The Tracker of Goliath
Chapter 12
"Theron."
"Yes, Mrs. T'Loak?"
"We've almost got him. One more stop and I should have all the information I need."
"Did you acquire favorable answers from Declan?"
The Asari let out and audible sigh. "No. Just a more detailed version of what he was saying back at C-Sec. Some of it may give us some background on his fucking boss, but it won't help us stop him."
"Do you require assistance?"
"I don't need anything, I'd just like an extra hand collecting things. What's his face? The Drell, is still with the Investigators in Shitward, you want in?"
"I will help. ETA to your headquarters, twenty minutes."
"Make it fifteen, this shouldn't' take any longer than it needs to," Aria's last words before hanging up.
Theron began to walk out of the Players Nightclub, an Asari dancer in front of him seemed to emote a scrutinizing look. He did not understand. She received much attention and many tips from all organics around her, he couldn't see why just standing and watching seemed to annoy her.
Exiting the establishment, the fresh artificial air hit him like a brick, replacing all of his senses previously occupied by body odor, liquor, and damaging noise.
Garrus talked about his fondness for nonsense, and Theron ignored his studies to explore this phenomenon. Entering a club, a social place built for entertainment and pleasure, what he observed were people dulling their mind and being around emotions as manufactured as the station's air.
The human woman who took him to a VIP private room and danced for him, Jade, didn't seem to enjoy her work. His reluctant payment for her services didn't make him feel anything that Garrus described with Shepard, so why were people here? This constructed atmosphere of visceral behavior did not present any of its participants with long term gain.
This world anew to Theron did not attempt to confine to his reasoning, neither did no one in it. Not Jade, not the Asari, not anybody. They did not put on a show of enjoyment for him, yet they did for others who bought into their fictitious affection.
Entering a cab and setting the destination, Theron wondered why so many people in there appear to be enjoying themselves. What was it about draining themselves of cohesive thought and relishing in sexually prolific dancers that improved their lives?
Theron wished he had remained in his quarters and researched more from afar. Why did Garrus' talk affect him this way? Everything the Executor said to him, Theron had never experienced. Perhaps his employer had been psychologically troubled, and Theron's way of thinking hadn't been challenged with credibility.
Perhaps he was still correct and Garrus was wrong.
Perhaps.
"-actic news has obtained leaked documents of Executor Vakarian's personal choices of music," said the news personality.
Theron didn't even notice the car's radio until his mind searched for anything other than the topic at hand.
"His iconic visor features an audio link that allows its user to play music. Our leader of Citadel Security has even gone as far as listening to music during combat, irresponsibly putting all of his teammates at risk."
Theron didn't know the news reporter's name, but he didn't need to. Regardless of his location in the galaxy, the news never changed; the one thing that populates the Citadel and Terminus systems, sensationalized broadcasts.
Garrus' list of "irresponsible" music flashed on the Cab's screen.
Most Played
Rancor – Right Where It Belongs (Cover)
The Quarian Barbarians – Mine
Expel 10 – Hurt Me Deeper
Zure – Love Labour Lost
Kinetic – Bottom of the Bottle
"Joining me now is humanities most accomplished psychologist, Darren Mark, thank you for being here."
I don't believe he's the most accomplished.
"I'm grateful to be here," replied Darren.
I don't believe he is grateful to be there.
"Thanks to this list of quite frankly, depressing music, what can we observe from this?"
"Well, to be fair here, a person's musical taste doesn't say anything about their personality. Many civilized people who never hurt a fly, go home and listen to Krogan war anthems. Despite that, I do think that it's safe to say Mr. Vakarian is suffering from a traumatic form of depression."
"That sounds awful. Now, why would he do this to himself?"
"Well, music is often treated as something that is harmless, but if it is put in a certain context, the effects can often be very serious."
"Such as?"
"Well, the depression can begin on its own before manifesting in other ways. The Executor has received lots of hostility by the media whirlwind responding to his actions and decisions as the head of C-Sec."
"But that is due to his disrespect and failure of people on the Citadel."
"Well, he may experience more stress than usual due to the amount of stories hostile towards him, but it is this music playlist that is responsible for his state of depression."
"Should he be allowed to command C-Sec in this state of mind?"
"Well, I don-"
Theron switched off the car radio, his eye twitched every time Darren began a sentence with that single word.
Well.
Garrus was thankful for the world's lack of logic, the same kind that is framing him in the media as an incompetent, spineless failure.
