Chapter Four: Shaitan

"Demons are like obedient dogs; they come when they are called." -Remy de Gourmant

Being stuck on this ship was the last thing she would have hoped for. Dez was a freighter Captain before the Batarians took her ship. There was big money in transporting supplies to the outer colonies in the terminus systems, places like Freedom's Progress. But unfortunately, it was risky business. Getting boxed up wasn't what she thought the risks were.

Dez followed the man in the black hoodie, vest, and camo pants over his armor through the dark, dingy ship. She gripped the rifle that she picked off a body in the cargo hold and followed the man at a close distance. His steps were confident and steady. He rounded a corner through a doorway to a bunk room and went for one of the beds, reaching and placing a rifle on his back. She turned her attention down the hall, waiting to see movement. He turned around and started walking back towards her. "I thought I told you guys to stay in the cargo hold?" He asked as he passed by her coming out the door.

"You said if I knew how to fly the ship..." The man turned back around.

"You do?" She looked him in the face, noticing the fresh scar on his forehead and the graying in his hair, which puzzled her; he didn't look over thirty.

"I'm a freighter Captain. I served with the Alliance as a pilot." She fired back. The man rolled his eyes, if not slightly annoyed, but accepted her answer.

"Just my luck, I thought I was going to have to Riker this shit." Dez looked at him, puzzled, not knowing what he was talking about, but he seemed amused enough.

He turned back around and continued walking. "If you're going to be my shadow, stay back. We need you alive if we have a chance to get home." Dez agreed. She had been trained to shoot a gun during basic, but she wasn't a ground pounder. Hell, she barely could remember the last time she was planetside.

"Did the alliance send you?" she asked, keeping a short distance behind him. "Nope, just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Dez was puzzled;why would a human volunteer to be on a Batarian ship? Almost every human who has spent any time in space should know what a lot of these batarian ships do. Questions for later, perhaps?

The two walked past the fresh corpses on the ground; he seemed unfazed by the carnage. She would lock onto the bodies as they passed, captivated by their lifeless poses. They gave her an uneasy anxiety, a grim reminder of how fragile existence was. She hadn't seen this many dead before. She was a pilot; after all, she never got to see the dead.

Walking past the carnage, the pair approached the bridge door. It was sealed shut. The man approached the old control panel and pulled off the metal cover with his combat knife. "Just my kind lock, old and simple," he muttered. He pulled some wires and cut a few, stripping them to the bare metal. "Come here for a sec," Dez obeyed, watching closely. He motioned to her with the wires in his hands. "Take these two wires and rub them together; they should spark." She quickly looked at him, realizing what he asked her to do. Open the door. He moved out of the way and drew a pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other. He took up his position next to the door.

Dez waited for his signal as the man breathed to ready himself. After a short pause, he nodded to her. She twisted the wires with her bare hands, giving herself a slight jolt, forcing her to recoil. The door clunked and flew open as he tossed in the grenade. A bright flash and loud explosion rang off the plasteel walls; then the man rushed in. A small firefight ensued. She approached the door slowly and recoiled after a few rounds blasted past the door. Dez heard the yelling and cries of the Batarians following shortly after a few deafening single shots. As soon as it started, it ended.

The room was quiet. She only heard the sounds of the ship, at least until footsteps echoed from the floor. Some moaning or noises from one of the Batarians pierced the silence. A single Batarian stumbled out of the room, catching himself on the wall. The man exited shortly after, grabbing the Batarian a second later, gun still in hand. He grabbed the back of his neck and began leading him back down the corridor; she followed the two but at a distance. She didn't have the faintest idea of what he would do with him. The man led the injured Batarian to an airlock and threw him against the door. The Batarian bounced off the partially windowed door with a thud and airy exiting of breath, but the man forced him back against it.

"You're making a mistake, human," the stereo voice pleaded, trying to catch his breath. If my people discover what you've done, they won't stop hunting you." The man laughed at the hollow threat like he had heard it before.

"You think this is the first time I've shot up a Batarian ship?" He continued to laugh. "Let me ask you a question: do you know what a vacuum does to a body at light speed?" Dez thought about what he was implying.This HAD to be an interrogation, he wouldn't actually do this.There's no way any sane person would do that to another sapient, no matter the crime. The Batarian turned his head behind him, noticing the airlock for the first time. He quickly turned his attention back to him. "You honestly want me to believe you will space me?" The Batarian trembled as she looked on. Dez began to get fidgety, her pulse raised, and she started to feel her blood pumping in her skull.

The man pressed the button on the wall slowly, and another smile developed. The airlock door opened. "I don't need you to believe." He shoved the Batarian into the airlock, forcing him to the ground, and sealed the door. The man waited a few seconds, almost looking proud of himself. Dez couldn't believe what she was seeing. It's one thing to kill an enemy, but this was too much. But as much as she protested and rationalized in her head, she didn't stop it.

