You know, for whatever reason, in my head four hundred meters doesn't sound like that much.
Not that it's small or anything, just that it seems manageable.
But I didn't take into consideration the fact that it was larger then almost every earthborn sea faring ship!
I clung to the side of a wall to avoid the stream of weapons fire sent my way. Several of the Broker's guards were positioned behind a ramshackle barricade as they poured down suppressing fire.
Long hallways with no branching paths leaves little room to maneuver. At first I thought the base's layout was this way so the defenders could funnel attackers into prepositioned kill zones. One long hallway, no cover in between, it all seemed simple enough. But my discerning eye can tell this was more a happy coincidence than intentional design.
I charged forward a short distance, their shots draining my barrier enough that I had to veer off and take cover again. A single biotic 'push' into the wall made an intent big enough for me to scamper into for at least some cover while my barrier recharged.
Their barricades are made of overturned desks and office junk, not dedicated barricades rising up from the floor like panels at choke points. No internally mounted defenses, like high caliber auto cannons coming down from the ceiling, to aid the defenders.
Hell, this place didn't even have a dedicated air system to vent all the air in the besieged sections of the ship to choke out any attackers. Or better, pump poison gas in! I mean sure, it probably wouldn't work on me since I was in a sealed hardsuit with its own air scrubbers and oxygen, but it would have been something.
Not that I'm complaining of course.
Just making note of all the changes I plan to make when I take over.
After a soft chime telling me my barriers were fully recharged, I charged towards the barricade again. I was able to cross the 'no mans land' before their concentrated fire drained by shields again. Appearing right at the barricade, I sent a massive biotic blast that sent both the Broker's people and the junk they were hiding behind flying across the hallway.
Even as they slammed into everything from the walls to the ceiling like a troop of ragdolls, I fired into them refusing to give them a chance to get back up. It was almost like shooting fish in a barrel, except one of the 'fish' decided to jump out of the barrel and attack me.
The aforementioned 'fish' being a commando who managed to recover from my biotic display and counter charge me. She tried to gun me down at point blank range with her own shotgun. The blast nearly blew out my barrier in a single shot.
I managed to grab the gun and force her aim to the ground before the next pair of shots rang out in quick succession, followed by a tell tale hiss of overheating.
Swinging my own gun so the barrel was pressed against her chest, using my grip on her own weapon to hold her in place, I fired a single shot into her. The slug shattered her barrier and bored through her suit front to back.
She slumped backwards, dead before even hitting the floor.
Before advancing further, I noticed a door to the side of the barricade. I glared at the offending object. If I had a credit for every time I walked past a seemingly 'empty' room only for the occupants to jump out and take a cheap shot at me from behind, I would have two credits.
Two too many if I say so myself.
Tsking under my breath, I waved my omni-tool and used one of those nifty hacks Lynxya gave me to do a quick sweep and clear. If it was in fact empty, then I only wasted a few seconds. If there were some nerdowells getting ready to pull a fast one on little old me, then it would be empty in a few seconds.
The door chimed moments later, sliding open.
I almost gave into my first instinct of pulling the trigger when I saw several figures moving, but I'm very glad I practiced some restraint.
The room was filled with people, but none of them were guards.
They all huddled towards the back of the room, staring in almost pure silence like deers caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Almost as if they were seeing their lives flash before their eyes.
This was probably a shelter or fallback point for the staff that maintained the Broker's ship, the guards outside could have been meant to protect them rather than stop me. Then again, this place could just be on the way to the Broker's office.
Ugh… If only I had some directions to work off of-
Wait! That's it!
"Um…hi?" I awkwardly say to the assembled crew, lowering my gun to at least calm them down a little. I am not in the habit of just gunning down unarmed people who were doing their best to stay out of the fighting; even if I doubt any of these people are squeaky clean given they are on the Broker's ship. "So um… do you guys, like, know where the Broker's office is?"
Low risk, high reward questioning.
No one said a word initially, then the tell tale weezing of a volus broke the silence.
"You're close to it," he wheezed, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others. "Take the first right after this room, the Broker's office will be at the end of the hall, past interrogation."
"What are you doing, Nohrn?" one of the other staff spoke up.
"Speeding things along," the volus countered. "Or what? You want this to go on for another few hours?"
"The Broker will kill you for this," another hissed.
"Kill me? Why? For pointing this woman to where she was already going, or for minimizing collateral damage in her searching? Or do you think he'd rather this woman tear the ship apart looking for him?"
"For pointing an assassin towards him."
"This situation has only two outcomes, success or failure," he took a wheezing breath. "Either way, it ought to end soon. Operations are being disrupted by this… incident."
"How very kind of you." I chimed in. "And thanks and all, but quick question: which side are you on?"
"Side? Curious choice of words. Isn't it obvious? I'm on the winning side, of course."
"Okay… but which side do you think that is," I pressed him.
"...I don't mean any disrespect, but aren't you in a rush to find the Broker?" he gestured to the door with his little volus hands.
Oh so that's how it is. I kill the Broker, he'll be in the new one's good graces. If I die, or fail, then the Broker thanks him for, in his own words, 'speeding things along'.
Well fuck you too little weezing man.
I say nothing as I leave, the door closing on its own behind me.
Following the volus's directions, first left, then right, then past interrogation, I came across what looked like a reception area. A desk, coffee table, big door, and a trio of guards beside it. Two asari, one turian. None of them hesitated opening fire when they saw me.
Two of them layed down covering fire while one of the commandos ripped a chair out of the wall and chucked it at me with biotics.
