Out of Your Element: A Mass Effect Noir

This is a film-noir style story set in the Mass Effect universe, revolving around Ayson Spader, a human private investigator on the criminal infested space station called Omega.

There’s an old saying around here. “From Alpha to Omega, but no further from there.”

            Think of the seediest, scummiest, most dilapidated and disgusting city you can think of. Now, take the worst part of that city, the worst ghetto or barrio. Once you have that in mind, take that area in that city and spread it out over the insides of a former mining colony inside of what can only be described as a part asteroid, part space station.

            Congrats, kid, you’re now thinking of something that’s sort of close to Omega.

            There’s no law in this goddamn rock. The closest thing we’ve got is Aria, and trust me, that ain’t no law, that’s one woman with the stones and the credits to take this place by the balls and make it their own. The general public follows her, though, so I guess it ain’t my place to judge.

            So, what’s the score, you ask? Simple. The hanar got their Enkindlers, the drell have their hunter gods. The quarians have the ancestors and turians basically worship their code. Omega’s deity?

            Profit.

            Doesn’t matter if it’s eezo, red sand, slaves, or hell, even legit stuff like food and building materials. If it can make you money, you can be damn sure people are going to be fighting for a piece of it.

-----===-----

            I made my way up to the thirteenth floor of 1443 Quasar Street, room 1313. I knew it was going to be a hell of a job when I saw the unluckiest room number in the building handed to me. The door display was holographic, bright blue. Gone were the days of stereotypical peeling and faded lettering pasted onto wired door glass. This was nothing but slightly dinged up metal and a bright green holo-display with a name that flickered every few minutes.

            “Ayson Spader, Private Investigator.”

People always comment that my office is nicer than they expected. I suppose it may be, but it’s partly because I’ve been decent at this gig. I helped a certain real estate agent find the fellow who’d been stealing from him. Needless to say, Omega justice dictated the thief wasn’t around much longer. With said agent’s credits sunk into endless amounts of the Crimson, Mr. Real Estate didn’t have a means of payment. So, I was granted this cozy office free of charge for life, with my discretion included in the deal, of course.

It was a little bigger than the bedroom of my place, but for a PI’s office that’s saying something. I think what folks mean by “nice” is “clean”, because that’s about all it’s got going for it. The walls were slate gray and the faded red carpet on the floor didn’t do any aesthetic favors for the joint. A perpetually spinning ceiling fan that could never again go fast enough to be worth anything mocked my every moment, like it was trying to tell me something.

Walking in, the wall to the right had a couple of things hung on it. One was a photograph of three guys; a human, a drell, and a krogan all sitting at a bar looking like they felt the need to appear happy for whoever had the stones to take a picture of them. The human was a tall one, pale skinned with his head shaved to a short Mohawk and blue eyes like Noveria’s ice. It seemed like he was trying to hard to look like just another hard a*s in the crowd. Leather jacket and jeans he had on looked even more tired than he did.

The drell was bronze skinned with near-black red spots, not often seen. That red and black ballistic jacket he wore was the envy of most every bar we went in. His sunglasses, however, were not.

The krogan…well, he looked a little angry. But he always looked angry. Sage green plates on his head were more scarred than an Omega store front, and he had the same reptilian eyes that that rest of his kind did. Though his head was just barely above mine, the hump on his back put him at almost a foot taller than me.

In case you haven’t guessed it yet, the human in the photo was me, and I was dressed pretty much the exact same way. If it ain’t broke, as they say…

 The other adornment so lovingly placed on that wall was an old M-91 Mattock rifle. The good one, before they were revamped to the M-96 to take the next gen thermal clips. Reliable old Lily was scuffed and scratched, but had a sheen to her. I still kept a stash of the old thermals I’d been stockpiling. Never planned on using all of them, but you never know.

The other wall was a few filing cabinets, your typical garden variety, four drawers high, three across. On top of them were two more personalization items, a fake fern and a frame that one would mount an award or medal of some kind in. It was empty.

My desk had been scavenged out of the trash heap. This new office was great and all, but I’d been flat broke at the time. I could afford a new one now, but you know what they say about things and if they ain’t broke. The chipped and worn wood would do for now. I sat down in my old leather chair, leaned back, and put my feet on the desk. A deep sigh was my delayed greeting to my familiar surroundings. The courier would be along any minute to…

A knock at my door.

“Mr. Spader, sir. Courier service”, a muted voice said on the other side of the door.

“Override: Elysium”, I said quietly, the door whoosing open, revealing a young human fellow, greasy blonde hair and acne erasing all thoughts of manhood in him. He approached the desk and handed me a file folder. It was thinner than usual. Great, my slow month would continue it seemed. I transferred a few credits to the kid’s second hand omni-tool and bid him good day. He backed out without a word. I guess even with krogan around, the height and eyes do tend to still scare some people.

As the threshold to my little world closed up, I opened the file folder and looked at the prospective cases.

Ah, case number one, the classic missing pet.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought a damned pyjak to Omega, smart guy”, I muttered, crumpling the paper up and sending a bank shot off an overflowing bin across the room.

The second wasn’t a potential case, but a recruitment flyer for the Blood Pack. So, those upstarts had finally gotten their heads out of their asses and loosened race restrictions on recruitment. I took a better look at it. The flyer was two months old. Sheesh.

“Humans and Batarians welcome. Turians make appointments. No Salarians”, I read out loud, giving that piece of paper a similar experience as the previous one. It was looking like a short day already.

The third paper almost got the bank shot treatment without a look. However, the name caught my eye.

Sana. As in “Sana Shipping Inc.”

That was a big name on Omega. They weren’t near the size of Eldfield-Ashland or the folks like them, but they were a strong mid-level company specializing in shipping element zero. Anyone dealing in eezo was a big name. It fueled ships, biotics, and a million other things.

            And, according to the file, those shipments were being hit and stolen. The company’s founder and owner, Damien Sana, was offering twice…no…three times the credits I made in my best year as a reward. Strange job to go to an independent puke like me for, but who am I to turn down a free lunch? Or, rather, more than a few free lunches.

            I took a second look over the crispest, cleanest job offer ever to grace my desk and found contact information. I entered it into my omni-tool and waited a few clicks.

            “Sana Shipping Incorporated, this is Joreena, how can I help you?” An inviting female voice offered the greeting like she most likely had a million times before.

