Mass Effect: Entangled

Chapter 2

2181: Khar'Shaan

"Second Lieutenant Credgarok. Please report to dock four-nine-seven in two hours. All messages to this terminal after your departure will be archived."

"I'm going, damnit," Bray grumbled at the apartment's onboard VI. He didn't want a machine to remind him of where he was going every day. He received the new assignment the day before and none of it made sense. He was being dispatched along with several others of the Batarian Special Forces to an undisclosed area. The order came straight from the top: Ararn Balak.

After the fall of Torfan in 2178, Ka'hairal Balak "replaced" his predecessor as head of the Hegemony's military, and with that, he was given the lead way in many things. That included giving full command of the Batarian Special Forces to his younger brother, Ararn Balak. Ka'hairal increased the momentum of anti-human propaganda throughout the Hegemony and ignited violence in many human colonies in the traverse. The incursions with the Alliance were double compared to the prior years and enlistment of the army was up three hundred percent.

The BSF was dispatched to Torfan, but when they arrived, the Alliance was gone and all that was left was destruction and dead bodies in its wake. Civilians were left unscathed and alone with the dead while some soldiers were not accounted for. It was later discovered that those that surrendered were taken captive by the Alliance and held. Humanity's military dared not to use the terminology, "Prisoners of War," for they knew the consequences. That's all the Hegemony needed to launch a full-scale attack. The Alliance simply said they took the soldiers in for questioning and would be returned weeks later. Ka'hairal would not let this rest. Petitioners were sent to the Citadel to shun the Alliance's attack and call for reparations. Though, the Council quickly denied their request. They knew better than to get involved. The tribunal declared that the matter was a private one between humanity and the batarians. They would not intervene. Though, the batarians all knew it in their hearts that the Council races favored humanity over them.

Fastening his armor, Bray reached over to grab his pack. He didn't mind serving under Ararn Balak even though he didn't care for Ka'hairal's enraged fascist propaganda. Bray didn't trust the entire prejudiced rhetoric. The way he saw it, both sides were just as much at fault as the other. Ararn had a little bit more of a level head than his sibling. He was cunning and strategy was his forte. With his command, they won most of their skirmishes against the Alliance and this boosted the morale within the homeworld and on the frontlines. This new assignment seemed different to him; there was no location for their destination and no objective laid out.

Stepping out of his apartment and engaging the security system, Bray turned and moved his way down the hallway to exit the compound. He was just getting used to staying planet side on his temporary duty. To him, it was like shore leave. For the past two weeks, he was tasked to serve as a bodyguard to a prominent member of the Hegemony, Cano Ger'sanak. As security detail, Bray was privy to the perks of the position; he could visit some of the more lavish parts of the capital and the entertainment. It was like a paid-for vacation.

Twenty minutes later, he exited the tram that took him down to the docks. He was early to his destination. Some workers stopped what they were doing to gaze upon him with looks of concern and admiration. A few stepped near his path to fire out a salute and shouts of praise. Bray dared not to catch their courtesy. He wasn't brainwashed like the ninety percent of the planet's inhabitants. As a male, he was required to enlist in the military at a young age. When he was twenty, he was activated and five years after that, he was marked to be one of the few select candidates to be part of the Batarian Special Forces. He rose through the ranks quickly due to his marksmanship skills. The BSF was once known as the Special Intervention Unit. Their eight-month training program was brutal and the worst eight months of his life. He was the youngest trainee in his division and was mocked constantly by his peers and commanding officers. Out of twenty noobs, only eight graduated. Eight others failed and four were killed. Bray was the second in his class. After Balak took over, he changed his team's name to coincide with his own External Forces. Now, Bray was thirty and he felt damn old compared to the younger recruits he passed in the streets of Khar'Shaan.

He paused in his step near the slave market docks to grab a smoke from his pocket. It could be his last one until he was done with the mysterious assignment. He was going to enjoy every puff of it. Lightening up, he glanced over at where a fresh new set of slaves were being brought off a transport. A crowd of eager buyers was hovering around to get a good look at the assortment. Most of the slaves were batarians: A good mixture of both males and females. They either were unable to pay a debt that they or a family member owed or their place in the caste system was unfortunate. To his sheer luck, Bray was born on the higher side of the spectrum and never had to worry about that except for his own undoing. The slaves appeared to be well taken care of and unharmed. The females were quickly marked for various brothel houses; the norm for their gender along with a few unlucky males. After each slave was marked, the stock was switched out to the most sought: Humans. Raids picked up in the Terminus systems with their primary sights on human colonies. All of this was encouraged and funded by Ka'hairal. The slave trade was now a booming business. The humans fared nothing in comparison to their batarian counterparts. All had wiring coming out of their heads for control and their clothes were in rags that barely covered their bodies. They sustained bruises all over and their hair was dirty and matted. The crowd picked up as shouts to buy rose with competition all around. The human slaves had the worst fate. Statistically, most didn't survive after five years. They were beaten, fed to varren for fun, raped, or killed in various ways for spite. The traders didn't care. They happily accepted the creds and the price increase made them eager to go out for more.

