"You look terrible." Oleg's brand twisted as his face became a mask of concern in the mirror. Jack shook his head and splashed more water in his face, the room dimming a little every time he blinked. "You always said the Citadel gave you a headache. Trouble sleeping?"
"Bad dreams." Jack did not turn around, but his eyes did flick to Oleg's in the mirror. The man looked a little slumped himself. Should I tell him? It's been so long since I saw the Outsider. Jack opened his mouth, but the words could not come out. I did a bad thing. I know it. It's another to know that somewhere, across the galaxy, your due is hurtling towards you. A turian…
"I don't think any of us ever sleep easy, Jack." Oleg stepped forward and clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. He was always surprised at the firmness of the older man's grip. "You said you were leaving today. Try to get some sleep on the flight."
All my dreams are wreathed in gold. Jack still nodded wearily and turned to Oleg, resting himself against the edge of the sink.
"Once Dantius is dealt with, I'll be heading home to regroup. I expect to see you there."
Oleg clapped his hands and spread them wide. "Nowhere else to be, Jack. I'll conclude my business here and begin planning our next move … once you let me know what that is."
Heads will roll. Of that much Jack was certain. It was just a prickly question of whose, and when. I was too hasty with Desolas. Much too hasty. The timing … I couldn't see all of the connections and implications. The man had to die, but…
Not then. And especially not in front of his brother.
The mark on Jack's hand burned. Across the galaxy, a blazing star cut a bloody path through Dunwall. Void knew how long it would take or what route Saren would use, but Jack knew where the turian's journey ended. Jack took a long hard look in the mirror, the water running in rivulets down his craggy face. A guilty man stared back.
Oleg moved with a swiftness and surety of movement that Jack would not have expected. His somewhat botched duel against Jacob Taylor had revealed the cracks growing from age, and the man rarely if ever went on missions. It was one thing to get from Point A to Point B; the Overseers taught their people well when it came to accomplishing tasks. But it was magic that let a Hound skip straight to Point C, where the target was, and plant a dagger in their necks.
Still, Oleg moved through the crowds of aliens with an alacrity Jack would have expected from Leng, Banes, or Miranda. Despite bearing no arms, his hooded visage and strong arms still meant that people parted before him, and he had no problems gently shifting others aside as he made his way through the Presidium. Despite his face being twisted with the Heretic's Brand (only barely covered by a dusting of makeup), he passed by human and turian C-Sec officers without fear, head unbowed. Contrast me. Slinking along up high, through the keeper tunnels.
Jack's padded boots made barely a whisper as he half-crouched through the shrouded tunnels, what little light there was dancing crazily with the shadows of clock gears. The keepers ignored Jack as they turned levers and cranks on the walls, their glittering eyes dull and incurious. Jack in turn only paid them mind when he rounded a corner and came face to face with one of the wretched things, making him jump. If he didn't feel uncomfortable using any of his powers on the Citadel, he would have let the Void enhance his gaze and be done with it … but the clock at the center of the Presidium saw all. A small chill ran down Jack's spine every time he saw it.
Oleg crossed one of the bridges below, pausing momentarily to glance at a hanar surrounded by turians, its tentacles gesticulating with an unusual wildness. Jack waited above, taking care not to even breathe too loudly, and trying not to fully comprehend just how much air lay between himself and the ground. Oleg moved on, shaking his head. Whatever the hanar was ranting about, the Hound was having none of it. Jack looked on for a few moments longer. The frozen clock loomed above the hanar, and Jack watched it with a curious unease. The mark on his hand tingled.
Oleg stopped in the center of the next bridge, his palms pressed flat against the edge. He looked down into the bright waters below. If you're looking for fish, friend, you are going to be disappointed. Jack settled against the edge of the keeper tunnel high above, readying himself for the push. He needed to know what Oleg was doing, even if it meant doing so in the most hostile part of the Citadel. The clock loomed ominously in its strained silence, its very presence oppressive. Oleg tapped his foot impatiently below.
Two more humans, a man and a woman, each clad in the outfits of tourists: a sharp gray suit for the man, a light brown dress for the lady. Diplomats? Jack's fingers gripped the ledge of the keeper tunnel. A betrayal? The knuckles whitened. Please. Don't let this be what I think it is…
The man raised a hand in greeting. Oleg turned, his posture turning from stiff to relaxed. The woman rushed forward, catching the Hound in an embrace. What is this? Jack stared down at the three of them as Oleg and the man exchanged a warm handshake, the woman still touching Oleg's arm. What … what is this?
It had to be done. There was no room for supposition here. Jack clenched his left hand and reached out for Oleg, conscience twinging. Sorry old friend. Jack shut his eyes … and opened Oleg's.
"…still working for that outfit?" asked the man. Up close, his features looked familiar, like a de-aged Oleg who had gotten to eat better as a child. His eyes lacked that same sharpness, though, and the noses were of different length. "I mean, I don't want to know the details, but-"
"Still working for them. For now." Jack felt Oleg's face form a genuine smile. He turned to the woman, and she at least was a total stranger with short red hair brought up in a ponytail. "It's not important. I … I heard he got worse."
"There's been complications." Up close, Jack could see the bags under her eyes and the pallor of the woman's skin. Someone else hasn't been sleeping. "It's something wrong with his heart, something they didn't pick up. I had to force him to stop working; he kept insisting that he felt fine, he was taking his medications and the surgery had taken. But…"
"He's laid up in bed," explained the man as the lady bit her lip. "Slightest bit of activity gets his heart all excited. It's why he couldn't come. Frankly, I don't want to leave him too long."
"And the child?" Oleg asked, his eyes turning to the woman's torso. Jack's own heart sped up a bit when he saw the bump.
"Fine, we think. But I don't…" The woman paused for a moment, shutting her eyes. "…I don't want him growing up without a dad. If nothing else, please, I just want my child to know who his father was."
"What are the treatment options?" asked Oleg, looking to the two of them.
"There is something experimental. The Academy of Natural Philosophy cooked something up back at Dunwall." The man folded his arms. "But, ah … it's costly. Not guaranteed to work. And getting one of those philosophers out here, seeing as we can't move Jacob – that's just going to add to it." He looked away, shifted in place. "Eighty thousand. Conservative estimate."
"I can get that money." Oleg offered a palm. "I'm not going to let him die. I'll just need some time to … move that money to you." Oleg's face twisted. "A month, perhaps. Maybe two. Does he have that time?"
The two strangers looked at each other. The woman's lip wobbled.
"There's been a substantial payout in my work," Oleg continued, clenching his hand, which shook slightly. "I'll get it to you. I swear it, Michael. Rebekah. He's not going to die."
"I believe you," said the man, Michael apparently, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "But forgive me if I don't plant all our hopes on a miracle. You've done more than enough for this family, especially given your obligations."
"Your letters got me through Whitecliff," said Oleg, and Jack felt a stab in his gut as he finally understood. "It's time to return the favor. I haven't always been able to be here for you and Jacob, Michael, but I'm here now. Okay?" He reached out and took both of their hands, squeezing them reassuringly. "I'll take care of everything."
The two of them stared at Oleg sadly. Rebekah mouthed the word "okay." High above, Jack felt his breath catch in his throat. I shouldn't be seeing this.
"Will you come and see him?" asked Michael, releasing himself from Oleg's grip. Jack felt his old friend's face contort.
"I don't want to surprise him. And I have a schedule to keep." He let go of Rebekah's hand, letting it drop to her side. "Let him know I love him. Remind him of the Strictures. Tell him I'll see him soon."
The conversation dissolved into a too-long series of goodbyes, and Jack pulled away from it all, stomach feeling hollow. So. He held on to his family…
It was not unheard of for Overseers to exchange letters with the remnants of their old lives. Forbidden, yes, but common and frequently overlooked. Oleg, in all his stiffness and professionalism … Jack would never have guessed. He would certainly never have guessed the man would maintain those contacts during his years as a heretic.
Jack slumped against the wall and slid down, feeling dirty. Trying to keep his family out of the line of fire. Trying to make sure they're safe. How many other Hounds kept secrets from him like this? Did Miranda still send letters to the Duke of Shanxi? Somehow Jack could not imagine it. But any of the others? They were strangers compared to Oleg, a man Jack thought he knew. He was right to want to keep this from me. He trusted me not to violate his privacy.
Jack's fingers rapped against his knee. His head pounded. There was only one way to make this right. His omnitool sparked into life on his wrist.
"Outie? Is the connection secure?"
"The connection is secure, sir." The VI's voice came in through loud and clear, despite the considerable distance between them. "What appears to be the matter?"
"Look up relations of Oleg Petrovsky. Dig through the old Abbey records. Find Jacob, Michael, and Rebekah Petrovsky. Names might have changed but I doubt it." Jack paused, thinking. The batarians were generous. They always pay well when they want to take a life. And now, in the balance, they will save another. Jack heaved a deep breath.
"One hundred thousand. Arrange it so it looks like an unexpected inheritance, or something. Whatever is most legal and least suspicious. Can you do this?"
"Cash transfer will be underway within the day, sir." Jack nodded, smiling a little to himself. "Do you wish to attach a message, sir?"
Jack closed his eyes, thinking. Something appropriate came to mind.
"You were always there for me. For love of family."