            “Yes, this is Ayson Spader, Private Investigator. I received a notice from Mr. Sana; I’d like to have a word with him.”

            “Ah, yes, Detective Spader”, she said as if remembering. Right, like you weren’t expecting the call, sweetheart. And why did everyone call me Detective? It was like calling a lifeguard a doctor.

            I shook myself a little. Now wasn’t the time for spacing off.

            “Alright, Detective Spader”, Joreena came back on the line. “Mr. Sana requests you come and meet him in his office. When is the most convenient time for you?”

            Avoiding phone conversation meant the man was living under two illusions, that his office couldn’t be bugged, and that his omni-tool was important enough to be bugged. But, when that same man is willing to give you a pay day that could set you up for years, you make a few concessions.

            “Tell Mr. Sana I’ll be there within the hour”, I said.

            “Very good”, I got back, “I will let him know. Safe travels, Mr. Spader.”

            The line went dead. I immediately made another call.

            “Kynger Neksi, Private Investigator, how can I help you?” A bored voice on the other end of the line greeted.

            “King, it’s Spades.”

            “Oh, heya, Spades. What’s the good word?”

            “Just got a line on a job from Sana Shipping. It’s a big one, my friend. Really big, and lots of credits are on the line; more than I’ll be needing. I can see this getting dicey and I need someone to watch my back. Want in?”

            “Damn straight, I do”, my colleague replied without hesitation. “And here I was about to track down a lost pyjak.”

            “Solid. Meet me at their HQ building in thirty minutes.”

            “Already out the door. See ya there, Spades.”

            The line went dead. I stood up, put my jacket on, and walked out.

-----===-----

            Classy, much too classy for Omega. It was the lobby of a business attempting to show how it could rise above the poverty and chaos of the city around it.

            Different shades of copper were the preferred choice of coloration in this three story atrium that ran the entire height Sana Shipping’s corporate HQ. A balcony leading to various offices ran around each of the upper floors. Six metallic columns held them up, and every footstep echoed in the space off of a floor so polished I could see that I missed a spot shaving that morning.

            At the front desk was, no surprise, and asari; deep blue skinned with thick, red lines tattooed beneath her eyes, across the bridge of her nose, and vertically under her bottom lip. She was working away at a computer with fast fingers; those could probably pick locks like no other with a little training.

            She saw us approach, though I can only assume she knew we were there the entire time. One way or the other, she brightened up immediately.

            “Detective Spader”, she greeted sweetly, “Mr. Sana is already waiting for you, one moment”, she pressed an intercom button on her desk, “Mr. Sana?”

            “Yes, Joree?” The intercom said back; an older, male human voice.

            “Detective Spader is here, along with”, she looked at Kynger, asking quietly, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

            “Kynger Neksi, fellow private investigator”, the drell explained.

            Joreena thought for a moment, then just took on an oh well look, “Detective Spader and Detective Neksi are here to see you.”

            “Ah, excellent, send them up.”

            The receptionist turned to us, “he’ll see you now, just take that elevator”, she pointed to an elevator door behind her.

            “Many thanks. Now, don’t you go anywhere, hm?” King said with a wink before following me onto the elevator.

            The doors slid closed.

            “Really, King?” I asked with more than a little embarrassment.

            The drell shrugged, “still single, Spades. And that right there was a fine example of Thessia’s best export.”

            “I’m sure the asari would love to hear their home world referenced like that”, was all I could add before the rather fast elevator doors popped open and we were in a rather opulent office space.

            Things were bronze, as seemed to be the upgraded version of the prevailing browns and grays of Omega. For shining half columns in the walls kept the roof from falling in on the narrowed room. It was a goddamn penthouse suite compared to my office, and widened as it went towards some giant floor to ceiling windows that showed the city of Omega in all its squalor and glory.

            As we strode up that emerald rug that reminded us with every step about all the money we didn’t have, approaching a teak wood desk that reinforced the point, I started to get a feel for just how big this job could turn out to be.

            Then there was the man behind the desk. He had the look of a man that had aged a lot over a short amount of time; the aging of stress. Hands had clearly been run through thinning platinum hair many times, a normally pristine grey suit obviously smoothed out much more than necessary.

            “Ah, Detective Spader, Detective Neksi”, Damien Sana greeted as if he’d been expecting my associate. “Welcome; please, be seated.”

            A couple of rather cushy looking leather chairs rose up from hidden compartments in the floor. Fancy. Kynger immediately took his and threw one leg over the other, instantly relaxed like always. I wasn’t so ready, and merely leaned my hands on the back of “my” chair.

            “Let’s cut to business, Mr. Sana”, I said, taking the lead. “What made you send that notice to my desk?”

            Sana nodded, taking a breath, “I am being robbed, Detective, no other way around it. Someone has been hijacking the shipments of element zero I have been bringing into Omega. These shipments, as I’m sure you know, are completely legitimate, and I have security forces to attempt to stop the attacks. However, each and every one over the past two months has been hit.”

            Kynger cut in, “if you’re bringing in eezo, and not getting your shipments…”

            Sana nodded, “yes. I must pay Aria her cut. That is the way of Omega, and normally it’s a cut I easily, dare I say gladly, pay. I have enough in my company’s reserves to cover the tribute for this month, maybe two, but after that there will be no hope. I’ll have to sell Aria my business to keep my family and myself alive.”

“You haven’t taken steps to prevent these shipments being stolen beyond your own security staff?” I inquired of the man.

            “That’s the thing, I did that the moment I started this business”, Sana explained. “My ships use a special algorithm that essentially randomizes which docking bay the ships land at. Anyone wanting to effectively set up any sort of attacks like these would have to know the algorithm.”

            “So you think it’s an inside job, then”, Kynger said it rather than asked.

            Sana’s next words died on his lips, and he offered nothing more than a solemn nod on the subject.

            “Seems the most likely course to me”, I added. “Tell me, Mr. Sana, is there anyone in your company that can access the algorithm that might have a grudge against you?”

            “Well…”, Sana thought for a moment. “Besides myself, there’s Jessup McCoy, my head of security. There were two others, but no more.”

            “And those were?” I pressed a bit.

            “My son, Del, and my late wife who I founded the company with, Vanessa.

