Chapter 19. Decay Products
5. March 2390 AD, Citadel, Lower Wards
Alec walked through the narrower corridors of the apartment complex that had been built on the Lower Wards, his eyes scanning the numbers on each door to find the one he was looking for, A-8-14.
The air recycling in this particular part of the Lower Wards, mostly due to the apartments being rather expensive considering the area they were in, was better than in the area around Chora's Den and other clubs. While it didn't compare to the quality delivered by the atmospheric scrubbers installed on the Presidium, it was still much better than during the last time he had traveled to this particular part of the giant space station that served as the center of galactic cooperation.
The Citadel might have been the fraction of the size of a planet but it still displayed all shades of quality of life, something one couldn't say about Arcturus. The human-made space station might be smaller, less sophisticated and more fragile but it lacked any sorts of slum-like areas. It also lacked creepy, green insects acting as its janitors. Alec, still not really certain what about them was giving him the creeps, stared at the being traveling through the apartment complex, focused on a task only it knew about.
"2-0 for Arturus," Alec said as he looked behind him to ensure the bug didn't get any ideas.
The doors passed by him, "A-8-10, A-8-11, A-8-12," he read the signs as he kept walking. "A-8-13." Turning his head to the left, he finally had reached his destination, "A-8-14. Wasn't so hard now, was it," he told himself as he ignored the fact that it had taken him the better part of an hour to even get here, the shortage of room causing the Lower Wards to be built like some sort of labyrinth, buildings mere meters away from each other in terms of distance were separated by hundreds of meters in terms of walking.
Even Rapid Transit could only get you that far on the Citadel.
He double checked the address on his omni-tool and flicked the safety off of the SIS-8 hidden in his waistband. He had decided to load it with armor-penetrating rounds just in case this elcor was not just 'rude' in the way of typical behaviour but also in the way he suspected someone giving work to mercenaries to be 'rude'.
If this Hartan got any ideas, he'd need to be quick. While elcor lacked traditional means of hand to hand combat, they were still natives to a world with high gravity, giving them incredible strength and resilience even compared to the krogan. Fighting him would be the absolute last option. For now he'd just stick to playing his role as a private investigator while counting that this Hartan was just as much of a pacifist as the other elcor he had met.
He rang the doorbell and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Then, after nearly three minutes and several attempts, the doors hissed open.
"Annoyed, what do you want?" the dark-brown elcor wearing a blue 'carpet' over his back asked.
"Are you Hartan?"
"Mildly Confused, yes. Why are you here?" Hartan replied in the monotone typical for his race.
"I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding Itari Zikrian," Alec replied.
"Irritated, I am currently working. Come back later," the elcor said as it took a step back in an attempt to close the door.
It was far too slow to lock Alec out as the specialist used the gap to step inside. He knew elcor were territorial. This move was sure to piss him off but it was his best play right now. Elcor were after all rather slow thinking.
"You see, that's gonna have to wait," he explained. "She was found dead on a freighter and right about now you're one of the last people to have seen her alive. You're also the reason she got that job in the first place and since I was hired to look into this, I'll make you answer my questions."
"Angry, human step out of my home or I will call C-SEC."
"Now you should think about that one Hartan. Right about now you either speak to me, who doesn't care about the fact that you run an unregistered business or you go and call C-SEC and once they get here I let them know of your little operation."
Checking up on the elcor had been worth it. He got a lot of money for his work. Money no one beside him knew off. To put it short, the elcor was committing tax evasion on a scale that would give him a lot of trouble.
"What's it gonna be?"
"Frustrated, I will answer your questions."
"Great. First of you need to tell me if you actually gave her that job. Did you?"
"Earnest, Yes. I forwarded the assignment to Itari. She was one of my more frequent clients."
"Where you given the details of the job?"
"Explanatory, I only receive information such as the amount of credits the contractors are paid on completion or the people they are supposed to contact for further details," the elcor said.
"So you're basically just a living small ad?" Alec sighed upon the realisation. This guy wasn't the middleman, he was just a way for the actual middleman to make his trail even harder to follow.
Great.
"Insulted, my work is very important. Proud, I collect information on the people asking me to forward their job requests."
"So you can give me the name of the guy that put out this particular mission," Alec figured. "Let's hear it."
"Deflecting, I do not betray the trust of my clie-"
"Fine, let me just call C-SEC. They'll love to lock up yet another tax-evading assho-", Alec began as his omni-tool came to live.
"Panicked, don't. I will cooperate. According to my research, the person that put out the request was Barla Von."
"You managed to listen in on his comm-feed?" Alec guessed.
"Earnest, no. I contacted another information broker," that made more sense.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about Barla Von?"
"Explanatory, he is a volus working from the financial district of the Presidium."
"So he's the financial guy of whoever put out the request," Alec said to himself as he opened his omni-tool and noted the name.
"Panicked, I cooperated, why are you cal-"
"Relax, I just wrote down the name," Alec replied as he raised his hands. "I'm a man of my word. I'll be on my way now. I've got what I came for," he promised as he slowly backed out of the door. "I'd hate to come back so if there's anything else, now's the time."