I 'caught' it mid air with biotics and dropped it harmlessly on the ground. 'Harmless' to me at least, it dug deep into the floor panels and made one hell of a banshee's wail as metal scratched against metal.
I could have thrown it back at them, but I was a little preoccupied.
I biotically charged into the woman who tossed that at me, throwing her into the wall with a satisfying crunch as I reappeared beside her comrades. The turian emptied what felt like an entire magazine (metaphorically of course) into my barriers, draining it down well into the red, as I double tapped the other commando with point blank shotgun slugs. In short order, I spun around and gunned down the turian, and put an additional round into the woman I charged into to make sure she stayed down.
Can't be too careful with commandos; I was the case and point afterall.
As for the last door separating me from seeing the Broker.
I waved my omni-tool, hoping for it to crack through this door like all the others. Maybe with a bit more of a struggle.
But nothing happened.
Not that nothing happened when the hacks were used, but nothing was even transmitted. And nothing was transmitted since there was nothing to transmit to.
In short, the door had no power. It must have been shut earlier, then had all the power to it cut.
Wonderful…
Just…Wonderful.
Okay then….Plan B I guess.
Fiddling with my omni-tool I started manufacturing a small shaped charge with stuff I could salvage off the dead guards. Not my first, or second, choice to use explosives without knowing exactly where I was in a pressurized environment, but needs must I suppose.
No sooner did I finish making my small explosive did some unseen speakers crackle to life.
"Why are you doing this?" It was a deep, modulated voice that boomed across the hallway. "What point does this senseless destruction serve?"
"Oh hey, Shadow Broker, nice to finally speak to you. Just give me a minute and we'll be able to speak face to face," while the voice came from various hidden, and not so hidden, speakers, I was looking for where the big man was watching me from. Sadly, whatever camera he was looking at me from was well hidden. "Unless you want to be a gentleman and open the door?"
"I don't believe I like the tone of your voice," he was having none of my sas it seemed.
"And I don't like getting shot at, so let's just call it even." I shrug, taking the completed charge and placing it on the door, "just trying to kill some time."
"Do you truly think this is a joking matter? After all the destruction and death that you have wrought-"
"Yeah whatever," a safe distance away I detonated the charge. The explosion brushed against my barrier, and billowed out smoke and fire.
It cleared in short order, but the results were less than ideal. The metal warped a bit from the blast, but it was still intact enough to be in place.
I bit the inside of my cheek and let out something between a groan and a sigh.
So it's going to be like that is it? I move to the dead commandos and check them for explosives.
"What are you doing?" the speakers flared to life again, though far less booming; guess the blast got a bunch of them.
"Making more," I strip the grenades off a commando and start breaking them down with the omni-tool. "Or maybe you can just open the door and we can talk about this like normal people."
Okay, even I have to admit that is RICH coming from me right now.
"You're here to kill me."
"Eh, not really," I prepared two new charges for detonation. "I mean, I'm more after your job, then, well, you."
"Oh?"
"I mean, I have been gunning for this job for almost a century."
"So you dedicated a century of your life to finding this base of operations?" it was obvious he was fishing for information. Maybe trying to see if the Broker before him left some loose lips and all that.
"Nope," I primed the charges. "I only really put effort into getting here this year. To be honest, I was in a sort of 'on and off' deal with the whole Broker thing, if you know what I mean."
"What does that even-"
"Please hold that thought," cutting off the most powerful criminal in the galaxy, I rush back to a safe distance before detonating the charges.
Again, they make a dent, but nothing that actually helps me.
"What the fuck did you make this door out of!" This was starting to grind my gears!
I fiddled with the material I had left. Rather than just placing one or two more breaches, I placed seven, using up the last of the supplies I stripped off them. If this didn't work, I can hope that at least it would weaken the door enough for me to use biotics to tear it down.
"Look, you're not going to like it if I have to bust my way in there!" I gesture threateningly towards what I think was a camera with my free hand as the fabrication is underway. But it could have just been a fire detector for all I knew. "But if you open it now and surrender to me, I'll let you live."
"Really? And I'm supposed to take the word of the one who just cut a bloody swath through my ship?"
Okay, fair enough. I can actually see where his disbelief is coming from, but it's the truth!
I mean sure he'd be alive in the sense that he'd have his movements tracked for the rest of his natural life, but that's still life.
"Well you can at least believe this: if I have to blow my way in there, I will kill you."
"So you say."
Third time's the charm, the metal finally tore apart from the cluster of detonations. A new set of alarms blared as ceiling panels bent and warped from the explosion. Smoke and little fires blocked my field of vision, but the way was cleared.
Or cleared enough for me to get in. Jury was still out on some of the more jagged pieces of door still holding on.
Regardless I rushed in, shotgun at the ready.
The office was just like I remember it from the games. Big, ovally, and 'mysterious'. Screens and holographic displays everywhere, all combing through data under the subtle droning of hushed voices and computer hums. All bathed under the glow of bright ceiling lights and flickering screens.
I didn't let myself get distracted, not yet at least. I had one little loose end to tie up. I scanned the room for all possible hostiles. Any left over guards or secret turrets ready to come out of the walls.
But it was empty.
Save for one figure at the center of the room. Shrouded by dim lights, cloaks in shadows, and….
And…
"I'll admit, I am impressed by your dogged determination."
…
Oh you have got to be fucking me….
"You act unhinged, but clearly there was a method to your madness. Afterall, you ended up here."
No.
"In a different life, had I known about you, perhaps I would have taken measures to have hired you as one of my wet-work agents. You have the skill for it, that much I know."
