2: The Cabalist

Turians were not especially well-known for their espionage. That was not to say they did not have spies, far from it; there were plenty of turian spies about the galaxy, plenty of informants of all species willing to work for a fee to provide the intelligence and counterintelligence arms of the Hierarchy's powerful military with vital information. Perhaps the most prominent branch of the turian Hierarchy's military intelligence arm was simply known as Talon 3, or rather "T3" for short. Compared to the intelligence organizations of the salarians or even the humans, T3 was somewhat small and underfunded. Nonetheless, it had its place in the Hierarchy's grand military, and among the useful services it offered were secure safehouses in a variety of locations all over the known galaxy. It was at one such safehouse that Lieutenant Sevarn Valus had found himself, an otherwise unusual occurrence for a dedicated Cabalist.

When a turian heard the term "Cabal", they were reminded of the rare and somewhat underutilised biotic shock troopers their military fielded on more severe operations. Prowling around some dingy colony in the Terminus systems was hardly the norm for this particular breed of soldier, a fact that made Sevarn all the more wary of this latest assignment.

Sevarn was young, only a few months from his twenty-third birthday. And like most turians in his position, he had known little else than the military since his biotic abilities had first manifested during adolescence. As for how they had come about, this remained a mystery: neither of his parents had shown such traits, and it seemed unlikely his careful and caring mother had exposed him to raw element zero when he had still been in the womb. Neither of his parents had been all too pleased when he had been snatched up by the military and sent in for Cabalist training at the tender age of fourteen. He still saw them on occasion, but it had been made very clear to him early on that the Cabals were his family now.

The humans called this planet "Cernan", a somewhat unremarkable but very habitable place in a corner of the galaxy that remained sparsely populated. There was only one notable settlement here, a city named "Deckard's Stand", one home to a population of about half a million, its city centre comprised of mainly prefabricated modular buildings that had been carted here by the first settlers. And in typical human fashion, these structures had been piled upon one another in a roughshod manner, joined by walkways and stairwells and the like, but otherwise lacking any real sense of aesthetics. It was those later structures, those built after the initial foundation of the settlement that looked more like something one may want to live or work in, yet even in this regard the humans had opted for higher density housing comprised of nondescript grey tenements that managed to make the most utilitarian architecture back home on Palaven seem pleasant in appearance.

Beyond the city limits one would find the farms and homesteads that Sevarn had often thought about when pondering colonial life. Crops of all sorts spread out across miles and miles of countryside, flourishing in the nitrogen-rich soil. Having gone through customs at the city spaceport wherein he had received extra scrutiny for being one of only a handful of turians in the colony, Sevarn had been greeted by an overly friendly cab driver, an old man who had spoken at length about the joys of living here and the wonderful natural sights that were common about the planet. The old cab driver had even asked him about the First Contact War, although Sevarn knew it better as the "Relay 314 Incident". Upon informing the old man that he had barely even been born at the time of the incident, he had deftly changed the subject, instead choosing to talk about the latest rumours brought on by what Sevarn presumed to be an excess use of the extranet.

Sevarn's cover story was adequate at best: he was part of a Hierarchy survey team granted permission to study soil samples from the outlying reaches of the settled areas of the planet. His credentials appeared legitimate and the customs officers had been convinced, if naturally suspicious. A few others with such cover stories had passed through already, and it was to the designated safehouse the cab driver brought him to now, an otherwise vacant survey post that on the outside was little more than a ramshackle brick home with an overgrown garden. It was some distance from the city itself, a discreet purchase made by the Hierarchy some years before.

Arriving at the property, the cab driver brought the four-wheeled vehicle to a halt before the house's driveway. It was late afternoon and the distant sun was beginning a slow, steady descent to the crest of the horizon.

