Chapter Twenty-Seven: Omega Pt. I
Such rage she had felt
Towards the doom of her people
But she understood
Bridge of the CAS-Assault Carrier Shadow of Intent
Noveria, Pax System
"I swear Arbiter, just say the world and I'll unleash all of our fleet's cleansing hellfire upon these - these Dra-Shypahs!" Shipmaster R'tas growled viciously.
Thel Vadam', Arbiter of the Sangheili, raised his eyes in alarm. He hadn't heard that particular curse word in quite a long time. What did it mean again? Something to do with reptilian fecal products if he remembered correctly.
"Hold, Shipmaster," he commanded. "Not to say that the thought has not crossed my mind, but we must exercise restraint."
"Restraint?" R'tas almost yelled, voice rising several degrees of loudness from his base growl before. "This 'Cerberus' organization was experimenting with the Flood! Experimenting with the doom of the galaxy! Toeing the line of terrible extinction! Had the Parasite gotten loose - "
"I am well aware of the threat of the Parasite," Thel said calmly, mandibles flared ever so slightly towards R'tas in annoyance. "Sometimes your zealous desire for combat overwhelms your sense of practicality."
"My zealous desire for combat is practical in this case," R'tas grumbled, quieter now after Thel's rebuke. Deferring to the other Sangheili, he asked, "Well, what would you have us do?"
"The question of the hour," Thel said.
No one within their fleet knew who or what 'Cerberus' was, not even the databanks in the datapads the Asari had brought up from their mining colony contained any information about them. All the information they had to go on was as follows: They had a base on the world of icy Noveria, now a sphere of molten glass and slag, where they were experimenting with the Flood and attempting to access one of the Keys; hostile human-like troops had attacked them while they were investigating said base; they had a sizable fleet in space opposite of their own; and a General named Oleg Petrovsky claimed to know where the next Key was and how to retrieve it.
Thel's, heavy, booted hooves thumped on the deck of R'tas's elevated command ridge as the Sangheili paced back and forth in front of the Shipmaster sitting in his chair. "If this General is somehow connected to what was going on down on the surface of that cold world, then he must die for risking unleashing the Flood."
"Something we agree on," nodded R'tas. "But what of his knowledge of the Key? Such a thing is heresy. Not even we have gone through the latest Transmittance to find out where our journey must take us."
"Yes. And that is why he must also live," said Thel. R'tas looked at him, confusion etched in his face, and Thel continued. "It is imperative we find out how he knows these things."
"So what do you propose? Should we just ask him over the comms?" R'tas asked, knowing the question was more in jest than it was serious.
"No. I want to meet this human face-to-face. On his own ship. Stare him in the eyes and see if he will be forthcoming, or withhold the truth."
"On his own ship? Are you certain?" asked R'tas. "Rather straightforward."
"Yes," the Arbiter said, spreading his mandibles in a mischievous grin. "Because while we are speaking a Huragok under stealth camoflauge will be infiltrating their systems and downloading every scrap of data we can get our hands on."
R'tas shook his head, yet mirrored his friend's grin. "Always the one for devious tactics and stealthy misdirections Arbiter. But what if you are detected?"
"Then my stealth Lances and I will kill everyone present, we will extract at high speed aboard our Phantoms, and you can unleash your 'cleansing hellfire' on their fleet as you see fit," he responded.
"A sound plan," said R'tas, obviously satisfied with the potential for combat.
"But first, the next Transmittance," said Thel, withdrawing the most recently retrieved Key from a compartment on his belt harness. "To see if General Petrovsky truly knows the location of the next Key."
R'tas nodded, using his left hand to tap some comms commands into his chair. Transmitting on across a fleetwide channel he said, "Attention: All hands, prepare for Transmittance. All hands, prepare for Transmittance."
The Shipmaster nodded at the Arbiter, who brought the small, thin silver cylinder up to eye level. Though he didn't know who exactly to activate the Transmittance, the Key nonetheless triggered in its mysterious ways and a series of quick, brief images were clearly and permanently burned into the minds all Sangheili and their accompanying Asari. A set of coordinates, a large asteroid station that looked hauntingly familiar, a building, a nightclub called AFTERLIFE, a back room, and then the Safe, tucked away behind a false door. Thel and R'tas's eyes shot open, finding each other's gaze almost instantly.
"That station, it looked just like High Charity," R'tas said quietly, yet sternly.
"Yes. Much smaller, dirtier, less elegant, but... yes," Thel agreed. "The likeness is -"
"Disconcerting? I want to burn the thing out of space. Turn its surface to molten slag just like the infested planet below," growled R'tas.
Thel understood his desires. High Charity had been the Prophet's seat of power, and had represented everything the Sangheili have come to despise about that damnable period in which they had been nothing but pawns in a larger, worthless game. After the Great Schism the loss of the station to the Flood and its subsequent destruction was no great issue to the Sangheili, who readily transitioned their seat of power and government back to their home planet of Sanghelios.
"We might yet be able to," said Thel offhandedly. "But first, to arrange a meeting with this general. I want an audio line only. No video."