Just…no.
"But that aside, I cannot allow your transgression to go unpunished," he 'leaned' forward in his chair. "So, I will make you a generous offer: if you tell me how you discovered this location, I will be inclined to make your death quick and painless."
I know he said something really important, but I was just hung up on what he was.
"You're a jellyfish!"
The Shadow Broker was a hanar. A burgundy colored sentient jellyfish. He was honest to god(ess) jellyfish sitting in a chair. How was he even sitting in a chair!?
"That is an uncalled for remark," using two of his tendrils like arms, he 'stood' up from his seat. "Are you a xenophobe as well as a blunt instrument?"
I-...
I just….
"...why are you a hanar?"
"Because I was born as such," he was confused by the question.
"But...why are you a hanar?" I was really hung up on this.
"Oh, I think I understand the question now," his tentacles flexing in a close approximation of a 'thinking' position, another closing a screen on his terminal. "Why am I not a turian? Or a batarian? Even a salarian? That is the real question is it not? Why not a more 'fitting' race? Truth be told, I was surprised my predecessor was an elcor, so far be it for me to claim some moral high ground for racial preconceptions."
"You're also speaking in the first person," I commented, picking that little cultural quirk out.
"If you're asking if my vernacular would cause my mother to faint and my father to disown me, then yes," he gave the closest approximation to a hanar shrug.
"You're really chatty for a jelly with nowhere to run," I try to peek around to see if he's doing something like keying into the computer to wipe everything out of spite.
I fired a slug in his direction, meant to merely get him to back away from the terminal, only for the round to hit a previously invisible barrier surrounding his desk. One that quickly transitions to a more 'hardlight' barrier.
A genuine 'shield' that blocked everything rather than just stopping things moving beyond a certain speed.
On instinct, and from recollection of the Lair of the Shadow Broker over a similar shield, I fire several slugs into the ceiling. I manage to blow out a few lights, but nothing that really helps me.
"Are you quite finished vandalizing my office," the Broker commented.
I ignored him, waving my omni tool around his barrier, "Glyph, cut the power to this thing."
"Of course, ma'am."
"Do you truly believe your market standard VI can crack through my security encryptions?" he seemed amused by the thought.
"You don't know what he's packing," while I sound confident, though I was worried Lynyxa's programs would not be enough for this. "I mean, I would be more concerned with yourself. This barrier can only buy you so much time before I drag you out of here kicking and screaming."
"Buying time?" he mulled over the words. "I suppose If you are implying that I am talking to you as a delaying action, then you are correct."
"That was obvious-" without warning, I felt a thin, but sharp, pressure dig into my throat cutting off my retort.
A guard? But I checked the room!
My hud was filled with a dozen warning signs and messages about my suit being cut into from the neck. Hoisted off my feet, I grabbed around my throat to pull off whatever it was that was slicing through it only to find thin wires.
I was being garroted!
"But I was hardly cowering in my seat during our exchange, as you assumed," the hanar gloated, his voice coming just barely over all the alarms ringing in my helmet. "Rather, I was simply diverting your attention."
Lifted off the ground as further pressure was placed on my neck, my hud screeching in ever more alarming way how screwed I was going to be once the nanofiber wire finished cutting its way through the suit.
"Incapacitate her if possible, otherwise just preserve her omni-tool for examination," he made a 'get on with it' motion with his tentacles.
I tried to ignore the constant stream of red pop ups and error messages to focus on the here and now. Deep breaths, as difficult as that might be…
First, who was garroting me.
Assuming an asari commando didn't surgically remove her breasts, I was dealing with a near human-like assassin. That narrowed the list of possible races down quite a bit.
Batarian? Maybe, but they're not the most subtle types. Maybe a former Special Intervention Unit? Broker has the connections to get one of those guys. But this chest wasn't bulky enough for a normal batarian.
Quarian? Body type fits, but they'd sooner fry my suit with some tech then get up close like this.
A mech? Not even an organic race but some assassin droid? Maybe, but I didn't think so.
Seeing how the Broker is a hanar, that does imply one particular race.
Drell. Biotics, humanoid appearance, and stealth match.
So, working theory, a drell assassin that was either hired by the Broker or always worked for him, even before he became the Broker due to the Compact.
Wonderful.
Finding no way to move the wire cutting into my throat, I did the next best thing I could think of. I flung myself back into the wall, hoping to crush the drell against it. Instead I felt the force on my throat vanish, and my back hit solid metal.
I use biotics to pull my shotgun back into my arms and scan the room, only to find just the Broker still sitting (floating?) behind his desk.
Cloak then.
Switching to thermal, I still couldn't see anything either. Normal cloaks might light up like a man on fire, but a good cloak can mask its own heat for some time. I would be surprised if one of the Broker's personal assassins merely had a 'good' cloak.
I tsked.
Without warning, I felt a quick strike to my side.
Turning to try and block any incoming blows, I felt another blow hit the back of my neck. Disorientated, another hit fell on my arm as I fell to one knee.
Acting on instinct, I let out a large biotic blast to push the guy away from me and give me some breathing room. With the drell hopefully backing off for at least a moment, I fired my shotgun on full auto in every direction. Pellets flew off in every direction, puncturing and breaking things across the room, even bouncing off against the Broker's hardshield, in my vein attempt to at least get a hit in.
All I got for my efforts were a bunch of total computers and lots of broken lights.
My spray ended when my gun overheated, the barrel almost glowing from the consecutive rounds being fired.
