Chapter I
Cayden strolls out of C-Sec with his undeniable freedom thanks to several key eyewitnesses and a conveniently framed video supplied by a patron. He fills his lungs with clean air, having spent the last few days alternating between dirty, overcrowded cells and oddly musty interrogation rooms. He immediately searches his pockets but finds no cigarettes. After stopping a passer-by and successfully bumming two, he produces his gold lighter and lights the first one. He savors the smoke in a deep inhale as he places the second cigarette behind his ear. He enjoys his freedom and the stranger's cigarette for a moment of clarity, then calls for a taxi using the terminal across the foyer. The resulting ride back to his apartment near the Silversun Strip is quietly triumphant.
He sighs with relief as he enters his apartment. The carpet is colored in black with shades of red in a set of unique patterns reminiscent of ancient Quarian culture. The walls and ceiling are a matching dark blue. Light streams into the room through the white curtains over the window adjacent to the front door. The whole apartment, despite its size, has a unique intimacy and a tinge of sadness because of the memories it contains within its walls. He moves into the living room, dropping the contents of his pockets into a small bowl on the bar as he reluctantly makes his way to the terminal in his office.
As anticipated, the terminal is blinking to signify an incoming call is awaiting his acceptance. It can only be one of two people, and Cayden doesn't want to talk to either of them right now. He just wants to relax. Unfortunately, the caller is persistent and Cayden knows it is pointless to stall. Even if he manages to somehow ignore it long enough, there will just be a knock at his door after a while anyway. After several minutes of stalling, Cayden finally accepts his fate and sits at his desk with a sigh. He quickly navigates through the terminal to activate the secure communication line that is annoyingly interrupting his much-needed relaxation. With a physical wince and an audible pfft, he opens it.
The screen responds by bringing up a black window. After a moment, an image of a swirling ball of alternating light and darkness comes into focus. Cayden sighs again. Of course it would be him first. As the image clears, a silhouette of a man in a futuristic-looking casual outfit sitting in an office chair appears on-screen. Smoke swirls around him supernaturally; originating from a cigarette being casually twirled in between the man's fingers to punctuate his impatience. This entire presentation: brought to you by unfathomable wealth and dangerous ego.
"Commander Hill," the man begins in a gravely baritone. "I'm glad to see you are out." He takes a long, thoughtful drag from his cigarette, the smoke almost managing to plot a successful escape before disappearing between his teeth with a hiss. "I hope you are well."
"Illusive Man," Cayden responds with a slight snicker. What a silly moniker to give yourself. "Glad to see you are lounging so close to an active nuclear fusion reactor. I hope your radiation shields have been updated." He makes no attempt to hide his contemptuous mocking, but it goes largely ignored as usual.
"On the contrary," the Illusive Man chuckles. The digital blue irises of his prosthetic eyes seem to pierce right through the terminal screen. "I have intel you were forced to shoot Lieutenant Sullivan in self-defense during a gambling dispute " he sighs. "That's unfortunate. At least there were plenty of witnesses and you were cleared, although I hear Udina isn't very happy about it."
"Right, unfortunate," Cayden responds. Udina is the one person in the galaxy he doesn't want to think about. Udina's ugly face worms its way into Cayden's mind anyway, chastising him in his usual self-important, patronizing fashion. Cayden shudders. Quick! Think of anything else! Cayden's mind is flooded with pornographic scenes of a woman he met last week. Not ideal, but better than Udina. And with that, Udina is back. Damn.
"We're going to keep this brief," the Illusive Man continues, seemingly sensing Cayden's brain going into overdrive in a civil war between being yelled at by his superior and a random woman he brought back to his apartment after a night at a nearby club. "Your position has become too tenuous to be reliable any longer," the Illusive Man explains. "Udina isn't happy about a military liaison shooting an Alliance soldier, even if it was self-defense." The Illusive Man's mention of Udina gives him the push he needs to complete his invasion of Cayden's conscious thoughts and Cayden sighs with acceptance. "Not to mention C-Sec is going to be watching you like a hawk from now on."
"Are you breaking up with me, then?" Cayden asks sarcastically.
"Of course not," the Illusive Man answers, once again willfully ignoring Cayden's snideness. "This might be a blessing in disguise, I've always thought your talents were being wasted as a bureaucrat."
"There really isn't enough gunfire around here," Cayden responds.
