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Geneburn - Comprehend

Citadel

Tayseri Ward

2183

By the time O'Connor was finished with his shopping, he was about 1.3 million credits richer than he was before, a good thing since he was penniless when he arrived. Selling his firearms felt a little odd to him, but he knew that they were getting long in the tooth. At least they'll still be taken good care of, he thought. Besides, after a week or so, I'll be getting updated versions of my old guns, and they'll work well. Vorenus struck me as someone that could be trusted.

With the transaction done, he had decided to sell any nick knacks that he had in his 'pack, as well as his armor. As such, all he was wearing were his clothes, as well as any medical supplies in his pack. Food won't be an issue here. There's plenty of it, a far cry from Tarkov, to be certain. I wonder what they use for medical supplies, though.

Right now, the one thing that he needed to take care of was a translator implant. While the omni-tool Shepard lent him had done admirably, he knew that he wouldn't be wearing it all the time. As such, he needed a translator implant, so that he could understand what other races were saying without having to guess from their facial expressions and tone of voice. Still, I plan on learning the Turian, Salarian and Asari languages at some point, he decided. I think I'll start with Turian first. It's the most difficult, so it's best to get it out of the way first.

As he thought this, he found himself entering Tayseri Ward, where the Clinic was at. Walking inside, he noticed that Dr. Michelle was turned towards a console on the wall, almost as though she was talking to someone. Curious, he decided to get closer and eavesdrop.

From the very start, he knew that Dr. Michelle was distressed, and her tone of voice made that clear. "I need those supplies for my clinic," she pleaded with whomever was calling her. "I can't!"

The other person talking, however, was not only firm, he was menacing. "You can and you will," the person on the other side growled. "Or your story won't stay a secret for long. Don't disappoint me, doctor."

Fucking blackmailers, O'Connor growled inwardly. Those are the worst kind of assholes. They worm their way into a person's confidence, then hold them hostage using that information. Motherfuckers. Standing up fully, he walked towards Michelle.

Apparently, she hadn't seen him coming in, as she jumped slightly. "Oh, it's you again. I didn't see you coming in, Mr…?"

"O'Connor. William O'Connor. What was that all about, by the way?"

"Someone from my past. I can take care of it."

"Really, because you didn't sound like you had the situation in hand. I don't mean to be condescending, doctor, but that's how it sounded to me. I'm a jaded merc, but I do have a conscience. Maybe I can help you with your problem."

"In exchange for?"

"A translator implant. My omni-tool's good, but I don't plan on wearing it all the time. I was wondering if I could have an implant, so that I know what someone's saying without having to make an inferred guess."

"That's very reasonable for you."

"I'm a reasonable man. So, who's trying to fuck you over, and why?"

"I was fired from my previous employer for giving out free medical supplies to clinics like this one. They never filed any charges. They just wanted me to leave without any fuss, but someone must've found out. Now, they're blackmailing me. I have to give them what I want. If the board finds out about my past, I could lose my license. They'll shut my clinic down."

"Fucking bastards," O'Connor growled. "They obviously don't know the importance of this clinic. Tell me who they are, and I'll make sure they never bother you ever again."

"I have to give some of my medical supplies to a merchant in the markets. They expect delivery today," Michelle replied.

"Give me their name, and I'll make sure they leave you alone."

"Deal with him?" Michelle asked nervously. "But, won't they expose my past."

"No," O'Connor replied. "If they do, they'll find out how hard it is to breath when bullets are in their lungs. Before that, though, I'll smooth talk them into not exposing you."

"Very well. I was told to speak with a merchant named Morlan, down in the markets. Oh, and can you try to persuade them before using violence? I don't want my reputation to be soiled any more than it might be."

"I'll do my best not to resort to violence. I'll only do so if they give me no other choice."

"Thank you, O'Connor. If you succeed, I will greatly appreciate this, and give you that translator implant for free."

"Really? Then I've got some incentive to succeed. I'll be back."

Turning around, O'Connor walked outside of the Clinic and looked around, before moving up ahead. Spotting a C-SEC officer, he asked, "Excuse me, sir. Do you know where the Markets are at?"

"First time here?" the officer asked.

"Yes."

"Go through that door to your left back. The market's divided into two levels. Take the stairs down to the lower level if you're heading there."

"Thank you." With that in mind, O'Connor began to move that direction. Moving through the door, he walked past customers that were busy buying all manner of items, from high powered weapons and quality armor, to toiletries, computers, sanitation supplies and other things. Spotting the stairs in question, he walked down to the second level.

