The Tracker of Goliath

Chapter 3

The unit on Theron's hit list was a Geth by the name of Apex, it traveled the Galaxy working for one crime ring after another. At this time, Apex is under the command of Goliath.

Practically every Synthetic in C-Sec's records is under Goliath's control, granted there are far less Ions under its grasp, but that had more to do with how many there were in existence compared to the Geth.

Theron arrived at Gate 42, seeing Apex's dropship, right on schedule, but something felt wrong. Sounds of rattling and screeches emitted from behind the dropship. Saria's limited security force often left many of the gate's self-policed, something criminals of Shaltaward used to their advantage.

Going through the gate and quietly stepping around the ship's stern. Theron stopped when he saw Apex, it wasn't alone and it wasn't far from the aircraft, yet it no longer walked. The Tracker observed as a group of three – a Turian, Human and Batarian – used Omni-Blades to slice off Apex's mechanical legs. The Geth platform screeched and twitched as part of its systems were being cut.

Theron pulled his M8-Predator pistol out of its holster, a tool he only had to use for threats. Seeking attention, he stomped his right foot on the metal surface, the rattle echoing off the walls.

Everyone in the opposing group turned around, not expecting an organic presence; unnerved by their incompetence to notice Theron's arrival, at first they believed him to be security.

Theron kept the pistol to his side, making its presence known, but not in use.

"I am not here to harm you, I am not here to stop you scavenging for parts, I am here to do a job," Theron announced. "If you let me take one minute of your time, you won't see me again."

The group looked at each other, confused by the Tracker, a calm voice and expression coupled with a firearm made for an environment of conflicting emotions.

The Human was the first to back away from Apex and his friends soon followed. Theron kept them at the corner of his eye as he stepped towards his target. Putting the pistol back in its holster, he brought up his Omni-tool and a rectangular device the size of an OSD, simply called a trapper, unique to trackers.

Apex's screech began to reduce, a synthesized voice began to translate the unit's algorithms into speech. Theron felt empathy for the Geth's restriction of language, having to slow down from light speed communicate with your own kind, to aural communication with everyone else must be oppressive.

"I-I-I-I'm exp-r-cin-g major hardwar- mal-l-l-functions," said Apex.

Theron entered the security code for his Trapper, out of three main settings, he selected "Contain."

"Will y-y-ou assi-st-st me?"

Theron placed the Trapper onto Apex's neck, the device magnetically attached itself as it scanned the Geth's AI-Core and began extracting its encoded "consciousness". The twitching Geth platform quickly shut down, its body becoming limp.

Theron detached the Trapper, and tucked it in his pocket. The motionless Geth laid on the ground, Theron didn't think anything of it, and left it behind for the scavengers to rip to pieces.

Dead organics weren't very useful. Synthetics however contained many qualities and are worth quite a lot in Citadel space and the Terminus systems. Whether the parts are used for black market augmentation or melted down and molded into firearms, synthetics had lots of worth to those who needed the credits, or enjoyed destroying them.

Theron always made sure to get to his target before scavengers did, he was sloppy this time, but managed to still get the AI before it shut down and wiped its memory.

The Tracker contacted a cab service a few blocks from this part of the Ward and headed over to Citadel Security, a force that would begrudgingly reward him.

The much faster elevator at C-Sec headquarters descended as Theron held the Trapper in his hands.

The Geth remained as distant adversaries to the Quarians for three hundred years, and while two generations of Quarian citizens lived and died, those same Geth remained.

When a Geth is uploaded into the Trapper, their systems are activated but unable to perform any action. The Geth don't feel pain or emote in the same way organics do, but as Legion proved, they're capable of individuality and desire.

The Geth's AI will recognize that its actions resulted in a wasted run-time and once it is released from the Trapper and C-Sec's custody, will find a new line of processing.

That's what Theron liked about the Geth, they were submissive; for all their talk of fighting for their life at all costs, Theron never felt threatened by a single flashlight head. All he needed to do was show a bit of force and they would give up, upload into the Trapper, work out their problem, and walk away never to cause trouble again.

AI's … those bastards were a whole other story.

The speedy elevator opened its doors to reveal C-Sec's main floor, Theron marked out the female Human receptionist at the front desk, Taylor.

Taylor didn't like Theron, as evidenced by her apathetic expression that she only wore in front of him.

"We received reports of scavengers disassembling a Geth at Saria," she said, her tone being much harsher than her facial expression. "Know anything about that?"

