Garrus
Their op went off without a hitch. Zel'Aenik nar Helash died, choking on his home-made disease. Even though the turian-specific plague wasn't tailored to quarian physiology, the virus made quick work of him. Once they applied a few appropriate suit ruptures of course. Vulnerable immune systems were a bitch. Really added some zest to the phrase 'poetic justice.' Since defecting from the flotilla, Zel had murdered countless people. Hundreds at the very least. Maybe thousands. It was hard to get an accurate body count considering Omega's death rate. But it was damn high.
Vortash did good. So good that they brought him in as a probationary member. While he didn't have access to their base of operations, he became an entertaining fixture in their group. Hissing and spitting as as he brought down enemies with the utmost brutality.
However, the chipper mood permeating the base screeched to a halt when they finally went for Tarak. Now they were back in the Kima district where it all began. Just him and Ripper. The same seedy little joint. A line of shots in front of the human. Although, thanks to their efforts, the crime rate had plummeted. And the establishment was a far cry from the dilapidated bar Garrus found himself in two years ago.
"I'm sorry man." Garrus topped off Ripper's whiskey. He took him out on the town, one on one, after everything. They came within centimeters of ending Tarak, only for the slippery bastard to have fail safe after fail safe. The batarian managed to reach a panic room and summon reinforcements before they could finish him off. Now Tarak would be on guard, if he stayed on the station at all.
"Grew up my whole life on the streets. Jus' me and Dusty." His curls jittered as he breathed in. "I know now… know that's they's jus' used us. Specially that bitch-ass T."
Something about it was irking him though. How Tarak was so prepared. They'd just been going after weapon and slave shipments. Not once did they attack a crime boss. He had been careful about that for this very reason. Ripper was a good friend. And an essential member of the team. Someone who had been with him from the start. Now his one ask was out of their reach. If he upped and quit, Garrus wouldn't blame him. But Ripper wasn't like that. He was loyal to a fault. Not to mention the fact that the team was the closest thing to a family he ever had.
They sat in silence for awhile. Garrus mulling over the day's events. Analyzing every detail. Grilling his mind for a clue. When his com rang, startling him from the depths.
He answered. And Krul's grave voice greeted. "There's something you need to see."
"Right now? I'm busy."
"It's about our op that went sour. Trust me, you want to see this sooner rather than later."
Garrus paid the current tab, phoned Weaver and Mierin so Ripper wouldn't be alone, then headed back to base.
It was a damming vid. So damming that Garrus not only played it a dozen times but had Krul authenticate the footage. Twice. Still, it was plain as day. Vortash meeting with a group of Blue Suns. Clearly on friendly terms. After handing Vortash a new shotgun, omni-blade, and several ration packets, the vorcha exchanged some sort of data-pad with them. Ten to one it contained information on the weapons raid that went south last week. And their plans to go after Tarak.
Garrus sighed. "Anyone else see this?"
"Sidonis caught it." Krul answered. "But I told him this was for your eyes only. He won't say anything."
"Vortash's IQ isn't that high … Still, I never got the feeling he'd betray us."
"Does it matter if they tricked him?"
"No. But let's keep this quiet for now. Given the mood on base, tempers could flare and..."
"You're gonna let 'em live?" Krul's tone was almost rancorous. "Seriously?"
"I was careful not to share information beyond our immediate ops. He knows nothing else of value."
"Fine be soft if you want. You know how I feel about traitors."
"This isn't the same situation. They probably manipulated him into it."
"Opportunistic scavengers don't need much incentive."
"Maybe. But I'm not killing him. Not unless it's necessary."
Garrus met with Vortash a few hours later. It was a back alley, just in case. But he hoped it wouldn't come to that. Once confronted, to say the vorcha was distressed would be a vast understatement.
"No do this Archangel!" A fountain of spit misted around the creature as he wailed and hissed.
"The vid says otherwise."
Two grubby hands clawed at his wrists, pulling "No! No! That Vortash-Two. I Vortash-One. But Vortash-Two would not!"
Garrus shook him off and left him there, squalling on the floor. The evidence was concrete. Irrefutable. But he had to admit to a bit of uneasiness. The utterly primal cries really got in under the plates.
Halfway to the markets, Vortash rambled into sight dragging a similar-looking vorcha behind him. Strikingly similar actually. "Look! Look! Vortash Two! Vortash Two!"
"There's… two of you?" Garrus paused, curiosity sparked. Nothing could've prepared him for the following events however.
"Show you!" Vortash lunged towards the other vorcha and promptly sheered its arm off. Strangely enough, the wounded creature helped, even gave him the blade. It cut through the appendage with shocking ease. "Will be Vortash three!" He waved the arm around like a toy.
"Spirits."
"We same! He no do this either! No give Suns nothing!" The latter half was screeched. "Datapad the fake! You gave!"
