Melnar Sol's story
-18 years ago-
I'd always loved the rainy season on Sur'Kesh until today. The feeling you get when those first few droplets of cool water start drenching your skin is just indescribable. When I was a very young spawn (at least 4 or 5 years ago now) I used to spend whole days out in the rain. All the kids did. Dancing in puddles or throwing our little heads in the air to look at the silvery patterns in the clouds as they loosed their gift upon the world. And if you ever got bored of the constant patter of raindrops on your skin, you could always dive back into the water for a while.
Today though I was beginning to understand why the other races weren't so keen on it. Today the clouds seemed dark and grey instead of silvery and the weight of the rain dragged everything down with it on its route to the dullness of the pavement. The little droplets I had delighted in still rolled along my face but I took no joy in it. So they rolled on, indifferent, as they slid along my shiny new battle armour and a few of them soaked into the single piece of paper I held in my hand, causing the ink to run.
Rejected, that's what it still said, though the words were becoming harder to read with every second the rains held. My application to join the Salarian Special Tasks Group had been rejected. Eight out of the nine instructors had passed me, but Melvarr Drinn had struck me off on the strength of some minor infraction I had apparently made.
'If you ask me the old fool needs his eyes testing,' I thought to myself but I struggled to maintain my anger for long. Doubt and self-loathing clung to me so closely that I struggled to put much force behind any emotion save for despair. It had been a long walk back already, filled with countless self-recriminations but I still had no idea what I was going to say to my family. They were eagerly waiting back home, ready to congratulate me.
I was sure they would be understanding, at least to my face. They would all nod sadly and tell me 'at least you tried your best' and 'maybe you can try again next year'. But then I would catch the looks they would give each other when they thought I wasn't looking. The worries that my promising future was slipping off track. The questions as to what they were going to do with me now. The subtle reconsidering as to if I was going to be an asset or a liability to the family name.
I didn't see him when he first approached. My focus dwelt on the rain, the narrow strip of dull wet pavement ahead of me, and above all else, the anger and shame I was carrying home. I didn't see him coming until he reached out with one hand and poked me on the shoulder. That's when I finally stopped and turned round, irritated to be roused from my own self-pity.
"I would have expected one of the STG's best trainees to be more alert," the voice was supremely confident. The figure it came from was one of the oldest Salarians I had ever met. His skin had turned a pale grey colour over the years and become so wrinkled it looked as if it could have covered two Salarians if were stretched out. He wore a vast dark hooded cloak which he clasped tightly around himself as if he were afraid of catching a chill even in the warm tropic air of Talat city.
"I'm not a trainee any more, old man," I snapped back angrily.
"I'm not anything."
The old Salarian gave me a withered smile that somehow didn't feel quite as friendly as it should have.
"Yes, I've been made aware of your unfortunate... setback."
"You call that a setback? My whole career is in ruins!"
"Instructor Drinn can be most cruel at times it is true but I believe that I can offer you an opportunity that perhaps even exceeds the one you were passed over for."
"Exceeds joining the STG?" I asked dubiously.
"The STG while deeply impressive in its accomplishments has also earned itself a level of notoriety we try to avoid."
"And who do you represent?"
"I think it wiser not to reveal that particular detail just yet. For now you may go back home to your waiting family and tell them that you've been seconded to a special division but please don't provide any further details as yet. The Salarian Union demands absolute discretion from its top operatives."
It's top operatives! I was almost giddy with relief, in minutes I had gone from an abject failure bringing shame on the family name to perhaps its most prestigious member. Even as I was thinking this the old man started to walk away.
"Wait! How will I contact you?"
"You won't. When the time is right we will contact you."
-3 years later-
"You!"
That I found him waiting in my apartments when I returned was not unexpected. None of the doors were unlocked or showed any signs of tampering or forced entry. None of the more specialized security systems I had installed had activated. So when I saw a lone figure standing in the hallway, draped in that filthy black rag he used as a cloak, I knew exactly who it was. As I made my exclamation he turned round, calm as ever despite his intrusion.
