Chapter 21: Target Tracking

Kasumi finished up the hacking job, which turned out to be even simpler than she'd thought it would, and frowned as she considered the data on a public bench. It was all very cryptic and shadowy, of course, code names and everything. Well, she didn't have any particular use for it. She pulled up her omnitool and forwarded the data on to Liara.

She stood up and stretched, ready to wander off to find something to eat. Maybe she could check out that ramen place she'd heard so much about?

Miranda scanned the room she'd arranged to meet this Syrena. There was no immediately obvious trap, but that could mean anything. What gave her a little more confidence was that the security systems she'd tapped into hadn't shown any unusual activity in the two hours prior to the meeting time.

She frowned over the computer monitor, watching the nervous-looking asari who'd done nothing but sit and sip at her drink for the last fifteen minutes. That had to be the contact. Well, there wasn't much else for it. If she was going to learn any more, she had to talk to her. She shut down her omnitool's display and stood up to walk around the corner and face the asari's booth.

"Syrena?"

The asari looked up at her quickly, eyes wide. "Who wants to know?"

Miranda kept her face blank, but inside she was frowning. This was all wrong. She wasn't nervous, she was outright terrified. Terrified people didn't hire assassins, angry people did. And terrified people didn't agree to meet with others regarding their hiring of an assassin. That was illegal even on Illium, after all. So . . . who, or what, was she? She was a complete unknown.

Think. She's faking it, or she's not. If she is, then she'll know if I'm faking it, and know that I know that she's faking it. If she doesn't, then it should make her underestimate me.

"My name is Elissa," she said, injecting a nervous flutter into her own voice. "I, um, Liara said you might have information on, on a mutual friend?"

Seryna took a breath, calming down at Miranda's uncertainty. In some ways that was the strangest thing yet—nervous people didn't go looking for assassins, either. And yet . . . either she was the best actress she'd ever met pretending to be the worst, or she was a patsy. No, she knew just how good she was at reading people. This was definitely a front.

The asari nodded. "Yeah, I know who he is. I may have . . . passed some information to him, but I didn't hire him. Why do you want to know?"

Miranda sat back, biting her lip while her mind hummed, churning through possibilities. She was a front, almost certainly for the Shadow Broker if he did, indeed, hire Thane to keep him away from Cerberus. The problem was, she was an obvious plant, clearly not a professional. So, what did it mean? Was she meant to be discovered to convince them going after Thane was a trap, to keep them from interfering? Or was it just the best they could do on short notice? Or was it a message, 'we know you're coming and we don't care?'

"Maybe you could . . . could help me find him?" she asked hopefully.

Syrena, or whatever her real name was, shook her head quickly. "I know where he's going, but I can't get you to him. He's going after Nassana Dantius tonight in her base of operations at the top of the Dantius Towers." She closed her eyes, concentrating on remembering exactly what she was supposed to say, and Miranda broke character for a moment to roll her eyes. Yes it was a giveaway to whatever cameras the Broker certainly had on them, but then, they'd probably seen her scope the building out, which had really told them everything they'd needed to know already. "The penthouse level of tower one, that's where she usually stays."

Miranda blinked. "I . . . I don't understand. If she's just an executive, why would anyone need an assassin as expensive as Th—as our mutual friend?"

Syrena shrugged, foolishly growing more comfortable with each passing moment. "She has protection, a bunch of Eclipse merchs."

Miranda just stared at her, eyes wide.

"Wow, you really are new around here, aren't you? They're like . . . like high-tech killers. They don't much care who they kill, as long as they're paid for it."

"Do you, um, know anything else about Mr. Thane?"

Syrena leaned back comfortably. "Not much. He did say that's he's not doing it for money. Nobody hired him. I wanted to know who I was helping, and he said he was doing this job on his own, that he had to restore the balance of his life. I don't know. Maybe he's crazy. If he takes down Nassana, I don't care why he does it."

Interesting. She'd obviously been told to give the exact target location, but she'd also told her twice that nobody had hired Thane, which meant that had probably been another part of her instructions. It was also clearly a lie, as transparent as the messenger herself. Miranda leaned forward to push a little more.

"I . . . you know, I really appreciate your help, but, um, why? Why are you just helping me like this?"