Oleg would get the message. Perhaps he might even forgive Jack for his trespass. If nothing else, sleep would come a little easier tonight.
The ring of the fasten seatbelts bell rose Jack from his slumber. He glanced blearily to his left and right, his head throbbing from the dreams. Gold. Bright gold. At least he no longer had to worry about what kind of message the Outsider was sending. It was loud and clear now. He's coming for you. You're running out of time.
Jack glanced out the viewport to his left. Illium shone a luminescent emerald below, the entire planet encrusted with sparkling asari architecture. No justicars, please. I have enough people after me already. The ship began to shake as it entered the atmosphere, and Jack slid the viewport cover shut.
It had been a while since Jack last visited Illium. Truth be told, he preferred it that way. The place possessed a lawlessness about it that made him uneasy. Omega, at least, was upfront about the kind of villainy most of its denizens got up to, and precautions could be taken with little difficulty. With Illium, it was hard to tell which alleyway was the right one in his line of work. And that was without thinking about the risk of running into justicars, a very real problem in doing business within asari space.
Batarians didn't mind marked individuals wandering through their territory so long as they were given some warning. Salarians would overlook minor infractions to maintain the status quo. The Empire possessed a hell of a lot of people who resented the Abbey. The turians at least were consistent; turn up in their space, they would kill you stone dead.
The asari … well, ninety percent of them found Jack fascinating. The other ten percent wanted to see what the color of his blood looked like, and there were no other people in the galaxy better suited to spill it.
Absentmindedly, Jack felt for left breast, traced a finger down the cloth. Just one of several scars "gifted" to him by asari sword sisters. Two hundred years of swordplay practice and biotics, one had said, smirking as he bled out on the floor. Never try to take an asari from the front. Or alone, if you can help it. Which was why two Hounds waited for him down below.
The descent went by with only a little popping of the ears and whining of children. Jack sat quietly by himself, mouth dry, legs stiff, and head throbbing. If we have time, might be worth finding a hanar eatery and actually … sitting down for a bit. If nothing else, a bit of Illium vintage might steady his nerves for a little while, before they took on Dantius. The ship slowed, its docking mechanisms clanking as it hitched on to the central Nos Astra port. The asari to Jack's right stirred from her sleep, her own glasses falling askew.
"Ah, thank the Goddess I slept through that one." The asari smiled at Jack. "Did you sleep well?"
Jack shrugged. "I dreamt of gold."
"Gold? How curious!" The asari laughed lightly, and then touched his shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. "I dreamt that I had to tell you something," she whispered, and Jack's hair began to stand on end. "Do you think that means anything?"
"Quiet." Jack adjusted his glasses, making sure they were planted firmly on the bridge of his nose. Outsider speaking through asari now? What is this?
The asari giggled. "You should go to the Temple of the Goddess on Tenth. You'll know it when you see it. Humans always love seeing the trees and the brickwork, the artistry … you should stay for the Festival of Petals!" The asari leaned back. "I don't know why, but I just think you should go. Are you staying long on Illium?"
"Not if I can help it." Jack shrunk back against the viewport. The fasten seatbelt bell rang again, and everyone began unbuckling themselves. "Did … did he tell you to do this?"
"No, no," said the asari, frowning. "I don't remember the details, but I'm very sure it was a woman."
Jack staggered through security with his heart humming. All around him asari in various hues chatted to one another, luggage dragging behind them or clutched in strong blue fingers. The customs officials were far less smiley than all the other asari, but they still gave Jack no trouble as he presented his credentials.
"No wire charms?" one asked wryly as she examined Jack's fake ID.
"Sorry, must have left them at home." Jack immediately regretted that rejoinder, but the asari only gave him an eyeroll.
"Cute, but everything seems to be in order." The asari slid the ID back to him, her security uniform glimmering with inlaid pearl and gold. Jack's eyes focused on the saber hilt at her hip. "Take extra care while on Illium. Not everyone will appreciate that cuteness. Next!"
Jack's heart did not stop pounding as he advanced past the luggage claim, eyes peeled for Miranda and whoever she had brought with her. Leng, most likely. He never passes up on putting aliens to the sword. Still, his wound had been troubling him, and there were others Jack was happy to fight alongside. Glancing around, he saw salarians waving cardboard signs with improbably long names written on them, a gaggle of sharply dressed volus being carefully watched over by a Palvanus, and a single massive one-eyed krogan wearing a tricorn hat whom everyone had given a wide berth. It took him a moment to find his people, clad in red whaling leathers.
"Good to see you two," said Jack, striding up. Miranda stared up at him with a half-smile, hair held back under her hood. The other-
"Banes," said Jack, slightly surprised. He nevertheless offered his free hand, which Banes shook firmly with a grin. "A pleasant surprise. Glad Aria couldn't keep you out of here, too."
"Wasn't happy to hear I'd be dealing with more asari, boss," said Banes, curly black hair flattened against his head from the humidity, "but Leng kept whining about his wound, and Miranda said you'd want a professional. Do I qualify?"
"You're about the only one of us who might be able to keep up with one of those devilesses in swordplay." Jack jerked his head towards the exit. "Well, one of the slow ones, anyway. Quite happy to have you along."
The three of them exited the port and into the blasted heat of Illium at high noon. Jack's breath felt cold against his lips, and he could feel the sweat forming underneath his clothing. A shower will be welcome. And the heat is just another reason to stick to a night op.
"Rental. Right there." Miranda pointed to a sleek back sky-carriage stamped with some Illium company's logo. "Ours for the week."
"We won't be here that long." Jack slid into the passenger's seat while Banes took the back and Miranda grabbed the wheel. She flipped the hood of her whaler's outfit back and donned her own sunglasses. If Jack hadn't known any better, he would have said she looked like a real professional whaler, here on Illium for business. Technically true, but still all wrong.
"Hotel?" asked Jack. Miranda flashed a thumbs up. "Good. I can feel my clothing sticking to me. I would like to make a detour, though."
"Where to?" asked Miranda, looking back as the sky-carriage jerked up and backwards into the air.
"Temple of Athame on Tenth," said Jack, hoping this would not prove to be a mistake. "I was told it's a thing of beauty."
"Outsider Shrine?" asked Banes from the back. Jack did not reply. This only made Banes chuckle. "Outsider Shrine."
Like most buildings in Illium, the temple's base lay far below where the traffic flew, deep under a line of smoke where the slums and industry lay. Unlike most buildings in Illium, it possessed only a single entrance as opposed to many.
"Street level access? Really?" Miranda completed her third circuit around the single glittering green spire of the Temple of the Goddess, glaring down at the structure. "We're going to have to go in low. Masks."
"Yeah." Jack pulled his whaling mask from out behind him and slotted it into place, immediately feeling his warm breath blow back against his face. He checked behind him. Banes, similarly masked, flashed a cheery thumbs up. The carriage angled downward, and the glittering green of Illium gave way to something a bit more dark and sickly.
The carriage landed amidst a small crowd of smaller, rustier vehicles from across the street. The streets teemed with life, but very little of it appeared to be asari. Oh, sure, asari in smart black uniforms could be seen on every street, barking instructions, but the bulk of the local population appeared to be a mix of salarian, turian, even elcor and quarian, all carrying huge basket on their backs or atop their heads.
"What do they call it here? Contracted servitude?" Jack sucked in a breath. The carriage engine died and they stepped out smartly. The air hung heavy with smoke, here. "I can think of another name for it."
"Boss, with all due respect, at least these slave drivers didn't bring scourges with them," said Banes, and Jack sighed. Yes. Mustn't forget the crimes of our erstwhile allies, should we? Jack motioned for them to carry onward.
A cracked granite ramp took them down to true street level. Jack expected odd stares, but as it turned out they were hardly the only whalers in town. The mask and blades were much in evidence, and some even dipped their mask down and took nips from amber bottles. Drunken laughter spiraled into the night on every street corner a pub was open, and they even passed by a trio of humans singing something about a drunken whaler. Jack mouthed the lyrics under his mask as he went by.
The Temple of the Goddess loomed high overhead. To Jack's surprise, the entrance before the steps was heavily gated, and two asari carrying heavy repeating rifles watched their approach. Their armor stood out from the murk of the lower levels, featuring an iridescent green sheen and leaf pattern. As Jack grew closer, he realized that the vine patterning on the breastplate was, in fact, vines. The walls which they manned similarly featured a thick layer of moss and roots, and the smell of smoke and industry faded in favor of a slightly ill-maintained garden.
It could have been Jack's imagination, but the light grew a little brighter as he approached the gate.
"You!" One of the asari called out, leaving her repeater on her shoulder with one hand as she pointed to Jack with the other hand. "You are expected! But your friends are not."
"Expected?" asked Banes, but Jack just held up a hand.
"I have precious little reason to be here already, and I'm not going in without a guard."
"Men are not permitted to enter the Temple of the Goddess," called out the asari. She pointed to Miranda. "She may enter." She pointed to Banes. "He may not."
Jack coughed politely. "I know you're a monogendered folk, so perhaps it may have escaped you, but I am, in fact, a man."
"The Goddess is grudgingly making an exception." The asari's eyes were visible from beneath her helmet. Something flashed green in them. "Your woman may enter. Your man may not."
"Listen, I'm on a schedule-"
"Yes, Jack, we are aware."
