Mordin

The salarian's large eyes took in the dilapidated sights that were ubiquitous on Omega. Trash was piled up in corners with people shifting through it to find anything that had value or was edible.

"Interesting," Mordin said quietly to himself. "General population human, batarian, vorcha. Lack of turians understandable. Like to stay within the Hierarchy. Asari absence unusual. Other species not as widespread. Krogan population decline…"

The thought gave him pause. He stood still for a moment before shaking his head. "Necessary. Krogan birthrates increasing beyond tolerable limits. Had to be done."

Still, he felt rooted to the ground. Eventually, a strong shove from behind awoke him from the daze.

"Keep moving, half horn," a gruff voice said.

Mordin stepped aside to allow the large krogan behind him to pass. His eyes followed the lumbering being as the salarian attempted to answer the new mystery.

"Half horn" was a derogatory name given to those who have betrayed their clan. Since their race was heavily invested in genealogical lines, anyone who had been deemed a traitor to their family was no longer allowed to use their clan's line in breeding negotiations. They were given a physical reminder of their new status; one of their horns was removed.

Even though they received harsh treatment, the half horns were still allowed to live within the clan territory, and some were even allowed back into full membership if they proved themselves worthy of redemption. The redeemed received a tattoo, signifying that their time as a half horn was over. Others that continued to betray their family were exiled, having both of their horns removed. These "hornless" were accepted nowhere.

The practice has fallen to the wayside since the salarians met the asari on the Citadel. Only the most traditional and isolated colonies continued the custom, but the cautionary tales still told to the race's clutches contained many half horn or hornless characters as examples. So, the two were entrenched in every salarian's mind.

Mordin did not receive his injury from betraying his clan however. His horn was lost on an STG mission. The tattoo on his forehead was given to him afterward to clarify that his missing appendage was to be honored and admired, not looked upon with disdain.

Now, how a krogan knew of the half horn status was what perplexed Mordin. While they mostly blamed the turians for the genophage, there was no love between their race and the salarians, the affliction's creators. Then again, the krogan's knowledge may be a testament to the uniqueness of Omega, where those from various backgrounds bind together to survive in this desolate place.

Mordin shelved that line of thought away to be reexamined at a different time when he had more data points to compare to, as well as completely forgetting the turmoil he felt just moments before. His attention turned to the immediate, and, right now, he must continue to hunt for the space that will become his clinic.

After an hour of searching through the haphazardly placed streets and buildings, the salarian doctor finally found his newly purchased space. He also found a human man standing just outside of the doors. When he noticed Mordin's approach, the man smiled and quickly walked toward him.

"Are you Dr. Solus?" the young human asked.

"Yes." He studied the man in front of him. "And who are you? Not a patient. No signs of visible symptoms. Not armed, so mugger out of the question. Too well dressed to be inhabitant of area. Professional, official, clean." Mordin took moment. "You're here for a job."

The man's eyebrow arched, a common human reaction Mordin found. "Yes. My name is Dr. Daniel Abrams. I hoped you would take me on as your assistant in your new clinic."

"How did you hear about it? Not widely known. Few would start a clinic on Omega. Fewer in this district."

"Which is why everyone is talking about it. You're a pioneer, Dr. Solus, and I want to help."

"Interesting but not unheard of."

"What is, Doctor?"

"Talk of my arrival. Some could potentially see my presence as a saving grace while others see it as an invasion. Both scenarios not without precedent. Such tactics have been used in the pass. But not the reason I am here. Simply want to help. Where did you study medicine, Dr. Abrams."

"I went to medical school on Elysium. I graduated in the top twenty five percentile of my class."

Mordin nodded. "Which school? Copperstone, Stillwater, Illyria?"

Dr. Abrams seemed baffled that he knew of the med schools on Elysium. "Stillwater. How do you-"

"Associate of mine tenured at Stillwater. Dr. Lorik Kesh. Brilliant geneticists. Egotistical cloaca. Always believed he was only one able to solve problems."

Abrams laughed. "That's Dr. Kesh all right. He used to tell stories about his associates and how he always had to correct their mistakes. He never mentioned you though."

"Course not. I was reason he was salutatorian. Never got over it." He took a deep breath. "Now, should we see our new clinic?"

The young man's eyes brightened. "Thank you, Dr. Solus!"

The doctor merely nodded. They started toward the door, but, before they could enter the building, a man cleared his throat behind them, drawing their attention. The two doctors turned to see three armored individuals standing there, two turians and a human.

"So this must be the great Mordin Solus that this district has been abuzz about," the lead turian said. "You have become quite the talk recently, Doctor. Supposedly, you're here to save the area."