A few moments passed as the Batarian began banging on the door, screaming inaudibly, probably begging for his life. The man pressed the button with a sickening satisfaction. In a blink of an eye, the Batarian was gone, like he never existed. Probably ripped to shreds, nothing can survive FTL speed without a Mass Effect field. The poor Batarian would have hit a brick wall at millions of kilometers per hour and turned into a pink mist in less time than it took to blink. Experiencing infinite mass in an infinitely small amount of time, Near Instant death.

What the fuck!Dez's mind erupted in a panic. She was horrified, absolutely terrified;what the hell is this thing?!The man turned away from the door, placing his pistol back on his hip. The smile had faded into a look of general satisfaction. He looked at her, peeking around the wall, and more than likely noticed her terrified expression. "Was that a little too much?" He pointed behind him with his thumb. Dez just stared at him, her expression unchanged. "Yeah," dropping his hand back to his side. "Damn shame."

He walked past her and headed to the bridge without saying another word. She remained by the wall and slowly moved to follow him as he walked past. "Well, pilot, are you going topilotthe ship?" he asked as he walked into the bridge. She tried responding, but her throat didn't appear to work. She paused, realizing it was to the brim with bile, which she forced down with a hard swallow, leaving the acidic taste in her mouth. "Yeah."

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Esel and Bekar landed their skycar a few hours ago. Bekar was leading her somewhere through the crowds of the upper commercial district. He had been leading her for hours, not telling her exactly what the plan was. But he seemed to know where he was headed. Esel made sure she stayed close; the crowd was dense, it was "evening"- if there ever was such a thing here - shifts in the mines had let out, adding to the excess of bodies. She didn't want to lose Bekar, not knowing where he was taking her.

He cut off to a clinic, stopped at the door, and turned around. Esel waited beside him up against the clinic's outer way to keep the crowd away as he looked around, possibly looking for something or someone. She waited patiently for Bekar to complete his survey of the area. He finally turned away from the crowd and towards her. "Alright," he let out a breath as if anxious. "We need to talk to someone; I heard he's in the clinic. I just need you to watch my back; I'll do the rest." Esel didn't vocally respond and nodded his way. As soon as she signaled, he turned for the door with Esel in toe.

Like the rest of Omega, the two entered the clinic, which was dimly lit but rather chilly. The dirty rock smell of the outside faded to a harsh chemical disinfectant smell. She couldn't decide which was worse, but the smell reminded her of her time in the ER. A quick vision flashed in front of her before she kicked it to the back of her mind.

Bekar walked quickly, passing the orderlies at the check-in and down a closed-off hallway for the patients. Esel heard their complaints and orders to stop but disregarded them, as did Bekar, who gave them a rude hand gesture in return. He turned through a doorway and into a room, passing by the sign on the wall. She glanced at the room number, seven.

Bekar came to a stop at the foot of the bed. The Turian was sleeping in bed and hooked up to various machines, unaware of their presence. Esel's ear began to tingle with the sounds of someone running for the room, probably to stop whatever Bekar had planned. She quickly turned and began working the holo pad next to the door, and after just a few buttons, it locked shut.Finally, quiet,She thought as she turned back around. Bekar was now standing over to the side of the bed and began lightly slapping the side of the Turian's face. "Naptime's over, Turian, wake up." He kept slapping him, nudging his face around the pillow he was resting on. Eventually, he began to stir, wrenching his eyes closed as if to fight off the new stimulus.

Slowly coming back to his senses, he quickly reached up and tried to stop him. It worked, but not the way he probably assumed. "What do you want?" The grogginess in his voice slowly cut through, giving away his normal voice. Where's the doctor?"

"There is no doctor; we need information," Bekar demanded.

"Information about what? I already told you people everything." Bekar paused and looked over the Esel. "Who did you talk to? What did you say?" Bekar barked louder. The Turian froze, either in belief, he fucked up giving the information to the wrong person or the pair being the wrong people.

"I..." Beker slammed his hands on the bed's plastic railing. The Turian recoiled, which, from Esel's perspective, looked painful from his post-movement facial expressions.

"There's something big moving though... it's being moved, I don't know by who... several people are moving in on it."

"Who are these people? What is being moved?" Esel could see Bekar getting more frustrated and gripping the railing harder.

"I don't know what it is: Blue suns and a bunch of independents."

Bekar's frustration grew quiet as the pounding outside became louder. Esel could only watch, splitting her attention between them and the door, unsure if she should ready her firearm.

"Zeta district," the Turian gasped for air through his pain. "Warehouse by the docks."

Bekar straightened himself and glanced at Esel. She nodded back to him and turned around to the door. The two opened the door, allowing the staff to rush in. They were more concerned with the Turian and passed them without acknowledgment. The pair walked back through the building, Esel wondering why Bekar didn't kill him. Maybe he never intended to; maybe he wasn't worth it. Hopefully, they had what they needed, although she was still doubtful.