Jack's heart leapt in his throat. He could only scared, mouth agape under the mask, as the asari stared down at him with … distaste? Hunger? It was hard to tell.
"You're not going anywhere, Jack, without first visiting here. The Goddess wishes to speak with you, an honor to be sure. Walk away, and I can guarantee a justicar will be on top of you within the hour."
"I see." Jack shut his eyes beneath the mask. He could hear Banes muttering something to himself on his left. Miranda, in contrast, remained stock still, a hand on the hilt of her saber. Jack shrugged. "Banes, wait with the carriage."
"You got it, boss."
Jack looked to Miranda. Her neck turned stiffly to him.
"I don't see much choice in this. Do you?"
She shook her head. Jack turned back to the gate.
"All right. If this is a trap, I'm taking as many of you with me as I can."
"As you will." The guard whistled, a high and piercing note that made Jack's ears ring. The vine-adorned gate of the temple creaked open with a rustle of leaves. The smell of mold and growth grew stronger as they took their steps forward up the steps, leaving Banes behind. The gate creaked shut again behind them. "Up the steps, to the door."
Leaves crunched underfoot. Up close, it became clear that some of the iridescent green of the temple was in fact, plant life. Bright orange and pink flowers dotted either side of the staircase, growing in thick clumps, while trees with dense canopies and heavy vines flanked them at regular intervals. Jack's nose twitched. His eyes ran up and down the plant life.
"These aren't asari plants." He pointed, and Miranda followed his finger. A clump of purple flowers grew amidst a sea of foliage. "I've seen those. Back home. In Whitecliff."
"Yeah." Miranda's fist remained clamped on the hilt of her blade. "I thought I smelled something familiar. Dragon Daisies. I kept them in my room." She pointed to the grass. Small, bright red flowers poked up from among the blades. "Way back when, in Shanxi. Didn't know the asari thought so highly of our plant life. Thought they had rules about this sort of thing. Invasive species, or something."
"Yeah," said Jack, sniffing. The place smelled of nostalgia. "Yeah, they do."
They continued up the steps, enjoying themselves more than either would ever admit. The smoke, grime, and slavery behind them gave way to the closest thing they would find to a forest on the planet. It was almost a shock to reach the top of the steps. The doors were already flung open. An asari clad in what Jack could only describe as bark armor waited for them, twigs sticking from the shoulders of her uniform.
"Welcome, Mr. Harper. Miss Lawson. Be welcome among us." The asari bowed her head. Jack could not help but note the green tinge of her skin. He had seen asari hued a slight green before … but this woman verged on emerald. As she lifted her head and smiled at them, he thought he detected a hint of moss on her teeth. "She is waiting for you. It will be much like communing with He That Waits. You know of whom I speak."
"Who exactly will I be speaking to?" asked Jack.
"The Goddess, of course. She occasionally sees fit to intercede." The asari bowed again and smiled. Then, without warning, she vanished, leaving only a shower of petals in her wake. Jack started, and Miranda wrenched her blade a few inches free in her scabbard. But no attack came. The hair stood up on Jack's neck.
"Miranda, things are getting a little weird," he muttered through gritted teeth. Miranda actually gave a short bark of laughter. "Watch the right, all right? I'll keep an eye on the left."
Pollen hung heavy on the inside of the temple. Colorful paintings festooned the walls, frequently depicting buildings and people, both alien and human. A scarred man in a whaler suit at some kind of ritual table, a crinkled paper in his hand. A rendition of Empress Emily Kaldwin I, as a child. Abstract images of stone and wind … the Void. Something felt wrong.
A single stone path cut through the dark green. A rune sat twinkling on a shrine of moss and bark at the end of it. A large statue of a woman, roughly fifteen feet tall, stood over it. The features of the statue were worn away … Jack couldn't even tell if it was an asari. Should that even be in doubt? Yet, between the plants and the paintings, something felt all too close to home, here. They proceeded down the path, knuckles whitening on their blades.
"Jack, I really don't like this."
"Really? I'm having a wonderful time."
The balconies on either side of them remained barren of people. The entire temple appeared empty. Yet, as they stepped before the shrine, a single bell rang overhead, loud and eerie. Jack stepped forward with a deep breath.
"If something goes wrong, just make sure to get out of here alive." Jack glanced back at Miranda, who nodded. "Finish what we started. Find Dantius. Beat the relevant information out of her. Continue onward. For as long as you can. For as long as necessary. Got me?"
"Got you." Miranda stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. It lingered for a second or two longer than Jack would have liked. He cleared his throat and she stepped backward.
"Good." Jack fixed his gaze back on the rune. "Good. Time to have a chat with this Goddess."
Gloved fingers trembling, Jack reached forward for the rune. His hand clenched around it, and he felt himself slipping away, tendrils of viridian creeping into his vision. He gasped as his nostrils filled with the scent of rampant growth, his lungs filling with air brimming with life…
Jack came to on hands and knees in a plaza of stone blanketed by flowers. Looking up, the skyline featured the familiar vistas of broken streets and floating rocks. A howling wind echoed in the distance. But here, where he knelt, the air remained thick and close. He could hear bird song.
Jack brought his gaze a little lower. A woman – and it was a woman, not an asari – stared levelly at him from atop a throne. A shock of short dark hair adorned her head, and her angular features reminded Jack of some bird of prey. she wore dark robes head to foot – again, bark armor – covered in roses and vines. She regarded Jack with a look he liked not at all.
"Rise," she commanded, and Jack unsteadily rose to his feet, stomach roiling as if he were standing on a ship entering atmo. Her purple lip curled. "Kneel."
"Really." Jack folded his arms. "Really."
"Kneel," she uttered again, drawing out the word. Jack shrugged, and took a knee, making sure to maintain eye contact with the witch. His heart thudded hard in his chest. She regarded him narrowly. "Stand."
Jack stood, stomach still swimming. The Goddess gave him a thin smile.
"Jack Harper. This is your … third trip to Illium, is it?"
"You ask the question, but I can tell you already know the answer." Jack glowered at the creature before him. Looks human enough. Looks mortal enough. "Who are you?"
"I ask the questions. You answer them." The Goddess cocked her head. "Yes. Third trip. I remember. Many marked people pass through Illium at one time or another. Most of them are salarian. You are the only human we have ever hosted. Normally you are beneath the notice."
The way she said human made Jack think she didn't really consider herself as such. He adjusted his expectations accordingly. The Outsider has never changed shape, this is known. Who is this?
"Why am I suddenly-"
"No whys." Her voice cut like a saber's edge. Jack's voice died in his throat. "No whos. No wheres, no hows, no whats. I ask the questions. I am the Goddess. You are a flea, clinging to something whose vastness and complexity you could never appreciate." She stood, nostrils flaring. "And you. Are. Hunted."
She twisted her hand. The vines on Jack's right twisted and churned. Something garish, gold, and purple emerged from the morass of green – a canvas, depicting a figure. His hand dripped blue. His eyes blazed gold.
"Another man," said the Goddess with disgust. "It has been too long since he has bestowed his gift on to an asari. The last was Morinth, who remains outside my grasp. And the last human woman was…" The Goddess stopped, gathering herself. Jack's eyes flicked between the painting and the Goddess.
A turian. Familiar enough. He stood atop a pile of dead humans, some melted, others hacked apart. Coldridge. His left hand dripped with his own blood, the mark raked with thick fingers. His other hand clasped a golden blade.
"Still, I suppose a turian is novel enough. It has been quite some time, I am given to understand." Jack turned back to the Goddess. She clapped, and the vines on his left unearthed a new picture, this one featuring two figures. One, clad in red whaling leathers, an Overseer's saber held aloft, parrying a golden blade while his left hand glowed a dark purple. His side of the painting remained dark and indistinct.
Saren towered over this figure, his side of the painting blazing orange and gold. A streak of lightning could be seen over his shoulder, and Jack thought he could see steam rising from his armor. Is it raining? They stood upon cobblestones. The skyline looked familiar, somehow, although he could not place it.
"Just one possibility I have foreseen. It is the only one I anticipate, truth be told." The Goddess stepped forward, each step a small thunder clap. "But, first you come here. Hunted by something that has nothing to lose and everything to hate."
"He's a long way from here," said Jack, holding his ground. The Goddess smirked.
"Closer by the minute. The jaws of justice are closing around you, Jack. And now you come here, hunted, seeking Nassana Dantius." The Goddess stopped before him. She stood to his own height. "And you are not the only one. You alerted the Citadel to her activities."
"Wire charm trade cannot go unpunished." Jack stared straight ahead, his mind flashing back to Whitecliff. The Goddess tilted her head again. Jack could not help but notice that her chest remained perfectly still. She does not breathe.
"Oh, on that we agree. Ms. Dantius has been … very unwise. Very disappointing." The Goddess reached out, her fingernails long and green. Her fingers wrapped around Jack's jaw. Jack gasped. The sensation of ice cold lingered wherever she traced her nails. Yet he kept still. The Goddess tilted his head up, then side to side. Jack tried to keep his breathing steady. "The hanar have dispatched an assassin. He will attempt to kill her tonight."
"Not if I get to her first," said Jack through gritted teeth. The Goddess smiled, and Jack noted a point to her teeth.
"Interesting. We are of one mind. However, I suspect you had a different meaning." The Goddess released her grip. "Nassana Dantius must live. I still have use for her. And no foreign agents will claim the lives of my subjects."
