Chapter 7: Descent
AN: Small bit of trivia for anyone imagining what an older Whitley sounds like in this story, he sounds like the Sith Warrior from Star Wars: The Old Republic. Keep that in mind as I ruthlessly steal the Sith Warrior's one liners for future chapters of this story, XD.
Citadel, Huerta Memorial Hospital, 2176 A.D
Five Days After The Skyllian Blitz
Whitley sighed in frustration. For the past few hours, he'd busied himself with trying to piece together the fragments of data he'd been able to find from the slavers that had died in Elysium and the survivors of the Skyllian Blitz. Despite the fact that thousands on both sides had died, Whitley was having a great deal of difficulty trying to figure out where the slavers had gone. All he had so far was a few coordinates that pointed towards a system in Outer Council Space.
Fat lot of good that does! There's five different clusters in that area, and I guarantee that the Batarians wouldn't be stupid enough to come to the Citadel!
Whitley rubbed his eyes. Ever since he'd made his declaration a few days ago, he hadn't had a decent night's sleep. Getting up from the waiting area, Whitley walked towards his sister's room. Hannah stood outside the room, sipping on a cup of coffee. She spotted her son walking towards her.
"I was wondering when you'd be coming here. She's been asking for you all morning."
Whitley paused. "Really?" he asked.
Hannnah nodded. "Really."
Whitley wrung his hands, unsure of what to do, before taking a breath and walking into the room. Jane, noticing her brother walking in, smiled at the silver-haired Shepard.
"Have you seen the vids lately? Apparently, they're calling you the Hero of Elysium." Whitley remarked.
Jane chuckled. "Oh god. Seriously?"
Whitley smiled. "What's wrong with that? My big sister deserves all the praise she can get, after she just saved an entire colony."
Jane's smile slipped into a frown. "I didn't do it alone." she replied quietly.
Whitley winced. He'd heard the fates of the volunteer forces that had died to the Batarians, thanks to his sister's black box. Their deaths were anything but pleasant, and his sister had to hear each of them die one by one.
And yet, she survived. It doesn't matter to me whether she survived by skill or luck, but does it matter to her?
Whitley sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been thinking, when you get out of this hospital, you and I could head to the Silversun Strip."
Jane smirked, turning to her brother. "The Arcade, huh? Ready to lose to me in Shattered Eezo again?"
Whitley chuckled. "I've been practicing. I'm certain that this time, I'll beat you."
"Congrats, bro. If you win, that'll only be….what, 56 - 1?"
Whitley shook his head. "Always the competitive one, aren't you, Jane?"
Citadel, 2176 A.D, Lower Wards
One Week After The Skyllian Blitz
With a flick of a finger, Whitley activated a blowtorch.
His new project demanded his complete attention. Nothing else mattered in the moment.
However, as Whitley got to work, his mind couldn't help but wander. How was he going to do this? How was he going to go after the bastards that had hurt his sister? He was only one man, a teenager, at that. He wasn't a soldier like Jane and Hannah. Hell, he'd never even fired a gun before, or taken a life.
That doesn't matter now. Focus on the task at hand. Find them first, then worry about what to do.
Whitley's new project was, in simple terms, a signal decrypter that would take in the various bits of data he'd been able to recover in the Skyllian Blitz, and then (hopefully) be able to show the location of the slaver's hideout on a galaxy map. If not that, then it would at least be able to give a location on one of the groups that had attacked Elysium. Whitley had already done the heavy lifting in the software department (the bags under his eyes could attest to that). All that was left now was the hardware.
Whitley paused in his work to observe his environment. He shuddered in disgust. He didn't want to raise any suspicions of what he was actually working on to either Ekol, Hannah, or Jane, so he'd been forced to work in secret in a small apartment in the Lower Wards.
Believe it or not, it was as filthy as it looked.
At least the landlord was nice. Rita, I think her name was.
After a few hours of work, Whitley took off the small goggle patch he'd placed over his non-cybernetic eye.
Maybe I should do myself a favor and get rid of the other eye?
