Chapter 58 - Smooth Operators
April 7th, 2211, 1342 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
SSV Excalibur – Deck 2, Officer's Quarters
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Jaelen Veers, Numerous PhD's)
Viral vector? – possible, but inconsistent with spread pattern. Non-viral? Maybe… Lower host immunogenicity…can change targets... Crawlers? No no no…does not make sense… Cloud not exposed to Crawler…wait, is that Shepard?
There she was, coming out of Cloud and Elektra's room. The red hair was unmistakable among the crew. Curious, Jaelen quietly snuck up behind her.
"Excuse me, commander. What were you doing?"
Shepard jumped and spun around. "Oh, hey there! You're…Doctor Veers right? Jaelen Veers?"
The commander seemed to be holding something behind her back. Jaelen's eyes narrowed. He pointed a finger towards her hand. "What is that, commander?"
The commander gave an awkward smile. Without hesitating she pulled out an old book from behind her back. "This? Nothing. Just a book I was looking to lend Spectre Cloud. 'Like Wind and Water – The Teachings of Matriarch Martina'. She was a famed asari commando who authored a lot of books on biotic combat. This one is the first. I mentioned her to Cloud and he expressed interest in reading it, so I thought I'd lend him my copy."
Jaelen squinted at the book. Having dated an asari for most of his adult life, Jaelen could read and write thessian very well. The book was indeed what the commander said it was.
Jaelen sniffed. "I see. The Spectre departed a short while ago, to begin his mission to win the support of the gangs."
"Yeah I figured," Shepard shook her head ruefully. "I must have just missed him. Oh well, I'll try him again when he returns."
Jaelen cocked his head at her. "Why didn't you just leave it on his desk?"
Shepard scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Well Jaelen, this book is kind of a rare one. I didn't want to just leave it lying on his desk. Plus as you can see, the cover is in Thessian. He might not have known what it was."
All fair, Jaelen supposed, but still the salarian couldn't help but sense that the commander was hiding something.
"Jaelen…" Shepard began. "How well do you know Cloud?"
The question took Jaelen a bit by surprise. "Not well by objective standards I suppose. I have only known him a few short months to be honest. But I know he is a good man. He's quiet, and once you get to know him you can tell that although he appears calm and composed on the outside, on the inside he is anything but. I know that without him we would have all died on the Hippocrates. He is my friend."
Shepard nodded respectfully. "Did he… ever tell you about himself? About his childhood?"
"Rumor is that he was an orphan. Him and Spectre Elektra. Explains his mannerisms and his emotional functioning. Also – orphans not uncommon after the War. Sadly. But no, commander. He never talks about it. I was under the assumption that he had been in the system before he could form solid, long-term memories. Perhaps you could try Spectres Kitiarian and Percival if you are interested in a biography."
"Right," Shepard agreed. "Thank you, Jaelen."
Commander Shepard made to leave. "Oh, and commander!" Jaelen called out.
Shepard turned. "Yes, Jaelen?"
"Please do not attempt to engage in coitus with the Spectre. Do not ask why, I cannot tell you why. Patient-doctor confidentiality." Jaelen was not a medical doctor, but hopefully Shepard didn't know that. Given his knowledge of his friend's current medical condition, Jaelen nonetheless felt that he owed a duty of care to the ship's crew.
Shepard pursed her lips and starred flatly at Jaelen for a second. She did not respond, but simply spun on her heels and continued her departure.
Just before she rounded the corner, Jaelen saw her open the book and a quick look of satisfaction washed over her face. What in the name of the Dalatrasses… the Commander was certainly an eccentric one.
Ordinarily he might have been more suspicious, but this was the Commander Shepard. If there was anyone whose motives or intentions could be considered unimpeachable, it would be hers. As such, Jaelen just shrugged and continued on his way back to the lab, whistling a cheerful little jaunt from his favourite musical.
April 7th, 2211, 1402 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Tora District
(Spectre Operative 04272182-Cloud)
"What in the galaxy could Cade be doing in there?"
An excellent question and one that I had been asking myself every thirty seconds since Cade had gone inside. I shrugged at Percival. "I don't know. Maybe he saw a…" I looked at the store. "…Jacket he really liked?"
Percival groaned and tried to spot our friend but the shop ran deeper than it looked. "If he's wasting our time over a damn jacket I swear… I won't be held responsible for what I am going to do to him."
"You and me both."
The Tora District was one of the districts situated on the bottom or 'floor' of Omega. Surrounded by tall high-rises blackened by decades of unwashed smoke and dirt, the streets were filled with throngs of lower-class Omega residents going about their day. The smell of hot food from local street vendors hung heavy in the air and would have made the district a nice place to hang out, if that same air was not also tainted by the smell of garbage and bodily waste.
Someone had left a bag of trash on the street not ten feet away from a garbage can. With nothing better to do but wait I decided to go grab it and toss it out. The trash can was almost completely empty, so either Omega had a better waste recovery system than it looked or its residents thought it would be hilarious to dump their trash anywhere but the place where it was supposed to go. When I returned to my spot outside the store another bag had appeared in a bit farther down the lane.
I felt cold and exposed out of armor. Percival had suggested we stick with just our kinetic shields so that we wouldn't draw any unwanted attention while we were running around Omega, and I had agreed. People would remember a trio of armored individuals, especially if one of them had an N7 stripe and the other was wearing armor worn only by the Ghost Infiltrators. We had our pistols, grenades and civilian clothes but nothing more than that.
"Hey," I asked, making conversation. "Shepard told me that she'd given each of us a little something special that her personal R&D team had whipped up. Did you get something nice?"
"Oh yeah," Percival said enthusiastically.
"Great. What is it?"
My friend rubbed the back of his neck and hummed and hawed. "It's… a tech upgrade," he said defensively. "Haven't had the chance to try it out yet. Hopefully I won't need to here, you know? How about you? What'd you get?"
"I got you," I nodded. "She gave me a fancy, new amp. It allows for some… weird shit."
"Cool. So have you tried it out yet? Elektra told me she now has access to basically every biotic attack in existence, though she's admitted to me that she'll probably stick with her vanguard moves. She's keen to try out 'Reave' though."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, everything? She didn't tell me that."
"Yeah, everything. Reave, Pull, Throw, Singularity… I mean, I guess it's mostly all the standard Alliance ones, but still. She's a regular biotic swiss army knife now. You might be out of a job soon."
Percival gave me a friendly elbow in the ribs. "So what did you get? Don't be shy," he grinned.
I glanced through the store window. A familiar shape appeared and I killed the conversation. "He's finally coming out."