Jack gaped up at her. "The woman dealt in-"
"Wire charms. Yes. And you will spare her." The Goddess exposed more teeth. "This is my decree. If she dies by your hand, or the drell's hand, I will summon the justicar Samara. You may be aware of her by reputation."
Jack shut his eyes, several old news headlines running through his head. Of course. One of the oldest. One of the strongest. One of the most unwavering. Jack let a whistle of air go through his teeth. Why?
Yet Jack resisted the urge to make so much as a sound. The Goddess gave a somewhat warmer smile this time.
"Good. In the interests of fairness, the drell will not be spared either, should Dantius be slain. You will save her, Jack. And then you will leave. Tomorrow. Whatever else you do on Illium is your business." The Goddess turned on her heel and strode up the steps. She sat back down on the throne, folding one leg over the other.
"Ma'am," said Jack, not sure how else to address this … creature, "I am doing this for the good of the galaxy. I am trying to stop a war."
"Not our war," replied the Goddess, eyes black. "Not my people. Not anymore. You will save Dantius and be gone from this place, Jack." Jack's vision began to fade, his breaths coming harder and harsher.
"As a gesture of good faith – and in the interests of you completing your mission – you may keep the rune. Now go."
Jack gasped. The temple returned to him. He looked to the rune in his hand. It glowed brightly once, and then went dead. Wind rustled through the leaves. Jack stared up at the statue looming above them.
"Jack? Are you all right?"
"Yeah," replied Jack, not taking his eyes off the worn but somehow twisted features of the figure's face. "There's been a slight change of plans."
After reaching the hotel room, Jack's two compatriots maintained neutral expressions as he elaborated on what the woman had told him. Banes's lips twitched in what might have been a neutral smile at first, but it did not last. When Jack finished, he glanced at Miranda meaningfully.
"I think that might have been the false empress."
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose. "The gardens, the megalomania, what you said she looked like – it bears out."
"Raises some questions. About the asari. About the Outsider. About a lot of things." Jack glanced out the window to the towering spires of Illium. "Not that we have a lot of time to question, let alone seek answers. I don't fancy having a justicar on our ass. We need to do this, fast."
"Hope you weren't thinking of letting that bitch go free, boss," said Banes mildly, stretching out languidly against the bed he leaned on. "I uh, I got a special hate for people who deal in wire charms."
"Yeah," replied Jack, remembering. "Yeah, I know it. There are other ways to punish the guilty, Banes."
"You've got a plan, Jack?" asked Miranda, cocking a single well groomed eyebrow.
Jack shrugged. "I had a plan. Our little "goddess" scuppered it. Now I just got a hunch." He wiped his mouth, thinking. "Take a shower and saddle up. We're going to pay the Dantius Towers a visit."
The bright green of Illium began to give way to a deep orange as bright day gave to soft night. The Dantius Towers broke up the lush horizon like two teeth from the earth's gums, sprouting up at the same height to even give the impression of incisors. The structures possessed a considerable berth from the other buildings around them, and Jack wondered if the space came about before or after their erection. Back in the day, Nassana Dantius quickly became infamous in certain circles for her mixture of paranoia, ruthlessness, and temper. From up high, looks like the rest of the city is slowly edging away from her. Out of fear? Or to escape her fate?
Drell assassins … Jack could not say he had dealt with them before. He knew them by reputation, sure. They supposedly could give Inquisitors and justicars a run for their money in the sheer trouser-shitting fear they could inflict on their targets, but Jack knew no specifics. It seemed unlikely that most people who ran afoul of drell had little opportunity to report their experiences to the galaxy at large.
"Going to give the airspace a bit of room here, boss," said Banes, turning the steering wheel right and angling the carriage downward. "Dantius don't seem the type to give us warning before nailing us with a harpoon or missile."
"Good call." Jack flexed his left hand. It felt stiff, and the mark burned as if exposed to the sun for too long. He adjusted his sunglasses further up his nose and checked himself in the mirror. Looks fine. "Remember, if things go south in her office, don't put yourself at risk. Her crew is expendable. Dantius is not. And take out the asari first, if things do go that way."
"Reckon she's got any krogan on her crew?" asked Miranda. Jack shook his head, but it was little more than an educated guess tinged with desperate hope. Eclipse doesn't usually field krogan … but there's always the odd exception. The odd, bloodthirsty exception.
Banes took the air carriage down easy in an empty lot just across from the towers' entrance. As they emerged from the carriage, the cloying smell of Illium's native flowers greeted their nostrils; rows of baskets filled with plant life rimmed the walls around the lot. Miranda and Banes exchanged glances.
"My life for my mask," complained Banes, grimacing at Jack. "Figures, the one mission you tell us to go without, and it smells like rotten Gristol apples."
Jack glanced at the space around the walls. Conspicuously smooth dirt lined the floor around them. A single heavy bootprint had been haphazardly scuffed out at one of the corners. Jack could not help but note the lack of graffiti, other carriages, or indeed any signs of life at all.
"Let's get out of this lot." Jack jerked his head towards the towers, suddenly feeling uneasy. How many secrets and "accidents" has she buried here? He glanced back at his crew behind him, a deep knot of anxiety twisting up in his stomach. Touch them, Nassana, and I don't care what your pathetic goddess says; your head will roll, and I'll fling it to the drell with a smile on my face.
As the three of them strolled up to the walls ringing the towers' perimeter, a shrill whistle went up. Two mercenaries in yellow plate armor- asari judging by the gaudiness of the uniforms – peeked out from over the edge of the wall, rifles clutched in their arms.
"This is private property, and the owner is not expecting any visitors!" called out one of the mercenaries, her voice modulated but clearly female. Great. Things go wrong, and we'll be going toe to toe with asari. It had been silly to hope otherwise, on Illium. Better than krogan, at least.
Miranda stepped forward, as planned.
"We're with the Hounds! Nassana is not expecting us, but she may not be expecting the drell assassin either. We're here to provide … outside support." Jack nodded to himself, hoping the asari would pick up on what Miranda was getting at. Unfortunately, Jack had no way to tell through the glowing eyes of the asari's helmets. The speaker did pause to look at her sister. Then, she lifted her hand to the side of her helmet and began muttering into some unseen headset.
"Yeah, yeah. Said they were Hounds … they said something about a drell assassin?" The guard glanced down at the three of them again. "Outside support, they said. I think it was code for … right. Okay. Okay. Okay!" The merc lowered her hand and waved the three of them over to a gate.
"Keep an eye on what they do," whispered Jack. "Nassana's not exactly predictable. Odds are good she thinks we're the assassins." Which, but for the literal grace of god, we would be.
The gate opened with a snap. Six individuals – two of them salarians, the rest either humans or asari – stormed out, blades and guns at the ready. Jack warily raised his hands while his fellows followed suit. Three mercs, one for each of them, stepped forward, hands prying their swordbelts free from their whaling outfits. One found the holster of his pistol and pulled it free. Then strong hands began patting at the rest of him.
"No other weapons!" reported the asari as she pulled away from him. Similar calls came from the others. Someone from a tower window gave a shrill whistle and they were all shoved forward.
"Come on. Viewscreen up ahead. Let her get a look at all of you."
This wasn't going quite according to plan, although it made sense it retrospect. She shouldn't want to just invite us up to her office. Still, it made Jack's heart pound a little. Their boots crunched against well-worn gravel as the guards shoved them towards a small guardhouse. Jack cast back one lingering glance at the human male who hoisted their equipment over his shoulder and carried it elsewhere. Well. Up to the Void and Omnitool now. As well as my bare hands.
Racks of weapons lined one side of the guardhouse. A large series of screen lined the other, each reflecting the viewpoint of cameras scattered throughout the grounds. One screen in the center, however, instead featured the scrunched-up face of a certain asari, who leered at them as they stepped inside the hot insides of the building.
"Is this them?" she asked somewhat shrilly, to which the lead asari replied in the affirmative. Dantius licked her lips and looked from one Hound to the other, fixing on Jack momentarily. He felt a chill settle somewhere inside. There's no reason she should know my face. No reason at all.
"Which one of you is the leader?" asked Nassana suddenly, blue eyes flicking from one of them to the other. Miranda stepped forward.
"I am, Nassana. My name is Miranda Lawson. I think you've heard of me." Miranda gestured with a gloved hand to Banes. "This is Armistan Banes, whose reputation as a swordsman may also precede him. And this is Adahn." Jack inclined his head. "He is a more recent addition – blooded but not otherwise noteworthy. We have been recruited by an interested outside party to keep you safe."
"An outside party." Nassana gave Miranda a look that frankly asked whether she was being serious. "The only outside parties I can think of would want me dead. Who sent you?"
"I don't think you would believe us if we told you, Ms. Dantius." Miranda folded her arms. Behind them, the guards tensed. Jack clenched his left hand. Don't let it come to this. Don't make this difficult.
"Try me."
Miranda bit her lip. I can tell she's waiting for some kind of signal from me. But I cannot give it. You're in charge, Miranda. Make the call. Jack tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. But the sweat ran down it regardless, beading on his forehead.
"It was the Goddess at your Temple of Athame, Miranda," replied Miranda, and Jack resisted the urge to smile. That would have been my call as well. "We have been instructed to save you, on pain of the justicar Samara being set on us."
