2. Serial Thriller
Detective Chellick of C-Sec stood over what was left of the corpse that had been found in a dimly lit maintenance access tunnel. The body was the third known victim of the serial killer dubbed The Citadel Slasher by the C-Sec newsnets. Nobody knew who the killer or was or even what species it was. Predictably, the press was having a field day with all the sensationalist speculation on the motives of the killer. There was quite the betting pool back at HQ over the species of the killer. Privately, Chellick believed it was a human. They had a real knack for senseless butchery. The first victim had been found by an unfortunate janitor. Well, the janitor had found the head. Last Chellick had heard, the poor guy was still undergoing therapy. Whoever the killer was, he/she/it didn't just stop at simply whacking a person. No, he - Chellick referred to the killer by the male pronoun because writing he/she/it in his reports was doing his fingers in - went much further than that. Bits and pieces of bodies had been turning up for weeks all over the place. In the ladies room of Chora's den. Shoved down the return chute of the library. And even hanging from the Mass Relay monument. The guy had a nerve, Chellick had to admit.
As his people established a crime-scene perimeter and began analysing the body, that annoying reporter Emily Wong arrived. "Detective Chellick, is this the work of the same killer or do you believe a copycat is at work?" she asked.
"No comment," Chellick said and pushed past her. She followed rapidly.
"Do you have any leads as to the identity of the killer?" she persisted.
Chellick stopped, turned around and glared down at the smaller human. "What part of 'no comment' do you not understand, Ms Wong?"
"Detective, the people of the Citadel have a right to know what's going on," she said as he turned away again.
"Then I suggest you let us do our jobs and go find a cat up a tree to report on," Chellick said as he rounded a corner and disappeared.
"Do you think we can spin a story about how C-Sec don't seem to be in any great hurry to solve the case because all the victims are human?" Emily asked her long-suffering cameraman.
"Em, I'm sure they're doing all they can. Can we get out of here now? That headless, armless and legless torso is freaking me out."
Chellick slumped into his chair at HQ. His head ached. His neck ached and even his earholes ached from having to listen to that reporter's highly pitched voice. No sooner had he sat down, the comm unit in his desk chirped. Tiredly, Chellick pressed a button and the humourless features of Executor Pallin appeared in the small screen. Oh joy, another bollocking, Chellick thought.
"Another body, Chellick?" Pallin asked, without preamble.
"Yes, sir."
"And you were going to report this to me when? Do you know how much I love hearing about crime here on the station through the news rather than through my officers?"
Chellick opened his mouth to say...he didn't know what then Pallin cut in, "That was a rhetorical question, Detective. You better start making some inroads on this case or I'll bust you back to the traffic branch so fast it'll make your head spin!" Pallin cut the link.
"At this point, being busted back to the traffic branch would be a relief," Chellick said to himself.
"What was that sir?" his human assistant asked. Chellick hadn't even heard the girl come in.
"Gah!" he yelped and looked up, startled. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Banks!"
"Sir, with due respect, I wasn't sneaking," Officer Jennifer Banks said, miffed. It wasn't her fault the old man was going deaf and refused to wear hearing aids. Not that turians had ears to fit hearing aids into. But still.
"Is there something you need to tell me, Officer?" Chellick said as he removed a packet heavy-duty painkillers from his desk drawer. He'd bought the stuff from that hanar in the Presidium level. Super Duper Extra Strength Aspirin, it was called. Chellick shook his head. Hanar and their sales pitches.
"Sir, I've had some thoughts regarding the case," Banks said.
Chellick looked steadily at his assistant. Twenty-three standard years old and quite pretty. If you went in for humans, Chellick amended. "What kind of thoughts," he asked as he crushed up his Super Duper etc Aspirin and swallowed the dust.
"Sir, that can't possibly be good for your stomach," Banks said.
"Officer, when I want an opinion on my health from you, I'll personally pay to send you to medical school," Chellick said wearily. "What were you going to tell me?"