Moving towards a wall to at least have some cover from behind, I toggled through every setting on my hud to see if there was something I could use to see this fucker.
Still nothing on thermal.
Electrical only showed me the Broker's barrier.
Audio, in the sense of searching for faint sounds, was also showing nothing I did not already see.
Chemical? Nothing. Everything was squeaky clean, and the drell's suit had no obvious chemical trails to follow.
Wait, obvious chemicals? That actually gives me an idea-
The only warning I got for the next hit was the telltale whistle of something sharp cutting through the air.
Realizing it almost too late, I raised my gun to block the oncoming blade. It carved into my weapon down the center, then sliced it down the length, nearly taking a chunk of my hand with it. I managed to let go of it in time, but my fingers still got nicked.
My pinky and ring finger were lopped clean off, with the tip of my middle finger joining them on the floor.
I clutched my bleeding hand, and hissed in pain.
I was maimed…..?
…
And it…didn't actually hurt all that much. Not sure if that was from the blade cauterizing the wound on contact, the painkillers my armor's VI was automatically pumping into my system, or just the adrenaline.
Fucking space ninja bullshit! Just use a gun for fucks sake!
You want to play with swords fine!
I grab my own blade with my good hand, channeling biotic energy through it so I would be able to cut through his hardsuit.
Again, the only warning I had was a brief whistling sound.
I managed to parry the strike at the last moment, the sudden contact of blades caused the drell's cloak to fail around their weapon. While it gave me a brief look at the blade, letting me quickly gauge its length, I hardly had any time to make use of that info.
The drell delivered a quick kick to my side while somehow managing to hold their sword in place. I flinched from the impact just enough for the parry to break, giving him a clear shot at my torso.
While managing to move out of the way once again, I was still clipped; the sword effortlessly cutting through my hardsuit and 'nipping' a bit of the soft skin underneath.
It stung until my hardsuit began injecting even more painkillers into me.I grabbed my side, trying to slow the bleeding as the suit applied a sealant over the exposed flesh.
I…
I couldn't win like this.
At the rate things were going, I was gonna be carved up piece by piece.
I would die….
Die again….
…
No….
Not again….
I didn't live a century here just to roll over and die!
I managed to grab a pair of my 'special' smoke grenades with my bad hand while my good one readied my blade. Unwieldy as they were with only two good fingers, I still managed to toss them in front of me.
Milliseconds later, they detonated, releasing a cloud of white hot smoke. It billowed out of the small things, cloaking part of the room in a thick mist.
Switching my hud back to the chemical overlay, I waited.
See a neat, though seemingly useless thing, I learned over the years is that while people love using smoke for cover, if you throw a smoke-filled grenade at people in the heat of battle they bolt out of it.
No one in the middle of a fight is just going to sit there and weigh the odds of it being a normal smoke grenade. No, they're just gonna jump out of it because who knows what it could be. It could be smoke, or it could be poison gas or some other aerosol.
So did I just pump this enclosed space with poison gas?
No. Even if I did, I refuse to believe the drell doesn't have some filter or onboard oxygen system in his state of the art hardsuit.
Though they did have a little extra something in them that I've always wanted to try out: glitter.
Well, not 'real' glitter. That is just what I call the stuff since it glitters like, well glitter, under most forms of chemical analysis. Also sticks to almost anything it comes into contact with.
When I first found this compound, I thought that maybe I could use these ad hoc glitter bombs as a sort of tracking 'thing'. That is, use them on baddies, wait for baddies to run away from glitter bombs and return to their friends, track them down with aid from the glitter sticking to them, then get a whole bunch of people out of the way!
Of course my tests didn't work out like I wanted. It either just made a mess or didn't do anything that simple thermal scopes couldn't pick out. In the end, it was just some home made boondoggle that was just sort of there.
So, why use glitter bombs in the middle of some drell assassin's beat down of myself?
Well the way I see it, really expensive cloaks, like the one the drell probably has, can do a lot of 'neat' things. They can mask body temperatures, actively change their optical camouflage on the fly, can run for hours, and are tough enough that even if you land a few hits on them the invisibility will not be broken.
That said, I doubt they can change their surface chemical composition as easily. Sure, I was plastering myself with the stuff, but I wasn't hiding under a cloak now was ?
God(ess) this is such a stupid plan…
And so I waited.
…
Not that long apparently since I heard the tell tale whistling blade coming down.
Difference this time around was that I saw not only the blade, but almost an entire arm light up on my chemical readout.
I parried it with little issue, as I did the next consecutive strikes, and the kick that came after that.
By the time the smoke cleared, the drell lit up like a christmas tree! Sure it was just an arm, a leg, and a bit of the other hand, but that was more than enough for me to read his moves now!
He charged, and again I blocked his blows. Sparks flew as my biotically charged blade collided with his own normal blade.
I was hardly following every movement, a few choice hits by his still cloaked arm were proof of that, but I was no longer some sitting duck waiting to be carved up.
He kept backing off, realizing I could 'see' him now, and began trying to hit me from behind in my blind spots. Biotic pulses kept that to a minimum, and the drell in front of me as much as possible.
This 'dance' continued for what felt like an hour, but was more likely less than a minute, before I found my first opening.
Acting on a gut feeling, I managed to trap the drell's still cloaked arm in a lock while he was trying to back off once more.
Without a hint of hesitation, I struck back. Like a hot knife through butter, my blade sliced through the arm.
I heard an audible hiss from the drell as he moved to get some distance and check over his arm.