Dantius's left eye twitched twice. A guard coughed behind them. Jack kept his left hand clenched hard, ready to call on the Void. For a long moment, no one spoke. And still, no one spoke.
"That is such a spectacular lie that I cannot help but think it's true," said Nassana finally, albeit through gritted teeth.
"Ma'am," called out a guard from behind them, "if I might make a suggestion-"
"Would one of you kindly prove your powers so these idiots will shut up?" asked Nassana, not even glancing over to the guard. Miranda shrugged, and promptly vanished, reappearing atop a small crate in the corner. The mercs shouted and twisted while Nassana only chuckled. Miranda lightly jumped off the crate and returned to where she had just stood. One of the guards drew a pistol and pointed it square at her neck. Jack gave her a look.
"Drop it."
"Yes, peon, drop it!" called out Nassana, chuckling. The guard lowered her weapon. "These are bona fide Hounds." She narrowed her eyes. "And you're not here to kill me?"
"We are not here to kill you, Nassana," replied Miranda. "If we were, you would not have seen us coming."
Nassana nodded, now stroking her chin with a lengthy purple fingernail. "That … that is fair. The Goddess told you to come here?"
"On pain of having a justicar set on us, yes." Miranda's voice grew impatient. "Ms. Dantius, the longer we spend in here, the more time the drell will have to get the drop on us. Maybe we should continue this in your office?"
"Why would the drell want to kill me?" asked Nassana, voice becoming sweet and innocent. Banes snorted, and Miranda gave him a warning look.
"Perhaps that is a conversation better suited to your office, Ms. Dantius," replied Miranda, glancing at the mercs. "It's … rather sensitive."
Jack could tell from the sudden drop of Dantius's face that she knew exactly why the drell would come. Her perfect fingernails tapped against an unseen desk. I think she's deliberating whether to kill us or not. Honey, it will not go well for you.
"Very well," snapped Nassana. "Captain, get them up here-"
"I would leave one man outside," cut in Miranda. "To keep an eye on the rooftops and the other tower. These are the most likely avenues of attack." She paused, pretending to think. Then she lifted a hand towards Jack. "Adahn. He will warn us of imminent attack."
"If Ms. Dantius allows it," replied Jack stiffly, glancing back to the asari. She scowled.
"Fine. Fine! It's you I want anyway, Miranda. Get them up here."
Miranda coughed. "Our weapons…?"
"No, I don't think so," replied Nassana shortly. "If what I have heard about you is true, you shouldn't need them for this anyway. They'll be returned to you when you leave."
If we leave. Jack kept his face still as they were led out. All but one salarian left with Banes and Miranda to the main tower entrance, Miranda casting one glance back as she did so. You'll be fine. The salarian drew up to Jack, who took a step backward. They're quick. Keep a distance.
"Stay out of restricted areas," said the salarian shortly. "Your omnitool will ping red. We catch you there – it's going to be bad."
"And what if the assassin cunningly dives in there?" asked Jack, making the sarcasm plain. The salarian cocked his head.
"Then call security. We find you dueling the assassin in the boss's private conference room or some such, we'll just kill you both."
Real crack security team they've got here. Jack gave the salarian a small bow.
"Understood. Keep your eyes peeled."
"For you and the drell both." The salarian turned on his heel. Jack turned to the second tower, whose shadow he currently stood draped in. The first level beckoned. He clenched his left hand into a fist. Let's go.
It almost felt a shame that the goddess had demanded Nassana's survival. The two towers, the cranky Eclipse guards, and the utterly unsympathetic target would have made for an engaging mission. Instead, the drell gets all the fun. Jack unclenched his fist and felt his feet wobble. He stood on the outside of the tower, on a ledge before one of the windows. He took one look at the buildings around. No sign of movement. He would have to go higher.
The drell was the secondary priority. Nassana had to live, after all. But the primary goal was to neutralize her; the galaxy was unstable enough thanks to … recent events … without a wealthy asari funneling wire charms through Citadel space. If that meant killing her, so be it, although between Saren and Samara, Jack's only means of survival might have been to somehow pit the two of them against each other. And my people would get hurt. That was not the best outcome. But … if what I hear about this woman was true.
The bodies buried under their parking lot? They were far from the only people Nassana had put beneath the ground. Jack would not have been surprised to learn the entire building's foundation rested on the bones of people unfortunate enough to get in her way. It says something about an asari when she starts with six sisters … and now she's the only one left. Jack released his grip and immediately fell back against the wall of the second story, breathing heavily. The wind already felt a little stronger and a little cooler than it had seconds ago. All across Nos Astra, the lights began to dim.
On the fifth of the eighteen stories, Jack began to realize he would not be able to make his whole trip on the outside of the building. The wind buffeted at his face and made his eyes water, his lips felt frozen, and the ledges grew ever more precipitous. To his right, a window lay partially open. He kicked it open the rest of the way and bent down, slipping inside with a twinge in his back. The shock of warmth that went through him took his breath away.
The interior of the building met Jack's expectation immediately. Glass cases containing prothean figurines stood to either side of the wall, each with a small placard detailing where they were found and their probable purpose. The hallway Jack stood on wound forward to the main staircase, whose center featured an illuminated glass pane. That's the main way up. Jack clapped his hands together and proceeded forward. Hopefully security knows I'm up here. Probably best to avoid them anyway.
Jack whistled a certain tune about a drunken whaler as he approached the staircase, quickly passing his hand in front of his face to get a better idea of where everyone was. Sure enough, the building came alive with the sensation of nearby bone charms and runes, but he did not have time for them. Teams of two guards patrolled both above and below, and the higher he looked, the more there were. However, he saw no sign of any lean and furtive assassin … just bored men and women with helmets cradled under one arm, a cigarette in the other hand.
"You the auxiliary?" Two humans came from further down the stairs, hands resting on the hilts of their sabers. "One of the Hounds? HQ radioed in and said the boss gave the okay."
"Yeah." Jack jerked his head back to where he came from. "Came in through the window." He coughed and then leaned in. "I was told some areas are off limits and that my omnitool would ping red. Can you give me a better idea…?"
"If it's locked, back off. Higher you go, worse it gets. They don't even let us in on the top floor." The guard pointed up. "Think that's where the boss likes to bury stuff. Only the Cap'n and the people he personally clears get to go up there."
"The Cap'n?"
The guard laughed. "Yeah. He's been on Nassana's payroll for a while. 'Til death do 'em part, he says, but I think he assumed that would have been sooner than it was. You'll know him when you see him. Big old hat. Prone to grumbling." The guard paused. "Still, uh, don't get on his bad side."
"Right."
The guard gestured further down the stairs. "Gotta get going. Scream if you see him."
"Yeah," replied Jack, feeling for where his sword should have been. Might have to get inventive if it comes to that.
Jack proceeded further up the steps, trying to ignore the sensation that he was trespassing. On one floor, water tinkled gently into a small stone fountain, around which guards smoked cigarettes and cast furtive looks his way. On another, from behind a closed door two argued loudly about…
"Where the hell's the Cap'n? He should have checked in by now."
"Lavvy. He's old, he says, what do you expect?"
"Still? He buggered off half an hour ago. Seems more like he wants to collect more pay for doing nothing. There's an assassin on the loose, for Void's sake!"
"You have a problem with it, take it up with him."
The dissenting voice quickly shut up. Right. Jack continued upward, occasionally letting his eyes glaze over and look through the wall and floor. The second-to-last was the greatest convergence of wires and people. Jack's omnitool pinged red as he reached the penultimate stairwell, but he only sighed and then smiled. Okay. Still have the omnibow. It'll be fine.
Jack stopped before the sealed bulkhead that would take him inside the restricted offices. He promptly doubled back to the floor below and passed down a short wooden hallway to a closed window. Sucking in a deep breath, he wrenched it open and winced at the cold. He then slid through, his boots questing at the short ledge for purchase. There was far, far less space than he would have liked. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up, keeping one hand on the frozen pane of the glass.
It's fucking freezing! Each breath felt like an icicle down his windpipe. Jack looked up, eyes watering, at the next level. Sucking in a frigid breath, he clenched his left hand. The howl of the Illium wind quieted in the face of the Void's own cacophony. Then he released his grasp, and immediately pressed himself forward against the glass, grunting at how it burned against his nose.
Gonna lose a little skin. He pulled himself off the glass with a twinge of pain, and then blinked. No one occupied the space beyond the glass. He kicked, twice, at the window, and then pulled himself inside as it swung open just a hair. Thank the Void. Thought I might have to break it. He closed it behind him and then turned around.
A small lobby greeted him. An unoccupied desk sat in the center of the room, a small book laying on top of it. A fountain slightly mitigated the sound of howling wind from the window by supplying the sounds of moving water. A spiral staircase went upwards … and as Jack looked, two asari began descending the steps, their boots making nary a noise. Jack let his mark burn.
Time stopped. He looked around for anything to hide behind. The options were the desk or … one of the lights above, hanging from the ceiling. If it can support my weight. If it couldn't, things became interesting. Miranda and Banes would hopefully get the idea if he suddenly stopped time. Get the hell out of that office if it comes to that. He released his grip. The light swung slightly as materialized atop it, making his heart stutter. Don't notice don't notice don't notice…
"Hold up." At the bottom of the staircase, one of the asari lifted a hand. Jack's heart stopped, but the asari just held a hand to her helmet and listened to her earpiece. "Yes, Cap'n. No sign of intrusion. I'll keep my eyes peeled."
