"Poetry can solve a lot of problems, not the least of which being the screams of whichever idiot you may happen to be mauling at the time."
Renar|Bob
It wasn't having the new best friend that shook Renar so badly. In point of fact, he generally enjoyed having new friends. It wasn't as though he got the opportunity very often. He tended to speak softly and carry a big rock (was that the right phrase?), and most people avoided him. Especially other turians. Always the turians.
No, what really bothered him was how very strange this man was. Aside from the fact that Renar might never get over the blue glowing augmentations visible in his face, his entire manner was simply odd. While this Crazz had proven himself capable in a fight, he seemed like he'd rather be back in the bar. Like this was a necessary distraction. Something he had to do.
Renar had always heard stories of warrior-poets...soldiers who sought to fight for life rather than fortune. Softer souls, who could see the beauty in anything, but would go to war if they had to. He felt like he'd met one in person, somehow, but...it was nothing like he'd expected.
And once again, he found himself walking without really knowing where he was going. This time though, instead of following his feet, he was following some sort of poetic demi-husk abomination. By way of association, Renar swore he'd never drink again.
"Who is this Gadschalk you're looking for?" Renar asked. He was genuinely curious, and felt he may as well pass the time.
"Professor R. C. Gadschalk is the scum of several earths." Bob explained. His hood had been pulled up when they left, but apparently his haunting eyes were still visible, because he spooked a passing salarian merely by looking at him. "He runs a few illicit substance producers both on the Citadel and in the Traverse. But he's involved in everything classified as a crime in some way or another. Arson, murder, jaywalking - you name it, he's done it or has people doing it. They say he's impossible to find personally."
"Not to you, obviously."
"I just know a little more than the average man." Bob said noncommittally.
"Why did you go after that salarian?"
Bob shrugged. "Because I knew him. The people I used to work for tracked out a few likely areas and people, and now I have another piece of the puzzle."
"So...we're going to look for more clues?"
"Yes. Aysim back there is just a thug, but I'll believe that he knows someone who knows someone. If they're involved, I know where to look for more information."
"That reminds me..." He stopped and pulled his omni-tool, then cleared his throat. "Hello? Hello! There's been a fight...some salarian just went berserk and attacked someone! The Lower Wards, near Chora's. Please, hurry!"
"What...was that?" Renar asked, bewildered.
"C-Sec." Bob explained. "I dusted my gloves with red sand before I went in there, so any cursory investigation is going to result in Aysim's being jailed." They continued walking until Renar built up the courage to continue with his questions.
"You...mentioned who you used to work for?" Renar said hesitantly.
"Yes." Bob didn't seem particularly disconcerted by the inquiry. "Up until a few days ago, Cerberus had my leash. Hah. If you know your mythology, that's fairly ironic."
Renar stopped dead. Involuntarily, his hands clenched. His talons started to dig into his skin. "Cerberus?"
Bob spun on a heel. "You did ask." He pointed out. "Maybe you forgot the past tense? I couldn't stand them any longer, so I quit. Now I'm cleaning up their messes. I don't know much, but what I do, I'll use. And since I feel we'd both like to see Gadschalk, am I wrong to assume that we've got the same interests?"
"Point taken." Renar acquiesced softly. "But I'll be watching you."
He could swear that Bob's smile under that hood was audible. "You weren't before? For shame."
It was a relatively short trip to the markets, and no one bothered them en route. That being the case, Renar still couldn't shake the thought that he was being watched. Then again, maybe that was just Bob.
The Bob in question made for one open stall in particular. The salarian businessman behind it looked almost terminally cheerful. So much so in fact that he wasn't fazed in the least when Bob lowered his hood. But Crazz kept it cordial, for some reason.
"Ah, welcome to Morlan's famous shop! You want many good supplies, yes?"
"'Fraid not, my friend. Though I could use some information." Bob passed a credit chit forward. "Do you know where I can find one of Gadschalk's closer contacts?"
Morlan nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course! One of them patrols Flux around this time. Batarian, red shirt, terrible disposition."
"All right, thanks." Bob started to move off.
"Wait." Renar held his hands up. "That...is that all?"