"Incorrect. I'm here just to help the infirm. Not interested in overthrowing anyone."

The turian nodded. "That's good to hear. Then we shouldn't have too much of a problem." He stepped closer to the two doctors. "Now, I'm sure you probably don't know who we represent-"

"Of course," Mordin interrupted. "Armor and weaponry suggest Blue Suns. The human's tattoo on neck confirms suspicion. Mercenary group deals in security, smuggling, and slaving among other things."

The turian cleared his throat again. "Yes, well. You should be aware that the Gozu district is also under Blue Sun protection. We require a small tax for services rendered however. We are here to get your first payment."

"No need. Quite capable of protecting myself. Please do not bother us again unless you are injured. Will help you then." Mordin turned and started to usher Daniel in the building.

"I don't think you understand-"

Mordin interrupted him again. "On the contrary; understand perfectly. If I don't pay you, you ruin my clinic. Simple extortion. Nothing too difficult to comprehend."

The turian began to grow impatient with the fast talking salarian. "Then I suggest you pay up, mansuetus."

Instead of answering, Mordin brought up his omnitool, typed in a few quick commands, and pointed it toward the three mercenaries. All of their weapons began to spark and power off.

"Your weapons are now useless. Now, if you will excuse me, my clinic needs to be set up before I am able to see patients. Please do not escalate this matter further." He turned and walked to his building. He could hear the three men trying each other weapons to see if what he said was correct.

"This isn't over, salarian," the turian said once he realized how helpless he was. "You made the entire Blue Suns your enemy this day."

Then, Mordin heard the human merc quietly say, "Geez, first Archangel is breathing down our necks, now this guy. What the fu-" The door closed, cutting off the rest of whatever the man was saying.

All thought on the encounter outside was brushed away by the salarian. He had bigger issues that needed to be dealt with right now.

Unfortunately, his new assistant wasn't going to let it drop.

"By the Maker, what were you thinking, Dr. Solus?"

"I was thinking that this would make for a great reception area," he replied, not quite catching on.

"No, I meant with the Blue Suns. They could have killed you. They will probably come back and kill you."

Mordin sighed. "Definitely try. I will deal with it when the time comes. Now must attend to more pressing matters."

"Your life could be in danger," Daniel continued. He was not letting the topic go, much to Mordin's exasperation. "How can you be so flippant about it? And what did that turian call you?"

"Mansuetus. Old turian word for soft, limp, feeble. Common insult for salarians. Lack of carapace and sturdy skeletons cause us to be more flexible than other species.

"And I'm not flippant. Nothing I can do about it now. Focused on what can be accomplished." He headed down a hallway leading to what he decided would be the exam room. "Come along, Daniel. There is much work to be done."

Zaeed

"Please. Please don't take me back. I'll give you anything."

"Shut your goddamn mouth. I don't want to listen to any of your sniveling."

"I-I have money. I can pay you. Just-just let me go. Please."

"I said shut up. Last warning."

"I'll double what they are paying you. Please! They will kill me if you take me back."

The older human at the controls made sure the ship was still on course before standing up, approaching the crying, restrained man in the corner of his small cockpit. The younger human looked optimistic, hoping his pleas fell on sympathetic ears.

They had not.

The grizzled man punched his captive in the jaw hard enough to knock him to the floor. Before his bounty could regain some semblance of composure, the hunter kicked him in the gut forcing a pained gasp. The assailant then knelt next to the wheezing man as blood sprayed from his lips.

"I told you to shut up. I warned you. If you weren't worth so much more to me alive, I would have probably killed you by now. It's a long trip back to my employers, so, if you want to spend it in relative comfort, I suggest you stop talking.

"And I know you're just some two-bit thief that had horrible luck to steal from someone you shouldn't have, but grow a pair. Quit bawling, and face your fate with some goddamn dignity."

With that, the hunter left his captive on the floor and returned to the pilot's chair. As he looked for any route that could take him to his destination faster, he heard soft sobs come from the broken man that still was on the floor. A sigh escaped his lips.

This is going to be a long, grueling ride.

"Zaeed Massani!" a batarian yelled at the hunter when he saw him. "I wondered when you would be back."

"Goran," he answered simply. He shoved his capture toward the man. "Got a bounty to claim."

"So I see." The batarian checked his datapad. "Ah, here it is. Zachary Springer, hundred thousand credits alive. Minus my finder's fee… that comes to seventy thousand credits for you."

"Thirty percent, Goran?" Zaeed said disgusted. "Don't give me that bullshit. Ten percent."

"Come on, Massani. I have to make a living too. I have to deal with all of these other crap bounty hunters and mercs. I know you're always bringing in cash, but the others are damn near useless. Twenty percent."