Sevarn paid the cab driver and climbed out of the vehicle, taking his one and only bag with him. At a glance, the house seemed abandoned, the surrounding area strangely quiet. Off in the distance, the warbling cry of an alien bird sounded, and Sevarn found himself pausing at the start of the path that crossed the house's front garden and led to the door. The surroundings here were pleasant and just about any of the major species in Citadel space would have killed over such a beautiful world. Of course, it was not all sunshine and rainbows; the climate became more extreme the further one went from the equatorial regions, and even here the storms could often prove to be violent.

The taxi took off back down the lonely highway. Sevarn approached the front door, finding it oddly dated. This was no sliding door with a computerised lock; rather, this was an old-fashioned manual handled door, with a small intercom by the side that indicated some level of technological sophistication. He stopped before the door, peering into the obvious camera lens at the intercom panel.

'Credentials, please.' A curt male voice sounded through the speaker. Sevarn frowned, but nonetheless activated his omni tool, the holographic yellow layout appearing about his left forearm. He brought up his identification, floating it before the camera lens. Thereupon the holographic display was a somewhat unflattering mugshot of him, his face a dark grey in colour, his white facial markings a stark contrast upon it. His name and affiliations were all in view, for this was his legitimate identification and not the forgery he had been supplied with by his handlers in order to pass through customs here unmolested.

'Very good, Lieutenant. I'm unlocking the door now.' There sounded an audible click. Sevarn found himself lingering a moment more at the doorstep, switching off his omnitool as he waited. The voice sounded through the intercom again, edged with some small measure of amusement:

'You have to use the handle, Lieutenant.'

Sevarn grabbed the handle, trying to push aside the minor rush of embarrassment he felt coming on. He pulled it open, revealing a somewhat barren hallway beyond. As he stepped inside, he found himself approached by a male turian who looked to be somewhat older than he was. This one wore an unassuming set of blue and grey civilian attire, his light grey face mostly bare save for a few small streaks of black at his forehead. Sevarn did not have to ponder too much on who this was, for it was apparent that this was the safehouse's resident agent.

'Close the door behind you.' The agent offered him a friendly smile. Sevarn closed the door at his rear, before he looked about the mostly grey and white hallway, his eyes drifting towards the open doorway a little further at his left. Taking a few more steps inside, he sighted a desk in that next room at which a computer terminal was situated. The curtains were closed, the living area that doubled as the agent's workspace still containing many of the original furnishings left here by the previous human owners.

'I'll take you to the others,' the agent stated, and he motioned for Sevarn to follow.

'It's not normal procedure to call someone like me to a place like this,' Sevarn stated. The agent glanced back at him as they came upon another door, offering the Lieutenant another smirk.

'You should feel honoured, Lieutenant. You've been chosen for something special, from my understanding. That's just my guess, since I haven't been briefed as to why you and the others are here, I'm simply providing access to the premises.' He pushed open the door, revealing a flight of steps that led down, presumably to a basement of sorts. 'Go on ahead. I suspect they're about to start.'

Sevarn nodded in acknowledgement, stepping past the agent and starting down the steps. As he moved down, the door was closed after him. From below, he could hear voices, most predominantly that of a male. At the bottom of the stairs, an open doorway at his left opened into a basement that had been converted into a full-blown operations centre. Monitors lined one wall, currently cycling through surveillance feeds from about the property, as well as local broadcasts and a few from outlying systems. It was mostly human programming, of course, and as one screen changed Sevarn caught sight of what appeared to be an old movie of sorts, with human men in period gear riding on horseback and shooting gunpowder-based weapons at one another. This cycled onto another channel, now showing a shirtless and well-muscled human male armed with a large machine gun shooting his way through some kind of jungle-based enemy camp.

There were computers along a table at the opposite wall, although only one was switched on. In the centre of the well-illuminated space was a large rectangular table at which two others were seated. One of whom was a female turian with blue facial markings and even lighter blue eyes. She was outfitted in the black and red uniform of an officer of the turian Blackwatch. She turned to Sevarn as he stepped inside, their eyes meeting for a moment. In that moment, Sevarn recognized this officer, and judging from the small smile she gave she recognized him as well.

