A/N: Here's the beginning of a new arc that was promised. I hope you'll enjoy it. ALSO, I finally managed to think of the best way to describe the noises that carvins make! For those who played Starcraft 2, just imagine a mix of zergling and roach noises. Anyway,

Enjoy!

Nemean Abyss, Unknown System

Tortuga atmosphere

2011 Local Time, June 2nd, 2185 Gregorian Calendar

"Keep it simple and short. Don't start fights unless I explicitly say so. We get in, deliver the package, grab the data, and get out." A deep guttural voice of Captain Zarr echoed inside the shuttle. "This is not the first exchange between the Broker and the Empire, so try to keep a level head. Clear?"

"Clear!" A chorus of confirmations responded in unison.

"Good. Lieutenant Or'Zall, as my second-in-command I want you beside me at all times. Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. Do you understand?" Zarr then approached one of the soldiers stacked inside the ship, visibly of higher rank than others.

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Or'Zall replied with a stoic expression.

Zarr nodded before walking away to his position at the front of the shuttle. It was carrying a team of 8 armed troops, as well as a large metal crate in the middle. They were on their way to an unforgiving criminal world of Tortuga on a mission ordered and approved by the High General Council itself, and the captain was clearly intent on seeing it succeed.

Despite his strictness, and the fact that he only knew his first name, lieutenant Irill Or'Zaal had great respect for the man. Old captain, coming well at 600 years of age was a veteran in the Imperial Special Forces, and Irill's commanding officer for the fourth mission into the Terminus Systems. Irill saw with his own eyes how Zarr ripped a krogan's frontal plate off with his bare hands before single-handedly killing 5 other assailants, all in less than 10 seconds. Now he was leading them to facilitate a deal between the Shadow Broker and the Carvin Empire.

Irill Or'Zall himself was nothing to scoff at too, at least in his own eyes. He graduated with honors from the Special Forces Academy on Mantaar and had operated in the Terminus Systems since day 1 of the imperial expeditions into the region. While not as experienced as his superior, he still boasted a significant kill count, especially given that units were regularly rotated in and out of Terminus.

His younger brother, Arill (who was also military), probably thought he was doing pirate suppression just like most troops deployed into the region. But no. All of the men and women on this shuttle were part of "Group Null", an elite force, officially nonexistent, tasked with specific dirty work the Empire was doing in the Terminus. Negotiations with crime syndicates, assassinations of local warlords, hunting down salarian STG contacts, and now securing the deals resulting from the Empire's partnership with the Shadow Broker.

The shuttle shook lightly at the landing, and everyone took this as a sign to move out. They stood up from their seats and readied their weapons, with one of the soldiers pressing a button on the metal crate in between them. The container lightly lifted off from the ground. Captain Zarr too rose from his seat before pressing the door button, revealing the yellowish, dusty surface of Tortuga. As if understanding each other without words, Irill and the other soldiers followed their captain outside, with only two staying onboard for security.

Tortuga was one of these places that Carvin Empire did not yet get to purge from crime and lawlessness. While Bekke was closer and less defended, local 'authorities' of Tortuga made sure that the planet was a tough nut to crack. Not too dissimilar from Omega, it was a magnet for all that was wicked, depraved and corrupted. One could buy anything here, provided they knew the right dealer and the right price. And these sorts of people were not keen on losing their illegally obtained wealth, investing heavily into private security, mercenaries and automated defenses, just to name a few.

Zarr led them outside of the spaceport after paying off the docking clerk. He and Irill were all too familiar with how Tortuga operated, and these few credits provided by Command were what smoothed things over most of the time. Workers and guests of the port alike kept staring at the carvin team, though none dared to approach them. After their previous few yet intense visits to the planet, anyone with two healthy braincells to rub together would think twice before crossing them.

They walked in a tight double line formation into the settlement proper, keeping the levitating box in the center. Barely discernable idle chatter could be heard on the streets, yet it too tended to quiet down as they passed. Sporadic gunfire and screams echoed somewhere in the distance from time to time. Two of the soldiers who never visited Tortuga before looked sharply towards the source of the noise, but were quickly chastised by their more experienced comrades. This WAS the normal of these lands.

Every now and then Irill glanced at the inhabitants of the port, feeling nothing but disgust at what he saw. Local thugs and gangs acting as a perverted sort of police, extorting those who could not resist, while the real criminals were free to do the same and then some. The mix of alcohol, blood, urine and feces burned his nostrils like fire. In one of the alleys he noticed half-naked bodies of asari and human females, all with visible bruises. It did not take a genius to figure out what happened to them.

