Chapter Three: Droch

"Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception." - Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince.

Esel wasn't initially prepared for the mission she would be sent on. She had heard the stories of the others sent in to track this artifact down. It had an almost mythical status surrounding it. Some claimed it held the secrets of the universe; others said it would give the user powers beyond imagination. But those stories always seemed overblown. Being a Salarian, she never understood the other specie's obsession with making up superstitious stories. It was a massive waste of time and energy. She was efficient.

The Shadow broker was an easy enough employer, always good on his or her word. He paid very well for Esel's secrecy and the jobs he would send her way. She was a tracker and a damned good one. Her combat and tech skills made her a valuable asset to him. Esel guessed that's why he chose her for this. Although she didn't like the idea of going to Omega, in reality, no one does. She at least thought that even if this turned into a wild goose chase, she could at least get some kind of payout. The information given to her was sparse, to say the least.

Esel gathered herself as the transport docked with Omega. All the weapons besides her sidearm were in the bag she brought with her. Esel's slender combat armor had black with yellow highlights, switched on as she headed for the airlock. She would need her suit's kinetic barriers here; this wasn't a safe world for anyone, not even those who called Omega home. She exited the airlock, exposing herself to the station's harsh, rocky, sulfury smell. She almost had forgotten how the air here irritated her. Esel cleared her throat and moved through the terminal until she reached outside and saw the red artificial sunlight piercing between the structures around her. Few of the inhabitants paid her any mind as she walked through. She gripped her bag tightly as she bumped past the crowd, trying to find the exit.

Esel headed away from the terminal to a skycar depot; what awaited before her was her Batarian contact, Bekar. She had worked with him before; he was different from most Batarians. He was pragmatic and a bit of a joker. Laid-back and easygoing. But she still kept an eye on him regardless.

"About time you showed up; I thought I would be sitting here for eternity." The gravely Batarian leaning against the wall. He wore plain civilian clothing with no sign of armor or kinetic barriers, which she found strange. He pushed himself off the wall and signaled to her to get into a skycar behind him. Esel opened the door, threw the bag into the back of the car, and got into her seat. Bekar got in after her, took the controls, and started the vehicle.

The car hummed through the city, and the artificial red sunlight wrapped around the station bled through between the structures, almost blinding her sometimes. She could see Omega around her, all of it in its shitty glory.

"Did you get the full brief yet?" Bekar asked while messing around the controls.

"That depends on what you consider "full" means." Esel retorted. Bekar let out a small chuckle and a smile. "Yeah, getting a lot of that these days."

Esel paused for a moment, remembering the briefing she had received before she left the Citadel. Salarians rarely forgot anything. Their minds were near photographic. Some were said to be able to relive their entire lives, hour by hour, minute by minute, before they died, giving themselves almost a second lifetime to make up for their short existence.

"What's the briefing they gave you?" She asked. Bekar kept his smile and adjusted himself in his seat.

"We're looking for a Quarian, going by the name of Rinn." She is supposed to know where this thing is, or has it. But every time I've gotten close to her, something happens."

"How long have you been hunting her?" Bekar's smile faded as he let out an exacerbated breath.

"Too long." He paused as if recalling his experience. "The Problem with this job is, once it's known you're after it, it makes you a target. They think you have some bit of information that they need. And everyone is all too happy to kill you over it." Esel turned her head towards him. She could almost see the worry in his face.

"Are they after you?" She asked gingerly.

"Yeah." His short answer and tone disturbed her. She had tracked down countless dangerous people before and had run into Spectres, Commandos, and Cerberus. But the idea of random people gunning you down for information didn't sit right with her. Bekar turned his head slightly, judging her reaction, and noticed the concern on her face before she turned back forward. "It's not all that bad; you get to do a bit of your own shooting yourself." Esel wasn't thrilled with his joke; she wasn't some rampaging murderer.

"""""""""""""

The old creeky ship was filled with Human chaos, the sounds of gunfire piercing through the loud hum of machinery moving faster than light through the galaxy.

Martin had both pistols drawn as he marched through the ship, blasting any Batarian who stood in his way. He didn't want to chat; he was angry and would let the entire ship know he was.

His mind was tranquil and focused, which he enjoyed. His mind worked differently than most humans, even those well-adjusted to combat. He enjoyed a good firefight; the more chaotic, the better—as long as he was in control. Where his mind was usually chaotic, it was calm, almost in a zen-like state—completely focused on the task at hand. The loud noises kept the usual thoughts that plagued him out of his mind. Like leaving a fan on while trying to sleep at night. His body reacted almost like a machine; there was very little thought to his actions: ducking behind cover and placing well-aimed but quick shots on the Batarian crew.

Martin didn't mind the added company of reinforcements from the other areas of the ship. More fun he would experience.

Bang* His hand recoiled upward briefly before returning to its proper forward position. The Batarian, whose weapon just jammed as he came out around the corner, dropped dead to the floor.

This was too easy; he would have thought these slavers would be better at fighting, but it seemed they were better at taking unarmed civilians than facing a trained psychopath.

After killing enough Batarians, it seemed they had pulled back. Martin thought that they might have learned not to attack him directly. He turned the corner to the cargo bay access door and marched forward towards an unarmed, injured Batarian leaning against the closed door, holding his hand to his chest wound. Martin quickly stepped to him with a smile on his face, holstered his right pistol, and grabbed him by the throat. The Batarian quickly grabbed Martin's arm in a vain attempt to stop his shorter opponent.

"Get the door open, now!" he demanded. The Batarian began choking on his words as Martin increased pressure on his grip, staring unflinchingly directly into the lower set of the Batarians' eyes.

"Ahhhlriht!" The Batarian barely pushed out.