It was much the same on the second level, only since it wasn't rush hour yet, it was not packed to the brim. Walking along, he smiled when he spotted a merchant stall that said, 'Morlan's Wares.' Target sighted, he thought as he walked over.

"Hello there," the Salarian smiled as he came over. "Welcome to Morlan's famous shop. You need something?"

"I was looking to buy a high grade rifle, as well as a handgun," O'Connor replied.

"Ah, I know just the thing." A moment later, he pulled out a handgun, as well as a rifle. "Here we are. This is an Avenger V assault rifle, and a Striker VII sidearm. Not as advanced compared to other weapons, but they hit hard for their size, and they're very reliable."

"I see," O'Connor nodded. "How much?"

"600,000 credits for both weapons?"

"Well, I'll be fighting out there, Morland, where the shit can get rough. I'll need as many credits as possible for maintenance and repairs. Don't you think you can shave the price off just a few credits? If so, then I'll have enough to buy spare parts from you."

"Well… that is a good point. 500,000 and not a credit less."

"Deal," O'Connor nodded as he took his new weapons. Since he didn't have a holster yet, he put his new rifle into his backpack, before slipping his new sidearm into his pants pockets. "Also, I had a question to ask."

"Yes?" Morlan beckoned.

After looking around, O'Connor said, "Were you expecting a delivery of medical supplies?"

"Yes," Morlan nodded. "But I was told that the doctor would be bringing them."

"Change of plans."

"A change? But… the doctor… I don't… This is not right, Human."

"I'm speaking on Dr. Michelle's behalf. She's rather busy with medical concerns right now, so I -"

O'Connor was interrupted when a large Krogan walked into the room, eyes narrowed angrily at Morlan. "Shut up, Morlan!" he growled. "I told Banes you'd screw this up!" Spotting O'Connor, he asked, "Who are you? What the hell's going on?"

"I'm here because you're blackmailing an innocent doctor," O'Connor growled, pulling out his new sidearm. "Leave the doctor alone, or you'll be sporting a new nostril in your face."

"Really?" the Krogan remarked. "We can end this if you just bring me those supplies. Otherwise, I'll start telling people about the doctor's little secret."

"You're shutting down a medical clinic. What if someone needs treatment?" Looking at the Krogan, O'Connor insinuated, "What if you need treatment?"

That was more than enough for the Krogan to reconsider his stance. "Hey! Hold on!" he protested. "I'm just the middleman here! This is way more than I bargained for!" Just like that, the Krogan left, a fair pace quicker than when he entered.

Morlan, who'd been ducking behind the cover, stood up moments later. "Thank you, human," he sighed with relief. "It is good to see him humbled so."

"He needed a little trimming down to size," O'Connor nodded. "By the way, who's Banes?"

"I have never met him, human. I only spoke with the one who spoke to the doctor."

"Fair point. They probably kept you in the dark. Still, I'm happy with the purchase that I've made. Sorry about the commotion."

"You're a customer, and a good paying one at that. Plus, you kept a bloodbath from spilling out. I'm more than grateful for that. I hope you do well in your endeavors."

"Same to you." O'Connor nodded, before leaving the markets.

When he got back to the Clinic, Michelle was waiting inside, clearly nervous. "How did it go?" she asked.

"It went well," O'Connor replied. "They won't bother you anymore." Seems as though my bartering and charisma practice in Tarkov is paying off. I knew it would someday.

"Really?" Michelle asked. When O'Connor nodded, a smile spread onto her face. "That's a great relief, O'Connor. Thank you. I'll get to work on that implant right away, and I'll give you a discount should you need any medical supplies."

"Thank you, Michelle. You're a kindly person. Before we get started, what do you know about Banes. The blackmailer mentioned him during our talk."

"Banes? I wonder if he means Armistan Banes? We worked together a long time ago. Last I heard, the Alliance Military was contracting him for some research in the Traverse."

"I see," O'Connor observed. Hhmm, perhaps Captain Anderson, or one of his friends, knows more about Banes. "Thank you for the info, and thank you for your kindness. Too few people have it nowadays."

"I couldn't agree more," Michelle nodded, even as she finished preparations. "Now, would you kindly sit down in this chair. The implantation process shouldn't take too long."

. . .

Around half an hour later, O'Connor was walking into C-SEC Academy, a ghost of a smile on his face. Today went well, he thought as he walked towards the elevator. I got a translator implant, some weapons for me to use while my new ones are being made, and I've gained a good reputation with the good doctor.

