The Tracker of Goliath

Chapter 13

"Damaged" perfectly described the building Razor's hideout was located. Zakera Ward had a reputation of being fully restored. This held true for richer areas that weren't far from the Presidium. For the poorer districts, the station retained many scars from the Reaper War.

Crooked, decayed, and barely standing, Aria parked only a few yards away from the front entrance. The roof appeared too uneven and dangerous even for the pirate queen of Omega to land on. Aria multitasked slamming the door and equipping her pistol, a weapon that'd seen more death and destruction than most lifespans.

Theron took out his stock M-3 Predator. A weapon that he now wished he received more training for. All the extranet videos in the world weren't going to assist him if this venture ended in death.

Theron never feared death because honestly, he never confronted it. Training to deal with Synthetics for years, they quickly became as dangerous and threatening as a fire-extinguisher. Theron needed only his special tools to take care of the job.

Today, his inexperience of violence left him very green in comparison to Aria.

"Let's get this over with," she said.

Jolted back into the situation, Theron nodded and followed Aria's lead.

The front door screeched as its sensors picked up Aria's presence. Footsteps dragged along the cracked flooring inside, the pirate queen readied her pistol, centuries of experience leveling her sights for the eyes.

"Ready your weapon and stand by my side," she ordered.

Theron listened and held his weapon in front, aiming as well as he could. The building's ground floor had a T-square layout, with two entrances and a hallway in the middle leading to the elevator; raving in the middle of said hallway was a fuzzy haired human, hopped up on narcotics.

The Tracker and Queen held their weapons up, the man bashed his head very hard into the wall after his eyes settled upon Theron. Analyzing the situation, Theron assessed the man as harmless, but in their way.

Aria readied her stance for a kick she performed against many irritants.

"Daniel!" shouted the man, his voice as wretched as his appearance.

Realizing that shout was aimed at him, Theron's skin crawled.

Perplexed by the raving man's exclamation, Aria held her stance and waited to see where this situation took her.

"Danny! Mother fucking, Danny! It's me little bro!" he rambled, stumbling towards Theron.

The Tracker lowered his weapon as the man surprised him with a bear hug, one forceful enough to hitch Theron's breathing.

Aria lowered her weapon with a grin she couldn't resist.

The crazy's hands cupped Theron's cheeks as the Tracker stood there like a pillar, a very nervous pillar.

"It's me! It's your brother, Danman! Scotty! Where've you been man? It's been like, fifteen years!"

Theron's eyes gazed at Aria's, one silent word that he mentally screamed.

Help.

Aria couldn't bring herself to do it. She revelled in Mr. Know-it-all looking like he was going to shit his pants.

Theron's plead was drowned by Scotty's meandering drivel.

"My brother! We need to catch up man! I need to hear how much better you've been doing than m-"

His request was cut short as the Tracker shoved Scotty out of the way, put a hand on Aria's shoulder, gesturing towards the elevator. Aria walked along with Theron, but only for the amusement.

Scotty didn't seem to realize what happened, desperate, he slammed his head against the wall, echoing his previous attempt, with more brutality. Reeling from the blow hard enough to leave a blood mark, he started running to the elevator.

Theron's index finger drummed the "close door" key like a soldier rapid firing his assault rifle.

"Danny! What are you doing man! Don't leave me behind again! We were jus-"

The opened doors recused themselves from the chilling display, for Theron. Aria took the shutting doors as her cue to let her harsh laughter bounce off the elevator walls.

Theron's wide eyes looked at Aria, the Asari holding onto the railing for what appeared to be her life. Wiping tears from her eyes, she looked up, only to see the Tracker's eyes in the mirrored walls, and started laughing all over again.

Theron didn't think this job could get any worse.

Slowly recovering, Aria stood straight, grin in full.

"So when do we meet the rest of the family?" she joked.

Theron didn't like Aria joking at his expense.

"I have never met that man in my adult life."

Aria's smirk didn't fade.

"Are you sure? Never titled yourself as 'Dan: The Master Tracker'?"

"My name is Theron."

The Tracker wanted to sigh in relief when Aria's infuriating expression dimmed, she was surprised how upset the situation and her mocking made him. Perhaps this man wasn't the sexless robot she first saw.

"No need to get your panties in a bunch," she said. "I prefer keeping my past a part of me as well; less risky."

Theron, abnormally, raised an eyebrow. "Safer?"

The elevator chimed a familiar sound, indication that their selected floor had been reached.

Aria puffed at Theron's comment.

