away from her.
"He said you were going after Fist," she clarified – still trying to get his attention – not that it was working…
"Yeah… what of it… Human," he muttered antagonistically, as he jammed his thumb into the control panel on the wall next to the Elevator.
"Fist has some information my Commander wants," replied the human evenly, ignoring his antagonism.
The door to the elevator opened, he stomped into elevator car and turned to face the Marines…
Last chance to get a reaction… he thought sadistically.
"… And your Commander would be?" he muttered flippantly.
As the door began to slowly close, she replied with but a single word…
"Shepard."
Thunk…
His reaction was instinctual and instantaneous; his right hand shot out and stopped the doors from closing.
Interesting… he looked the pair up and down and then asked, "And what is she planning on doing about it?"
The Marine shrugged nonchalantly, and then replied in pretty much the same flippant tone he'd just used against her less than a minute earlier, "knowing Shepard… She'll ask Fist what he knows nicely…"
"And if the Bastard says no?"
"Then… she blow up his Bar and round off an eventful afternoon by shooting him in the Ass!"
Wrex felt funny when he heard that… it was strange… he couldn't remember the last time he felt like… that. He couldn't explain it… but before he could over think it. He started laughing… the laughter rippled along his throat… rumbling deep down in his chest… it even reached at least two of his stomachs.
When he had caught his breath, he asked the Marine in pink, "Damn Human, where do I sign-up?"
She smirked at him and replied, "first things first… Wrex… what more can you tell us about… What the Broker wants with Fist?"
"There's a Quarian… she has something bad on Saren. She went to Fist, and then she disappeared," explained Wrex simply, "the Broker wants the Quarians Intel… and for his Betrayal… the Broker wants Fist dead."
"Damn, Shepards gonna want to hear about this," groused the Pink-Marine as she activated her Omni-Tool, "Anything else she should know?"
"Yeah… I'm not the only one going after Fist… there's some Turian C-Sec hard-ass that's after him too."
+=Shepard & Sigmund=+
+=Citadel=+
+=Tayseri Ward=+
+=Outside Chora's Den=+
+=[043.183.M03]=+
+=[14.24.14]=+
+=[mark: +14.24.27]=+
"Is it just me… or do you also think that no real 'gentleman'… would be found dead in a place like this,'" Shepard's rhetorical question drifted across the uncomfortable silence between her and Sigmund.
Sigmund remained silent before turning to glare at her… the emotion was palpable… before…
"Stop avoiding the question Shepard," growled Sigmund, it was pretty much the same line he'd been asking her since they had left Flux, "How does helping that women and her sister… get us any closer in our hunt for Saren?"
That was the question she had been avoiding for a while… because she knew that the answer she had, well… It wasn't really an answer at all… and she was dreading his reaction to it.
"I don't know Sarge… it just –"
"Felt right… hummm… I felt it too, there's… someone in this 'Club' that will… Illuminate our path going forward," he replied enigmatically almost… sagely, he was being for more understanding than she expected.
"Now what?" she asked him tiredly, she was stressed and she was at a loss of what to do next, she was just glad that the tension that had built up between the two had bleed away quietly.
"You go in and talk to this 'Jenna', I'll watch the Room for any… unusual reactions… I'll follow your lead from there," he instructed… no… that wasn't right, it felt more like… advice.
"Good plan; low expectations, very little left to chance… Not too much can go wrong," she commented factually as she led the way into the 'Club'.
Very little had changed since they'd last been in the 'Club'… there was maybe a few more armed men wearing 'Civies' than last time, but other than that, everything seemed normal. She gave the Bar a quick sweep for a second, but… she didn't catch sight of anyone that matched the description she had been given of this infamous Harkin. So she put him out of her mind for the foreseeable future, as she turned toward the Bar looking for someone… anyone that matched the description that Rita had given of her… sister.
Correction… she spotted a very scantily-clad Woman… whom – sort of – matched the description. She got the feeling that this was somehow… right. She walked up to the Bar, and with a wave of her hand, she quickly caught the scantily-clad Bar-Tenders attention.
"What can I get you?" asked the girl in her skin-tight Cat-Suit.
"You Jenna?" she asked nonchalantly, as she swept her gaze across the other patrons seated around the island-like Bar.
"Yeah," the now identified Jenna, answered hesitantly.