            The wife was obvious, of course, unless she was stealing from the grave. The son, however.

            “Why would Del no longer know the algorithm?” Neksi was on top of it, switching his legs over and cocking his head to the side in his way. He never believed me when I said it made him look like a cat.

            “He left the company a couple of months back to pursue his own interests”, Mr. Sana explained with sadness. “Which I allowed him to, as was his prerogative. I have heard from him only very briefly, explaining he has joined a mercenary company, but he’ll not say which…doesn’t want me ‘over his shoulder’ anymore, as it were.”

            “Shipments start getting hit right after your estranged son joins a merc outfit”, I summed up. “There’s a big possibility right there.”

            Sana was all sorts of taken aback, “but he’d never…I mean, how could he ever…?”

            “Not all family is blood, and not all blood is family”, Neksi tried to let his intellectual side out.

            “I believe what my partner is trying to say is when credits are involved, family ties ain’t always a good enough incentive not to take advantage of someone when the opportunity presents itself”, I followed up. Same old song and dance, just on a bigger scale.

            “No, no, that can’t be it”, Sana said like insisting it hard enough would make it a fact. Poor sap. If only I had the time to tell him the stories of some of the jobs I’d worked before this one, and there’d been way fewer creds on the line in those.

            “It’s the strongest lead we have, Mr. Sana, unless you have another you’re deciding isn’t worth telling us about”, I gave the guy a good long look on that point.

            Damien Sana had the look of a kid who prepared the perfect story as to why he just busted a window only to have it shot down by the first three words out of mommy’s mouth. Not my problem, chief.

            “No, Detective Spader, I have nothing else”, he looked at the floor when he said this.

            That was that.

            “We’ll get back to you when we find anything, Mr. Sana”, I knew it was time for King to get the hell out. Sana was on an emotional boat and it was going straight to the ocean floor right now.

            So we got on the elevator and headed down. King was texting on his omni-tool. Of course. He was always doing that.

            I let my thoughts wander, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. Mr. Sana, I mean, not Kynger. Kynger’s only consistent problem was himself.

            No, Damien Sana was a rags to riches story gone wrong. Or maybe he was just the tale of what happened after the epilogue of said rags to riches story; the part they always seem to stop right before.

            Whatever. The poor b*****d wasn’t paying me to bring his prodigal son back to him. The rather rich b*****d was paying me to find his lost eezo.

            First step was finding the little lost lamb, and I knew just who to call.

-----===-----

            “Attentively. Hello, Ayson. What can I do for you today?”

            “Kweene, baby, you sound as lovely as ever today.”

            “Shyly. Oh, Spades. Reluctantly. You know I hate it when you talk to me like that.”

            “Sorry, Kweene. Listen, I need you to find someone for me. Del Sana, he’s the son of Damien Sana, left Sana Shipping to go join some mercs. Mr. Sana has no idea which group he joined up with and he’s our only lead right now.”

            “Thoughtfully. Well, Sana is a pretty big name. I’m sure I can find him. Just give me a moment.”

            “You’re the best, Kweene, have I ever told you that?”

            “Flirtatiously. Only every time you talk to me. Not that I don’t like to hear it, of course. Excitedly. Oh, here, I found it. He’s joined the Blue Suns.”

            “Well, that narrows it down a lot, at least, but they’re one of the Big Three. They’ve got thousands of members on Omega alone.”

            “Sufferingly. You may insult me but you never may wound me, Spades. You’ll find him at the Stacked Deck. That’s supposedly his most frequent hangout with some other Blue Suns regulars. Sending a picture of him to your omni-tool.”

            “Kweene, sweetheart, what would I do with you?”

            “Coyly. I can tell you some things you could do with me.”

            “Alas, I’ll never be worthy of the honor. But I’ll make sure to forward some creds to you.”

            “Jokingly. One of these days, Spades, I’ll reel you in.”

            “And what a day that will be. Ayson out.”

-----===-----

            Kynger put a face in his hands, “you lead that poor girl on much longer and I might have to get with her out of pity, Spades.”

            “An elcor and a drell, my god, please don’t put that image in my head. Think of the children”, I cut that train of thought off real damn quick.

            The Stacked Deck; place could go from a bar to a slaughterhouse in the blink of an eye for anyone who didn’t have a Blue Suns logo on them somewhere. We were gonna be in the hornet’s nest, Kynger and I both knew it. I had to make a call, the last ace up my sleeve, as it were.

            “Urdnot Jeck, you pay, I slay.”

            “Jeck.”

            “Spades.”

            “Afraid I need to call in a favor, old friend.”

            “Pfft, finally. Thought you’d let this go forever. Where do you need me?”

            “The Stacked Deck. As soon as possible.”

            “Good. Been so bored. Was about to go look for some lost pyjak. Will head there now.”

            “Appreciate it, big guy.”

            “Spades.”

            “Jeck.”

-----===-----

            The Stacked Deck used to be a s**t hole dive bar. But with the damn near constant influx of Blue Suns and other scum, now it was a well-funded s**t hole dive bar with some dancing girls that didn’t look half bad. It was dark and dingy, booth seats sunken into the floor around tables. The very back of the place was the bar itself, backed with obnoxious violet light that glowed strangely through various colored bottles of liquor.

            I spotted our guy near the back from a lucky flash of a dance light; looked a lot like his father if you took away quite a few years and added crew cut that looked like he was trying way too hard.

            Without a word, we made a bee line for that booth. He had five other Suns with him, and there were at least ten others in the joint. God awful club music pulsed in my ears and I was offered at least three private dances that I heard by passing…employees; had to smack Kynger upside the head to keep him from walking off with one of ‘em.

            I lit up a cigarette to add my own contribution to the light fog of smoke in the room, finally reaching the target.

            “Can I help you?” Del was already asking in a shout as I walked up.

            “Del Sana?”

            “Who wants to know?” He was already suspicious, standing up.

            I took a pull from my cig, crouched down, and blew the smoke out to emphasize my point, “Ayson Spader, private investigator, I need to ask you a few questions.”

            “Good for you, now get the f**k away from me”, he said, sitting back down.

            “That’s not how this game works, kid”, I said. “A few questions ain’t gonna kill you. I, on the other hand, might if you keep annoying me.”

            It was a gamble, but threaten a beta type like that, and sometimes they fold.

