I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW CHARACTERS 'CEPT THE WANDERER AND ALL OTHER CHARACTERS / NAMES BELONG TO BIOWARE
Hey, haven't updated in a couple of months, but i'm still working on it. I got this week off so I might be able to release another by next week. Fingers crossed.
O +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ 0
Demonstration was over. Everyone shuffled out of the room.
The Mercenary wiped the sweat from his brow and gave a sigh of relief with the knowledge that he was alone again. He walked over to the gleaming metal table in the center of the room and began to pack up the pieces of equipment that had been displayed to the powerful and wealthy investors of the Eclipse mercenary group. Content and certain with the assumption that he was no longer under the others' scrutinizing gazes, he started whistling a tune while cleaning up after the demonstration, completely oblivious to the fact that...
One man had stayed.
"... .. Mr. Solis..."
The voice emerged from the silence like a clap of thunder. Startled, the mercenary immediately straightened and unconsciously flared his biotics once he realized he was not alone. Not used to being crept on, few were quiet enough to escape his ears.
He spun around and was surprised to see a tall man in a dark suit, unarmed and still.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you." The man in black said apologetically.
"What? No, " the mercenary breathed a sigh or relief. "no, not at all..."
His heart rate had skyrocketed.
"I was just surprised, I thought I was alone. What can I do for you?"
"I wondering If I can have a word with you. Privately." the man said, motioning toward a security camera that was placed high in the corner of the room.
"A word? Oh, of course. Please call me Dominic, Mr..." he said, extending his hand.
The Wanderer shook his hand. "Farren. Solomon Farren." He said.
"Ah, Farren... A.. European name. Translates... to journey or to wander, am I correct?"
Wow... He was good.
"Why, yes. That's absolutely correct. I'm surprised, not many are familiar with human surnames. Did you grow up on Earth?"
"That I did." The mercenary nodded. "I was raised in the South Americas for most of my life, and pushed through as much education as humanly possible... " The mercenary laughed quietly to himself.
"Shall we talk in my office?"
.
The two of them stepped into Dominic Solis' office. It was largely sparsely furnished, aside from a few trinkets and holos of Earth. An enormous clock adorned one wall and pictures covered another.
"You know, you never told me where you were from." the mercenary said, before sitting in his chair.
"Well," The Wanderer said as he sunk into a leather chair, "I've spent most of my time on Earth. I don't have really have a single home though, I've travelled all over the globe..."
That was not a lie. In the Wanderer's lifetime, out of all the planets he had ever resided in, he had spent the most time on planet Earth. Crash landing at the beginning of human evolution caused him to be stranded there until they developed the technology to raise themselves to the stars. I.E. A VERY long time.
Dominic booted up the holo at his desk and quickly looked up information he had on "Solomon Farren" before they talked business. He had never met him previously, so a quick refresher was needed. Of course unbeknownst to him, all information he had on this man had been painstakingly tweaked and carefully generated by combining fabricated and truthful content.
"Ah, a fellow earthling!" He said, laughing. "It seems like every human I meet these days is from some far off colony somewhere. Finally good to meet someone like me!"
The Wanderer gave a slight nod. He was nowhere near alike to the man behind the desk, but he played along.
Dominic Solis skimmed through information about "Solomon Farren". He was indeed from Earth with no definite place of residence. Appearing out of thin air just a few years ago, he was rumoured to be worth a fortune... A heavy investor of the newer Eclipse group, he was listed as CEO of Cryptox Industries and ... wait. Cryptox industries?
THE Cryptox Industries?
The room suddenly got very warm. The mercenary adjusted his collar and looked at the man seated in front of him. He had already been following performance reports for Cryptox Industries over the last couple of weeks. Dollar signs began appearing in his head.
He swallowed.
"Is something the matter?" The Wanderer said, preoccupied by the sudden lack of speech.
The mercenary cleared his throat. "No, no, everything's fine." He said almost excitedly, "So, what can I help you with today Solomon?"
The Wanderer was sure the man in front of his had been surprised by what information he had seen on him. Kasumi really did live up to her reputation.
"Well Mr. Solis..."
"Please", the merc said, interrupting him, "call me Dominic."
He nodded. "Of course, Dominic. Normally I would send a representative from my company in order to do business, however given tonight's unique circumstances and the status of the host, I have taken the liberty of dealing with you directly."