"Safe isn't in my vocabulary," she said, raising her weapon and moving forward as the elevator door opened.

Theron followed behind closely. Their floor's modeling and construction echoed the entrance level, the only different being that the surface underneath his feet felt much thinner than solid ground. Their footsteps softly paced over the dust riddled carpeting, torn beyond repair.

No crazies inhabited this hall, but remnants of disadvantaged individuals littered Theron's senses, mostly smell. Dollar market booze reeked and red sand filled gaps in carpeting.

Aria wouldn't have been surprised if the drugs staining her shoes came from a shipment of hers. Supply in demand was high in Citadel Space and Aria sold to whatever empire had the credits. Progressing through the smells and silence, they arrived at their destination. An apartment, substandard entrance and number in front of them; Razor's intent.

Aria holstered the pistol to activate her installed hacking program. Given by a Terminus hacker who owed her money, it was one of the fastest viruses around.

Theron stepped past her. Insulted, Aria opened her mouth to voice her offense; five finger gestures later, the door opened, and Theron's Omni-tool dulled its lights.

Back to Mr. Know-it-all. She thought.

Knowing what message he sent to her, Theron stepped inside with Aria beside him.

Absence of the horrid smell, the Apartment's beauty was tarnished by dust. Feeling particles, Theron ignored them and searched for anything that may prove to be useful for their investigation.

Their hunt, in the eyes of the Pirate Queen, hinged on this inspection.

Theron drifted towards Razor's shutdown terminal, resting on top of an office desk. Aria watched him tap his fingers and by the power of abracadabra, the machine powered back to life.

"I will scan for information and data contained in Razor's terminal," said Theron.

Aria nodded before looking elsewhere.

The apartment consisted of one large open room, featuring a kitchen, dining table, lounge, and office desk that Theron occupied. One hallway existed, on the right, Aria ambled down to find Razor's bedroom connected to a large washroom and shower.

The bathroom consisted of gleaning metal and level flooring and ceilings.

Narrowing her search, Aria slowly examined each millimetre of every panel, knowing that if there was a single unnecessary gap or angle, it wouldn't be an accident.

Placed behind the sink's faucet, laid a button that to any normal person, would just look like a part of the wall. Expecting the obvious, her wish was granted with the button's press.

The shower of gargantuan proportions, broad enough to lavish dozens, revealed its purpose. Three panels, tucked behind robust materials, opened. Emitting from the ceiling, lasers scanned the open space, creating a grid. Holographic displays initiated, design schematics were split into multiplied windows, all save files were detected.

Forty two designs were digitally sketched; each one radically different from the other. Aria riffled through the files, amazed by Razor's work. The last of which being a synthetic unit unlike anything Aria had ever laid eyes on.

Unknown to her discovery, Theron would discover a different side of the same page.

Encrypted but breakable, the Tracker hacked into Razor's files. Cataloging extensive pornography, weapons packages, and narcotics; Theron's interest in all mentioned subjects, remained non-existent. Razor's personal documents peaked Theron's interest; his ability to scan through the hundreds of documents in a matter of minutes, proved to be invaluable.

The first batch of entries were nothing more than Razor tracking shipments and ideas of software programs and hardware utilities he would need to test. Theron's interest in the second batch came to light when one of his shipments had been attacked by pirates dumb enough to enter Citadel space. His transport of illegal but popular drugs crashed on a nearby ice Planet. During the wait for rescue, the squads on Razor's ship encountered a team of battle-hardened Alliance soldiers. Both forces struggled in the blizzard, but two of Razor's ship member survived the battle and were treated to an underground lab base. Up to date on his galactic knowledge and research, Theron remarked that they appeared to be similar to other Alliance and former Cerberus facilities, some that leaked out after Commander Shepard uncovered a few.

One-hundred personal synthetic assistant units were found in the facility. All of them plugged in to be integrated with an artificial intelligence. The Enhanced Defense Intelligence laid the ground work for the program's source code, but with modifications made.

Razor didn't care some of his recruits were dead, he was beyond elated. All the red sand in the world could not match his thrill on what he acquired by chance. Razor had something incredible on his hands and the Alliance had one hell of a mess to cover up. Razor's shipments became his secondary focus. Spending time here and at his gang's headquarters, the majority of that time was spent testing the artificial intelligence and witnessing its capabilities.

Razor previously conducted copious amounts of research into studying SMG heat sink mods used during the Reaper War. He was amazed by the creators work, because they managed to construct an attachment that negated the heat of thermal clips. Knowing how many credits every army in galactic space spent towards developing stealth systems and ways to mask heat, Razor imagined that if configured in the correct manner, these Heat Sinks could be remade to develop a cloaking system of infinite capacity.

