Disclaimer: I do not own the Mass Effect games. This story is written with no profit in mind. I make no money from it. It isn't for sale or rent.
Chapter 1: Of cops and spectres
=DC=
Part 3
=DC=
22.04.2183 GS
Council Audience Chamber
Citadel Tower
The Citadel
Among the spectators, a pair of Turians watched the proceedings with mixed feelings. One of them wore rather expensive suit in red and blue colours with white decorations. The other wore a light grey armour decorated with C-SEC's colours and logo on the chest plate and shoulders. He lacked helmet, though an eye piece provided targeting assistance and direct connection with his omni-tool. Both of them proudly wore the facial paint marking them as natives of the homeworld, though that and the fact that they were C-SEC officers was where the similarities between them ended.
"See, Vakarian? There was no need to do something as asinine as 'stall' the Council. Though I'll admit I'm pleasantly surprised that Saren hasn't let his power go up to his head. Damned Spectres..."
"If you say so, sir. So much wasted time..." Garrus grumbled.
"Serves you right. Now get back to work. We're still trying to find that Quarian who has the Spectres in a tizzy."
"Aye, sir. I'm going to hunt her down myself." Vakarian thought he did a credible job of keeping his sarcasm to himself as he left the Executor behind. He personally felt that there was something odd with Saren – call it a gut feeling if you will, however with no evidence to speak of… Heh, evidence. What possessed the Humans to make fools of themselves with this circus with the Council, Garrus would never know.
He headed towards the nearest elevator and activated his omni-tool. First he went over the ten priority messages – eight were from the Spectre Office, denying him access to files he needed to investigate Saren. He deleted those – it didn't matter any more. If Saren was dirty he was now the Humans and Council's problem. Garrus might be a bad Turian, however he was nobody's fool – he wasn't going to chase a Spectre on a gut feeling.
A message from Chellick was next – apparently only a few people had thought of looking at underground clinics or doctors. Garrus snorted at that – it didn't take a genius to figure out that a scared Quarian kid on the run wouldn't trust C-SEC nor one of the regular hospitals unless she collapsed and someone called and ambulance. A few hundred years of bad blood and prejudice on every side would do that he guessed.
The last message was from a Council aide officially terminating C-SEC's investigation. That was fast – a glance at the timestamp suggested the message was sent less than a minute after the meeting was over – while he was talking with Palin in fact. It shouldn't have been surprising. The Council had to know what the Human's evidence consisted of some time before the meeting and unless their Ambassador produced something new, well that whole circus had been a formality really. What a waste of everyone's time, bloody politics!
Next he came to the ordinary messages – a backlog of nearly a hundred, which accumulated while he was sealed within his office bashing his head against an electronic wall. A half of it was the usual spam and with that unpleasant revelation, Garrus made a note to update his filters. Two of his subscribed journals got new editions and their digital copies were in his inbox now – good, though it was another question if he would find the time to check them. A talon flick sent those messages within the appropriate secure folder for later review.
What was next – bills, more bills, a message of his landlord – the security of the building would be getting an upgrade next month, nice but probably it would come with a rent rise… Huh, a message from Dr Chloe Michaels – she ran a free clinic in the lower levels of Zakera ward. Another flick and his eyes flickered over the contents.
Got an odd patient today. Quarian kid, shot with polonium rounds. She's delirious and scared. Please do drop by as soon as you can. She believes someone is after her and well, someone did shoot her with very illegal ammo.
Well, wouldn't you know, he might just keep that 'promise' he just have Palin. But first, backup. There had to be a reason the Spectres "requested" the Quarian be found. Unless they were overreacting, that meant that either she was dangerous – which given her handiwork at the docks was a given or someone dangerous was after her.
"Guess, its both." Garrus muttered. He flicked on the call function of his omni-tool and called Chellick.
"Buddy, I think I found our Quarian or where she was earlier today. I'll need some backup on the quiet just in case. I'm sending you the address."
=DC=
22.04.2183 GS
STG Safe-house
The Citadel
Jondum Bau was in his element – he swam in data and his assistant VI barely kept pace. Another, less capable one was busy sifting for anything useful from the data Vasir recovered during her meeting with Fist and surprisingly, what that VI found, broke his corruption case wide open. He opened a few new holographic windows and grinned manically. This certainly was a new venue of attack – payments, deliveries, data theft, smuggling… a pattern emerged and Bau's smile died.