Percival peered inside as well. "I am going to kill him."
Cade came out holding three bags. "Sorry that took so long boys. Percival, it was incredibly hard to find something in your size. What did your parents feed you when you were a little boy?"
"What did you buy," Percival and I both simultaneously said.
The turian grinned and pulled a long, black coat out of the first bag. "Look!" Cade said gleefully. "It looks exactly like the one that human actor wore in that movie when he was playing that detective!"
My ears began to ring and Cade's voice slowly began to peter out as he began to launch into a long-winded, enthusiastic pitch about how we were going to dress up like detectives now that we were doing detective stuff and how we'd look so cool doing so in a place like Omega and how he'd always wanted to live out a true cyberpunk fantasy. Eventually the ringing overtook everything that Cade was saying. By the time Percival grabbed Cade by the shoulders and began to scream into his face I couldn't hear a single word.
My eyes and fingers twitched and all of a sudden the sound came rushing back. I grabbed the black coat from Cade's hand and put it on without a word.
Perfect fit. When had Cade taken the time to take my measurements?
"See!" Cade pointed. "Cloud's on board! Cloud, I knew you'd always have my back!"
My friend then pulled out the last two trench coats. One was a nice gray while the other was a large, moth-bitten mustard-yellow one with some suspicious looking stains on it.
He held up the ratty looking one. It was probably too big for even Percival. "Now Percival, I know it isn't much to look at but this was the only one they had that looked like it would fit you. I'm sorry buddy but—"
Percival yanked the nice gray one out of Cade's hand. "Thanks buddy. I like them tighter anyways."
Years later when I was on my death bed I would most definitely recall the expression Cade had on his face today and laugh right up until I died. I immediately turned on my heel and began to walk towards the address that Aria had given us for her daughter's apartment. Percival followed suit.
Cade looked down at the mustard-yellow trench in his hands and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"Wait boys! The hats!" he called out after us.
April 7th, 2211 1439 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Tora District, Raido Apartments, 59th floor
(Spectre Operative 04272182-Cloud)
Narala T'Loak lived in one of the nicer apartments in the Raido district. It was farther from the Afterlife than I expected, which suggested to me that either she was extremely independent or that her and Aria might not have been on the closest of terms. It also suggested to me that she either knew how—or felt confident that she could—take care of herself. The daughter of Aria T'loak had to be a tempting target to anyone looking to take a shot at the Pirate Queen.
Cade's stupid coats drew more attention than I would have liked, but the hats covered up our faces decently well and most of the attention we got was derisive laughter anyways. We paid them no heed and made our way up the elevators to her apartment.
I booted up my omni-tool and hacked the door. The locking software was more robust than average but our top-tier Spectre hacking program managed to get it open all the same.
I flipped a nearby switch and the lights came on.
Cade let out a low whistle. "Damn, this is a nice place. If you're going to spend your life in a cesspit like Omega then this was the place to do it from."
"A bigger apartment just means a longer search, and the less time we have to prepare for the Project," Percival sighed.
Her apartment was a spacious, multi-room bachelor pad. Expensive-looking paintings hung from the walls and the furniture was modern and trendy, so likely Narala had a good source of credits or she was still under her mother's wing. If it was the former… well there was only one way to earn a good amount of credits on Omega.
There were no signs of struggle at all. "Alright, you know the drill boys. Percival and I will do physical and technical sweeps. Cade, hack the cameras and see if you can pick up a trail."
Percival and I began to search the rooms while Cade planted his scaly behind on the couch and started hacking into the local CCTV. Draped in his stained, moth-bitten, oversized coat he looked like a tiny child. I snapped a few pictures so I could show them to Camilla and the crew later tonight.
I started around the bed while Percival checked the kitchen. The bed was king-sized and had been made before she left. So she was meticulous. I scanned and checked for hidden panels and datapads but nothing came up.
"Left a lot of food in here. All of it is rotten," Percival reported from beside the fridge.
"Maybe she was grabbed after all then," I surmised.
"Maybe," Percival agreed. "Just not here."
Her personal computer was still at her desk as well. I booted it up. It was password protected.
I sighed and executed a hacking program, but it would be a couple of minutes before it got through.
"Cade, any luck?" I called out.
"Found a few circuits. Picked her up leaving the place roughly nine days ago. No one's been at the apartment since then. Before that the cameras catch her leaving and returning routinely every day as far back as the recording will go. I'll try to track her with our facial scanning program, but CCTV's likely limited beyond the apartment."
That was more than the week that Aria reported. So Aria's daughter leaves her apartment nine days ago and her last point of contact with anyone was seven days ago. What had she done in that period? I should have asked Aria who had been the last to see her or speak to her, damn it.
"Maybe it's not related to stolen goods or anything like that then? If no one's searched her place?" Percival shouted from the bathroom.
"Yeah that doesn't look likely. Found any bugs yet? Any sign she was being monitored?"
"Nothing in here but asari scalp cleaner and a bunch of feminine products. Checking for hidden panels and containers now, you?"
"Nothing. Personal computer's still here though. Running a program now but it will need a minute."
I meandered over to a shelf containing actual, physical books beside her bed. Checking a bookshelf was as much a running joke as it was a legitimate, investigative technique of ours. Percival and I used to be skeptics – after all, hiding secrets in a bookshelf was super-clichéd – but Cade had not only once found hard drives stored in a physical book that a perp had hollowed out, he'd also found a switch leading to a secret room.
I glanced at some of the titles. There was Fleet and Flotilla: A Novelization, a book based on the decades-old, popular cult classic film about a forbidden love between a turian and a quarian. There was also And Love Fell, a book of free verses by the asari poet Techllis Bel. That was another long-time bestseller satirizing the ability of sentient races to rise above basic bloodshed and beloved by either young, pretentious pseudo-intellectuals or hopeless idealists. There was a few old issues of Justicar Heroes and Last Star in the Sky – Delsay Orthysa, a detective fiction set on the Citadel where an asari detective goes searching for her missing sister.
"Hey Cloud, the program finished. Her terminal is open," Cade pointed out.
I immediately sat down in front of it and began to run the usual searches. There were no encrypted files and no high-level malware.
"Check the browsing history," Cade urged. He had gotten up from the couch and was now hanging behind me, peering over my shoulder. Percival joined us as well.
"I know. And can you stand back? Your coat smells like ass."
The browser history revealed nothing more than online shopping, holo-vids, and what looked like fanfiction for some video game. I checked the messages next. Her terminal and likely her omni-tool used a standard multi-platform messaging program common throughout the known galaxy.