"I think we need outside help," Banks said and held out a holo of that woman who'd been the first human accepted into the Spectres.
"Shepard?" Chellick said incredulously. "Why don't I just turn in my badge to the Executor as well as admitting I can't do the job?"
"Sir, I believe Commander Shepard is uniquely qualified to assist us..."
"Message from the Citadel coming in, Commander," Joker informed her as Alison left the galaxy map display in the CIC. The Normandy had just cleared relay in the Noveria system after...dealing with Matriarch Benezia. Alison really wanted to console Liara over her mother's death but couldn't find the words. Something like 'sorry I bust a cap in your mum's ass' didn't quite seem to cut it. She put the thought out of her mind and said, "Thanks Joker, I'll take it in the comm room."
There were any number of ways Joker could interpret 'take it in the comm room' but he decided it'd be best for his health to just put the call through to the comm room.
Shepard settled into a seat in the comm room and assumed the look of polite interest she wore whenever she had to deal with the Council. So it was something of a surprise when Detective Chellick of C-Sec appeared on the screen.
"Commander Shepard, I believe congratulations are in order," Chellick began. Shepard blinked. Why would C-Sec contact her in the middle of deep space?
"Um, Detective, if this has anything to do with the gun battle at Chora's Den a while back, those frackers shot first," she said defensively.
"What? No, you actually did us a favour by taking out Fist. No, a matter of some importance has arisen at the Citadel and we believe you can assist us to solve the matter."
"Go on..." Alison said cautiously.
"I'll come straight to the point," Chellick began, "For several months, the Citadel has been the site of numerous slayings. So far all the victims have been human. To be perfectly honest, we have next to no leads on the killer and we've come to the conclusion that we need...help. From a Spectre. Specifically you," Chellick seemed quite pained to have to make that admission. Likely he was having his balls crushed in a vice by Executor Pallin. Probably literally.
"Oh...kay then," Shepard said, "I'm not sure how I can help. I'm not a cop."
"No but you do possess certain...qualities that we believe can help us crack this case."
Intrigued, Shepard promised Chellick she'd be on the Citadel as soon as possible to speak to him in person about the case.
"C-Sec want you to do what now?" Joker asked as Shepard stood in the bridge, hands clasped behind her back.
"Some whackjob's been carving chicks up on the Citadel and C-Sec can't figure out what's going on. So it's time for the Spectres to do what they do best."
"Pull the Citadel's ass out of the fire without even an official thanks for the assist?" Joker said as he laid in the coordinates for the Citadel Mass Relay.
"Yep, ain't life grand?" Shepard replied and smiled to herself. Really, how hard could it be?
Shepard, Alenko and Williams sat in the small briefing room as Chellick and his assistant entered. Garrus was on the ship. After his less than amicable parting from C-Sec, he decided it would be less than helpful for him to rock back into C-Sec HQ to point out that their methods were less than effective. So he asked Williams to do the job for him. Kaidan fidgeted uneasily in his seat. He hated the idea of the Commander being asked to help on this case. He tried to tell himself it was just normal concern for his CO's wellfare but couldn't quite do it.
Chellick was holding a number of what must have been case files, thought Shepard. He and his assistant sat facing the others. Chellick laid the case files on the desk beside him and said, "Commander, thank you for arriving so quickly."
Alison nodded mutely.
"So far, all of the victims have been women-" Chellick stopped as Alison raised a hand and said, "Wait, let me guess. They're all between the ages eighteen and twenty, are tall, have blonde hair, blue eyes, fake tans and fake boobs. Am I on target so far?"
Chellick blinked slowly. Kaidan felt a flush rising on his face and Ash laughed to herself.
"Well, you're right about the eyes," Chellick's assistant said. "So far they've all been between the ages of twenty-five and thirty," the way the girl was looking at her gave Shepard a very bad feeling. "Tall and slender with fair skin," the bad feeling worsened. "Long black hair and blue eyes," she finished.