The elcor simply stared at him, its small, black eyes narrowing even more as it glanced to its side, an orange hologram on its front leg activating and the door closing in front of Alec's face mere seconds later.
"Lying, have a good day." Hartan called from beyond the door.
"So that's why Alihia called him rude," Alec figured as he walked away.
Six Hours Later, Citadel, Presidium
The night cycle of the Presidium Ring, the part of the Citadel to which the five wards were attached, was slowly closing in. Activity on the well maintained pathways was starting to die down as the Citadel's elite began to head home from their working places, only few businesses and offices still open.
One such building was the one in which Barla Von was working. He specialized in financial advise, or as some would call it money laundering. Whether he was still here because there was actual work left to do or if the volus was simply looking to squeeze out as many credits out of the hour he was still allowed to keep his people here was up to someone besides Alec to judge.
After all, as a specialist he didn't really have fixed working hours he could stick to.
The door to the white building complex opened and a lobby revealed itself to the specialist. It was decorated with plants, chairs, desks and various sources of information regarding the company itself.
In the center of the room, facing the door he had just walked through and in his direct path towards the office of Barla Von an asari secretary was still manning her desk, her eyes glued to a terminal displaying the time. He walked towards it, intending to pretend that he was expected to be somewhere.
She got in the way of that.
"Business offices are closed to costumers after the 16th standard hour," she said in a dull tone as she her eyes stayed glued to the terminal. "You'll have to come back tomorrow sir."
"I'm not really here as a costumer," Alec replied as he leaned on the desk and decided to play nice for now. "I'll only be inside for a few minutes," he said as nice as he could.
"If you don't work here, you can't go inside, I'm sorry. Please feel free to come by tomorrow, we open at the eight standard hour," the secretary said with a bored tone as she turned to actually look at him.
"Really, I only have to speak to Barla Von for a few moments, then I'll be gone. You won't even know I was here," there was some irony in it. He was confident he could've gotten in unnoticed if he wanted. Considering where this conversation was apparently heading, it might have been for the better.
"Sir, I will say it one more time. Come back tomorrow, please don't make me call security," she sighed in frustration.
Time for a change of strategy. If charming didn't work, maybe slight intimidation would.
"I don't think Barla Von would be pleased to hear that you sent away one of his business partners," Alec gambled. He knew it was a cliché but he counted on the asari not knowing it. "Of course you can still call security, I'd just like to know your name so I know who to point at when he asks why the meeting was delayed," it was risky of course. He gambled on the secretary not being too close to any of the people working in the office building, gambled on the fact that she didn't know that Barla Von had no idea who he was.
By the look on her face it wasn't working but when she looked back at the terminal opened her mouth to speak it surprised Alec.
"Actually my shift just ended," she replied with a sudden smile as she grabbed a bag from underneath the table and got up. "This is now officially not my problem. Feel free to do whatever you want. I'd really appreciate it if I don't have to come to work tomorrow, if you catch my drift."
"I'm afraid you'll have to show up," Alec replied confused as he looked after the asari walking out of the front door with new found joy in her life. Apparently this was a horrible place to work at after all.
Shaking his head, he turned back towards the entrance he was now free to walk into, the office of Barla Von coming closer with every step he took through the clean, white, artificially illuminated building.
He came to a stop in front of an already opened door and looked inside a volus in a brown environment suit with white highlights and yellow writing on it typing away at a terminal, his small hands moving at an incredibly fast pace. He chose to observe for a few moments, expecting the volus to acknowledge the stranger in his office.
He didn't. He simply kept working.
"Are you Barla Von?" Alec asked, breaking the silence which before was only interrupted by the sound of the volus breathing apparatus.
"What does an Earth-clan want from me?" he asked without looking away from his holographic screen, sporadic breaths filling the room again. "I am a rather busy man."
"Only a short chat really," Alec replied as he stepped inside the office, the small room was rather spartan compared to other offices he had seen. Instead of overlooking the beautiful scenery of the Presidium through a large window, the furniture consisted of only a desk, two chairs and what Alec assumed to be a server unit behind the volus. Apparently being the turian's client race had left an impact on the volus. The room might as well have belonged to a turian. "Does the name Itari Zikrian ring a bell?"
"I have heard it before," the volus replied as he looked up from the orange hologram, its light reflecting of the white parts of his environment suit. The volus needed to wear these pressurized suits at any given time when interacting in the environment most Citadel species lived in. The high pressure and unique atmosphere of their home world Irune meaning that they'd die if removed from their suits.
Truthfully Alec didn't even know what a volus looked like. He had put off on looking up what the small aliens looked underneath the protective layers that kept them save from an environment that would kill them in moments. Somehow he knew that he did not want to know it.
"You should, its the name of a mercenary who died on a mission you gave out," Alec said as he returned his focus to the task at hand and set down on one of the chairs, coming down to the eye level of the much smaller alien, "I need you to tell me who hired you to hire Hartan to hire them," he said, the structure of the sentence not even drawing a confused 'what' or 'excuse me' from the volus.