While my own blade was hot enough to cauterize the wound on contact, the attack seemingly short circuited the cloak along the shoulder and neck. The bits of the body phasing in and out of existence as the cloak's VI desperately tried to recalibrate itself.
With an arm missing, the cloak was pretty much useless. Even if the hardsuit sealed the wound, all that blood already splattered across his arm would essentially 'float' in mid air as it would cover the optical camouflage sensors. Effectively, it renders the cloak useless. Just building up heat and wasting energy.
He seemed to agree. With a soft electric whine, the cloak disengaged.
The drell was about as tall as me, a black hardsuit clung to her form. With how easily she still held the blade in her good arm, it was clear losing one was only a setback-
Wait…her?
But the one who garroted me was a guy-
SHIT!
I was only just able to hear the soft pitter patter rushing towards me from behind.
And when I turned I noticed a soft, glittered figure charging me from behind.
Well if he wanted to face me so badly…
With a little help from my biotics, he flew towards me. Pulled off his feet, barreling towards me, he must have realized what was about to happen because he tried to twist himself out of the way. He ended up impaled upon my blade with sheer inertia, straight through his heart, his own cloak fizzling out moments later.
Not taking any chances, I pulled the sword out and cut off his head in a single stroke.
I am not dealing with any more space ninja bullshit today!
I turned around when I heard the faint sound of a grip tightening, the female drell, for all the calm she showed, was not taking the death of her compatriot well.
She charged me with reckless abandon, I didn't even have a chance to use any biotics before her blade was digging into mine.
Her attacks were more forceful now, aggressive, rabid even. She showed no regard for her own safety as she kept up the attacks even as she was hit with my biotics. If pushed away, she recovered and charged. If thrown to the side, she scrambled to her feet and attacked again.
She was like some rabid dog that refused to back off no matter how much punishment she received in turn.
And she was way too fast to keep track of-
I felt the sharp, hot, pain tear through my gut before I even saw the blade in my stomach. I didn't even register that I had let go of my blade until I heard it hit the floor.
I fell to my knees in a wet coughing fit. My vision became more and more obscured by all the blood I was coughing up onto my hud. Not that I needed to see anything to tell how fucked I was right now. Sword through the gut is hardly something I need a VI to tell me is bad.
Was this…how it ended this time around…
…
…
No…?
As more and more suppressors and painkillers began flooding my system, I registered that I was in fact, still alive. Looking up, the woman stood over me, blade still digging deep into my gut. But she made no motion to finish it.
Why was I still alive?
"You will die here," she finally spoke, wiggling the blade to emphasize the point. I had no idea if I had spoken that last thought aloud or she was just assuming what I was thinking. "If not from blood loss, then by a single motion to cut you open from abdomen to collar."
"Then…why?" a simple, short question; though one that sounded more like wet wheezing. Every word made me cough up more blood in my helmet.
"You did him a mercy," she explained, gesturing behind me with her stump of an arm. "He was suffering from the late stages of kepral syndrome. His greatest fear was to wither away in some hospital, suffocating as he gasped for air. You spared him that fate. For that, you have my thanks."
"I killed your friend…and you're thanking me," again, wet coughs and wheezing butchered my words.
"My husband, yes," she corrected.
"Even…worse," I might be in a sorry state, but I was still alive. If she wanted to start monologuing, that's fine by me. Gives me a chance to figure a way out of this mess, slim as it might be. "So why… don't you finish it?"
"I already told you, you will die," the drell repeated. "For your intrusion into my master's domain, for the senseless death you have caused, you will die. Be it right now, or in a few minutes, your death is inevitable."
"Then why…"
"I wish to give you your last rites," she commented as if it were plainly obvious. "To allow you to enter the inscrutable depths of Kalahira's embrace in peace."
"R-Really…"
"Is that so strange?" she tilted her head. "To be granted a warrior's peace by their peer?"
"I'm…not a warrior…"
"Hmmm…as you say then," the drell stuck to her preconception.
"I'm a…." I got into another coughing fit, every heave of my chest ended up moving the blade around. Sick of the metallic smell in my helmet, I pulled it off with my gun hand. "I'm…a soldier."
"Regardless, I will still offer you this," with that, she began whispering to herself. Prayers I guess. I really wasn't paying any attention.
Honestly, I felt…tired.
I worked hard, did everything as well as I could, and it still wasn't enough.
After everything, all the struggles and pain I just wanted…to rest…
I felt so sleepy…
Everything was so heavy….
Maybe if I just rested my eyes for a moment….
…
But one glance at the Shadow Broker, behind his barrier, so close to my goal, it gave me a brief second wind.
I couldn't give up….
This wasn't just about me….
This was about saving the Galaxy…
Beyond that, I refused to leave this life whimpering like some baby without so much as a bang…
"Any last wishes you wish to impart," the drell had seemingly finished her prayers. "A comment or two about your life? A message you wish for me to pass on to your loved ones?"
"Y-you'd… actually do that?"
"I promise I will. Now, your last words?"
"Y-yeah…I think I do have… something I wanna say," Even without the hud, I could feel the VI administering something to me. Maybe painkillers, maybe stimulants, maybe both.
Regardless, I only had one shot at this.
One chance…..
I gripped the blade in my gut with my maimed hand, the sharp edge cutting into my bones.
…to save the Galaxy.
"While I admire your determination, you cannot force the blade away with-"
With a biotic surge, the blade shattered in two under my ruined fist, bits of metal cut into my already bloodied and maimed appendage. I'm pretty sure I lost another finger, but that was hardly an issue right now. A chuck of the sword might still be in my gut, but she couldn't slice me open.