Kaidan and Ash turned to stare at their thirty year old tall, slender, fair-skinned, blue eyed commander. Who ran a suddenly shaky hand through her long black hair and muttered, "Frack me sideways."
"Yes, quite," Chellick said. He seemed perversely happy with the situation.
"You mean to use the Commander as bait to draw your killer out, don't you?" Kaidan said, his voice low and dangerous.
"You're telling us that, out of all the thousands of C-Sec agents on the station, you don't have even one who fits the profile?" Ashley demanded. Shepard got up from her seat and paced back and forth in the small meeting room.
"Well, there was Officer Young..." Chellick began.
"Yeah, but she got knocked up and is on maternity leave. Kids, huh?" Officer Banks put in.
"I'll do it," Shepard said.
"What are you, nuts?" Kaidan said and shot to his feet. Everybody eyed him curiously. "Uh, I mean...I think you should reconsider. Ma'am," he finished. Shepard looked hard at Alenko, and wondered just what in the hell was coming over him. Then a little voice in her head said, 'I think he's into you. Trying to protect the woman he loves. Ain't that sweet?'
"Oh, frack me," Shepard muttered as she finally grasped the situation.
"Commander?" Williams asked.
"Williams, go with Alenko back to the ship and...I don't know, make sure it's still there."
"Um, OK," Ashley said and pulled a protesting Lieutenant along with her.
Shepard turned to Chellick, suddenly determined to nail the killer to the nearest wall herself and asked, "Where do we begin?"
Alison found herself in a small room in the asari Consort's chambers. Apparently, Chellick had enlisted the aid of one of the asari...pleasure girls to make sure that Shepard was as appealingly feminine and helpless-seeming as possible. The plan was to put Shepard into Chora's Den, where all the victims were last seen alive before turning up dead. In pieces. The idea was for Shepard to go in, alone, wearing the slinkiest black number she could fit into and make a show of getting hammered. Hopefully, if the killer was around, he'd find her impossible to resist and attempt to jump her. Chellick and his people would be in constant contact with Shepard via tiny earpieces and throat mikes. For the first time in her life, Alison wished she'd been born blonde. Or at least had dyed her hair.
Now she sat in a plushly appointed lounge area while the asari cast a critical eye over her. The asari was almost as tall as Shepard and possessed of an ethereal beauty and sensuality that would leave a man of the cloth hard pressed to resist. Too bad she was such a bitch, Alison thought. The asari eyed Shepard up and down and didn't seem to like what she saw very much. "You're the best they could come up with? Tsk," she said.
"Excuse me?" Alison said, annoyed.
"Don't worry. I've been instructed by Detective Chellick to make you, as human males would say, 'smoking hot' and I intend to do it," she said.
"Hey, I can do smoking hot without any help from you!" Alison snapped. She worked out, she looked after herself and, if she really wanted to, she could make a guy melt just by batting her eyelashes at him.
"Yes, well, your brand of 'hot' might be enough to get some drunken reprobate attempting to grope your feminine assets but we cannot afford to take any chances with this killer. Goddess forbid he tire of humans and go after asari next."
"Yeah, wouldn't that be a crying shame," Alison glared at the woman. I'd like to ram that picture perfect face of hers into a food processor and set it to mince!
"Take off your clothes," the asari said. Shepard blinked at her. First she flat out accuses her of not being good looking enough, then she wants to shag her?
"Excuse me?" Alison said.
The asari replied irritably, "We don't have time for your quaint human modesty. I need to know just what flaws I need to correct before we can send you on your way."
"Flaws? I...you..." Shepard couldn't get any words out. The asari looked at her with amusement before tapping a finger to her wrist, the universal 'hurry the hell up' gesture. Shepard sighed and undressed.
The asari looked her over, like a chef inspecting cuts of meat in a butchery and sighed heavily. "Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear,' she said over and over. The human's body was a patchwork of scars: bullet wounds, knife marks, shrapnel injuries. And don't even mention that mark on her face. And yet she appeared to be inordinately proud of it.