R'tas smirked at the distaste in Thel's voice, motioning to the Sangheili in the operational pits below his command ridge to carry out the Arbiter's order. A few seconds later the comms crackled as the connection request was accepted and established, ready to receive and transmit audio from the bridge of the Intent and to the Cerberus General's flagship.
"Greetings," came the voice from the other side of the comm, male, strong, and overbearingly authoritative. "This is General Oleg Petrovsky of Cerberus' First Expeditionary Fleet. To whom do I have the honor of speaking?"
R'tas and Thel shared a glance before the elder Sangheili answered. "I am the Arbiter of the Sangheili. You say that you know the location of what we are seeking, and how to get it. I wish to know if this is true. I request a meeting to discuss this face-to-face. Do you accept?"
The line was silent for a few seconds. Perhaps he had caught the general off-guard with his bluntness, Thel thought.
"I accept your request for a face-to-face meeting. What are your terms? Number of guards and whether they are armed? Time and location?" asked the voice.
"Immediately, aboard your ship, in an empty hangar. Four individual guards for each party, armed. Advance your ship alone to the midpoint between our two fleets. I will be arriving in a single dropship."
"Very well. I will transmit the hangar coordinates soon. I look forwards to making your acquaintance."
Thel didn't respond, instead signaling for the line to be cut. He immediately spun on his hooves, striding for the bridge door. R'tas was quickly at his side, springing out of his command chair and jogging to catch him before he was gone.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, escorting his friend and superior towards the bridge entrance/exit.
"Yes. Fear not for my well-being Shipmaster, I will be in good hands." Thel looked at R'tas, and the younger Shipmaster immediately recognized the mischief in his dark eyes. "Or rather, I will be in good fuel rod arms and heavy metal shields."
Thel clapped R'tas on the shoulder and strode through the bridge doors, feeling the small rush of air as they closed behind him. Tapping on the tacpad on his left wrist he quickly queued up several comm channels. First, he contacted his pilot Sel 'Therum and told him to spin up his Phantom, docked in the Arbiter's personal hangar. Second, he contacted Lance Leader Usze 'Taham, and told his ten Sangheili to meet him in his hangar ready for a mission as soon as possible, and to bring another stealth harness. Third, he contacted Ultra 'Harum and told him to send two of his best Mgalekgolo pairs up to his personal hangar as well. Lastly, he sent a burst transmission of rendezvous coordinates to one of the few Huragok on the Shadow of Intent, Adequately Balanced was its name he recalled.
The distance between the command bridge and his personal hangar was short, and Thel's long, powerful stride meant he arrived before both 'Taham's Lance or the Mgalegkolo pairs had arrived. Instead he happened upon his pilot Sel 'Therum conducting some hasty pre-flight checks, and a number of Sangheili and Unggoy flight crew working hard at stripping whatever wasn't vital out of the troop bay of Sel's Phantom, a significant pile of equipment already accumulated on the flight deck.
Sel looked up from his datapad and saw the Arbiter, giving a salute, but Thel motioned at him to continue his work, which he did. Out of his peripheral vision Thel saw ten black-armored Sangheili double-timing through one of the hangar doors, weapons drawn in their arms. Uzse was at the front, an extra stealth harness draped over his shoulder like the Arbiter had requested, and they started towards their leader. On the opposite side of the hangar the rumbling vibrations through the deck signaled the arrival of the two Mgalekgolo pairs, the hulking armored beings having to duck through the doorways. In tow was the Huragok Adequately Balanced, literally, as the floating creature's four tentacle appendages were latched around the broad shoulders of the trailing Mgalekgolo.
Soon all relevant parties were gathered around him with the exception of Sel, who was busy starting the Phantom but who was linked into the operation's BattleNet band that the Arbiter had just created.
"Listen carefully," the Arbiter began, his tone all business. "I am going to meet face-to-face with the leader of the fleet of ships several thousand kilometers off our bow. He claims to know of our holy search for the Keys, where the next one is, and how to obtain it. I am going to see if this is true."
There were some slight murmurs from Uzse's Sangheili, but the Lance leader quickly silenced them with a quiet, yet sharp rebuke.
"Brothers Faxara Suso Makko, Opaxe Suso Makko, and Brothers Mesoye Hunna Datta and Deyori Hunna Datta will serve as my guard escort. Usze, your Lance will both be providing additional, unseen security, and making sure the Huragok accomplishes its goals," said Thel.
"What 'goals' does the Huragok have?" Uzse asked. His arms were crossed, but not out of any annoyance. The stock of a Plasma Repeater peeked out over his shoulder, and attached to the mag-plates on his hips was an Energy Pistol and of course, the Sangheili's personal Plasma Sword.
Thel looked towards Adequately Balanced, directly addressing the floating mass. The Huragok had detached itself from its Mgalekgolo tower, and was now holding between Uzse's Sangheili and the two Hunter Pairs, four tentacles lazily waving about. "Infiltrate the ship's data stores and download any information available, without being detected. Could you do that?"
