SHORT CHANGE HEROES
CHAPTER 4:
KERR AVON, AGENT OF THE SHADOW BROKER
While Avon's situation couldn't be considered painful, it was certainly incredibly irritating and annoying at this point in time. In the aftermath of his rather violent parting with Vila and the others (really, he didn't know that the timid little man had it in him…though he did punch out Arlen on Gauda Prime(1)), he had found himself at a loose end. He was free from the Federation, free from the shackles of Blake's revolution, which he had adopted to try and gain some semblance of freedom…and now, he was free in another universe. Of course, he needed to find something to apply himself to. He was a man who couldn't let his mind and skills lie fallow. It was abhorrent to a man of his not inconsiderable intellect.
It was one of the Spectres who had interrogated him and his fellow former revolutionaries who approached him, the Asari. Tela Vasir worked for the Shadow Broker, a famous and anonymous information broker who sold information of all kinds to the highest bidder. Given that Avon had skills as a hacker, as well as in fighting, he seemed like an ideal agent for such a being.
Officially, Avon was assistant to Barla Von, a Volus financial advisor. And while he was Von's assistant in truth, what Avon often did for Von was different. It rankled at Avon to have a master once more, to be on someone's leash, but at least the work was interesting and mentally taxing. While he didn't lack for such opportunities on the Liberator, it was more interesting to do it from a position of relative safety, than being on the run all the time.
Of course, there were times when the missions he was sent on irritated him. And as it seemed that he was going to have to save some naïve idiot's life, this was one of them.
They had received a call from an associate of the Shadow Broker, who had learned that a young Quarian possibly had information regarding Saren Arterius. And that said Quarian had been attacked not long after coming into this information. She had just contacted Fist, who she had been told was an agent of the Shadow Broker. Fist was, but Barla Von was confused that Fist hadn't contacted them, and the Shadow Broker, when contacted about the matter, said it was in hand, but if he wanted, Avon could go and help protect the damsel.
Hence why Avon was currently stalking through the Lower Wards of the Citadel, a gun at the ready. The girl had recently left the clinic of one Dr Chloe Michel, whom he advised to close up shop for the time being. He wasn't sure why he bothered: collateral damage wasn't something he was bothered by, despite his taunting Blake about the latter's apparent apathy towards it. But if Michel heeded his warning, then he may at least gain a contact if he needed one.
He found the Quarian after a prolonged period of searching as she began to head down a remote, out-of-the-way corridor. While such a place was a good place to conduct covert dealings like she was about to do, it was also a good place to get murdered quietly. Of course, that was what was probably going to happen unless he intervened. He also wondered what the Shadow Broker's game was. While the Shadow Broker being evasive was nothing new, this seemed new itself. Perhaps Fist had gone rogue, and the Shadow Broker was giving the man enough rope so he could hang himself with it.
He made his way to the corridor, and said to the Quarian, "It's never a good idea to head into an isolated area alone. I thought Quarians had some semblance of intelligence, given your technological ability."
She wheeled around. Even as she prepared her omnitool and summoned a drone, Avon studied her. Like all Quarian females that he had seen, she was somewhat attractive, in an exotic way. Her purple bodysuit hugged an hourglass figure that seemed mostly human, though the knees faced the opposite way, and there were only two toes on the feet and three fingers on each hand. A veil of some kind was draped over her helmet, while two glowing eyes peered out at him, suspiciously, from behind the mostly opaque visor. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice given a distinctive digital filtering by the comms system of her suit.
Avon put his hands in the air, even the one with the gun. "My name is Kerr Avon. I believe you must be Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I work with Barla Von, and we work for the Shadow Broker."
"If you're not working with Fist, then why are you here?"
"I am here to make sure the deal goes off without a hitch. Anyway, you must've smelt a rat when he suggested this isolated area. Then again, cooped up in those suits, Quarians mustn't smell much." Avon privately added to himself that he wasn't sure whether that was a blessing or a curse. A blessing, because they couldn't smell the excrement and refuse and other bad smells civilisation tended to produce. A curse, because they couldn't so much as smell a flower.
"Don't try anything," Tali'Zorah said warningly, cradling a shotgun.
"If I had, I would have shot you in the back as soon as I could get a clear shot. I do not talk or negotiate unless there is something to get out of it," Avon said coldly.