Theron did not understand, he could not. Upon landing at Aria's headquartes, he would not.
Silence awaited him, parked cars gathered dust and his footsteps echoed off the walls. Analyzing the situation, Theron's emotional side felt tempted to step back into the Cab. The existence of an emotional side concerned him, this assignment ate at him, piece by piece.
Moving with caution, he stepped toward what appeared to be the front entrance. The building he stood by was drab, bleak, and abandoned. The perfect sanctuary for someone such as Aria from the grimy rock of Omega.
The door pinged as it detected his presence, silently opening, what awaited Theron altered his mind with an uncanny rush of horror.
Orange, blue, and red blood dripped from the ceilings, staining a floor drenched in mutilated corpses. The lights were coloured according to the blood coated over them.
Fumes of fresh skin cut open, releasing life cells as the vessels were brutally cut to pieces.
One turian laid on the floor with a single blade penetrating his left eye, the weapon's blade pierced to the floor through his head.
Regurgitating in his throat, Theron choked out an agonizing breath.
Making the first step inside, he placed his right foot on the one stretch of flooring absent of color. The tip of his boot was stained red as it overwhelmed the teeny radius. Theron gasped as his left foot marked a dead man's squashed forehead.
Steading himself on top of a dead Krogan's back, he glanced to his left, seeing a vacant room, with the exception of a deceased suspect by the name of Declan. The Ion converted Turian, builder turned murder, guilty brother made dead before the Tracker's eyes. Declan's corpse may not have appeared to be cut like everyone else in this building, but he sure seemed vacant.
Sidearm equipped in his right palm, Theron continued afoot.
Left arm lit up at the twitch of a finger, he called his employer.
"Theron," greeted the Executor. "Any news?"
"Mr. Vakarian. Everyone at Aria's headquarters is dead."
"…What?" exclaimed Garrus.
"Everyone is dead and if you are going to send investigators, I suggest giving them substantial backup."
Silence fell as Garrus processed Theron's information, the Tracker continued down the halls, leaving blooded footprints.
"Where are you?" asked Garrus.
"I am currently in the headquarters."
"Are you insane? Get out of there, Theron. I am ordering you."
"Aria is a productive member of our team and I have not detected her amongst these victims, I will evacuate once I have sighted her."
"Show me your video feed."
Theron agreed to the Executor's reasonable request and held up his left arm facing forwards, the camera's flashlight beamed off of the decaying corpses.
"By the… Theron, get back to C-Sec, now."
The Tracker closed his video feed. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Executor."
"You want to be Goliath's next target, your wish. Find her."
Displeased by his employee's refusal to listen, Garrus disconnected the call and immediately went to getting backup ready to secure the building and grab as much evidence as possible.
Theron found an emergency staircase door and opened it. Surprisingly empty, the Tracker ascended, observing each floor to access the probability of finding Aria. He'd quietly contact her comms channel every other floor, but wasn't receiving anything. Either she wasn't alive, or she ignored him, neither situation comforted him.
Levels two and three were just as bloody as the ground floor, but between sections 4-10, lobbies and rooms were vacant.
Staining every third step with bloody prints, he arrived to the top, adrenaline surging through his veins to override the fear. Opening the door, he stepped outside and felt the familiar open air.
Engines activated, Theron's feet trembled before jumping to his right. One skycar lifted off the ground, ready to make its escape.
Theron raised his weapon, quickly moving to the vehicles immediate left.
"Stop right there!" he shouted, unconvincing in his vocal performance that he's someone with authority.
Synthetics didn't need to be shouted out and as a result, Theron's silence was typical, and didn't reveal his dubious attempt at sounding authoritative.
The vehicle's door opened to reveal a purpled skinned Asari with familiar facial markings and an alluring, but absolute outfit.
"About fucking time you showed up!"
Gesturing for him to get in the passenger seat, Theron did. Before the doors fully closed, Aria's right foot stomped on the throttle, gravity forcing Theron's dome into the headrest.
"Where are we going?" asked Theron, collecting his thoughts.
"Northern Zakera."
"Goliath's base of operations?"
She shook her head. "There's a damaged building not far from there. The top floor's premium apartment used to belong to Razor."
"Citadel's previous leader of organized crime. Why are we going there?"
"I've dealt with him on Omega years ago. Real piece of shit, but he always had an endless array of backup plans and secrets. This premium suite of his wasn't ordered in his name, C-Sec never found the identity he used and therefore didn't know of the apartment's existence."