Bob raised his eyebrows. Or, the lights over his eyebrow muscles where his eyebrows used to be. "Well, yes. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Shouldn't there be more cloak and dagger? Threatening, denial, a long conversation?" Renar asked confusedly. "He's a criminal."
Morlan and Bob exchanged looks of surprise. "Well I don't particularly want to threaten him." Bob said. "Do you want to be threatened, Morlan?"
Morlan shook his head. "That doesn't sound like a deal worth taking."
"That, and he's not a criminal, he just stores messages. Come on, kid." Bob waved him to follow. "Trust me, I have enough difficulties in my life. I don't really need to actively make more enemies. Do you?"
Renar felt vaguely annoyed that Crazz had made that point, but by the same credit couldn't think of a confrontational response that wasn't foolish. He contented himself with what came naturally; falling into step.
Flux was, on the whole, a much gentler establishment than Chora's Den. It was larger, for one thing. The music wasn't as aggressive. And Renar didn't feel like everyone was waiting to shoot him. Bob saw their target first - a batarian in red, just as described. They took seats on either side of him.
Apparently, he had better-than-average senses, because he immediately started to get up. Bob grabbed his shoulder tightly and forced him back down. "Really?" He asked. "We haven't even started talking yet and you already want to leave?"
"Who the hell are you?" The batarian growled. "And what do you want?"
"I think I can answer all of your questions with 'Gadschalk'." Bob said.
Renar had known that mammalian races had visible pigmentation responses caused by changes in blood flow during a fight or flight response, but he'd never really seen the reaction up close. On a batarian with brown skin, turning ship hallway white was comical.
"L-look, I don't..."
Bob adjusted his grip to wrap his arm around the batarian and grasp his other shoulder. From the outside, it looked like casual contact between drinking buddies. But Crazz placed his right fist over his prisoner's lower back hip. "You know," He whispered. "The tension in an omni-blade can sever steel from drawing if the edge is coated in plasma."
It didn't seem possible for the batarian to look even more frightened, but he did. "Y-you can't do that. This place is filled with witnesses."
"And I can disappear like runoff into a stream before your halves fall out of this seat." Bob shrugged. "It's fairly simple. We just need his contacts."
"What makes you think I know that?" The batarian hissed.
"You don't." Bob said. "But you can lead us on a line. The food chain has a lot of links, but you can find a shark even if you start with plankton."
The batarian stared blankly. "You can do what if you find what and what?"
"Interplanetary barriers. Go figure." Bob sighed. "My point is, help us help you."
"You think I'm stupid?" The batarian growled. "I'm not suicidal."
"Then you shouldn't have taken this job." Renar pointed out.
"It seems to me like your issue is immediacy." Bob told him. "Whether you'd like to pay now or later. If you choose later, you might not have to pay at all. Your only real problem here is being...mm...what's the word?"
"An ass?" Renar supplied.
Bob nodded. "Exactly. This is your best option. If we fail, you can play it off, say we tortured you or something like that. Technically, you win either way. Remind me why you're stalling?"
"Gragh." The batarian grumbled. "Fine. If it'll get you to stop bothering me. I don't know the higher-ups, but I do know a weapons contractor. Black market. One of 'Schalk's top lieutenants."
"Where do we find him?" Renar asked.
"Alley twenty-four, tonight. They're helping some independents prepare for a drug bust. C-Sec's expecting routine. Hmph."
"Looks like two sparrows get to die, then." Bob said. "Come on, kid. Adventure doesn't wait for any man."
"Wait..." The batarian asked once they'd gotten up. "What's to stop me from warning Gadschalk about you?"
Bob smiled softly underneath his hood. "Well if he finds out about us, we'll know who to come to. Enjoy that though. And your drink."
He didn't see the hallucinogen that Bob had slipped into said drink. It only took a quick call to the local mental institution from the bartender to solve that problem.
Finding alley twenty-four wasn't difficult. Or time consuming, really. It was on the common database. But it was quite a hike, and they couldn't risk taking a transport shuttle too close. Fortunately, this gave them time to think. Unfortunately, it also gave them time to talk.
"I have some more questions for you." Renar said.
Bob resisted the urge to sigh. "Well I'm no Avina, but I can probably answer one or two."
"What does Gadschalk want with me?"