"Looks like someone had a best friend," Percival commented.
Aside from spam-ads and the like, all of Narala's messages were to and from a person named Risha D'Miris. The conversation spanned thousands of messages going back years, with most of them exchanged daily, and the topics ranging from work to life to shared hobbies. There were discussions dozens of messages long about some new holo-film series.
There were more serious, intimate discussions as well, and reading them made me feel like a perverse intruder in a world that I had no right to be in. Narala had confided to Risha at length about her anxiety over her mother's line of work. There were long conversations between the two about their hopes and dreams— apparently the two had wanted to leave Omega together to find a better life out in the galaxy but Aria had forbidden it. A few weeks ago the two were celebrating Narala's new job as a guard for some medical clinic down in the Gozu district and commiserating over the loss of Risha's job at some local bar, which according to Narala was "a blessing in disguise" and an opportunity for Risha to find something better.
I filtered them by the most recent and noticed something peculiar. All of them had been sent by Narala.
[NaraTblues ] [03/21/2211 – 2101]: By the Goddess you NEED to see this video! Sending now!
[NaraTblues ] [03/22/2211 – 0742]: Did you see the little varren? I died!
[NaraTblues ] [03/22/2211 – 1101]: BTG I think my boss woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Some guy tried to palm a couple of meds – nothing special, just low-level prescriptions, and he went OFF on him. Sicced the mechs and everything.
[NaraTblues ] [03/22/2211 – 1631]: Going to be getting off my shift early, want to do something tonight? Maybe grab a bite?
[NaraTblues ] [03/22/2211 – 2321]: Busy day?
[NaraTblues ] [03/23/2211 – 1216]: Is everything okay?
[NaraTblues ] [03/24/2211 – 2008]: Hey, you there?
[NaraTblues ] [03/25/2211 – 1024]: I don't know if maybe you're going through some stuff right now, but just know that I'm here if you want to talk about it.
The messages continued for a few more days with no reply coming from her friend before stopping abruptly just four days before Narala was last seen on the thirty-first.
Cade, Percival and I all shared a look. No doubt the same thought was running through each of our minds.
"Cade —," I began.
"I did it while you were reading. Hacked into the employee records of Risha's old employer. Got an address," he interrupted.
I opened up a channel back to the Excalibur. "Shepard, we found a lead. Her name is Risha D'Miris. Looks like she was a friend of Aria's daughter. Can you run a background check on her for us? Find out everything you can?"
"You got it. Kasumi and I will do some digging and let you know what we find."
I shut down the terminal and headed for the door, pulling the lapel of my black coat tighter across my chest. The conversations were those that you would see between two best friends. Narala had not needed to put into words the concern that she was feeling for her friend. I had felt it in each and every single one of her unanswered messages. Whoever Risha was, to Narala she had been her one beacon of light in the dim pit that was this station.
I was going to get to the bottom of whatever had happened to the two of them. Narala and Risha were no more than a couple of young asari who were likely just coming into their maiden stage. They deserved a happy ending.
But this was Omega. And on Omega, there were no happy endings.
April 7th, 2211 1457 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Badum District
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Lance Corporal Galen Verus, Turian Heirarchy)
Like in all large cities, crap trickled downwards.
Omega was built like a massive jellyfish, with the stem being comprised of a multitude of vertical processing and recycling facilities that extended dozens of kilometers down from Omega's upper-levels. Each of these facilities were designed and installed in an ad hoc manner, built when the need arose for them with no thought given to integrating them with the rest of the facilities or to building habitable districts between them.
The result was that there was a lot of dead space between these facilities where there were no permanent residents or shops and plenty of scrap-metal huts, make-shift checkpoints and gang outposts. It was populated primarily by the dying or the destitute. The seclusion from the more populated and boisterous parts of Omega and the lack of urban planning had transformed the stem into a sort of 'slums' for the humongous space station.
This dead space was where Garm and Galen were currently travelling now. It took all of Galen's composure and nerve to watch his back without making it too obvious that he was doing so. Foregoing the former would mark him as an easy target in a place like this. Failing the latter would mark him as a promising target in a place like this.
There were as many dead bodies on the 'street' as there were live ones. Packs of Vorcha were the primary residents of the slums, but there were the odd human and batarian as well – usually these were unfortunate drug addicts but also wanted criminals and individuals who had pissed off one of the stronger gangs that inhabited Omega proper. There were almost no turians. As Galen understood it, most of the turians on Omega belonged to either the Blue Suns or were employed under Aria. That meant that they were in the top levels of Omega.
Garm's sheer size, scowl, and the Geth spitfire he carried on his back were enough of a deterrence to turn away most of the aliens they passed on the street, but some of the folks around here were so nasty-looking that Galen wouldn't have put it past them to take a run at the krogan. And at him.
Although he had removed any insignia that marked him as an active member of the turian Hierarchy, the fact that he was a turian was enough to attract unwanted attention. A pack of vorcha rose up from the dead corpse that they had been looting and flashed Galen a grin filled with needle-sharp teeth.
Garm unholstered his spitfire and fired a long burst towards their feet. The vorcha scattered with shrieks of rage and a few of the other unsavory denizens of the slums slinked away.
"I bet you're wondering why in the name of Shiagur's left teet I dragged you down to this shithole, aren't you kid?"
The thought had crossed his mind. Instead of answering verbally Galen replied the way he usually replied and just shrugged. The krogan had been conversing one-sidedly with him ever since they had departed from the Excalibur. His silence didn't seem to bother Garm one bit, which suited Galen just fine.
Garm glanced at the corpse and shook his head. It looked like he had been a mercenary. Galen wondered if the man had already been dead when the vorcha found him or if he'd been another victim of the savage species. He hoped it was the former. He tried not to think too hard about the post-mortem bite-marks in the man's flesh or the fact that the man had looked only to be about a few years older than Galen himself.
"Omega never changes," Garm grunted dispiritedly. "Hopeful young fools like him come here in the hundreds and in the thousands, thinking that Omega is where they'll achieve all their wildest dreams – where they'll become some notorious mercenary, stinking rich and feared by all. Then they go joining gangs and mercenary groups to try and realize those dreams."
He shut the man's eyes – what was left of them – and muttered something in Tuchankan. "Omega is not just a pit or a tar trap. It's an animal. An organism. It's alive and it's hungry – hungry for fools like him. For it needs fools like him to survive. Omega lures them in with false promises of wealth and power. Few actually find it here, and those who do often do so on a mountain of the dead – those who had dreamed the same dreams as this man did, except that they just weren't strong or fast or lucky enough to escape the siren song of Omega."
