Disclaimer: Bioware owns almost all.

Chapter 21

I awoke the next morning with a clear head and easy conscience. No thoughts of confusion clouded my mind, desire no longer pulled at me, and yearning had dissipated into the ether. I felt whole once again, no longer torn in two directions. I could put Nya aside and just be Jin for so long a time until Aria called upon me. Things were once again as they should be.

I walked the alleys of Omega on my way to work, ignoring the grit and grime, the shouts of the hawkers, and the acrid scents wafting off the stands of the food vendors. Nothing had changed from the everyday organized chaos that ran rampant through the alleyways. Vermin scurried in the shadows, racing for their lives as the vagrants hunted them. The familiarity of the scene, the smells, and the general bustle were comforting. Yes, things were as they should be.

The service door creaked softly as I entered the storage room and I hung my holster and jacket on their usual peg. Grabbing a clean cloth I headed to the bar, lights flashing in my eyes and loud bass thundering in my ears. Few patrons were present, small groupings dotting the lounge. As per usual, The Lout was sitting at the bar, amber drink in hand. I approached with causal ease, a sharp witticism on my lips lest he try my patience today.

He was hunched over the counter, eyes focused on the glass before him, the glowing iridescence throwing eerie shadows across his face. I was almost hesitant to approach upon seeing his state, but curiosity got the better of me. I tossed the towel onto my shoulder and readied the bottle of bourbon.

"You look like a man in need of a refill." Not my wittiest statement, but it would do.

Hooded eyes glanced up at me and he frowned. "They know it was you."

It took me a moment to understand his words above the din of the music, and I cocked an eyebrow in innocent confusion. "What was me?"

He leaned back in his chair and shot me the full force of his glare. "That Guy's dead. They know you killed him."

I frowned and pushed down the confused panic that was threatening to arise and overwhelm me. Who was this man that he knew such things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

A humorless snort was his response.

"Guy's dead? When? How?"

He held my gaze, the heat of his stare burning into me and I met it with equal potency. "Deny all you want, but they'll be coming for you."

I feigned confusion at his words, a denial forming on the tip of my tongue, but he stood abruptly and tossed a handful of credit chits on the counter.

"I'd be on the move if I were you." And with that, he left.

I watched him exit, his back straight, but head heavy. He moved like a man ill at ease, accustomed to carrying a heavy burden. I frowned in thought, questioning his motives, his intelligence, and finally came to the conclusion that there may some truth to his words.

I activated my omni-tool and checked the security feed. No reports had been made and no alerts were active. I fidgeted irritably. Aria would have notified me of third party involvement, informed me if word had leaked. I had no doubt she already knew of my success, but the more I contemplated my predicament, the more uncomfortable I became. Aria had not contacted me for a debriefing as per usual.

I wrung the towel in my hands, attempting to ease my worry and collect my thoughts. I could continue to play the bartender until Aria contacted me. It was still early, yet. I need not make any assumptions based on such an unreliable source.

I bent down to lift a tray of glasses as a swift breeze brushed by my head and a bottle shattered suddenly behind me. I felt a sting on my cheek and the sharp trickle of blood upon my face. I was on the ground in an instant, instinct taking hold as the entire bar seemed to explode around me. Glass shattered above, drenching me in shards and expensive liquor. I remembered my set of pistols hanging safely in the service room and given the lack of cover in the lounge, the service exit was my only option.

Screams of patrons filled the air as the gunfire continued, glass sprinkling the floor as mass effect rounds pelted my previous location. I crawled along the gritty floor, my palms bleeding, my clothing slowly shredding against the glass. I ignored the pain, pushing past it to my goal. The service entrance was in sight.

A low whistle filled the air, breaking the staccato rhythm of gunfire, and I recognized the terrible sound of a missile launched. I broke cover and dove into the service area, the heat of the explosion hot on my face, singeing my hair and clothes. I stood swiftly, ignoring the aching protests of my body, and pulled my jacket from the peg, the blood from my palms streaking the fabric. The holster and my pistols were still secured within and I threw them on, wary of my surroundings.

Loaded and ready I peered carefully out the service entrance into the hall. It seemed empty and I needed to move quickly. I could not wait for safety and so dashed madly down the alley, the fires behind me spreading throughout the lounge. Alarms sounded and lights flashed, painting the alley an eerie shade of red. Aria's men would be moving into place to contain the chaos if they were not already. Given what The Lout had told me, I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. I could not wait for support. I was on my own.

I plastered my body against the wall as I came upon an intersection, unsure of my route. Blood pounded in my ears and my heart felt near bursting. Ignoring the panic threatening to rise once more, I focused on my training. I slowed my breathing and checked the readout on my pistols. Both were fully loaded as always, primed and ready to go. I activated my omni-tool, its presence oddly comforting, but before I could search out a route to the nearest landing pad, I recognized the soft echo of voices filtering down the alley.

Adrenaline surged within me and I fought to control my emotions. A quick survey of the alley resulted in a nearby access panel leading into the ventilation systems. Without a second thought I drew my blade from inside my boot and pulled the panel from its hinges. Ignoring the stale stench of vorcha, I climbed inside, quickly replacing the hatch and sabotaging the seams to lock it in place. Steeling my nerves I silently moved deeper within.

The voices drifted by, scurrying beneath the ventilation shafts. I dared not linger even though I needed to identify my attackers. Death was not an outcome I preferred and so I ignored my curiosity in favor of practicality. I'd learn eventually, but not today. Today I had a duty to survive. Vengeance is impossible when dead.