Irill's hearts burned with hatred towards this place. Not particularly because of his compassion for the oppressed, but because of all the lawlessness and chaos, lack of accountability or any sense of security. He looked forward to the day the Empire burned this place to the ground to build something new and better upon its ashes. Most of all, he hoped to take part in the cleansing.

After a few minutes of walking, Zarr took a sharp turn right towards one of the larger multi-story buildings in the settlement. The neon lights formed letters and words in a language incomprehensible to them without sophisticated translators, it seemed like a bar or club of some sort. They were about to enter, when a krogan bouncer with 2 batarians, a turian and a human suddenly blocked their path. The krogan was the first to speak.

"What do you want here?" He asked with a grumpy voice that made it clear he did not really care about the answer.

"Just business. Step aside." Zarr said, not breaking his stone-cold expression. Irill walked up to him to stand at his side and observed the situation.

"Ha! I'll sooner believe a salarian than you lot." The krogan snarled, with other mercs subtly readying their weapons. "Every time your kind steps foot somewhere, it's nothing but trouble. And boss doesn't want trouble. Bad for business."

"Your boss knows we're coming. We have an arrangement with him and our client." Captain replied, pointing at the flying metal box behind him.

"Hey, Ngarr, you sure you wanna do this?" The human bouncer, with a clearly less confident expression than his superior, nudged the lizardman. "I wouldn't mess with the carvins. Just let them and the boss sort it out. Besides, if they're here for business, the boss will have our asses if we scare away the customers."

"Pathetic human weakling. That's why I'm in charge and you're not." Newly introduced Ngarr glared at his subordinate, before turning back towards them. "And as for you, if you got no invitation, then you're shit out of luck. Get lost or we'll feed you to the varren."

"...So be it." Zarr said after a short pause. He then looked at Irill and lightly gestured at the bouncers with his head.

Without a word, Irill and the other soldiers pulled out their rifles, dispersed their formation, and plugged the thugs full of laser bolts. It was just a split second, then all of their enemies softly tumbled onto the ground. The krogan kept screaming from all the gunshots he received, before a salvo to the head put him out of his misery.

They then aimed at the human with the intention of finishing the job, but the captain rose his fist, stopping them just in time.

"Leave him. He's got good survival instinct, and that's rare in places like these." He ordered, then looked at the terrified human, who at some point during the shoot-out dropped his pistol in fear. "You better look for another job. Too easy to get killed like this."

The human did not reply, but he did not stand in their way either, as the soldiers walked into the building, the box following them. They were greeted by the sounds of music, flashing of lights and tables surrounded by drinking and eating customers. As they noticed the new arrivals however, the atmosphere changed. Irill could feel the intense stares and sneaky glances of the aliens on himself, but he did not act. There was a job to do, and he would not get distracted by whatever these aliens thought of him.

While the rest of their team took positions all around the bar, watching its every corner, he followed captain Zarr to where a batarian bartender was just serving some drinks to a pair of asari. Upon noticing the two carvins, the blue-skinned ladies scoured away with their drinks, but the bartender remained as he was.

"Evening..." Zarr spoke to the batarian who reciprocated the greeting. "I've heard some of you people around here sell high-quality black market medi-gel. I'd like to see what you're offering, and I can assure good payment."

An obvious code phrase. Carvins were biologically incompatible with medi-gel, due to their hyper-aggressive immune system. If any carvin-compatible variant existed, their team would've been outfitted with it for their missions, at least that's what Irill thought. His predictions must have been correct, since the bartender nodded and signaled them to follow him.

"I'll show you the merchandise." He said, prompting the rest of the squad to join them.

The batarian led them through the backrooms of the establishment, until finally they reached what looked to be some sort of cargo elevator. It was not a large one, but just big enough to fit all of them at once with their package. Zarr gestured at Irill and the rest of the team to get in, which they dutifully did.

"The contact is on level -3." Bartender said. He was clearly not going to join them, which suited them just fine. The less witnesses the better. "Once you finish the deal, take the elevator to level -1, turn right at the first intersection and walk straight until you reach the door outside. This should let you leave undetected."

"Understood." Zarr nodded, then stepped into the elevator himself. "If the package or its sender are not there, we'll be back. And you better have explanation ready."