"That's your goddamn problem, not mine. Fifteen and not a credit more."

"All right, all right. Fifteen." Goran took an empty credit chit, transferred the eighty five thousand to it, and handed to bounty hunter. "Always a pleasure doing business with you, Zaeed."

"Yeah, yeah. Hopefully I won't have to see your ugly mug too soon, four eyes."

He turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't you want to know the new jobs I've gotten since you've been gone?" Goran asked.

"Why? You got some that your other lackeys can finish?" Zaeed shrugged off the batarian's hand. "I have a different job coming up, and it pays a hell of a lot better than your sorry ass does. I just need to finish up a few other bounties I took before they call on me."

Goran gave him a batarian smile, an expression that always set Zaeed on edge. "Oh, I think you will want to have a look at this particular mission. I saved it just for you. Let's call it a professional courtesy."

That piqued the hunter's interest. Goran was many things, most not good, and courteous was not one of them. He was known for giving the same job to many different bounty hunters to increase the chances of success and receiving his cut. Holding a job from for a particular person was not his style.

"You got five minutes," Zaeed told him simply.

"Do you know the Eldfell-Ashland Energy Corporation?"

Zaeed nodded. "Course. Human mining company that owns about every fuel processing site in the galaxy."

"Well, one of their processing plants was overrun a couple of months ago. According to their sources, the plant was barely damaged in the attack and the new owners are using the captured workforce to produce whatever it produced.

"Eldfell-Ashland didn't like the thought of losing that plant. They said something about how it was vital to the system or whatever. Doesn't matter. What does matter is that they tried to send in their security as a strike team to take it back. They failed. So now they are looking for outside help."

Massani crossed his arms and shifted his weight. "So send in your army of bounty hunters. Why should I care about this?"

"The survivors of the failed attempt came back with some interesting intel. They found out that it was the Blue Suns that captured the plant, and they showed no signs of leaving."

"Still not seeing how this involves me, Goran. Get to the point."

"Reports also say that Vido Santiago is there."

Before the batarian could react, Zaeed grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands in iron grip. He could feel the alien's breath was over his face.

"Are you sure?" Massani demanded, shaking the broker for good measure. "If I fucking get there and Vido isn't there, there will be no place for you to-"

"I'm as positive as I can be," Goran said simply. "I don't know if he will still be there, but all indications show that he planned on being around for a while."

The bounty hunter dropped the batarian and began pacing. Twenty years. It had been twenty years since he last saw Vido, the slimy bag of puss that took everything away from him. Twenty forsaken years since the bastard put a bullet through Zaeed's skull. This could be the intel Zaeed needed.

Vido was notorious for keeping his location a secret. He hired a public face for the Blue Suns and operated in the shadows away from those that might come after him. He even had a few doubles always ready to give himself an advantage. The man was paranoid and for good reasons.

Massani always kept feelers out for his old partner. He would get pings on Santiago's location from time to time, and, immediately, the hunter would drop everything to bring down that son of a bitch. But he always got away. Zaeed was always one step behind his nemesis.

This time, though, this time it would be different. This time, Santiago messed up. He let his position slip. And nothing was going to stop Zaeed Massani from enacting his revenge on that piece of shit. This time would be the last time he would ever have to hear the name.

He realized that Goran had continued to talk as he dove deeper into that pit of rage that always threatened to boil over whenever he thought of Vido. Zaeed decided he better get the details of the mission before picturing his retribution.

"-formation didn't come cheap. Since you're my best hunter, I won't ask for any credits up front, but I expect a bigger payoff after you complete the mission. How about fifty fifty?"

"I don't give a rat's ass about the money, Goran. I just want Vido's goddamn head."

Goran gave him another batarian smile. "That's why I like you, Massani. You always know exactly what you want."

Author's Note:

Hello all! Sorry I missed my weekly update last week and that I'm a day late this week. My glasses broke, and I couldn't see my screen without putting my nose on the screen. So that pretty much killed all writing as I waited for my replacements.

Of course, that is only half of the reason I was late. The other half is that I was deathly afraid of writing Mordin. He is such a unique character, and his speech cadence is so well defined that I was worried I was going to mess him up. Hopefully, I didn't. If I don't get any angry reviews about it, I'll assume I did well enough.

Zaeed, on the other hand, is pretty simple. He is a simple guy with a simple arch in Mass Effect 2. I did have to delete about five "goddamn's" in there. Just the way the late, great Robin Sachs said "goddamn" made it iconic to the character. I don't remember him swearing as much in the game (of course when you think of a potty mouth, you think Jack), but I added some to fit the gruff character.

Anyways, that is enough from me. Thanks for reading, and please review!