Garm turned to Galen. The young turian had no idea how old the krogan was, but in that moment he looked old indeed. "The slums down here are popular meeting spots for the local merc gangs. They're also havens for newer ones – those without the power or influence to establish required to establish a presence up top."
The two of them turned down an alley into a small area filled with rotten, shabby-looking prefab housing units.
"The current leader of the Blood Pack on Omega isn't down here, but we're not going to be granted an audience with him unless we bring a gift."
The krogan walked up to one of the prefabs and pulled both his Spitfire and his shotgun out, wielding one in each hand. Galen decided it would be a prudent course of action to follow the krogan's lead.
Garm raised a beefy leg and booted the door of the prefab open. Galen's nostrils were immediately assaulted by the smell of alcohol and old food. Inside were a bunch of cots and four humans sitting at a table playing skyllian five.
All four of them were still staring dumbly at Garm when he took three steps and levelled another kick at the back of the nearest merc. The merc's backplate crumpled with a sickening crunch and he was sent crashing into the table, knocking over the merc sitting on the other side. Garm slammed the barrel of his spitfire into a third merc's face, raining blood and broken bits of bone all over the dirty floor. Galen hit the last merc with an overload bolt that sent him flopping down onto the ground, twitching spasmically as more than a thousand of volts of electricity passed through him.
Garm walked over to the only merc that seemed somewhat conscious enough to answer and planted a massive foot on his chest. The man screamed and struggled vainly to pry it off, but Garm must have weighed at least eight hundred pounds in full armor.
"Are you four the ''Inferno Skulls?" Garm grunted.
All the mercenary could manage was a couple of strangled gasps for air. Garm moved his boot and mercenary immediately began to cough and sputter. Those morphed into a long, panicked inhale as the krogan shoved the bloody barrel of his Spitfire into the merc's face.
The merc he had hit in the face attempted to crawl over to a pistol, but stopped when Garm pointed his shotgun at him. Galen glided over and kicked the weapon away. He then knelt down and gently tilted the merc's blood-covered face up towards his own to get a better look. The human had a number of facial tattoos and it looked like Garm had broken his nose. Galen had never fought a human before, nor had he ever met a human mercenary.
Galen's action had been fueled by fascination and curiosity but the merc clearly had misinterpreted the young turian's innocent intentions. The human began to beg and cry, although Galen couldn't understand a single word coming out of the merc's mouth. What with the broken teeth and all.
"Are you four the 'Inferno Skulls' or not? If you are, I've got some bad news and then some good news. If you're not… then this is all just an unfortunate misunderstanding," the krogan rumbled.
The man currently staring down the barrel of Garm's spitfire gave a trembling, tight-lipped nod.
Garm gave a sigh of relief. "Oh good. For a second there I thought I'd made a mistake. Galen, gather their helmets. Pick up a few of that one's teeth as well. Wait a minute."
The krogan made his way over to the merc he had kicked. "Still alive," he grumbled. Garm stripped the man of a few rings and a necklace. He then went over to the merc that Galen had shocked. That one had two prosthetic fingers, which Garm pulled off the unconscious merc.
Garm tossed Galen a bag, and the turian dumped the four blood-stained helmets into them. Garm then tossed the rings and the fingers. Galen also gingerly scooped up a few of the broken and bloodied teeth lying around with a look of disgust and tossed them into the bag as well.
The krogan then looked down at the mercenaries. Tears stained their fear-stricken faces and the pungent scent of human urine filled the room. "Well, the bad news is your time in Omega is finished. Soon the Blood Pack will believe that you are all dead," the krogan said.
He put away both his shotgun and his spitfire. "The good news is I didn't actually kill you." Garm tossed a few credits down onto the ground. "Book off-station transport tonight. Go home. Or wherever – I don't care. Just don't be here."
The old krogan headed for the door. He stopped at the threshold and turned back around one last time, his good eye flitting around the room to look each mercenary dead in the eyes. "There's nothing for you here but pain. Pain and suffering and death. Leave."
The two departed. A few of the other inhabitants of the nearby prefabs came out to see what all the commotion was. Some were armed and looked ready for a fight, but the sight of Garm in his bloody armor and Galen with his sack filled with their gruesome trophies quickly deterred them.
"As I was saying earlier, the Blood Pack won't give us the time of day unless we bring an offering of sorts. I found out on the local extranet that those four accidentally killed a high-ranking Blood Pack officer the other night at a bar over a game of cards. The Blood Pack put out a bounty on them," Garm explained.
A massive hand came crashing down onto Galen's shoulder, nearly knocking the turian off of his feet. "You did good in there kid. Very fast with the overload and I think your little act with that merc really sealed the deal. Not bad for a turian."
Galen just shrugged, glad that it all worked out. When it came to a fight he acted on instinct almost as often as he acted on his training. It had worked out so far. It had even earned him praises from Cade, and he was a war hero.
"And don't feel sorry for them," Garm added, mistaking Galen's introspective silence for guilt. "We did them a favor. Trust me."
April 7th, 2211 1627 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Sinbad District
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Specialist Sophia Croft, Jaeger Team Two, First Platoon, 7th Jaeger Battalion, Delta Company)
Two humans were having a fistfight in an alley outside of a bar when a third man came up behind one of the two. He struck one of the fighters in the back of the head with a brick. That man went down. The other two exchanged glances and then immediately began to loot the unconscious man. They went their separate ways afterwards, leaving their victim to bleed out onto the dirty pavement.
Sophie let out a shudder. She wondered what would happen to the man. Omega was most decidedly not like her homeworld of Elysium. There was no central government here to establish order. There was no public health system. Unless the man could drag himself to a private clinic or was found and taken to one by a friend or a good Samaritan, that head wound would probably be lethal. Should she do it?
Rayla turned around so she was walking backwards. The asari commando had an amused, confident little smile on her face as she surveyed the tall skyscrapers and the seedy-looking bars that seemed to appear every dozen steps or so.
"It looks like Omega hasn't changed one damn bit since I left," she laughed. "Still a cesspool of degeneracy and filth. Great fun though."
Her eyes traced Sophie's gaze down to the man lying in the alleyway. "Don't you waste an ounce of sympathy on him, girl. If you're dumb enough to go into a fight on Omega with nothing more than your fists then you probably weren't long for this world anyways. Besides, odds are he was a total dirtbag."