A pair of batarians who just left the crowd, walked past him. "Charn always has one of the best!" One exclaimed.

"Too bad I didn't get paid yet," The other grumbled.

Shaking his head in disgust, Bray took a few more puffs from his cigarette before snuffing it out with his boot. It was time to move on and meet up with his squad.

Ararn was silent until they exited the transport at their undisclosed destination. After departing, Bray glanced around and couldn't tell where they were. The terrain contained mountains and the sky housed two fairly large moons. None of it looked familiar. A fairly lit area was up ahead about one kilometer away. The air was cool causing Bray shivered a bit in his armor and felt his warm breath against his face in his helm. "Listen up," Ararn barked to grab their attention. Bray noted there were fifteen of them there; not a significant number against Alliance marines. "Up ahead is a human colony known as 'Promise.'" He mocked the name with resentment oozing off his tongue. "I want a clean sweep. Nothing lives."

Bray was thankful that his helm hid his widened eyes. He didn't expect this order at all. When were they tasked to just attack non-military targets? "How many soldiers out there?" He asked.

Balak turned to look his way. "No Alliance this time. Maybe a few private security guards. Heh, I guess they chose the wrong job." He redirected his attention to the entire unit. "Burn it all down. Remember Torfan. The Alliance massacred many of our brethren without justification. Let's return the favor," he hissed.

Bray's stomach tightened at the command. He was not stupid enough to question openly in front of a superior officer. The idea of just slaughtering innocents outside of warfare was simply murder. Where was the honor in that? As Ararn began to lead the march, Bray felt himself becoming stiff with his feet sluggish. His breath became heavier in his helmet. Would he go through with this? If he disobeyed the order by Ararn, he would be killed on site.

As they neared, alarms rang out from within the colony. They were aware of their presence and their horrific intent. The batarians could hear shouts of frenzy and voices giving out various orders. This only seemed to entice Ararn's blood lust as the batarian leader quickened his pace into a jog with his rifle at the ready. The others followed suit. Once the BSF breached the entrance, most of the colonists retreated to various living pods to seek shelter. A few unfortunate souls were still straggling about and were killed in their steps. Gunfire from the batarians interrupted the colony's once peaceful slumber and shrills of fright followed. Bray raised his weapon, but didn't fire a shot yet. He had to play along and somehow avoid being caught. Seconds later, another order came from his CO, "Fan out! Split!" That was what he needed! Dashing to the left, Bray zigzagged through some living pods until he came to the far end of the colony. Most likely, they were going to do a pod-by-pod search and that would take time. Hopefully, his farce would work. In the distance, he could hear screams of young and old coming from units before a sickening silence of their tragic end. How could Ararn be so taciturn? How could he just give the order to kill everyone including children? Bray didn't love the humans by any means, but he did not want to just simply kill them because they existed. Glancing anxiously around, he kept his eyes peeled for any ambushes. To the humans, he was the enemy and if any of them mustered the courage, they would try to attack him.

Minutes later, he overheard gunfire nearing and then saw one of his fellow soldiers near his line of vision. "Fuck…" He swore. Fortunately, the officer didn't see him yet. Bray used his omni to easily hack into the nearest living pod's lock and let himself in. There were at least two pods before the one he was in was reached. He had time to think of something. Cries of terror nearby grabbed his focus and he looked over to see a woman in her mid-forties desperately clinging to her frightened young teenage daughter. They grabbed one another as they feared their end or worser fate. "Be fucking quiet!" They tried their best to stifle their confused, terrified emotions. The door to the pod opened up swiftly and in walked a fellow soldier that donned a pyro pack. He was one of the three that was to burn the structures down. Bray tensed as he saw him. "These are mine."

The batarian chuckled as he looked at the humans in delight. "Don't be holding out, Bray. We all can have some fun before we kill them. Which one do you want?"

"Balak didn't tell us to rape them. We are not damn pirates," Bray growled at him.