Truthfully speaking, O'Connor had been expecting Michelle to be a little more suspicious than she had proven to be. Part of this was because, back at Tarkov, he had to earn a trader's trust in what he called the 'trial phase', where a trader had him do tasks to ensure he was trustworthy. Once that was over, he would gain access to better goods and supplies.

Apparently, it doesn't work the same here. Then again, they aren't in a city that's been walled off by the UN and Russian Federation, with next to no supplies coming in. If that were to happen, things would become much more familiar.

As he thought this through, he spotted Shepard coming down the elevator he had just come from. "Commander," he remarked. "I was just about to board the Normandy. You coming?"

"Not yet," Shepard replied. "I had a Turian ask me to meet him in an office belonging to 'Chellick', whoever that is? Want to come along?"

"I don't see why not," O'Connor agreed. "Besides, I need something interesting to do. Otherwise, I get bored, and I do weird things when I get bored."

"Such as?"

"Singing the Soviet National Anthem."

"I can see why that would be odd. Speaking of which, where's your armor?"

"Sold it to make some cash. I was thinking that investing in your 'hard suits' as you call them, would be a wise investment. I didn't think that Morlan had any reliable vendors, so I was going to go to the requisitions officer here to find better armor."

"Sounds like a plan. We can visit him on the way to where we need to go next." With that, they carried on.

Getting to Chellick's office wasn't that hard. Just about everyone in C-SEC knew about him, as they were quick to direct them to the office in question. Inside, there were a couple server banks, as well as some chairs and terminals. A large, metallic desk was located in the back, with a light on one side and a computer on the other.

Behind it was Detective Chellick, one of the more renowned C-SEC officers on the Citadel. A tall, muscular Turian, his bright green eyes examined everything with the scrutiny and intelligence that only a highly accomplished detective could have. "I'm Detective Chellick," he told Shepard. "Come into my office. I want to discuss this in private." Nodding at that, Shepard walked inside. Once they were inside Chellick cleared his throat and said, "No offense, Commander, but what the hell were you thinking?!"

"I don't follow you," Shepard replied, confused.

"You could've blown Jenna's cover!" Chellick growled angrily.

"Uh, the time traveler is lost here," O'Connor remarked. "What's this all about?"

"Jenna's sister asked us to warn her that she might be in a bad crowd," Shepard replied. "She was working at Chora's Den for C-SEC."

"We were just there to help her," Ashley explained to Chellick.

"I gathered that," Chellick inferred. "It might seem cold, letting her take that risk, but we're keeping a close eye on her."

"Do you really need to risk her life to get the information you want?" Shepard asked.

"This job isn't easy, and it's usually unpleasant. I'll take help wherever I can find it. But, since you're so concerned about her safety, maybe there's a way we can help each other."

"Sounds like you've got your tracks covered," O'Connor observed.

"It's part of the job," Chellick agreed. "Now, are you going to help me or not?"

"You're a smart guy, Chellick," Shepard stated. "Figure out another way."

"I do have several contingencies; she's just my option 'A'. I'll cut her loose, even get her out of Chora's Den, no strings attached. But… that still leaves my case unsolved. I could still use your help."

"I'll help you," Shepard agreed, "but I'll need some details."

"I'm trying to track down an illegal arms producer," Chellick explained. "I just need some of their product. Thanks to Jenna's intel, I've learned that there's a seller here on the Citadel. Meet our man, named Jax, pick up the mods and bring them back here. That'll give me everything I need."

"What makes you so concerned about these mods?"

"We have access to some of the most advanced weaponry there is. It's what gives us our edge. What happens when we lose that edge?"

"I know what you mean," O'Connor added.

"Personal experience?" Chellick asked.

"Yes," O'Connor replied. He didn't elaborate anymore on the subject. It's still too painful to talk about it, even more so to a stranger.

"Then you know what I mean. These mods give criminals an edge we can't afford to let them keep."

"Maybe we can persuade Jax to tell us where these mods come from," Shepard suggested.

"No," Chiellick replied. "You tip off Jax, and all my leads disappear before you can say 'bad bust.'"

"Sensible," O'Connor agreed. "Chellick, mind if I make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"We can have me as the buyer. I'm not fully armored, which would make Jax more comfortable. No one knows who I am, so I can say that I'm a lone merc looking for the edge in terms of weaponry and equipment. That way, Jax doesn't get tipped off. Shepard here, no offense intended, is a little too well known for that."