Rayla's rather blasé reaction to the wounded man didn't have the same shock value to Sophie as it might have a few hours ago. Sophie hadn't spent much time with the asari commando prior to today as there hadn't been much time to do so on Anhur with the fighting and all, but based on the behaviour and the commentary Sophie had witnessed from Rayla over the past four hours they had spent together on Omega, the Jaeger got the impression that the asari commando was perhaps the closest thing to a true psychopath that she had ever encountered.
When they first landed to begin their mission, Sophie had been shocked when Rayla had laughed at a con man who was being attacked by a group of angry batarians. She had been shocked again when Rayla had casually broken the fingers of a pickpocket who had tried to lift Sophie's credit chit. Then Rayla had used her biotics to throw what looked like a pimp off a nearby balcony. At the very least, Sophie told herself, Rayla's psychopathic tendencies seemed to be directed at more unsavory folk. The commando was also the biggest cynic that she had ever met.
Sophie supposed that she should have just been grateful that someone like Rayla was on her side and not on the other. She had been surprised when Rayla had told her she had specifically requested her help on their mission to contact and win over the local Eclipse gang. The commando had cited her need for someone with a high degree of tech and software expertise, and Sophie had been the only one to fit the bill.
"Have you been here before then, on Omega?"
Rayla did a little twirl, attracting hungry stares from nearby observers. Sophie was a bit envious of her lithe, athletic form. She was envious of both Rayla's and Electra's actually. The Jaeger was shorter and a bit stockier, and her preference for software over weapons or combat training showed even with the Alliance mods. Still, Sophie was combat-fit and she had the advantage of being well-versed in skills that most Jaegers usually weren't. Lieutenant Burton was always saying how he wished their platoon had had a few more Jaegers like her and a few less like Gunnery Chief Teewin, citing the imbalanced muscle-fiber to grey matter ratio in the platoon as a travesty.
Rayla counted on her fingers. "Yeah, spent forty years here actually. I actually took a leave of absence from the commandos so I could join the Eclipse here. I left in what? 2185? Just before the whole Archangel business believe it or not."
She laughed as she recalled old memories. "Just my luck too. I'd just set foot on Thessia when I got the message that Archangel and Shepard had wiped out Jaroth and all of his closest officers. Can you believe that? I was almost killed by the Commander Shepard? How many people alive can say that? Shepard wasn't exactly known for leaving a lot of survivors you know."
"You were in the Eclipse for forty years? How old are you?" Sophie asked in awe.
Rayla had to think about it for a second. "Rentea is what? A hundred? I'm two hundred, give or take a decade. Still a maiden."
"Wow. I hope I look as good as you do when I'm your age."
"You won't," Rayla grinned. "But your life can be so much more meaningful than mine will ever be. It's not how long you've got but what you do with it."
The two eventually made their way into a nicer part of the district that boasted well-lit streets, planters filled with flowers and even small water features. The people here were dressed in cleaner attire and seemed a lot friendlier and more approachable. Sophie didn't see anyone that seemed inebriated out of their minds either. A few children roamed the streets, laughing and playing with a dog.
"The Eclipse like to run a tight ship around here, in the heart of the Sinbad district. Tighter than even the Blue Suns. It can get a bit boring, but it beats getting shot to death five minutes away from home," Rayla said.
"So, do you still have some old contacts in the Eclipse? Is that who we're meeting with today?"
"Maybe. I haven't reached out to anyone specifically. I'm kind of hoping to just show up and see if there's still anyone I know. Hopefully some of my old friends are still around. The life of a mercenary can be quite short if you're an idiot – and I didn't run with any idiots."
The came upon their first Eclipse checkpoint a few minutes later. It was nothing more than two makeshift towers flanking each side of the street, manned by four Eclipse troopers – two salarians and two asari. Rayla waved at them.
All of them were carrying higher-end combat shotguns and submachine guns and all four immediately activated their tech armor. Sophie looked nervously at the heavily-armed and armored quartet. Rayla had her commando armor as well as her pistol and biotics, but all she had was her kinetic shields barrier, her omni-tool, and a pistol, having been told not to bring her Systems Alliance armor.
"Halt!" one of the asari called out. "You're a long way from asari space, commando. What in Athame's name brings you to out to the Terminus Systems?"
Rayla raised both her hands and stepped forward. "Greetings sister," Rayla replid. She then said something in thessian that made the two asari Eclipse members turn to one another. Rayla turned to Sophie. "It's a standard Eclipse code. Meant to tell other members that you were formerly Eclipse. Shouldn't have changed."
The four Eclipse mercenaries looked at one another and exchanged words that Sophie couldn't hear. The asari seemed more relaxed than the salarians, but all four still nonetheless had their weapons trained on the two. A bead of sweat ran down Sophie's neck. The Eclipse were rumored to be some of the most ruthless mercenaries in the galaxy. Sophie had heard that each initiate won their place in the group by committing a murder. Had Rayla done that?
Rayla sighed under her breath and took another few steps forward. "Sister, is Pharah B'Toyle still around?" Rayla asked them.
The lead asari looked at Rayla and shook her head. "Never heard of her."
"Damn, she was an idiot after all," Rayla muttered quietly to Sophie. "How about Essana Dalis?" she called out next.
That name struck a chord with the four. The lead asari lowered her gun. "You know captain Essana?"
Rayla snorted, but thankfully it didn't seem like the mercenaries had heard it. "Yes, her and I go way back. I have some business with her, sister. Could you kindly take me to her?" she asked politely.
The lead mercenary turned to her sister and whispered something. The two began to engage in a silent conversation. After a few moments the other asari nodded. The first asari turned back to the two of them and nodded. "Sure, I can take you to the captain. I cannot however let you bring any weapons. Is that acceptable?"
Rayla pulled out her pistol by the barrel and gestured for Sophie to hand hers over too. Sophie did so reluctantly. Unlike Rayla, she didn't have any biotics to rely on.
The asari merc came down the tower and Rayla handed over their weapons. She gestured for the two of them to follow her. Rayla and Sophie trailed behind her as she lead them deeper into the district. Again, Sophie was struck by how orderly everything seemed here. That the districts paid protection fees was common knowledge, but she never expected that the gangs would provide anything substantial back in return. She wouldn't have imagined it on Omega, but yet again she also never expected that she'd ever end up on Omega either. The galaxy was a strange place that liked to take all the nice, little preconceptions that you had in your brain to help you navigate life and turn them all upside down.
"So, what brings you back to Omega, sister?" the merc asked conversationally.
"Oh you know… just here to see some old friends. See if they have some work for me. Maybe go dancing in a bar or two," Rayla said nonchalantly.