            Sadly, I misjudged. This little prick had more spine than I anticipated.

            “Did you just threaten me, old man?” Del stood up again, looking none too happy.

            Kynger laughed at that, my own face being content with a scowl. Old man?

            “Someone’s been stealing a lot from your daddy dearest, Del. I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”

            “Well it ain’t me, so you can step the f**k off, Spades. Yea, that’s right, I know who you are. You think you’re big stuff because you’ve made it on Omega”, the kid was just gonna rage for a while, it seemed. “Good thing eezo exists, or your washed up a*s would never be able to lift itself out of bed in the morning.”

            His comrades chuckled at that. As did I. It was a new one.

            “I’m done asking”, I finally said, over this s**t. “If you’re not responsible, then you’ve got nothing to hide. This is just looking suspicious, my little friend.”

            That’s when a M-6 Carnifex pistol’s barrel was levelled right between my eyes. That was enough to warrant a sigh from me, but Kynger’s sidearm was already unfolding in the drell’s hands. Del’s Blue Suns buddies stood up, assault rifles and shotguns in hand. Not good odds in our favor. Not good odds at all.

            “You’ve got a big mouth, Spades, and I’ve got half a mind to shut it for good”, Del said like a kid looking at an ant under a magnifying glass.

            “I ain’t little and I ain’t your friend”, Del’s voice continued, dripping with the cocky tone of someone who had already won the battle. “Only thing I’m not sure of is whether or not I wanna let your sorry hide walk away, Spades. Seems like an awfully sad ending to someone supposed to be so great of a badass. But then again, being the man who killed Ayson Spader…I kinda like the sound of that.”

            Having my head turned into a canoe by some snot nosed punk hadn’t exactly been how I’d envisioned being shoved off this mortal coil. My own M-11 Suppressor was still on my hip. Going for it was suicide.

            A hand grabbed Del’s arm, jerking it upward, a crushing grip forcing the kid to drop his gun. Del was lifted off his feet, and I had to smile because I knew exactly who was responsible.

            Urdnot Jeck, my favorite krogan, was holding Del by the arm, the terror in the young merc’s eyes was very, very real as his hanging feet helplessly kicked a bit. Del’s body was almost completely blocking his comrades’ lines of fire.

            Jeck said nothing at first, merely taking a deep inhale through his nose. Just like the big guy to be dramatic. I hadn’t seen him for a few months; since the photo in my office was taken, to be precise. He was wearing his usual muted green ablative armor suit.

            “Hmph, Suns”, he grunted in a rumbling voice not unlike a semi-truck’s engine. “This little varren pup giving you a problem, Spades? You must be getting old.”

            “Says the man who’s got a couple centuries on me”, my retort was succinct as I drew my own pistol, the silencer like an accusing finger at the Blue Suns still with both feet on solid ground.

            “One and a half”, Jeck replies, turning back to the struggling Del that was ineffectually punching at the plates on the krogan’s head. “That itches…now answer my associate’s question before the f*****g arm comes off, little pyjak.”

            “I-I-“

            “I’m not a f*****g ship captain, keep the aye ayes to yourself, little pyjak. Answer the question before I run out of patience and beat all your buddies to death with your arms.”

            Del cracked, shouting over the music, “it’s not me alright!” His tough guy veneer was utterly gone, his face a grimace, “I have no idea who the hell’s going after my dad and I don’t care!”

            There were a few moments of silence among the gathered host, leaving me to contemplate just how many bullets I was about to take in the face.

            Jeck took a big, long sniff of Del, much to the latter’s confusion.

            “He’s telling the truth, Spades”, Jeck finally said, dropping Del Sana. “Run along now, little pyjak.”

            Del’s feet met the floor. He looked at his buddies, then back to my associates and me.

            Without a word, he sat down at the table, brooding over his drink.

            “Thank you for your cooperation, Del”, I used as the transition to us getting out of there before pride got the better of logic and bullets got the better of flesh.

            We got out in the streets and Jeck finally chuckled, “well, that was less fun than I expected. Was hardly any work at all. Seems I still owe you, Spades.”

            “You say that every time, Jeck”, I said with resignation. He had to be the most generous krogan alive. I did save his life, but even that had limits in my mind. Apparently not in Urdnot Jeck’s mind.

            A guy couldn’t help but be grateful to have a krogan eternally in his debt, I s’pose. Especially a krogan exiled from Tuchanka for killing too many people. When “killing too many people” is the crime, and it’s a krogan in question, you know you have yourself a special type of fella.

            With his typically polite good-bye, Jeck trundled on off.

            “Well where does that leave us. That was our only lead”, Kynger addressed the elephant in the dirty street. “Well, besides that head of security guy Mr. Sana mentioned. Jes--…er, Jessie McKee?”

            “Jessup McCoy”, I shook my head, deflating, “I sent Kweene the name. He’s ex-military, real hardass sort. Recently remarried, creating some little bit of local hubbub; apparently he was a very eligible bachelor. He won a few medals in the Blitz. Kweene says the guy doesn’t even have any parking tickets on his record…let’s sleep on this, King. We’ll put our heads together tomorrow.”

            “Gotcha”, Kynger held out a fist. “Keep it real, Spades.”

            I bumped the fist with my own, “you, too, King. I’ll call you in the morning.”

            I looked at my omni-tool clock. 8pm, and I wasn’t tired at all. With a sigh, I turned and made my way back to my sky car, parting ways with my drell friend.

            As the aging car lifted off, my brain was buzzing. But it was about as useful as pissing into a Noveria snow storm. Our only lead had gone cold, we had nothing. Another discussion with Mr. Sana himself was the only likely way we’d get anything out of this.

            I was about halfway back to my place when my omni-tool started ringing. It was an unknown number.

            “Ayson Spader, Private Investigator”, I answered laboriously. If this was another lost pyjak…

            “Detective Spader, meet me at Nebula Silver in thirty minutes for help with your investigation”, a female voice said before the line went dead, cutting off my attempts to stop her.

            The voice was vaguely familiar, but I hadn’t heard near enough of it to have any idea who it had been.

            It was the first day of this job and I’d already had a gun shoved in my face. Now I was getting a mysterious call from an unknown party who happened to know something about my current investigation that also happened to be the biggest one I’d ever done.

            First day.