"Your sister sent me," she watched as the Girls eyes gave of a hardened glint, she quickly changed tack… and speaking more softly told her that, "She's worried about you, she –"
"I don't know who you're talking about," Jenna muttered stiffly, "Here's your drink…"
She slid a martini glass sitting on a serviette across the counter toward Shepard, the confused Marine opened her mouth to –
"It's on the House," Jenna replied distractedly as she walked away from them, she did however get the last word in though…
"Don't forget your Serviette Commander…"
Raising an eyebrow, Shepard slid the Cocktail-Glass off the Serviette, only to notice writing on the Paper-Napkin bellow…
Talk to Chellick…
"What is it with this Galaxy and frilly coloured drinks?" Sigmund spat in disgust, thus drawing her from her contemplation of her bar-napkin.
"Beats me," she muttered.
She quickly downed her drink before turning to leave, she discretely obliterated the napkin by using it to wipe up some moisture. She was about three feet from the door, when a drunken Turian bumped into her –
"Watch where you're going… Human!" he spat drunkenly as –
She was knocked back a step. Completely unnoticed her Omni-Tool flashed Red for a second, before –
The Turian shoved past her, and stumbled on out of the Club…
"Uncouth Bastard," Sigmund muttered under his breath, "let's keep moving Shepard."
She nodded absently, as she followed Sigmund out of the Club… only to spot that drunken Turian… far more sober than he appeared and watching them pointedly. He then turned and disappeared into an open alleyway.
Strange… observed Shepard, what could –
Beep-Beep-Beep-
To her shock her left wrist grew hot, as her Omni-Tool… Damn… it was flashing red – what?
+=[Over-Heat Warning]=+
In a moment of panic she brought the Haptic – Orange-Holographic – Interface, however the moment she touched the flashing-red gauntlet… it flashed red once and changed… to display – strangely – a messaging window…
+=Meet me Here=+
+=Chellick=+
Attached to the message was a map of the Club and the nearby service passages. She quickly searched the Map, and noticed a flashing alien-looking symbol, she gently tapped the symbol with a finger… and the message disappeared. And with that her Omni-Tool flashed red – once – and turned back to normal. However… the only thought that was going through Shepard's mind was one of anger…
That bastard… he Spiked my Omni-Tool!
She completely forgot about Sigmund… and the fact that she was standing in a public passageway… as she stormed her way toward the alleyway she'd seen that Drunken-But-Sober-Looking Turian Bastard disappear into. She sped round the corner into the Alley only to find said Turian; looking remarkably sober and leaning nonchalantly against one of the Alleyway Walls.
"So good of you to join us Shepard," the Turian greeted her theatrically.
And with that he stopped leaning casually up against the wall, and marched toward her angrily. He then – much to Shepard's surprise – jabbed a Talon against her Chest-Plate before demanding to know, "Just what is your Problem, Shepard?"
To say Shepard was slightly surprised would be an understatement, and before she could even splutter a reply… Chellick continued to rip into her verbally.
"You were this close to blowing her cover," he growled, as he held up a hand as he pinched the air between two Talons, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Shepard was speechless… and before she could marshal her words… a startlingly familiar – rasping and synthetic – voice openly challenged the Turian, "You endangered the Life of an innocent… and yet you still have the audacity to accuse the Commander of negligence?"
"She's not as 'Innocent' as you believe," declared Chellick suggestively, but before they could react angrily, he clarified that, "C-Sec recuited her right out of High-School… about a year and a half ago. She's been working undercover for the last six months… and you… almost got her killed. Now what does Fist have to do with Saren?"
"How did you –"
Beep-Beep
It was serendipity… before Shepard could even come up with a convincing lie; she got a Voice-Call on her Omni-Tool.
"Shepard here…"
=Commander, we've run down Anderson's Lead… a Krogan – goes by the name Wrex – was hired to kill some Crime-Boss called Fist. Apparently Fist has a lead on some compromising Evidence on Saren… Wrex wants to help… what do I do Commander?= Ashley asked the Commander over the Com-Link.
"Give me a moment Chief," Shepard paused as she looked over at Chellick, "looks like we have a Link… Chellick. Anything else you can tell me Ash?"
=Not much Commander… just a rumour that some Turian – probably that Garrus guy – has more Intel on the Sources location= Ashley replied.
"Source?" queried Shepard.