In front of Whitley stood a large black device, with various antennas poking out of it. Whitley rubbed his hands together.
"Let's hope this works." he muttered, before activating the device. The various lights on the device blinked, signaling that it was on. Whitley, in response, waved his omni-tool at the device. With the program and device working now to piece the data, Whitley changed out of his "work clothes" and put on his trademark black turtleneck and dark blue jeans. As Whitley was about to exit the room, he remembered a few important things.
Whitley shook his head, trying to get himself back into the real world. To recap.
His name wasn't Whitley Shepard here in the Lower Wards. He'd registered himself as William Seras.
To help with this, he had dyed his hair black, allowing his natural silver hair to only appear in small streaks on the side.
He'd even gone as far as to change the color of his cybernetic iris to a dark red, giving him a more unique look due to his new heterochromia.
He'd disguised his cybernetic arm with a glove and his long sleeves.
With his head clear, Whitley walked out of the door. As he walked out of the door, Whitley ran into Rita.
"Hey, William! Almost didn't see you there!"
"Hello, Rita. How can I help you?" Whitley replied.
"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just wondering how you were doing, is all."
"I'm fine, I've just been busy. There's a lot of work to be done."
"I bet. Hey, listen, my sister and I are planning to go to a vid tonight. I was wondering, if you wanted to...umm...come with us and watch it?" Rita asked, nervously tapping her fingers together.
Whitley looked at her for a few seconds, perplexed.
"I'm flattered, Rita, but why are you asking me? I'm not really fond of watching vids that much. Besides, I'm very busy tonight. I'm just taking a break while waiting for some data I need to finish downloading."
Rita looked downwards. "Right, right. Sorry. Didn't mean to corner you like that."
She looks really disappointed right now. I wonder why she is suddenly so discouraged when I refused her offer.
Whitley shrugged, before opening the door of the complex. "I hope you enjoy that movie with your sister, Rita." he stated, before walking out of the complex.
As Whitley walked the halls of the Lower Wards, he couldn't help but stare at the various criminal dealings that were going on in broad daylight.
A turian, most likely noticing his staring, started walking up to him.
"What're you looking at?" the turian asked gruffly.
"Nothing." Whitley replied. He had no desire to start a fight, not when they had guns and he only had his cybernetic arm.
The turian looked over at him with a critical eye. "Wait a second, I know you."
Oh hell. How did his disguise fall apart this quickly?!
The turian rubbed his chin for a few moments in thought. "You're the one that knocked out my brother's teeth a year ago! Whitley Shepard, wasn't it?!"
"You must be mistaken." Whitley quickly replied, trying not to break eye contact with the man.
The Turian glared at him. "You knocked out eight of my brother's teeth with that robotic hand of yours! I'd know that face anywhere! It's the face that set me back 10,000 credits!"
"That much? In that case, not that I was there or anything, but wouldn't it have been better to just leave your brother with all those broken teeth?" Whitley couldn't help but ask.
His mouth always did have the habit of landing him in trouble. This couldn't be more prevalent than in his current situation. The turian snarled, before backhanding Whitley. Flying backwards a few feet, Whitley shook his head, noticing that the turian was charging at him. More out of desperate reflex than anything else, Whitley found his cybernetic arm reaching out to form an uppercut. Before Whitley knew what was even happening, the turian flew a few feet backwards, spitting out a few teeth.
"Well, would you look at that? Now you and your brother match." Whitley remarked, smirking.
The turian growled, before pulling out a Carnifex pistol. He barely had any time to aim it before the deafening BOOM of a shotgun echoed in the Wards. The turian went flying backwards, blood splattering all over the floor.
Whitley found himself automatically turning to where the sound had come from, only to be met by the sight of some kind of….dinosaur creature, adorned in red armor, with a few scars crossing it's face.
Krogan. His mind supplied. He'd seen the creature in Hannah's computer terminal long ago, but the holographic pictures didn't do the species justice. The krogan oozed intimidation from every pore. Whitley found himself instinctively taking a step back.
"Pulling a gun on an unarmed kid? That's low, even for a turian." the krogan remarked, before turning to Whitley. "I saw that punch. Pretty impressive reflexes back there."