And with a quiet hiss, the elevator doors closed behind them.

Nemean Abyss, Unknown System

Tortuga, Underground meeting point on level -3

2023 Local time, June 2nd, 2185 Gregorian Calendar

"Targets are on their way, boss." A soldier clad in yellow Eclipse mercenary armor said, his helmet slightly distorting his voice.

"Good. Everything's in place. Proceed as planned." Came the reply from a large, bulky salarian, who towered over everyone in the room.

Tazzik, Shadow Broker's only true enforcer, was not present during this exchange without a reason. While all the previous deals that Broker made with the carvins had a security detail as well, this one was truly something else. Apart from himself, a dozen armed mercenaries were waiting in the room. Most carried assault rifles or heavy pistols. Still, their presence annoyed Tazzik more than it reassured him.

Last time I worked with someone like this, that drell scumbag and the blue asari bitch stole Broker's merchandise meant for the Collectors. He bitterly thought, remembering one of his very few stinging failures during his long career as Shadow Broker's first hitman. I swear, if this goes wrong, I'll flay them alive before the carvins get to.

There was a reason for this level of security. For the first time since they made contact with other races, Carvin Empire committed to a major technology exchange, sending one of its advanced energy shield designs to trade with the Shadow Broker for a data cache containing intel with strategic information about the four major Council races. Intel that allegedly could at least partially compromise security of every major player in the galaxy besides carvins themselves.

But Tazzik did not care. He only cared about results, and after his humiliation on Alingon, he would not allow himself to displease the Broker anymore. Carvins would get their intel, the Broker would get the equipment, and Tazzik intended to kill anyone and everyone who got in the way of this exchange.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, the elevator door in front of him has opened, and a faint smile appeared on Tazzik's face. Out of the elevator came 6 carvin troopers, all completely covered by their armored suits. Not even their long jaws were exposed, and the few weak lights that barely illuminated the room they were in added to their threatening visage. Between them, a large metal container was levitating as they led it into the room. Leader of the carvin group stepped forward, staring deep into Tazzik's eyes.

"We've got the package. Now it's your end of the bargain." He said. The fact that his eyes were covered made him look slightly more soulless than other carvins Tazzik saw on recordings before.

"I want to see it. We know you've played countless buyers in the Terminus before. Shadow Broker will not suffer you backstabbing them." Tazzik demanded, remaining as calm as he was before.

Some of the carvin soldiers glared at him from under their masks, with one of them letting out a low growl. But their leader silenced them with a stern gesture, then spoke to them in a dialect that his translator did not catch. One of his subordinates approached the box and pressed a button on the panel located on its side. After a short beep, the cover split into two and slid away, revealing a strange device. It did not look like anything remotely recognizable, but it did not have to. What mattered was if it was functional.

"Does it work?" Tazzik asked, not ready to take any chances with the carvins.

Their leader activated his omni-tool, tampered with it for a moment, before the machine let out a low hum, indicating it was on. Shortly after, a thin, barely visible green layer appeared around the device and its container. As if to demonstrate, the carvin leader pulled out his sidearm, aimed it at the device and pulled the trigger.

*BZZEW*

The protective layer suddenly brightened up where the laser bolt hit and absorbed its energy before returning to its previous color, while the device remained intact.

"Now your turn. I want to see the intel." The leader spoke after resealing the container with the shield generator.

Tazzik was about to give him a glimpse of the information contained inside the data cache, when his earpiece started beeping. Not wanting to delay the exchange he turned towards one of the Eclipse mercs. "Show him some of the data. Not too much. I need to respond to this."

With that he walked away a relatively safe distance from the group. In corner of his large eye he saw the exchange taking place, but right now his focus was on whoever was trying to contact him. After backing away enough that eavesdropping would be incredibly difficult, he opened the channel.

"This is Shadow Broker." A distorted, encrypted voice that Tazzik was all too familiar with spoke through the earpiece. "The parameters have changed. The deal is over, there are other more willing buyers for this data."

"Understood." Tazzik replied, and was about to walk back to the group to interrupt the exchange, but was stopped by the earpiece again.

"New mission parameters. Eliminate the carvins and acquire as much of their equipment as possible." Broker continued. "Armor and heavy weaponry are a priority. Do not let them get the word back to their superiors, and DO NOT damage the original merchandise."

After that the earpiece then went silent, leaving the salarian with his thoughts.