"Citadel Dock control compromised." He muttered to himself. "That's why there was no recording of the Quarian arriving, neither a picture of her nor a recording of her encounter with the hit team!" He hit a few buttons and the VI did the rest – a new window appeared highlighting a payment with a time and service. The how was something he was very interested in – cameras shutting down should have sent alert to Dock Control. The frequency of smuggling and other irregularities in these files alone painted a grim picture. The system itself was compromised and there had to be someone on the pay in every shift… or worse, the whole staff mostly sourced from a daughter company of the corporation he was investigating, was compromised.
He compiled a message with his preliminary findings and sent them both to C-SEC and the appropriate people within CDF. Bau had the nagging feeling that his day would only become more interesting. He was proven right an hour later when his taps within both Fists organization and Barla Von's bank pinged almost simultaneously.
Naturally, he checked on the gangster first – he was the one trying to get their person of interest located and silenced after all.
"Well, that's simply embarrassing..." Bau twitched. Apparently Fist's goons had located the Quarian's trail before C-SEC. She had contacted him of all people to request a personal meeting with the Shadow Broker in order to negotiate unloading hot data. Fist wasted no time in dispatching some of his goon towards the clinic and just in case arranging a meeting deep within the lower levels of the wards.
"Vasir, I've got her! As of five minutes ago, our Quarian was at a clinic in Sub Level Seventeen, Zakera Ward. She just contacted Fist and he set her up to meet another hit team at the following coordinates…"
"Good work. Take control of all available cameras and get me eyes on our target. Time of the meeting?"
"In five hours. Fist has people converging on the clinic too. They might get her there if she leaves late."
"We're on it. Keep us apprised."
With Spectre credentials, taking control of the cameras in the area – the few operational anyway, was a child's play. There was a single Quarian visible and obviously male. Bau tagged him just in case and set a VI to monitor the feeds while he send his primary one to monitor the cameras in a much larger area around the clinic. Unfortunately, there were too many blind-spots in that part of the wards – probably intentionally and one of the reasons why said clinic was there – anonymity.
With the immediate task done, Bau opened the intercept on Von. Well, well. Saren and due to continuing to work for him, Fist, had betrayed the Shadow Broker. No details on said betrayal, unfortunately. However, the bleeding edge STG software monitoring Von managed to get the instructions hot – Von was to assist in bringing Saren down. That wasn't good for Von – even if Arterius almost certainly a traitor now, acting against him while still a Spectre all but guaranteed that the banker just became a high placed person of interest.
The other interesting piece of the instructions was an order to facilitate a hit on Fist and Saren's assassination once his Spectre status got stripped down… to be carried by no one else but Urdnot Wrex, who should be arriving on the Citadel within the hour. Wasn't that interesting… Bau could understand sending that particular Krogan after Saren – he was a tough bastard, anyone knew that much. But wasting his talents on Fist? Was that merely opportunism?
"Vasir, there is more that you should know. Your old friend Wrex is arriving shortly on the station, Aleena. Try not to bring the Citadel down around our ears, would you kindly?"
"You know about that? Heh, of course the STG knows… Those were good times… Flag Wrex when he arrives. I'll go make sure he doesn't do something particularly boneheaded..."
=DC=
Part 4
=DC=
22.04.2183 GS
conference room
Citadel Tower
The Citadel
The hour after Vasir dropped her bombshells turned out unexpectedly mundane. Her pretext to pull Shepard and his squad out was in fact genuine and they spent answering insightful questions about the Geth and their ground units capabilities and tactics.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but wasn't most of this already covered by our AARs?" Alenko eventually dared to ask.
"It might very well be. It's still necessary and my questions might just jolt some detail out of you that you've overlooked in the heat of combat. I'm sure you're for the same dance once you're back to with your people." Vasir patiently explained.
The way she smoothly shifted from coldly professional, to light-heartedly flirtatious to a calm lecture mode was weird – as if speaking with three different people, yet Shepard had the feeling that was merely scratching the surface.
