DISCLAIMER: Mass Effect video game is the property of its respective owners and the author has no financial gain from it. Original Characters and story concept are mine though.

A/N: Here is the first part of Chapter 7. We are finally in the Mass Effect galaxy with the difficult task ahead. It is about 5,6k words long. Hope you enjoy it!

My beta is still the one and the only Redentor

Chapter 7 – Walk Into The Fire

People say I am ruthless. I am not ruthless. And if I find the man who is calling me ruthless, I shall destroy him.

Robert F. Kennedy

On the way to 'Widow' Relay

Earth Year: 2172

Believe me when I say it – the Mass Effect video games couldn't do justice to the beauty, majesty and sheer scale of a mass relay. To be faced with something so glorious, I had to wonder if the race who built them had intentionally made them to be aesthetically pleasing, or if they had just naturally turned out this way. Seeing as Lox had everything under control and I wasn't any good at piloting the ship anyway, I quickly began to realise that I had a lot of time on my hands for the first time in months. I spent the last few hours going through my documents and signing off those I forgot to deal with back in the base. For once, the convoluted bureaucratic process of the Confederacy would work in my favor – I doubted that anyone would notice that some of my signatures were missing before we left. Once the backlog was dealt with I took time to familiarize myself with the ship. I pestered the patient AI for instructions on how to use various features, and he explained to me how to operate the external cameras.

As we approached the relay I sat down at the pilot's armchair, turned on the holographic screens and placed them all around me. With my eyes opened wide I put on a headset and turned on the music. As the mass relay grew bigger and bigger on the screen I heard the first notes of Johann Strauss' 'Blue Danube Waltz'. At that moment, I felt completely at peace.

"The future is now…" I murmured to myself, enchanted by the view in front of me.

In a way it was very calming to my nerves. When I played Mass Effect or any other sci-fi game I never took time to appreciate how large the Galaxy actually was. It wasn't completely my fault, because most of the games had limited means through which to purvey the feeling of the ever-expanding universe. But here and now, as I sat in this armchair in a small corvette I realized how small and insignificant we were when compared to the vastness of space. You could have dropped Mount Everest through the Mass Relay, and I doubt it would even have scraped the sides.

I don't know how long I sat there, simply watching the approaching relay, but the ever-vigilant Lox called out to me through intercom.

"Lieutenant Dubois, please strap yourself in. We will be making the relay jump to the Widow System in two minutes."

"Thank you, Lox. How do you plan to keep yourself hidden from the C-Sec? You know that AI's are illegal in the Citadel Space?"

"Don't worry lieutenant, the C-Sec can't find me if they don't know who to look for."

I couldn't argue with that logic, so I simply nodded. I took of my headset, hid it in one of my lockers and sat back down in the pilot's armchair. "Do you know where we can find Zaeed Massani?"

"A quick search on the extranet revealed that he is on the Citadel at the moment and is currently unemployed."

I was surprised by his resourcefulness, but he was an AI after all.

"And you found this little titbit on extranet, just like that?"

Lox's answer carried a hint of humor.

"Unlike C-Sec, I know what to look for, lieutenant."

We made the relay jump without any problems and for the first time in real life I saw the Citadel. If the Mass Relay made me feel insignificant, then the Citadel made me feel utterly superfluous. You could probably carry Mt. Everest on the back of the Ascension, and the dreadnought itself was dwarfed by the space station it guarded.

The damn thing was huge and bristling with life. The Citadel arms were opened wide and there was a constant traffic of larger and smaller ships coming and going. In front of the station I could clearly see the starships of the Citadel Defence Fleet with 'Destiny Ascension', the pride of the Asari navies, at the very front. It sent a clear message to any newcomers – 'You are welcome here, but if you make any trouble you'll be dealing with our dreadnoughts. Remember to check the gift store on your way in. Or else'.

I was definitely here to make trouble, if not so overtly as a dreadnought to the face, but first things first. I turned to the digital presentation of Lox – he still retained his shining blue silhouette, but now it was more subdued. To an untrained eye he looked like nothing more than a regular ship's VI. Virtual Intelligences were rarely employed on smaller vessels, but 'Coronado' was a private ship and if needs be I could play the role of the young and rich eccentric who 'needed' one to function through everyday life.

