Zenzin knew this was going to happen, so he was glad that it was finally over. Every STG members knew it: It was part of the service contract – within the space of three months of their retirement, the military had to right to call them back to battle for one last mission. It was supposed to help the military to re-adjust to losing an important member… but most of the time, it was taken advantage of. That was the reason why STG called him back to analyse a petty artefact they found. Zenzin decided not to complain – he did manage to reassert himself as one of the best ancient-technology scientists in the galaxy.
He traced the emblem on his left arm, remembering the edge that was chipped off in battle. It was the last time he would wear this emblem, and he knew he would feel empty without it. Perhaps another one may take its place, but nothing else would make him prouder than this triangular shape that no civilians bothered to notice.
Zenzin looked ahead, puzzled as to why he did so. He felt something – a soldier's sense of foreboding, or just twitchy nerves. He was in the Citadel, leaving the Embassies after the second ceremonial farewell. As always, the hallways were crowded with people. Diplomats, economists, reporters, high-ranked military men. All with status, power and money.
One man particular caught his eye, mainly because he was deliberately trying not to be seen. He was a small human, wearing a nicely polished Alliance uniform and a Captain's badge. Big rank, sure, but that wasn't the reason why Zenzin started to follow his movements. The man had three small facial scars but a welcoming face, which was currently set in careful expressionlessness. He walked confidently with a relatively quick gait, but neither his clothes nor his body made any sound as he walked. He seem to unknowingly shadow other people's movements, blending in perfectly within the crowd.
Zenzin caught a glimpse of his chest as he approached – L. Jackson.
He jumped back in surprise – here was the man that Doctor Solus had ordered him to join! He had only known him electronic messages… imagined him to be much taller and muscular, probably with some tattoo on his arm. But no, this human was… smooth yet strong, for the lack of better description.
Zenzin moved towards the man, glad to see him at last. Regardless of who he was, this man was going to provide him with continuing excuse to leave his home.
He bumped into a Turian guard, who shot him a dirty look. He adjusted his walk slightly to make sure that the Turian could see his emblem. The guard's eyes widened at the STG symbol, and her hurried away.
Exactly.
Zenzin turned his attention back to the Alliance man… or lack thereof. He blinked, and searched the crowd again, but the man had disappeared.
Impressive. Or I'm hallucinating. Which reminds me, I should probably visit the Alliance office.
…
Admiral Han was resting from work when his desk beeped. He drew on last breath, then folded his omni-cigar into his pocket.
"Yes?"
"Sir! There is a Salarian who wants to see you. He was in the Alliance Military Office with a pistol and a full set of armour requesting to meet with you. We have detained him, though we are unable to take any action because he was a former STG. What do you want to do, sir?"
The Admiral felt his hair rise in panic.
"Identity?"
"Lieutenant Coron Zenzin, sir."
The Admiral recognised the name from one of Agent Li's messages, sending his panic over the edge.
"Don't hurt him! Send him in. Weapons and armour granted."
"Sir!"
Admiral calmed himself down. The security was doing a good job, but they were doing too well. Did they not know that they could have caused a diplomatic incident? The Admiral fiddled with his uniform, straightening the creases that were already straight. He glanced at his shoes, which hadn't been polished for three days. They were losing their mirror-like gloss but still looked presentable enough. Finally, he checked his hat, making sure that the Alliance mark was in the dead centre.
By the time he had adjusted his uniform twice, the door of his office opened. A Salarian soldier entered the room, standing straight and tall. He had the atmosphere of pride around him, which the Admiral liked. His armour was scratched in many places, though it was shined and polished, intentionally highlighting the battle-scars like trophies.
"Admiral Han? Greetings. My name is Coron Zenzin, former Salarian Special Tasks Group member. I apologise to barge in like this… It is an honour to meet you." The Salarian spoke at a comfortable pace.
"Nice to meet you Lieutenant Zenzin. You are being recruited by Captain Jackson, is that correct?" The Admiral asked after shaking his hand. The Salarian only reached to his shoulder height, but he didn't seem daunted by that fact. Come to think of it, he was just as tall as Jackson.
"It seems so. I wished to present myself to you first beforehand and learn a little about this other Spec-Ops group." The Salarian replied.
"Well Lieutenant, you did not need to see me beforehand. Captain Jackson has full control over his crewmembers, so it was unnecessary. However, I appreciate your deeds. Regarding the explanations of HIGHCOM… that will be long and difficult and it is best if I send you documents instead of explaining." The Salarian nodded, understanding the busy life that many superiors led.
"Thank you kindly."
"Right now though, I would like to welcome you to HIGHCOM. Although I cannot make you into an Agent yet, you will soon find many advantages in politics and security…"
Their chat went for a little longer, but soon returned to the crucial point.
"Now, you should meet your new Captain. He's an interesting man, but one that I personally trust. He is actually in one of the STG offices right now, so perhaps you should go to greet him."
"That would be a good idea, sir. Which office is he in?"
"Irregular Cargo Management, I believe. A strange place to have a meeting."
The Salarian looked a little shocked. He quickly thanked the Admiral for the meeting and left.
…
Jackson followed the Salarian's lead, willingly letting himself fall into a trap. It was mostly out of curiosity, since he couldn't think up of any reason why the STG wanted him dead. He was hoping that these Salarians didn't need much convincing to start talking.
They were in a heavily guarded complex, in the part of the Citadel that Jackson had not yet visited before. It went inside the actual hull of the Citadel, a place strictly forbidden to civilians. The fortress was refurbished in the traditional Salarian style.
