Vorlak's story

-53 years ago-

"With desperate pleading: Please, you cannot do this to us."

The plea fell on deaf ears. In fact, the Elder didn't even break his stride as he marched on through the Atacarna plains. Evidently, the Great Westerly Migration would wait for nothing. Even if three of its members were about to be left behind.

The migration was an annual event for the Elcor of Dekunna. Even now, more than three thousand years since their ancestors had surpassed the need to travel between grazing lands, the tradition was still observed by a surprising number of the local inhabitants. Of course, technology and progress had eroded the time-honored beliefs. There were many migrations now, most of them smaller and not along the proper migration routes at all (some of them not even on the homeworld!), that were intended to adhere to the "spirit" of the migration.

But here at least was the true observance, the "main event" as the reporters from the Citadel media so crudely chose to put it. Twenty thousand Elcor, 5,600 miles, almost half a year to complete the entire journey from start to finish. Not that everyone did of course. Trailing a respectful distance behind the main heard, a small flotilla of ships made daily pick-ups and drop-offs, allowing migrants to come and go as they pleased.

This was much to the annoyance of Elder Dromon, Alera knew. Not only did it encourage dipping in and out of the migration (a flippancy he detested) but it undermined the whole point of the Migration in his view. The joint challenge faced together by the unity of the heard, taking turns to drag the necessary supplies along with them in huge chariots constructed for the purpose, was the whole point of the exercise. To him, the migration was more than the observance of a defunct tradition. It was a mobile city, driven by the social values required to make the journey possible.

It was a view Alera herself very much shared, not that she would ever be so outspoken with them. That was the job of Elder Domon, a man she admired in more ways than she could explain in a short conversation. He was the symbol of their people, unchanged by time and so-called "fashionable trends", stoic and given to none of the shady political maneuvering she so despaired of in the leaders of the other council races. Or at least so she had believed.

Hurriedly she raced after him as he was already making up some distance from her on the march.

"With growing desperation: Where are me and my family meant to go if you exile us from Council space?"

Still, she received no answer which was odd in itself. Usually, Dromon would have the last word on everything even if he had to hold up the entire migration to stand around debating.

'Coward,' she thought to herself before putting on a burst of speed to draw level with him that made her knees ache in the high gravity environment.

"With wounded pride and anger: Why don't you exile Doonrar? He is to blame for this whole mess!"

"Firmly: Doonrar is too important to the future of our people. His support in maintaining the traditions of our people has been invaluable."

'Money. It always comes down to money in the end,' Alera thought with anger. In truth Dromon cared little for credits or the luxuries they bought, preferring to rough it on the grassy slopes of Dekunna. But even he needed funding to help keep his migrations running each year. As long as Doonrar was supplying the money he needed, so that he could strut around at the heard of the heard each year, the Elder would never send Doonrar away.

"With forlorn hope: Surely there is an alternative to exile. Anything else, please."

"With Finality: This mess has set back our chances of gaining a seat on the council by centuries. Even our species demands that someone must pay for such a severe setback. Plaintively: I'm sorry it has to be this way. I always admired your dedication to our ways."

"With urgent concern: But my son hasn't even been born yet, please don't let him grow up never knowing the safety of the herd or seeing the great grass plains of his home."

The Elder paused

"Reluctantly: Very well, I will allow him to return to us once he comes of age. Until then he must remain in exile with you."

It was a small mercy but Alera had no choice but to accept it. Trying to push the point further would achieve nothing other than denying her unborn son the opportunity she had just been offered. She left the migration with her herdmate Denara later that day. A shuttle would transfer them to the Traversal, an Elcor troop transport that had been requisitioned for the purpose. From there they would be taken to the border of the Terminus Systems, ready to try and build a new life in the space that lay beyond.

-25years later-

Aria sighed wearily as she pulled the sheet upwards, over the head of the aging Turian lying stiff and cold on the decking, the simple act signifying finality.

He had been a smarter one than most, that was for sure. Intelligent, ruthless, cunning, and even seductively charismatic when he chose to be. His gang had never been the largest or the strongest on Omega but Silas' pure class had marked him out from the usual ragtag band of crime lords that served as Omega's ruling class. His charm had even let him follow her back to her apartment once or twice in his younger days until he went and married that young friend of his that he was always running around with from the beginning. She'd suggested it might be welcome once, not long after the wedding but he'd politely declined, she could respect that.

In short, she would miss him, despite the evidence to the contrary; six rounds of shot still embedded in his midriff where her shots had struck true. Well, she'd had no choice in the matter, he'd gotten too ambitious, had tried to take over her position even. Oh, he'd cloaked it in words about his noble intentions. He wanted to lead Omega into a brighter future for his children, he claimed. Far too sentimental by half, that was his trouble. Though was she much better right now? Hovering over a slain enemy like she was mourning his loss?