Soon enough, a small group of Fist's enforcers, led by a Turian, came through. The Turian frowned when he saw Avon. "Get lost, Avon. This doesn't concern you."
"It concerns Barla Von, and thus it concerns me. Once Miss Zorah concludes her business, then I will leave."
Tali'Zorah, however, seemed to frown. "Where's Fist? I was told I was meeting with him."
"He couldn't come. Now, the data…"
"No. Unless Fist is here, the deal's off!" But as Tali'Zorah turned to leave, Avon saw the Turian levelling a weapon. Just as he raised his own, the Quarian, warned by some instinct, turned and flung a stun grenade at them. Avon then grabbed her, and pulled her behind cover, ducking up only to shoot the Turian through the skull.
"It seems that the deal was never on," Avon remarked dryly as he got back behind cover.
"I thought you said that you worked for the Shadow Broker! And I was told Fist did too!"
"Do not believe everything that you are told, Miss Zorah, as it may get you killed. For example, you do not need that environment suit, as you will not die a horrible death from germs with different chiralities." With that acidic jibe, Avon shot another of Fist's thugs. As he ducked again, he also saw a small group of people in military gear coming down the alley. Three humans, presumably from the Systems Alliance, a Krogan he was sure was the mercenary Urdnot Wrex, and a Turian that he knew: a rather annoyingly-principled C-Sec officer called Garrus Varkarian. Varkarian was rather like Tarrant, but with more principles and more willing to have an intelligent conversation. At least when he was off-duty. Avon liked him, albeit in a grudging manner.
The resulting battle was short-lived. As the last agent of Fist expired, one of the humans, a woman, called, "Kerr Avon? Barla Von sent us."
"And how do I know that?" Avon asked.
"Being entitled to your opinions is all very well,
But thinking others are entitled to them is annoying as hell."
"What was that?" Tali'Zorah asked.
"Password, based on something I once said," Avon said(2). He stood, lowering his weapon. "Though Barla Von's ability as a poet, like that of most Volus, leaves a lot to be desired. Now, who are you, and what do you want with Miss Zorah here?"
The woman who spoke, who had red hair framing rather attractive features, albeit set in a determined look, said, "Commander Shepard, Systems Alliance. Tali'Zorah has something we need, evidence against Spectre Saren Arterius. Barla Von told us about her."
"And Fist?"
"Dead," rumbled the Krogan. "I blew his brains out."
"Surprising," Avon remarked. "I mean, that he had much in the way of brains to begin with."
"With a tongue like that, you could only be Avon," said the one man in the group. "Dayna and Vila said a lot about you."
Avon frowned. "Dayna and Vila? I knew Dayna worked for the Alliance, but Vila? I thought the little lush had retired to Eden Prime."
"Eden Prime?" Tali'Zorah gasped. "But…listen, Commander Shepard, if you are with the Alliance, then you will need to hear this."
"We'll head to the embassy," Shepard said. She then looked at Avon. "Eden Prime has been attacked. Your friend Vila is there, being debriefed."
"We aren't friends. The last time we saw each other, he punched me. Not without some justification, though I am surprised that he had it in him. Besides, friends are something of a luxury."
"Cold," the man remarked. "Then again, Dayna said something about you nearly shoving Vila out of an airlock(3)."
"Enough," Shepard said. "You two, come with me."
"Yes, ma'am," Avon remarked acidly.
Avon didn't like Ambassador Udina, to say the least. He was clearly one of those people promoted just beyond their competence zone. An almost perpetually angry, grizzled little lump of a man who would have done either very badly, or very well back in the Terran Federation. He probably had just enough political acumen to do competently at this job.
He was, surprisingly, more happy to see the balding little rodent of a man that was Vila Restal, who was nursing some sort of drink, with the familiar form of Anderson nearby. He looked up, and groaned. "Oh no, and here I was thinking my week couldn't get any worse."
"Don't worry," Avon said with a sardonic grin. "It will soon get much worse."
Udina looked at Avon, and then at Vila. "You two know each other?"