And that meant heavy gates, armed guards and cameras.
It was a place where nobody was welcome. The people acted that way, too, only minding their own business and ignored whoever was passing by.
They made their way through the complex maze of corridors and entered a dead-end room. Jackson scanned it. A circular table, no cameras, a heavy, iron-weaved box in the centre and three more Salarians with guns. With their entry, there were now seven Salarians. It was lit in scientific examination lights, highlighting the contrast of profiles.
The door slid shut, then sealed itself with gaseous hiss.
"Apologies Captain Jackson for… rather unwelcoming environment. This room was the one with the best security." His Salarian guide said as he offered him a seat. Jackson sat down, acutely aware that he was trapped.
"No need to fret. Let's get to business." He replied.
"Indeed, Captain." The Salarian guide replied, sitting opposite to him. Jackson only then noticed his eyes – it had a faraway, trance-like expression… one of the first signs of indoctrination.
Shit
"The reason for your meeting today is to gain permission from you to access your medical profiles."
"Which you have already. I believe the real reason is in this box." Jackson replied, not bothering to hide his charging biotics. The air filled with static as his body flickered with poisonous blue, but none of the people in the room seemed to care.
Double shit.
"Indeed. You are worthy of Their interest." The Salarian said with a small smirk. He reached forward and opened the box.
Jackson felt a sharp jab in his left shoulder. His body reacted before his mind, turning around and landing a hard punch into the thin air. There was a heavy thud, and a Salarian's body appeared. Jackson's punch had destroyed his cloak, and probably some bones, too. A syringe, its contents emptied into his bloodstream, fell from his shoulder and shattered as it hit the ground.
Everyone else in the room stood still as stone, and expectantly stared at him. Jackson turned to face the box.
Within was a piece of exotic metal plate. Though he couldn't tell where it came from, he could guess well enough. It was a Sovereign fragment.
We meet again.
No!
Paths of chance is set.
The other Salarians slowly approached, while Jackson staggered from poison. He felt his senses slipping away, focusing sharply on the voice.
Why do you resist?
Get out of my head!
The cycle must continue.
Jackson lashed out, but he could no longer summon his powers. Whatever that Salarian injected, it was specially designed against him. He struggled to stay upright as his world spiralled away.
Stupid scientists. Resistance against toxins? That's working sooo well, isn't it?
The experiment is perfect.
Some people said that to me. They're all dead.
A third mind entered his ravaged consciousness, awoken from its infinite slumber. It did not speak, but watched patiently for his orders.
Not yet. Not here…
…
I see. Your petty presence is divided.
Didn't I tell you to get out?
One of the Salarians grabbed his arms and pulled them together. Another pointed his gun at his head. The metallic fragment seem to shiver, as if alive with excitement.
That's it. Whatever. Go. All of them here.
…!
…
Jondum Bau heard gunshots from room 101, and immediately knew that his suspicions were correct. He had been tracking the Geth Analysis team's movements for the past three weeks, which had led him to this mysterious meeting. They have been behaving in a very peculiar manner, accessing databases and resources that did not relate to their work. He had let them continue, interested to see how far they would go.
But this was enough. He could not risk a diplomatic incident, especially with a Spec-Ops approved organisation.
He swiped his hand over the black panel, which should have opened the door. Instead, it stayed silent. He tried again, but the black panel didn't react. Frustrated, he pulled out the panel with his omni-blade, hot-wiring the controls.
Somebody ran around the corner, puffing in exhaustion. Bau pulled out his pistol to confront the newcomer.
"Spectre Bau! This is Zenzin, sir!" The Salarian said. Sighing in relief, Bau lowered his weapon but did not holster it.
"Zenzin, good to see you. Quick! Help me take down this door!"
They both flinched as something hit the door with a loud clang. The human didn't have a lot of time.
"Yes sir!" Lieutenant Zenzin said as opened his omni-tool. The security of the room was the best that money could offer, but Bau knew its weaknesses.
"Stab the place half a meter to the right, fourty two centimeters down when I say three." Bau said, finally connecting the last wire together. He wrapped his fingers around the final cord.
"One, two, three!"
The door popped open, and a body tumbled out from the inside, covering the metal floor with blood. Bau noted a scent of chill wafting through the doorway as he raised his weapon to head height.
A figure jumped out, landing on top of him and knocking his gun away from his hands. He fell to the ground, landing on his back painfully. He opened his eyes to face the assailant and was traumatised at the sight.
He was a human male, at most in his early thirties, wearing what used to be an Alliance uniform. It was now covered in green and red – a mix of human and Salarian blood. His face looked friendly enough, save for three unnoticeable facial scars. However, his expression was empty, devoid of life, save for the eyes which flared in furious anger. He raised his fist to strike, but stopped.
The fire in his eyes died.
"Captain Jackson?" Zenzin asked, unsure if he should shoot him or not.
The human nodded and got up, offering his hand as support. Bau took it, still too aware of his bloody hand.
"Sorry. I thought you were an enemy." He said. He then closed his eyes, lost his balance, and collapsed backwards. Zenzin caught him during his fall, and looked towards Bau, waiting for further orders.
"Take him towards the hospital but put him on a temporary travel ban. I need to know what happened in there."
More people arrived at the scene, surprised at the presence of a Spectre. They were even more surprised when they saw the chaos. Zenzin ushered the onlookers away, asking them for medics.
Bau picked up his pistol and entered the room, fearful of what he might find inside.