'Lieutenant Sevarn Valus,' she declared, her voice tinged with the accent of one hailing from Palaven's northernmost continents. 'It is so good to see you again.' She rose to her feet, holding out a hand for the Lieutenant to take. He did so with some small trepidation, for he knew all too well Major Neva Gavian's reputation.

'It's good to see you, Major,' Sevarn lied, shaking hands with the female. He turned to the other individual seated at the table, this being a somewhat younger male. That said, he was still older than Sevarn, and his uniform bore the rank of Captain.

'That's Captain Vasra Korlevus,' the Major stated, motioning to her fellow officer. 'My second-in-command.'

The Captain stood up, offering his own hand in greeting.

'Good to meet you, Lieutenant.'

'Captain.' Sevarn gave the man a nod and a brief handshake. Korlevus had an elaborate pattern of white on his mostly brown-toned facial plates. A man with strong colony ties, no less.

'You still owe me after last time, Lieutenant.' The Major's face lit up with a smile, the kind a predator might reserve for when they were eyeing up their prey.

'Major?' Sevarn suddenly felt uneasy. Major Gavian was an expert at making him feel uncomfortable.

'You owe me dinner, remember? And more.' The woman's glee was almost palpable. Straight away, Sevarn felt a blush coming on. He turned his head away, his memory of the one other time he had worked with this woman coming to the fore. Here was the kind of woman who would set her sights on a man and stop at nothing from getting her claws into him. So far, Sevarn had avoided it, if only because their assignments had since kept them far apart.

There was another in the room with them, and he stood by the head of the table. From his tall, proud stance and the way in which his blue eyes had narrowed in on the Lieutenant, there was confusion present as to who was in charge here. Sevarn was not sure if he recognized this man, although he was sure he had seen him somewhere before. Perhaps in passing, maybe a minor news item on some Hierarchy broadcast somewhere, he could not be certain. Nonetheless, he found himself about ready to stand to attention.

'At ease, Lieutenant.' The male was tall, his shining silver face plates displaying a simple set of black marks at his cheeks and lower jaw. He wore the armour of a regular army officer, a Colonel at that. His bearing was stern, yet from the way the frown left his face Sevarn thought he detected a hint of something warmer underneath. This Colonel had to have been well into his fifth decade, likely pushing sixty. He certainly sported the duller sheen to his plates and rougher texture of the leathery hide between them that a turian going into their older age often developed.

'Sir.' The Lieutenant stood by one of the vacant chairs, but he did not make a move to sit down. He would do so when invited to do so, yet from the way the Colonel was looking at him it seemed he found the Lieutenant's adherence to protocol amusing.

'Please, Lieutenant. This isn't Palaven; I prefer to keep things a little less formal than over there.' The Colonel motioned for the empty seat. Sevarn sat down then, once again feeling a little embarrassed. It seemed so silly, since no one else here looked particularly concerned with this apparent display of awkwardness.

'We're all here now. That's good.' The Colonel scratched at one mandible, looking somewhat more thoughtful then. He glanced to the Lieutenant again. 'I am Colonel Calen Venarus. I called you here today for a special purpose.'

The name did ring some serious bells. Sevarn did not know the Colonel personally, but he had heard of the man. He was something of a hero, a winner of multiple medals and commendations. Some back home on Palaven had said that a man such as that should be a General by now, after all that he had done for the Hierarchy. And yet, Venarus was far from the kind of man to sit behind a desk and direct battles. He was someone, from what Sevarn had heard, who preferred to do as much of the heavy lifting as he possibly could himself. If he was involved here, then the mission likely had some serious importance to it.

'You called us out to a backwater human colony with barely an explanation.' It was Captain Korlevus who said this, and he sounded a little annoyed. Venarus met his gaze, yet the frown he displayed was fleeting. If anything, he found the Captain's disdain for this world worthy of a grin.