[Systems infiltration is not what She designed me to do], the Huragok beamed directly into their comms, [However I do believe that I can accomplish what you ask, a data download, undetected, provided any artificial intelligence countermeasures are not too great.]
"So what happens if the Huragok fails? If we are found out? What if they can see past our camouflage technology?" Uzse asked Thel pragmatically.
"Then we kill everyone," Thel responded matter-of-factly. "Take what we can, and bug out on the Phantom. Then Shipmaster 'Vadum will destroy their fleet.
"That easy?" Usze said, mandibles splayed in bemusement.
"Likely not, but it is what we will plan for. Fit the Huragok with the stealth harness."
The ride over to General Petrovsky's flagship was, as expected, cramped. Post-Great Schism Phantoms had designed their troop bay around the new standard Sangheili unit, the ten-man Lance. While a Lance would have been able to be seated comfortable, the addition of the Arbiter, the Huragok Adequately Balanced, and of course the four, hulking Mgalekgolo meant that it was standing room only, and everybody was pressed up against everybody else. The Arbiter and the four Hunters were in the rearmost section of the troop bay, closest to the ramp in order to easily exit the Phantom.
"Beginning landing approach," their pilot Sel 'Therum said over their operations BattleNet frequency.
Usze 'Taham, First Lance leader of the Arbiter's personal Special Operations guard, clicked on him comm. "Pairs, initiate final visual and sensor stealth check."
They had been under active camouflage since they had first stepped into the Phantom, but redundancy never hurt when it came to military preparations. Usze turned as best he could in the cramped conditions to his combat partner, their Lance's Sangheili marksman Cato 'Retan, and began his check. First, he disabled the HUD tags that outlined his partner's silhouette and tried to find his combat partner solely with his eyes. He failed. Next he took great effort in detecting Cato with his advanced sensor suite, cycling through infrared, thermal, radar, ladar, even sonar. These new updated stealth suits were godsends. The cutting edge of the technology offered by Sanghelios Arms, they expanded upon previous iterations by adding emissions masking technology that made heavy use of thermal heat sinks, and ablative radar-deflecting plates. However, while they made the Sangheili as invisible as one could hope to be, they were exorbitantly expensive, and required immense power to run, thus only able to be activated for a time period of thirty continuous minutes or so.
"You're Black Cato," Usze said, using the universal Sangheili Spec-Ops code-word for complete stealth.
"As are you Lance Leader," replied the marksman, having completed his own check of 'Taham.
"All combat elements report status," 'Taham ordered.
"1-2 is Black."
"1-3, Black."
"1-4, Black here."
"1-5, we are Black."
"1-1, Black," Usze said last, confirming that all five of his combat pairs were invisible to detection. Next he turned his attention to the Huragok floating above them all, the top of his stealth harness almost scraping the ceiling of the Phantom's troop bay. He performed the same set of checks he had just done before to Cato and after a few seconds, sent a confirmation signal towards the Hurakog's integrated comm.
"Twenty seconds to touchdown," Sel 'Therum said over their op channel.
"Usze?" It was the Arbiter, not needing to completely voice the question he had.
"We're ready Arbiter," he responded. He flexed his grip on the Plasma Repeater in his hands, completely invisible just like the rest of him.
"Good. Stick to the plan. Radio silence begins now." The Arbiter clicked off the line turning his attention to the wall of the troop bay he was looking at, which would transform into the ramp he and his Mgalekgolo bodyguards would descend.
Sel started a countdown as he brought the Phantom in for a landing, and as a testament to his skill Thel didn't even feel the craft set down on its landing struts. He waited a moment to create some suspense, then turned his head and nodded at the four armored hulks behind him. He reached up and palmed the ramp release button, hearing the quiet cacophony of hydraulics and electronic mechanisms working to follow the basic command just given to them.
Bright, white light streamed into the troop bay through cracks as the ramp lowered, but Thel didn't squint or otherwise react. He drew himself to his full height of seven feet, ten inches and strode slowly yet confidently down the ramp. Immediately his eyes and mind went to work. Honed by a lifetime of conflict he took in and set about analysing his surroundings with the same vigor that a hungry predator might display when it was getting ready to pounce on an unsuspecting predator.
The hangar was straightforward. It was small for a hangar, maybe a hundred meters square, enough space for a few transport craft, buy General Petrovsky has said during their communications that it was his private hangar. Meticulously clean, the surroundings were bare of almost everything except for a few neat stacks of crates and a couple of data terminals along the walls, and a closed door at the far end of the hangar.
Fifteen meters straight in front of them stood five figures, a simple silver metal table, and two chairs of the same make. Four men a couple of meters behind the central figure were obviously guards, lightly armored, faces hidden behind dark visors, rifle butts sticking up over their shoulders and pistols visible on magplates on their hips.