Instead he began to chuckle, a chuckle interrupted ever so often by the sound of him needing to breath.
"I can tell you but it won't really help you," the volus replied and drew in another, mechanically filtered breath. "The Shadow Broker asked me to put out the job. He contacted me through a scrambled line and had his signal bounce through multiple comm buoys before actually reaching me. It's effectively untraceable."
"So you're an agent of the Broker? How's that working for you?" the specialist questioned as he made a mental note to inform Harper's task force about this particular case. The volus seemed willing to cooperate.
"One doesn't refuse the Shadow Broker," the volus replied in a sober tone. "I am his agent because there isn't such a thing as a choice in this matter," Barla Von explained. "If he wants you to do something, you either do it or you find your life in ruins soo after. An information broker can do a lot more than just hire a thug to shoot you," the volus reasoned in a seemingly indifferent voice. Apparently he was content with his situation. "In my line of work information can be a blessing and a curse. The Shadow Broker is a questionable ally but he is an even more terrible foe," the volus went on. "It is working for me because the alternative is much worse Earth-clan."
"Did you know any details about the job?" Alec asked while keeping the comment about the volus's integrity to himself. "Location, duration, risk assessment, objectives?"
"Why do you want to know?" the volus countered.
"I'm a private investigator. I was hired by the shipping company to look into their missing vessel," Alec replied sticking to his cover story.
"Since when do shipping companies hire human embassy staff as private investigators?" the volus replied as he turned off his terminal, the orange reflections on his suit disappearing. "I only know that it was an asset protection operation headed for Elysium," Barla Von answered. "The Shadow Broker wanted mercenaries to protect a shipment of interest, I got him his mercenaries. I didn't know that they'd die, Earth-clan," there was a hint of guilt in his voice. He'd use that.
"Why this shipment?" Alec replied, well aware that the volus had just demolished his cover story. This called for yet another change of strategy. The second time today.
"Why does the Shadow Broker do anything? More power," the volus simply deflected. "His reasons are as much of an enigma as his identity. One day he helps the Council prevent a terrorist attack, the other day he sells the terrorists patrol schedules," Barla Von chuckled. "Personally however I see this as evidence that the Shadow Broker isn't a single person but rather a group. It would explain some of the contradicting things he's done in the past."
"What does the Shadow Broker have to gain from smuggling things on a human colony?" Alec pressed on while considering the volus's suggestion. A group of people would certainly explain how the Shadow Broker was able to coordinate his massive network of agents.
"You are under the impression that I know more than I actually do," the volus replied. "The Shadow Broker works on a need-to-know system, I told you what I needed to know. I can't tell you his ultimate goal, if there even is one."
"You obviously have some idea of who I am," Alec said, receiving a nod from the volus as he stepped closer and leaned on the financial advisor's desk, looking down at the smaller alien. "Don't make me come back."
"I have no reason to lie to you, I told you everything I was made aware of," Barla Von replied as he understood Alec's underlying threat. "But before you go, I do have a piece of advise."
"I'm listening," the specialist replied. This conversation, while strange, had given him surprising insight into the Shadow Broker.
"Don't get on the Broker's bad side, people who end up there tend to be short lived. There's a reason why the Council considers him such a threat and that reason is completely justified," Barla Von spoke. "There's a salarian saying, 'Knowledge can fell even the most powerful empire'. Not even the fanciest armor or the best training will protect you if he strikes where you least expect it. Watch yourself Earth-clan."
"I'll keep it in mind," Alec replied as he stepped away from the desk and turned towards the door. "If anyone asks, we discussed financial details," he instructed.
"Of course Earth-clan. Always a pleasure to do business with you."
7. March 2390 AD, Arcturus Station
"So you'll contact one of the Shadow Broker's agents under the guise of looking for work." the director of Section 13, his immediate superior, questioned the former Spectre standing next to Redford. "And then, when he's there, we'll jump him and and make him talk about the connection between this incident and his boss. Why he's doing all of this and how we can get him off our back permanently," the director of Section 13 summarized as her projected figure turned towards Redford. "This sounds like a solid plan to you, La Qila?"
"It's better than nothing," Redford shrugged. "We already know that the Shadow Broker was involved with at least one attempt of smuggling Cobalt onto Elysium. At this point we can't do worse than piss him off some more."
"Ignoring the fact that we'd put a political refugee and valuable source of intelligence in harms way, what are the chances of it even working in the first place?" she questioned as she looked at Tela. "If I were in his shoes, I'd be more than suspicious that you suddenly want to switch sides again. You've been working with us for almost two years and doing so very publicly mind you. Why would you only reach out now?"
"I didn't have the means to communicate until recently," the asari with blue skin and purple facial tattoos explained as she began to narrate her cover story,"I played along until I saw an opportunity. Then, over the course of months, I managed to seduce my personal guard and used him to escape from Arcturus. We stole a shuttle, I ditched him as soon as possible and went to hide on Omega. The HSA kept it quiet to avoid a major blow to its credibility and I used the last few weeks to improve my position."
