Mass Effect: ODST Lost

Chapter Four:

Decisions and Assignments

Watching our approach to the Citadel was an impressive sight. Not the Citadel itself, mind you, more the sight of the nebula behind it. I need to have a serious discussion with the person who designs things in this damn galaxy. Or, more accurately, my boot and their ass. Everyone on this damn station is one good bombing run away from certain death. Hell, one solid MAC blast would destroy the central ring completely.

Shepard woke up just before we reached the Citadel. After speaking with Ashley for a moment, he had a few words with me. Told me Anderson had filled him in on my unique circumstances and while, like Anderson, he was withholding judgement on that subject, he did trust me well enough. He also seemed genuinely grateful for the help I provided on the mission. Then he said, if we wanted to see it firsthand, that I should follow him up to the bridge while he told Joker, the pilot, to begin docking procedures. Naturally, I agreed, with Alenko and Williams, or Kaidan and Ashley as they had asked to be called in their downtime, had followed. Despite the oddness of both the ship and the station, getting to the docking bay had gone about how I had expected. After that Anderson had ordered the ground team from Eden Prime, myself included, to follow him to the Embassies. Odd, considering I was supposed to be confined to the Normandy for the time being. Not that I'm going to complain. I never thought I'd get claustrophobic on a warship. I guess this means that they've decided on what to do with me.

The Embassies were apparently located on the Presidium Ring, a fair walk from the Alliance Docks. It was also apparent that I had forgotten I was about to be on a space station and surrounded by various aliens. This became rather obvious as soon as we stepped out of the elevator leading from the docks. The entire thirty minute walk, I was wound tighter than a steel spring. I may have liked Vetra and her crew, but it still took a lot of willpower to suppress several years of 'shoot alien bastards on sight' instinct. Hell, we had only just started working together with the Covenant separatists.

Meeting the Human Ambassador, Donald Udina, was the perfect validation on my choice to go into the military as opposed to politics. The bastard was whiney, arrogant, self-centered and hid it all behind the mask of having humanity's best interest at heart. In short, the man was a complete and total tool. He also has a very punchable face, I'd like to admit. And even I know that making demands and shouting at any governing body was not going to have the results he seemed to think it would.

After everyone started making their own way, Anderson informed me that, after the Council hearing, he would be returning to discuss my situation with me. Of course, I was to stay in this office until then, leading to two hours of mind numbing boredom. The phrase 'hurry up and wait' had never seemed more appropriate. At least I had my Omni-Tool. I spent the first hour looking up anything I could on the Citadel Council and the Citadel itself. The Presidium Ring, where I am now, was basically where the upper crust of galactic society lived. Just looking out over the balcony in the Ambassador's office could've told me that. The ward arms were where literally everyone else lived and worked. That kind of separation was rarely seen in the UEG and UNSC. At the very least, the separation gap wasn't this pronounced.

For the second hour I started researching weapons and weapon technologies, which led to the interesting discovery of kinetic shielding. That just sounds dead useful. If I'm reading this right, it wouldn't be anything special compared to energy shields, but it sure as hell beats not having shielding at all. That takes instant priority, right behind getting new guns. And find a way to restock ammo for my UNSC weapons, though I'm starting to think that might be more of a long term goal.

I sighed, shutting down my Omni-Tool and was about to go look out over the balcony when the door opened, Anderson entering on his own. I stood at attention, but the captain just waved it off. "At ease, son. After that meeting, I don't care much for formality at the moment."

I raised a brow and depolarized my helmets faceplate. "That good then?"

Anderson scoffed. "Pretty much. Was your helmet capable of that this whole time?"

I nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Anderson just chuckled. "Of course. Now, I believe it's time we had that talk."

So many jokes about the birds and the bees come to mind.

"But first, let me ask you a question. Say I believe your story. That you really do come from a parallel reality, where a different version of humanity is fighting a war with a race of alien zealots. What do you intend to do as of right now?"

Again, this guy and the fucking bullseye questions. "As of right now I have one, major long term goal. I wish to return to my squad and the UNSC. I don't know if that's possible, but I owe it to them, and to myself, to try."

Anderson nodded as if he expected nothing less. "And if that isn't possible? If you can't get back?"

"As much as I hate the thought of that outcome, more so that it's the most likely one, I will have to try and move on. Try and make a life here."

I desperately hoped that wasn't the case, but as I said, it was the most likely scenario.