The man in the center, who Thel assumed had to be their General Oleg Petrovsky, was dressed in brilliantly clean and formal military dress whites with black and gold trim. It was not unlike the kind he had seen UNSC officers wear during diplomatic occasions in his presence. Black shoulder pauldrons with golden stripes must have represented his rank, and the center fold-cut of his uniform was pinned to his shoulder by golden clasps and thin gold chains. He was of average height for a human, around six feet Thel guessed, and he was standing at easy attention with his hands clasped behind his back. His dark brown eyes were almost the same shade as his short hair and well-groomed mustache and beard, and were surveying Thel with the same intensity as he was surveying him.
Thel's gut made its judgement swiftly. This man was dangerous. Human facial and body expressions weren't his strongsuit, but he had hadn't fought with and against them for nearly three decades without learning a few things. Physically, the man who had to be General Petrovsky wasn't intimidating. Sure, he gave off an air of confidence and capability, but those were expected traits of a leader. It was the eyes that told Thel what he needed to know. They were sharp, cold, calculating. They sized Thel up as quickly and efficiently as a computer program, bereft of any type of emotional response that typically characterized the human race. Even when his eyes shifted to the four massive Mgalekgolo behind Thel, his expression showed none of the surprise or fear that he could see in the four Cerberus guards as they physically recoiled at the sight of their counterparts, albeit minutely.
Thel halted just behind the back of the chair, the main body of which was tucked under the silver metal table, mimicking the Cerberus General's stance. The Arbiter's bodyguards stood a couple of meters away, arm cannons and shields at their sides, sharp spines constantly bristling in a show of alien power and strangeness that the Arbiter knew was all dramatized.
"I am General Oleg Petrovsky, Commander of the Cerberus First Expeditionary Fleet." The man, Petrovsky, sounded much like he did over the comms: cool, collected, and confident. "To whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"I am Thel 'Vadam, Arbiter of the Sangheili people. Commander of the First Fleet of Lighted Repentance." He had made up his second sentence right there on the spot. First, while he was the Arbiter, the ships they had weren't his really. Rather, they fell into the overall command of Shipmaster R'tas 'Vadum. Secondly, the six ships they had were barely enough to constitute a proper task force, let alone an entire fleet. Thirdly, even if they did decide their relatively meager force constituted a fleet, issuing a fleet name was a sacred Sangheili tradition that had a strict set of protocols, and could not be chosen by one Sangheili, even the Arbiter.
"Care to sit?" Asked Petrovsky, gesturing with a hand towards his silver chair.
"No," Thel simply responded.
"Very well," he said, reaching a hand out to the surface of the metal table. He pressed a few small holographs that sprung to life at his movements, and suddenly the chairs folded in on themselves and were magnetically drawn back up into the bottom of the table. He tapped some more holographic keys, and out of the center of the table a small projector appeared, bursting to life with a full-color, high-definition of what used to be Noveria, just below eye-level. Previously as harsh world of snow and ice, it was still a harsh world, but now one of molten glass and roiling seas of magma.
They both stared at the ruined world for a few seconds before Petrovsky spoke. "Such destruction, such power, I've never seen anything like it."
"Regrettable, but necessary," said Thel.
"Why?" the General asked.
Thel resisted the urge to narrow his eyes in suspicion. Did he really not know about the research base on the planet below them that had hidden one of the Keys, and had been experimenting on the Flood? He doubted it." He kept a straight face, not that he thought the human would be able to read his expressions easily, but because it didn't hurt to be careful.
"We discovered a research base populated with a dangerous bio-organism which had gotten loose," Thel said, tone as neutral as the General's had been so far.
"And its presence necessitated the destruction of the entire planet?" Petrovsky asked, one eyebrow raised in the first real show of expression yet.
The Arbiter nodded slowly. "I find it hard to believe that you know nothing about what was going on down on the surface."
"You think I have reason to lie to you?"
"Yes. It cannot be mere coincidence that the markings on your vessel match the ones we saw inside the research base, that your fleet arrived right as we were conducting our operation, and that you call yourself Cerberus as well."
General Petrovsky smiled at him, revealing a set of perfect white teeth that contrasted greatly with the dark facial hair surrounding them. Years of familiarity with humans meant that the Arbiter no longer took the sign as one of aggression, like the baring of one's mandibles would have in his own society.
"It gladdens me to see you are not a fool Arbiter 'Vadam," Petrovsky said, voice completely lacking in condensation to Thel's surprise. "All of the assumptions you've made could be true. I could very well know everything there is to know about that former research base, and what was occurring there. But, I was not. "
"Tell me, what is Cerberus?"
The response was almost instant, but didn't sound rehearsed. "Cerberus is a private human organization that disagrees with the Systems Alliance, the current human government, specifically in terms of its methods and ideology concerning interaction with the rest of the galaxy. We believe that Humans are being treated unfairly on the galactic scale, and seek to amend that."
Interesting, thought Thel. A human splinter group, at odds with the current ruling government. His own people had splinter groups that still sought to adhere to the falseness of The Covenant. Those groups were labelled as heretics and terrorists, and were dealt with accordingly. "A private human organization that has the resources to commit to and build a fleet as large as yours, along with expensive research bases to experiment on dangerous bio-parasites?"