"Get this thing out of here, I don't want his corpse stinking up the club," she snapped at her subordinates. She always found anger came to her aid in moments like this. But rage alone wasn't sufficient to rule Omega. This had been a setback and a disappointment to be sure, exposing a weakness in her operation. All the money, threats and pleasurable company she could offer hadn't been enough to keep Silas in line forever. How could she hope to maintain her rule over Omega forever if she couldn't maintain the support of her lieutenants?

As usual her rage was now beginning to cool as she started to strategize for the long term. Violence had played its part (always her first port of call when facing a new problem) but now a new scheme was starting to take shape in her mind. And so it was that two days later she found herself walking into the apartment of three of her more well-known Elcor residents, Alera, Denara, and their young son Vorlak.

It was a humble little apartment in one of the quieter districts of the station that Aria rarely had to bother visiting. The Blue Suns held the area for some distance around which aside from the occasional raid from the Talons or the Eclipse kept things relatively stable. Well, stable for Omega at any rate. Alera's place was small (for an Elcor residence) as she had noted but surprisingly well maintained, the Elcor's pride in their home far outstripping that which she had come to expect from most of the station's inhabitants. A good sign, it was after all part of the reason she had chosen to come here.

They were already assembled in the living area by the time she walked through the threshold. She smiled approvingly, noting that her subordinates had already warned them what to expect. No smiles were given in return, not even from Alera with whom she already had a passing familiarity. No doubt they were wondering what they had done to merit such a visit.

"Nice place," she commented casually as she approached. The son was hidden at the back behind his parents but that was unsurprising, at twenty he was still considered a child among his species. Still, she briefly caught his gaze through a brief gap between his parents. Oddly it struck her as more insolent than shy.

"I'm sure you'll be sorry to leave."

"Respectfully: Welcome to our home Aria. We did not know you had heard that we were leaving."

"It came to my attention when I caught wind of some diplomatic communiques flying back and forth in the Terminus. Illium may not be in Citadel space but apparently, they're still aligned on some policies. Specifically, those pertaining to political exiles."

"With indignation: Nos Astra is meant to be a free port, how can they deny us access? Curiously: Why have we not heard anything about this before?"

"As I understand it they're still debating the issue for the time being though I gather the prevailing wind isn't in your favour. You could try to challenge the city council's decision with legal proceedings of course but we both know Illium's courts are so corrupt it will likely take years for them to reach a decision. Not to mention how badly it would drain the funds given to you by your few remaining friends in Citadel space."

"With resignation: How did you find out about that money Aria? It was meant to be a private fund to help us to get-"

The silence that reigned in the moments after the Elcor stopped speaking were deafening. Denara physically backed up, realizing he may have inadvertently crossed the line into speaking his mind.

"I believe you were going to say 'to help you get out of Omega'? I understand of course. Despite the myriad of opportunities that my station represents I can see why it might not be your first choice for raising the children."

She paused to smile down at the kid only to find herself slightly taken aback at the response. It shouldn't be possible for an Elcor to project that much hostility. She pushed the thought aside, the kid was an irrelevance here.

"What if I were to suggest an alternative option?"

"Wearily: We have looked at other colonies in the Terminus Aria. None of them seem safe enough to raise our child."

"Oh out there? Not even I'm cruel enough to suggest that as an alternative. Omega's not ideal but the rest of the Terminus? It's like-"

Aria paused for a moment trying to recall that new phrase she had taken a liking to recently. Something the newly arrived human race liked to say.

"...the wild west," she completed finally. Humans though, she thought to herself briefly, were a species she was going to have to keep an eye on. It had been less than a year since they had first been invited to set foot on the Citadel, joining the galactic community, and already some of them had found their way here. Clearly, they had enough of a mercantile nature to understand that here was where the money was to be made. Which made them interesting of course but also potentially dangerous.

"Even in the so-called safer areas, you're never more than one warlord attack from having your whole life turned upside down. No, I was thinking that the time has come to address some of the shortcomings here on Omega."

"Cautiously: What are you saying Aria?"

"What I'm saying is that with the right investment and dedication we can create an area of the station that really is suitable for... Well, your charming little ones. Somewhere where you, some of my top lieutenants and other select, trustworthy clientele can raise their children in relative security."

"With resigned acceptance: Very well Aria, we will do as you ask."

"Angrily: You can't be serious dad! That money was supposed to get us off of this rock and now you're letting her fleece us!"

"Chastising rebuke: Don't be so rude to our guest Vorlak. Go to your room and think about what you just said. Placatingly: Aria, I apologize for my son's behavior."

There were still some feeble protests and resistance even after the son had left of course but she knew she had chosen well. The Elcor would meekly accept her proposal and with her advice, their desperate pleas back to Citadel space would rake in even more cash from the wealthy, sympathetic friends they still had there. More importantly, now that they had submitted Alera would throw all her commitment behind the project.