The Broker put him into a very difficult situation. Even though he was confident in his own abilities, he was less so in the skill of the helpers he had been assigned. Before this mission, Tazzik watched some extensive footage of carvin fighting styles, and the prospect of a confrontation was not at all pleasing. Still, he had his orders and he would carry them out. Besides, he was prepared just for this eventuality.

In an event of betrayal, the intel cache (which was approximately half the size of the container that the carvins have brought) had a hidden overload emitter underneath that could be activated if needed. Its strength was enough to short-circuit an entire building if needed, but Tazzik only required the carvins to be subdued for long enough to kill them.

Despite his reservations about his task, he turned around and reached for the overload detonator located in one of his pockets, all the while securing a firm hold on his M-100 grenade launcher. In such an enclose space it was risky to use it, but then again so was letting a carvin get too close.

He came back just in time. The carvin leader finished inspecting the contents of the datapad provided to him by the merc, and his posture relaxed ever so slightly. He turned towards him, emanating with much less hostility than before. "Everything seems in order. Let's get this over with."

"Yes, let's..." Tazzik nodded and signaled two of his helpers to pass on the full data cache to the carvins.

Two floating containers went the opposite ways and the deal was done... or so the carvins thought. After giving a nod of acknowledgement from their leader, they started moving the data cache into the elevator. However Tazzik had other plans. When they were just far enough that the overload did not hit his own men, he pulled out the detonator and pressed the button.

In an instant the charges under the data cache let out a flurry of lightning, electrocuting every carvin soldier in its vicinity. The lights started to furiously flicker before shutting down completely, making it difficult to make sense of what was going on. Vicious screeches of the carvins filled the room, only to die down after a few seconds. There was no movement.

"Kill them. Broker's orders." Tazzik said to his men, who dutifully approached the now defenseless carvins laying on the ground.

Loud bangs echoed through the near total darkness brought upon by the overload blast. The few carvin soldiers that started to move were quickly put out of their misery by a bullet to the head. It was not the cleanest of ops that the Broker had ordered, but certainly not the dirtiest in its execution. Tazzik walked up to inspect the bodies, and seeing the result of his trap, a feeling of relief washed over him. No carvin was moving. They all seemed to have perished.

"We're taking one with us. Get one of them into one of the cargo crates lying around. It's a storage room after all. Dump any contents if you have to. " He ordered as he walked among the corpses. "Notify the support group, tell them to meet us at the por-"

He was interrupted as a cold, metal hand took hold of his left foot. Before he could even react, a sudden powerful force pulled on his leg, knocking him off balance completely. In a split second that followed, one of the carvin 'corpses' seemingly rose up from the dead and was just about to pounce at him.

Thinking on the fly, Tazzik made a risky decision to fire his grenade launcher at the carvin at pretty much point blank range. He pulled the trigger, and the weapon kicked in response.

The projectile traveled barely a meter before hitting his enemy square in the chest. Explosion shook the room and knocked the assailant back, giving Tazzik a few seconds of break. His own barriers barely held on, standing only at 4%.

But just when he thought he was safe, the carvin let out a terrifying shriek. Eclipse mercenaries immediately opened fire, but the alien seemed to have shrugged off the bullets as if they were made of paper. He dashed towards the nearest merc and delivered a punch that send the victim flying backwards. He then dropped to all fours, and his spiky tail suddenly started to rapidly spin like a sawblade... only for the spikes to suddenly shoot out of the tail and hit another mercenary all across his chest.

It was at that moment that the carvin looked back at Tazzik, and the salarian could finally see his enemy more clearly. Two out of the outer three jaws that carvins normally had were seemingly ripped off by the impact of the grenade launcher, and the chest armor was mangled and shattered in several places. Tazzik also recognized the now unnaturally deformed rank insignia of the carvin leader on his foe's shoulder.

Knowing that he was outside of the blast zone now, he fired his M-100 again, but the carvin dodged it somehow, despite clearly being hurt badly. Other mercs kept firing all the while getting ever closer to their target. Tazzik cursed their idiocy, as one of them got too close, allowing the carvin to grab him. The alien then secured a hold on the merc's neck before flailing the body around in an attempt to block incoming shots.

Tazzik realized that the situation was rapidly getting out of control and so he aimed his grenade launcher again. But as if reading his mind, carvin leader snapped back towards him and started sprinting forward, with the lifeless body in front of him as his shield. Tazzik fired and this time the shot connected, blowing away the meat shield and staggering the carvin. Still he knew that he couldn't fire grenades at closer range, reaching instead for his Carnifex sidearm and aiming at his adversary.