----===----

            Nebula Silver was actually a pretty decent place. Omega was a slime pit, don’t get me wrong. But even slime pits have spots where is doesn’t flow as thick. So that’s what we’ll call Nebula Silver; a thin spot in the slime. A place where the people with credits could pretend they didn’t live in a complete s**t hole.

            The hostess was cute enough, I suppose. Bobbed blonde hair under a neat little square cap like what a flight attendant would wear, petite young thing with a charming smile. She wore silver, true to the place’s name, just like the rest of the staff. Actually, come to think of it, her uniform was a lot like a flight attendant’s, only a bit higher up the thigh and lower on the neck.

            If it wasn’t for the disconcerting nature of having a gun in my face not that long ago, I probably would have made a pass on her immediately.

            “Welcome to Nebula Silver, sir”, she greeted girlishly, blue eyes batting at me. “Reservation?”

            One look at my rather casual attire should have given that away, but I refrained from comment.

            “Nah, not tonight. Table for two, if you could please…”, I said easily, glancing at her name tag, “Maggie.”

            The hostess got a little red in the cheeks, then frowned, looking truly regretful, “oh, hm, gosh, I dunno if…”

            I raised an eyebrow, a silent pleeeaaaase?

            “Weeeell”, she idly sucked on the back end of a pen that probably cost more than I made on most jobs, her eyes turned to the ceiling. “Could be risking my job…”

            “How much do you want?” I cringed internally, neutral as possible outward. This could set me dangerously in the red as far as credits went. I wasn’t poor, but bribes were never cheap.

            Maggie pondered this for a moment, slowly drawing the pen from her mouth and twirling it between her fingers. It wasn’t long before a devilish grin crept across her face.

            “Depends how much the dinner you’re going to buy me will cost”, was her mischievous reply, looking at me like a prize she’d just plucked from a claw machine.

            I couldn’t help but reward her with a laugh and approving nod; dame knew what she wanted and how to get it.

            “You drive a hard bargain, Maggie”, said her name like I’d known her for years and I handed her my card. She beamed with delight at her triumph.

            “I always do”, she replied, turning and leading me into the restaurant.

            My, my, but what a fancy place. It was all muted greens and greys, or silvers, I suppose would be more accurate. It was quiet in here, and dimly lit. It was different from the Stacked Deck’s brand of dimly lit, though. The Deck was where people went to hide. The Nebula’s was more of an intentional ambience type of deal, the kind of place where you would have a private night with that special someone, but the sort of private night where other people could see how wonderful of a private time you were having.

            Maggie led me through a bunch of tables, and that’s when I realized it. Half of these tables were open. She’d made all that up just to get me to agree to have dinner with her on the fly. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad or impressed. I went with the latter. I had enough of the former already that day.

            “Anywhere in particular you’d like to be placed, Mr…”, she flicked out my card, then crisply put it back in her pocket, “Spader?”

            “Just Ayson is fine”, I assured her good naturedly, looking around to see if my contact was still here. It was an exercise in futility. She’d come to me, I could only hope.

            “Ayson, then”, Maggie broke me out of my idle thoughts, her tone implying I still had more to say to her.

            “Oh, uhm, in a back corner, preferably”, I answered more from instinct than anything else. Some stereotypes you just couldn’t get away from in this business.

            She sat me down in a nice cozy corner, and I ordered a coffee; cream with four sugars. That killed my meal budget for this place.

            With a yawn, I lit up a cigarette, leaned back in my chair, and allowed my eyes to slide out of focus. Normally I’d take a look at the people in the place, pick out potential threats, etc, but this wasn’t a day for that. I felt rather silly, immediately coming here at the beck and call of some stranger. Hell, for all I knew, it was a trap set up by the folks who were responsible for the thefts.

            This rather pleasant zoning out was disturbed by someone sitting down across from me in a distinctly graceful fashion. I put my half-finished cig out, courteous sort that I am. I looked across from me, and couldn’t help but take on a look of surprise at who it was.

            “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me”, Joreena, Mr. Sana’s asari receptionist, said neutrally, her “on the job” tone gone. A waitress brought my coffee and, strangely enough, already had a glass of Thessian wine for Joreena.

            She must have seen the look on my face.

“Mr. Sana holds a lot of meetings here”, Joreena explained, taking a polite sip from her glass, not marring her lip paint in the slightest.

I took a drink of coffee, nodding, and setting the mug down, “so what can I do for you, then, Joreena?”

“Please, call me Joree”, she insisted, lips turning up a little. She seemed relaxed enough.

“Fair enough. But the question stands. This is a bit of an…interesting way to have a discussion with me.” I wanted to make a joke about this being an elaborate ruse to get me to have dinner with her, but if that day taught me anything, it was that such a scenario was not at all out of the question.

“I have some information for you, Detective Spader”, she began, and added after I began to open my mouth, “Spades.” Another smile. She had a very pretty smile, soft lips made it incredibly inviting.

I took a moment to give her a once over. Shoulders were slightly forward, elbows on the table, attentive and relaxed. Her violet eyes were a bit wider than seemed natural, like she had something that needed to be said and needed a good response. Her dress, conservative and simple yet formfitting and elegant, was a few shades darker than her skin. The sleeves ended in gloves at her mid-knuckle, the bottom at her ankles, and the top just below her neck. Nonetheless, every curve was plain as day. She wanted to play both sides; professional and sensual…

Bring it back in, Spades.

“Well”, I said at length, “I am all ears, sweetheart.”

            A bit of a giggle, but then Joreena got serious and right to the point, “I think whoever is responsible for the shipments being taken is operating within Sana Shipping.”

            Couldn’t help but chuckle, “not exactly a bold piece of information, there, Joree”, I realized that sounded a bit rough, “what I mean to say is that I tried that angle. The only other person that could have known the algorithm that chooses the docking locations, according to Mr. Sana himself, is Jessup McCoy. And I was assured of Mr. McCoy’s loyalty.”

            “I know you went to talk to Del”, Joree interjected, “and I know Mr. Sana vouched for his son as well, Dete-…Spades”, she corrected herself. She thrummed the table a few times anxiously. She had a ring on each finger, and they all made a muted thud against the table cloth.

            “Or Ayson”, I said graciously while thinking. Joreena had a point. I’d ignored Sana’s assurances about his son. Well, not really. I just never trust anyone when it comes to vouching for family.

