Chapter 2
The Dreamer lifted his gaze to the sky, his red eyes reflecting the vast expanse above him. A dozen moons dotted the crimson void, and a single sun shone down on this world, a red giant whose light and radiation beat down with tremendous force. Strong winds swept the dark sand around the Dreamer, his cloak swirled with it, the red and black cloth dancing around him.
The Dreamer looked down, his eyes meeting the horizon. It wasn't real of course, this world. A figment of his guilty imagination. Another nightmare to punish his wickedness. He could accept that, this was his penance, he had to atone for being so weak, for allowing such terrible things to happen, it was the only way.
He knew it was a dream by looking at his hands, in his dreams his left arm was there again, not a twisted borg implant, but his real flesh and blood arm, both it and his body could feel pain again, where as in the waking world his body was immune to it, a finely honed killing machine that felt no pain or fear, only all consuming guilt.
His mind raced, these moments of lucidity were rare, and thus he could not help but form questions in his mind. How long had he slept? How many nightmares had come and gone? How much longer would it take to for him to fully atone? And what was his name? No answers were forthcoming, and of all the questions, the last was the most perplexing. He remembered what he had done, remembered why he had to dream, but his name escaped him. It was such a silly thing, not being able to remember ones own name, perhaps he had been sleeping longer than he had thought.
He could hear sounds of battle in the distance now, the clatter of small arms fire, the report of explosions, the smell of burning flesh carried on the wind. Soon the nightmare would begin in earnest, he would let it come, he had to. He strode forward, his metallic boots carving a swath through the dark sand. Just over the next dune and he'd see it, a terrible battle that he had helped instigate long ago, and he would feel every last impact, every last thrill of fear, every last dying breath. He would see, hear, and feel everything, and he would atone. As he scaled the dune he saw a small figure, a young human girl with long red hair in tattered garments sitting at the dune's crest, facing away from him towards the battle below. He approached her swiftly, unable to compute the meaning of her presence.
"The one eyed man is coming." The voice was sad, and it made the Dreamer's heart ache at the sound. "The time for dreaming is almost at an end." She continued, still not facing away from the battle that was even now unfolding at the base of the massive dune.
The Dreamer did not speak at first, he only moved to stand next to her, his red eyes observing the carnage below. After a moment of contemplation, at last he spoke. "I have not fully atoned. I will continue to live in these hellish nightmares until my physical body wastes away. When I am dust, that is when the dreaming will end."
"This is not your choice." Was the curious reply. "The one eyed man needs help, without you, many more lives will end, more than you can fathom."
The Dreamer had never experienced anything like this, dozens of questions rose to mind. Who was this girl? Who was the one eyed man? What could all this mean?
The red haired girl smiled, turning to him at last, her brilliant green eyes sparkling with a deep intelligence. The intensity within them threatening to envelope the dreamer.
"The only question you need ask lies within yourself." She said
"What is my name?" The Dreamer asked aloud, unable to break the girl's gaze. She was silent, the soft smile turning into a knowing one.
The dream changed around him, images, faces, places, all swirled. An office on board the great capital of the known galaxy, the Citadel. He recognized the room, it was an office in the building that housed the station's law enforcement. Citadel Security, often called C-Sec. This was his office. The name plate on the desk was blurred, and the Dreamer pushed forward, using strength of will to spur him. He had to hurry, already the dream was changing back to the hellish planet from before. At last he could read it, and with a surge of triumph he read it aloud.
As the last syllable faded into the nothingness around him, the voice of the red haired girl echoed in his mind.
"Nice work, Mr. Vincent Valentine."
The Klausian moved quickly through the shadows of Zakera Ward, his movements rendered silent by centuries of training and experience, his mind focused on the task for the night. His systematic elimination of guard units surrounding the Blue Suns warehouse was nearly complete, a few more and the operation could begin in earnest. Another merc fell, the killing blow was like the others, as quiet and methodical as it was lethal. A blade flashing in the night as it claimed a life. The rustle of his long black trench coat the only noise made. The Klausian's internal clock measured every second that passed, it was only a matter of time before the Blue Suns captain realized her guards weren't reporting in. If his timing was right, and it always was, the second she realized this would be just a few before she died.
Two Turians stood facing each other at the warehouse's rear loading dock, engaged in conversation as they smoked, their assault rifles gripped loosely in their hands. Over a hundred yards of well lit open ground lay between the Turians and the catwalk the Klausian was now perched on. The sword was sheathed, and a silenced sniper rifle was brought up to the Klausian's one good eye. Two quiet thunking noises sounded in the dim light, the two bullets fired so close together the sounds were indistinguishable from one another. Both Turians fell, a hole at the base of each of their skulls.