"Can you book me an appointment with Mr. Massani?"

Lox tilted his head at me with a small smile.

"Of course, but what makes you think that he will want to see you, lieutenant?"

I smirked. Generic and overused it might be, but that line was just too perfect.

"It's quite simple, my artificial friend. I will make him an offer he cannot refuse."

Apparently, if his deadpan tone of voice was any indication, Lox wasn't impressed with my witty response.

"You have never seen 'The Godfather' trilogy, lieutenant."

I looked slightly defensive at that. The worst accusations are the ones that are true.

"Well… I have seen the first half of the original film." I stammered, embarrassed.

"Yes. Once. In 2003." The bloody AI was enjoying himself way too much. How was it even possible that he remembered such irrelevant details from my old life? Then again, as an AI he quite literally had a photographic memory. I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised. But then again, what was a rather piffling detail like that doing in the Confederacy's file on me? Was my life up until this point so boring that they had to shove filler in to make up the space?

"Well fuck you too, Lox." I said, annoyed. "The crux of the matter is, that I can give Mr. Massani the help he needs in getting back control over the Blue Suns. In return, we will have the resources of the private army at our disposal, which will help us greatly in preparing for the Reapers."

"I understand that, lieutenant. But please bear in mind that even if we manage to help Mr. Massani, he will have no obligation to assist us."

My eyes had grown cold. I spoke quietly but my voice carried a dangerous edge.

"Zaeed Massani will help us in our mission. If he fails to deliver I will dispose of him and we will find someone else who will."

What was really scary, I really meant it when I said it. After a moment or so I smiled slightly at the AI's apparition and said in an amused manner.

"Of course, I am certain that Mr. Massani will turn out to be a responsible and business-minded individual. He will surely see the benefits of allying himself with us – if only for the reason that it will increases his chance of surviving what is to come."

"It is not my intention to 'rain on your parade' lieutenant, but I am quite certain that a person like Zaeed Massani would require more than just your honest word to take you seriously." I could detect hints of scepticism in the AI's voice.

I nodded thoughtfully at that and turned my armchair fully toward Lox.

"Lox, I will need to you to prepare a special data-package for me..."

As our corvette slowly entered the inbound traffic to Citadel I presented my plan to the artificial citizen. It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but I would do anything it took to get Massani and the Blue Suns on our side. After all, a mission was a mission.

Despite the long wait on the inbound traffic lane we had no problems with docking – all the paperwork prepared by the Security Branch checked out with C-Sec without any issues. According to the documents I was a trader with my own ship who hit it really big on the edges of Citadel Space and now I'd come to the Citadel itself to blow off some of my money. I had no outstanding warrants, no prior conflicts with the law, not even a traffic ticket. In fact, it seemed a bit too perfect for my taste. Back on our Earth such spotless credentials would be raising red flags and ringing alarm bells, but I'd been living for over a decade in the constant shadow of real and imagined terrorist threats. Contrary to us, the species in the Citadel Space had entered the age of peace and prosperity, ever since the end of the First Contact War, when the Systems Alliance went to war against the Turian Hierarchy.

Problems in the Terminus Systems were mostly offhandedly dismissed, not dissimilar to the way people in Europe in the 21st century regarded civil wars in the Third World. Occasional clashes in the Skyllian Verge to people living on the Citadel were distant border skirmishes between Batarians, who were thought of as nothing more than space thugs and Humans, who were considered loud, primitive and warlike. Slaver raids were not even worthy of a passing mention on the news ticker at Citadel News headquarters. It would change in the years to come, but for now it was what it was.

One way or the other, the complacency of the security forces worked in my favor. I left Lox aboard the ship and after a quick check-in I was allowed to enter the space station. I had to do my best to fit in with the crowd, so the Security Branch had prepared in advance a couple of outfits that would not look too out-of-place. This time I wore one of those short-sleeved jumpsuits that starship crews seemed to favor. As a personal touch I wore my leather biker jacket – I wanted to look professional enough for Massani to speak with me, but not too formal, lest he think I was with the Alliance. Either way would be working against me.