"We have more than a little history," Avon said. "The last time we met, which was when we first arrived on the Citadel, he punched me. Not without reason, though. I have to say I was impressed. I didn't know Vila had it in him. Kerr Avon, agent of the Shadow Broker, at your service. Thanks to myself, as well as Commander Shepard, you have a Quarian with an interesting bit of information, regarding Saren Arterius, and Eden Prime."
This got the Ambassador's interest. And Tali'Zorah soon played back an audio file she had salvaged from a Geth. When he heard the second part of the recording, of who was talking to Saren, he began to laugh.
"What's so damned funny, Avon?" Anderson demanded.
"Don't you know who that is?" Avon said, between laughs. "It's bad enough that you're accusing Saren Arterius of treachery…but now, you're accusing one of the top Asari Matriarchs of the same! Matriarch Benezia!" He laughed again. "What next, one of the Turian Primarchs?"
"This is not a joke, Avon," Shepard said coolly.
Avon managed to calm himself down, before facing her. "Life is a joke, Shepard. A cruel prank played by the universe on a continual basis. By this point, I wouldn't be surprised if Servalan ended up here."
Vila scowled. "Avon, don't tempt the universe…"
"…we're in enough trouble as it is."
"Oh dear," a rather charismatic, older man, with eerily glowing eyes, remarked, as he looked out over a star from his darkened office. "It seems that for all of his intelligence, Kerr Avon has a tendency to tempt fate."
A faint chuckle from behind him. Only the knowledge that his bodyguards are on the alert comforts him, as he wouldn't let this person behind him otherwise. "He likes to live dangerously. Why else would he not kill me after he had so many opportunities?" purred the throaty voice of a woman, seductive and sensuous.
A faint buzzing noise, like a beehive, preceded a fussy, pedantic voice. "The distinct probability is that he felt some form of attraction to you. Personally, I think it was a waste of his intellect…"
"Oh, shut up, Orac," said the woman's voice. "Your opinion is irrelevant. I only want facts from you."
The man, known only as the Illusive Man to almost everyone, chuckled, turning in his seat to see a slender woman with an elfin, cruel face and short, boyish black hair, dressed in glamorous clothing (as always). She was sitting in her own seat, glaring at a Perspex box filled with unusual circuitry. The buzzing noise emanated from said box.
"Opinions are, at their best, an extrapolation of established facts. If you wish me to function to my full capacity, then I will give opinions, unwarranted or not."
The woman sighed, removing a small Perspex rectangle from the box, and the buzzing noise swiftly quietened. "Damnation, Ensor(4), why did you have to give your damned computer so much of your personality?"
"All creators put themselves into their work," the Illusive Man said with a smile.
The woman stood, placing the box on the ground, and then sashayed forward. "And you are creating a better galaxy."
"A galaxy where humans are above all others."
"What other kind is there?" the woman asked wryly.
The Illusive Man nodded, looking out at the spectacular view. "It was something of a surprise to find you here, a few months ago. Of course, I daresay that your former…adversaries? They'd be even more surprised, wouldn't they, Servalan?"
Servalan, formerly Supreme Commander of the Galactic Federation's Military, formerly President of the Galactic Federation, and formerly Commissioner Sleer, smiled. "Oh yes. I daresay it would be the biggest surprise of their lives…and probably their last…"
CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:
And there you have it: Avon rescuing Tali, and Servalan making an appearance! I should thank Paladin3030 for inspiring me to bring Servalan into this fic. There'll be more details as to how she ended up in this universe in a later chapter.
Once more, though, it will probably be a very long time before you get a new chapter. Sorry, but I have other, more interesting fics. This fic is NOT abandoned yet, though, and I might produce more chapters once I start a new playthrough of Mass Effect.
Review-answering time! Overlord-Zenorac: Well, here he is. Hope he doesn't disappoint.
jsopenshaw: When I saw your review, I was astonished that anyone was reading this fic anymore. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter.
1. Only to get shot: see Blake, the final episode of Blake's 7, for details.
2. Namely based on lines from Bounty. I love that line. Vila says "I'm entitled to my opinion", and Avon retorts, "It's your assumption that we're ALL entitled to it that is irritating."
3. Another reference to the events of Orbit.
4. Ensor was the creator of Orac, and appeared in the episode titled Orac, the final episode of the first series of Blake's 7. He died during the episode, though. Dorian, in Rescue, notes that Orac is much like Ensor, irascible and graceless.