"You've probably already figured that one out. But I'll humor you with the full story even though it's just a theory. Aysim, back in Chora's Den, he called you by your surname. Bavarian or something?" Renar stiffened. "My guess is, you're connected to someone powerful. And, well, sometimes Gadschalk can't resist a kidnap if it's so easy."
"And did you know?"
Bob shook his head. "About you? No. But I'd been following him discreetly. To see if something would happen. Luckily he didn't recognize me without my shiny, noticeable armor of terror. And something did happen."
"To my chagrin." Renar noted.
Bob chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. You'll be safer when the night is over. Ask that our way be long, at many a summer dawn to enter."
Renar fixed him with a sidelong glance. His tone had shifted. Subtly, but it was there. "That last...was that a poem, like the one near Chora's Den?"
Bob nodded. "You know more than I thought. Ithaca, by Cavafy."
"What's it about?"
Bob grinned crookedly at him. "Well, there are a lot of ways to interpret poetry. For me, it says a lot about the journey. To set out for what you see, not what you find. Goals are well and good, but if you rush? Well, you might've stayed at home."
"I could swear there's another human version of that." Renar said, pensive.
"Well, 'stop and smell the roses' is more laconic. But it lacks that certain" Bob waved his hand. "...elegance. Any other questions?"
"Who are you, Bob?"
Bob sighed again. "You love asking complicated questions, don't you? No, don't answer. I could tell you a lot of things. I could spin a story, maybe, or bore you to tears. But the truth...that might be a little much. For now, anyways. Who do you think I am, Mr. Bavarian?"
"I..." Renar didn't quite know how to respond to that. He thought back to everything he knew about this strange ex-Cerberus hunter. Feeling quite foolish in the case that he was wrong, he began to voice his train of thought. "The way you talk about the journey...it's like you spend a lot of time on it. You're here because it's a part of your old life. Maybe the only thing you can think of doing. You say you don't like to unnecessarily get into trouble, but you're taking on one of the worst criminals in the Citadel, supposedly. You have a pleasant conversation one minute, and threaten the next."
Bob nodded slowly, as if thinking himself. "And?"
"So...I think you're lost, Bob. In a lot of ways. You wander because you feel like it's what you do, but not being told to do anything is...new. You don't really have an agenda."
"Think I'm rigid, hm?"
"It's easier for a drone to see another drone trying too hard to be a free spirit." Renar stopped himself there; he felt as though he'd gone too far. And this was a very slippery slope to be on.
"Well, that's...interesting." Crazz's face had been once again obscured by the hood, but he didn't sound particularly like he wanted to start ripping Renar's plates off. Yet. "I don't think I've heard that one before."
"Am I right?" Damn it, Renar told himself. Shut up already.
"Ah, look, Lady Luck and Arl Avoidance are smiling at me." Bob pointed forward. A group of people appeared to be having a quiet conversation, surrounded by suspicious boxes. Renar checked his omni-tool and, sure enough, alley twenty-four was dead ahead. "Let's go say hello."
Renar kept at least partly to the shadows, but Bob didn't seem all that concerned with blithely strolling into their illegal negotiations. Then again, someone who could dodge bullets didn't have cause to be afraid of much. Almost immediately, all conversation stopped, and everyone stared at the hooded man. Several weapons we gripped tightly, waiting for a hostile move to be made.
"Who the hell are you?" One of them asked.
Bob's response was to lower his hood. Every last one of them stepped back. Renar even thought he could hear one whimper pathetically. "Hello, everyone." Bob paid most of his attention to the group on the right - rather than crates, they had patchwork armor and only a few pistols, but one of them was clutching a credit chit tightly. The buyers, he assumed. "I think it's a lovely day to be somewhere else, don't you?"
"F-fuck off!" One of the buyers fired his pistol at Bob. He casually leaned just enough out of the way that the shot missed entirely. The young human dropped the pistol and turned tail. His companions followed. All in all, the sellers appeared to be of sterner stuff. They were heavily armed, there were five of them, and they now looked annoyed rather than frightened.
"Blatantly disrespectful: Is there a reason you are scaring off our customers, human?" Their leader, an elcor, oddly enough, asked. One of his goons muttered 'that thing ain't human', but went unnoticed.