"I do not understand how this is related to Goliath."
She sighed. "Razor was a psychopath, but a very smart one and a top level engineer. It's how he was able to get as far as he did, not being able to takeover other gangs with brute force or fear, he took them down with technology. I don't think it's a coincidence that Goliath arrived just after Razor's death."
Aria's observation lit a spark in the depths of Theron's mind.
"How are you one-hundred-percent sure they are connected?"
"I'm not," she replied. "I've had this suspicion for a long time, I figure that Razor's hidden apartment should be the place to find out if I'm right."
"Had Declan assisted you in this suspicion?"
"No. All he gave was information about the main base, none of it very useful."
Theron didn't respond, annoying Aria to no end.
"You were right," she said.
Theron remained silent. The Tracker didn't need Aria's confirmation, he knew what was going to happen with Declan.
"Did you partake in extreme measures with Declan?" he asked. "You wanted what he kept from us."
"It may surprise you, but I'm not a sadist," she scoffed, provoked by his assumption of her character. "Torture doesn't work, it's only reserved for those that enjoy it. I'm here on a job, not a holiday."
Surprised by her tempered anger at his question, Theron felt something, he very rarely felt.
"Sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear it, but she did hear it.
She snorted.
"I don't need your apology, Mr. Know-it-all. Just remember, no one's always right."
Deathly quiet, Theron took her words in, contemplating what he saw in that building, not knowing why he did.
"What happened?" he asked.
Lack of specifics weren't required. Aria's hands angrily clutched the wheel.
"I spent all my time talking to Declan, getting nowhere. Finally the researchers I sent digging for Intel on Razor picked something up, information C-Sec never had. That's when the first man died, and everyone else who followed…"
Making Theron jump in his seat, she slammed her fight fist on the dashboard. The Tracker sighted biotic power in her punch, cracking the dashboard.
"When I get my hands on that heap of shit, I will rip it to fucking shreds."
Theron's Omni-Tool lit up with a call from Garrus, he briefly looked at Aria as she set the vehicle to auto-pilot. Theron answered the video call, seeing Garrus' face fade into view.
"Aria," he said. "Never thought I'd be glad to see you alive."
"Thanks for the fucking support, Vakarian."
"What the hell happened?"
Theron leaned further into his chair, as the conversation didn't seem to revolve around him once Aria slid into frame.
"My entire team got wiped out, that's what happened. So you better hope that I and your expert here find something at Razor's home."
"Razors home? What does that scumbag have to do with this?"
"'That scumbag' is someone who always had a scheme. I believe that Razor is connected to Goliath and my research team found information on a hideout of his that you never got."
Garrus was anything but pleased.
"You mean to tell me that your team from Omega just got blitzed, and now you're going to the secret home of someone else that I took care of?" he exclaimed.
"I'm not one of your bitches, Vakarian, I'm going."
"No, you will come back to C-Sec, now."
"Why the fuck would I do that?"
"Because Kolyat and his team of investigators are dead."
Theron was silent, but his active mind persisted. Now, he did feel anything but a cold beating heart, sinking.
"I sent someone to investigate after I didn't hear from them. And they were all killed in the exact same manner as your team."
"That doesn't change things," affirmed Aria. "We are still going to Razor's home."
"Don't you understand, Aria? He's coming for anyone opposing him, I can't guarantee your safety or Theron's!"
"Then worry about yourself. I never asked for your protection."
"Come back to C-Sec!"
Aria looked at Theron. "Disconnect the fucking call."
"Theron, stay on the line! Get back to C-Sec! If Aria wants to put herself in danger of being killed, that's her choice. But I can't have two more fighters dying on me!"
Theron stared at Garrus in the pixelated frame. Glancing back and forth between Aria and his employer, he thought back to when he took this job. He wanted to explore the meaning behind the meaningless. Now, he wasn't sure that he would live to find out.
"I'm going with her, Executor."
Vakarian gawked at Theron. Their conversation and Theron's constant strive to logically understanding the world, only to take this course of action. The Executor closed his eyes and sighed.
"You think this is for the best, Theron?" he said, eyes opened.
"I'm not sure, Executor."
Garrus hated it, but accepted the situation, knowing he would be unable to change both their minds.
"Watch your backs, report back the instant you're done."
Theron nodded. "Roger that."
The call disconnected.
"Thank you," said Aria.
"You're welcome," he replied.