"Research bases that I know nothing about," Petrosky countered. "But yes. We are a rather large organization."
"Again, why should I believe you?" the tall Sangheili asked.
Petrovsky gestured out towards the walls of the hangar, and probably meant the entire ship, Thel thought. "My sphere of influence, my sphere of knowledge, really extends no further than my fleet. Yes, I have orders, but I am left to pursue those orders how I see fit, and often am not privy to information that my superiors think is irrelevant to those orders."
The General started running a hand along the smooth top of the table, eyes moving from Thel's to trace its movement. "You are distrustful of me, distrustful of my fleet. As am I towards you and your fleet. Perfectly reasonable, given that not only is this a First Contact Scenario, but also given the circumstances that surround it.
He stopped moving his hand, going back to staring Thel in the eyes. "I have no reason to lie to you, Arbiter 'Vadam. Like yourself, I am also not a fool. I have no illusions about the current situation, how your six ships could likely destroy the fifty of mine just as easily as you destroyed this planet. I promise, I had no idea Cerberus had a research base on Noveria until we arrived in-system and picked up a faint distress beacon."
Thel was silent for a few seconds. On one hand, he could detect no signs that General Petrovsky was doing anything but telling the truth. Yet on the other hand, he knew the Human race to be wily, manipulative, and sneaky at the worst of times, and downright devious mischievous at the best. So, he was taking everything the General said with a grain of sand until he had proof other than his word, however sincere he seemed. Proof which he hoped would have soon, assuming everything with 'Taham's Lance and the Huragok was still going to plan. Besides, at least the General knew that his fleet wouldn't last more than a few minutes against the combined firepower of the Sangheili warships, and thusly would likely not try anything underhanded in space.
"We encountered armored, humanoid troops within the research base," Thel said, choosing not to give an acceptance of belief to Petrovsky's admissions of truth and bringing up a different subject.
"I did sent a detachment down to investigate," the General said.
"They fired upon my own investigation team."
"A misunderstanding. We had not yet established communications by that point."
Thel grunted. "A misunderstanding," he repeated. His voice hid the anger that were it not for General Petrovsky's soldiers tieing up Ultra 'Harum's holding force, they might have bought themselves enough time to extract the four Mgalekgolo that they had had to leave behind. He figured it was time to get to the main line of questioning. "When you first contacted us your specific words were, 'I know both the location of the next artifact you seek, and how to retrieve it.' Explain."
Petrovsky nodded in understanding, not at all offended by the Sangheili's bluntness. With a few taps on the table he dismissed the picture of boiling Noveria and replaced it with a star chart of a section of the galaxy. Three numbered blobs of purple color were interspersed amongst the map, the first connected to the second by a line of similar colored purple, and the second connected to the third by a purple line as well.
"Not too long ago Cerberus Research and Development made breakthroughs in the reliable detection of Cherenkov radiation through the background noise of space."
Thel had to stop himself from snorting. Detection of Cherenkov radiation had been discovered several millennia ago by his species, and was child's play to even the most junior of sensor technicians. "And?"
"Our first major reading came from Earth, clocked a short while after you and the United Nations Space Command arrived above Earth," said Petrovsky.
"What do you know of the UNSC?" Thel asked. His curiosity had been piqued, he hadn't heard or sought any information about the UNSC since they set out on their search for the Keys.
"I know that they have allied themselves with most of the other major powers in the galaxy, and that they are aiding in the fight against the Reapers. Other than that, not much. The UNSC, and the Reapers at that, are not my concern nor related to my current objectives," said Petrovsky.
"Hmm," Thel allowed. If the General didn't want to expand upon the subject then neither would he. "Continue."
"Yes. Well, the second reading we detected came from that Asari mining colony you visited. I was able to see the aftermath of your encounter with the Reapers… very impressive."
"They got in our way," Thel said, not adding, Pray that you do not as well.
"The third reading we caught led us here to Noveria, and to us standing here now," the Cerberus General said.
"And the fourth reading?" the Arbiter questioned, following the thread that Petrovsky was laying down.
Another series of taps, and another image replaced the one of the galactic map, this one much more familiar to Thel.
Petrovsky motioned towards the mined-out asteroid. His apparent distaste for the station was apparent by the scowl on his face. "Omega has been a haven for criminals, pirates, terrorists, mercenaries, and other malcontents for thousands of years. You'll never find a more wretched hive and scum and villainy."
Thel frowned. Rather, he compressed his mandibles together tightly. Petrovsky was watching his expression, guessing correctly that Thel harbored as much hate for such lawless creatures as he did. "Let me guess, the fourth reading leads here, to this station. Omega."
Petrovsky nodded. "Correct. We also have recently come upon intelligence that says Aria T'Loak, the self-proclaimed overlord of Omega, is hiding a well-guarded and well-secured vault deep within her base of operations, a nightclub called 'Afterlife.' If you continue your trend of pursuing the sources of the Cherenkov radiation that we are detecting, than I am betting that whatever you are seeking is located there."