'I called you out here, Captain, because I have been granted the use of your Blackwatch team. That is, the team your commander, Major Gavian, is in charge of. As her second, it only made sense to bring you here.'

'And why are we here, Colonel?' Gavian was the one to ask this, although unlike her second she did not seem annoyed. If anything, she found this whole escapade a welcome diversion from the monotony of peacetime duties.

'I need a team and a very close friend of mine told me you were the best,' Venarus explained. 'I brought you out here because we are one mass relay jump away from our target. Some of you may have heard of me, but I'm not the kind to go seeking fame. I did not choose to serve my people for that. However, the reason I may be unknown to the three of you is likely more down to the fact that my work has often been of a clandestine nature. I am no spy, no saboteur, but I have become Talon 3's go-to operations commander when they are in need of, say, a surgical strike.'

'What does that have to do with us, sir?' Gavian narrowed her brow. She motioned to Sevarn. 'And what does this have to do with him?'

'As I said, I need a team. Yours is it, Major.' Venarus then shifted his attention to Sevarn. 'And that team requires biotic support. Lieutenant Sevarn Valus is that support.'

He stepped away from the table then, his point apparently made. He motioned to the wall of screens behind him, a gesture that saw all of them turn to the same plain blue background. And then, one by one, each screen began to form into part of a single, larger image. It became apparent that it was a satellite image taken of a non-descript and predominantly green planet that Sevarn had never seen before.

'A single jump away from here will take us a step deeper into the Terminus Systems,' Venarus declared. 'Into what the humans called the "Eagle Nebula". A free-for-all of species colonising on top of one another. A hub of scoundrels, pirates, smugglers, mercenaries and outright terrorists. Hardly the place for a vacation, and more often than not a place that bears little to no relevance to the Hierarchy.' He motioned to the planet pictured on screen. 'Until now, that is.'

'What are we looking at, Colonel?' Major Gavian asked him.

'Tell me, Major, are you familiar with the planet known as "Anhur"?' This question lingered in the air between those seated for a long moment. The Captain gave his Major a confused look, whereas Sevarn simply watched the Colonel expectantly, awaiting the explanation that was to come. It was Major Gavian who spoke first, doing so in her usually confident tones:

'I heard mention of it a bunch some years back,' she stated. 'Then again, that's about all I've heard of the place.'

'It's home to millions of humans and batarians,' Venarus said. 'And it was, several years ago, the site of a vicious and bloody war. From 2176 to 2178, a war was fought between the batarian pro-slavery forces and the abolitionists, the latter of whom was supported by mercenary groups. It all stemmed from the corporations there abolishing the minimum wage, worried they were losing out to their batarian-run competitors. Of course, relegalising slavery was hardly a popular move. Protests became riots, riots became terrorist action, and before anyone there knew it people were gunning each other down in the streets.'

'Don't tell me this is where we're headed, Colonel.' Captain Korlevus did not sound at all amused.

'The war's been over for years. Granted, the planet is an economic basket case now and the major settlements still haven't been properly rebuilt, but things have generally calmed down. Except for the terrorist and insurgent groups who continue to operate and take advantage of the lawlessness that now grips the planet.' Venarus almost sounded like he was enjoying this, telling all about this colonial backwater and its sordid state of affairs.

Sevarn had come here feeling positive about the kind of assignment he would find himself granted; now, he could feel little more than an ominous sinking feeling in his gut. The Colonel cycled the screens through a variety of images, all of which had evidently been taken during the fighting he had described. Mercenary troops engaged in urban warfare amongst rubble-strewn streets; batarian soldiers laying waste to farms and homesteads and the like; armoured vehicles tearing through cities. No doubt a horrible situation as a whole, one that was long over, or so the official story suggested. Sevarn knew all too well from his studies of history, be it that of the turians or even the other Citadel species, that even though a war might be declared as "ended", the old and bitter hatreds could linger for a very long time. And sometimes, even with armies disbanded in the wake of a truce or a surrender or even a treaty, there would always be those who would try and carry on the fight in whatever ways they could.