"Highly resistant to heat, you say?" The Spectre shifted back to professional debriefing mode. "Yet, if enough heat is introduced the fluid they use for hydraulics and power distribution boils and damages them even if the outer shell is more or less intact?"
"One of the specialized flamethrower units seemed to be fine after it got too close to a fuel depot. It's three buddies not so much and I'm sure at least one of those was intact safe for the fire." Alenko nodded. "The mission recorders should collaborate. It happened about an hour in the mission."
Vasir nodded and made a note on her omni-tool.
"Aren't you supposed to be looking for a Quarian or using the boss for a bait?"
Williams who has been mostly ignored so far eventually asked.
Vasir gave her a mischievous look. "A few more feet running around the station would make no difference. I have minions to do the legworks. A lesson time, Shepard." She turned to look at John. "With our authority, at least within Council Space, its highly recommended that we delegate. We can be only at one place at a time and running around unless we actually need to can ensure we are out of place to act when we need to. On the Citadel for example, C-SEC are duty bound to assist us. There is nothing we can do better in the actual search compared to the thousands of officers looking for the Quarian. Once we've got a credible lead, then we'll move." Vasir paused and returned her attention to the Sergeant. "Williams – those two Geth you lured in cannisters with liquid nitrogen and flash-froze before linking up with Shepard. Would you say that they were neutralized for good or merely temporarily taken out until their joints unfroze?"
"I don't know, ma'am. We didn't take the same path to the dig site after linking up. If we met those same units, there was no apparent sign of them being frozen."
"Something to think about..." Vasir jolted down the next note.
The pattern of her questions was obvious as well as the reason why she aimed said questions primary at Shepard and Alenko – both of them had engineering training under their belts, with Shepard's primary speciality before transferring to the N cadre being a combat engineer. During special operations training, his tech abilities were further refined too, something Vasir undoubtedly knew. That aligned with the nature of most questions – they primary concerned on Geth technology, raw capabilities of their platforms and how that stacked against Citadel equipment. While she did in fact ask about their tactics and said questions demonstrated she knew what she was doing, that was distinctly secondary in her priorities. The inquisition thus continued on and on.
"Overloads continued to be effective up to the end of the mission, especially when using customized program with enhanced omni-tool meant to increase their striking power. Hacking their weapons, sensors or even IFF was initially effective, however they adapted shortly. By the time we reached the beacon it was practically impossible to remotely disrupt their weaponry. I'm unsure if it was because they cut any external access or simply updated their cyber defences..." Shepard answered the latest question when Vasir got a most interesting call.
She was obviously using an earbud, not an implant because John was able to get her side of the conversation.
"Good work. Take control of all available cameras and get me eyes on our target. Time of the meeting?"
As she spoke, her bearing charged again. Now, she felt like a hungry predator ready to pounce. John wasn't sure how she managed to make such an impression by merely shifting in her chair, leaning a bit forward and smiling.
"We're on it. Keep us apprised." Now Vasir's attention shifted to Shepard. "We got our break. The Quarian was at a clinic in the lower wards as of a few minutes ago. She is being set up to meet assassins in a few hours. We're going to hit the clinic and if we miss her there, stake out the meeting place, take out the assassin and retrieve her to ask a few pointed questions."
"By we, do you mean you and the Commander, or all of us, ma'am?" Alenko asked. "If it's the latter, some gear would be appreciated."
"Lieutenant, you and the Sergeant would be escorted back to your ship. Once there I would recommend to gear up and stay put. The last thing we need is running battle between the two of you and some fool out for the bounty on your heads. As for the Commander, we got his measures from his file. There's a C-SEC ERS gear for him waiting. The last thing either the Council or your people need is further complications at this point." She nodded at a crate that has been innocuously sitting in the corner of the room this whole time.
"She's right. Get back to the ship, gear up, make sure that the walking wounded from our ground team are accounted and stay put on the Normandy. They should be busy writing AARs and answering similar questions from the brass." Shepard ordered.
"Aye, sir." Alenko got up a moment before Williams.