He paused and could easily see the mercenary wringing his hands excitedly. It seems Mr. Solis liked to keep himself well informed, even if the information he had raked through was mostly bogus. Nevertheless he had already hooked him. Both Kasumi and Legion had helped him inject fantastic stories of his "company's" supposed accomplishments and clients into the extranet in hope that some sort of supposed popularity would arise. The results had been extraordinary. He had actually revived numerous real world requests for contact, including a request for an interviews from the Westerlund news channel and other business feeds. He had no idea how they did what they did, but he was thankful. It may even pave the way for an actual business in the future. If he was still alive that is.
"As you undoubtedly know," The Wanderer said with an air of cool, "Cryptox Industries specializes in the research and development of... unique munitions and equipment. Custom tailored to our clients specifications and preferences, we develop and design personal armaments to those who we believe, at our discretion, possess exceptional qualities to be worthy of wielding one of our weapons. The majority of our clients operate within the special tactics and reconnaissance division of the council, and rarely do we extend and offer our services to others. However, due to special circumstances, I sit here today with an offer."
"And what are you offering?"
"An opportunity. Our offer is that. We are not arming your mercenary group, nor are we supplying equipment to your security forces. We are here to ask YOU, out of our singular interest, if YOU ALONE would be interested in an rare opportunity to have our company design a powerful and completely unrivalled weapon for your hands and YOURS only. We positively do not accept requests from outsiders, as the only way for anyone to have this opportunity would be from a personal and exclusive invitation from us directly. I will not lie to you, our prices are steep. The development of arms with technologies unavailable on the market make it so, and our clients are never disappointed."
The Wanderer brought his hands together.
"The choice ultimately rests in your hands. If you accept, there are conditions. If you do not, then I tear up my proposal and what done is done." The Wanderer paused. "You will be given 30 days to think about your decision. After that, our invitation is withdrawn. No extensions, no excuses."
He leaned back onto his chair, letting the mercenary think about what he had said. The short time period would allow them to stay close to him and gain more information about this man.
Dominic Solis was barely able to contain his excitement. From what information he had gathered, Cryptox industries had already established a highly prestigious and exclusive circle in the underworld, as the only way to get your hands on one of their futuristic weaponry was to receive an invitation directly from them. It was outrageously costly, but their work was nothing short of legendary. Fantastic stories of their unique weaponry had surfaced over the extranet, as those who had been given an invitation and who had the funds, quickly rose in popularity and power.
"And if I would like to see a few examples of your work?..."
"I would show you this." The Wanderer said, reaching into a pocket on his person and withdrawing an OSD.
"Naturally, I have brought with me some of our past works if you wish to see proof of my company's reputation, however the examples on the OSD are encrypted spec prints and not the actual weapons themselves. The originals are either with their rightful owners or have been destroyed. We ensure that no physical copies or replicas exist of a clients product while said client is in possession of said product. That being said, a very gracious client of ours has given me permission to showcase their weapon for your viewing pleasure tonight. It took some amount of persuasion and was not easy. I have brought the weapon with me tonight and is currently being held by your security. Would you like to see it?"
.
The guard carefully placed a shiny metallic locked case on the cold metal table, nodded to the mercenary leader, and left the room leaving just the two of them.
"May I?"
"Certainly."
The Wanderer walked over to the sleek metal case and turned it to face him. Inputting a five digit code onto its surface, the case gave an audible clicking sound before unclasping its binding. The Wanderer opened its lid. Within was the WX-23 Sniper rifle. It was Garrus' weapon, and he had not been happy with their decision. He had asked the Wanderer why they couldn't have borrowed Legions rifle. Shepard had replied that she did not think that ripping Mr. Solis' arm from his socket would prove popular at a formal gathering. He had reluctantly agreed.
The Wanderer picked up the rifle, dissembled it, cleaned each part, applied lubricant, and reassembled the gun with mechanical precision. He then examined the scope that had accompanied the rifle, and made microadjustments with a fine set of screwdrivers.
"It seems our client takes good care of their weapon." The Wanderer said with a smirk. "It also seems that they have been exercising it regularly."
Hoisting it in his hands and handing it to the mercenary, he recounts the weapons features. Exactly the same words he has used when first introducing it to the crew aboard the Normandy.
"This is the WX-23 Sniper rifle. Semi-automatic, 10 rounds a thermal clip. Ultra-low recoil and nearly soundproof. Extremely accurate. It features two modes of firing. Standard and assassination. Standard mode fires a high damage shot that can dispatch pretty much anything in one or two hits. However, the assassination mode is the real gem in this crown..."