"Goddess, my legs are cramping." The other guard leaned against the desk. Jack kept very, very still. "How long do we have to keep this up?"
"Until the situation is normal. Hopefully the board will excuse her lateness, seeing as she's due there in an hour." The guard did not sound very concerned. "Or not. Fuck this posting. This isn't what I had in mind for the Sisterhood."
"And what did you have in mind?" asked the other, giggling. "Sword clashing on sword in dark alleys? Punting vorcha into the sun with your biotics?"
"I dunno. It didn't include standing around doing nothing at the behest of a paranoiac psychopath." The asari coughed and then motioned onward. "C'mon. Other teams won't like it if they don't see us."
The two asari sidled off, yawning. Jack breathed a little easier. The board. She's due for a meeting. Didn't seem too useful, but everything helped. Jack blinked and headed up the stairs. Rows of offices greeted him. Another pair of guards, two salarians, smoked in the corner office. But we want the big office in the corner.
Jack's Void Gaze also spied a camera pointed just over the lip of the entrance. He stood directly under it, out of sight, and waited for it to turn just a little bit to the left. Go.
He reappeared in front of the right door, and opened and shut it without a sound. He kept his ear pressed to the wood, intermittently glancing at the camera and the two salarians. They put out their cigarettes and stepped down the hallway and down the stairs. Neither bothered to check behind the doors.
The camera turned. Jack blinked to the front of the office rows and ducked behind the closest cubicle. A large, oak door now stood between him and what looked like Dantius's office for the building. Electronic lock. Outie can get me in. Of course, no way in Void Outie could get him inside without the camera showing him the extent of his failings … and time stop would affect the VI as well.
This called for a crude and improbable solution. Jack directed his energies behind him, just under the camera. His brow knitted with effort and sweat ran down his face as the shadows congealed into something shaped like a man beneath the camera, a blade in its hands. It stared (impressive, given it lack of face) at Jack expectantly.
The camera. The shadow nodded. It reached up, extremities stretching unnaturally long. It covered the lens with a single dark hand. It's really going to hurt it this takes more than thirty seconds. And someone is going to notice the camera going black, I can feel it…
Jack rushed forward to the lock, omnitool blaring.
"Outie, crack this."
"Running auto hack program. Stand by."
Jack waited, teeth gritting. His shadow stood at the other end of the hallway. As Jack started to shake with effort, its silhouette began to blur.
The omnitool cracked and blared.
"Estimated time: ten seconds."
Fuck, it felt like holding a plank back at the Abbey. Jack heaved in as much air as he could as his chest tightened. The figure still faded slightly, going from midnight black to a very dark gray. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip.
With a click, the door came loose. He pushed it aside and slammed it shut, cursing at the sudden noise. Idiot, idiot, idiot! He released his double, and felt the weight fade from his chest and stomach. He stood there for a moment, panting. I doubt I have very long.
Nassana's office possessed a commendable number of books. Books lined the shelves and several sat atop her desk. A golden globe of Illium (centered on Nos Astra, naturally) even had an open book atop it. More prothean figures in glass cases lined one side of the room, and the large windows pointedly had the curtains drawn, letting in the quickly fading light of Illium's sunset.
A computer occupied Dantius's desk. But what really interested Jack lay under it. He swept his fingers in front of his eyes. A hatch and a small set of stairs lay hidden just under the desk and shag rug. Under that? The hum of a rune. His eyes watered at the scent of Void magic. A classic. Jack pushed the desk aside, wincing as it squeaked against the wood of the floor once it left the rug. Then he pulled the rug away, revealing the brass of a heavy knocker. He hoisted it up and descended, his enhanced vision substituting for the lack of light.
The Outsider Shrine burned bright yellow in his gaze. But … wires led up to it, criss-crossed through it, even sunk into the rune on its surface. A vid screen sat propped up by the mess of spikes and metal, its surface inactive. I haven't seen tech like this since … batarian space.
Jack bit his lip and stepped forward. The air hummed with magic and electricity. He suddenly felt, with utmost certainty and no proof, like something watched him. But it changes nothing. I have a job to do. Jack lightly pressed his fingers against the Outsider Shrine. It lit up immediately. A Void wind howled through Jack's ears. The screen shone through his eyes and directly to his spirit, recognizing his authority. His mark burned.
"Wire charms." Jack wiped his mouth. His mind shot forward like an arrow, questing through fragments of Void. He could sense … approval. It takes the asari bitch just thirty minutes just to-
A memory. A fresh one. Speaking with … a human. White attire. Commanding in authority.
"I well remember when my colony burned at the behest of those zealots, woman, so don't go trying to sweet talk me." Familiar. So familiar. "I need no persuasion. Send word to your people. I'll have the schedules in under a week. You're sure he can get the job done?"
"Yes, Mr. Lawson. He has quite the record."
The memory faded away. Jack's fingers pressed hard against the metal. You … you…
Jack looked onward, searching. Wire charms. Why is she dealing in wire charms?
Another memory, even newer. It felt cold.
"Why must I deal in wire charms?" she asked, arms folded. The alien before her on the other side of the screen, shrouded, cocked his head at the query.
"Destabilize. Undermine. Get people angry." His accent was heavy, cloaked in the heavy intonations of one born in the Kite's Nest. Batarian … only something was not right. The width of the shoulders. The posture. "The Hegemony seeks closer relations with the Empire. The Terminus seeks a free market for certain goods. Can you not see the profit in a conflict breaking out between Council and humanity?"
"I see a lot of risk and not a lot of reward. Just transporting those things … you lose people." Nassana frowned, and Jack frowned with her. "With what's planned tomorrow … we could tip things too far. If the Ecclesiarchy will not stand for it-"
"The Ecclesiarchy will be reigned in by more secular elements, I assure you." The figure chuckled. "And you will be well-compensated for every shipment you make. I guarantee C-Sec will not be looking too hard."
Dantius shrugged. "Void take me, I'll do it."
The vision faded. Questions. More questions. The screen fizzled. There was one more. A conversation on the edge of hearing.
"Is she dead?" The response was inaudible. Nassana smiled and paced before the screen. "Good. She should have known is forthcoming. Thank you." Nassana tapped the screen, but the screen and rune still listened. "Oh, Lydia. My dear, sweet sister. I did say I would kill you last." Nassana's finger traced the rune's edges. Jack felt a flare of hate. Pretenders, all. Try to be more interesting. Fools, all. Dabbling in magics will bring them…
The vision faded. Jack could find nothing else relating to wire charms. But something lurked at the edge of the screen's place in the Void. A cold, dark place.
I have to. He didn't know why, but he felt drawn. His finger tapped against the edge of the screen. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. And – stop!
Something glowed red but not hot. Something touched the Void but lived it not. Something watched with no eyes and waited for a clock to strike…
Batarians strode by a window overlooking some desolate and empty portion of space. A vast shipyard lay below, construction rigging set up around something vast and quietly angry. A batarian turned around and stared, but the four eyes were not his.
"You do not belong here."
A blast of icy cold shook Jack's entire frame. He took a step backward, gasping. The screen went dead. What the hell was that? It felt like the Citadel, only worse. The shrine's room suddenly felt stifling, oppressive. Jack tried to activate his void gaze again, only for it to fail. What? His mark flared and sputtered. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.
He stared down at the horrible mishmash of magic and technology. I have a murder confession. I need to use it. He reached out one last time, and it felt like something pushed him back. Jack fell forward against the shrine-computer, and felt for the penultimate memory.
"Outie – record!"
The screen came back to life. Jack's omnitool blared and scanned the screen, taking in every last second. At the word "last" the screen died again. Jack fell backward, head pounding.
This is a bad place. I need to leave.
Jack hurried back up the stairs, almost tripping, and emerged panting back to the office. He swept fingers in front of his eyes. Still doesn't work. He twitched a finger and felt a twinge as the auto-injector sent Piero's Remedy flooding his veins. A hint of warmth, rising by the second. Okay, good. Good.
With a fresh wave of heat flooding through his being, Jack hurriedly dragged the rug back in place, and then the carpet on top of it. The computer shifted as he shoved the squeaking desk back in place. He stood up and straightened it, only to see the door open. Jack saw the tricorn hat before he saw what was under it. What was under it did not look pretty.
The krogan snorted as he saw Jack, his red eyes narrowing. The krogan's bare arms pulsed with the snaking black lines of the Mark of the Eaten, and mail armor over a leather jerkin adorned his thick chest. A massive battleaxe hung loosely from his belt, its edge gleaming. Old scars crisscrossed the krogan's arms and face but did nothing to instill a sense of fragility or vulnerability.
Jack raised his arms defensively. The Cap'n shoved the door behind him with a snap. Then he cast his eyes on either side of the room, searching for anyone else.
"Cap'n?" A voice, faint, but coming from his headset. The krogan shook his head, leaving the headset loose. "Cap'n, what is-" He flung the headset aside. Then, very carefully, he removed his hat and left it on the rack beside the door. Then he cracked his knuckles and smiled.