"The marines outside will arrange transport and security until you're on board your ship." Vasir got up as well and her omni-tool beeped. She tilted her head, listening to the incoming message. "You know about that? Heh, of course the STG knows… Those were good times… Flag Wrex when he arrives. I'll go make sure he doesn't do something particularly boneheaded..." She actually laughed happily at whatever she was just told. "A small change of plans. As it turns out, now both Saren and Fist, the idiot he contracted to arrange your murder are at odds with the Shadow Broker. He's sending a contractor to end Fist and once Saren has been stripped off his Spectre status, go after him as well. After we hit the clinic, we'll go intercept said contractor – an old acquaintance of mine. We'll persuade him not to collect the bounties on your heads and he might come in handy when going after Saren."
"I see..." Shepard muttered. He really didn't, not yet anyway.
=DC=
22.04.2183 GS
lower levels
Zakera ward
The Citadel
When he arrived in the neighbourhood with Dr Michaels' clinic, Garrus already knew that the situation had gone bad already. A patrol looking for the Quarian had decided to drop by and check if she has come in for treatment and they arrived just moments after a bunch of goons entered. The result had been a short vicious firefight that left an officer dead and his partner bleeding and screaming for backup. By the time Vakarian's car landed and he got out, Chellick was already on the scene along with at least a five more patrols. They had managed to drag their wounded buddy out and he was already on the way to Huerta Memorial in an ambulance. The clinic itself was more or less surrounded with ERS unit on its way.
"Garrus, good, you're here. We don't have plans of the place and there's some kind of interference preventing remote scans. You've been inside, right?" His partner didn't waste any time.
"Yeah. It's a small space. Unfortunately, there's only one entrance." He nodded at the door. "It leads to a five metre corridor with a door to the left for a small bathroom. The clinic itself is about six meter wide and about twenty long. The last time I was in, there was a solid barrier, about metre and half high right in front of the door. It acted as a kind of reception. Various drug and omni-gel dispensers on the wall to the left along with the doc's desk. To the right there were spaces with beds. The first four had thin but solid walls, the rest of the space was divided with curtains. No telling how many civilians are in there besides the doctor." Garrus paused for breath. "Chellick, as I told you, I got a message from Dr Michaels that she treated a Quarian girl with polonium poisoning. If I only checked my mails instead of wasting time with that Saren thing..." He shook his head ruefully.
"Orders, you couldn't help it." Chellick nodded in sympathy. As Garrus described the place, the other Detective had been busy using his omni-tool to draw a crude schematic of the clinic. "Does this look right?"
Garrus examined his partner's handiwork with a critical eye and added a few corrections. "That should be it unless the keepers paid it a visit since the last time I was here."
The Turians grimaced in commiseration. As useful as those buggers were, they tended to as often as not complicate everyone's lives. Whoever found a way to either communicate or control them would be set for life. Spirits, their families would be set up for generation. The Council had a very generous fund looking for solutions.
"When is the negotiator arriving?" Garrus asked.
"A few minutes after the ERS. She'll have to make it all the way from HQ."
In contrast, every ward had three substations where ERS units were stationed for rapid deployment.
"On the bright side, there hasn't been any shots coming from inside since the initial encounter." Chellick said.
"Small mercies. ERS will have to cut their way in. That corridor is a perfect killing ground. If they have any explosives..." Garrus winced.
"Those guys don't like frontal assaults if they can help it anyway."
Garrus nodded and glared at the clinic trying to think of a way to sneak in without having to blow a wall or the ceiling – not an ideal plan considering that there might be an unknown number of hostages in there.
It was at that time, when the day took a turn for the worse. An air car landed at the edge of the perimeter and when one of the officers there tried to wave it off, the door opened and an omni-tool flashed displaying credentials. The Turian stiffened and offered a reflexive salute. Spirits, was that Palin or something?
Garrus turned to look at the commotion and Chellick followed his example. An armoured Asari disembarked followed by a tall Human or Batarian in C-SEC armour. She looked over the area, frowned and headed their way with her companion in tow.
"Tela Vasir, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. I understand we might have a person of interest inside. Report." With those words, the Asari took charge of the situation and Garrus wondered if they would even try to get anyone out alive with the exception of the Quarian the Spectre was obviously here for.