The Illusive man smiles. "Let's remedy that. I know you'll need to speak with Udina, but I'm sure you will find him more than happy to let you get out of his hair. I'll have a representative of Cord-Hislop meet you on the docks of Zakera Ward. I'm forwarding the details now. Illusive Man out." The video cuts out and Cayden smirks as he receives a notification. He navigates to his mailbox and opens it.
Welcome to Cord-Hislop Aerospace, the galactic leader in aeronautics standards. We would like to congratulate you on your new job as a Security Consultant. You will be provided with a ship and crew to facilitate completion of your responsibilities; which will be provided to you tomorrow at noon at the docks of Zakera Ward. You will be provided with additional details at that time. Please direct any inquiries to the C-H handler assigned to you at the aforementioned time and place. Thank you for your interest in this position and welcome to Cord-Hislop.
Cayden raises his eyebrow thoughtfully. Cord-Hislop is a front for Cerberus, apparently. Not really that surprising. Cayden glances back at the screen and sees a message from Udina. A chill runs up his spine.
Commander Hill,
Your presence is requested at my office at your earliest possible convenience.
The message is punctuated at the end by a signature from Udina and a list of office times. Great. Well, better just get it out of the way. Disappearing off-station without keeping Udina in the loop would have more consequences than it's worth. He can wait, though. Cayden needs some time to himself after the last few weeks.
The next morning, Cayden leaves his apartment with a single briefcase and a pistol tucked in his jacket pocket. He makes his way across the Citadel to Ambassador Udina's office. The receptionist is an attractive, brown-haired lady dressed in casual business wear. He contemplates trying his luck with her, but she recognizes him immediately.
"Mr. Hill!" she says excitedly. "It's an honor to have you here again. Ambassador Udina just arrived before you. I'll check with him and see if he's available." Cayden smiles at her as she disappears into Udina's office. After a short moment, she returns and beckons him in. "You can leave your briefcase here if you like," she coos at him. He shrugs his shoulders and sets it down next to her desk before entering Udina's office.
Across the room, Udina is hunched over his terminal. "Take a seat, Hill," he says without even looking up from the screen. Cayden sighs and complies, shifting uncomfortably in the old-style chair. "Nasty business with Lieutenant Sullivan." He doesn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular. This guy just radiates 'asshole'. Cayden nods, putting on his best poker face. Udina looks up at him over the screen that Cayden is using as a buffer against Udina's aura of superiority. "Well, not an ideal situation, obviously. C-Sec isn't happy with you at all at the moment. It would probably be best if we discontinued your position as a military liaison for the time being."
"Tragic," Cayden responds sarcastically. He shifts a little uncomfortably. "Well it just so happens I have an outstanding job offer for Cord-Hislop as a Security Consultant. I will take it as long as you think it's prudent to leave the Citadel." Udina raises an eyebrow. Cayden puts on his best diplomacy tone. "I have been cleared of wrongdoing by C-Sec. I'd rather not just sit on my hands for an extended period of time. I will leave contact information with your secretary."
Udina nods slowly and thoughtfully. "I do think it would be wise to make yourself scarce on the Citadel for the time being. C-Sec is bound to be watching you closely. Luckily for me, since Lieutenant Sullivan was human, the other embassies are leaving this matter under Alliance scrutiny." Udina looks back to his screen. "And luckily for you, due to the overwhelming amount of evidence that Lieutenant Sullivan was the aggressor, Alliance command is leaving it up to me as Ambassador to make a decision regarding your culpability."
"And what is your decision on that matter?" Cayden responds, mimicking the overly formal tone of the Ambassador.
"I must agree with C-Sec based on the gathered information," Udina answers plainly. "Take the job with Cord-Hislop, make yourself vacant from the Citadel for the time being, and leave me with information to contact you." Cayden rises from his chair and offers the Ambassador an almost mocking salute. Udina sighs.
"If there's nothing else, I'd rather not be late for my rendezvous with the Cord-Hislop rep," Cayden says matter-of-factly. Thank God there's a reason to cut this meeting as short as possible. Every second spent in close proximity with Udina increases the likelihood Cayden will decide it's worth it to punch his face in. Udina nods in agreement and Cayden takes his leave, gathering his briefcase from the secretary. She looks up at him and blushes slightly when he smiles his wide, toothy grin down at her.
Cayden grabs a taxi to Zakera Ward and lands a short walk away from the docks. He has plenty of time remaining, but doesn't really have anything else on his agenda, so just slowly makes his way toward the docks in a quiet shuffle. He walks past a set of advertisements broadcasting on a giant set of screens. Nearby in front of a used ship storefront, a quarian is arguing loudly with a C-Sec officer. Cayden hesitates for a moment, curses himself in his head, then sighs and interjects himself into the situation.