            “So you’re telling me McCoy is responsible?” I doubted it heavily. A well-paying gig with damn good benefits like Mr. McCoys would ensure loyalty. Not to mention Kweene’s research. “Sorry, sweetheart, no dice. I got plenty of information that says otherwise.”

            “He’s your only lead remaining, I know that much”, Joree took a drink, looking me over. “Where else would you go from here?”

            “If I get in McCoy’s face about this, he could inhibit my investigation. I’ve met his type plenty of times before; soldiers who don’t realize a war isn’t always around them. He’d take any inquiry as an accusation and possibly get me booted off this investigation, and sorry, sister, my wallet wouldn’t be able to handle that idea.”

            Joree swirled the wine in her glass idly, “then offer to help him protect the next shipment.”

            I raised an eyebrow.

            She continued, looking at the spinning liquid, “tell him it could help you if you see the attackers in person. Plus, if you manage to save the shipment, it’ll get you in his good graces. Say you’ll do it gratis. Or rather, no additional fee beyond what Sana is paying you.”

            I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it just as quickly. The asari dame had a point. That was actually a pretty top notch idea, one that I certainly hadn’t thought of myself, mainly because there were never any friendly survivors from the jacked shipments.

            “It’ll get you a look at the culprits, and keep you out of running into a complete dead end”, Joree said in recap, reinforcing her point.

            It was true. Not to mention I’d have King and Jeck with me. The three of us could take on a corrupt turian special forces squad and come out on top. I know that from experience.

            “Alright, Joree, you make a damn good point”, I said, downing the last few drops of coffee. “But what’s in this for you? You’re putting yourself in harm’s way by helping me at all.”

            “Mr. Sana has been very good to me, Spades”, she said with meaning. “I aim to return the favor. And beyond that, if this company goes under, I lose my job; my comfortable, above average paying job that I’d never get back on Thessia. This is as much for my own benefit as Mr. Sana’s.”

            I shrugged. It made sense.

            “Alright, I’ll give him a call”, I said, paying for my coffee on my omni-tool as I stood up. “Hopefully next time we do this I’ll be around for longer than the coffee.”

            It was more meant to ease the awkwardness of my sudden departure than anything else, so when Joree smiled and said, “I’ll let you know my next day off”, I was a little surprised.

            Two dates in one day. Damn, Spades, you need to do this more often.

-----===-----

            It had been a night of flat cola, cheap whiskey, and shoddy extranet reception. The creaking bedsprings and cold shower reminded me just how badly I needed this job to work out. Helping Mr. Sana would get me off of this rock, maybe back home to Earth, or at least to Horizon or Terra Nova, maybe even Bekenstein if I found I liked helping white collar yuppies keep their fortunes after this particular gig.

The call to Jessup McCoy had gone about as expected. He accused me of indirectly telling him he couldn’t do his job, and that I was little better than a mercenary, and that he didn’t need to take this crap.

            He followed that up with a time I should meet him at Sana’s office building the next morning and an advisory to come armed.

            I slept a few hours, then awoke to slip an armor vest on, then walked out the door, shoving a protein bar down my gullet in the process. I made the trip to my office and grabbed my Mattock rifle off the wall, checking it over before loading a mag into it and taking three spares that slipped into pouches on my vest. I hit the button that collapsed the gun, put it on the vest’s back magnetic strip, and grabbed twice the ammo for my side arm that I placed on my hip.

            I met Urdnot Jeck and Kynger Neksi at Sana Shipping, and McCoy arrived in an SUV that looked closer to a tank than a private vehicle. Jessup himself was the spitting image of “ex-military”. His greying black hair was in a crew cut, and amber eyes were forever affixed on potential threats. He was just a bit shorter than me, but he was built like a damned Sequoia tree. He was in Alliance standard issue battle armor that had been repainted to Sana Shipping’s trademark bronze coloring.

            “I have no idea what we’re gonna be facing when we get in there, gentlemen”, McCoy said grimly while driving the SUV that we’d gotten in. “We’ve lost so many of our security personnel already that I have to personally oversee this operation. It’s causing my wife no small amount of grief.”

            I looked at McCoy’s hand on the steering wheel. Sure enough, his ring finger bore a black metal ring with a pale blue, tear drop shaped stone set into it.

            “Interesting ring”, I commented off handedly.

            “Yea, it’s Thessian Opal. My wife has particular taste in jewelry. Just got married a couple months ago”, he said in a half-boast. How was that something to brag about? Typical rifle jockey bullshit was what it was; always one upping everyone else.

             “But anyhow, as much as I hate to say it, with you three here, we might stand a chance. Especially you, Detective Spades”, he added, “I did a background check on you before Mr. Sana offered you this job. I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be�"“

            “It’s a number following a letter, at this point. Nothing more”, I closed the point. Not many people on this rock new what McCoy was about to say, and I was just fine with it.

            That damned Shepard had to make all of us into a publicity piece.

            “Well, in any case, we better get ready”, McCoy cautioned. “Maybe this time things will go differently.”

            Great. That was always a great thing to say before something like this.

            “Maybe you should have taken better precaution when hiring your security grunts”, King’s voice croaked from the back. “This sounds all too much like an inside job to me. You wouldn’t have to know the locations beforehand if you’re going to be directed to them to defend them anyway, you get me?”

            McCoy’s words, probably a stirring and inspirational defense of the integrity of his fallen comrades, died on his lips. It seemed he’d not thought of that option.

            “That is a possibility I had not considered”, McCoy dropped his hard a*s veneer for a moment. “But, all our men are accounted for...none survive, as I’m sure Mr. Sana no doubt has told you. I’d have camera evidence if these b******s didn’t knock them out each time they attacked”, he said the last bit through gritted teeth. “But no, we’ve found the bodies of all our security at each attack site, each and every time.”

            He answered my next couple of questions right there. Whoever was doing this was a real class act. But this class was about to get three new students, and it was time for a pop quiz.

-----===-----

            I never did like starship hangars. One layer of mass effect field between me and the endless void of space tended to make me rather uneasy. So you can imagine my levels of “uneasy” when I was 100% certain I was about to get into a firefight in one of them.