Movement down the alleyway to his far left caught the Klausian's attention, and he was just able to catch himself before he fired. Six times. He could have killed the human woman following him a total of six times over by now if he had had a mind to. She was fast, and she was skilled, but she knew not with whom she was dealing with. A century or so ago and she might have taken him to task, now though she was testing only his patience. He would never kill someone he was not fully convinced deserved to die, but the honed instincts of a Klausian warrior were a difficult thing to hold back, especially in the middle of an operation where he had already felled nearly a dozen people.
The Klausian willed his mind to clear itself of stray thoughts, years of practice making the exercise an easy one. Raising the rifle once more, the Klausian fired eight shots from the silenced rifle, each one shattering a light source along the open ground leading to the warehouse door. With the ninth shot the control panel to the left of the entrance was destroyed, releasing the lock that held it in place. Setting the rifle aside to be retrieved later, the Klausian was already half way across the open ground by the time the building's security system had registered the hit and activated the alarm.
Shelia of the Blue Suns inspected the product closely before sampling just a little. Across from her in the dim warehouse a human in a dark suit fidgeted nervously. The Asari allowed herself a little smile as she felt it hit her. It was red sand alright, and pretty potent too. The crates of weapons would need to be inspected, but the other mercs could do that for her. She generally didn't attend these kinds of exchanges, her paranoia about C-Sec and other agencies trying to bring her in, as well as the mafia lords looking to get rid of the competition, was intense. But between the red sand and the shipment of guns the Blue Suns had nearly ten million credits invested in this exchange, that amount of cash meant a personal appearance was almost mandatory.
"It's good, start getting this stuff loaded, it needs to be on the streets in an hour." Moving quickly to fulfill her orders, the ten or so Blue Suns mercs that had accompanied her began crawling over the containers. She turned and moved elegantly towards the still fidgeting human in the suit. She felt his eyes lock onto her body as she approached. Men in general were so predictable, but humans even more so. Even through her thick blue and white armor the human was all but drooling over her figure. She gave him an evil smile, suppressing her first impulse to put a hole in his head right then and there. Their contact in the Terminus systems wouldn't much appreciate her sending a dead accountant back to him. Instead she summoned her biotics, a faint blue haze appearing around her as she did so, and with a not too delicate push, dumped the scrawny human on his ass. She kept moving past as the human tried to collect himself. As the mercs began unloading the guns and drugs, she moved to stand next to the only other Asari in the room, her second in command for many years and a former Asari commando like herself by the name of Rajeh. She and Rajeh were unique in the organization. Most Asari joined Eclipse if they felt the need to become a merc, but the Blue Suns had been a better fit, here she wasn't just one Asari among many, no she was a valued asset, and that meant her rise to captaincy was a matter of course.
"The other patrols have stopped reporting in." Rajeh whispered to her as she drew close, the permanent look of paranoid concern on the Asari's face was something Shelia was used to.
"Even if we do have a rat scurrying about, there's no way that he could take out all our patrols. Its probably just a jammer, and if the mafia thinks they can send their thugs in against trained mercs, I'd love to see them try." Shelia replied, dismissing her worry with a wave of her hand.
"And if its C-Sec?" Rajeh countered, looking her in the eye.
"We have half a dozen officers on the payroll, with strict orders to message me personally if a raid seems even remotely possible. You really need to relax, Raj."
Rajeh sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "Sorry Shel, but I've got a bad feeling about this one, we need to get this shit loaded and get the hell out of here."
Shelia was turning back towards the containers, a response already prepared, when sudden movement, and a faint clink noise, drew her attention. Her eyes focused on a small object moving almost lazily towards a crate of assault rifles. She tensed as she realized what it was, and opened her mouth to yell a warning when the small fragmentation grenade exploded, igniting the clips inside the crate as along with it. Fire whooshed through the warehouse, and debris pelted the Asari as she was thrown against the wall by the force of the blast. Coughing heavily she pulled the pistol she carried at the small of her back, trying to see through the flames and gathering smoke.
"Dammit!" She swore as she picked herself up. How could someone have gotten this close? She cast her gaze around, trying to determine how many had been felled by the initial blast.
One of her mercs, a human, was picking himself up off the floor when a figure appeared from the haze. It was a tall humanoid carrying a sword like the Asari justicars used to carry a dozen or so millennia ago, long and thin, with only one edge. The man himself wore a long black trench coat that waved behind him, and across his chest was what looked like a black vest of armor, thick enough to provide protection but light enough to allow ease of movement. But his most distinguishing mark was the black eye patch covering his left eye. The human didn't stand a chance, the sword raked his chest, shredding the thick Blue Suns armor with apparent ease, and disemboweling the man.
"KILL HIM!" Shelia heard herself shriek, and with a sudden blue light that rivaled that of the growing fires, she launched a vicious mass effect field at the figure. The one eyed Klausian Specter… the man the merc bands and the underworld called old one eye… how in the name of the Goddess had he done this to her?
