The Tracker of Goliath

Chapter 15

Asari Councillor Tevos, remained in her seat, hands resting against her face. Photographs of Garrus Vakarian's corpse laid on the floor, mocking Tevos' lack of involvement in this case. She felt that C-Sec's Executor could handle the situation with Goliath while she and other politicians devoted their energy towards fundraising, gatherings, and charities to prepare for re-election. When Shepard desperately pleaded for a brief reinstatement of her Spectre status to go after Goliath, Tevos only allowed it with half of her attention.

And then Goliath murdered Shepard, Alenko, and their child.

During speeches, her thoughts drifted off-course, images of the savior's family repeatedly flashed her mind's eye, and her body's expression of positive objectivity, were replaced with a peevish demeanor.

Granting Aria access to the Citadel would help solve this problem, she thought. Hiring a Tracker, would solve this. Staying clear of Garrus' unending thirst for revenge, and focusing on the Citadel's future would result in Goliath's demise.

Yes, Vakarian's decaying corpse was mocking her. Theron's pale vessel rubbed it in her face. Aria's wounded cadaver, smeared her conscience. Everyone else from Kolyat and Declan, to Aria's elite squad, made it inarguable that Goliath was a walking bloodbath. Datapads containing these images were stacked into a pile of death next to her.

That despair and misery made for a story that couldn't help but spread across the galaxy. Every news corporation in the Milky Way were chanting into the echo-chamber of disaster. Tevos flipped through channel after channel of an event that involved the galactic station she took part in leading for generations.

Tired of listening to Emily Wong's persistent reminder of Vakarian's death, Tevos moved her left palm to make a swipe gesture, changing the news channel to another, this one, located in the Terminus system.

"-ace station is reporting a mass-abandonment, as it was recently discovered that almost five-hundred thousand citizens have purchased tickets to leave Citadel Station, with that number only continuing to grow each day."

Citizens were petrified.

They survived galactic-genocide, a decade of recovery and rebuild, and death beyond any imaginable figure, only to see this galactic station be slowly overwhelmed by a single name.

Shepard, Garrus, Aria, Kolyat, and Theron couldn't beat it.

What chance did Tevos have?

The Councillor's office door chimed, indicating the arrival of a single person, Tevos' assistant, her exquisite designer clothing contrasting against her shaken expression.

Tevos stood and looked, resting her hands behind her back, feigning confidence.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's the Ion's world Councillor. It's been compromised."

Tevos' heart sank.

Theron has comparatively, woken up far less than the average person. His lack of sleep and the persistence of his conciseness always fueled him. Due to this unusual schedule, the few times where he did sleep often left him feeling wretched when waking up. His eyes would strain upon opening, the mind reeled and his head would spin, no amount of coffee in the world could make him feel focused and on-point.

This time, it was even worse.

Theron's left arm was covered underneath his weight, when lifted up, his skin echoed the touch of a hundred pins piercing a layer; the limb moved on its own as the odd sensation began to normalize, and the Tracker could more easily adjust his fingers.

Opening his eyes, Theron discovered why his body felt akin to cracked glass, he was laying on a hard floor. Realizing the cause, his hands lifted him off the ground to force him into a standing posture. Throat sore and head pounding, he began to observe his surroundings, if only to distract from the pain.

But the ache didn't fade, because those surroundings were non-existent. Theron's location was an endless horizon of white.

The last thing he remembered happening was seeing his employer shot by his own gun, held in Goliath's mechanical hand, before speaking to the machine itself. Razor's creation looked at him and held a device, immediately upon activation, Theron lost consciousness and woke up here.

Wherever here is.

It couldn't be the Virtual World that belonged to the Ions, it had people, places, and cities; but Theron remembered that the Ion's Virtual World originated as a canvas before the Supercomputer began to load multiple layouts.

Where he stood looked exactly the same as that canvas.

Theron began to walk forward. His footsteps were much softer than on the Citadel, or indeed anywhere else. While it was hard to tell visually, he could feel himself moving in the world. Most baffling, Theron was certain that he could see a horizon of sorts. The same way an organic sees progress when journeying through an ocean, even without clouds or small fixtures of land to compare.

Never stopping, the endless movement was starting to hurt his bones.

He should've been analysing what Goliath did to him, but he didn't want to think about it. Not thinking about it in a way only made Theron feel more pathetic, that his emotions and mental state brought him down to the point of not thinking about the events responsible; but at the same time, not thinking about it felt good.

Well… maybe not good.

Perhaps it could be seen as a better alternative.

But then he saw something that kicked the mind into overdrive. At a very far distance, he could see someone.

A person.

Life.

This other person didn't see Theron sprinting towards him at first, but soon, a faint noise could be heard. Theron's heart raced faster when he could see it wasn't even just one person. Another figure stood next to the living being that the Tracker's eyes were almost locked-on to.

Time flew at blistering pace, and in what felt like mere-minutes, Theron's sprint slowed down to a walk.