This information, was of course, very interesting to Thel. The Arbiter knew everything that Petrovsky had just told him regarding the location of the Key of course. He, and every other Sangheili under his command, had had images of Omega, Afterlife, and even the exact location of the Key vault, burned into their mind along with a set of coordinates that they could follow through slipspace to get there through the Transmittance. However, General Petrovsky didn't know that he knew. Instead, he was trying to use the information of the Key's location as a bargaining chip, to get him and his Sangheili to agree to something. But to what? That would have to be his next question.
Also, Petrovsky had revealed the method to which they had been tracked. Cherenkov radiation. It couldn't be from his ships, as their slipspace drives had been made to mask the signature radiation some years ago. The Keys had to be giving off the radiation whenever Transmittance occurred. That also might explain how the Reapers had beaten them to the Asari mining colony. He wondered if there was a detachment of the space-Parasites travelling here to Noveria, or to Omega, as they spoke.
"I suppose this information comes at price?" asked Thel warily.
"No. I give this knowledge away in good faith," the Human said, smiling slightly. "Instead, what I propose is a temporary mutual alliance."
"I'm listening," was Thel's gruff response.
"See, our objectives intersect. My goals are to take over the station and expel Aria T'Loak and her followers. Your goal is to recover the artifact on the same station. Standing between both of us are dozens of mercenary warships in space and thousands of heavily armed, hardened criminals in the station itself."
"You want us to help with your takeover of the station?"
"No. My troops are more than prepared to take the station by themselves, but each one of my ships holds a significant portion of soldiers. The more vessels I lose in naval combat around the station, the less troops I have to commit to the station assault. I saw the kind of power that your warships possess. All I ask is for assistance in dispatching Omega's warships. Once that is accomplished and the station is secure, your contingent came come and retrieve the artifact."
Petrovsky's proposal was exactly what Thel was expecting. "And then? After all of that is done?"
The Cerberus General shrugged. "We depart on our separate ways if you prefer. No questions asked. Or, we could continue our communications, if that would be something you desire."
Thel was silent for a few seconds, giving the appearance of mulling the proposition over. In reality, his decision had already been made. "I accept your proposal. We shall assist in engaging Omega's defense fleet."
General Petrovsky smiled.
They had spent the rest of the meeting discussing stratagem on fleet integration, engagement tactics, and going over potential enemy deployment patterns. Thel, his guards, and the stealth operatives that had remained undetected had departed the Cerberus General's flagship with no issues.
Now, the Arbiter was back on the Shadow of Intent's command bridge along with Shipmaster R'tas 'Vadum, going over the data that Lance Leader 'Taham had successfully extracted.
"So. We kill them?" asked R'tas.
"Yes. But not yet," Thel answered.
The data was really quite clear. General Petrovsky had, like Thel had suspected, been lying through his teeth. He had known about the research base on Noveria and what was going on inside, had orders to reclaim the base after the Flood had escaped and killed everyone, and had sent troops down to the base not to 'investigate' like he had said, but rather to try and retrieve any sample of the original Parasitic powder that they could. Foolish.
They had also come across after-action reports and news segments of a massive terrorist attack by Cerberus upon a place called the Citadel, apparently a space station even larger than Omega and the center of government for the other civilizations that populated the galaxy, where thousands of innocent people had been killed. How hypocritical, Thel thought, considering how scornful Petrovsky had been of the terrorists he said were on Omega. He would have to get in contact with the UNSC soon, the Arbiter decided. It would soon be time to fill them in on what they were doing. After they finished with this Omega business that was. After all, despite their differences, both factions could get behind putting down these honorless terrorists.
"Let them waste their forces on clearing out the station of its resisting inhabitants?" R'tas assumed.
Thel nodded in the affirmative. "Once that is done, you burn their ships, and I'll lead the assault that will wipe them from the station that they have just claimed. We need a base of operations. This is as perfect an opportunity as we could hope for."
The bar was like most others she had been to on Omega. Dark, smoky, grungy, and small, with a skanky name that she had forgotten as soon as she stepped through the open door. Various unsavory characters seated at the few tables in the room gave her a passing glance, then returned to their food, drink, and hushed conversation. The woman took a quick look around, locating the actual bar in the back of the room. She walked over and sat down in a squeaky wooden stool, watching as the Batarian bartender lazily made his way over to her.
"Whatcha want?" He asked with with a hint of disinterest. He didn't much care for humans.
"Blue Palaven. Neat," she responded. The bartender nodded, heading over to make her drink over.
"A Blue Palaven? A woman after my own heart."
She turned her head to the right, seeing a man looking at her two stools down the bar. She took a loose strand of shoulder length black hair and started twirling it in her fingers. The man's own sandy blonde hair was close cropped, and his blue eyes were bright even in the gloomy bar light. He was smiling slightly, looking not quite straight at her.
The bartender returned with her drink, and the woman didn't let the glass sit on the wooden bar surface for even a second before she had taken it in her hand, risen it to her mouth, and downed it in one motion.