"I'll be out of your...well, none of you have hair, so, scalps! In a moment." Bob said cheerfully. "Right now, I'm looking for Gadschalk."
Deafening silence.
"Condescending:" The elcor recovered first. "You are both stupid and, soon, dead."
His minions drew and fired, but Bob was faster by far. He ducked down and forward, reaching into his trenchcoat and pulling out two pistols. His feet shifted on the ground. Both muzzles flashed as he kneecapped two turians to either side. One of them fell forward not entirely of his own violition, taking a full blast to the head from one of his compatriots. The other collapsed with a howl. He didn't realize until too late that something was wrong; his mouth opened just wide enough for him to stumble onto swallowing the barrel of his own weapon, which Bob had snapped upright in the same movement.
Bob tossed one pistol into the air and wrapped a single finger around the trigger. More brain matter collected on the floor. One of his legs lashed out and tripped the salarian who was still firing wildly at him. The shots went wide and he cracked his skull on the ground. Bob completed his spin, still crouched, and pressed his second pistol against the stunned criminal's temple.
One left.
But the one had a shotgun, and was already taking aim. Renar was trying to piece together why Crazz would let himself get into such a vulnerable position.
Wait...he's waiting on me.
Shit!
He did the first thing that came to him naturally - eliminate. His hand reached out and thrust upward. His target followed the movement, rising ten meters before slamming back down with enough force to dent steel.
"...Huh." Bob eyed the broken form dispassionately. "I thought you'd just shoot him."
The elcor, now that he was covered in the blood and chunks of his former compatriots, was strangely much more cooperative. "Terrified: Do not kill me, I will give you whatever you want." It was morbidly amusing to hear someone that couldn't manage anything except monotone begging for their life. It sounded like he couldn't care less.
"You know what I want." Bob said simply. "Take me to Gadschalk."
"Confused: That is not possible."
"Why not?" Renar asked. "Aren't you his lieutenant?"
"Annoyed:" The elcor corrected. "I work for his lieutenant."
"Well, we certainly have a lot of trails." Bob remarked.
"Where is the lieutenant?" Renar narrowed his eyes for emphasis.
"Nervously: Citadel Security headquarters." He told them.
"He's arrested?" Bob mused. "Well, that makes our job easier..."
"Shortly:" The elcor amended. "He is not there as a felon, that is his side job."
"You work criminal operations for a dirty cop?!" Renar asked, incensed.
"Which one?" Bob inquired, apathetic.
"Reluctantly: Jelanis. War-" He was cut off by a quick jab to the face from Bob.
Awkwardness ensued when the elcor didn't keel over.
Fortunately, his shock lasted long enough for another fist to connect. But it still didn't put him down.
Bob put his hands on his hips. "Now you're just being difficult."
The elcor grunted and surged forward, attempting to headbutt Crazz before he could land any more hits. But he was slow and clumsy, and a well-placed shot with a good kick sent him flat on his face. He didn't stir again.
"I was going to say something vaguely impressive, but what would be the point?" Bob sighed. "Come on, it looks like we have even more work to do."
"Remind me again why you can't help?"
Renar and Bob, after having found the nearest transport shuttle to the alley, had made immediately for C-Sec headquarters in the Presidium. It was unlikely that whoever this Jelanis was had been alerted yet, but they still preferred to be on their guard. Which was why Renar was so confused as to why Bob adamantly refused to back him up.
"Really?" Bob moved his hands in circles around his face. "You think I'm that inconspicuous? Look, just find a way to get him out of the offices. I'll be tracking you for help at a moment's notice, you'll be fine."
"All right, all right." Renar conceded. "What should I do about the elcor?"
"I already called in an anonymous tip." Bob assured him. "The situation won't look good for them. Or him, if anyone makes a connection."
"Maybe I can just bribe him." Renar growled.
"Mm, you don't look criminal enough for him to believe that." Bob clapped him on the shoulder. "Walk softly."
He faded into a nearby corner, leaving Renar alone. Still mentally reciting prophecies of doom, he slipped into the main elevator. It slowly descended into C-Sec's atrium, as it was. Various officers milled around, whether bringing in suspects, hanging about with nothing to do, or in a hurry to file some paperwork. Despite the apparent chaos, Renar noticed that all of it had a general underlying conformity to it. Like a program running random strings from a predictable algorithm.