"It's not your story that I'm doubting, it's the gut feeling of the Shadow Broker that I'm respecting," the director said. "He's worked with you before, he knows you could've done something like that earlier. I know that I wouldn't take the chance and I think that a person wanted in the entire galaxy wouldn't do it either."
"Instead of looking at the chance of it working, we should look at what else we can really do," Redford reasoned. "Every day we spent fumbling in the dark is another day for the IFS to grow stronger with this guy's help," the specialist said. "Besides the lead on the Citadel turned up nothing besides the knowledge that the Shadow Broker does in fact have an issue with us and that some of his agents like spilling their guts. What else can we do really? Sit around and wait for something to happen?" Redford countered.
"How exactly would you set this meeting up?" she questioned as she ran a hand along her chin, thinking.
"I'd ask to meet one of his personal agents. They are the few people who have a direct link to him. Normally the Broker works through a chain of middleman but they are different. We'd set up a time and spot and talk in person before separating," Tela replied. "Just like we usually did on Illium in the past."
"There is an issue with the Illium part," the director said before turning back to Redford. "Ever since the little stunt Praetorian and you pulled, Ms. Vasir and her two 'unknown accomplices' are wanted criminals on Illium. Authorities offer quite the amount of credits for any leads that would lead to your capture."
"The Shadow Broker isn't afraid to send someone to Omega," Tela replied. "He isn't particularly attached to most of his agents really.
"And then, given that he actually goes for it, we bag whoever he sends? That's bound to raise some attention." the director replied.
"Someone being kidnapped on Omega isn't exactly something unusual," the asari argued.
"Surely they won't come alone given how dangerous that rock can be."
"No the Shadow Broker will most likely sent an agent and that agent will hire a bunch of mercs," Tela answered. "It's how I met that batarian," the asari said as she turned to Redford. "You know the one yo-"
"Yes I remember. She can handle herself ma'am. I just feel sorry for whoever that agent hires." Redford argued. "Besides, I'd like to be there anyway, alongside the field team."
"In case this all goes south?" the director questioned.
"Partially," Redford replied in a more casual tone. "Tela's my responsibility," he argued before swiftly adding, "but I also want to be there to see the stupid look on the guy's face when we bag him."
"Permission granted," the director replied dryly. "Don't get another bounty on your head. Omega is less interested in leads than it is in 'wanted, dead or alive'."
"No promises, Ma'am."
"Since Ms. Vasir is not part of Section 13, we can't act within the legal autonomy we were given during the Fringe Wars. I'll have to ask the permission of the Chancellor on this one, he'll have to give the green light before this is happening. Until then you'll stay on Arcturus, understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Redford replied.
"Should we get the green light, I'll arrange for your armor and gear to be delivered to you and for the necessary preparations to be made," the director continued. "I appreciate that you are willing to risk this. I'll contact the chancellor as soon as possible and inform Redford of any developments," she said before turning the projector off on her end causing her blue form to vanish from the briefing room within Arcturus's security hub.
"So now we play the waiting game," Redford sighed as he ran a hand through his short, blond hair.
"I've been waiting for nearly two years, I think I can manage another day," Tela replied as they walked towards the door of the room, Redford pushing it open with one arm in front of them.
"These meetings with an agent of the Broker, how did they usually go down?" he asked as they walked through the grey corridors of the security hub, people in uniforms of all services walking past them.
"We meet in a public place like a club or a shopping center and use the crowd as cover. It's easier to lose someone who's tailing you if there's lots of people around you," she explained. "Once we find each other, we exchange the information and linger some time. Makes it less obvious that way."
"If it doesn't look like just an exchange, it's less likely to draw attention," the specialist reasoned. "Do go on."
"Not much to go on after that, we part ways once we're sure no one followed us, the agent goes back to the Broker, I take care of the job. Once all is said and done, I get the intel I asked for and use it to play the hero."
"You've made quite a few deals with the guy, haven't you?" he asked as he turned to look at her.
"Too many," Tela replied. "Working for the Broker is, how do you say, 'a two-sided blade'?"
"Double-edged sword," he corrected her as they walked out of the security hub, Arturus's artificial sky looming over them as they began to walk to the apartment Tela had been given.
"Anyway it's not exactly something I am proud of," Tela went on as she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light. "Sure, I've saved a lot of people through his information but I've also helped him hurt a lot of people. Not exactly very heroic."
"In our line of work we can't save everyone," Redford replied as they walked across the small square, the guards at the security hub's exit only stopping them for a short few seconds before Redford transmitted his Section 13 clearance. "What matters is that we're on the right side at the end of the day."
The former Spectre grew silent as she considered his words, the door of the apartment building opening with a by now familiar sound as its motion sensors picked them up. The couple walked up the stairs and headed for the elevator. When its doors opened, they stepped inside.
"As far as I'm concerned you were on the right side back then," Redford said as he broke the silence once the elevator began to move.
"Was I?" she countered.
"You still are," he said. "Someone who's on the wrong side wouldn't be willing to risk their own skin for a bunch of strangers. They'd be happy to live their life out in comfort here on Arcturus."