Meanwhile the carvin had recovered from the explosion, and after pulling out a combat knife jumped at him with a rageful expression. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*SLASH*

Blood briefly gushed out of the Tazzik's face, causing him to stumble. Meanwhile the carvin collapsed onto the ground next to him, a puddle of his own blue blood slowly expanding where he fell. For a good measure, Tazzik pumped an entire thermal clip worth of shots into the corpse. It did not move anymore.

"You alright, sir?" One of the mercs approached him, extending his hand to help him up.

"Get off me!" Tazzik snapped, slapping the hand away. "And inform the support group to meet us at the spaceport! No carvin is getting of this world as long as I draw breath!"

"What about the rest of the bodies?" Another asked as two of his friends were dragging an undamaged corpse into an empty crate.

"What about them? This is a bar, on Tortuga of all places. There must be an incinerator somewhere to dispose of the food and dead customer remains." Tazzik rolled his eyes. "Find it and dump them there."

It took a moment but he patched up the stinging wound across his face with some medi-gel. Now all that was left was to destroy the carvin ship.

He would not fail the Broker again.

Nemean Abyss, Unknown System

Tortuga, Storage room on level -3

2049 Local time, June 2nd, 2185 Gregorian Calendar

Irill was dead.

Or was he? He truly couldn't tell.

His body felt weightless, as if drifting through the cold vacuum of space. His head was a mess and the only thing he could remember now was his name. The rest was just snippets and flashes, nothing remotely discernable.

*SMASH*

Something suddenly shook him violently, and the feeling of weightlessness vanished. The memories were starting to come back. He remembered his brother, Arill, who had second kid just two years ago... a son. He also remembered a mission. A task he... no, they had to complete. He had a team. And a leader. He was a soldier in the Imperial Army.

*SCREEEEECH*

*CRASH*

Another, more violent shake, and Irill felt an agonizing wave of pain. Nothing, not even the worst corporal punishment during training, could have truly compared to the level of suffering he was going through. But the pain also cleared his mind. The memories were rapidly coming back. Tortuga... mission... Shadow Broker... a deal... betrayal...

Soon he heard voices around him. It was not in xaltari, nor in caranogri. They were different... alien. Something in the back of his head seemed to tell him that he understood those words, but now they meant nothing to him.

And then he heard fire. The cracking noises of burned material, the hiss of fat being burned out of the meat, and the smell. All of it felt familiar. At one point his vision became brighter, but something was off about it. It was... incomplete.

"Ugh! Okay just two more." One of the voices spoke, and this time Irill managed to understand. "Damn, these bastards are heavy."

His senses were coming back to him, and Irill realized that his vision WAS incomplete. That the pain was coming from his left eye, and it burned as if someone was pressing white hot embers to his skull.

Suddenly he felt heavy. Something or someone picked him up and was now swaying him to the sides.

"Such a shitty job. Remind me not to ever sign a contract with the Broker." The voice spoke again.

"Just throw him inside and be done with it." This time a different voice echoed in his ears.

Irill was now clearly feeling the heat, but he couldn't move. His limbs would not respond to his will, no matter what he tried. His right eye opened slightly and he could see glimpses of bright orange. Fear was taking over. He was about to be burned alive. There HAD to be something he could do.

"Neural activity detected. Emergency hydrogen cells activated." A synthetic voice rang in his earpieces.

In an instant Irill regained control of his limbs. Not knowing exactly where he was or who the voices were, he started to wildly flail his arms, legs and tail in every direction.

"Shit! It's alive!" The owner of the first voice screamed, and suddenly Irill felt the gravity pulling him downwards.

*THUMP*

The impact must have jump-started his nervous system to full capacity, because whatever blur and unresponsiveness in his body remained, they were now gone. He quickly, if awkwardly, rose back to his feet and finally identified the source of the voices.

In front of him, next to a giant blood-covered crate, stood two yellow-armored human mercenaries, chaotically scrambling for any weapon. They did not have their rifles with them, but both carried pistol sidearms. Letting his instinct take over, Irill lunged at them, letting out a furious screech. He snapped the neck of the first merc, then made a wide swipe with his left arm at the other one, knocking the pistol out of his hands. With his enemy defenseless, he collapsed upon the bastard, and in an unrestrained primal fury, buried his teeth in the human's throat. After a moment, the merc stopped squirming and his body went limp.