=Yeah, some Quarian apparently… Wrex doesn't have any more details though=
"Stand-by Chief… well Chellick, do you want in? We're going to track Garrus down first… he'll probably have at least some kind of incriminating Evidence…"
Chellick seemed to ponder that for a moment… Shepard let it remain unsaid that, said 'incriminating evidence' might have nothing to do with Fist… However after a few more seconds of careful thought he gave her a nod.
He quickly opened his Omni-Tool, muttering, "Yeah… just give me a minute, I'm sending Jenna a Message to Prep for Extraction."
"You get that Chief…"
=Affirmative Commander, requesting Location for Rendezvous…=
"Roger that Chief… RV at Doctor Michel's Clinic in the Tayseri Ward… we'll brainstorm a plan of action then," Shepard instructed the Marine over her Com-Link.
=Roger that Commander…=
"… Okay Wrex you heard the Commander… Welcome aboard," Ashley announced melodramatically as she joined the Krogan in the Elevator, "you got any idea where this Clinic is…?"
"Humans…," Wrex grumbled exasperatedly, "You do have Omni-Tools don't you? Or are the Alliance Budget-Cuts that bad?"
"Are you getting Senile… Toad, or are you trying to start something?" Ashley sniped right back; her sarcasm was really starting to bite.
"What Human… you've never seen a Krogan trying to start a fight before?" quipped Wrex; returning – verbal – fire.
"Hahaha… Wrex you're so funny – I've got the Co-ordinates," interjected Kaiden, trying his best to bring this 'argument' to a polite end… before either of them came to blows, "It's just two elevator rides down, and we'll come out near a Club called 'Flux'… the Clinic is a block away from there."
"Counter to… or with the rotation of the Station?" Wrex asked Kaiden in a way that sounded strangely serious.
"Counter," replied Kaiden evenly.
"What's rotation got to do with anything," asked Ashley, she was very confused, while waiting for an explanation she slapped the Down-Icon on the control-panel with a closed fist.
As the elevator began to descend, Kaiden tried to explain to Ashley that, "you'll find that most people who live on the Citadel tend to give directions… by telling you to go along or across the Wards… usually in relation to the Presidium. However… most Military and Civilian navigation software, will give you directions in Degrees off of the Line of Rotation –"
"Thanks… I'm going to pretend that I understood that," she muttered sarcastically as the doors opened.
The hallway was empty, as Ashley led the make-shift Team out of the Elevator – or so they thought – they passed several small but crowded rooms… before reaching yet another elevator. A minute later they stepped out of the last elevator into a strange white corridor. The wall seemed to be upholstered in white padded leather… behind a wall of – what looked like – glass. Ashley – regardless of whether or not she noticed the interior decorations – calmly advanced down the corridor, calling back over her shoulder to Kaiden as she went…
"How far out are we?"
"We'll be there in less than a minute, Chief," replied Kaiden evenly, as he lengthened his stride to catch up with the pink Marine.
Not missing a beat Ashley activated her Com-Link to inform Shepard that, "we're a minute out Commander."
=Double time it, Chief. We've got a situation at the Clinic=
"On our way," she responded simply, before she cut the link, "move it Team!"
They dashed the last few meters, each drawing a side-arm on the move. Less than a minute later they spotted Shepard, Sigmund and an – as of yet unidentified – Turian in an Orange and Purple Suit taking cover on either side of the – closed – door to the Clinic. They all had their weapons drawn, even Sigmund, and as Shepard caught sight of them she raised a fist to bring Ashley's 'Team' to a halt. Shepard tapped her left wrist, and quickly sent Ashley a quick text message – without activating her Omni-Tools display…
+=hostiles in clinic=+
+=prep for breach=+
Ashley nodded to the Commander, as Shepard raised a hand and gestured Ashley's Team to either side of the door. Ashley and Wrex stacked up behind Sigmund, while Kaiden took up a position behind the Turian. Once they were in position, Shepard held up her left hand.
Five fingers…
Then four…
Then three…
Two…
One…
Shepard whacked the holographic door-icon with the bottom of her Fist, just as it opened Sigmund swung round, with that hand cannon of his raised up and –
They had reached an impasse…
But by the time Ashley had gotten into the room… things had gotten out of hand, and one of the Thugs had taken a Hostage.