"One of the many perks of Omega," the asari chuckled. "You can be a merc one day and a dancer the next. Entertainment and credits aren't very hard to find here as long as you're willing to use the gifts that the goddesses have given you."
Rayla laughed amicably, even though Sophie personally didn't think what the merc said was particularly funny. In fact, what she said was downright depressing.
"Too right, sister. Dancing and killing. Why should a girl bother with anything else?"
April 7th, 2211 1708 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Gozu District, Blue Suns' Omega Headquarters
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Spectre Operative – 10082181-Elektra)
A squad of Blue Suns met them at the entrance of the district. They had been suspicious at first, wondering why a Captain of their organization would be walking side-by-side with a Spectre, but after they realized who Revak was they had been quick to change their tune, bending over backwards to quickly organize and escort him to a meeting between them and the other Chapter leaders stationed on Omega.
The two passed streets filled with Blue Suns mercenaries coming and going from other districts. Revak had said that the Gozu District was the heart of the Blue Sun's territory here on Omega and the stronghold from which they exercised their control on the neighbouring districts. The district itself Elektra heard had rebounded hard after a synthetic disease ravaged both the population and the mercenary group more than two decades ago, and had since then evolved into a strong hub of commercial activity after the Blue Suns decided to rebuild here. There were bustling stores and decent-looking apartment buildings everywhere, and almost none of the citizens were side-eying the Blue Suns with any sort of malice or discontent. Unlike the area around the docks, this part of Omega felt safer to Elektra. There was order here, even if it was an order that had been imposed by a bunch of gun-for-hires.
Elektra was still amazed by the sheer number of bodies in Blue Suns armor. She had never seen so many Blue Suns mercenaries in her entire life. "I didn't realize there were so many of you here on Omega," Elektra said.
"There are nine chapters quartered on the station last I heard. Some of their captains are known to me, but I have met few of them in person," Revak explained to her. "All of them have their own ships and supply lines. We stopped using a centralized command chain and logistics system decades ago. There are maybe some twenty-thousand Blue Suns in total here on this station, and perhaps three times that in mechanized forces."
The escort squad led them to a large, fortified apartment building that looked like it could hold out against an entire battalion of krogan shock troopers. Mechs and mercenaries lined the makeshift battlements, and the Spectre could see snipers and heavy troopers peaking out from dozens of murder-holes.
Elektra let out a low whistle. "That is a lot of mercs."
They were taken inside past half-a-dozen manned checkpoints into a small waiting room and instructed to wait. At the other end of the room was a set of doors with the Blue Suns insignia stamped onto them. "Some would argue not enough," her friend shrugged. "This is a big place with many dangerous groups. Omega has a population of nearly twenty million people separated into nearly a hundred different districts. The Blue Suns control maybe a quarter of that. The Blood Pack and the Eclipse share maybe another quarter and T'Loak holds just under a half. The rest regularly changes hands between the weaker organizations trying to make their name on Omega."
"Twenty-thousand is not nearly as much as the Suns would have liked to have stationed here," Revak continued. "There is a lot of protection money to be earned and the life of a mercenary can be short and brutal. Still, at least as a mercenary you can decide for what cause and for whom you will fight and die for. Your life is your own and not in the hands of some general on a ship a thousand light-years away."
The thought of being able to do what she wanted to do triggered a sense of longing in Elektra, but she wasn't about to be reduced to some naive, hopeful, star-struck little child just by a few pretty words. She had encountered plenty of mercenaries who had been no more than rabid animals chained to their master's will, fighting and dying for a bit of coin or for a million other different, false promises.
"You paint a pretty picture Rev, but I'm not an idiot. I've seen what it's really like out there. There are plenty of mercenaries who are little more than thugs and I've yet to meet a single mercenary other than yourself who is in it for anything other than the credits and the creature comforts that you can buy with them."
The batarian gave a humorless chuckle. "A fool is still a fool, and whether he is a mercenary or a soldier makes no difference. However, to a prudent individual with both vision and passion, the life of a mercenary can be an effective path to achieving your greatest dreams."
"An individual like you?" Elektra said.
"An individual like me," Revak agreed. "Or at the very least, like Mal was. Mal and the dream he had. The dream I now live for."
Elektra hadn't heard Revak mention his desire for a renewed Khar'shan ever since the Primarch had given him the letter declaring the Hierarchy's support towards the restoration of the batarian homeworld. She wondered if that might ever be completed in their lifetimes. Even now there were still parts of the galaxy that continued to bear the scars of the war. There was Earth for one, and also parts of Thessia and Palaven, and not to mention dozens of colonies.
Still, both Tuchanka and Rannoch had come back stronger than ever, so perhaps there was hope after all. The Quarian and Geth Consortium were developing into quite the scientific powerhouse on par with the salarians and the Krogan Federation had become an industrial marvel once they had learned how to come together under the female shamans. Elektra was hopeful that Khar'shan could also enter such a renaissance under the guidance of Revak and with the support of the Hierarchy.
After a while, the insignia-stamped doors opened and a trooper stuck his head out. "They're ready for you Captain."
Revak nodded and rose from his seat. "And maybe an individual like you too, Drak'Takai," he said to Elektra. "Come, the other captains are waiting."
The two of them pushed past the doors into a tall room with a large, circular table in the middle of it. Long, colorful banners hung from the walls emblazoned with what Elektra took to be the insignias of various Blue Suns chapters. There were dozens of them. Some were lewd, such as the one that had a curvy, asari pin-up girl on it, and some were fearsome like the one that had a three-headed red dragon sitting a field of red. Elektra even spotted the banner for Revak's own company – a silver batarian skull on blue with scorch marks around two of its eye sockets. There was even a funny-looking one with a pyjack holding a Predator pistol.
There were only nine Blue Suns mercenaries seated at the table. The commanders of the chapters stationed on Omega.
A scarred, human female in her late-fifties rose to her feet and spread her arms at the two of them. "Welcome to Omega Captain Ghar'aran, we have heard much about you," she said in an accent unfamiliar to Elektra.
Revak bent slightly forward in a small bow. "Thank you, Captain Ironsi – and likewise. Everyone in the Verge has heard of the Iron Lady." Elektra knew that although the Suns were largely comprised of independent Chapters, certain administrative details were still handled by a Board chaired by high-ranking members of their organization. Revak had never told her whether he was on the Board, or if any of the Blue Suns here were.
She got up and made her way over to Elektra and Revak. The woman was tall and well-muscled, built like a panther and almost as dark as one. "Come!" she waved at a pair of chairs. "Sit. Help yourself to some food and drink!" she pointed at a platter in front of them.