He flicks a switch that's close to the trigger and the barrel expands further, an array of small blue coloured lights on the barrel stretch out.
"In assassination mode, the sniper round changes from its standard "heavy" round to a "sliver" round. The round is 1/4 of a millimeter wide at max. Using a special mass accelerator taken from Geth tech... "
He droned on.
.
A spent thermal clip falls from the sniper rifle, its red hot colour briefly singeing the floor as it bounces once and rolls to a stop. Another clip appears in the hand of the mercenary, quickly finding its intended destination and slides home. The trigger is depressed as soon as the satisfying click is heard, and the barrel of the sniper once again gives way to a volley of fire erupting from deep within the mechanisms of the weapon. Death personified exits the weapon, at speeds that would send even the Wanderer to his knees. At last, the gun falls silent. Another clip falls. One Bounce. Roll. Stop.
The barrel of the sniper rifle lies in the hands of Dominic Solis, having just unleashed destruction upon a group of unfortunate training dummies and penetration testing materials. The mercenary runs a hand over its sleek frame and lays it to rest upon its safety switch. As absurd as it sounded, he did not want to stop. He wanted to the continue. Its balance of power and accuracy had no equal, and its recoil equal to a gentle thud against the shoulder. Whoever owned this weapon was a lucky son-of-a-bitch.
The Wanderer smiled proudly. Like a master craftsmen pouring its heart and soul into a masterpiece, the ultimate reward was seeing its masterpiece admired by those who appreciated it.
"So," The Wanderer said with a smirk, "what do you think?".
The mercenary said nothing for a few seconds, his gaze never leaving the rifle.
"I think.. I think this is the greatest piece of technology that has ever touched my hands. I am extremely embarrassed to have made you sit through my private showing, when your company crafts such superior and superbly designed items..."
"Please, there is no need. My company simply provides has a very specific set of tools for a very specific type of people and their work. There is no competition between us on the market as we cater for vastly different groups of people."
"Still Solomon, this is truly amazing. Who owns this wondrous piece of technology?" the mercenary said, handing the weapon over the Wanderer.
"Due to confidentiality agreements I cannot reveal to you the owners name. I'm sure you understand."
The Wanderer disassembled it, and placed the gun back in its case. He then sealed it and had it sent back to security.
"Yes, of course. Now I see why even a hefty price tag matters not when dealing with your company. They are priceless." The mercenary rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In regards to the other examples you said you had..."
The Wanderer held up the OSD.
"Lets go back to my office." said the mercenary.
.
The Wanderer plugged in the OSD and transferred the contents to the holo. The ambient lights in the room dimmed and then exploded in a display of brilliant colours. Several files opened up. The seven pieces of equipment he had designed for Shepards' team appeared one by one.
Cracking his knuckles, the Wanderer began to list off each piece of equipment and the accompanying specifications and abilities of each weapon by memory.
"the WX-32... features higher damage against armor and shields.. bolt-action..."
"This is the WX-99 Heavy Shotgun... packets of ammunition instead of heat sinks..."
"the WX-200... heavy-weapon ... rotating forward barrel to ensure dissipation of heat..."
Dominic was beside himself as the Wanderer presented each piece of equipment. In his semi-delirious state, he was barely able to comprehend how the man in front of him was able to achieve such technological feats, as the damage ratios and performance specs had yet to even spring about the much larger and well known weapons developers and manufacturers. It was if he had stumbled upon technology from the far future... or the far past.
The Wanderer's hand fell to the surface of the table in front of him and brushed his fingers over the controls on its transparent surface. The weapon on display melted into a multicoloured light and then switched to the last holo.
That's when he noticed the change.
He could instantly tell the mercenary was on edge. The mercenary's eyes had changed from excited and calm, to a look of surprise and then animosity. The Wanderer narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to decipher the look that played across the mercenaries features. It was clear he had seen it before. The reaction from the recondition was of utter disdain. He decided to continue with his presentation and then gauge the humans' response.
"This..."
"I know what this is." The mercenary said interrupting him dryly, bringing his arms to the table in front of him. "Dubbed the 'Mass Effect Hammer', The head of the hammer houses a specialized mass effect generator that emits a anti-gravity pulse when it hits something. The pulse spreads outward from a kinetically activated mechanism, distorting the surrounding space with the mass effect fields. The weapon is both dangerously fatal and effective at close quarters. It is a super melee weapon, capable of ripping apart room full of my best men."