Anderson nodded again. Then he opened his Omni-Tool and started typing. A second later I received a message notification on mine. "That message contains two things. The first is an official identity record for Nathanial Renkov, 25-years-old, born to a family on the colony of Mindoir. When you were a child, Batarian slavers razed the colony, and your parents were killed in the raid. You were sent to a foster family on Earth and, in your late teens, you began making a name for yourself as a private security officer. You only took jobs from honest folk and businesses. In your early twenties you started taking jobs off world. And yesterday you assisted Alliance soldiers after receiving their distress call on your way through the system. The Alliance officially thanks you for your assistance, which leads into the second item in that message. The Alliance recognizes the risk you took and wishes to give you a reward of ten thousand credits for your trouble."

What the what? I blinked several times while my brain rebooted and I was eventually able to open said message. The first part of the message did indeed lead to a public records page with my name, photo, age – everything. The second part of the message lead to my own bank account that currently contained the mentioned ten thousand credits. I looked between my Omni-Tool and the captain several times before I was able to speak. "Why? Why do this for me?"

Anderson just smiled at me. It was actually the first smile I'd ever seen on him. "I'm not saying I believe your story. Even if it is true, I'm not sure I'm ready to believe it. But what I do believe is that you are a good man, a good soldier. I believe you can do a lot of good for this galaxy. I'd offer you a place in the Alliance, but I wouldn't be able to just hand you a captain's rank, or an Alliance equivalent. And somehow I think climbing back up the ladder would only hold you back. That being said, I do actually want something out of this. Or rather, the Alliance does."

There it is. Was wondering when we'd get to it. "And that would be?"

"The Alliance is officially offering you a contract. We are willing to offer you another ten thousand credits to assist Commander Logan Shepard in finding any information you can that will prove Spectre Agent Saren's involvement in the attack on Eden Prime. Are you willing to accept this contract, Captain Renkov?"

I both love and hate that you're acting like I have a choice in the matter, given what you just did for me, you awesome, conniving bastard you. "Yes, Sir. I accept the contract."

ooOoOoo

So much for ten grand. Are all guns that expensive or is ten thousand credits just not a lot of money? The shield emitters were a fraction of what I paid for just one gun! So, yeah, on the upside I am officially kitted out and ready for future missions. On the downside, I'm nearly broke. I still have to install the new shield emitters myself, as well. It was well worth it though! My new SMG, an M-12 Locust, wasn't quite up to my M7S's standards, but it would work. It didn't hit as hard or shoot as fast, but I was promised that it more than made up for it by way of insane accuracy. I was really counting on not being sold a bunch of bullshit along with the gun. My new rifle, by contrast, was an almost perfect replacement for my DMR. The M-13 Raptor was a bit bulkier, and less powerful, but it was practically a perfect comparison in every other category. Technically speaking, it was a sniper rifle, but its shorter range, smaller caliber and high fire rate made it function just like the DMR. I may have less than a thousand credits left, but it was money well spent, for a one time purchase.

Now that I was well armed, and soon to be well shielded, I started up a call to Shepard to see what I could do to help in the mission. This is gonna be weird, not taking point anymore. I'm too well used to being squad leader these days.

It took a minute for Shepard to pick up, and gunfire greeted me the same time he did. "Shepard!? What the hell – "

"No time! We have a lead on Saren! How soon – damn! Garrus, take that sniper out! I need you to get to an alley underneath Flux, near the Wards Access corridor! The lead's a Quarian with hard evidence! She's walking into a trap, Renkov, and we're pinned down here!"

I started running as soon as I had a location. "Copy that, Commander! ETA: five minutes!" Closing the channel, I put everything into my sprint. I didn't think it would be this soon, but I was about to put my new weapons through a test run. Thankfully, I was only one building over from the Wards Access Tower, so I only had one elevator ride and a short sprint to the club. I took my time in the lift to check my weapons and get as familiar with them as I could be. When the lift stopped I tore out of it before the doors could properly open, sprinting straight for the WA corridor. Not a soul got in my way, but an armed soldier running at top speed usually had that effect on people. I took a hard right when I saw the neon sign for the club, slowing down as I hit the alley. I couldn't hear any fighting, So I was either to late or right on time. Walking quickly through the alley, Locust in hand, I started hearing voices nearby. I stopped at the next corner and peaked around it. There was a small group down a set of nearby stairs, three of which surrounding the lone fourth. I quickly recognized the form of a Turian and two unknowns of the same species. The fourth in the middle was most likely the Quarian. I switched out my Locust for the Raptor when the Turian gave some signal to his companions.

The Quarian saw it as well, throwing something at the two unknowns, which turned out to be a grenade, before taking cover behind some nearby crates. Using my vantage point on top of the stairs, I concentrated fire on the now downed unknowns, taking them out with a few shots each. The Turian was a bit tougher, not only having escaped the grenade blast, but he also took cover behind some crates on the opposite wall as the Quarian. He also seemed to have better shielding, but that was all fine. He was now alone and the Quarian was relatively safe, I could afford to be patient. As usual, my patients rewarded me as he made a break from cover to try and gain some distance from the sniper. Unfortunately for him, he forgot he had two opponents, not just one. The Quarian gave a couple of shots from a shotgun while I peppered him with my rifle. He turned to face the Quarian, but caught my next shot between his eyes.