'The mess that is Anhur is not our concern,' Venarus continued. 'In fact, it is hardly the Hierarchy's concern. Not even the Citadel can get involved there, because of the planet's place in the Terminus Systems. However, the fact that neither the Citadel nor our own government can get involved here without causing further trouble is part of the reason we're here. It's the reason I called you here to this briefing, because I need the best to carry out what must be done on Anhur.'

Now he switched the image on the monitors again, this time settling it upon one that Sevarn had seen before, albeit only in briefings: a simple logo, one orange and black, little more than a vague and partial oval outline with sharp angles flanked by two thick lines that also shared the same angular shape. The logo struck Sevarn as somewhat familiar.

'Cerberus?' The Major spoke the word with a somewhat dubious tone. 'What have they got to do with all this?'

'You are familiar with the organization, Major?' Venarus directed his gaze towards her.

'Of course. We've all been briefed. They're a paramilitary organization, terrorists really, all human and all intent on ensuring their species becomes the dominant one in the galaxy. From what I understand, they may have formerly been a Human Alliance black ops unit that went rogue.'

'A succinct enough description of them,' Venarus remarked. 'A renegade black ops paramilitary outfit with the resources of Cerberus is capable of things that your normal run-of-the-mill terrorists would not be able to carry out. I have it on good authority that they have been involved in a number of unethical experiments, some of which have led to the deaths of many of the humans they claim to be working for.'

'The end justifies the means,' Sevarn stated, a little louder than he had intended. Venarus turned to him and gave him a nod in reply.

'One can perhaps admire such a level of dedication, although the methods in question are certainly morally dubious. They have become an increasingly dangerous threat over the past few years, enough to get the attention of some of those higher up in our own people's government. Some want to see the problem taken care of, quietly. That is, without starting a full-scale war. Our intelligence indicates that this organization has a secret facility on Anhur, for a lawless and war-torn world makes for an excellent source of potential subjects for experimentation.' He flicked the monitor onto another satellite image, this one a birds-eye view of several square kilometres, comprised of green, rolling plains and some clusters of trees. There was a collection of grey and silver structures towards the image's centre, with a couple of dirt roads leading away from it at either end. An otherwise non-descript place, complete with its own landing pad.

'This time around, we have the intel before the humans do,' Venarus said. 'And I have the go-ahead to see us move in and not only dismantle this facility by any means necessary, but learn all we can from the computers and personnel within. This is strictly off of the books, and very few others outside of this room know this mission is even going to take place. Once we leave this planet and go to Anhur, the Hierarchy will no longer have a trail to us. That means if anything goes wrong, we'll be on our own. If we are captured on Anhur, be it by Cerberus or by any of the local factions, then our own government will deny we were there on their instruction, mainly because they will not even know about our being there in the first place.'

'Plausible deniability,' the Major said, and she narrowed her eyes. 'But why this place? Why now?'

'It's simple, Major: we don't know enough about them and what the Alliance knows, they aren't sharing. We have a significant break here, learning of this place the way we have. It's likely not even the human government is aware it exists. On the outside, it is little more than a front, a corporate entity that specialises in the manufacture of certain synthesized chemicals used in some medicines. As I said, our information here is solid and specifies something quite different. We even suspect they are manufacturing biological weapons here, but we cannot be certain.'

'So, what? We're just going to barge in and take what we want?' Captain Korlevus sounded doubtful. Sevarn shared some of that sentiment. Venarus regarded the Captain with a wry smile.