"I warn you," said Jack, voice cracking and warmth finally, finally, flooding back into his arms, "I have powers." His mark flared. The krogan only smiled more widely.
"So do I." The krogan's arms pulsed blue. He growled and beckoned. Jack screamed as the pull yanked him forward toward the krogan. He blinked and let the energies carry him backward, but the Void did nothing to still momentum. He careened into the desk with the same amount of force he would have the krogan, and the wind flew from his lungs.
The krogan roared and brandished an axe. Jack felt for his sword on instinct, realized it was not there, and immediately rolled out of the way. A heavy crash behind him announced the desk's new existence as a pile of splinters.
"Come on, boy!" The krogan laughed as Jack rolled, windpipe still shut, and stood. "Stop time! Summon vines! Do something." The krogan brought his glowing left arm back, and Jack could not help but comply. Time stood still at his command – but it wasn't happy about it. He doubled over, chest tightening, but still staggered out of the room, his breath finally coming back in one ragged gasp.
Not long, not long at all! The offices – none of them would do, he'd be found. He sprinted for the staircase. The world resumed as he cleared the last step.
"You stopped time itself to hide from me?!" bellowed a distant, but rapidly closing voice. "Is this the kind of filth he chooses for his mark?!"
Jack ran for the window, kicking it open once again. This time he would have neither the time nor the angle to shut it again. He pushed himself through, bottom scraping against the edge as he went, and immediately transversed to the next floor down, where the window was still open. He reentered the warm gratefully, heart pounding. Jack looked left and then right. Closet. Closet! He turned his void gaze on, checking for life. None. He shoved himself inside. On the staircase, guards rushed to and fro, and some on the ground floor … some lay still?
"Where?" The krogan's voice boomed from outside the door, disconcertingly loud. "Shove it! You take the assassin, I've got a bigger problem. Go! Head him off!"
Jack followed the krogan's glowing form through the walls. The krogan grunted as it entered the main room. His head turned this way and that, huffing impatiently.
"Little rat, I can hear your heartbeat race." The krogan looked to the room next to the closet and strode with purpose inside. Jack wasn't sure whether to giggle at the krogan's false surety or breath a sigh of relief. He did neither, because he wanted to live. Do I wait? Dash out? Time stop and dash out?
The krogan's glowing form came disconcertingly close to Jack. He's standing just on the other side of the wall. Was he lying? Jack's breathing became sharper, more intense. The sweat beaded on his brow.
The krogan reared back, and Jack ducked just in time. A glowing meaty fist punched through the wall and where his head had been, reaching and grasping for a neck. The hand retreated, and a red eye replaced it in the wall. The krogan snarled as Jack shoved open the door and stumbled out, making for the staircase.
"Stop running!"
Pounding footsteps erupted behind Jack. Jack cast his left hand back and sent up a shadow, its blade black and sharp. He heard the krogan laugh briefly, followed by the clash of steel on steel. Seconds. I have seconds! He felt the shadow wrenched apart by an axe blow, its death both a relief and a condemnation. He descended the stairs in a hurry.
"What the-"
Two guards, asari. They had weapons. One lifted an arm to prepare some biotics. Jack lifted his to stop time.
Jack's vision blurred. His heart hammered in his chest. Can't … keep this up. With a twinge of guilt, he ripped a blade free from the scabbard of one asari. Then, with a grunt, he smashed open the glass in the staircase with the hilt, sending a thousand razor sharp shards spraying into the air and freezing in place, glittering like deadly raindrops. Then, he stood behind the asari, a hand on each. Sorry. Void take us all.
Jack grunted and pushed forward. Both asari, light even with their combat armor on, fell forward before freezing again. When time took hold, the momentum would send them over the edge. They signed up for the risk. Jack continued down the stairs as fast as he was able, knees starting to wobble. One more shot of Piero's. Then I'm up the creek.
Time snapped back to place. Two high voices screamed as two blue bodies fell past Jack down the stairwell. A crunch echoed up from below.
"Assassin! Help!" Eclipse soldiers surged up the stairwell. Jack, blade in hand, cursed and headed right, through a door and a set of offices. A gunshot rang out from behind, but went wide, puncturing a window. The cracks immediately began to spread. Someone familiar bellowed from behind.
Jack, out of ideas, ran to the rapidly diminishing window and leapt. It broke, and Jack fell through to open air. He clenched his left fist. Time stopped. Destination. Destination.
He had a fair amount of momentum. He craned his neck behind him. The krogan's livid gaze seemed to pierce even the Void's wind. But straight ahead on the other tower … a balcony. A landing. Close enough.
Jack released his grip and rolled as he landed, back and neck aching. He stood up and shivered in the cold. On the other side, a small crowd of Eclipse, helmed by the Cap'n himself, looked back.
The krogan held out an arm to his side. The mercs backed up. Then the krogan shouted something, and blurred blue.
"Oh, fuck me-"
Jack dove through the shut doors as the krogan erupted on to the balcony, propelled by his biotics. Concrete and glass shattered at his arrival, and the doors Jack had just jumped through burst apart. The krogan shouldered his way through the wreckage, axe raised. Running is not an option. Jack readied his stolen blade. Time to make a fight of it.
"About time!" snarled the krogan, axe gleaming. He leapt forward, a blur of angry red. Jack danced aside, his own blade flicking out. It nicked the twisting black shapes on the krogan's arm, drawing blood the shade of midnight. The krogan laughed, but Jack could hear an edge of pain to it.
Jack kept his back foot planted and blade straight ahead. The krogan eyed Jack with renewed respect, even as the sweat and blood ran down Jack's eyes head and into his eyes. He used his free hand to wipe it clean, smearing the liquids over his gloves.
Another syrette. The last one. Jack's wrist twinged again as the needle went in, but it was nothing compared to the relief and the way his vision sharpened back to normal. Have to finish this … Miranda and Banes, I hope you're okay…
The krogan shook his head and chuckled to himself. He made a gesture with an azure hand, trying to pull Jack in. This time, Jack clenched his fist and let the momentum take him.
With a howl of eldritch air, he rematerialized behind the krogan, who grunted in confusion. Jack leapt forward atop the alien's back and drove his blade in as deep as it would go between hump and neck. The krogan's shields flared blue, and Jack recoiled as the tech repulsed him. Too hard! Hit him too hard!
"Heh. Nice." The krogan's free arm jerked backward, his elbow coming within an inch of Jack's face. Then the krogan spun, axe wheeling about in a deadly arc. Jack ducked low, feeling a rush of air as the blade went over where his neck had just been. Odds are my shields would stop one of these blows. He really, really didn't feel like testing out that theory, though. Odds were good it would still send him reeling, same as getting shot.
Jack rolled to the side, pain creeping in through the adrenaline. The Cap'n's arms ran black with contaminated blood now, but the krogan paid it no mind. He shook his head once, glowering at Jack, who began taking careful step backwards, his rear foot scraping against glass and rubble as he backed away. The krogan paused, snickered, and reached for his belt.
The Cap'n drew a pistol with the longest barrel Jack had ever seen and aimed it square. Jack let the Void take him upwards, atop one of the swinging lights. The pistol reported once, making Jack's ears ring, and sending up the kind of smoke Jack would have associated with a cannon shot. The krogan laughed and pulled the hammer back on his pistol, red eyes swinging this way and that for his prey.
Come on … Jack readied his blade with one hand and let the shadows coalesce with the other. His phantom emerged from behind the krogan, blade ready. Jack leapt from the lights without any warcry, just a muffled grunt of exertion.
The krogan looked up just in time to get a face full of Jack. He bellowed in surprise and anger as Jack landed partway on his back, temporarily driving him to a knee. Jack reared back and laid the point of his blade again between point and neck. This time he drove it forward, paused, and then pushed it in slowly.
The Cap'n cried out in genuine pain before shaking, throwing Jack to the side. Jack landed nimbly, knees protesting only weakly through the adrenaline. The krogan looked up at him, red blood running down his own scarred face now, Jack's borrowed blade sticking straight up from his neck like a toothpick through cheese. He opened his mouth, probably to offer some taunt, only to stagger. His mouth opened, only for a trickle of red to spill out. A tip of midnight black protruded through his chest, its edges shimmering. From behind, Jack's shadow twisted the blade, making the krogan issue a strangled gasp.
The krogan stepped forward, pulling himself free, and then sent his elbow flying back again. The shadow ducking nimbly, only for the side of the massive alien's axe to catch him. The shadow faded back to whence it came, indescribable oblivion.
Jack kept his arms at the ready, keeping his eyes fixed on his blade, still affixed to the krogan. The Cap'n, eyes crazed, covered in his own blood and spit, aimed the gun square at Jack, one last time. Okay. Okay. Jack had one shot at this. His mark glowed in anticipation. He cocked his head at the krogan, in a way he knew invited challenge. Come on!
The krogan squeezed the trigger, and Jack pulled his own. With a shrill cry, he pulled on time, turning all to gray stillness. The bullet, bigger than any Jack had ever seen, had just emerged from the Cap'n's hand cannon. It stood just barely an inch away from the krogan. Jack staggered forward, Void pulsing through his arms. An inch. I barely have to move him an inch!