That seemed to intrigue Chellick, as he made a humming sound and said, "Hhmm, that does seem like a good idea. We'll follow that suggestion. Jax is down in the lower levels of the market. I'll send word through our channels that you're the buyer. Good luck, O'Connor."

"You know who I am?"

"I was one of the people assigned to your case. I have to admit, it was probably the strangest case I've ever handled, but certainly one of the most rewarding. To think that even though you're from the past, or another universe entirely, you're still highly effective in the present day. I think you'll be able to pull this off."

"Then let's get going."

. . .

As it turned out, O'Connor's plan worked out better than anyone could've hoped for. Due to his ambiguity, Jax was oblivious to the fact that he was selling a mod to someone that had come from a different universe, and time, entirely. He fell for me like he was blindfolded, O'Connor snickered as he walked into Chellick's office, weapon mod in hand. He might as well have told me who the manufacturer was.

"Here you go, Chellick," he said to the Turian Detective. "One illegal weapon mod for you to investigate."

"I was told you had something for me," Chellick remarked.

"Keeping tabs on me?"

"Part of the job."

"I see. Well, here you go."

Taking the container with the mod inside, Chellick looked it over. "Excellent, this is everything that I need. Hhhmm… maybe more than I need. Also, it looks like someone opened it. Was that you?"

"Yes. I was curious as to what was inside. Back at Tarkov, I had to examine dozens of items, so that I knew what I was looking for. Old habits took over, I guess."

"I see. No harm done form the looks of it. What did you find out?"

"Looks like it's a modified ammunition block. Given that's how your guns work, it would make sense for someone to mod that. From the looks of it, it contains some kind of neurotoxin that's dangerous when fired. It's safe to handle in this form, according to the manual I found inside."

"I see. That would be cause for concern. Here, O'Connor, take this. I won't need it, and you've earned a reward for your work. I appreciate you and Shepard's help. It shows a lot of integrity; you didn't need to do anything after I let Jenna go."

"My dad always taught me never to leave a job half-finished."

"Former military?"

"US Army, but I joined the Marines. I don't hold it against him, though. He was where he was needed, and I went where I was needed."

"I see. Your father was a good man, from the sounds of things."

"He was," O'Connor agreed, a far away look in his eyes.

Chellick, being respectful, only said, "I see. Now, I need to get this mod into evidence. Thank you again, O'Connor." With that, he left the office, with William leaving shortly after.

It turned out, Shepard had gathered a lot of favors when he returned to where William was waiting at. "You took a while," William remarked. "What kept you?"

"A lot of favors and requests," Shepard explained. "I take it you did the same at Tarkov?"

"Yep. There was a shitton of things to take care of. Now, let's get me some armor. I don't want to have a bullet go through my chest or head."

Finding the C-SEC Requisitions Officer wasn't that hard, as William had been right next to the hallway leading down to the place in question. Spotting them coming in, the officer said, "One second. Looking you up." After a moment, he said, "Commander Shepard. First time on the Citadel, correct?"

"Yes," Shepard replied. "I came here looking for some supplies, as well as armor for my friend here."

"Alright. Let me see what I can do," the officer replied. "I'll open up access to… Whoa, this must be a mistake. System's telling us to offer your select stock. Spectre level access?" There was a moment of visible shock, then he said, "Well, I heard about that, but I didn't know it was you. Sorry, sir."

"Nothing wrong with that," Shepard replied. "I did just get the position after all. Just show me what you've got."

"I'll open up the rare stocks for you, Commander. Enjoy."

With that, Shepard found himself looking at a long list of weapons, armor, mods and equipment, most of which was too expensive for him to purchase. Still, he decided to keep looking. His patience paid off when he spotted something. "What is this?" he asked the Requisitions Officer.

"That," the officer replied, "is the T5-V Battlesuit. It's a prototype armor system that the Alliance is shipping out for field testing. The Alliance sent one to us by accident, but they weren't able to send someone to pick it up. Since you're from the Alliance, I can say that you're here to retrieve it."

Looking at the armor, Shepard found that it looked like N7 Defender armor, only it was much more heavily armored. Most of the armor plating was angular, with only a few curved areas and few areas that didn't have ceramic or titanium plating. The helmet was the most distinctive part, as it had a T-shaped visor that gave greater protection than most helmets, while still providing excellent situational awareness.

"Huh," William remarked. "That armor looks like it came straight out of Star Wars."

"You've seen that film before?" Kaidan asked.

"Who hasn't?" O'Connor remarked. "When I was about to join the Marines, it was one of my favorite films. That wouldn't look out of place on a suit of beskar armor from Mandalore." Turning to the officer, he asked, "What does it offer?"