I waited to make sure the targets stayed down before collapsing and holstering my rifle. And damn if that isn't another point to UNSC gear. That shits a structural hazard if I've ever seen one. Noting the Quarian doing the same with her shotgun, I approached her. "Are you injured, Ma'am?"

The Quarian was small, I noticed, or maybe just young. If she were human I'd have put her in her late teens. Of course, with aliens who knew. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself in a fight, not that I don't appreciate the help. How did you know to be here?"

"I'm Captain Nathanial Renkov. I'm on contract with the Alliance to try and prove a Spectre named Saren has gone rouge. My CO found out about your meeting here. I don't know about the details yet, but he knew you were walking into a trap and ordered me to intervene. Speaking of..." I was about to open a comm channel to Shepard, but it seemed the man was a step ahead of me.

"Renkov, report! Are you with the Quarian!?"

"Yes, Sir." I chuckled. "She's safe and sound, Commander. Do you want to set up a rendezvous location?"

"Negative. We're two minutes out from your location now. Just stay where you are."

"Copy that. Renkov out." Closing the channel, I turned back to my current companion. "Are you alright, Ma'am?"

"You already asked me that, Captain." She chuckled.

"No, I asked if you were injured. Now I'm asking if you are alright."

I wasn't sure if I imagined her eyes widening behind her mask or not, the reaction was too brief to be sure. "I am fine, Captain. Thank you for your concern, though this is hardly my first fight."

"Just thought I'd be sure, Ma'am."

"Tali." She corrected gently. "My name is Tali, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

Why does that ring a bell? Not the name, but… "Tali'Zorah of Rayya? Rayya being where you were born?"

That time I was sure her eyes widened in surprise. "That's correct. The ship I was born on was the Rayya. I'm surprised, not many make that distinction so quick."

"Some places on Earth used to use a similar custom. Not sure if they still do, but I know the Italians used to."

I nearby door opened before our conversation could continue, with the Normandy team coming through, along with an unknown Turian and Krogan. "That was a quick two minutes." I muttered, though Tali's giggling told me I wasn't as quiet as I had thought.

"Good work, Renkov. Injuries?"

I shook my head. "None, Sir. All hostiles were neutralized quickly."

Shepard nodded, turning to Tali. "It's good to see you safe, Miss. Commander Shepard, Alliance navy. I'm looking for evidence proving a Spectre named Saren attacked a human colony. I've heard you might be able to help me."

Tali nodded. "I certainly can. It's the least I can do for sending Captain Renkov to assist me, but not here. There's no telling who could be listening in a place like this."

"We can take her to the human embassy. The Ambassador and Captain Anderson will want to hear this, as well. If the evidence is damning enough, they can get the ball rolling with the Council." I recommended.

Shepard agreed quickly, leading the way to the nearest Rapid Transit terminal. It would take a few different cars, but it was better than taking three trips in the elevator. The lift of boredom, rather. Why that thing moves so damn slow is beyond me. Give me a set of stairs any day over that.

ooOoOoo

Trust a politician to be more worried about his workload than actually getting work done. How the hell did this guy land such an important job? Why did he want the damn job in the first place if he hates the actual work? I shook the thoughts out of my head, fearing some of my insults might make it out of my mouth. I tuned back into the conversation as Tali was explaining about her Pilgrimage and how she got her evidence. Wait, they live on starships? I thought it was odd that she was born on one, but it's hardly unheard of. Do they not have a homeworld – stop, research it later. Focus. Hearing about her acquisition of the data was impressive, especially for a civilian barely into adulthood. Not her first scrap, indeed.

Hearing the audio files of Saren claiming that Eden Prime was a major victory put the assembled group in a good mood. We finally had the proof we needed, which technically made my job complete. But the unknown woman's words, along with Shepard's recounting of his vision thanks to the beacon, made me feel like a pit had form in my stomach. The Ambassador may have been willing to brush off the Commander's words, but I've seen enough with my time in the UNSC, short as it was, to just throw this kind of warning away. HighCom definitely would have taken it seriously, or at least opened an investigation. I hope this Council is more competent than the picture I currently have paints them as, but something's telling me not to hold my breath.