"He won't know. It's been months. A quick rape. I'll take the young one," The batarian moved past him to grab the young girl's arm. The teenager shrilled in protest as she grabbed her mom's hands to protect her from the torment to come.

Bray grabbed his shoulder and yanked him away violently nearly causing the other to lose his footing. "I said no!" The batarian moved to challenge him, but Bray fired several rounds point-blank into his chest. The proximity past his kinetic barriers and struck his heart twice. A soft groan came from the other's mouth before he fell over dead. Bray had to move fast. Bending down, he removed the other's pyro pack and strapped it on his own back. His eyes lifted to the cowering colonists. "Run behind this pod to the woods as far as you can go. Don't come back until we are gone. Is that clear?!"

The women stumbled as they got up and eagerly left, still dumbfounded by his actions. Following them outside the living pod, Bray activated the pack and used the nozzle to spray out flames onto the structure, catching it on fire instantly. Within seconds, the entire building was engulfed. The fire would hide his treachery for now.

Two hours after the BSF's arrival, the once-small colony of Promise was decimated. All the living pods were in ashes along with blackened skeletal remains who sought out refuge or were trapped inside to be burned alive. The rest of the streets were littered with corpses ages varying. Bray felt as if he was going to vomit as his brown eyes transfixed upon the dead. Ararn did the final headcount. "Where the hell is Crator?" Many shrugged in response.

"Haven't seen him," One finally spoke up.

Ararn tapped his comm. "Crator! Get your ass here. We are leaving!" There was no response. The others exchanged confused looks. Ararn growled out in frustration as he turned to leave the colony. "If he doesn't reach the transport by the time we leave, he will be marked as a deserter; a disgrace to the Hegemony."

"And an instant death sentence…." Bray said to himself as guilt washed over him. What would he do now?

Khar'Shaan:

Bray felt complacent as he stood in his darkened one-room apartment. His brown eyes panned over slowly first to his makeshift small kitchen, then his bed and living space till finally back down on his changed attire: Civvies. He shuffled the pack on his back as his body was restless to move on. Was he going to do this? His chest felt tight. He didn't have a choice. It was clear that under Balak's new style of leadership that the military including the Special Forces would not only engage with the Alliance but they were going to be dispatched to slaughter human colonies. They were on the brink of war. Bray was lucky this time, but just how far would his luck run? They wouldn't just stop at Promise. Could he just kill innocents, even if they weren't batarians? What if word got back about Crator's demise? An investigation was ongoing no doubt due to his status of desertion. If Bray needed to act, then he had to do it that instant. Cursing in his native tongue, he forced himself to exit the apartment and move onward to the docks.

The docks were buzzing with product coming in and out. Bray had to navigate through the lines of workers moving to and from the ships with the cargo. He diverted his eyes away to avoid contact. Seeing one merchant standing off to the side of his ship as it was being unloaded, Bray made a beeline to him. "Where are you heading off to?"

"Piss off," The merchant grumbled at him as he kept his four eyes on his cargo being offloaded. "I don't take passengers." He didn't recognize Bray to be part of the elite military group, but he preferred it that way. His attire was passing.

With a sigh, Bray reached into his pocket to retrieve his credit chit. "Five thousand creds. Double what a passenger ship would take."

The merchant paused as he studied the chit in Bray's fingertips. "Omega and make it seven." He held out his electronic transaction box. Bray scowled as he reluctantly scanned his chit to deduct the cost.

"When we do leave?"

"In about twenty minutes. Have another load to pick up there. You interested in work?"

"I'll try Omega."

"Heh, good luck."

Omega:

"Repent! All of you are damned! The word is clear! Humans are the blight of the galaxy. It is time that we wash away our sins!" A prophet's voice trumpeted over the crowd as they offloaded from their ships onto the Omega station. Some stragglers gathered to listen in on the raving batarian that proudly stood on a crate to be seen by all. Bray rolled his eyes as he pushed along through the mass, following the pulsing music that was coming from nearby. Once he cleared the section of the station, the area opened up and he now stood right outside the main attraction: Afterlife. A large display screen brightly lit up the streets as it showed images of the asari entertainers in provocative poses. Vibrating bass music came from within. A line had formed from the club's entrance and protruded down the steps and around the corner of the next street. Bray sidestepped as he reached into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette and lit up. Inhaling then blowing the smoke through his nostrils, both sets of his eyes stayed upon the club. An elcor was working the line and allowing small groups at a time to enter while several batarian guards stood nearby to work security. Taking one more drag, Bray snuffed the cigarette out and then ventured on toward one of the guards. As he neared, the guard stiffened up as he expected trouble.