She was strong like that, in her own way. Smart enough not to try and cross Aria (who she could never hope to defeat) so instead she would make the best of the situation she found herself in. Feeling a strange affection for the family she had just extorted Aria stepped back out onto the streets of Omega, satisfied with the outcome of the encounter.

-12 years later-

Vorlak moved loudly through the streets of Omega, his heavy footfalls informing everyone around him that today wasn't the best day to disturb him. Not that there were many days when that ever did seem like a particularly good idea. On the streets, he had rapidly attained a violent reputation. The ring was one of the few places where he felt most himself, his opponents serving as useful outlets for the constant frustration of living with his parents under Aria's thumb.

And his parents' constant fatalism about the situation which drove him even madder! No matter what Aria expected of them they seemed determined to passively accept the hand that fate had dealt them. Of course, they wouldn't always agree with that assessment, pointing out the secret accounts they had to divert small amounts of funds back to themselves.

He had lost it at that point, shouting at them that it was all their money in the first place. Granted most of it was sent by friends his parents still had in Citadel space but that still made it theirs and very much not Aria's. God how much he hated when they talked about their pathetic petty victories over the tyrant that robbed them blind every day. Given half a chance he wanted to sink his fist into her (Aria's) face and watch her fly across the room like one of his opponents in the ring. That he understood only too well what the repercussions would be only served to make him even angrier.

His mother had gotten upset at this point, pointing out, while heavily distressed, that all the risks they were taking with Aria were so that he could have enough money to go back to Dakuuna now that he had come of age. In response he had mocked that ambition, pointing out he didn't even want to see the Great Grass Whatevers on the homeworld. They had cast him out before he'd even been born so their traditions meant nothing to him.

His father had lost his temper at that point. Then he had lost what little patience he'd been holding onto shortly afterwards and after some more choice insults had been thrown (and very nearly some punches) Vorlak had headed outside for a walk until things cooled off or he came across some idiots looking for a beating. Unfortunately, he'd struck out on that latter goal; Omega was learning slowly but surely to stay out of his way.

He walked for several hours without any real sense of time or direction. Omega was an endless maze of streets, not all of which were known to him but as long as he carried on going predominantly straight he knew he would find his way back. He had no particular destination in mind, only to avoid heading back home for the time being, but inevitably he found that the path he followed brought him back round to a part of the station he knew. Annoyed to realise that he now knew where every other side path in the area led he turned back homewards, not knowing of another route to explore.

As he approached his home district he was surprised to find a crowd gathering in large numbers around one of his mother's new projects, a nursery for younger kids to play safely in. Then he remembered that this was the grand opening he was supposed to have been attending. He'd declined of course, Aria was going to be there, but it looked like he would either have to trudge past or turn back away from home until it was over. Fed up of walking he decided he would press on regardless, suddenly home was where he wanted to be.

He did his best to ignore the stage where Aria was making one of her hypocritical speeches about how she made people's lives better on the station and how lost they would all be without her. A little way off to the left both of his parents stood at the side of the stage, looking on with pride. It was their work and they should have been the ones giving the speech but to be honest, Vorlak didn't really care. He hurried onwards, the only one in the crowd trying not to acknowledge anything that was going on around him.

That was at least until there was some commotion in the crowd. Some crazy human, with wild unkempt hair and a deranged look in his eyes, had run through the crowd and was pulling himself up onto the stage. Aria's bodyguards shot several rounds in him but they seemed not to be able to penetrate the heavy black armour he had draped around himself, obscured until now by a ragged cloak that had snagged and torn away as he made the climb. Of greater note was the backpack slung around his shoulders, from which an ominous red light pulsed at rapidly reducing intervals.

The man grappled with Aria herself now, shouting something incomprehensible at the top of his lungs, and Vorlak was transfixed. Aria was fighting back, trying to get out of the way but if the man had a bomb in that pack there was no way she'd ever get out of range in time. Just in front of him one of Aria's guards was trying to line up a shot with a high-powered rifle that looked as if it might have enough kick to put the assailant down. Vorlak discretely kicked out with his own front leg to ensure that didn't happen. There was no one else ready to come to Aria's aid, all he had to do was wait.

Or so he'd assumed until he saw Aria finally manage to twist out of her attacker's grip and with moments left to spare, biotically push him away to the left. Right to where his parents had been cowering in fear from all the shooting. The blast was largely absorbed by their large bodies, reducing the impact significantly. It was noted later that had Aria sent the bomb flying in virtually any other direction the number of casualties would have been much, much higher.

Not that Vorlak cared in the slightest. In spite of the pain he had caused him, the bomber had taught Vorlak a valuable lesson: that there was nothing he had in this world that could not be taken away from him at a moment's notice. His parent's efforts at trying to turn Omega into a safe haven had been misguided from the beginning. To avenge their deaths he would turn the station into hell.