"I'd go mad from boredom," Tela joked as the elevator doors opened up and they stepped outside to continue their walk towards her apartment.
"Hey you could always trash me in Kepesh-Yakshi," Redford chuckled. "Sure, you'd win all the time but eventually I'd be something close to a challenge."
"Your optimism never fails to amuse me,"the asari replied as the door to her apartment opened and she walked inside.
"I'll swing by once I know if this is going down or not," Redford said as he leaned against the doorway.
"I'll be here," Tela shrugged as he turned away and began to walk back to the security hub. There was still work to be done.
8. March 2390 AD, Elysium, Colonial Capital New Illyria
Things had been going smooth ever since the benefactor had offered his help. The device was currently resting on his desk with various wires and components placed next to it, waiting to be added. Only a few pieces were still missing to complete it. Progress had been swift thanks to the benefactor's help. Equipment locked up behind countless security measures had found its way into his hands ever since he had been contacted by him.
There was just one issue.
The single most important part of his project was missing. His signature had been stolen from him. The news that one freighter had been stopped and boarded had caught him off guard. The news of the HSA once more starting to look for him had made things complicated. The news about the cobalt deposit being discovered and seized had done something else entirely.
It had made him angry.
So angry that he had decided to reach out for the benefactor on his own terms. Something the benefactor hadn't been particularly happy about.
"The interference of the hanar assassin was an unexpected turn of events," the altered voice spoke through the communicator. "But its consequences were not unwelcome."
"Not unwelcome? They took all my cobalt from me," Kamarov replied angrily through the communicator, his scrambler firm in place and ensuring he wouldn't be discovered. "Cobalt I need for my masterpiece. This put us back to square one and don't even get me started on the fact that the HSA stepped up their orbital controls. You won't get another freighter through here for months."
"Let me worry about the procurement and secrecy of this operation. For now just focus on your part," the benefactor said.
"My part?" Kamarov questioned. "You promised me to get me the things I need and now you've drawn more attention to me. The HSA is getting closer with every minute we speak," the Butcher argued.
"While they are focused on the believe that you will construct just another bomb using outdated methods, we can prepare an even more devastating blow."
"Just another bomb?" Kamarov repeated. "Outdated methods?" This was an insult to his work. "I thought you were supposed to assist me."
"I've contacted your colleague and we came to the conclusion that different methods could have a more," the benefactor stated before pausing as if he was trying to find a word that wouldn't upset the Butcher of Elysium any further, "effective impact."
"Effective impact?" Kamarov asked. "They are still bleeding from the last time. Ten years ago. I need this coba-"
"You fail to see your role in all of this," the benefactor interrupted him in a sudden, sinister fit of anger. "Know your place or you will find that I am terrible foe to have," he stated as his voice distortion software failed to blend out a distinctively unique, very low tone. A tone Kamarov hadn't heard in any alien ever before.
Anger translated through all species. Known and unknown as it would seem. His benefactor's anger was evident in spite of the now noticeable sound to his voice.
"And what would my role be?" Kamarov replied in a cold tone, his own anger giving way to curiosity. For now.
"While they spent their time chasing your shadow and the trail of cobalt leading into nothing our mutual acquaintance will prepare a strike that will devastate them in more ways than one of your masterpieces ever could."
"This wasn't the deal," Kamarov replied. "You said you'd assist me," he emphasized the last part. "Now you throw that away and go behind my back and have a chat with-" the Butcher interrupted himself.
"My assistance isn't ending. It's changing," the benefactor reasoned. "Right now we need the Surgeon to be a distraction."
"Funny you'd say 'we', I don't recall agreeing to be bait," Andrej Kamarov chuckled.
"The 'we' I was referring to did not include you," the benefactor said, his voice distortion once more revealing the distinct, deep sound he made when talking.
"Then maybe I should just go with what I have right now," Kamarov threatened.
"That way you won't see your work finished. The thought of it alone will keep you from going against my instructions," the benefactor countered. "Know your place or you'll find your masterpiece and yourself within the HSA's hands in mere days."
With that the communicator cut out, leaving Andrej Kamarov alone in his darkened, soundproof apartment. He'd have to have a chat with his 'colleague'. This couldn't stand.
One didn't deny an artist to place the final stroke on his painting.
Kamarov switched the frequency of his communicator and waited the agreed on five rings until the person on the other hand took the call.
"Good morning," he greeted, beginning the pattern.
"Evening actually."
"Whatever. Why are you calling me?"
"Are you busy right now?"
"I'm free to talk."
"What the hell were you thinking when you went behind my back with my benefactor?" Kamarov said as he stressed the 'my' both times.
"I was thinking about the future of our cause. A dirty bomb is an act of terror, we don't need that. We need an act of strength," his contact reasoned.
"So you just decided on throwing me out as bait?" Kamarov spoke. "Our 'benefactor' threatened to rat me out to the HSA if I don't play along. How's that working for us?"
"It's keeping you on a leash," the contact countered. "I've told you before not to overestimate your importance. Our cause is bigger than the two of us and its certainly bigger than one of your masterpieces."