Jack, muscles straining with a strength beyond someone not touched by the Outsider, pushed the krogan. The krogan tilted, unbalancing. He'll at least fall over, even if I fail. Still, Jack shifted him, pushing with hip and arms, slowly circling the Cap'n around his own bullet as if he were a piece of heavy furniture. The Void's whistling grew louder. Come on…
The krogan now stood diagonal to the bullet. Jack, out of energy and time. Simply planted a foot on the creature's back and pushed. The krogan's head went forward, directly into the path of the bullet. Jack staggered backwards, waiting. Okay … okay.
Time snapped back. The pistol report boomed loud in Jack's ears, but it still did not deafen him to the sound of a shield shattering like glass, nor that of something hard and heavy smacking flesh and then bone.
The Cap'n spun and fell to the floor with a wet crash, half of his face landing next to him in a stew of steaming flesh. The sound of burned … well, Jack assumed it was brains, assaulted his nostrils. The krogan groaned and turned, one bloody arm pushing himself away from the floor, Jack's blade still wobbling from its perch in his neck. His single remaining eye fixed on the gore before looking up at Jack, the hate and anger replaced by … fear.
"Uh-"
The krogan collapsed face first into the remnants of half his skull, the exposed muscle and remaining tissue twitching. Jack stood there, panting, not sure whether to cry and walk away, or…
"I'm sorry." Jack stepped forward and plucked the blade from the krogan's flesh. Then he knelt down and dragged the blade over the marked flesh of the Cap'n's arms, which parted as easily as necrotic tissue. The blood boiled out, noxious and blacker than soot. "I can't let you get back up."
Redundant nervous systems were a hell of a thing, and Jack didn't want to test whether the krogan's own bullet had perforated both brains. Jack stood, the old sense of unreality bearing down on him. Shock. Battle fatigue. A hard day still ahead of me. It was normal. It was also still profoundly discomforting.
Jack staggered out of the ruined office space and into the main lobby. A quick sweep with his fingers revealed the guards had abandoned their posts for the … top floor. Multiple prone figures lay still in Dantius's office, but a small crowd of armed figures gathered outside it. Jack staggered through the granite lobby and up the stairs, his legs burning and his knees creaking. When he arrived at the seven guards gathered before the heavy oak door, bloody blade in hand, they did not notice him at first. That was unfortunate.
Jack lifted his left hand and let the omnibow fold out. They were all asari and humans, which meant this would be nice and quick. He fired twice, pegging one in the shoulder and another in the throat, making them grunt and reach up to find the quivering darts in them. The others turned as Jack took the third and forth, the omnibow issuing an electronic twang with each pull. They staggered back, movements instantly becoming sluggish. The remaining three rushed forward with a cry.
Jack fired twice more, and then lifted his blade. The sole remaining guard's blade met his in an ugly clang of steel, sending her backwards with a grunt. Jack pulled back a fist and hit her square in the jaw, sending her reeling. Then he drew her close, arms around her neck, his own enhanced strength just barely countering the flood of exhaustion that threatened to drown him.
The woman went limp. Jack let her down slowly. All around him her companions called out in slurred voices, some of them still gamely clasping on to their blades. Jack kicked one aside as his owner let go of it, asking him where he was going. Jack put a hand against the smoothed door of the wood and leaned against it for a moment, breathing heavily. How long can you keep this up? You're not twenty four anymore. Jack shut his eyes for a moment and felt every creak of pain and twinge in the chest. Desolas should have been your last crusade, you old fool. Now look at this.
Jack pushed the door open with a growl, shaking blood and sweat free from his head. Nassana Dantius knelt on the floor with her hands on her head, both Banes's and Miranda's (stolen) swords pointed at her eyes widening as Jack strode inside, none of her guards in tow.
"I didn't want this, for the record." Jack flung his own blade to the side and knelt down next to her, bringing his bloody face close to hers. "Your Goddess did give me a mission. But I had another of my own. Involving your little trade in wire charms." He looked up at Miranda. "Infiltration went smooth, until her krogan found me."
"Is he…?" Nassana's lip wobbled as she looked up at Jack.
"Dead. Sorry." Jack flicked a hand back to the ajar door behind him. "They're alive, though. Killed two others in the opposite tower. But that's it. Any other deaths are on the assassin."
Banes coughed politely.
"And him."
"So." Nassana licked her lips and looked away. "What now?"
"We take you to your board meeting and leave the planet." Miranda started in surprise, but Jack lifted a hand. "We got what we came for. And we promised not to harm you."
"But…" Dantius looked up weakly. "The assassin…"
Jack shrugged. "I never saw him. He won't come in this room while we're in here." It was only a guess, but Jack looked up through the Void. They were the only living people in the room. Hell, they were the only conscious people in the building. "We can stop time, sweetheart." Well, they could. Jack decided not to mention that doing so at the very moment would probably cause him to pass out.
Jack extended a gloved hand, some of the flesh visible through the torn leather. Nassana took it tremulously. Jack jerked his head back.
"Come one. We'll get you cleaned up, and then you can tell us the way. We'll get you to the board safely. Past that is your concern." She would probably send a justicar after us regardless.
"And you won't go to anybody about your … evidence?" Nassana remained planted on the ground, despite gripping Jack's hand. Jack smiled down at her.
"I assure you – your dealings in wire charms are safe with me."
Jack looked down from the projector room. Nassana, nervous but commanding, gestured to a flickering screen about her upcoming plans for renovating some of the lower levels of Nos Astra. As far as Jack could tell, it involved the mass removal of impoverished alien immigrants in favor of shopping centers, and would involve heavy Eclipse involvement. But it was hard to tell from where he was, hacking into the projector.
"Outie, play the footage."
The diagrams changed to something a bit more lively. For a moment, Jack got to see Nassana's barely imperious expression change from confusion to livid horror as she turned to see her own face, writ large, smirk about killing her own sister.
"This is a mistake!" she cried out, but her fellow asari already smelled blood in the water, as well as a loose end to cut free. One even pounced forward and pinned her down while the others phoned the authorities. Doubtless somebody is getting a promotion. Jack did not smell virtue from where he stood, only opportunism. He could not help but crack a wry smile. At best, her replacement will just be a little less awful. Still, a marked improvement.
"I came here to kill the woman," said a calm, dry voice from behind Jack, making his blood freeze, "but it seems you have already succeeded in destroying her."
Jack turned, half expecting a blade to be pressed through his guts. Instead, he found a short, green alien with shining black eyes, shorter than him, staring back with his arms folded neatly behind. The drell inclined his head.
"Your methods are messy, but krogan rarely permit easy escape once the prey is found. Your combat ability commands respect, even if your assassin skills need work."
"I didn't come here to kill anybody." Jack cast a hand back at the now empty boardroom below. "Goddess's orders."
The drell sniffed. He stepped forward next to Jack. Even at a head shorter, Jack got a powerful impression of … well, power, from the drell. His lithe form rippled with muscle, from what Jack could see of it. Perfect control. A living weapon.
"I still have my orders you know," said the drell casually, not looking at Jack. "All you have done is made my job a little more difficult, but it would not be the first prison execution I have carried out. The Ascendancy demands her head. Literal or figurative – they said it at my discretion."
"I would recommend against it." The drell turned to him surprised. Jack gave him a tired look. "The asari Goddess-"
"Delilah."
Jack started. He gave the drell an incredulous look.
"The Void is not so secret to those willing to look. The hanar have always remained abreast of such events. So – what has Delilah told you?"
"That this one is to live. Otherwise we get a justicar sent after us." Jack shrugs. "Guess she plays favorites." Not like the Outsider.
"I see." The drell looked back at the board room. "I suppose that does change things."
For several long moments, maybe a minute, the two just stood there, surveying the last place Nassana Dantius would visit as a free woman. Then the drell looked up to Jack.
"A question, if I may, before I leave."
Jack looked down at the assassin, too tired to care if this was the end. He doubt he would be able to tell if the drell was about to kill him. Too professional for that sort of thing. He's not even really here right now.
"Shoot."
"You assassinated Desolas." It was not a question. The drell continued without pausing. "You have, time and time again, displayed a disregard for the lives of targets and that of galactic stability. You are a butcher's instrument, favored by the batarians for jobs deemed dirty or impossible. Yet this – this was done at the behest of who?"
"Myself." Jack hung his head and gave the drell a wry smile. "I thought killing the general would be the start of a new era. I forgot that first the old one has to end – and this one looks apt to end in the blood of my Empire."
"You consider yourself a patriot, then?"
Jack furrowed his brow, feeling a stir of something deep down.
"Always. Wasn't – wasn't it obvious?" I was raised in the Abbey. Until recently I was in contact with the Royal Spymaster herself. She – she was my friend. The Empress, I would do anything for-
"I see. Perhaps I did not have the grip of you." The drell shrugged. "Or perhaps the grip has changed. It is not my place to say. I am only the instrument of the hanar."
The drell extended an impeccable gloved hand. Jack gripped it with his own torn, bloodied fingers.
"I will relay what has happened to the Ascendancy." The drell inclined his head as he shook the hand once. "This solution may appease them. Her threat to the galaxy is ended."
"And if it isn't?"
The drell pulled his hand away. "Then my job is not done. I would recommend you be far from here by then." The drell smiled. "But that was already the plan, was it not?"
Jack gave a tired smile back and made for the exit. The drell watched him leave, arms folded behind his back, a mix of pity and respect fighting for dominance in his gaze.