Did I just use a technical analogy? Renar wondered dully. Spirits, I need help.
The doors slid open, and he stepped out. He suddenly felt very foolish and conspicuous, but no one seemed to notice. He got an odd look from a nearby krogan officer, but other than that, his only real problem was that he was lost. An elevator lead up to a dock, and a few exits behind and around that lead to offices and the supply room. That he knew.
What he didn't know was what he was supposed to look for or how to go about it. He almost began to wish he could ask someone for...
"Excuse me..." He began, stepping up to the krogan.
"Yeah, something I can do for you, uh...citizen?" The officer arched an eyeridge.
Still feeling like an idiot, Renar decided that asking couldn't make him feel worse. "Does an officer Jelanis work here?"
The krogan nodded. "Madak Jelanis, that's me."
Scratch that. It could definitely make him feel worse. "Well, good. I'd like to...report a crime." He imagined his fringe was lighting up like a mass relay.
Jelanis frowned. "You want to report a crime...to me, specifically?"
Renar's mind raced with all of the things he could say to get him out of suspicion. Punching the criminal out now looked appealing. But somehow he didn't think he could explain himself out of it afterwards. "Yes. That is, it's just a little something I need...taken care of."
Jelanis' frown turned into a scowl, and Renar prayed his ploy had worked.
"And what makes you think I'd know anything about that?" He asked. "I should report you."
"I don't think out mutual friends would like that." It was a little hasty, but Renar would rather look like someone new than a mole. It was all he could do to keep his calm anyway. "Think of it as an opportunity from our...employer."
Jelanis grunted. "Humor me, then. Who is this employer?"
"Say his name, here?" Renar countered. "I'm not as dumb as you think."
The krogan visibly relaxed, if slightly. "That remains to be seen. Come with me."
Jelanis waved Renar for emphasis and pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against. They passed a few officers and eventually clambered into the elevator that lead to the lower wards.
The instant the doors closed, Jelanis started talking. "You idiot. Contacting me inside C-Sec? Don't they teach you rookies anything?"
"Not every situation allows for subtlety." Renar told him. "I had to find you right away."
"Don't get smart with me." Jelanis warned. "Nothing's important enough to risk blowing my cover."
There was a moment of silence in which the elevator ascended and Jelanis glowered.
Finally, he muttered, "What did you want, anyways?"
"That's easy, 'officer'." Renar said, voice heavy with irony. He would have finished with a line of questioning, but their door opened. There stood Bob, pistols already drawn. He aimed both of them at Jelanis' head.
Renar wanted dearly to know how Bob had gotten to this area so quickly, but that question could wait. He ducked under the arm Jelanis threw out to clothesline him into submission and rolled to the side as much as the elevator allowed. He didn't relish the thought of being stuck in close quarters with a krogan, especially if he decided to get hit enough to blood rage.
Bob opened fire, splattering the wall at the far end of their transportation with orange blood. As typical for his species, Jelanis was unfazed. He was also, unfortunately, armed. He drew a shotgun and opened fire. Even Bob couldn't dodge so many shots at once, so he dropped prone. Jelanis made the mistake of charging, so Bob merely pushed himself forward and between the krogan's legs.
Renar threw a shockwave forward, assisting his opponent's propulsion. Between his own momentum and getting hit in the back with biotic force, there was nothing he could do to avoid being thrown flat on his face. A carefully-placed shot from Bob blew the shotgun out of range of an easy pickup.
Jelanis rolled over and activated him omni-tool. A ball of fire raced from its tip and struck Bob as he was turning around. It began to singe his trenchcoat, so he removed it, hood and all. Renar realized that he hadn't actually seen what was underneath, but now knew what Bob meant by 'shiny, noticeable armor of terror'. It looked like a suit of repurposed Cerberus light plate, the colors faded somewhat and adjusted with blue runes on the sides and arms. The symbol of the organization had been painted over with black and red paint in the form of a flaming bird of some kind.