I scooted further down the shaft, avoiding the rotted pitfalls common in Omega's piping, occasionally catching unwary flesh on the jagged edges. Following the convoluted path my omni-tool displayed for me, I stayed out of sight of the majority of Omega's inhabitants. Once I caught the wary eye of a fetid vagrant hunting for his meal in the shafts, but no words were exchanged. He blinked once in surprise and immediately moved on. His concern was food, and there was none to be had with me in his hunting grounds.

I turned the last corner of the ventilation shaft, my destination in sight and blocked by an enormous breach in the paneling. I sighed irritably and flexed my hands, testing my strength. I would need to exit the shaft at some point, but I'd hoped to be closer to the landing pad than I was. As it stood, necessity and I were at an impasse. Adjusting the settings on my 'tool, I scanned the pad for life signs.

Readings indicated the presence of four individuals, each armed and humanoid. I allowed myself a slight sigh of relief at the absence of krogan. Had even one been present, I might have saved him the trouble and blown my brains out instead. As it stood, I still had a chance. Once more steadying my breathing, I concentrated on the motions of my forms, the familiar imagery of it centering my thoughts.

Composed, I moved toward the pitfall, careful to stay hidden within the shadows. Gazing down upon the scene I saw two cabs on the landing pad, a driver leaning against one, but by the tension in his pose, I recognized his relaxation for a lie. The three other individuals paced restlessly about the landing pad, the two batarians armed with SMGs while the third individual - a turian - carried what appeared to be a modified assault rifle. I swore silently and continued my visual scan.

A series of piping ran parallel along the floor then crossed over the pad as it turned to follow the walls of the alley below. Three brightly lit terminals lined the far wall, each connected to the main hub that powered this particular transit station. A wry smile spread across my face as the beginnings of a plan formed in my mind.

To my right, another terminal sat against the railing which lined the edge of the alley. Beyond was nothing but traffic, personal transports and cabs flitting to and fro amidst Omega's empty interior. At my back two alleys met, both blind until joined at the transport hub. I would find little cover there, but I dared not have the enemy at my back. I would need to be quick. I could not afford to take out the three individuals, and perhaps the cabbie, with reinforcements arriving behind me. Speed, timing, and precision would rule here today.

I observed my targets for as long as I dared, studying their movements, the grip on their weapons. They moved with practiced ease, wary and alert as if accustomed to hostility. I did not suspect military precision, mercs most likely, but none bore insignia of affiliation. It mattered not. They were trained and they expected me and adrenaline, like fire, pumped through my veins. I would make them earn their pay today.

Switching off my 'tool, I stealthily moved into position, wary of the press of my weight against the metal paneling. I braced my hands on either side of the gaping hole, ignoring the pain of my palms as the jagged edges bit deep. Activating my cloak, I slipped from the vent without a sound, landing only a few feet from the main hub. I tucked and rolled, coming up silent and within reach of the terminal. Silently I hacked into the system, counting the moments until my cloak dissipated.

The panel flashed green with approved access and I mentally swore. However, luck was on my side as none of my would-be assailants noticed. I readied my pistols and sucked in a deep breath. In the moments before my cloak dropped I took aim, the turian in my sights.

His head exploded as my cloak dissipated, the two batarians and cabbie frozen only momentarily in surprise. Shouts sounded, ragged and panicked as I ducked into cover, the report of dual SMGs ringing overhead. Blindly I punched the button on the terminal, and the whine of engines blared through the chaos as the rear cab powered up. I used the distraction and opened fire again, taking out the batarian on my right. The other dove behind the forward cab, taking cover with the driver.

We exchanged fire, tight controlled bursts that echoed down the alleys and grew deafening in intensity. I was running out of time and ammo and ignored the frustration kneading my mind. I had to escape and this batarian was in my way.

Recognizing my lack of options I activated my cloak once more, diving out of cover and crossing toward the landing pad. The batarian continued to fire at my previous location even as I bounded over the cab and behind him. I slipped my knife from my boot and drove it into his brain. My cloak dropped as his body fell lifeless, twitching; my pistol pointed at the cowering cabbie before me. I turned to face him, fierce determination written in my features.

His hands shook with fear as he tentatively held out the transport's keys. I eyed him for the span of a heartbeat, then snatched the keys from his hands. Remembering my readings, I gestured to his jacket with my pistol.

"Your weapon. Three fingers. Now."

He looked at me with a mix of confusion and surprise before realizing what I had said. Slowly, he complied and pulled a small sidearm from his inner pocket, three fingers on the grip. I jerked it from his grasp, liberated the heat sink, and tossed the weapon over the edge of the pad. He watched me with fear, hands still trembling.

"The tracer on the cab? Where is it?"

The driver seemed paralyzed with fear, but luckily was not too far gone to formulate a response. "The control panel, green two – just next to the emergency fuel source."

I nodded curtly, my eyes still upon him. "Any others?"

He shook his head. "N-no."

Myriad thoughts raced through my mind, but I could not have this man following me or alerting my attackers. I had but one option. "I'm sorry."

He held up his hands in surrender, vacant fear contorting his features, and I raised my pistol toward him. The blow knocked him cold, but he would suffer no permanent damage other than a fierce headache upon awakening. What happened to him then was no concern of mine.

I popped the top of the liberated heat sink and opened the forward cab's fuel tank, sliding it inside. The resulting explosion when powered up wouldn't be enormous, but it would be enough to take care of anyone attempting to follow me. I needed as much time as I could get.

The second cab started up with little effort and I promptly disabled the tracer. Checking my omni-tool I set my course, ignoring the desire to relax my guard upon liftoff. This was only just the beginning.