Irill released his teeth from the human, still panting heavily as he stood up. His limbs felt heavy. While the emergency power cells made it possible for him to move, it would take time for the batteries to resume work properly. He reached for his eye, trying to check its condition, only to feel that a part of it was missing. Any horror that he previously felt from that possibility was replaced by anger. These backstabbers really did partially blind him.

Knowing that an untreated wound such as this was deadly, Irill quickly searched his pockets. A lot of what he used to have seemed to be missing (likely looted from him by the mercs), but after a moment he pulled two small objects that he was looking for: a blood injection and a medical paste tube. He immediately used the former, injecting spare blood into one of the special ports in his arm. Now came the painful part. He glanced at the paste tube with great hesitation.

It was quite similar to medi-gel, but was purely synthetic and did not accelerate healing. However it could still seal injuries, disinfect wounds, and act as an anesthetic. Slowly and carefully, Irill applied the paste to whatever remained of his left eye.

"GAHHHHH!" He stifled a scream of pain. If the burning before felt like hot embers, the paste applied to such a vulnerable tissue felt like he was touching the surface of a star with his eye.

The pain was so bad that Irill had almost collapsed, but summoning the strength of past experiences and struggles, he endured. He was safe... for now.

The mission... I need to notify Command of this betrayal. He thought, still trying to collect his thoughts through the excruciating pain. He reached for his earpiece and tried to activate it, only to hear an error sound. His comms were likely killed by the overload blast. He had to go on foot.

There was no way for him to reach the shuttle without a weapon. Irill inspected his surroundings, but no carvin gear was close. That salarian must have taken their rifles with him. Fortunately just a few steps away were the two assault rifles of his now dead enemies. He slowly walked towards them, took one and emptied it of its thermal clips, before inserting all of them into the second rifle. He had received basic training in the operation of most commonly available alien weapons, and they all worked on the same principle. It wasn't hard to figure out.

"It'll have to be enough..." He said out loud, then looked around, trying to find an exit.

Nemean Abyss, Unknown System

Tortuga, Spaceport in Sector 17

2049 Local time, June 2nd, 2185 Gregorian Calendar

It's been some time since captain Zarr's detachment of Group Null has reported in, as the pilot of the shuttle was still listening on all encrypted military frequencies of the carvin military in case of a sudden report. This unexplained radio silence was slowly starting to cause visible unease in the remaining two of the soldiers on guard duty.

The pilot was less concerned than they were. It was not the first time that he brought Group Null onto Tortuga, and there were instances before of Zarr's men going silent for extended periods of time. The Shadow Broker had proven to be a reliable buyer and seller up until this point, so it didn't have to mean anything. Nonetheless it was still unusual that they have not announced a possible radio silence beforehand.

"Still nothing?" One of the soldiers walked inside the cockpit.

"Nothing. Just standard static." Pilot replied.

"Shit... they're gone for quite some time now. Maybe we should go there and check it out." The trooper suggested.

"Absolutely not. You have your orders and you will follow them." Pilot sternly answered, although privately he shared the soldier's concerns.

The soldier did not push the issue further and obediently walked out of the cockpit, returning to his post outside. But doubt was slowly creeping inside the pilot's head. Perhaps something really did happen... but the Nulls would notify them of any trouble... right?

He wrestled with his emotions for a while, before finally making a decision. Opening the channel meant for emergencies, he adjusted his helmet and microphone.

"Detachment Zarr, this is Shuttle 1174. What's the status of the transaction?" He spoke, trying to sound as calm and professional as possible. If it was just false alarm, he'd get chastised for needlessly using emergency comm channels.

No response. Only static came through. The other two soldiers standing outside, visible through the glass of his cockpit, were clearly tense. They were clearly listening for any reply, but there was nothing.

"Detachment Zarr, this is Shuttle 1174, do you read?" Pilot tried again, but was met with the same cold dead static.

"We should warn command. This is unlike them to just leave us hanging like that." One of his guards suggested.

"Agreed." His friend added, also visibly concerned for the rest of the team.

Faced with a possibility of betrayal by the Shadow Broker, the pilot closed the short-ranged radio channel and activated the ship's long-ranged comm suite. He quickly connected the ship to the extranet and the nearest comm buoy. There was a cruiser waiting for them at the edge of the system in order to not arouse any suspicion. The comm buoy network was the only reliable way to communicate with them.