They sat down but neither of them touched either the wine or the meat skewers. Captain Ironski gave them both a knowing little chuckle and poured herself a goblet of wine, snatching up a pair of skewers as well. She then retreated back to her seat and placed her boots up on the table.
Captain Ironsi took a healthy sip and sighed happily. "So, Captain Gha'aran. We have not had any word from either you or the Burned Eyes for weeks. The extranet is rife with rumors, and yet here you are now with neither your ships or your men." The mercenary cocked her eyebrow at Elektra. "And you bring a Council Spectre with you. What brings you here? Do you bring news from the Board?"
Revak removed his omni-axe from his holster and set it against the table. The heavy polysteel handle had been carved with the same batarian script that adorned Revak's chestplate and it drew the eyes of every mercenary in the room.
"Before I answer that, what rumors have you heard, Captain? Do pray tell," Revak rumbled. He set his elbows up onto the table, laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon his hands. His eyes flitted from mercenary to mercenary, sizing them up and taking the measure of them.
"The rumors are that you return from Anhur, captain," another mercenary answered. This one was a light-scaled turian with a prosthetic mandible and forest-green clan markings. "Those same rumors whisper that your brother Malan has fallen."
Elektra glanced at Revak. The batarian closed his eyes and whispered something quietly in Khar'shani that Elektra couldn't hear.
Revak opened his eyes. He set his palms down onto the table and stood up. "He did, Captain Kandris. My brother died on Anhur, saving the lives of its people. He died a hero."
All of the mercenaries dipped their heads respectfully. "I am sorry to hear that. Our deepest condolences, Captain Ghar'aran," Ironsi said sincerely.
"Thank you," Revak nodded, "But I am not here to talk about how my baby brother died. Rather, I am here to talk about what my baby brother has bought with his life."
The mercenary set his hand onto the hilt of his omni-axe and began to trace the carvings with his thumb.
"Malan and I took a commission from the Council to fight against the renegade fleet you've undoubtedly heard about."
"The turn-coat Systems Alliance fleet?" Ironsi asked.
"That one. We took the Burned Eyes to Anhur. We fought them there alongside the Turian Hierarchy."
"Why were they on Anhur, Captain?" asked Captain Kandris.
Revak shook his head apologetically. "That I cannot tell you, but it is a matter of galactic importance. The fleet is now headed here, to Sahrabarik. Even now, my comrades—," he gestured at Elektra, "—and I are attempting to rally the local mercenary forces against them… and to gain permission to bring in a turian fleet to defend the system."
That did it. The Captains began to engage in a heated debate over what possible threat Omega could be facing and why the Council would care enough to ask that a fleet of theirs be brought in. Suspicion, excitement, curiosity, and even fear flew around the room as the mercenaries voiced their thoughts and concerns. The discourse had reached a fever pitch before Captain Ironsi finally raised a stern hand. Silence immediately fell over the table. Such was the influence that the veteran Blue Suns captain had.
"So there is a threat you cannot name and a request to bring a Council fleet into the heart of the Terminus Systems. And what is in it for us, Captain? Never in the history of our organization has the Citadel Council ever chartered our services. Will the Council extend your commission to us?
Revak spread his arms wide. "All that and more. My brother and I were instrumental in saving Anhur and the entire system from total destruction. For our services, the Primarch of Palaven himself gave me a letter to be delivered to the Council—pledging the assistance of the Turian Hierarchy in the restoration of Khar'shan."
That drew the attention of the mercenaries. The first attempt by the remnants of the Hegemony to reconstitute their fallen empire through slavery had been met with condemnation by the Hierarchy. Since then, the Council species had not shown even the slightest interest in assisting the batarians with such. For Revak to obtain such a promise for his actions at Anhur was no mean feat. It spoke to the magnitude of the threat they were facing at Anhur. And of the potential reward for any further assistance the Hierarchy might receive.
"Think, my friends. With the Turian Hierarchy at our backs, we could have Khar'shan restored in our lifetimes – a decade even! And who else shall spearhead the rebirth of Khar'shan but us? The Blue Suns!"
That was it and Elektra knew it. With that final sentence, Revak had pulled them all in. The mercenaries had begun to picture the wealth and the influence that would be theirs when they were at the head of a newly-reconstituted Khar'shan.
"Join me, my fellow captains, and understand this. To stop the renegade fleet here at Sahrabarik is to save the galaxy. We do this for them and we will have everything and anything we could ever want! Nothing would be out of reach! Your dreams will be made your reality!"
A chorus of affirmations echoed across the table as the gilded picture that Revak had painted began to bloom in their mind's eye. The black of Revak's eyes began to gleam as a white-hot fire began to burn behind them. The batarian raised a clenched a fist.
"Malan once dreamed of a restored Khar'shan. That dream is mine now. Mine. But I will not stop there. No – a restored Khar'shan will only be the first of many gifts that I will lay before the ghost of my brother. I swear on my brother's grave I will not stop until I have created a new, batarian empire with the Blue Suns forging the way!"
Elektra knew that ever since Bahak, Revak had lived a half-life. A cursed life. He had believed himself doomed. Chained to Bahak and to the ghost of his crimes, unable to move forward. Unable to be anything except his past. He'd had no plans for the future beyond a good, clean death fighting someone else's war.
It had taken the death of his brother and the bequeathal of his dream for Revak to wake up. Now, Elektra knew, there was no stopping him from bringing about whatever future Revak wanted – be it his brother's future or any other future he could possibly desire.
"Who shall stand with me?" Revak roared.
The table erupted in roars and cheers that would continue to echo in Elektra's ears in the days to come.
April 7th, 2211 1732 hours – Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik System, Omega
Tora District, Sorjak Apartments, 24th Floor, Unit 2442
Data Corruption… Automatic Reconstruction Failed…Data Corruption….Profile Reconstruction Required…
(Spectre Operative 04272182-Cloud)
"Well I'm no detective, but I don't think Risha's been here for a while," Cade said sarcastically, looking around.
I shifted a small pile of clothes sitting beside the door of the apartment with my boot. Beneath it was a small patch of clean floor in an apartment that was otherwise dusty as hell. Dozens of rent-past-due notices and other unpaid bills lay in another pile nearby.
I spotted a row of withering, potted plants lining the windowsill. The apartment was much smaller than Narala's had been and looked older. It was less well-maintained and more rundown, with cracks in the walls and light fixtures that looked as if they predated the Reaper war. There was a small bed, a tiny kitchen unit, a refresher, and a desk crammed into a space that couldn't have been more than a couple dozen meters squared at most. At least there was a window. And a couch.