The Tracker was panting, sweating, yet relieved.

Until he saw who the people were. At least, one of the people.

"Declan?" asked Theron.

He didn't know why, he already knew how.

Goliath's former builder stood exactly as he did when Theron last saw him alive, outfit and all. The only difference being a little bit of dried blood on his left foot. Theron realized that stain could only be from the wet floors of Aria's headquarters where Goliath committed a massacre.

Next to him however, was a women. Not Turian, Human, Asari, Salarian, or anything else… but an Ion.

A true Ion.

The humanoid creature looked exactly as Theron remembered Ions do. Her short height contrasted with Declan's near seven foot stature, but Theron knew that Declan was all too familiar with what it was like to be in an Ion's original body, he was in one for eight-thousand years.

"You know me?" inquired Declan, unable to mask the surprise in his tone.

Theron barely heard Declan's question. His mind raced with questions of how this could be. Declan was dead. Full stop. How is he standing here, and with a woman that is clearly supposed to be in the Ion's Virtual World?

To keep some form of interaction, Theron tried to end the silence.

"Garru- the Executor hired me as a Tracker. You were involved in the case I investigated. I stood behind the glass during your interview with C-Sec."

Declan appeared to loath the mention of his interview, admitting himself a murderer to Citadel's security, all in the name of bringing back his sister.

His sister…

Theron briefly stared at the female Ion standing next to Declan, without an introduction or previous experience, the Tracker couldn't help but voice his discovery.

"And you must be Ira," Theron said cautiously.

The Ion's breath was held.

Declan put his hand on her shoulder to assure her, she seemed too focused on solving a puzzle in her own head to feel it.

Theron's stomach began to sink due to his own thoughts. Goliath went to Aria's facility, and seemingly killed Declan, but unlike every other victim in that complex, Declan wasn't sliced to bits, his body had no wounds. Theron remembered that he himself suffered no wounds from Goliath.

"What is this place?" the Tracker asked Declan.

The Turian closed his eyes, expecting this question, one that stings him to the bone. Ira, Declan's sister, also seemed hurt by this inevitable inquiry.

"Goliath's own Virtual World," said Declan.

Theron's eyes went wide.

"How do you know?" he quickly countered, sounding more accusatory than he meant.

"Because I built the device that links to it."

The device…

Theron's skin started to shiver.

"Then… how is she here?"

Ira's pain returned, but due to frequency of its existence, she appeared numb as she leaned against her brother, having gotten used to his new form. Declan hugged her, if only to stop himself from falling apart.

"Goliath made me an offer. If I constructed a device that could upload any Ion's consciousness back into the Virtual World, it would bring my sister back."

"…And he used the device he created against you?"

Declan was fighting to keep his expression calm and collected, making for one that was neither.

"He gave me a starting point, a blueprint of connections and parts for me to start with. Goliath already knew how to move Ions outside of their own Virtual World, but it didn't know how to send Ion's from the real world back into it without an upload station. This place, is the world he used to extract the first Ion he had control over. He took Ira away, and left her here… he did that before I began the project…"

Declan shook, his breath was uneven, his left hand gently rested on his sister's shoulder, while his right made a clenched fist that looked like it could collapse on itself.

Theron's expression was that of revelation, one that a person has when pondering an emotional question.

"This device…" said Theron. "It can take an Ion that has been moved into the real world, back into the Virtual World?"

Declan's guilt ridden anger subsided a little by Theron's question.

"Yes. That is its purpose."

Theron's heart sank.

"But… I'm human."

Declan started at him.

"And I'm Turian… but we will always be Ions."

Theron's eyes began to stare off into the distance as his mind entered a state of shock, realizing what Goliath has done to him, where the machine brought him back to.

Theron closed his eyes, covered his ears, and crouched down, torturing his tired legs. This couldn't be happening. He was no longer an Ion, he hunted Ions, criminal Ions, those who used their eight-thousand year existence to never accomplish or learn anything. Theron wasn't trapped as kid inside a virtual space. He's a human being that prevented any form of digital-life to echo the error of organics. How can an Ion possibly do that, when they are a digital being themselves?

Declan and Ira watched as Theron aimed to shut down the world around him, trying as hard as he could to still believe in the fantasy he told himself, to devalue those he came from in search of becoming someone else, someone better, someone who wasn't an endless, emotional child who could never escape or grow.

Suddenly, Theron could hear footsteps over his cries. They belonged to someone in the distance. The Ion stood up as he tried to focus on this being in the distance. A new thought hit him hard.

Theron didn't think he could feel any worse, with tears in his eyes and hands shivering, he watched the new figure move towards them. As this unknown being stepped towards them, more could be seen in the distance. At first, it was dozens. Then more started to show from each side. Hundreds. Within moments, he couldn't see the horizon without his vision being flooded with Ions walking, not knowing where they are, or who's responsible.

Theron could scream, stand, cry…

Yet he couldn't.