The drell realized what I was doing within milliseconds. Raising her fragmented blade, she moved to thrust towards my head, only for it to get caught when I used my discarded helmet as a mock shield.
Her sword still cut into my head, but it only scratched the top most layer of skin before the hilt hit the hemet.
With her blade now out of the picture for the briefest of moments, I had my opening.
Biting into my lip, I biotically charged into her. Given how hazzy my head was from all the drugs coursing through my system it was a short charge. Messy, weak, barely moving me a meter, but I didn't need to go any further; slamming into the woman and throwing her to the ground with my own body.
In the milliseconds she was still dazed, I let go of the helmet and slammed my biotically charged good fist down on the shoulder of her good arm, shattering it beneath my strike.
She let go of her sword as she lost feeling in her arm.
On top of her I stared down at the woman who spent the last while cutting me to ribbons. Even with her helmet on, I swear I could see the shock in her eyes. Or was it shock at the bloodied, almost feral, expression I saw in myself in her visor's reflection?
"My last words," coughing out some blood onto her hemet, I clasped her with both my hands; ruined and good alike. "Are that you should have aimed for the head."
"...what are you?" I heard her whisper.
"Or smashed it in," ignoring her question, I gathered biotic energy, "like THIS!"
Her head imploded under the biotic force, her body twitching wildly, then laid still. I looked at the woman, her body still as her husband's.
It was done.
With labored, wet, breaths, I stood up, a bit of her sword still sticking out of my gut. I didn't actually feel it anymore, but I could feel the sensation of something sharp against my organs with every breath I took.
Do I take it out or leave it in?
…
….heheh….
Dear God(ess). I can't feel it….but I can feel it….
Fuck, I am going to crash so hard when the painkillers wear off.
If I don't bleed out first….
Gritting my teeth, I shamble to my feet, and shuffle towards the silent hanar.
The jelly looked at his dead drell, then to me limping towards him, then cleared his throat. "Perhaps I… Perhaps you and this one can reach a mutually beneficial agreement?" While still protected by his barrier, there was a clear tinge of fear in his voice.
"...are you serious?" I couldn't help but laugh at the Broker's sudden tone shift, and the sly first to third person transition indicating someone wasn't as cocky as he was a few minutes ago. Though I'm pretty sure my laughs were closer to wet wheezing.
"Quite," despite his tone, the wringing of his hand tentacles was a clear sign of anxiety. "This one is prepared to overlook your previous actions against it, and it's operations, and potentially reach a-"
"Can you please just skip the whole…speech thing. I'm literally bleeding out here," I fumble with my fingers getting my sidearm out.
"...it was worth an attempt," the jelly gave a shrug and slumped down into his chair. "But even if you refuse this one's offer, you still have no way of penetrating the shielding device-"
The barrier died just as he was speaking.
I would be laughing my ass off if I didn't think I'd cough up all my organs in the process.
"Apologies for the delay," Glyph chimed from my omni-tool, "but I am pleased to report that power line CT-4427 has been successfully severed. The barrier is now disabled."
"Thank you…Glyph," I stagger over to the desk, using it as a crutch when I reach it.
"I always aim to work at optimal efficiency," the VI chimed cheerfully.
"Fucking slow piece of shit," I swear under my breath. Even saying that, I was probably going to shower Lynyxa with all sorts of 'atta girl's' for saving me more times than I can count today with her hacks.
"So…" he eyed the pistol, shivering at the sight. "That's that then."
"Yeah," agreeing with him, I could feel my fingers twitching over the pistol's grip. It felt like the thing was going to slip out of my hands if I didn't hold it tight enough. Were my hands just that weak or were they just that bloodied? "So, any last words? And I promise I won't mono… talk like she did."
"There is one thing it is curious about," the hanar mused, his voice still a bit flighty, but a bit more sure than before. Accepting his fate perhaps? "How did you discover this one's location?"
"...from a video game," I answered truthfully, either because he was going to die anyway or I was just rambling from the painkillers I honestly couldn't say. "I learned about it….Hagalaz…. From a game."
"...Pardon?"
"This place's ... the end of a DLC mission. I just… skipped the earlier stuff and…got here…sooner," it was actually sort of nice to not lie about something as reality shattering as 'your world is just a video game'.
"It see's...you have lost a great deal of blood," His head tilted at my answer. "Do you even think you'll live long enough to enjoy your victory?"
"Victory is victory," I almost fell over onto his desk, an arm keeping me upright as I aimed at him. "Even if it is just a minute. So, that's it?"
He looked at me, his head shivering a bit, then he took a deep breath; seemingly accepting his fate. "...may your victories last moments, and your failures drag on for years."
I pull the trigger, the bullet going through his head. The Broker slumped over, the gravity harness he was wearing keeping him upright even as his whole body went limp.
And with that, it's done.
But unlike a game, there's no 'end mission' screen to cut away to. No mission summary or quick cut back to your ship…
The gun slips from my hand, while I fall forward onto the desk; the flat surface pushing the blade deeper into me. My legs felt like they were about to give out.
Swearing under my breath, I use the edges of the table to shimmy to the Broker's now unoccupied seat. Pushing the jelly's body out of the way, I sit down with a heavy sigh. The sudden movements jostling the blade around and reopening wounds across my body.
"Glyph…"I opened the terminal in front of me. "Hack into the systems here. I need access."
"Of course ma'am," the VI chimed. Lines of code raced across the screen, only to stop with a bold pop up.