            It was a single ship hangar bay, just big enough for the Kowloon Class freighter carrying Damien Sana’s current bandit bait. Kowloon freighters and their bigger Athabasca cousins always made me think of what a manta ray would look like if you grabbed him by the nose and tail and stretched him into a rectangle then made him swim backwards; a raised “spine” in the middle, the side “fins” were modular cargo compartments, and the “tail” of the bridge jutting forward.

            Besides Jessup and the…*sigh* Magnificent Three, as Jessup had taken to calling us, Sana had seven of his personal security staff left. I could tell a few things about these guys. They had military experience, because they were hiding their fear very well. I could also tell that they had fear to hide; there was false bravado conversation and plenty of discussion as to what they were all gonna do after they survived today. I wasn’t sure if that was reassuring.

            The hangar itself was just long enough to fit the 100m length of the unnamed Kowloon, with ample space on the sides for loading. Typical of Omega, there were grease stains, scorch marks, and random bits and bobs from ships scattered all around, but this one was a noticeable amount cleaner than others I’d seen. Sana’s doing, no doubt.

            The catwalks above the ship were parallel, running the length of the hangar. We Magnificent Three were all up there, behind metal boxes for cover, staring daggers at the hangar’s only entrance just as the ship’s crew was starting to disembark with the cargo. McCoy and his men were in two groups, both covering the door from different spots behind box forts.

            “Hm...I can see how your men couldn’t handle this”, Jeck’s voice echoed from the opposite catwalk. I had to suppress a snort.

            McCoy said nothing, didn’t even growl angrily. Had to hand it to him, the guy was a professional. I couldn’t help but agree with Jeck on this one, though. Here we were, crouched behind a bunch of boxes, sitting in silence as the cargo was offloaded. Maybe the bad guys caught wind of the attack.

            “Oh, my box just moved”, King said in what sounded like a joking tone. Or was that surprised?

            “Alright, that’s enough joking around, can it guys”, I said.

            “No, like, Spades, seri�"“

            It hit me like a ton of bricks. It was silly, childish even. But where was the last place you would expect a band of thieves trying to ambush you from to jump out of?

            Most of the boxes in the room, thirteen in total, burst open. Each was big enough to house a human, turnian, batarian, or about one half of a krogan.

            Unfortunately, the box in front of me was the second item on that list and not the last. The lid popped off and an Avenger assault rifle was pointed in my face. Instinct kicked in at that point. I slapped the barrel of the assault rifle aside with my own, tapping a button just under my Mattock’s barrel. A 12”, mono-edged bayonet flipped out in time for me to skewer the son of Palaven that just tried to turn me into Swiss cheese. The blade went into the joint between blue armor and blue full-helm, right through the neck. He cried out in his dual-toned voice and slumped over the edge of his hidey-hole, deader than space dust with deep violet blood spattered on the inside of his visor.

            That was definitely merc armor, that much was obvious. A closer inspection would take place when the bullets weren’t flying.

            It was time to take stock. Three of Sana’s men were dead or otherwise out of commission, along with a total of only two mercs including the one I had killed. The catwalks were a deadly crossfire, our cover behind the boxes made essentially irrelevant by the enemy’s manner of attack. So I did what any sensible man would do. I put a foot on the catwalk railing and leapt out onto the freighter’s top. It was a calculated risk, but my kinetic barrier would tip the odds back toward me a little.
            I hit with knee bending impact, then turned to see two of the mercs had decided to use the sincerest form of flattery, imitation, and follow me. There was a smattering of automatic fire on hitting around me, but they couldn’t shoot for s**t midair with that recoil. Only a round or two managed to plink me, bringing my barrier down to 82%.

I brought my Mattock up, which coughed twice like thunder amidst the tatatatatatat of the merc’s Avengers and claklaklak burst fire of the Vindicators wielded by Sana’s men. The first round ate up the left jumper’s kinetic barrier, the second ate up his chest cavity. The batarian hit the ship’s roof with an armor on hull clank and sprayed his viscous brown blood in front of him.
            The human, however, landed amid that display, coming down with the butt end of his Avenger aimed at my face. An easy side-step and stab put the bayonet in his gut, just barely stopped by his barrier. I squeezed the trigger three times, all of them punching through and expanding the merc’s belly button by about half a foot.

I looked up to the catwalk where I’d been. King was doing his omni-blade kung-fu thing and had already sliced open the other two mercs up there. I glanced over to see Jeck holding a dead mercenary by the leg and clubbing another to death with the corpse. Ah, I had missed Urdnot Jeck.

So the catwalks were covered. That was good news. I ran to the edge of the ship to see the bad news. One of McCoy’s groups of four had been wiped out in the surprise attack, only a pair of merc corpses mixed in with them. Jessup himself was making a damn good showing, he and his group of three standing like goddamn boulders in a river of flying bullets. He shouted orders, taunts at the enemy, encouragement to his men. Reminded all too much of the Blitz.

They held their ground, their ambushers dead to a man, but they could only do so much when they were back against the proverbial wall against all the others. They couldn’t move, were outnumbered two to one, and were slowly being flanked.
            The mercs were all perpendicular to me, or with their backs to me. It was dirty work, blindsiding bad guys, but necessary. I started pumping rounds down on them, draining my current clip and slamming another one in. King and Jeck started adding to the bullet storm, and the mercs realized they’d been outdone. The three left standing tried to drop their guns and surrender, but McCoy’s men were out for blood. The mercs were gunned down to a man. I wanted to protest, but I admit, I felt for those guys. Their comrades had been killed time and again and they were due for some payback.

So, I held my tongue. The bodies would probably be enough to give us a lead with Kweene’s help.

So before I knew it, I was standing over the merc corpses. We’d grabbed them and lined them up, and one thing became immediately evident.

Blue Suns. These guys were all Blue Suns.

“Jeck”, I said. “You said Del was telling the truth.”

The krogan grunted with frustration, “he was, Spades. So either he’s the best goddamn liar I’ve ever encountered, or everything’s not as it seems here.”

I trusted Urdnot Jeck with my life. If that’s how he said it was, that’s how it was, no questions asked.

McCoy walked up, “we got ‘em. We got the b******s. Aria’s gonna gut the rest of these sons of b*****s when she finds out.”

I held up a hand, “no, not yet, Mr. McCoy. There’s something missing here; a piece to this puzzle that’s fallen of the table and under someone’s chair.”