"I never gave you crap."
"No true!"
"Lying and chopping off body parts isn't helping matters. I'm done."
Whatever misgivings he had evaporated the moment Vortash lashed out and bit the other Vortash through the neck. The second vorcha crumpled, blood spurting from his jugular. Teeth gnashing. Eyes going hazy and distant. He quickly whipped out the medi-gel and tended to the vorcha. The creature didn't need much, their regeneration was powerful. But Vortash's teeth sheered clean through the artery, even a vorcha would bleed out under those circumstances.
He could see now that Vortash was too primal, too barbaric. A debased creature barely out of the stone age. More animal than man, he gnashed his teeth in the air, bits of flesh dangling, blood and spit bursting forth as he hissed. Garrus left him there. Washed his hands of Vortash, thinking they'd never see one another again.
Merely a few days passed before murmurs of sickness blossomed. And Garrus wondered whether they eradicated all of Zel's projects, or if something had escaped the lab. Within hours of the first whisper, the Gozu District was quarantined. To make matters worse, Nalah was still inside. She'd been working at the clinic, a seemingly ordinary day, when the first patient showed up. Then all hell broke loose. And the clinic was flooded.
The whole team wound up outside the perimeter, ready to force their way in if that's what it took. Yet it lead to the realization of just how serious this sickness was. Because Aria's people intervened. Sleek purple jet-cars blotted out the faux horizon. He caught glimpses of them before. But only glimpses. Outside of bouncers and a few omega-patented pimps, they were an invisible force. Never seen. Always watching.
It made him question the possibility of this virus being one of Zel's. After all, they were meticulous – careful. They decontaminated the lab thoroughly. Even scrubbed down Vortash and burned their hazmat-gear. They hadn't worn armor or brought much equipment either, assuring the ease of sterilization. After all, their foes were the viruses, not the soft, quarian target.
Erash confirmed his suspicions after speaking with Aria's people. Zel wasn't cooking up anything that vicious, not this round of viruses anyhow. He was going for infection numbers. Making his concoctions too lethal was how his last plague failed. Whatever this was had already claimed dozens of lives. It spread like wildfire with virtually no incubation period. All of Zel's projects had a one to two week window before symptoms started.
By the time they regrouped at their home-base, reports were pouring in from the clinic. The illness crossed species – regardless of chirality. Thoroughly convincing Garrus that this was another player.
Butler wasn't taking the sudden change in priorities well, however.
"I don't give a rat's ass!" Frank stomped through the entryway. "We gotta get her out o' there!"
"She's in the safest place possible, Mordin's clinic. And you heard her on the com."
"That woman." Frank growled, a bit of spittle at the edge of his lip. He threw down his jacket, slapping it against the couch.
Nalah's exact words were sharp, but they were inundated with patients and Frank was being a bit over the top. For one, he nearly wound up shot at the check point. When Aria's people arrived, he refused to budge. Had a hissy fit. Literally screamed at one of the guards then threatened to shove a rifle up the man's cloaca. If Nalah hadn't intervened, cooler heads may not have prevailed. 'Mordin has this place under lock and key. Regardless, I'd be here anyway. You decided to pick up a gun and fight. This is what I chose. Until this plague is over, I won't budge.' She hung up then, leaving Butler dazed and red-faced.
"A man should be allowed to protect his family."
"I hear that Frank. But this is disease. You can't fight that with guns. Mordin's the best chance for ending this thing, and he needs all the help he can get."
Garrus then detailed how the sickness wasn't affecting humans. Proof that whatever this was, Zel wasn't behind it. Either that, or he was working with someone else. And this was retaliation for their partner's death. Whatever the reason, they needed to get to the bottom of it. Fast. Before more districts were hit. Districts who didn't have a salarian genius watching over them.
"If things get rough, we'll extract her. I'm sure I can find a way in." Garrus assured.
"You'd do that?"
"So much as a whiff Mordin and his mechs can't handle something, we go in hot. I won't let a cough stop me. Not if Nalah's on the line."
"She's all I got left."
"I know." Garrus rested an over-sized, turian palm on the man's shoulder. "I know. Nothing's going to happen to her. You have my word."
Thankfully, that mollified the man. Gave him something to focus on. Then they both sat at the table with the rest of the team to draw out a plan. It was all hands on deck. No one could sit this one out, not even Krul. Age and alcohol had really taken its toll. Yet, he was there. Dedicating every ounce of his waning energy to the cause. While Mordin battled the virus on the front lines, they worked on ferreting out whatever sick bastard released it in the first place. From dawn to dusk, they worked around the clock. Chasing leads. Shining light into Omega's shadowed crevices.
But the answer wasn't theirs to uncover. Dark and powerful forces were using Omega like a petri dish. Far more powerful than any gang or organization they could dream up.