"Stay back… or the Doctor loses everything between her pretty little ears," yelled the panicked thug that was holding a pistol against her head.
Shit… this just went from bad to worse, thought Ashley morosely from her position behind Sigmund, one wrong move… one small slip-up… and the Hostage dies… we can't – wait what?
For some reason the Sergeant was Mag-Locking his Cannon to his forearm, but before she could question him – at all – there was a gunshot…
And all hell broke loose…
Moments earlier Sigmund had entered the Clinic to find – time slowing, as his analytical mind automatically analysed the room for…
Theoretical:
Five contacts. Four armed hostiles. One non-combatant.
Layout; scattered pillars, one waist high wall to the right.
Primary hostage-taker, designated as Hostile-1.
Remaining hostage-takers, designated as Hostiles-2 through 4.
Hostiles 2 to 4 to the left of Hostile-1 in reverse-V Formation.
Practical:
Holster Bolter, enclosed space will increase risk of collateral damage.
Eliminate Hostile-1 first, then – wait…
Sixth contact detected… to the right of Hostile-1… Contact identified: Garrus…
Sigmund withdrew a little from that plateau his analytical mind resided upon… allowing some emotion to trickle back into his thoughts, he's positioning himself to take out the Primary Hostage-Taker…
Practical:
Holster Bolter, eliminate Hostiles 2 and 3 in CQB.
Palm strike to chest of Hostile-2.
Downward heel-kick to lower extremities, then slam vambrace into the Skull of Hostile-3.
Backhand Hostile-4, incapacitate for Questioning.
Wait for it… wait… wa~it…
Three seconds later, Garrus made his move…
Bang!
Execute…
He took two steps forward…
And before Hostile-2 could react…
He drove an open palm into his chest.
With a crunch he flew back –
He drew his right boot up –
Driving it down crushing the knee of Hostile-3 –
Crack, Hostile-2 – still sailing through the air –
Struck the wall of the Clinic, before sliding down.
And before Hostile-3 could cry out,
Sigmund crushed his head…
Between his arm-guard and a pillar.
Less than a second later he twisted round…
To find Hostile-4… standing there… shaking…
With his Pistol pointed at his helm…
Sigmund slowly… casually… drew his arm back, but before he could back hand the pathetic balding human –
"Drop it," Garrus commanded, as he place the barrel of his pistol against Hostile-4's head, "don't make me – Spirits… Harkin? What are you doing here?"
Silence, was the only type of sound being heard within the Clinic… a few seconds later the click-clack of a forgotten pistol being dropped broke the silence…
Something that Big… shouldn't… be able to move that fast, was the only thought echoing through Shepard's stunned mind.
That was, of course… until Garrus spoke… what he said… now that… that got her attention.
"Harkin…? As in Udina's 'Source'," asked Shepard as she advanced toward the sallow-middle-aged-pathetic-balding… speck, "what the hell is he doing here?!"
"That's what I'd like to know Shepard," rasped Garrus, with anger – like mercury – swirling… simmering in the pits of his silver-blue eyes, "what Harkin… the Tribunal didn't have enough incriminating evidence? You just had to add extortion to your resume as well?"
"What I want to know is who the hell he's working for?" muttered Shepard venomously.
"Fist…," Chellick replied quietly, as he entered the conversation with confidence.
"I knew he was dirty, but I didn't think he would stoop this low," Garrus replied calmly, the barrel of his pistol was still resting against Harkin's temple.
"He was flagged by Customs and Networking for various 'irregularities'… one thing led to another, and his case wound up on my desk," explained Chellick evenly, his sharp gaze never leaving the pathetic trembling form of Harkin, "it's thanks to his 'misdeeds' that I got enough ammunition, to launch an investigation against Fist…"
He paused… letting Harkin sweat for a bit… before he asked in a very angry – and very quiet – voice that managed to reach nearly every corner in the room, "Now… you little barefaced traitor! What… did… Fist… send… you… after!"
Garrus punctuated each and every one of his venomous words with a jab from a very sharp talon into Harkin's sweaty little chest. However… what stunned Shepard the most was the amount of venom he had injected into the word; 'Barefaced'. Hell – the way he said it – you couldn't put more bile into the word 'Child-Molester' even if you tried.