"I'm not stealing you bosh-tet!" the quarian yells at the turian officer. She crosses her arms and shifts her weight onto one leg, sticking her hip out. "This is the second time this week you assholes have accused me of stealing." Her enviro-suit is a spectrum of drab cream and brown. The hood over her helmet has an intricate design woven into the dark brown fabric. The suit hugs her form, accentuating her wide quarian hips and slight build. The visor on her helmet is very foggy, only slightly betraying her bright eyes and obscuring her facial features. As Cayden approaches, the turian notices him and raises his hand.
"This is a C-Sec matter, sir," the turian says to Cayden. He turns his attention back to the quarian. "So, we agree there is a pattern of behavior?" The quarian sighs with exasperation. These C-Sec officers are always throwing their weight around the Citadel, especially against quarians. They probably get off on the power trip of feeling superior to an already beaten-down people. It seems like the turians are the worst. The turian C-Sec officers always seem a bit too excited to put someone who isn't turian behind bars.
"What's going on?" Cayden asks, setting his briefcase down as he stands next to the quarian, confidently exuding authority. The quarian's gaze is entirely focused on him. It seems like she is trying to ascertain his motives with cautious optimism.
"This is a C-Sec matter, as I said," the turian repeats as sternly as he can muster.
"Well, as she is my employee, I feel like I am a part of this situation whether I like it or not." The quarian cleverly hides any surprise she might have at Cayden's words.
"This quarian is your employee?" the turian inquires with a slight tinge of caution. All it takes is a little show of authority to put these C-Sec cops on their back foot. The quarian sighs with exasperation.
"This quarian has a name!" she says with clear irritation. "I told you, my name is Lia'Vael nar Ulnay!" She puts her head into her hands and shakes it slowly back and forth.
"She's an engineer on my ship," Cayden responds sternly. "What has she allegedly stolen?"
"Nothing!" Lia interjects. The turian looks at her, then back at Cayden defensively.
"Well?" Cayden says expectantly. He taps his foot with irritation, attempting to pressure the turian.
"Well," the turian begins hesitantly, "I'm not quite sure. I'm following up on a report."
"So, let me get this straight," Cayden begins, crossing his arms and twisting his face with frustration, "You have accused this woman of theft without any evidence that anything has even been stolen?" The turian starts to answer, but Lia interrupts him.
"You're just coming after me because I'm a quarian just like everyone else around here! It's disgusting!" she accuses.
The turian, clearly outnumbered and without actual cause, puts his hands up in surrender. "Look, why don't you just get her out of here?" he responds. He turns on his heels and quickly makes himself scarce. He must have known who Cayden is, he gave up entirely too easily.
As soon as he is out of earshot, Lia turns to Cayden. "Thanks, that's the second time this week some C-Sec asshole has accused me of stealing." She studies Cayden up and down and fixates on the N7 patch on his jacket. "You're an N7?" He nods in confirmation. "That's crazy!" she says. She is almost giddy. "The last time I was helped out by an N7 also! Do you know Commander Shepard?"
Cayden nods. "Shepard was actually my commanding officer for a while, although we have fallen out of touch as we went our separate ways after I entered the ICT program."
"That's so cool! I can't believe I met two of you guys in a week. Are you also a Spectre?" Cayden scoffs.
"Hardly," he says with a quick laugh. "I don't think I'm the kind of person they would tap for that. I'm not quite the boy scout Shepard is."
"My name is Lia'Vael nar Ulnay," Lia says, offering her hand to him. Cayden takes it and gives it a good shake. Jeez, she has a hell of a grip. He hides his surprise and the little bit of pain in his hand. "But," she begins, releasing his hand, "I suppose you already heard that."
"Cayden Hill," Cayden answers with his trademarked grin. He thinks for a second as she seemingly studies him. "Hey, do you want to actually come work for me? My ship could use an engineer and I could use someone with experience in ship repair."
"What is that supposed to mean?" She crosses her arms defensively. "Do you think all quarians are good at ship repair?"
Cayden treads lightly. "I meant no offense. You're hanging around a used ship storefront. Plus, all quarians do have some experience in ship repair, it's kind of a necessity on the Migrant Fleet. If you aren't particularly fond of being an engineer, I'm sure we could find something else you would be amenable to."
She uncrosses her arms, "Well, those are all true I suppose."