Zaeed Massani agreed to meet me in Chora's Den. Choosing a strip-bar might look unseemly for a business meeting, but it was perfectly clear to me why the old mercenary did it. Chora's Den was a shady joint run by the local crime lords and it did not require its patrons to surrender their weapons on entrance. Additionally, it had one main entry point that could be easily covered should it turn out to be a trap and I was sure that Massani knew his way around it to quickly vacate the premises if need be. A good mercenary always chose the home ground advantage.

I tried not to look threatening, but I had my knife and my sidearm hidden under my leather jacket. It was also bulky enough to hide the body armor chest piece that I wore should things go south. I did not expect to get into any fights, but it was better to be safe than sorry. As I approached the entrance to the bar I noticed that it was guarded by a krogan bouncer.

As I played the video game I always thought krogans to be the one of the better designed models – unlike with quarians or asari it seemed like they actually put some thought to make them look alien, but not too outlandish. Nevertheless, as I was inspected by one of the krogans up close I could really appreciate how threatening they looked in real life. The veritable mountain of muscles and scales towered over me as he asked the obvious question.

"What's your business in Chora's Den, kid?" his voice had a tone of warning to it.

It was another thing that I failed to realize, but which in hindsight seemed quite evident. When the Security Branch put me in my 21-year old body they did not take into consideration that I would not look too serious to anyone. As far as the krogan was concerned I could be just another underage schoolboy trying to sneak in to get a stiff drink and gawk at the naked girls. Not that he cared about it being illegal of course, but if the bouncer could fuck with you just for the shits and giggles he would do so.

Offended or not, I was not here to make a scene. On the other hand, being meek and obedient would get me nowhere with the outlaws, seeing as they valued ruthlessness and power above all.

"Just getting in, doing my shit and getting out, mate. Why, you writing a book or something?" I was being deliberately impertinent. I could only hope that my gamble paid off.

But the krogan bouncer seemed to have a sense of humour. He snorted at what he thought was my foolish bravado and waved me in without further problems. I was rather relieved that he hadn't taken it personally. Training be damned, if a krogan decided to take me on one on one I wasn't sure which one of us the cleaning crew would be scraping off the ground.

I entered the bar and looked around. A smile appeared on my face as I took note of loud electronic music and dancing girls. Frankly, I did not frequent go-go bars in my previous life. Not because of any prudishness on my part, but it simply seemed like a waste of time for no real gain. The one or two times that I'd been it just seemed like everyone employed there just wanted to grab your money and run – certainly not a great or positive impression. But here, in one of the shadiest places on Citadel I decided that I might have to re-evaluate my opinion on these establishments.

In the first Mass Effect, the game engine didn't have enough processing power to properly show the colors and sounds of the place and as usual reality put the video game to shame. Chora's Den was lively and incredibly loud, but all of the patrons seemed to be having a really good time. The girls weren't just pole-dancing – they were also moving about the club chatting up the people and making sure that no one felt left out. Refreshments were served by the bartenders at an astonishing rate, and a few pairs of the 'employees' were practically moulding themselves into each other at the dance floor. For all its bad rep, I could see why Chora's Den was so popular around the Citadel.

I scanned the room searching for Zaeed. I finally noticed him sitting in the corner in what I recognized as a tactically sound position. He sat with his back to the wall and he kept his eyes on the entrance. He must have noticed me the moment I entered. When he saw me looking at him he nodded without a word. Without further delay I approached his table, making sure that he could see my hands at all times – the veteran merc was as paranoid as they come and he would not hesitate to shoot me if he had any doubts about the deal.

As I sat down he seemed to measure me with his mismatched eyes. We did not shake hands – in the grey world of the freelancing mercenaries a handshake could carry with it a poisonous syringe. Rather ironic actually as I seemed to recall, the origin of the handshake was a display of being unarmed. Empty handed so to speak. Or maybe that was just a line from Terry Pratchett. Either way, poison wouldn't be appreciated on either side of the table.

"I assume you are Dubois?" As expected, he went straight to the point.

"Yes, Mr. Massani. Let me just say that it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You are quite famous in certain circles."

That he was – a ruthless mercenary or not, the man was quite a maverick. I know that Galtieri was greatly impressed with Massani's record as a freelancer. This man ate impossible missions for breakfast and we could definitely use him on our side.