The figure dodged nimbly aside, flipping himself backwards to avoid the mass effect field that had enough force to throw a Krogan through the wall, and stood upright on one of the undamaged containers. With a fluid motion the sword was sheathed at his back, and from his hip he drew two weapons, a heavy pistol with a long silencer, and what looked to be an archaic shotgun, but one with most of its stock and barrels missing. The figure aimed the pistol with his good eye, taking out two more of her mercs. A Turian with a shotgun of his own ran towards him firing, but the Klausian didn't even turn to aim, he merely leveled the doubled barreled weapon in his other hand and fired, both shells taking the Turian in the chest.
Rajeh screamed an Asari battle cry, firing her assault fire full auto at the Klausian. But he stepped backwards, ducking behind the crate he had been standing on as bullets filled the air he had once stood in. Shelia fired as well, her rage causing her biotics to swell around her without her calling them. A Batarian, trying his best limp away, took a shotgun blast to the side of the head, pitching forward as the impact tore him apart. They were the only two left now, whether the others had been killed in the explosion or just plain ran it was hard to say. Her battle cry joined Rajeh's as the two Asari continued to fire, peppering the crumbling container with gunfire. Another grenade flew toward them, and it went off in mid air, showering the two mercs with shrapnel. Shelia covered her face with her forearm, continuing to fire blindly at the crate, not realizing the grenade was a distraction. She turned just as she saw the figure steal up on Rajeh from the side, put the barrel of the pistol against her temple, and pull the trigger.
The dead Asari crumpled, purple blood flowing from the head wound. Shelia let loose a scream of rage and sadness, throwing everything she had into another mass effect blast. This time the field was too big and the Klausian too close, and Shelia laughed as the blue mass struck its target. The Klausian crouched, taking the powerful mass effect field squarely on the shoulder, the resulting impact pushed the Klausian back a total of six inches before it dissipated. Shelia's laugh of victory turned into a choked cry of disbelief. She snapped the pistol up and fired, but the Klausian kept coming, and before she could fire again, had slid the tip of his blade through her chest. Shelia looked down at the blade, disbelieving. It had happened to fast. The end had come so swiftly she couldn't comprehend it. Her head rose to face her killer. All she could see of him through the growing darkness at the edges of her vision was a single eye through the smoke, burning with an intensity the dwarfed the fires in the room. Shelia gave one last gasp, shuddered, and died on the sword of the Klausian. The blade withdrew, and the Klausian stood over his fallen enemy.
At last the warehouses automated fire suppression was able to corral the flames, and the fire, like so many others in the last minute or so, perished.
The Klausian stood there a moment, his breathing neutral, the sword in one hand the suppressed pistol still in the other, the shotgun having returned to the makeshift holster on his hip.
From the corner of the room, the human accountant tried to make a break for it. It was the last mistake of his life. He hadn't gotten two steps when a bullet from the suppressed pistol took him just below the left ear, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
The Klausian walked over at a casual pace, sheathing his sword and returning the pistol to the holster at the small of his back. When he reached the man he turned him over with the toe of his boot, then crouched to retrieve the credit chit from the man's jacket pocket, as well as the man's datapad. The Klausian would have begun reading the files then and there, but his sharp ears had already began to hear sirens in the distance. Specter or no, facing even limited questioning and detainment by C-Sec was unappealing. With one last scan of the warehouse to ensure nothing important had been missed, the Klausian departed, melding into the shadows of Zakera Ward once again.
The Cerberus agent, tired and out of breath, leaned heavily against the wall of the now quiet warehouse. It had taken all her speed and skill just to follow him this far, and he still had managed to take out the entire facility before she had even arrived. Still breathing heavily, she peeked through a side window, surveying the gore inside. Brutal, but efficient. Maybe he was as good as the Illusive man seemed to think. Of course she was fairly certain he hadn't seen her yet, but he was nevertheless almost impossible to tail. She stood there for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath, then departed at a sprint. She couldn't let him get away now, finding him had cost her a great deal of time, effort, and resources, she couldn't give up now.
She was still moving at a sprint, desperately searching for some sign of his movements, when a soft sound down a side alleyway caught her attention. Changing directions quickly, she moved swiftly down the alley, ultimately slowing and then stopping as it turned into a dead end. She swore softly as she stood staring at the stark wall. Had he pulled another of his acrobatic tricks? Somehow getting up and over the wall? Or had she just been hearing things. Swearing a second time, she turned, only to freeze where she stood. The long black barrel of a silenced pistol was now mere inches from her face. And behind that, one grim eye staring her down.
Still breathing a little heavy, she slowly raised her hands, dead set on not doing anything to provoke him. They stood there for a moment, and at last he spoke.
"Before I kill you, I would know your name."
Determined not to be intimidated, she held his gaze. "My name is Jill, and I'm here to recruit you."