Access Denied
"Apologize ma'am," it chimed, "but I am afraid the systems are set to respond only to pre registered biometric data. Any attempt to brute force the system will result in immediate self deletion of all data."
"You don't say," mumbling to myself, I eyed the hanar's body. Biometric lock he said? With what little strength I had left, I dragged one of his tentacles up to the scanner. "Use this… to get in."
A light wooshed over the appendage, then the screen chimed.
"Access achieved," the VI informed me. The lines of code began moving again, soon enough the terminal's 'home screen' popped up. "I now have privileged access to all files and systems. Is there anything you would like me to do?"
"I need you to set up a new bio…biometric lock," I slump back into the chair, grunting as the metal twists and tears slightly as I adjust myself. It takes two tries for me to get my hand near the scanner. "Set it so only I can… access it."
It was getting harder to breathe.
"One moment, please," the light ran over my bloodied hand. "Biometric data updated."
"Now I need you to record some audio…. filter it through whatever the Broker used to mask his voice, and edit it so I sound normal…not dying," My speech was starting to truly slur now. "Broadcast when it's done."
"Certainly Ma'am," a program was pulled up with a bunch of voice channels and stuff. "I am ready to begin recording at your leisure."
Okay…let's see if this works like it did in the game…
"This is the Shadow Broker, all forces stand down. I say again, stand down, and return to normal duties."
"What just occurred was a live fire simulation of a theoretical surprise attack by an unknown assailant. It was run to ascertain the effective response this base's security could provide in the event of such an attack."
"Once an accounting of casualties has been finished, I want a full report on the effectiveness of existing procedures and a list of potential countermeasures to prevent a similar event in the future."
"That is all."
Mahad could barely hold in a scoff as the speakers went silent.
Live fire simulation?
Theoretical surprise attack?
What nonsense was this?
The batarian had spent the last few hours inside a panic room with the rest of his staff, terrified out of his mind by the sounds of gunfire and carnage just beyond, the smell of blood thick in the air, and now he was being told that it was all just an exercise? To be given no more thought than a fire drill or a spot check?
No.
Oh, no, this was more than that.
He knew it, and everyone with half a brain knew it.
The Broker might be polite, but he was a spiteful fucker. Hardly the sort to just 'let' someone walk away.
No. Something more…chaotic has just occurred.
"Doctor Halik Mahad?" His omni-tool flared to life as the voice of some VI he'd never seen before chimed in.
"What?"
"The Shadow Broker requires you and your medical staff's immediate presence in his office."
"...understood," he couldn't help but sigh. A few brusque orders later, and his whole team were making their way down the gore stained hallways to the Broker's office. It looked like some sort of monster from the pits of hell had torn through here, bodies mangled in every conceivable position.
Even the door to his office was torn apart, like a wild animal had been set loose.
Working his way through the breach, making sure to not cut himself on the jagged metal, he saw the last remnants of battle. There were four people in the room: two dead humanoids, a hanar, and a blood stained asari sitting at the desk barely holding onto life.
"Doctor Mahad?" the same VI from before chimed, a holographic orb appearing next to the asari. "If you would please see to the Broker."
The Broker?
He eyed the corpses again.
….ah. So that's what happened. What an awkward situation indeed.
While Mahad was loyal to the Broker, it was more to the position than the individual.
He signaled for his team to rush to the asari.
They quickly hoisted the woman onto the desk and started their initial assessment. Checking her pulse, ordering synthetic blood be prepared in the infirmary, checking the metal shard in her chest to see if it could be removed safely.
Mahad saw the data over his omni-tool and shook his head.
It didn't look good. She's lost a lot of blood, and that's before taking the trauma her body's been subjected to. He made out a few gene-mods and implants that were doing a lot of heavy lifting to keep her alive. Probably the only reason she was alive still.
They were going to have to work fast if she was going to make it.
Just as Mahad came over to get a better look at the woman, she reached out and grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.
"Listen to me…," she whispered, her blood soaking through. "If I die here… so does everyone else. The reactor is set to…. go critical if my vitals fail. The explosion will… kill everyone. Don't even… think about it."
With that, she went limp, the last of her strength used to deliver a threat of mutual death.
Well isn't that lovely, she doesn't trust them.
He couldn't help but approve.
"It's Mahad," the batarian quickly connected himself to the medbay, "get one of the surgery suits ready."
"They're all filled up," the nurse on the other end stated.
"Then empty one of them," he growled back as the asari was lifted onto a stretcher. "It's…the Broker," he whispered the title, impressing the urgency of the situation.
"...we'll clear out suit three," they replied, terminating the call.
As the team moved the asari…the Broker to the newly opened surgery suit, Mahad couldn't help but notice they had an unwanted follower.
"What?" he snapped at the holographic drone following just behind them.
"I apologize if my presence is distracting," the drone happily commented. "I am here to ensure any procedure is performed in good faith, and to prematurely detonate the reactors if malfeasance is practiced. Please pay me no mind."
Ignoring the annoying thing, he focused on the woman- Broker.
He focused on the Broker. The woman was placed with great care on the operating table, as nurses wheeled about getting all manner of instruments ready and hooking her up to a fresh bag of asari synthesized blood..
"First things first, we need to get her out of this," he ordered. A nurse nodded, powering a tool to start cutting the asari out of her armor.
It was going to be a long night.
MESSAGE
TO: All Operatives
FROM: Shadow Broker
SUBJECT: Communications
This is the Shadow Broker.
No doubt many of you are aware of the temporary lapse in communications over the past sixty-two hours. Rest assured, there is no cause for concern.