"Two this time," the man said to the bartender. He was looking at her fully now, body turned around in his stool. "I can probably count the number of people who can drain a shot of Blue Palaven in one go on both hands."
"I'm no stranger to liquor," the woman said, full, red lips smirking at him. She propped an elbow on the bar, resting her cheek on a fist and returning the man's gaze.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"Joanne." A lie.
"Garrett," he responded. Also a lie.
"So Garrett, come here often?"
"Eh. Only every so often. To relax, you know."
"Pretty quiet place from what I gather. Out of the way," Joanne observed.
"Exactly, said Garrett."
The bartender returned with both of their drinks. "Cheers," said Garrett, raising his glass, a gesture which Joanne returned.
They both downed their respective Blue Palavens, slamming the shot glasses down on the bar in unison. Then, they both looked into each other's eyes for a long moment, dark green locked with light blue. Without any verbal communication, both parties reached a mutual decision.
"Wanna get out of here?" Joanne whispered to confirm, just the right amount of seductiveness laced into her voice.
"Yes," was Garrett's quick, equally hushed reply.
"I've got a place down the street," Joanne said as they both stood up and headed quickly for the door, Garrett laying down a credit chip on the bar.
"Guddamn what I wouldn't give to be a girl. A little purr in your voice and a flash of some cleavage and you've got almost any man right where you want them."
Zaeed Massani watched as Jack, recently known as both Subject Zero and 'Joanne', finally wrangled off her wig, revealing her shaved sides and long chestnut hair on top, which she tied into a ponytail behind her head. Next came the fake contacts, which she dumped into a nearby trash bin.
Jack looked at Zaeed, snarling, but her brown eyes gave away her hidden playful mirth. "Men have it easier. Trust me."
Zaeed chuckled. "If you say so."
The bounty hunter looked down to 'Garret' rendered unconscious by a rifle but to the back of the head, and bent over him. He grunted, lifting the man's limp form into a nearby metal chair. Jostling the body into position, he fixed the metal shackles and leg clamps to Garret, securing him in place.
"Ready?"
"Yeah. Wake the bastard up."
Zaeed walked over to the corner of the small, concrete room, and picked up a bucket of water. With a mighty heave he launched the liquid at the restrained man's face, soaking him thoroughly and causing him to come to in a sputter of gasps and coughs.
"Evan Walker. Or is it Garrett now?"
Walker's eyes focused on the voice instinctively. "Zaeed Massani. I knew it was too much to hope that you were really dead."
Zaeed crouched on the balls of his feet so that he was at eye level with Walker. His grin was nothing but predatory. "You know me Walker. This old dog still knows a few tricks."
"Whatever you want from me you're not gonna get, so you might as well just kill me now," the bound man said with conviction.
False conviction. Zaeed could see right through his brave face. He'd been playing the game much longer than Walker had. "Come off it. You haven't even heard me offer yet."
Walker remained silent. Zaeed stood, walking around Walker slowly. "It's quite simple really. Tell me who told you to firebomb that apartment block you thought we were in, and I'll let you go. Easy."
"If I do that Aria will have me killed."
Zaeed shrugged. "I'll get you a ticket off Omega. Anywhere you want."
"They'll still find me."
"Well that's a chance you'll just have to take. Otherwise…" He let the question trail off intentionally, both men knowing what it meant.
"Go to hell," Walker snarled, shooting daggers at Zaeed with his eyes.
"You asked for it." Zaeed withdrew from the chair to the shadowed corner of the room where Jack was waiting. He leaned in close and whispered gruffly into her ear, "He's all yours, but remember, don't kill him until he talks. There's only so many links left to Aria, and he knows how to get to the most important one."
Jack just nodded. She already knew what Zaeed was telling her, but it didn't hurt to reiterate things. She strode over to Walker and looked down at him, seeing only a hate-filled glare returned back.
"Evan Walker," she cooed, "Aria T'Loak's Chief Operations Officer. Womanizer. Rapist. Murderer. You know, Zaeed wasn't lying. Tell us what we want to know about your boss, and you get to go. Promise."
Walker gave up nothing but silence. Jack sighed, flexing her hands. Blue biotic energy started to swirl around them.
"Ya'know, most people who get on a biotic's bad side get smashed up pretty good. Crushed into paste, lifted and dropped off cliffs, you get the drift. Man, I remember this one time… ah, never mind. Sure has taught me the best way to wash blood off clothes. But I've been there, done that. Just beating you up would be… boring. I'm into originality. I've been trying this new thing, still not very good at it yet. It's all about making the biotics small, precise. Practice makes perfect, they say. I sneezed the last time I tried it, guy got a massive brain aneurysm. Let's see what happens this time…"
Walker's lips remained tightly-pressed together, but Zaeed could see the man's face lose a couple of shades of color even from across the room.
"Tell me Evan," Jack continued, the ensuing questioned rhetorical. "Have you ever had your windpipe crushed? You blood vessels shut? Your brain compressed in your skull? Your lungs scratched and torn - from the inside? Your heart intentionally stopped, then started again? Nothing enough to kill you… well not right away, at least. But enough to make you wish it was. No? Well, allow me to introduce you to some… unique sensations."