"Look kid," Massani interrupted me with an impatient wave of his hand, "You look like you're about twelve, so let me get something straight. I agreed to talk with you because you sent me some money in advance, but if you don't tell me what's this all about then this conversation is over. My time is precious, youngster. You had a pair on you to talk to me personally, so I will give you one more chance to explain – don't waste it."

The last sentence was said in a dismissive manner, but I knew better than to disregard the unsaid warning. Massani was a walking and talking one-man-army and he wasn't someone to be trifled with.

"Mr. Massani, I represent a certain group of individuals who are willing to employ you on a long term basis in an advisory capacity, so to speak. We are also aware that you were the person who originally established the Blue Suns private security firm. We believe that the Blue Suns could become an asset in our endeavours."

That got a wry smile out of Zaeed.

"If you are so well-informed then you should also know that I'm no longer with the Blue Suns. We had certain disagreements in the past, mainly concerning the inclusion of the Batarians into the ranks of our outfit. As any civil organized body we respectfully discussed those differences. When the decision was put to a vote I was overruled and thus parted my ways with my dear partner Vido Santiago. From then on I ceased any and all association with the Blue Suns private security organization."

It was my turn to smile as Zaeed glossed over the fact that he was executed and nearly killed by his ex-associate. For a man who claimed that his desire for revenge was what drove him forward he was incredibly calm about the whole thing – I guess that such level-headiness came with age and experience. I decided that the Mass Effect video games did not do this man justice.

"Yes sir, we are aware of that fact. We also believe that Blue Suns ruling body was too hasty in their decision to remove you from their ranks."

Zaeed seemed to enjoy our subtle double-talk as he leaned in and asked, "So, what do you and your associates propose to do about it? The management's decision was final at the time."

"We have certain means at our disposal that would put Mr. Santiago in a position that would make him re-evaluate his decision to exclude you from the Blue Suns management."

The old mercenary scratched his scarred chin in thought.

"And what would happen to Vido?"

I smiled at that and it wasn't a pretty smile.

"He could be persuaded to step down from his current position. Preferably six feet under, Mr. Massani."

The last sentence I said with complete seriousness, mirroring exactly how I felt. Sure, in a perfect world you could save everyone, but the real world was far from perfect. You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs and if putting a bullet in Vido Santiago's head was to secure me the help of Zaeed then I was perfectly fine with that.

Zaeed leaned back and took a sip from his tall glass. My eye scanned his drink and found it to be non-alcoholic. It seemed that this man was taking no chances and I admired him for that, since such qualities would come in handy in the future. The man was an ultimate survivor. With him on our side even if we could not exactly fight the Reapers, then at least make sure that enough people lived to see the end of the war.

"Alright, Mr. Dubois – color me interested. But you know that I have to question whether you can deliver on your promise. Santiago is a bloody coward and he hides behind his Batarian janissaries more often than not."

He spat this sentence with vitriol that showed the true depth of the hatred he had for the man. I understood that no matter what happened, Vido Santiago was as good as dead. But the mercenary was still talking.

"You would need an army to get to his hidey-hole, wherever he is right now. How do you intend to do that?"

Security Branch had its own intelligence network and finding out where Vido Santiago was would not be difficult. He had an army at his disposal, we had the multiverse. It was no competition – it wasn't very fair, but in this line of work, unfair and in your favour was exactly what you tried to achieve.

"Mr. Massani, believe me when I tell you that we can deliver him to you tagged and bagged."

"And what if you can't?" inquired the mercenary.

"If we fail at our task, then you lose nothing and continue as you were. You will never hear from us again." I answered truthfully – even the seemingly easiest missions could result in failure. With people like Zaeed Massani you couldn't just promise the moon to them. He was a professional soldier and expected an honest assessment of the task.

Zaeed seemed to ponder my proposal, but I could clearly see from his body-language that he had already decided. Just like any other man in this business he liked the investments where risks were not his to shoulder.

"Let's pretend for a moment that you can get me Santiago, which will allow me to get back at the helm of the Blue Suns. What do you get out of this?"

It wasn't suspicion that led him to ask me about it. Galtieri drummed into my head that no favours came without strings attached and Massani was well aware of that fact.