In the process of changing out equipment, communications were temporarily interrupted. This led to the 'blackout' some operatives have termed it.
Operations have since returned to normal, and all operatives should return to their assigned tasks.
However, as a matter of protocol, I wish for a full report on all ongoing operations to be submitted within the next solar day.
Aria was hardly concerned when she didn't hear from Aleena after a week. Actually, she was happy for the peace and quiet.
Two weeks, also hardly worth a mention. She remembered during her maiden years when she would be out of comm range for months. It was simply par for the course when dealing with missions outside of more trafficked areas.
At three weeks, paternal instincts began to kick in. It was the unknown that started to irritate her. If Aleena were on Noveria or some other 'civilized' planet, she'd hardly raise an eye at silence. But if she were out in the less charted areas of space, alone, injured….
But just shy of the fourth week, when her fears almost bubbled into an irrational action, perhaps even sending out a search party for her, she learned her daughter was alive and well.
Annoyingly, it was how she learned that pissed her off: coming home to have a few minutes of peace and quiet from a stressful day only to find Liselle on a vid call with the girl.
"You what!"
"Please, Liselle, not so loud."
"You got stabbed in the gut and almost lost your hand!"
"The other lady got off worse than me…. And I got a new hand, see?"
"That's not the point! You needed surgery!"
"I know what I said. And I'm still not one hundred percent yet, so please stop yelling."
"You are not asking me to not be upset by this!"
"Because there's nothing left to be upset about," Aleena replied, Aria could hear the girl was a little off going by her voice. "I had a target, they're dead, I'm not. End of story. I'm actually going through his stuff right now. It's really neat all the-"
"End of story my ass!" Liselle slammed her fist down on the table. "You don't just get to walk back 'I was beaten to an inch of my life last month' and just let that be that! No call, no message, what the hell!?"
"Well I wouldn't really call you during the mission, or my surgeries now could I?"
"You know what I mean!"
"Look just…" she looked like she was about to say more, then stopped."Just trust me, I am fine. Everything is fine, and I will be back on Omega in a few months."
"A few months!?"
"I'm trying to recover from near death and manage this guy's shit so everyone thinks he's still alive, so cut me some slack."
"The fact I won't strangle you to death for worrying me is all the slack I plan to give you!"
"Also, don't tell dad, alright?"
"Why?"
"Well I mean you can tell her I'm okay, just not all the other stuff."
"Again, why?"
"You know why. She'll blow this thing out of proportion and make a big thing out of nothing."
Out of nothing?
"She's gonna find out eventually, you know," Liselle replied more subdued. "You can't keep a secret to save your life."
"Hey I get tons of classified information in Nos Astra, and not a single drop of it ever leaves my lips."
"You mean classified as in, 'go here, kill them'?"
"...There's more to it than that."
"Besides, father doesn't ask about that stuff. It stays a secret because she doesn't care about those things."
"...What father doesn't know won't hurt me."
"Isn't it supposed to be 'what she doesn't know won't hurt her'?" It was at that point that Liselle noticed Aria standing in the doorway.
"Didn't I just say that?" the girl sighed. "Look just… Let me deal with father. I'll tell her, I just… need to find the right words. So please don't say anything to her."
"...yeah" Liselle looked at Aria, looking at her like she was some dangerous animal. "Okay… yeah sure, I won't say a word."
"Really?"
"Yeah, she, uh…" she squirmed under Aria's eyes, "won't hear about it from me."
"Thanks. Honestly I thought you'd put up more of a fight on that," the girl paused, then groaned "...she's right there isn't she?"
"...sort of?"
"What does 'sort of' mean?"
"It means I walked in on your conversation," Aria finally spoke up, walking over to the screen to get a good look at her youngest. The girl was bandaged and seemingly bedridden. "Hello Aleena, it's good to finally hear from you."
"Yeah," the girl rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah it's good to hear from you too."
"Is it?" she flinched at the accusation. "But more importantly, how are you?"
"Look, father, what I said to Liselle, I didn't mean anything-"
"I said: How are you?"
"Um…good?"
"Are you stable?"
"I, um, think so? The doctor says I should make a full recovery in a couple of months."
"Are you somewhere safe?"
"Safe… as I can be for the moment," she dodged the question, but Aria would deal with that later.
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yes, good," Aria repeated. "If that changes you will call me, do you understand?"
"Father, getting better… it just takes some time," she repeated.
"Do you understand?"
"..yes father," the girl squeeked.
"Good," Aria let out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding in. "Now I need to get back to work, and you clearly need to get some rest, so I'll call you tomorrow so we can finish this conversation."
"Father that's not really necessary-"
"I said I will call you tomorrow," she cut her wayward daughter off. "And you will pick up, and you will answer my questions tomorrow."
"...yes father."
Aria swore under her breath as she made her way out before the call even ended, hearing the voices of her daughter as the door closed behind her.
Despite her tone, she was happy that her daughter was safe, albeit injured, but recovering.
But still…
She was getting too old for this shit.
AN: The Broker is dead. All hail the Shadow Broker, long may she reign!
Aleena was used to just overpowering all her opponents, but today she has finally met a worthy foe! And she overcome her greatest battle yet, a pair of space ninjas fighting for a jellyfish! So anyone who guessed 'Hanar' as the Broker's race, give your selves an 'atta boy/girl'.
Also, Aria going 'papa bear' on Aleena. All is good in the universe!
And that Pandora's Box she left on her Terminal? Still there.
Probably nothing to worry about!
(WINK~)