Shepard stood nude in front of the asari as she circled around her, inspecting every inch of her. Alison had to fight down a very strong urge to knock the bitch out. She was a soldier. Of course she carried a few scars. Finally the asari stepped in front of Shepard again and said, "I better tell Chellick that this could take a while..."
Four standard hours later, Shepard was perched on a bar stool in Chora's Den, wearing a revealing, figure hugging dress of black shimmer-weave. Her hair had been coiffed to within an each of its life and resembled a piece of modern art perched on her head. About ten different kinds of concealer and makeup had been applied to her face to disguise the knife-slash scar that ran from her left ear and along her jawline. Alison could barely move her facial muscles, such was the amount of crap rubbed into her skin. Still, the whole shebang was working. She'd been in the place less than ten minutes and already three different men had offered to buy her drinks. Since any of them could be the killer, she was forced to endure their godawful pickup lines and smile politely as they ogled her.
Eventually, as closing time approached, she sub-vocalised into the microphone dot taped to her throat, "Chellick, I'm getting the hell out of here. If your killer's here he hasn't made a move."
"OK, watch yourself coming out, he may still ambush you if you're not careful."
"He can try," Alison said grimly and got up to leave. She reminded herself to act drunk and staggered slightly. Then she laughed girlishly. "Whoops, I feel a little tipsy!"
"Just so you know, Chora's Den accepts no liability if you wake up in a stranger's bed and get pregnant. Or get killed," the bartender said.
The killer stood in the shadows at the rear of Chora's Den and observed the pretty young things as they came and went. He discarded several of them out of hand. Too old, too young, too fat, too thin, too short. But that one woman by the bar...yes, she ticked all of the right boxes. The killer smiled as she swayed drunkenly and reeled towards the exit. He moved to follow.
As Shepard headed away from Chora's along a dimly lit corridor, she knew she was being followed. She turned a corner and stepped into some conveniently placed shadows. She was unarmed but the biotic abilities care of her Vanguard training would enable her to disable whoever came after her. "Chellick, I think I've got something," she whispered.
"We're on our way. Try not to die in the next few minutes," Chellick said and clicked off.
Shepard blinked in surprise as her tail rounded the corner. It looked like an over-sized bowling ball on legs and was wearing an environment suit.
"A volus?" Alison said in utter amazement. In all honestly she'd sooner expect a hanar than a volus. They weren't well known for their martial prowess.
"What, you think us volus can't commit murder, human?" the volus replied. He was holding wickedly sharp blade in his right hand.
"Well, you gotta admit, it's kind of a shock," Alison said and slowly raised her right hand.
"Yes, it's always the ones you least suspect, isn't it?" the volus might have been smiling as he advanced on her. Shepard had to smile. The guy was about half her height and almost as wide as he was tall. "Is this the part where I scream 'please don't kill me'?"
The volus lunged forward, quicker than...something very quick and slashed the blade at Shepard's stomach. The tip of the knife sliced through the shimmer-weave and a line of blood welled out of her skin. Shepard winced. OK, now it was game on.
As the volus drew back for a second strike, Alison tensed her muscles and generated a mass effect field around her attacker. The volus yelled in surprise as he was lifted up and bumped against the ceiling. The knife fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Shepard quickly picked up the blade. She felt blood slowing oozing down her stomach and sliding along her thighs. "Great, now I gotta get cleaned up on top of everything else. You really know how to mess up a girl's plans, don't ya?"
Shepard heard running footsteps as Chellick and his people finally arrived. They rounded the corner, guns raised, just in time to witness the volus fall headfirst to the floor. A dull crack signalled something was rather amiss as the body lolled limply to one side. "Ooops," Alison said quietly as Officer Banks aimed at the volus and screamed, "Freeze!"
"I don't think he's going anywhere," Shepard said as she pressed a hand against the cut in her stomach. "Think he broke his neck when he fell."
"Great," Chellick said in irritation. He hated it when suspects died on him. It caused a mess of paperwork.