Now inspired by AI, the insane criminal overlord had to continue his work on both projects.

Negating much of his empire, Razor worked tirelessly; ignorant of sleep and how close C-Sec was to nailing him to the wall, he locked himself away and devoted every fibre of his being to this creation. Constructed in his main-base of operations, on the day of his death, Razor completed his invention and gave it birth. An artificial intelligence that was undetectable and invisible. Its programming, created by Cerberus, modified by the Alliance, and completed by Razor, the AI followed a small number of protocols.

Everything Razor failed to create, it would succeed. All Synthetics who followed it, would follow forever. All Organics would never threaten it, and would never make an attempt. All who opposed it, would die.

It would never be seen.

It would never be stopped.

It would never be killed.

Aria's heavy combat boots echoed down the hall, carpeting dampened her sounds as she neared Theron's location. Looking over his shoulder, she recognized the data's significance based on Theron's facial expression, and that they were both on the same page.

"Nailed, you son of a bitch," snarled the Pirate Queen, wishing she acted on her suspicion as soon as she landed here, save her men and woman from death by Psychobot 3000.

Topping his index finger, Theron brought up Garrus Vakarian's contact information and address on his Omni-tool, copying each file and sending it to the Executor.

"He will not be able to transfer all information, Alliance Command will make quick action to sue the Executor," said Aria.

"I don't believe that Garrus will be concerned about that," replied Theron, as the files were uploaded.

Aria stepped away from Theron to observe the rest of Razor's apartment. "Got all that you can from that thing?" she asked.

The Tracker stood up from Razor's office chair.

"Everything that will assist in stopping his creation."

Contempt, Aria turned around, gesturing to the entrance and exit.

"Let's go then, I hate this place already."

Walking next to her, Theron received a message from his employer. The Executor's fire team sent to Aria's base was now scanning the scene and collecting evidence, not that it would lead to anything they now didn't already know.

Garrus regretted that the Alliance could be implicated in the last eight years of organized crime on Citadel station. For now, he would need to read past Theron's cliff notes version and study the full list of documents himself.

Kolyat and the rest of the investigators he brought to assist were being transported to the morgue. Autopsy's would be done out of protocol and procedure, not out of need to find out how the officers were killed.

Message sent, information gathered, and the plot unravelled, preventing escalation became the final goal for Theron, Aria, and Garrus.

Turning the corner around the entrance to Razor's apartment, a prick on Aria's chest developed into wound; sharp blade penetrated her skin and pierced through her heart. It was a mercy, had the blade ended one millimetre short, she would've bled internally to death, while simultaneously unable to consume the oxygen needed to fuel her lungs.

The blade violently rippled the Pirate Queen's laceration; eyes as dead as her mind, soul, and body, she arched to the floor, blood dribbled from her mouth as she laid on the ground, her life taken.

Eyes wide, heart pounding, ears ringing the Asari's final breath, Theron ran. The staircase door opened, just barely matching the Tracker's pace of movement. The tip of the feet almost clipping with the door's panel, as it vanished below the floor.

Skipping steps, jumping down small flights of stairs, and running between every flat piece of hard metal, Theron ran. Destined to die by the edge of a blade, mortified by what he witnessed, Theron ran, knowing that he would not make it out alive. Despite the statistic improbability, Theron didn't accept his fate, and continued to sprint. Vision blurred, short memory unfocused, and external sounds dulled, Theron didn't know what was happening. All that mattered was getting the vehicle that brought him here, and would now, if he didn't die, get him out of here. Descending every individual floor, not knowing what waited for him on each one was unequivocal torment.

Ground floor awaiting his presence, he ran through it. No relief until his escape, the Tracker sprinted out the entrance, entering the vile streets. Recognizing him to be in radius, the car's door opened. Theron's feet left the ground, leaping into the air, adrenaline protecting him from the pain a rough landing in the driver's seat brought.

Stomping on the throttle with the doors wide open, Theron felt the wind as the vehicle accelerated. The doors shut as he flew fast and low to the ground, close enough to decapitate someone, had they been in his path.

Catching his breath, hearing his heart beat unlike it ever had, the vehicle fiercely rose up, increasing its altitude and speed. Breaking approximately ten vehicle operating laws, Theron entered C-Sec's address into the on-board computer. Setting a destination where he would be safe, Theron couldn't let himself relax until this job was complete.

Until he killed the unkillable.