"You need to get in line. You know the rules." The guard snapped harshly at him as Bray was about ten feet away.

"I am looking for work."

The batarian nodded his head to the door. "Go inside to the front desk. I'll let them know."

The doors slid open and he was escorted by a krogan inside. A beautiful barely dressed asari maiden manned the front desk. She had a few facial markings on her forehead and she had the most intoxicating perfume that he had ever smelled before. Her deep ocean-blue eyes lit up as she saw him approach. "Hello, sir. You are looking for work?"

"Yeah."

The asari picked up a datapad and swiped through it some. "Any particular skills?"

Bray paused to answer the question and then cleared his throat. "Security detail." A half-truth; after all, he did do security on his homeworld.

"I see…" The asari scrolled through the posts and frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. Aria's security guard positions are full. What about a supply courier? Your task would be to transport goods from the docks to the club.

"I was hoping to be one of the bodyguards," Bray pressed. He would need protection from the Hegemony once they mark him as a deserter.

The asari giggled light-heartedly at this. "I'm sorry, sir. Aria likes to hand-pick her selections and most do not go straight to that role. I will certainly put you on the list for future consideration if you would like. Though, I cannot guarantee when that will be."

"Do that and I will take that courier role."

Omega, One Week Later:

"There have been more unprovoked Alliance attacks on batarian colonies in the Terminus. The Council is turning a blind eye. Support the Hegemony today and make the humans pay." Disdain dripped off the batarian announcer's tongue as his voice echoed through the various speakers in the markets that afternoon.

Bray grunted at the message and continued his trek with his cargo in tow on a hover skit to the loading area of Afterlife. He loathed the boring work, but he had to keep his head down and guard up. Carping crowds of the homeless and shoppers made the navigation tight and he found himself constantly yelling at people to get out of the way. Up ahead, he noticed that a large gathering stopped the flow of foot traffic and all heads were turned in the direction of Aria's entourage. The seductive and gorgeous purple-pigmented skin asari was accompanied by two heavily armed krogan bodyguards. Her sheer presence seemed to enamor the citizens of the station. Shouts of endearment and affection were thrown her way as the group became chatty. Bray found the whole ordeal to be insipid. Just as T'Loak and her guards passed his way, the cheers mutated into gasps and screams of fear. A deranged human male shoved his way violently through the crowd to get to the open passageway and behind T'Loak. He was armed with a shotgun. The man's eyes were bloodshot red and his face was badly unshaven.

Reacting to the calamity, Bray darted through the crowd as the sudden act scared them. They broke apart to get away from him as he unholstered his sidearm. Catching on to the scene behind them, the krogan slowly turned to handle the situation. Though, Bray knew that their speed was too slow as the man lifted his shotgun. It was doubtful that he would hit Aria, but there was always a chance. Bray aimed his pistol and fired at the man, catching him off-guard. After all, his sights were only the opposition in front of him and not behind. The round hit the back of the man's skull and blood trickled from his lips as his petrified expression remained on his face. He staggered a few steps closer, but dropped his weapon shortly before he fell to the ground dead.

Seeing that the first threat was quashed, the krogan guards turned their attention to Bray who was still holding his pistol. "Drop it!" One of them barked.

Bray lifted one hand to show that he was not hostile as he re-holstered his weapon. "Easy. I did you a favor."

Aria looked his way with a neutral expression. She seemed to be calm despite the attack on her life. Her blue eyes then flickered to her guards with bitterness. "It seems like he handled the matter quicker than you."

"Sorry, Aria," One muttered.

"You work for me?" She repositioned her eyes upon Bray.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "I work at the docks."

"I see. Come with me." She turned to one of the guards, "Take the cargo to the club." The directed krogan grumbled by the lowly order as he moved to his new assignment.

Taking a breath, Bray moved to her side and avoided any eye contact with the crowd who was still watching everything unfold. Aria continued in her steps with him right next to her. "You have quite the shot to be a simple dock worker." Her voice lowered. "Explain yourself." A beat. "Be careful with your words. Those who lie to me don't live long."

"Ex-military," He admitted. "I applied to be one of your guards, but heard all positions were filled."

"Not anymore. Good help is hard to find. True, the krogan have the muscle, but not the agility. What's your name?"

"Bray."

Aria paused outside the club's back entrance. Afterlife's pulsing bass music pounded from within. She spun on her high heel to look back at him. "I'm replacing them and making you my personal bodyguard. Your shift starts now."