The Wanderer was at a loss of words although he suspected as much. No doubt they would have missed a camera somewhere, and the condition of the dead mercenaries they left behind would have told much.
"I also know who owns this particular piece of technology." His voice was dripping with poison.
He sat and booted up his console. Various images appeared on screen before disappearing altogether, images of the Normandy and its crew members, before one image filled the entire display. It was an image captured from a video camera placed high on a wall in a compound. In the center was a familiar looking human spectre in all her glory, hammer in hand, its surface recently splattered with blood. The remains of what appeared to be a mercenary bearing the Eclipse logo lay at her feet.
"Commander Shepard."
He stared at the image as if it was the source of all evil in the galaxy. "Isn't that right Solomon?"
The Wanderer neither spoke nor nodded to acknowledge his question. He was thinking.
He was not preoccupied with the mercenaries reaction, as he had expected it and it only proved that this headhunt for Shepard came from the top of command. What preoccupied him was the image on the screen the mercenary had displayed. It was not Shepard standing triumphantly atop the body of her defeated adversary, nor was it Urdnot Grunt standing behind her who could have only been described as overjoyed from the thrill of the fight. No. It was the lone figure at the other end of the photo, the one crouched atop a metal shipping crate seemingly surveying the field in front of them. The form was blurry through magnification although its humanoid frame could easily be identified. The lone figure was covered in black armor.
He was looking at himself.
His first instinct told him to kill the man in front of him and pump enough lead into the computer systems to bring down a small spacecraft. Immediately deciding against this decision he reminded himself that times were different and although he had shown up in a photograph, the man in front of him did not connect his present self with armor clad figure from the image. The balance of power still rested in his hands.
"So it seems." He said, smirking. "But tell me Dominic, how you have come to know all this. Most of our products are not public knowledge; and if you don't mind me noticing, you seem to harbour a morbid fascination with Commander Shepard. A grudge perhaps?"
The mercenary's eyes narrowed. "What does it matter to you Solomon? Why should some minor research on a famous spectre seem suspicious?"
The Wanderer kept his composure.
"It doesn't. I was simply curious as to how you knew so much about that weapon. Nothing more, nothing less. And as for asking about Commander Shepard, I simply noticed you reacted negatively to the mention of her. That was it. I apologize if I enticed any anger."
That seemed to calm him down. He sighed and scratched his forehead.
"No, no, I should be the one apologizing, I shouldn't have acted up." He closed the holo. "If you must know, the famous Commander was a bit of a nuisance for us in the past; particularly when she came to be involved in some of Eclipse's .." He cleared his throat. " .. more questionable activities."
"It looks like she won't be a problem any longer."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Well, seeing how the Eclipse group is moving toward more legal ventures."
"Oh, yes, of course." He said sheepishly.
He motioned for the Wanderer to sit.
"Well Solomon, You've proved yourself a persuasive businessman. I've made my decision. I wish to accept your proposal."
The Wanderer smiled. He had sold a man something that did not exist. Then again, nothing had proved otherwise.
"Excellent! Unfortunately I have none of the formal paperwork required to set up our agreement with me tonight, but I will get in touch with you as soon as humanly possible." They both laughed. "But yes, you will be contacted within twenty-four hours. Not long from now you will the proud owner of one unique and custom-tailored weapon that will go unmatched for years to come."
Dominic nodded. "As much as I sound like a child right now, I can barely contain my excitement!"
Pausing for a moment to get up from his chair, the man walks to a desk on the far side of the office and returns with a red wooden box. Carefully opening its lid, the inside was revealed to be filled with a selection of fine smokables.
"In honor of our partnership, could I interest you in a cigar? Hand rolled from Earth."
A cigar? The last time he had a cigar was ages ago. Not only were cigars normally difficult to come-across on the multi-specie market, but to find ones from an original crop from Earth were even rarer. He took one.
Dominic removed one for himself and carefully closed the box.
"If you can guess what part of the world it came from, I'll give you another. So far no one has been able to guess the correct answer. It seems its class seems to be dying out."
The Wanderer ran the thick cigar under his nose to inhale its unique fragrance. Indeed from Earth, its rich aroma seemed to overpower his sense of smell.
He smiled. It was a Cuban cigar.