Bob looked at the downed krogan, and Jelanis hesitated. That gave him just enough time to step forward and warp the air around him with a biotic field. Eezo shot away from him and propelled itself forward, hitting Jelanis like a battering ram. His hand connected next, and when momentum settled itself down, he had that hand wrapped around the krogan's throat, pinning him to a wall.
Jelanis growled and headbutted him. It didn't seem to faze Crazz much, but that was just the warmup. An omni-blade buried itself deep into Bob's side, loosening his grip. The krogan headbutted him again, driving him to the ground. Then he charged Renar, disrupting the concentration required for another biotic strike with a well-placed punch. It hurt, too; Renar felt like his faceplates had been broken off.
Based on his expression, Renar hazarded a guess that the krogan was quite enjoying this. He thought a racist comment (saying it aloud would have wasted breath) and rolled to the side to avoid being impaled by an orange blade. His danger came from an unwillingness in Jelanis to pull any punches despite how much fun he was having. Renar would have to move quickly.
He continued rolling, but stopped suddenly. His head moved forward a bit more than his body, and he became aware of someone gripping the back of his outfit. Struggling like prey in a trap, he pushed himself off the ground with a hand and threw a bolt of biotic force into the impact point. It tore him out of Jelanis' grip and allowed him to dodge the follow-up omni-blade strike. But it also caused him to crash ungracefully a few meters away.
He felt more than heard the quickly approaching footsteps. A foot held him in place before he could move again, and he felt his spine bend. He just had to hope that he could wiggle enough to avoid losing a major organ. He braced himself for the stab...
He turned his head to see above him. The blade was already in motion. But something knocked it off-course, and it dug into the ground next to his head. He only heard the gunshot afterwards. Then he felt hot orange blood splatter over the side of his face. And a slam as the body of a krogan hit the ground next to him.
Renar took a moment to catch his breath. He'd just come absurdly close to death, only to be saved by...what? He turned around; Bob was still lying down a ways away. He caught a glimpse of someone running in the platform above him, but then they disappeared. It might have been anyone. Check that, He thought, examining the hole through Jelanis' brain. Anyone very skilled.
His heart skipped a beat - Bob. He'd forgotten about the human, but that wound hadn't looked good. He moved (well, limped) to his side and checked for a pulse. A hand grabbed his wrist and used it as leverage. Bob pulled himself up slowly, but with surety.
Renar exhaled. "I thought maybe your journey was over."
"Plenty left to go." Bob assured him. "I can't exactly say it tickled, but..." He saw Jelanis, and growled. "Damn it all. He was our only lead."
"I don't know who killed him." Renar said semi-defensively. "Do you have any better ideas?"
"No." Bob slumped a bit.
"Then why did you confront him?"
Bob waved his hand at the lower level they were in. "If I hadn't he would have tried to kill you. This is his murdering ground. Bodies of potential rats have been popping up here for a while. Caused me no small amount of consternation."
"Oh." Renar was starting to wish he'd stop getting into situations in which feeling like a moron was remotely possible. "Well...what now?"
"I don't know." Bob sighed. "More time...a lot more time. Maybe I'll find something, maybe I won't. It's not like I have anything else to do."
An idea formed in Renar's mind. He didn't necessarily like it, but it was worth a try. "Come with me."
"What?"
"The ship I serve on...we handle things like this. Crises. If finding Gadschalk is infeasible, find someone else. You don't have to stay along this one road, Bob. You don't have to be lost."
Bob raised his eyebrows. Eyebrow muscles. Whatever. "You could be a poet yourself, some day. Giving up Gadschalk...maybe. Maybe. Show me this ship, kid. We'll see."
"Wow." Davisson commented. "Not bad for one outing."
Renar nodded. He'd left out Bob's affiliations in the retelling - he'd tell them about it when he wanted to - but the rest was free game. The other two didn't seem to have any ideas. Based on what they'd said, they had problems of their own. He was about to offer up some ideas when, for the third time, the elevator door opened.
It was the salarian doctor, Solus, and his krogan friend. He'd come off his fight with a bit of an adversity for krogan, but this one was wearing a flowery wide-brimmed hat. Solus himself had a fancy black suit.
"Not a word." Deshayla growled.
"Screw that." Davisson said. "Spill it!"