"I have no idea –"
"Grow a quad Harkin… Spirits damn it man, at least try… to be original, you lying sack of Varren Shit!" Chellick yelled, as he got right in the disgraced Officers face, "you're going down Harkin… where you end up that's your choice… and you only have two; Special Custody… or General Population… an ex-Cop like you wouldn't last ten minutes in General Population…"
"You don't scare me Chellick, I've got friends… friends in high-places… you can't touch me," Harkin declared arrogantly.
"Don't push your luck, Harkin," Garrus warned as he ground the barrel of his pistol into Harkin's temple.
"Allow me Shepard," Sigmund stated quietly, the muffled synthetic rasp that came out of his respirator only adding to his menace.
Shepard waited for a moment; however before she could reply she was interrupted… by a rather petite cough coming from directly behind them. As a group the patchwork squad turned… to find Doctor Michel standing there – quietly – a small closed fist raised daintily over her mouth.
"If I may… I don't know what, he was after… but I do know who he was after," declared Doctor Michel far more confidently than she appeared, her French accent was tingeing her words a slight bit more than usual.
At the Doctors words the colour drained from Harkin's face, faster than air from a popped balloon.
"She doesn't know what she's talking about… she's delusional," he cried in desperation.
"You have the right to remain silent, Harkin… use it," Garrus declared sarcastically, as he quickly flash-forged a pair of disposable-cuffs around Harkin's wrist… as well as a smattering of Omni-Gel to jam his Omni-Tool, however he wasn't so busy that he couldn't be polite, "carry on Doctor."
With a slight blush, the Doctor continued, "a few days ago… a Quarian, came to me… She wouldn't give me her name, but she had been shot… I patched her up as best as I could, and tried to get her to go to C-Sec, but… she said they wouldn't listen… so…"
"It's okay Doctor, please continue," soothed Garrus calmly.
"She wanted to contact the Shadow Broker," announced the Doctor in a rush, she swept her gaze across them uncertainly, "So… I put her in touch with Fist…"
She looked about and saw the uncertainty writ large across their brows, before she asked hesitantly, "at least… I thought he worked for the Broker… right?"
"He was," declared Wrex gruffly, "but… not anymore…"
"He's leading her into a trap," declared Garrus worriedly, "we need to raid Fist's so called Club… now!"
"You don't have a say in this, Vakarian," growled Chellick menacingly as he turned to face Garrus, forcing the other detective to take a step back, "your little stunt almost got the Hostage killed!"
"Actually, his actions allowed for a swift resolution to the Stand-Off," interjected Sigmund calmly, Garrus seemed to swell at the praise he was being given, "no matter how stupid it seemed…"
And with that the tension bleed from the room, as the sound of mirth bounced off the walls of the Clinic, they seemed to be doing a lot of that since they found Sigmund. Even Garrus contributed an embarrassed chuckle to the festivities, however after a few moments Sigmund continued…
"Our window of opportunity is closing fast; Fist will grow suspicious when his men don't check in. Whatever you think Chellick, we need Vakarian… and we need to strike now!"
"This is my investigation… I've invested months of my Life into taking that Bastard down. I'm going to be the one to take Fist down!" declared Chellick angrily.
"This is bigger than you or me, Detective… and while we stand here arguing, we are running out of Time. We need to act now; otherwise Fist will be able to bury the evidence of his crimes… of his duplicity in the murder of thousands. You have neither the equipment nor the man-power to assault Chora's Den. However Garrus has the equipment… and we have the man-power. Together we can do this… either of you can deputise us…"
Chellick hesitated for a mere moment before, "I don't know –"
"Detective… you have two choices," declared Shepard confidently, "either you can do your part to bring down a vast Criminal Conspiracy, or…," she paused, gesturing to a cuffed Harkin, "You can arrest the Consolation Prize."
Chellick paused and looked down at his feet in contemplation, before he straightened up and turned to face Garrus with renewed purpose.
"Detective Vakarian, I am ordering you to head to Chora's Den, and seize any-and-all Evidence pertaining to any outstanding Criminal Cases."
With that declaration, he turned to look Shepard in the eye and informed her cheerfully, "Congratulations Shepard, for the next Twenty-Four Hours, you and your Team are deputies of C-Sec. Now give me a moment to contact Jenna… She needs to get out, before we go in."
He turned away from them to make the call, while Shepard was preparing to mentally pat herself on the back when…
"We have a problem Shepard… I've lost contact with Jenna…"