As he prepared to establish a link with their cruiser though, something weird started going on. People around the port began acting strange. They started staring at their shuttle way more than they did before, as well as kept glancing at something outside of the spaceport. His guards must have noticed them too, since they readied their weapons and scanned the area more intensely.

Finally, with the connection established, the pilot opened the channel with their mothership. "This is Shuttle 1174 to CES Travalaan, do you copy?"

After a short while the response came loud and clear. "Shuttle 1174, this is CES Travalaan. You're reporting in quite late. What's your status?"

"We have not received any report from the main force of Detachment Zarr since their departure. Any attempts to contact them have produced only static." Pilot explained, looking now with serious concern at the increasingly restless bystanders.

"Do you suspect foul play by the Shadow Broker?" Travalaan's commander asked.

"There was no sign of combat around the spaceport or the settlement. It's possible that Detachment Zarr was ambushed a the transaction site." Pilot answered.

"Understood, Shuttle 1174. Treat Detachment Zarr as compromised or MIA. You are to exf-"

*BOOOOOOOOM*

Nemean Abyss, Unknown System

Tortuga, Backrooms on level -2

2109 Local time, June 2nd, 2185 Gregorian Calendar

Come on, just a bit more... Irill thought, as his legs were slowly becoming less and less responsive while he was walking.

Emergency hydrogen power cells of carvin cybernetics were usually meant to jump-start the machinery disabled by EMP blasts, not to be the main source of power for long periods of time. But he had lost a lot of blood, and his own nutrient reserves were clearly running dangerously low. There was not enough energy to go around.

Still, he had to keep moving.

He vaguely remembered the instructions on how to leave undetected told to him by the bartender, and after finding his way to level -1, he kept limping through the dark grey hallways of the establishment's backrooms. It was weird that a bar like this had so much space outside of the standard customer areas. Were all of the larger facilities on this planet built like this.

At some point Irill started hearing voices next to and behind him. Not anything discernable, and probably just some of the staff working on... whatever they were supposed to be working on. But it meant that he had to move faster, or he'd be discovered. As far as he was concerned, the establishment may have been in the leagues with the Broker. Everyone was a potential enemy.

Irill made a risk and picked up the pace, going from slow but energy efficient limping to slow, yet still faster, jogging. The rifle started to weigh more and more heavily on him, but despite this he pressed on. According to the bartender's instructions, the secret exit was not far.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he stopped in front of the door that was supposed to lead back to the surface. Slowly, so as to make as little noise as possible, Irill pressed the doorknob, and the cold wind of the night hit his face. A feeling of relief washed over him. The bartender did not double-cross them.

He quickly left the building and found himself somewhere in a dense settlement area. The streets were narrow and cramped with all sorts of equipment, home appliances, and the sort. Good thing they were mostly devoid of wandering inhabitants, as most of them were likely already sleeping. Still, there were some people outside, and even without his squad, Irill would stick out way more than he was comfortable with.

Despite his unease, he somehow made his way to one of the wider streets. He tried to stick to the edges so as to not draw attention, but there were still people glancing at him from time to time.

"Argh... damn it." He grunted after almost tripping over the rocky ground. The unbearable pain of his left eye was reduced to a mild pulsating, meaning the anesthetic effects of the medical paste were working. But it also made his entire head go somewhat numb. He found it harder and harder to keep his balance.

"Are you lost?" A deep reverberating voice came from behind him.

Instinctively Irill turned around and pointed his rifle at the source, only to come face to face with a turian in civilian clothes, leaning against the wall of one of the buildings. The man was unarmed, and the carapace on his face had multiple cracks, which Irill with his current state of mind could only link to old age.

"None of your business..." He growled.

"Oh you're lost alright. Can't find your kind alone. You carvins always travel in packs, like vorcha but much more dangerous." The turian remarked, his voice seemingly indifferent to his suffering.

Now seriously angry, Irill pressed the barrel of his rifle to the turian's cheek. "What stops me from pulling the trigger and blowing your brains out right here and right now?"

To his surprise the man just laughed. "Your ship was destroyed. Eclipse came through some time ago and blew it up. You're stuck here with the rest of us. And given that you don't have any buddies with you, they too probably had unfortunate incidents."