'In simple enough terms. The place is out of the way, located in the Terminus Systems and therefore the Citadel authorities cannot touch us. Our own government won't even know we're there. This is a black op, pure and simple, and a Blackwatch team is the perfect candidate to carry it out.' He glanced to Sevarn then: 'Seeing how Cerberus has many talented biotics at their disposal, it only makes sense to provide the Major's team with biotic support of its own. Lieutenant Valus, I need you to select three of those from your Cabal that you trust implicitly. They will be your support.'

'Anyone in particular, sir?' Sevarn was surprised to hear this latest instruction, but he otherwise took it in stride.

'Anyone you want, Lieutenant. I trust you with that decision. I can have them sent for right away.'

Sevarn nodded in acknowledgment. He certainly had a few people within his immediate Cabal he trusted, close friends and biotics-in-arms of whom he had worked alongside and lived with for years. The Cabals were a close-knit assortment of groups with various assignments, although as there had not been a sizeable war for some time these biotic specialists often found themselves working mundane duties. A special assignment such as the one Venarus offered would be a welcome change for three of Sevarn's closest confidantes, just as it would be for the Lieutenant himself.

'You and your respective teams will be briefed in greater detail once we reach Anhur,' Venarus explained. Nearby, Sevarn detected footsteps slowly clunking down the stairs. The door there swung open, and he turned his head to watch a white-faced turian enter the room, kitted out in a set of blue and black armour. His pale features were an unnatural shade of white, the leathery hide visible around his neck carrying a slightly darker shade with hints of red. It took Sevarn a solid moment of staring to realise that he was looking at one of the rare few born with a certain genetic condition that saw a great reduction in the metal content of their body plating, leaving them more vulnerable to Palaven's weak magnetic field and potent sun. It was, if Sevarn was not mistaken, somewhat similar to human albinism.

The eyes were most striking, tinged a bright blue from what looked to be ocular implants. This made sense, as those born with this rare condition often suffered from poor eyesight. This turian strode into the room in a confident manner that suggested he thought he owned the place. His pale features had a single line of red marking across his nose, as if put there as an afterthought. He wore a heavy pistol at one hip and a foul-smelling human cigarette jutted from his mouth. Spirits-only-knew why a turian would choose to engage in such a habit.

'Ah, Captain Marelix, there you are.' Venarus turned about to face the newcomer, who stopped a few paces from the Colonel. His stance was almost overly relaxed, and he neither saluted not stood to attention before the ranking officer. Venarus did not seem to mind, although Sevarn noticed the Major bristle at such a breach of standard etiquette.

'I'll need you to collate all our intel on the Anhur facility as soon as possible,' Venarus explained. 'We should be heading off in a few days, as soon as the final arrangements are worked out.'

This Captain, Marelix, gave the Colonel a curt nod. He barely even offered the others in the room a second glance, seemingly more interested in the slowly diminishing cigarette that stuck out from his mouth. He plucked it free then, leaving it to wisp smoke from between his thumb and first finger.

'You have any trouble with the locals, Captain?'

Marelix simply shook his head.

'Did you get the items we needed?'

Marelix gave a nod in the affirmative.

'Very good. You should get back to your duties, Lieutenant. I'll be done here soon.'

Marelix did not wait to be dismissed, he simply turned around and strolled out of the room. Venarus returned his attention to the three others seated at the table before him, noticing right away the Major's disapproving glare.

'He's my aide,' Venarus explained, as if that cleared up the whole thing. 'We've worked together for several years now. Given that we spend a great deal of our time in hostile territories far from home with little in the way of backup, the usual formalities have long since been dropped. We do have to try and blend in, after all.'

'I doubt that guy would ever blend in anywhere,' Captain Korlevus remarked. Venarus shot him a frown, and Korlevus immediately straightened up in his seat. 'What I meant to say, Colonel, is that I look forward to the mission. It sounds like it could prove real interesting.'

Sevarn felt much the same way, yet he got the strange sense that he was about to be pulled headfirst into something far more complicated than he could have ever anticipated.