As Udina went to set up another meeting with the Council, the rest of the team making their own way to the Citadel Tower, Anderson kept me back to fulfil his end of the contract. He also requested that I remain nearby until the Council meeting was over. As I was not an Alliance soldier, I was free to refuse and start making my own way in the galaxy, but he claimed to feel like they may need my services sooner rather than later. Hell, they keep paying me like they have been and I might start getting used to being a freelance soldier. Ten grand might not go far in terms of gear, but these have been relatively short missions, all things considered. And the gear was a one time buy. If they pay more for bigger ops, then this could be a damn good job if I'm stuck here long term. What was the old term for this kind of work, soldier of fortune? I could work with that.

I agreed to stay on the Citadel for the time being before making my way back down to the wards. There was a used starship dealer I had passed when I was looking for a weapons shop I needed to stop by. It didn't have to be anything big or fancy, but unless I wanted to pay for transport everywhere for the rest of my time here, I was gonna need my own ship eventually. Even if I can't pay for one right this second, it wouldn't hurt to find out the going rates for one were. I should also see about getting back to Eden Prime at some point. I might not want to keep that mercenary ship, but I'm sure I could still sell it or trade it in. Fuck, those old stories about people faking their deaths and starting over make the latter half seem a hell of a lot easier than this.

I was still talking to the dealers owner, a short and pudgy looking alien in a sealed off suit, when Anderson messaged me, asking to meet in the lobby of Citadel Security. Apparently I was getting that new job, after all.

Excusing myself and heading to the meeting point saw Anderson waiting by an elevator in the middle of the lobby. When he noticed me he simply gestured for me to follow him into the lift. "I'll let Shepard give you the full explanation, but for now we'll cut to the short version." He said as we started moving. "The Council believed our evidence and stripped Saren of his Spectre, but refused to send any significant forces to apprehend him. They compromised with us and approved the Commander's induction into the Spectre's and is sending him out to find him. I want you on his team for the duration of the mission."

"Not that I'm refusing, but Shepard already has a full team, so what's one more soldier going to offer?"

"For one you're not some ordinary soldier, if Williams's and Miss Zorah's testimonies are anything to go by, and having some extra firepower on the ground team never hurts. Second, from watching your helmet footage I know you have advanced technical knowledge that could prove invaluable. Finally, you wouldn't just be there as another fighter. You would still offer your tech and combat abilities to the mission, true, but your primary role would be as an advisor to Shepard."

I blinked at the last explanation. "Advisor?"

Anderson sighed. "That's right. Like yourself, Shepard's a damn fine soldier and he's no stranger to leading a team into combat. But this time it's gonna be different. The Spectre's only answer to the Council and they're a pretty hands off bunch. They may jump in if they have something important they need done, but it'll be Shepard making most of the calls on this operation. I trust Shepard's abilities, but this'll be entirely new to him. I don't know your whole service history, but it speaks well of your leadership skills that you've made the rank of captain, especially as young as you appear to be. That and you have to have a good head on your shoulders to make the calls you have so far. I'll be putting a lot of faith in you, if you choose to accept this contract, son."

I thought about it. This mission would be a first for me as well, a couple of them actually. I'd been asked my opinion for various ops before, mostly to make sure my team could handle our objective, but I had never been an official advisor before. And effectively having no superiors to report to or take mission parameters from? That'd be a first all around. We'd be on our own by all accounts. No reinforcements or extraction if things went wrong or if we get in over our heads. I guess that'd be part of my job, to make sure the latter doesn't happen. This also looks to be a long term job, so I'll be on a ship for the duration, nothing new there. Also, this is kind of what I'd be doing anyway, if I take up the profession, so it's something I should get used to.

I mulled it over a bit more before nodding to Anderson. "I'll agree to the contract, Sir."

Anderson nodded back. "Good to hear it, son. I've been authorized by Admiral Hackett to offer you one hundred thousand credits for your involvement with the mission. The non-Alliance members of the team will be receiving a similar offer. I was told to consider it an active bounty for Saren's death or capture, the latter being preferable. Shepard's being given command of the Normandy from here on out. Once we're at the docks, head abord and make yourself comfortable. I don't expect this to be a short mission. You'll be leaving as soon as Shepard arrives."

We arrived at the Normandy's docking bay, Anderson staying behind to wait for the Ambassador and Shepard to arrive. I decided to tour the ship fully to try and find a spot to set up shop, collecting my gear from the armory on the way. I ended up in what seemed to be a storage room set between the cargo bay and engineering. It was about the size of a small bedroom and was mostly full, except for the front of the room, which was occupied by a long, narrow table. It would do, Shepard could move me if I was in the way. I set my rucksack under the table before removing my helmet and placing it on top of it. I sighed, think about the coming weeks. Or months, if this bastard is any sort of competent. Sighing again, I pulled my laptop out of my rucksack, figuring I could get a bit of study work in while I waited.