"Maybe this Risha was a slob. Or maybe she finally found a way off-world and decided to make a clean break of it," I shrugged.
Percival yanked the fridge open and immediately recoiled. The familiar scent of rotten food wafted through the small apartment. He also went over to the single dresser standing in a lone corner of the apartment and opened all the drawers. They were filled with clothes and there were no signs that Risha had packed a bag. "Did I ever tell you what I think about your optimism, Cloud?"
"Yeah yeah, I get it. Cade, do the same thing. Check the cameras. Percival and I will run a search."
Cade nodded and began to head over to the cramped little couch that took up almost an entire wall, but thought better of it when he spotted some old stains that looked even more questionable than the ones on his mustard-trench. My friend decided to just stand beside the door as he accessed the old camera footage on his omni-tool.
It wasn't a large apartment, so I didn't expect it to take very long. Percival rifled through a few of Risha's desk drawers but found nothing but old wrappers and some assorted knickknacks. "You know, if Narala was such a good friend of hers you'd think that maybe she would have Risha out," he said softly.
I booted up the old terminal sitting at her desk. My hacking software cracked it easily and I began to run a search.
"Maybe she didn't know," I replied as I scanned her folders. "Maybe Risha hid her problems from her friend because she didn't want to worry her. Maybe she wanted to deal with her issues herself, on her own terms."
"That's stupid," Percival sighed. "You can't handle everything alone. Your friends should be the first ones you can turn to for help when you need it."
"You're so well-adjusted it sickens me," I teased.
Percival rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass. Find anything?"
I shook my head. "No. Just the same messages from that same messaging platform and a few pirated movies and shows."
"Anything good?" Cade called out. I scoffed and tossed a crumpled, wad of paper that had been sitting on top of the desk at him.
"Damn it," Percival cursed as he sorted through the trash. "Maybe there is no case here. Maybe Risha did finally find a way off-world, contacted Narala secretly, and now they're both on a new colony starting new lives. Just like they talked about."
That was a pleasant fiction. "Are you telling me what you think happened? Or what you want to have happened?"
He threw up his hands. "I don't know, both? This doesn't look like a break-in and why would Risha get snatched? Maybe the two made it out of this place, who knows? It didn't seem like Aria and Narala were on the best of terms – maybe she ran without telling her."
I hoped for my friend's sake that it was that simple. I sighed again and opened a channel to the Excalibur. "Shepard, it's Cloud. You guys find anything?"
"Not much. There's no central authority that might have any permanent records on her. Kasumi checked out the bar she used to work at. It's a pretty mundane establishment. The mercs don't frequent it and their only customers are other Omega residents. The manager said he hadn't seen Risha since she was let go."
"Did he tell you why she was fired?"
"He said times were tough. Kasumi snuck into his office and took a look at his books. His story seems to check out."
I cursed under my breath. Another dead end. "Okay. Can you look into the clinic that Narala worked at? We're not sure what it's called, but we know it's in the Gozu District."
"You got it. Shepard out."
Cade suddenly let out a whistle. "Cade here with the win. Come look at this guys."
We huddled around the omni-tool. My friend began to play footage dated the day of Narala's disappearance.
"See here?" he pointed. I watched as an asari with a purple skin complexion and facial markings walk into view. She was the spitting image of Aria T'Loak.
It had to be Narala. She looked healthy and she didn't appear to be in any sort of visible distress. Narala came up to Risha's door and knocked. There was no answer. After a while she knocked again. This pattern continued for a few more minutes before Narala left with a sad look on her face.
"So she was alive and well the last time any of Aria's men ever saw her. That's good at least," I mused. "Sorry Percival, looks like the two didn't ride off into happily ever after."
"Wait, there's more."
Cade rewinded the tape another day. There was Narala again. She came up to her friend's door, knocked, waited, knocked some more, and left. My friend went back another day, and then a third. Always it was the same. Narala would show up sometime after she presumably got off her shift and would knock on her friend's door. I admired her persistence.
Cade raised a finger. "And there's one more thing," he grinned. He turned off his omni-tool and held up a piece of crumpled-up paper. It was the ball of paper I had thrown at him.
There was a list of five names written on it. Gerdon, Kolem, Binto, Murphy, and Seamus. The first four names had been crossed off but the fifth had been circled. Some were alien but the last two were likely human. Now we were getting somewhere.
"Chances are Narala went looking for her friend. We find Risha we find Narala, and whoever these people on this list are, they may have something to do with what happened to Risha or where she went," Cade crowed triumphantly. "Percival, give me your damn coat! Spirits knows I've earned it. The hat too!"
Cade's assessment was exactly what I was thinking. Percival grabbed the list and peered at it. "You sure they're not baby names? Maybe old boyfriends?"
Cade grabbed it back. "No, but I can rule it out because I'm not some hairless monkey. This was on her desk and I think we would have seen some mention of a boyfriend in the messages between Narala and Risha. Besides, would anyone ever seriously consider naming their kid 'Gerdon'?"
"Ouch. And no."
"Great work Cade, but we've still got a long way to go," I said. I patched back to the Excalibur and gave Shepard the names as well. "Gerdon, Kolem, Binto, Murphy, and Seamus," I repeated. "There must be someone on Omega who knows something about these guys – and Seamus especially."
"Any idea where we should start?"
I rubbed my temples. I could feel the beginnings of yet another headache. "No. But if anyone knows its Aria. We should go talk to her again. See if she knows something about these guys."
"Sounds like a plan," Percival agreed.
"We should find out a bit more about Narala from Aria," Cade suggested. "We need a better psych profile. Now that we know that Narala probably went looking for Risha, if we can just get into her frame of mind we can maybe figure out the path she took. We could finally start tracking her down."
"Won't be easy. Narala's had a week's headstart. Risha has had more. They could be halfway through the Traverse by now."
"Somehow I don't think that will be the case," I shook my head. "They're here. On Omega. I can feel it."
Cade let out a scoff. "Oh so now we're going to base this on our feelings. What's next? Astrology? Maybe you're the one who should be trading coats with me."
I crossed my arms and stared pointedly at my friends. "Come on Cade, you've been on Omega before. Percival, you too."
I turned my gaze towards the window and looked down at the streets below. The people down there went about their lives, trying stubbornly to eke out some semblance of a life on this shitty station. I bet half the people here lived like Risha had and that a quarter had nothing more than the clothes on their back.
"How often does someone like Risha make it out of a place like this?" I said softly.
None of my friends had a reply to that.