"You really screwed up this time. The target you sent me to eliminate was Governor Griss!" I shouted at him as soon as his face was in view.
"Of course," he replied unperturbed.
"You fucking knew, of course you did! Why the hell would you do that?"
"Now is that way to speak to your mentor, trainee? Why don't we start again so you can address me properly?"
"That would be easier if I knew your name," I snapped in retort but as usual his unwavering calm in the face of my bluster always made it difficult to maintain my anger.
He merely smiled at the comment and then continued as if I hadn't said anything.
"Now then trainee. You had a question to ask me? Politely."
Anger depleted I hesitated for a moment, choosing my next words with care.
"Why was I assigned to kill the Governor? Was he dirty?"
"Hmm. He was not the cleanest of politicians by all accounts. He kept an Asari mistress that led him into the ambush, where he met his unfortunate end. There are also some irregularities in his financial accounts I believe."
"You don't care about any of that," I pointed out. To become a target of an elite division such as ours I had expected something far more serious. That he was an agent working on behalf of another government at the least.
The aged spymaster (as I liked to think of him) gave the slightest of dry smiles at that remark.
"Not for a second no."
"So what the hell was so important that it was worth killing the elected leader of this colony in front of an Asari witness. Since when did our agency even start working with aliens."
"For the most part we do not, it is true," the ancient Salarian agreed.
"However we have found that there are some tasks better suited to the Asari than any of our own operatives, provided they can be trusted."
"And you're sure this Asari can?"
"Oh yes. She's not the best we've ever had but we've been quite thorough in our efforts to ensure her loyalty. Rest assured she will not breathe a word of what she has just witnessed... Unless we order her to."
"Unless you... you set me up!"
"Well that took a little longer than expected but we got there in the end. I'm glad my lessons in deductive reasoning did not go entirely to waste."
"What kind of operation is this?"
"You mean the group that can now ruin your entire life with a single order? The one that now owns you completely from this day, until your last?"
"You're insane, I'll expose you, I'll-"
"Oh, I wouldn't do that. People would think you'd gone completely barking mad for one thing. But it's not all bad cadet, you can't even begin to imagine the rewards that await you."
As he spoke he gave me the most predatory smile I had ever received from any living thing, sentient or otherwise.
"Welcome to the League of One."
-10 years later-
The years passed and so did the assignments. Some made sense, some didn't. Kill him, follow her, move package X to planet Y, evaluate a new enemy, spy on a friend. Sometimes I saw something in the news, a week or a month or ten years later, and think to myself 'yeah maybe that explains what I was asked to do'. Sometimes I caught myself waiting for the other shoe to drop on an old assignment, for the consequences to come due.
But for each and every task there was a reward to be had. Wealth and status were conferred onto my family as a matter of course, rapidly advancing us to the prominent place in Salarian society that made me and my contacts more useful to the League. Some benefits came to me directly, a private residence in the capital, fine clothes, expensive luxuries delivered to my door (they had an uncanny knack for anticipating my needs).
Only once did I complete a mission and receive no obvious gift at first. I had come back from a fairly grim assignment (the trade of certain "specimens" to the Collectors in exchange for some materials desired by the League) and wanted to spend some time resting back at home. A week passed, my wife filled me in on all the news I had missed while I'd been away and no reward materialized as I had expected it to. I remember being irritated with the League already.
I had problems going on at home and the latest job had been particularly disturbing so being late with my payment was not the best timing. I sent my contact a terse message, explaining my discontent in fairly blunt terms, and waited to see what their response would be. I didn't have to wait long. Later that evening my wife told me that Ju'than, the little thug from the year above that had been bullying my son for half a year now was moving away from the capitol. Apparently, his father had died in an industrial accident and the family had decided to leave the bad memories behind and make a fresh start elsewhere. My pager buzzed the moment she had finished speaking. I had received a message containing just two words:
"Reward Delivered."