"It's equipped with heavy armor plating that's lightweight, but extremely strong for it's weight," the officer replied. "It also makes use of prototype force amplifying technologies, and other systems. Beyond that, the specs are classified. I doubt even a Spectre can gain access to it."

"How much does it cost?"

"Normally, more than what you have, but since it was sent here due to an error, I'll have it shipped to the Normandy. Perhaps someone there can make better use of it." After a few moments, he said, "There you go. It's being shipped there now. Anything else?"

"No," Shepard replied. "I'll come back once I have more funds."

"Sounds like a plan. Have a pleasant day."

. . .

As they left, Shepard had to admit, finding that armor here was highly unusual. Maybe we got lucky, he thought as the boarded the elevator that would take them to the Normandy. Still, I'll take any good luck where I can find it. We'll have to teach O'Connor how to put on a hard suit correctly, though given that he's a quick study, I'm not worried.

With that, the elevator they were in quickly came to a stop once it reached it's destination. Coming out of the elevator, he was surprised to see Anderson and Udina standing outside, with the two men conversing with each other. As he approached, Udina turned to him and said, "I've got big news for you, Shepard. Anderson's stepping down as Commanding Officer of the Normandy. The ship is yours now."

"She's quick and quiet, and you know the crew," Anderson added. "Perfect ship for a Spectre. Treat her well, Commander."

"I'll take good care of her, sir," Shepard replied. Inwardly, he was flummoxed. Why's he stepping down as the CO? I don't understand.

"I know you will, Commander," Anderson nodded.

"I want the truth. Why are you stepping down, sir?"

"You needed your own ship," Anderson explained. "A Spectre can't answer to anyone but the Council. That and it's time for me to step down."

"Come clean with me, Captain. You owe me that much."

"I was in your shoes twenty years ago, Shepard. They were considering me for the Spectres."

"Why didn't you ever mention this?

"What was I supposed to say? 'I could've been a Spectre, but I blew it?' I failed, Commander. It's not something I'm proud of. Ask me later and I'll tell you the whole story. For now, all you need to know is that I was sent on a mission with Saren, and he made sure the Council rejected me. I had my shot. It came and went. Now you have a chance to make up for my mistakes."

"Cold hearted bastard," O'Connor growled.

"I agree on that," Anderson nodded.

"I won't let you down, sir," Shepard replied. "I'll find the bastard and make sure he never commits any atrocities again."

"Saren's gone. Don't even try to look for him. But we know what he's after: the Conduit. He's got his Geth scouring the Traverse, looking for clues."

"We had reports of Geth in the Feros system shortly before our colony dropped out of contact," Udina added. "And we've had reports of sightings on Noveria."

"Find out what Saren was after on Feros and Noveria," Anderson told Shepard. "Maybe you can figure out where the Conduit is before he does."

"The Reapers are the real threat," Shepard decided.

"I'm with the Council on this one, Shepard," Udina remarked. "I'm not sure that they even exist."

"But if they do exist," Anderson added, "the Conduit's the key to bringing them back. Stop Saren from getting the Conduit, and we stop the Reapers from returning."

"I'll stop him," Shepard nodded.

"We have one more lead," Udina added. "Matriarch Benezia, the other voice in the recording? She has a daughter, a scientist that specializes in the Protheans. We don't know if she's involved, but it might be a good idea to try and find her. See what she knows. Her name's Liara. Dr. Liara T'Soni. We have reports that she was exploring an archaeological dig on one of the uncharted worlds in the Artemis Tau cluster."

"Might be a good idea to find her," Shepard agreed, "but the colonists on Feros might still be alive."

"Agreed," O'Connor nodded, "but I think getting to Liara first is the wiser idea. The colonists probably have defenses that can hold out until we get there. Liara, however, might not have the same luxury."

"You don't answer to us anymore," Anderson told Shepard. "You're a Spectre now. You make that call."

"But your actions still reflect on Humanity as a whole," Udina reminded him. "If you make a mess, I get stuck cleaning it up."

"I'll try not to make life too hard on you," Shepard reassured the aging ambassador.

"Glad to hear it, Commander. You were a human long before you were a Spectre: don't forget that. I have a meeting to get to. Captain Anderson can answer any questions that you have." With that, Udina left.

"Y'all can get inside," Shepard told the others. "I'll be out here for a little while longer."

I can agree with that, O'Connor thought as he moved to head inside. Prapor, I wonder what you would've made of all of this.