"What are you planning ?" Kamarov asked. "If I'm supposed to be a distraction I deserve to know."
"You'll learn once I require your set of skills, Surgeon," the contact replied enigmatically. "For now I need you to keep your operations on Elysium going."
"I don't like being kept in the dark," the Butcher of Elysium said as he swallowed the desire to lash out.
"I don't like repeating myself," the man countered. "Finish as much of your project as you can and stand by until I contact you. Don't reach out to me, don't reach out to the benefactor. We will contact you. Understood?"
"Yes," he replied as he reminded himself that his work was more important than his anger. "I'll draw as much of their attention as I can."
"Good," the contact replied as the projector turned off.
Andrej Kamarov began disassembling the scrambler and hiding its pieces. As he was about to hide the first part inside the air ducts, an idea manifested itself inside his head which caused him to begin to assemble his scrambler once more.
Putting the pieces back together, he dialed the number of his assistant.
"Bit late for a courtes-"
"Drop the act, the line is secured. Can you talk?" the Butcher interrupted the woman.
"Yes. What do you need me to do, Surgeon?"
"I need you to get me in touch with the most devoted members of our cause. There is something I need them to prepare."
If he was supposed to be a distraction, he'd be one on his own terms.
"Tell them to prepare for a big one."
"I will."
2132 CE, Aephus ,Turian Naval Rally Point
It was that time of the month again. Another threat assessment briefing.
His presence here was a result of the fact that he had missed the briefing regarding Palaven's cluster, the one which he was actually supposed to attend since the Blackwatch was a legion assigned to the turian's home world, not Aephus's cluster. Since he had been in the area for unrelated business, he had been 'asked' to attend this threat assessment instead. To stay updated on the state of the galaxy.
"Generals, Admirals," the intelligence officer in charge of this colonial cluster spoke as he addressed the most important military commanders in the imminent area. "Primarch Sparatus," he nodded towards the man with black features and large, white facial marks.
"The threat level for our cluster is regarded as low for the moment," he spoke. "We have no reports of separatism, no intelligence regarding the planning of terroristic acts nor have elements of the patrol fleet assigned to our cluster clashed with any major Terminus Forces in the last four weeks."
The screen displayed the cluster, holding roughly twenty colonies with Aephus being considered the cluster's 'capital', ruling over nearly four billion turians.
"The cluster's defenses are still completely operational and repairs on our long range scanners have been completed," the intelligence officer went on. Desolas couldn't help but be impressed that the Captain was not in the slightest intimidated by standing in front of the five highest ranking turians in the cluster and the commanding officer of the Hierarchy's most secretive legion. "Furthermore the scheduled trade convoys of the Vol Protectorate have been able to traverse the cluster without incident."
Then the screen switched images, now displaying the entire galaxy.
"The threat level of the galaxy is regarded as medium, leaning towards high," the officer went on. "Batarian forces continue their lockdown of several worlds in the Terminus Systems and the Attican Traverse. Our reports suggest that they are looking for something. We don't know what it is as of now but we do know that they've fired at several independent investigators and civilian vessels on the grounds of trespassing."
The officer paused for a moment as if he considered his next words and the images of space wreckage appeared on screen.
"Adding to this situation, slavers in the Terminus are still growing stronger with every passing day. Two days ago a major raiding fleet was stopped mere moments before landing on a colony in the Attican Traverse. Elements of the 291st Patrol Flotilla managed to destroy the escort vessels but the transports managed to flee through the relay, presumably into batarian space."
Now the sigil of the Human Systems Alliance appeared on the screen, catching Desolas's attention the moment he realised what he was looking at.
"Human territories are experiencing similar incidents. In preparation for the upcoming joint exercises we were made aware of engagements between human naval formations and slavers resulting in the destruction of a medium sized raiding flotilla. It included an up-to-date batarian cruiser which managed to flee combat with a destroyed main battery after crippling two frigates. Casualties were within the acceptable range although four human vessels will require 'dry dock repairs'," the officer quoted.
This was bad. The batarians didn't give their bleeding edge technology to slavers. This hadn't been a raiding band working for the Batarian Hegemony. This had been a batarian naval unit disguised as a raiding band.
As if the intelligence officer managed to read Desolas's mind the next words out of his mouth were exactly that.
"We have reason to believe that this was a false flag operation of Hegemony forces. Should this knowledge cause further conflict, standing orders of the Primarch of Palaven are as usual to ignore batarian request for military aid."
It was no secret that the Hierarchy despised the Hegemony. Turian leaders made that detail as clear as they could every time they had the chance to do so. Desolas himself somehow suspected his people might even join in on whoever was attacking the Hegemony. In his opinion such a war was long due.
Then the screen switched to display the Citadel or more precisely a docking bay showing two turians and a human with black hair and a blue-white combat uniform walking towards a shuttle of equal colour, a small white circle painted on its blue door.
It looked almost like a sun.
"We have received reports of turian veterans being recruited by an yet unnamed organisation. We only know that they are going to the Terminus Systems and that whoever they are working for is looking for people with backgrounds in the military or C-SEC. The search for the sigil seen on their clothing and shuttle has brought up no results. This is a new player."