Syrena hesitated a half-second, caught off-guard before remembering the answer. "You're going after Thane. Nassana's mercenaries will try to stop you. At the least you'll take a little fire, give Thane a clear shot. I didn't hire him to kill Nassana, but I won't shed any tears when she gets what's coming to her."

It was Miranda's turn to hesitate. Why would she assume hesitant, fearful 'Elissa' would personally go after Thane? Had the asari seen through her somehow? No, no clearly that was what she'd been told, another part of her instructions. So, Syrena was a message after all. Well, it seemed there wasn't anything else to learn here.

"Well thank you, Syrena, thank you for your help."

Syrena nodded and Miranda stood and turned to go, before hesitating one more time. She surprised herself with an impulse to turn around and warn Syrena that she was in over her head and to get out while she could. But that was foolish, an unwarranted risk for no reward. She might have been wrong about how good the opposition was, and perhaps they still weren't sure she was more than what she seemed. There was no logical justification for risking her own life or the mission on something as sentimental as a civilian who'd stupidly gotten themselves wrapped up in this world. And yet . . . Shepard would have done it.

Already berating herself for being even stupider than Syrena, she turned back and dropped all pretense. "Syrena, or whoever you really are. I know you don't know who you're working for, but report on our conversation just like you're supposed to then get out while you still can. If you don't, I'd be surprised if you're still alive by the end of the week."

She left a stunned asari behind and walked out of the building shaking her head. It was still stupid but, somehow, she felt better for doing it.

Shepard and Garrus walked casually towards the police station Liara had indicated when an Asari glanced up at her sharply. Shepard kept walking but watched the asari closely out of the corner of her eye, her hand creeping slowly towards her pistol. Garrus didn't see the asari, but did notice Shepard's change in posture, and casually put a little space between them, making his way towards a heavy merchant stand that would offer decent cover.

The asari stood and walked directly over to her. "You're commander Shepard?"

She quirked an eyebrow at her, not willing to confirm or deny that without knowing what else was going on. The asari didn't seem bothered and carried on, the white tattoos on her forehead unruffled and her voice calm and deliberate. "I saw your . . . I guess I would say your aura. I'd recognize you anywhere. I was asked to give you a message if I saw you. It's from a friend you made on Noveria."

Shepard blinked, then muffled a curse. If she was referring to what she thought she was, this was not a conversation she wanted to have out in the open on Illium, where if Liara was to be believed, someone was always listening. She grabbed the asari by the arm and frogmarched her over to a corner of the walkway. Garrus took up station without so much as a word, ensuring their privacy from at least conventional surveillance methods.

"Look, this isn't a great time or place for this, so give me the message, and quickly."

The asari nodded, still unfazed. "As you wish, Commander." And then her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, leaving only the whites. Her voice grew more . . . disjointed, as if unfamiliar with stringing words together. "Shepard. We hide. We . . . burrow. We build. But we know that you seek those that soured the songs of our mothers. When the time comes, our voice will join with yours, and our crescendo will burn the darkness clean. Thank you, Shepard. The rachni will sing again, because of you."

Shepard blanched. "Are you . . . are you possessing her?"

The asari's eyes rolled forward once more, and her voice returned to its calm assuring tone. "Peace, Shepard. The queen does not control my thoughts. That was merely the message I was asked to deliver."

Right. Just a little message, popped off from the biggest bug in the universe. That could make armies of bugs. "Why . . . how did you even find them? She promised me she would be staying far away from the rest of us."

"I encountered her on an uncharted world. I was working as a courier. Pirates ambushed my ship, and I was forced down on an uncharted planet. I was badly injured, alone, and near death. Then they found me. They saved me. More than that, she gave me purpose. They are an amazing people, Shepard. The galaxy owes you a great debt for giving them a second chance."

Shepard sighed. The asari, she seemed . . . not quite enthralled, but certainly in awe. But was that deliberate? "You say the queen gave you a purpose. What do you mean?"

"The queen shared her song with me as I recovered. I saw the Rachni as only an asari could. They are so beautiful, and so vulnerable. They needed someone to purchase things they cannot make themselves. Someone to work within the system. An agent, if you will. I am happy to help. My life as a courier was empty and shallow. Now I'm helping a great race rebuild itself."