My first instinct was to move the family at once. Find another city, buy a house with my own money instead of using the one the League had bought for me but I knew that I couldn't. Anything I did to try and extract myself from the situation would only arose their suspicion. Instead, I buried any thought of discontent and sent a reply thanking them for the gift and promising, groveling really, that I would never be so impatient about my payment again. Later that night I thought about that young Salarian bully while I tried to get to sleep. I didn't want to, I tried to tell myself that I must have misinterpreted the meaning of the message, but I kept finding myself wondering how the boy was coping without his father.
-5 years later-
The apartment was a mess. Three rooms were still filled with the clutter from the previous owners hoarding tendencies and the rest of the flat was little better. Grim and filth clung to every surface of my current home. I had considered trying to get the place straightened out but in the end, I couldn't see the point, nothing stays clean on this planet for long. Besides, a clean apartment wouldn't have suited my cover.
Only one area was kept completely pristine, a small space hidden behind stacks of defunct engine parts. From the outside you wouldn't have thought there was any way to get into this room either but with a modicum of rearrangement, one could reach the small workspace I had set up within. Nothing fancy, just a desk, some jamming equipment, and a small bank of monitors showing the incoming feeds from the surveillance equipment I had set up.
All the data was being recorded and would be reviewed in its entirety back home so I didn't pay much attention to the feeds personally. No, I was more focused on the newest monitor, still sitting in pride of place at the heart of everything despite the fact it was powered down. As I stared at this one I counted down the seconds slowly under my breath. When I reached zero the monitor blinked on, as always, right on schedule.
"Ah my favourite operative, it is good to hear from you. How is the weather where you are?"
"Toxic," I replied curtly. I really hate working assignments on Korlus. The place is filthy, polluted, and dangerous. I usually find myself dreaming of the clear blue pools of Sur'Kesh if I spend more than a few hours here. This latest job had taken two months of deep cover so far, all to watch some rusting old outpost on the outskirts of the Wastelands.
"Ah yes," the old spymaster chucked.
"Now I remember why I didn't want to debrief you in person. Regardless you'll be pleased to know the job won't last much longer, the time has come to act."
"What are my orders?" I asked immediately. He was right, I was pleased to be leaving here as soon as possible.
"We want the group brought in. You are to capture as many of them alive as possible. In particular, make certain that the Elcor is among the living."
"Understood. Which team are you sending in to support?"
"We are... Not able to supply a team at this time. Unfortunately, now that our timetable has been revised, all of our resources are required elsewhere for the moment."
"You've got to be kidding. I've counted at least a dozen Krogan in that compound and three times that many Vorcha. I can't take on a force of that size alone, not if you want me to bring them back alive."
"That is understood. Fortunately we have come up with an alternative solution based on the information you were able to send us."
"Which is?"
"The human woman you mentioned-"
"Jack?"
"No, her real name is Miranda Lawson. She's a former agent of Cerberus. Quite senior when she was with them I'm told. As I understand it the Illusive Man himself is very keen on her return."
"I can imagine," I muttered.
"We want you to tell Cerberus where to find her. I'm sure I needn't explain that it shouldn't appear to come from you directly."
"Ja- Miranda frequently visits Justaro. I'll convince him to volunteer the information."
"Very good. Cerberus will undoubtedly try to attack the compound directly, driving them out of their nest and probably into hiding. Once they emerge they will almost certainly want to charter a ship."
"Sure, I'll find something appropriate and be waiting for them. What happens if Cerberus does succeed in their objective, do you want me to interfere?"
"No, no. If Cerberus gets what they want we will have lost nothing and the result can still be twisted to suit our needs. I do not believe it will come to that though, I've heard that Miss Lawson is quite resourceful."
"You realise that if I do this I still risk exposing myself. To him."
"We are aware but after careful consideration, we have decided that it is worth the risk. After all the benefits if you should succeed will be great and shared by all."
"Another 'gift' left on my doorstep?" I asked sarcastically.
"Ah well, there are rewards and then there are real rewards, my friend. In all the time since we first met and you called me 'old man', you have received nothing more than trinkets. Although that was very many years ago now."
"What are you saying?" I asked, my interest piqued.
"All in good time, my lad. All in good time."