Then the screen turned black.
"This concluded the threat assessment briefing of the cluster and the galaxy as a whole," the officer spoke. "Should there be any serious developments you will be notified through encrypted channels. As always, none of this knowledge can leave this room."
"Thank you Captain," the Primarch spoke as he rose from his chair. "You are dismissed, return to your duties."
With that Desolas stood up and left the room, a little more aware of the galaxy's situation than before.
2. April 2390 AD, Omega, Afterlife
The green light for the mission had been given mere days after Redford had suggested it.
The preparations however had turned out to be much more difficult than expected. Getting Vasir and her gear on Omega had been the easy part. Contacting the Broker had been manageable.
Getting humans on Omega had been the hard part.
To say that they were unwelcome on the mining asteroid was an understatement. Omega had been a safe haven for criminals, slavers, drug lords and mercenaries for thousand of years. All of which were groups that had directly or indirectly been affected by the HSA's war against the Blood Pack and Eclipse, both of which had been major players on the station before being reduced to shadows of themselves. The human intervention had left these groups with a rather negative mindset regarding their species.
No that would be an understatement as well.
The Terminus Systems had developed a collective hatred against the newcomers to the galactic stage, a hatred Redford had noticed in the sheer amount of bribery and acts of violence that had to be committed before he and the three members of his field team had been able to enter the station. The only one who seemed to be willing to work with them to a degree had been the asari in charge of the majority of the station.
For this reason the meeting spot that had been set up was a club named Afterlife, a club Redford knew to be the seat of power of Omega's self declared queen, Aria T'Loak. In exchange for allowing them on the station, they had informed her that something was going down. While she hadn't received any of the details she had appreciated the fact that it wasn't going to happen inside her club.
Redford ordered a drink from the barkeeper and withdrew back to the booth near the exit he had selected. He set down on the red fabric and leaned against the wall while taking care to look as casual as possible. Staying focused in spite of loud music, aggressive light shows and the sporadic person feeling the need to ask him to dance was a rather hard task but he still rose to it, his eyes scouring his surroundings all the while looking just like any other guest.
Most people around here were probably some sort of danger. It was after all Omega. It didn't take him long to spot armed individuals. After all with the right amount of money and connections you could get anything past the bouncer.
His team had divided itself so they could cover the main entrance, the connection to the VIP section, the stairway up to Aria's 'throne' and the former Spectre currently waiting at the bar to meet the Shadow Broker's agent.
The tricky part was that no one knew what said agent looked like. They had to rely on the asari giving them a sign. When she ordered two drinks, he'd know that whoever she handed the other drink to was their target.
He was looking for the type of person who was trying too hard to blend in. Whoever it was that he was looking for, they'd be almost unnoticeable. They'd disguise their movements through the people around them, they wouldn't wear anything that would draw attention to them and they would be in a position from which they wouldn't be noticed yet they'd be able to have a good overlook over the situation.
He was essentially looking for someone like himself.
The crowd was an obvious place to start searching given the description Vasir had given them regarding past meetings. So Redford began to look between the eagerly dancing people hooked by the music. He was looking for someone who didn't quite belong into the picture, someone who wasn't here to let loose but to complete an assignment. Someone with a clear purpose.
He spotted a salarian walking through the dance floor with a sense of purpose, the certainty of his movements making that much clear. He didn't stop and he didn't hesitate. He knew where he was going.
The alien was turning his head ever so slightly every few seconds, looking behind himself as if he was being chased by someone yet doing so with impressive discretion. It matched the description Vasir had given him regarding the meeting. The agent would use a crowd to blend in and lose people trailing him.
Redford kept his eyes on him but once he noticed the small package the salarian was carrying in his left hand which was quickly exchanged for something else as a batarian pretended to bump into him it became obvious that he had just witnessed an exchange. More likely a drug dealer or a courier than an agent of the Shadow Broker.
Moving along he couldn't help but notice the lone drell leaning against the entrance of the Afterlife's lower level just at the edge of the crowd. His hands were folded in front of his trench coat as he finished what looked like it had been a prayer. Then he did exactly what Redford was doing. Scanning the crowd for someone like him, doing so from a location that allowed him a swift get away and looking as casual as possible.
But the focus in his eyes betrayed him. The drell didn't act according to the description Vasir had given for the agent's behaviour. He wasn't trying to vanish in the crowd, he wasn't looking for people that were following him. He wasn't looking for someone that may hunt him.
Instead he was hunting someone.
Redford didn't see any weapons on the member of the race known for its assassins but he was sure that the drell was here to complete a job. The fact that he was gone mere seconds after Redford looked away made that much clear. The specialist felt sorry for whoever had been put on the assassin's list.
"Nothing here," the agent placed at the main entrance informed him through an earpiece, "Just a pissed of batarian looking for trouble. Should've seen how the elcor bouncer knocked him out. It was hilarious."
"VIP section reports no development besides horrible drinks."
"Stairway clear."
"Nothing at the bar yet either," he answered them as he spoke into his watch while pretending to scratch his face.