"Thanks." Whitley replied, still slightly shocked at the casual murder that had taken place right in front of his eyes.
Note to self. Start wearing down that tongue of mine, before it ends up getting me arrested or flung into space or...something.
Whitley shook his head, noticing that the krogan was leaving.
"Wait. Who...who are you?"
The krogan turned to face him.
"Name's Wrex. Try not to piss off the next bunch of criminals you see, kid."
And with that, Wrex walked away.
A Few Hours Later
Whitley banged his fist on the table, his frustration mounting.
The device he'd made was working just fine. It was pointing him towards the nebula where the slavers seemed to be operating out of. The problem?
The decrypter couldn't pinpoint the data any further. It couldn't specify the planet where they were hiding.
Then again, I rigged this up within two days. Maybe if I spent a week on it, I'd be able to get it properly working.
To make matters worse, the decrypter had pointed them towards a nebula that was quite the cause for concern.
The Serpent Nebula.
Whitley double checked the galaxy map he'd bought up on his omni-tool. Looking over it reaffirmed what he already knew. There were only two important places in the Serpent Nebula that the pirates would be willing to utilize.
Boltzman.
And the Citadel.
Whitley rubbed his eyes. Earlier, he'd just been willing to build the decrypter and give the Batarian's location to the Alliance. Now?
He didn't know what he'd do if he discovered that the Batarians might be right there, on the Citadel.
Would he still be willing to give the Alliance or C-Sec the data?
Or would he try taking matters into his own hands?
One side of him kept reminding him that he wasn't some hardened warrior, that he'd most likely die trying to take matters into his own hands. Another side of him didn't care. It wanted blood, and it now had the opportunity.
"This is madness." Whitley whispered quietly to himself. He took another look at the decrypter.
He could try modifying it to further triangulate the location, but that would mean untangling his code and almost starting from scratch. Such an endeavor could take a few more days, maybe even a week! That time was something he didn't have, not if the slaver's really were in the Citadel.
As Whitley wondered what to do next, he took a look out the window, before getting distracted by the various lights on the large tower in front of him.
C-Sec certainly doesn't find themselves lacking when it comes to their budget. That antenna's gigantic!
Whitley froze.
That was it!
Suddenly, an explosion went off on the door of the apartment. Stunned, Whitley didn't have enough time to react before the butt of an assault rifle hit his head. Lying on the floor, Whitley was greeted to the sight of a Batarian leering at him. Whitley glared at him, refusing to beg or to close his eyes.
So this is how it ends. Sorry, mom.
A deafening BANG echoed through the room. Whitley flinched, but soon realized that he didn't see the Batarian's rifle go off. Turning his head, Whitley was greeted by the sight of a raven haired woman in a white and black catsuit, holding a smoking Predator pistol.
"Looks like I arrived just in time." she remarked.
On a Space Station Deep Within the Horsehead Nebula, One Day Earlier
A man in a silver chair looked over the video feeds in front of him, taking a drag out of a cigarette.
Long ago, he was known as Jack Harper. He had fought in the First Contact War on Shanxi, and had realized how fragile humanity's place was on the galactic scene. After seeing the horrors of an enemy that he knew that the Council and the Alliance could never defeat, he had published a manifesto, warning his species that an alien attempt at human genocide was inevitable. The manifesto called for an army - a Cerberus to guard against invasion through the Charon relay.
His name had changed over the course of the past few decades after the war, but his goal was still the same. To protect humanity against those that would harm them. And now, the Illusive Man saw someone that could possibly share in his vision. Someone worth investigating and possibly bringing into the fold.
Pressing a button on his chair, the Illusive Man was greeted by the face of one of his best operatives.
"Miranda, I have a new task for you."
As the Illusive Man briefed his operative, the video of a white haired teenager gathering various bits of scrap continued to play in the background.
AN: Miranda and Wrex enter the scene!
Yeah, so Whitley's disguise fell apart pretty quickly. In his defense, he's pretty new at playing spy.
Sorry for the wait, guys. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