Irill froze. The muscles he still had tightened and his jaws twitched. He had no reason to believe the alien, and yet he felt it to be true. But his instincts, the rabid, wild and untamed part of his mind, one that was screaming to be let out against the turian in some sort of twisted form of petty revenge, refused to accept that. Using every ounce of willpower he had, Irill lowered his weapon.

"Show me." He uttered through his almost fully clenched jaws.

"You'll find nothing but wreckage and corpses there, if even that. And besides, you're stuck here. Your best choice is to learn the-" Turian remarked disapprovingly, only to be interrupted by the barrel of a rifle stuck at his face once again.

"SHOW... ME..." Irill demanded, an unrestrained hatred seeping through his voice. "Or I will rip off your mandibles and force you to eat them."

The alien slowly lifted his hands up in a gesture of defeat, before gesturing at the carvin to follow him. Irill did not restrain him again, though he still kept his rifle ready to gun him down if he tried anything. There would be no backstabbing this time.

His newfound turian friend led him through the open streets. Irill obviously expected a possibility of being led into a trap once again, but as the time went on, the surroundings were becoming vaguely familiar. At one point he could have safely said that he walked this path before.

It took a few minutes, but the bustling bright area of the spaceport slowly came into view, and Irill's nostrils picked up a faint smell of burning fuel.

"Move faster." He poked the turian with his rifle, and despite the fact that his own legs were still recovering from the shock caused by the overload, both of them picked up the pace.

Several bystanders looked at him and their expressions shifted from surprise to fear, before scouring away to whatever area was out of his sight. Despite the supposed demise of his team, they still felt fear at his sight. They knew what resistance against the Empire had wrought, and had Irill not been in the state he was in, he would have shot them all on sight as an example of what happened to those who betrayed the carvins.

But his feelings of disgust and contempt for the inhabitants of Tortuga vanished in an instant when he walked into the spaceport himself... only to see a black burning wreckage where their shuttle used to be. A weak scent of carvin blood could be felt in the air, as Irill's arms went limp. He no longer cared for the turian, nor the possibility of betrayal from him.

The only thing on his mind was the burnt down, clearly partially scavenged and scrapped, wreckage of the ship that brought him here. Irill's hearts ached. His knees were on the verge of giving away, while his fists were shaking. Pain and guilt of being the only damn survivor of the ambush washed over him. Why did they all had to die? Why wasn't Zarr the one to survive. He would have known what to do.

For all Irill knew, there was no way for him to return home. Even if his superiors realized what happened, a local gang of thugs could probably take him down in his current weakened state.

"I told you nothing here would make you feel better. This place is like Omega. You can only trust your own abilities." The turian approached him from behind and put his hand on Irill's shoulder. "And I think you and I could make a pretty good team. I could use someone with your abilities."

This snapped Irill back to reality. He immediately pulled out his combat knife, shook off the alien's claws, before plunging the blade into the exposed chest of his now ex-guide. The turian only managed to let out a grunt of pain, as he stared first at the knife now stuck in his torso and then at Irill, with a face of shock, confusion and betrayal.

"Why..." He whimpered, while his body was rapidly becoming more and more limp.

"You have outlived your usefulness." Irill growled, yanked the blade out of the turian's chest, letting him tumble lifelessly to the ground, then finally grabbed his rifle and shot a full thermal clip into the corpse. "And I WILL NOT BE USED BY SCUMBAGS LIKE YOU!"

He kept panting heavily as the last of the bullets connected with the now motionless body, before punching out the used thermal clip out of his weapon. The force of impact was so hard, that had he used more force, the impact would have likely broken the gun beyond repair. It was admittedly overkill, and a huge waste of ammo, but Irill did not care. He needed an outlet for his pain, frustration and anger, which he needed to think clearly.

Having calmed down somewhat, Irill took a long look at his surroundings. There were still a number of ships in the spaceport. All he had to do was hitch a ride on one of them.

And... 'convince' the pilot to fly him to CES Travalaan.

A/N: Okay, the ending of this chapter was a bitch to write. I had to rewrite it 3 separate times because it was so shit. It's still not perfect, but I don't have any better idea on how to end this chapter. I get a feeling that the next chapter will be easier to write, but because I kept rewriting the ending, I haven't started writing it yet. On the plus side, I'm quitting my job on the 1st of July, so I'll have more time to write (yes, I'm doing this trope again, but I refuse to give up on this story, and I'll do anything possible to NOT disappear for a full year once again). Carry on.

Bonker out!