He once more scanned his surroundings from the booth he was sitting in except that this time he was trying to find the most promising candidates outside of the crowd.
The turian looking over the dance floor from a vantage point on the Afterlife's second level was the first one to catch his attention. The heavy pistol tucked in the fabric of his clothes would have made him an obvious suspect if it wasn't for the fact that he simply didn't try to blend in, scars and various other hidden weapons on his body making him too noticeable to meet the former Spectre's description. The guy was more likely to be a mercenary.
Next he looked at the krogan sitting alone at a table, observing from the shadows. His behaviour certainly matched the description the former Spectre had given them. He was looking around the crowd, possibly to decide if someone had followed him. Redford would keep him in mind though the fact that his guards were all to noticeable made him an unlikely candidate.
Then Redford shifted his sights back to Vasir at the bar and noted the other asari approaching her. The woman moved with a sense of direction and she was coming from the crowd. She knew the former Spectre, that much was obvious. She also knew how to blend in.
Was this the agent?
"Stand by," he said as he set down his drink and continued to observe.
After a few moments of chatting, the asari turned around once more as she walked away. No drinks had been bought.
"False alert," he informed the field team and continued to observe.
Minutes passed by and Redford was starting to believe that the agent had flaked on them or that they had been spotted. He was about to call the whole thing off.
Then another turian appeared from within the dancing crowd and approached Vasir who turned around to greet him, shortly afterwards ordering exactly two drinks.
"Look alive people something's happening," Redford said as he noted the absence of the turian on the second level and once more spotted the asari who had just approached Vasir now coming towards her again.
"Armed salarian just walked by the bouncer. Packed some serious hardware," the entrance agent informed him.
"I got two guys coming from the VIP section, headed straight for you."
"Looks like the queen knows something's up," the agent positioned to observe the stairway said. "She looks pissed."
"So she's not in on it," Redford reasoned. At least they hadn't been sold out by her.
Then he began to connect the dots. "We aren't the only one's trying to kidnap someone," he realised as he got up and saw the turian who had just vanished from the second level head straight for Vasir.
"This is a setup."
Codex: Turian Colonial Clusters
The Turian Hierarchy, unlike its fellow Council Members, is a centralized government that rules over all of it colonies with almost full authority from Palaven. This is a trait only shared by the Batarian Hegemony, the other sole galactic government in which the home world of a species is in charge of all colonial matters.
While the batarians enforce their rule through colonial viceroys, governors selected for their loyalty to the chairman of the Batarian Hegemony who rule through the might of the Internal Forces and propaganda, the Turian Hierarchy relies on their highest tier of citizenship to complete the task through the use of skills and reputation acquired before becoming a Primarch.
Every cluster is ruled by a Primarch who has a seat on the Council of Primrachs and directly answers to the ruler of Palaven's cluster, the Primarch of Palaven and de-facto leader of the turian people. Primarchs are selected after a strict line of succession and usually spent their time before ruling colony clusters as admirals or generals of the Hierarchy, their skills of managing large military logistics and natural charisma more than enough qualification to rule over colony worlds.
The Turian Hierarchy currently rules over 63 colonial clusters inhabited by the majority of the 140 billion turians currently known to live in the galaxy. Notable clusters include Palaven, Taetrus, Digeris and Aephus.
A/N: I heard you guys like cliffhangers so here we go ;)
Now I'd like to say that I've been putting of population numbers up to now because of how much we don't know about the Mass Effect universe. I did a lot of math to come to that 140 billion number. I considered the turians dextro-biology and the lack of worlds sharing this feature and the fact that populations stabilize over time. Furthermore since a lot of them are in the military at any given time, I figure they don't have that many children.
Now ignoring that, I hope you like this chapter. I know it took me a day longer than usual to update but I think the extra day was worth it. Writing the elcor was as fun as I imagined it but god damn is it hard to come up with words describing the sentence he's about to say. Props to Bioware for doing that as good as they did in the game.s
One of you pointed out that I make a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes and I know (since you disabled your answer options I'll have to do it here) It's because I am not a native speaker and I usually work on the proof reading rather late to upload during AMERICAN times since that's where the majority of my readers seem to be from.
I know all the things you said but it happens, if it bothers you too much I'm sorry but that's just who I am.
Anyway, you said I should get a beta reader so let me answer that one right now. Won't happen. I don't like the idea of not being able to upload when I want because I have to wait for them to finish reading stuff. This is a one man show. Sorry :D FYI though, I don't spell check A/N.
Now if you want to keep talking about, please contact me privatly and enable your reply function. I don't make a habit out of personally addressing people in the A/N. That's not really the point of them.
Since I got that crossed of now, time for the obligatory track record. We're at 137 reviews (give me more I like them) 320 favorites aaaaaaaaaaand *drumm roll* 401 followers.
We cracked 400. That's just insane. Thank you for sticking with me guys. This feels like a major breakthrough tbh. 400 people. That's a lot.
Holy shit that's a long A/N, time to wrap this up.
As always let me know what you think about the chapter, I appreciate every review.
See you around next time