Martin released his grip, and the Batarian fell on all fours. He crawled to the door panel and pulled himself up while coughing and drooling. His breath was labored and wet. He began pressing buttons on the old mechanical terminal while Martin began pacing slowly behind him, like an animal ready to be released.

The door opened, and the Batarian turned and slid his way back to the floor, losing consciousness. Martin stepped over the body and into the cargo hold. To his surprise, it was devoid of any Batarians—just a few containers—just like the ones he remembered.

A cold feeling ran across his entire body. An uneasy feeling he hadn't felt in a long while. Just the sight of that structure made his skin crawl. He walked to the first one and looked for some way of opening it. Holo-pad or a manual release. Not finding anything, he ran to the other side and saw some panels. He began ripping the plastic panels off, revealing a control panel. He could translate some of the commands using his Omni-tool, but a loud lock was disengaged. He ran back to the front of the pod and wrestled the large, heavy split doors open. Twenty-four people, humans, some kids, some older adults, and all females. Arranged on two benches on either side, tied down by chains to the bench.

Just as he was in shock, the others were turned away from the bright lights. He remembered no lights were in the containers; they probably hadn't seen light in a while. He quickly headed out of the container and back to the Batarian outside the cargo bay and searched him. "Bingo!" He grabbed the keys out of his pocket before returning.

"I'm here to get everyone out of here." Everyone was quiet, with a few whimpers from the children, but no words were said. Martin started unlocking the first few people before he heard footsteps echoing outside. He looked up at the woman with darker skin and curly hair and handed her the key. Martin turned back around without saying a word, brandished his pistols, and headed out of the container. A small squad of Batarians was moving through the room.

"I wouldn't take another step, Batarian!" Martin yelled from behind the open door. They stopped for a moment, looking back at the leader, before being signaled to move again.

"I knew it was a mistake bringing you on." The leader paused, sauntering with his assault rifle in hand. Martin kept looking side to side, trying to cover his flanks.

"Yeah, why is that?" he responded. The leader continued to move down the center of the cargo bay while his men moved down the flanks. Martin checked his pistols; he only had a few shots left. He quietly patted down his vest, only to find that he was out of thermal clips.

"You humans get uppity when it comes to slaves. But you are an especially stupid one. Couldn't even wait until we landed. What are you going to do?" Martin grabbed one of the chains from inside the container and signaled to the captives to be quiet.

"You can't pilot the ship; I doubt you know how to fly a Batarian ship. It tells me you're a few eyes short of a brain, monkey boy." Martin crept away from the container and into the shadows. The first Batarian walked right past him. "What idiot doesn't check his corners,"Martin thought. He quickly lept out, taking the chain, wrapping it around the Batarians neck, and twisting it. Martin kicked out his knees and pressed his foot into the back of the squirming Batarian, gasping for air, halfway lying on the floor. There was a disturbing audible cracking thud sound, like bone cracking inside meat that came from the beast he had in his hands. He had broken the poor thing in half the wrong way. The body went limp and lifeless as he released one side of the chain. While technically connected to the lower half, the body's upper half thumped to the ground in a lifeless display.

""""""""""

The leader rounded the corner just as the body hit the floor. The brutality of what he just witnessed made his stomach drop to his feet. It left him breathless as this human wearing clothes over his armor turned to him with an expression he could only describe as hellish. Lex swallowed his fear momentarily and raised his rifle just as the Human sprinted off behind the container. He fired off a few rounds, missing him as he disappeared.

He quickly pursued and rounded the corner only to hear the rattling of chains make contact with plasteel then flesh. The heavy chains made a whistling sound as it cut through the air. He followed the noise only to see another brother on the ground, his face almost unrecognizable. "What is this thing?!" Lex began to panic as a short burst of gunfire rang throughout the bay. He rushed towards it, waiting behind some smaller containers. He peaked around quickly only to see another of his squad down.

"Screw this" Lex pushed off the containers and ran for the door back towards the rest of the ship. He thought if he couldn't kill this demon, he could at least trap it. At least then, the Captain would still have his ship, and Lex would still have his job. He sprinted with full force, not a single calorie spared. However, fate had a different plan. A whirring sound from behind caught up to him. The chain wrapped around his legs, causing him to trip and fall face first, throwing his weapon outside the door. Lex panicked; he looked back to see the demon walking confidently towards him. Lex quickly turned around and began crawling for the door, using his hands, completely forgetting he had legs. He didn't make it far.

""""""""

Martin stood over the Batarian, picking him up, chain in one hand and the Batarian's armor in the other. He lifted him to chest height before slamming him back to the floor, tilted to make sure he landed on his head. Martin smiled as he kicked the thing's head, knocking him out cold, if not killing him. He was quite pleased with his own display of strength and brutality. His body reacted in kind as a warm, pleasing feeling washed over him, giving him goosebumps.

He moved back to the container and saw the captives moving around outside the second container, frantically trying to open it. Martin quietly moved behind the container and followed the same procedure as before, unsealing it. There was a moment of silence, however brief, before a Horrific scream rang through the metal walls as he rounded the corner. A smell caught his attention almost immediately, although it took his mind a few seconds to process.

The males that were separated had died. The bodies were slumped over, some on the floor still chained. It looked like they had suffocated. Martin looked on as a few of the women tried to wake a few of the bodies, hoping for any sign of life. After a few moments, he turned away and tried to take a breath. The darker-skinned woman standing behind him glanced at his reaction as he started to walk away. She reached out, grabbing his arm.

"What do we need to do?" Martin stopped and turned her. "Everyone needs to stay out for now; I'm sure the rest are held up on the bridge." He replied as he tried to wipe away what he had just seen. "That's it?" She questioned. Martin shrugged off the question, not knowing what to say. "Unless you know how to pilot the ship." He turned away and began walking towards the doorway back to the front of the ship.