"Once you regain control of the Blue Suns' assets we will offer your company a long-term contract that will require it to withdraw from all other commitments, be it body guarding, weapons smuggling or slave trading."

Mentioning the most illegal Blue Suns' activities was a calculated move. I wanted him to know that I didn't mind the fact that these things happened as long as they ended. The Confederacy's bureaucrats would swallow the bitter pill of working with the mercenary outfit – even worse compromises were made in the past. But they would never agree to work with people who profiteer from slavery or drug-dealing.

"And what about the batarians in the ranks? Do you want me to get rid of them?" asked Zaeed, knowing that it was the point of contention in the past.

I shook my head at that. I was pretty sure that Massani personally didn't care if the mercenaries he employed had four eyes or not, but he was aware that some people took exception to the fact that Blue Suns employed batarian troops in such huge numbers. Not to mention the fact that any one of the batarians the Blue Suns employed could also be on the Batarian Hegemonies payroll.

"On the contrary, Mr. Massani. After all, your PMC became a safe haven for the Hegemony's dissidents and gave them tools to fight back against the oppressive regime of Khar'shan. Or at least that's what would happen should you take control of what is rightfully yours."

Despite his gruff and seemingly crass exterior Zaeed Massani was far from dumb. He quickly caught on to the full meaning of what I said. He raised his eyebrow and whistled quietly. He seemed rather impressed with my words.

"You want to use the batarians in the ranks of the Blue Suns to destabilize the political situation in the Hegemony. I change my mind lad, you don't have a pair on you – it's a full quad. I hope that your 'associates'", he did the annoying air-quotes to emphasize the word. "Are fully aware that it could backfire like a mishandled grenade launcher, including a full-blown war. If it comes to the worst a lot of people, including the Citadel Council and the Alliance, could end up with bloody noses and they will be looking for guilty parties. They will send out Spectres and N7 after you, laddie. And have no illusions – they will find you and put you down. I can respect your bravado, but I won't be sinking with you."

I sighed deeply, not really caring whether Massani noticed or not. I knew the risks, or at least I thought I knew them. But no amount of training and conditioning can prepare you for the fact that millions of lives were at stake. For his entire money-first attitude Zaeed Massani was fully aware of the possible repercussions and I could clearly see that he did not take them lightly.

I schooled my features and looked the old mercenary in the eye. On his face I saw something akin to pity, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. But I got the gist of it – this grizzly veteran saw the place I was in and he understood it. I responded with full conviction.

"I am fully aware of the risks that I'm taking here, sir. Believe me that I will do my best to minimize the possibility of the exposure. No matter what happens please be advised that no harm will come to you or to people under your command. Whatever the Citadel's reaction may be, I will take full responsibility for it."

Having said that, I did not expect Zaeed Massani to laugh out loudly at my statement. He almost choked as he tried to contain his mirth. I guess I should have been embarrassed, but I was more curious about what was so funny to him.

The old man was so loud that patrons from the tables around us looked at us with contempt, which obviously did absolutely nothing to stop Zaeed from laughing. He was the type of guy who didn't care what people thought of him anyway. A couple of turians and humans at the table next to ours said a few less than respectable words about us, our relationship and virtues of our mothers. Still waiting for Zaeed to calm down I paid them no attention. Being in the middle of a conversation that could influence the lives of trillions tended to focus you on the important things.

Finally, after two minutes of continuous chocking, spitting and guffawing Zaeed fell silent. He wiped his teary eyes with the back of his gloved hand.

"My god, lad – that was one of the funniest things I've heard in a long time. You should be doing commercials for the Alliance Marines – 'Be all you can be! Sir, aye aye, sir!' Words of advice Dubois – free of charge. First of all, drop this 'sir' attitude when dealing with the Suns. Most of the boys and girls served in the military at one time or another. You won't get anyone impressed with the good, obedient soldier-boy routine or getting a hard-on when listening to the national anthem and jerking off to the flag. Blue Suns have been there, done that and were not very amused with it."

I nodded quietly at that – when Zaeed Massani tells you something, you'd better be listening.