Okay, starting to sound creepily like indoctrination. Shepard narrowed her eyes. "You were really comfortable walking away from your old life?"

The asari blinked, cocking her head at Shepard. "You are concerned that the queen is controlling me. I understand, but it doesn't work like that. Our minds were in perfect harmony. I saw their beautiful spirit and their need. If some part of that was suggestion, then it was a side effect of their efforts to save my life. I am happy."

The comment caught Shepard off-guard. Her first choice to describe her mental state was happy? She couldn't think of the last time she'd really considered herself 'happy.' "Well then," she muttered, reaching to change the subject. "You obviously got off world again. Did they give you a ship?"

She shook her head. "No. Countless workers repaired my ship. It runs better now than it did before. They remind me of the keepers on the citadel, in a way, all working together for a singular purpose."

"And the pirates?" asked Shepard, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"They were obliterated, as they should have been. They are not aggressive, but they do what they must."

Right. Well, at least their location was still a secret. Hopefully. "Well, that's just great. Please, don't tell me where they are."

The asari nodded understandingly. "I could not, even if I wished to. I no longer have that information. After I met the queen, that information was . . . removed. It's not painful, but I simply don't remember. I'll remember when I need to, and her cautious is understandable. The galaxy is not ready for the return of the Rachni."

Shepard winced as she said it out loud. "Yeah, you can say that again. I get that she's grateful, and something about promising to help in the future, but was there anything else to her message? Then I'm afraid I'm going to need to get going."

"Yes. She wishes you to understand that the first Rachni war was a mistake. Something soured the voices of her people. In rachni psychology, that would be like . . . mind control, I think. It doesn't really translate. Anyway, she believes you are fighting the ones that did that, and she promises to help."

"Wait, back up. She thinks that the reapers caused the Rachni war?"

"I can't answer that for sure. But she was certain that her ancestors were forced into war against their will. Her people aren't naturally aggressive. If they made war, it was not of their own doing."

Well for not being naturally aggressive, they sure did a good job of faking it. "Well, uh, thanks for the message. Take care of yourself, okay?"

The asari nodded. "Be well, Shepard. You will not see me again."

We can only hope. One galaxy-wide problem at a time, please.

Garrus rejoined her as they set out once more for the police station. "So . . . glad to hear our friends are doing well. I think."

Shepard sighed and rubbed her eyes with her palms. "Yeah, you and me both."

Kasumi hastily swallowed a mouthfull of ramen as her omnitool buzzed with an incoming call. Curious, she stepped away from her plate and backed into an inconspicuous corner to take it.

"Hello?"

"This is Liara. So, you're Shepard's tech expert? I must say, I'm impressed by how quickly, and quietly, you work."

Kasumi blinked. There was something . . . weird in the asari's tone. Speculative. And speculative was bad.

"Now, I know the kind of people that Shepard finds herself surrounded with. They tend to be good . . . very good. Even the best. And I happen to know that Cerberus put out feelers a while back looking for a certain mysterious thief, a technical genius. So . . . Kasumi, I presume?"

Kasumi grimaced, but kept her tone light. "Look, I think you have the wrong person here. I'm just Shep's tech lady, that's all."

"Right. Well, Kasumi, I'm afraid I have a favor to ask. The data you sent has led me in some interesting directions. In return for keeping quiet about your identity, I'd like you to collect some information caches from the Shadow Broker's agents."

Kasumi paused, thinking furiously. "Look, please, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not this person you think I am, and I certainly don't want to go up against the Shadow Broker to keep you from telling people that I'm someone I'm not."

The line was quiet for a second. "Convincing. I'd almost believe it, if I didn't have video of you with Shepard on Bekenstein, where the personal possessions of Kasumi Goto's accomplice were being held."

Kasumi muted the com and swore. She'd wiped that system clean! Then she sighed, gave herself a shake, and got it together. "Tell you what. How about you don't tell the galaxy who I am, and I don't tell Shepard that you just tried to blackmail me."