Cayden smirks and can tell she is almost convinced. Just a little push. She really needs to get out of here for her own safety. "Plus, there's no doubt you can find something for your pilgrimage. Not to mention, I can pay you well."
"You know about the pilgrimage?" she asks, disarmed. Cayden nods.
"Of course, you're welcome to stay here instead," he motions around them, then motions towards the C-Sec officer, who had stopped just a few dozen meters away. "They do seem to be quite fond of you." Lia snickers.
"Who do you work for?" she asks. Hook, line, sinker.
"Cord-Hislop Aerospace. I'm a security consultant."
"What is that?" she asks with genuine interest.
"I fly between systems and assess the security of Cord-Hislop installations." She nods with satisfaction. "Some of my crew may be a little unwelcoming, but they will listen to me and it won't be as bad as C-Sec. Plus, we can drop you off somewhere a little more welcoming to quarians if you feel uncomfortable."
"You know what? Anything is better than here," she crosses her arms again. "But this better be on the up-and-up. I can take care of myself if you try something." Her accent is light, but noticeable. It's kind of adorable when she gets confident.
"Well, you can always shoot me and steal my ship," he responds with a grin. She laughs.
"You're the captain right?"
"Well, I guess that's one way to describe it. I do command the ship, but I prefer the title 'Emperor'". She laughs again. Her laugh is very rhythmic and intense. It's quite soothing in its familiarity, although the memories it drags out cause a tinge of pain. "Can you leave now?" Cayden asks. She seems a bit surprised by the suddenness. "I was actually on my way to the dock." He punctuates his point by picking up his briefcase and waving it in the air.
"I mean, yeah, I guess," she responds with a little hesitance.
"Perfect! Let's grab your stuff and go," Cayden says, attempting to show some positivity to reinforce her.
She wrings her hands. "...I…..don't own anything….."
"Traveling light," he muses, "that's a solid strategy." She looks at him and her eyes widen. She is smiling. Her face might be obscured, but he can see it in her eyes. He motions toward the entrance of the dock and they make their way toward it. Cayden waves at the C-Sec officer as they pass by. The turian glares at him as Cayden turns his attention away.
After a short walk, they approach the C-Sec checkpoint and they are waved over by a human officer seated at a desk. His monitor is full of a constant stream of information. "Name?" he asks without looking up from his terminal.
"Commander Cayden Hill," Cayden says through clenched teeth. He is sick of all the focus placed on titles. The C-Sec officer peers up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"No kidding?" he replies, rhetorically. He types into the terminal frantically. "Captain Bailey," he identifies himself. Cayden nods, unsure of what he's supposed to say. Bailey looks expectantly at Lia.
"Oh, uh, Lia'Vael nar Ulnay," Lia says in compliance after snapping out of her own thoughts.
"One moment." Bailey swipes his hands frantically around the holographic interface of his monitor. "Ah, yes, here. I've got you. Former Alliance. ICT graduate. Cord-Hislop security. Quite a resume."
"Speaking of resumes, would you mind updating mine while you're there? It seems like you've got all the information you need," Cayden quips.
Bailey squints at the monitor, ignoring him. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. "Just released from C-Sec yesterday, that's a bit suspicious." Cayden begins to open his mouth as Lia looks at him wide-eyed. "But," Bailey continues, "It says here you have clearance from Udina? Friends in high places….."
"Friends is a much too strong description of our relationship….." Cayden says.
"It seems C-Sec doesn't ONLY go after quarians after all," Lia remarks snidely. Cayden snickers.
"I'm telling you, they just like you," Cayden responds. "Maybe you're just especially cute."
Lia is clearly taken aback by his comment. "I thought I told you no funny stuff," she says coyly. She shifts her weight, "I guess I'll let that one slide because it was weirdly kind of sweet."
Bailey looks at the pair. "This is truly touching, but let's get back to business. You know, you are the second N7 to come through here recently. That's a bit odd. Are you guys on a mission together or something?"
"Definitely not," Cayden responds, "but it's not like I can tell you if we are." Better leave a bit of mystery.
"Of course, the other one was a dead Spectre as well," Bailey continues.
"Well, I'm not dead or a Spectre as far as I know," Cayden answers back.
"Alright, alright," Bailey responds, waving his hand. "What about you?" he asks Lia.
"I was just hired on as an engineer," she responds proudly.
Bailey types for a second, then swipes a few more times. "Just need information for the record, on your way then."
"Thanks," Cayden says. Lia follows him as he walks through the security gates and onto the dock.