Zaeed watched her work with one part fascination, one part grimace. She had gotten quite good at her unique brand of torture. He didn't really like having to use physical pain to extract information from subjects, but sometimes they just didn't know what was best for them, and Massani was known as a man with little patience. As he watched the biotic aura around Jack's hands oscillate, and saw and heard the resulting squirms and cries of pain, he once again thought back to how he had ended up partnered with the tough, skilled, ruthless woman.
After Shepard had turned the Normandy SR-2 over to the Systems Alliance, its crew went their separate ways. The Commander, Doctor T'Soni, Joker, and EDI had gone to the Alliance. Vakarian had gone back to Palaven. Tail had gone back to the Flotilla. Grunt had gone back to Tuchanka. Legion had gone back to the Geth. Doctor Solus had gone back to Sur'Kesh. Samara had gone back to some planet in the Asari Republics. . Thane had gone back to the Citadel and his son. Kasumi had just disappeared. Miranda and Jacob had gone into hiding for their betrayal of Cerberus.
But for Zaeed, it was different. His mission, the goal he had been working towards for years, had been accomplished with the help of Shepard. The Blue Suns were now in tatters. Vido Santiago was dead. What had been left for him? More bounty hunter contracts or mercenary work? Retirement? But where? His home had been where the money was. He had no roots, no home to return to after the workday was completed. He hadn't known what he was going to do, until that is he had seen that Jack had been in even a worse position that he had.
Jack had nothing except the clothes on her back. Her home had been the Normandy, and her family had been its crew, but both had departed, leaving her with well-wishes and offers to come to Earth. Jack had known that she wouldn't fit in there. Zaeed hadn't been about to let the young woman strike out on her own, tough as she might have been, so he had extended a hand of partnership which she had readily taken. He had found them some easy bounty hunter contracts to test the waters, which they had succeeded greatly at. As Zaeed lined up increasingly difficult, and increasingly lucrative contracts, he had taken Jack under his wing and taught her everything he knew about surviving and thriving in the more shade-filled corners of galactic society. For three months they had done this, living from contract to contract while Zaeed imparted all of his knowledge and experience on Jack, who took it in like a plant taking in sunlight.
However, Zaeed's re-entrance into the contract market had upset some, and presented an opportunity for others. The remnants of the Blue Sun, probably some eager Captain who was trying to fill the power void left by Vido's death, had sought to establish his supremacy by killing the man who had beheaded their organization. By paying Aria T'Loak an exorbitant amount of money, that top Whore of Omega had given the new Blue Suns Captain the location of the apartment block that Zaeed and Jack were staying at between jobs.
Or rather, where they had been staying. Old habits died hard, so Zaeed had used the apartment block as a front, while he and Jack had actually stayed in a dingy hotel down the street. They had watched as the apartment block, populated with hundreds of men, women, and children of all species, burned to the ground. Their quest for revenge had started then, one part to kill those who wanted to kill them, another part to atone for the innocent lives lost because of them. That second part, seeking revenge for wrongdoings done on other people, was new for Zaeed. Perhaps Shepard had rubbed off on him more than he had thought.
Either way in the next three months they had eliminated the remaining leadership of the Blue Suns, including that new Captain who Zaeed had cut up very slowly with his knife, until they had found out that Aria was behind the entire thing. Thus, why they now had her Chief Operations Officer, who had assisted the Blue Suns in firebombing the apartment block, shackled to a metal chair and currently reevaluating his life choices.
"Stop. Please God, stop. I'll tell you everything, just stop…" the man sobbed.
Jack stopped her biotic torture, glancing at Zaeed with a corner of her mouth upturned in a smirk. Zaeed raised his eyebrows in quiet amusement. They always talked after a session with Jack.. He walked slowly over to Walker, who had his head down and was breathing raggedly.
"There's a secure server… in a safehouse I have in the Third Block. Everything you need is in there. The address and server information are in my omni-tool. Take it, and please just let me go," he whimpered.
Zaeed did take the man's omni-tool, marveling at how quick the man had succumbed. Jack really was gifted.
Just then, a loud crackle came from outside, one which they both recognized as the station-wide public announcement system.
"CITIZENS OF OMEGA! THIS IS YOUR RULER, ARIA T'LOAK. CERBERUS, A HUMAN TERRORIST ORGANIZATION, IS ATTACKING THE STATION! THEY AIM TO DEPOSE ME, AND ALL OF YOU ALONG WITH ME. TO ARMS! REPEL THE INVADERS, OR DIE BY THEIR HANDS!"
Jack and Zaeed shared a look, equal parts hatred for Aria and Cerberus, curiosity about what was going on, and indecision of what to do next.
"What's our move?" Jack asked.
Zaeed tucked his new omni-tool into a compartment on his belt. He then drew his Paladin pistol in one smooth motion and put a bullet in Walker's head, not bothering to return it to its hip magplate. "Follow me."
Special thanks to my betas JonHarper and Bearmauls