The line was quiet for a full minute this time. That wasn't good. She was seriously considering breaking with Shepard, in the not-going-back, never-speaking-ever-again kind of way, in order to get what she wanted here. "How about a . . . compromise. I don't reveal you, you don't say anything to Shepard, and I . . . hire you . . . as a side project, to do this for me?"

Well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd done a job mostly so that she was remembered as useful enough not to burn. It hurt every time, and every time it threatened to end her career, but it had always worked out. So far. She glanced back at her cooling ramen, sighed once more, and made sat herself more comfortably on the railing. "Alright. Just what did you have in mind?"

A harassed-looking asari glanced up briefly before looking back down at her cluttered desk. "Can I help you with something?"

Shepard gave her her best smile. "I'm looking for an asari warrior named Samara."

The asari's eyes jerked back up. "Wait, why? Do you have a problem or . . . did she kill someone already?"

Well that got her attention. "Relax, I just need to speak with her."

Officer Dara, if the name plaque on her desk was to be believed, slumped back down on her chair in relief. "Good. Samara's the first Justicar I've seen on Illium. If I'm lucky, things will stay peaceful. Right, talking to her. Uh, she went to the commercial spaceport a few hours ago. If you want to get there, the pedestal on that balcony will summon a cab." Dara looked up with a strained expression. "Just . . . be polite when you meet her. Justicars embody our highest laws, and they usually stay in asari space. She's not used to dealing with aliens."

Shepard leaned onto the side of the desk casually. "Is she really that dangerous?" Of course. Would the Illusive Man give me anyone that wasn't ready to start murdering people at the drop of a hat?

She held up her hands. "No, no, no, of course not. Well, so long as you're obeying the laws. Look, if you follow the laws, you've got nothing to fear. And a Justicar would die without hesitation to protect the innocent. It's just . . . their code orders them to stop lawbreakers, with lethal force in most cases, and everyone skirts the law somehow on Illium. If someone tried to bribe her, she'd be obliged to gun them down as a matter of honor." She shuddered. "I'm hoping to avoid that."

Shepard paused, taking a moment to try to imagine how that would play out. If some ultra-something-or-other nutjob religious group decided to whack the turian ambassador because he wasn't righteous enough . . . Her shudder echoed Dara's. It hardly bore thinking on.

Dara seemed to understand. "Exactly. If she killed a human, do you think the Alliance would understand her actions and accept her authority? You can't even figure out your own religions!"

Shepard quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Uh, no offense. But you get the picture—it's a big diplomatic incident just waiting to happen."

She nodded. "I can certainly see how that would be a problem. So just to be safe, why don't you tell me more about the Justicars so I don't accidentally offend her?" Which was a good enough idea in its own right, but she also wanted some information about the Justicars that didn't come from the Illusive Man. Or, she thought with a mental wince, from Liara.

Dara looked relieved that she was so understanding. "Of course. They're a monastic order. They've given up their families and possessions to follow their code. Most of them are on some lifelong mission, but they'll always stop to deal with any injustice they encounter . . . which can be a problem. In some ways they're a lot like the Spectres, taking personal missions."

"The spectres are authorized by the Council. Who do Justicars represent?"

"What? That's, like . . . I don't know a good human metaphor. They represent their code, our code. It's closer to a religious group than a legal branch. No law-abiding asari would question a Justicar's orders. Nobody becomes a Justicar for personal gain, and they'd die before breaking their oaths."

"Well, I'll be sure to be on my best behavior. Now, how do I get to the spaceport?"

"Head over that way and you can call a cab, right there in the plaza by the statue, see it? That's the fastest way. Good luck!"

Shepard nodded her thanks and walked out casually towards the cab, Garrus in tow. Once they were safely shut in the cabin of the automated taxi she punched in the location, fed a credit chit into the reader, and glanced over at Garrus. "So . . . thoughts?"

Garrus rolled his eyes. "Hmm . . . I've heard of the Justicars, if only by reputation. They're a tough bunch, and they really are as serious about their code as Officer Dara was worried she was. I don't know, Shepard. Trying to convince one to work for Cerberus seems . . . pretty unlikely to succeed." He shrugged. "She might try to kill us just for asking."

"Well, that's just great. I can't wait to see what the Illusive Man has cooked up for this one."