Theron's look reflected hers, muted, unintentionally – he didn't know how to communicate his body language – but it only upset Taylor more.

She sighed, keeping to traditions and asking the same question.

"What is it this time?"

He put down the Trapper on her desk.

"Apex, wanted on Terra Nova, Thessia, New Arcturus Station, The Citadel and approximately eight other highly populated planets. His criminal activity includes nine murders, twenty cases of smuggling, trafficking, multiple charges of drug possession, and one speeding ticket of 600 kilometers an hour."

Taylor rolled her eyes and took the Trapper off the table, handing it to a Turian in uniform next to her.

"Hands this over to the Techs."

Her fingers danced over an Omni-tool's sheen before Theron's beeped. The credits were sent to his account and the job was officially complete. He bowed his head slightly in acceptance, not that Taylor appreciated it.

She shook her head as he turned to leave. "Next time don't bother listing every minute thing it does okay? You can memorize useless information, congrats."

Theron wore a thick mask on top of thick skin, his middle aged appearance didn't make people like him, not when they learned of his profession. In this line of work, he felt it best to keep his speech minimal.

His index finger clicked the elevator key, its cue to descend.

"Theron," said Taylor.

The Tracker turned around, just as the elevator opened its doors.

Her apathy combined now with a hint of surprise. "The Executor would like to speak with you."

Theron kept his own surprise internal, never-the-less, he couldn't imagine a single reason why the Executor would be interested in him. C-Sec have never arrested him, they technically could but it would only hurt their already delicate relationship with Trackers.

His other question would be answered by the indifferent woman.

"The elevator will take you to his office," she said.

Confused but cooperative, he stepped inside the lift. Doors shut, and the enclosed capsule began climbing each floor, surpassing the level he entered previously as the elevator continued to rise. Stopping on the highest suite, the doors opened to reveal a relatively normal looking captain's quarters.

Theron hadn't seen many of them, the ones he did were usually belonging to those who were not so honorable. The Executor arose from his desk, reaching for something in the right drawer before standing straight in-front of the Tracker.

"Theron, glad you could come up," said the Executor.

The Tracker bowed his head.

The Turian gave a handout; this puzzled Theron, from his studies, Humans were the only ones that commonly made this gesture.

Regardless, Theron accepted, shaking the Turian's hand.

"As I'm sure you know, I'm Executor Vakarian, head of C-Sec. Officially it's my job to know when people like you arrive here but reality isn't so kind."

Vakarian gestured Theron to take a seat – which the Tracker accepted – the Executor's last words featured a sudden dash of melancholy.

"What do you mean?" asked Theron, unable to remain silent.

Vakarian thought he could say it without pause, but as little as it felt like it, only a day had passed since he heard the news.

"I'm sure that you have heard of the death of Shepar-" he stopped himself. "Of Commander Shepard."

Not understanding if it was a question or a statement, Theron struggled to fill the silence Vakarian created.

"Yes?" he said with hesitation.

Vakarian put his hands together, eyes peering down at his desk.

"I know the killer, I've known it for a long time," Vakarian gently moved a datapad to the end of his desk for Theron to reach. "He's given me nothing but trouble."

Theron gripped the datapad and scanned its contents as the Executor continued to explain.

Vakarian looked at the datapad with disdain in his eyes.

"Now he gives me grief … along with the rest of the galaxy."

Goliath, the infamous crime syndicate leader; C-Sec's file on him featured little of anything, no picture, date of birth, species or gender. The only thing listed were his charges, none of which he'd been brought in for.

Theron didn't learn anything new from the file, putting the datapad back on Vakarian's desk.

"Do you have proof that it is Goliath?" asked Theron.

Vakarian gave the Tracker a sealed bag, in it were small traces of shrapnel. Theron realized the instant his eyes laid upon them, that these metals didn't belong to a Geth or synthetic assistant. It was wholly unique, and unnerving.

Vakarian's lingering grief faded a little, replaced with fury.

"Techs were unable to match these with any synthetic in our database, and Shepard would never let herself be killed by a Geth, I know her. She could take on a battalion of them single-handedly."

Theron tried to feel as much of the metal as he could through the plastic that covered it, still unable to attribute it to anything he's felt, smelled or unfortunately tasted.

The Tracker gave this evidence back to Vakarian.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

The Executor looked him directly in the eye.

"I want you to find it, make it suffer, and kill it."

Theron hesitated, "Synthetics can't suffer, they don't feel pain."

"Make it feel pain."