"Second of all, I can see you're with the military, but your routines are all fucked up for it to be the Alliance. You step about differently, like you had other drill instructors than the Alliance Marine Corps. The Alliance soldiers wear their sidearm on the left hip with the grip facing forward, so they can reach with their right hand across when quick-drawing. Yours is on the left thigh, grip backwards, so you could theoretically grab it with your left hand – if you were left handed, which you seem to be. But it's a different tactical drill than the Alliance is teaching its men. Who exactly are you, kid?"

I was impressed with his deductive skills, as this type of knowledge could only come with years of experience and careful observation. My awe at the old mercenary's skill also left me vulnerable, because he struck me when I was still processing everything he told me. I could see him move – my eyes were upgraded just like the rest of my body – but I did not have time to react. In a split second Zaeed Massani was by my side, the barrel of his pistol digging into my belly, just under the flak vest. He was smiling widely and to any outside observer we just seemed like two buddies supporting each other in a drunken stupor.

I had done exactly what I'd been trying to avoid, and overplayed my hand. Admittedly in a fashion rather different from what I'd assumed would happen, but quite possibly fatal all the same. From the beginning I'd thought that I was in control of the situation, but it was the old mercenary who had me cornered. This man was like a spider sitting in his nest and I was but a hapless fly who flew into the trap. I thought I was convincing him so I just kept talking more and more, while he was testing the grounds, observing my every movement. When the trap was set he sprung it on me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

But I wasn't completely helpless. My flak vest had the integral shielding installed that covered all of my body. While I would still be wounded, the mass accelerated shavings would not kill me. Also, Lox was observing me through the Citadel's monitoring system and he had sent a drone after me. This drone placed itself under an electronic cloak and hovered just below the ceiling of Chora's Den. It now activated its laser designator, which was aimed at Massani's forehead. I looked directly at the drone and slowly shook my head, hoping that the signal was understood.

Zaeed followed my line of sight and noticed the blurred silhouette of the assault drone. Despite himself he smiled and said, sounding impressed, "Well, look at you, Dubois. You came more than prepared, but we seem to have found ourselves at an impasse. How about you tell me what kind of arse-grabbing piece of a ploy you're creating here and I will consider leaving you with both of your bollocks intact?"

To confirm his words he pressed in the barrel of his pistol more forcefully.

If it happened three months ago, I would have emptied my bladder now. But I wasn't that man anymore. I lived through the worst of Galtieri's memories and I had some horrible memories of my own, thanks to my 'forceful' interrogation. Despite the seemingly hopeless situation I knew what I had to do. The only thing that could salvage this disaster was maintaining a clear head and choosing my words very carefully. I looked at him with a slight smile and said quietly, still maintaining our 'drinking buddies' cover.

"Mr. Massani, I came to you with an honest offer, which I might mention still stands. All we asked in return was access to the Blue Sun's assets for which you and your men would receive a lucrative payment. Even the protection I came under did not warrant such an attack."

"Kid, you show up out of nowhere with knowledge of things you have no business knowing. Your offer is simply too good to be true. Who are you?"

"My name is Peter Dubois and I hold the rank of lieutenant in a paramilitary organization. I can't tell you more than that here, Mr. Massani, because the walls in the Chora's Den have ears. Do you know a place where we can talk uninterrupted?"

I doubted that anyone here would believe what I had to say, but I was not taking any chances now.

The old mercenary grabbed my sidearm and attached it to a magnetic strip on his armor. He tilted his head to the side, signalling me to walk toward the exit.

"There is a place where we can talk, Dubois. It's also a place where I can dispose of your body, should I not like what you have to say. And you better call off your watch dog too, or else my trigger-finger just might slip."

His palm twitched in general direction of the drone. I nodded slightly as we left Chora's Den. I couldn't help but notice that despite his hostile actions, his tone of voice carried no anger towards me. Zaeed Massani was on the job now as he led me at gunpoint, it was nothing personal. It made me realize that for this ultra-paranoid merc it was simply just another day at the office.

I scanned the club's interior as we walked and I hoped that I would live to get a private lap-dance from one of the asari girls. You may think whatever you want about me – I truly felt I deserved it.

A/N: As usual, Dubois is stuck between the rock and the hard place. He has to deal with some questionable people to achieve his goals and at times it will bite him in the ass. Stay tuned for more!