McCoy raised his eyebrow at me, then looked at Kynger, “he always talk like that.”

King nodded, “yea, pretty much. You should hear him try to pick up a woman at the bar.”

While my compatriots were bantering, I leaned down over the human I’d taken out on the top of the ship. He was wearing dog tags, which wasn’t uncommon for mercs.

But this was an act that would piss Aria right the hell off. The Big Three always avoided that when possible. So why would these guys not only wear their armor, but wear dog tags?

There was only one place I was going to find the answer. I collected all the tags.

“Mr. McCoy, I assume you can handle things from here?” I asked, my mind half-aware of my surroundings.

The man nodded, “yes, should be alright. I know Mr. Sana is the one you’re working for”, he said, voice softening, “but you Magnificent Three are alright in my book”, he shook all of our hands, “I know my wife would be grateful to you, as well as my men. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Mr. McCoy”, I said, then, “King. Jeck. Let’s go.”

“Where we headed? To get a drink, I hope, I haven’t been in a firefight like that in months”, Kynger whined.

Jeck just grunted a gruff laugh, then, “heh, too loud for you, little pyjak?”

The drell’s retort was cut off by me saying, “we’re going to pay a visit to some interested parties.”

My comrades waited for me to continue.

I smiled as I told them where we were going. They did not smile back.

-----===-----

            The Blue Suns guards at the door to their HQ immediately took all of our weapons and kinetic barrier units. I’m surprised they didn’t shoot us on sight, with what we just did to their buddies.

            I’d called Joreena on the way here, telling her that her hunch had been correct and thanking her profusely over King making disgusting kissy-face noises. She’d laughed, said that our date was going to be on me whenever it happened as thanks to her. I was more than happy to oblige that idea.

            But first I had to get out of the Blue Suns HQ with the same amount of blood in my body that I had entered with, which would be a tall order I had the feeling.

            The three of us were led through the halls. Three guards covered King and I. Five Suns covered Jeck. I’d told them I wanted to talk to Achilus Kadex, a turian and current head of the Omega branch of the Suns.

            We were led to his office, the war room of the building. He was currently looking at a holo-display and was none too pleased by it. Seven men with officer markings on their armor looked with him. That made sixteen heavily armed and armored mercenaries versus three unarmed “guests” that had just killed off several of their merc buddies. Eh, there have been worse odds.

            The room was a lot like Achilus’ apparent mood. Dark, with a grim red glow coming from the holo-display. It was a casualty report from what I could tell. Oh, s**t. Had they already found out about us in the hangar? The dark skinned turian eyed us suspiciously, his silver arrow shaped face paint on his forehead turned blood red by the holo-display’s light. Some exposed wiring hung from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with officer quality weaponry.

            “What the hell do you want, Spader?” Achilus growled. “I have little time or patience to deal with you at the moment with my men dying in the streets.”

            As agreed before we entered, I would do the talking.

            “They’re also dying in starship hangars”, I said casually. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

            The grizzled turian cocked his head to the side, “I was speaking in generalities, human. My guards said you told them this matter was most urgent. If you’re going to taunt me, I will have you beaten and thrown out”, a contemplative pause, “and that’s if I decide I don’t want you shot.”

            “That’s not a taunt” I said, tone unchanged, “I have something for you, and shooting me is not an efficient way of getting it, I assure you.”

            I tapped a few slow, deliberate commands into my omni-tool, as to not threaten my babysitters. A picture display popped up, showing the line of Blue Suns corpses in the hangar.

            “These guys were…interfered with…as they tried to jack a shipment of element zero from a Sana Shipping Inc. freighter. And I’ve been hired to put a stop to said attacks. Rather sloppy of you to send them in there so equipped in their company armor. Why not just hang a neon sign on the HQ saying ‘it was us!’?”

            Achilus’ eyes narrowed. I think I upset him. Well, someone was being rather sensitive, now weren’t they?

            “I have no idea what you’re talking abou--…”, he stopped, “You’re the ones who were harassing my recruits at the Stacked Deck.”

            I nodded, “yea, little Del Sana and I had a nice chat. I insisted the Blue Suns weren’t involved in all of this.”

            “Well what he told you was the goddamn truth.” Achilus snarled. “My men would never do something so stupid. That would bring Aria’s wrath down on us as sure as attacking her directly.”

            “Evidence to the contrary”, I pointed to the image on my omni-tool, then hitting a button that made it disappear. “Admit it, Commander Achilus. You’ve been found out. And if you kill us, that will be all the evidence needed that you’re covering something up. Then Aria, I’m sure, will want to have some rather more aggressive words with you than I currently am. All I want is for you to stop hitting the shipments. I don’t want any problems beyond that.”

            I took one of the dog tags from my pocket and made a show of tossing it onto the display table, making the floating images fizzle a little bit, “here, I figure you’d want this back.”

            Achilus looked at the tag and was about to hand it off to a subordinate before looking at it again, his eyes going wide.

            Boom. That was all the proof I needed. All I needed to do now was go back to Mr. Sana and…

            “Detective Spader, you say you got this from one of the men that attacked you in Sana’s hangar”, Achilus’ voice changed dramatically, the challenge gone from it, as he pointed with emphasis at the dog tag before him. “This man…”, he read it again as if making sure, face still a mask of disbelief, “Michael Rathers is dead.”

            It was my turn to c**k my head to the side, “uhm, no disrespect for the dead meant, Commander, but I’m rather aware of that fact. I’m the one who made him that way.”

            The turian shook his head, “no, no, you misunderstand me. Legionnaire Rathers has been dead for two months. He was killed in a firefight with the Blood Pack. His body was never recovered.”

            “Nice try, buddy”, I started, but he just held out his hand.

            “Do you have any others?” Achilus asked, anxious. “Hand them over, if you do.”

            Slowly, I did so, wondering what game he was playing.

            Commander Achilus looked at each dog tag, certainty growing in his face with each one, as well as horror.

            “Detective Spader, these men have all been killed before today. Most in combat with the Blood Pack, but some simply disappeared and were presumed dead, here, take a look.”

            Achilus brought up a copy of what he was looking at so it was facing me. Sure enough, it was a list of dead Blue Suns, all dead within a span of several weeks prior to the engagement in the hangar. Each name had a cause of death by it. I recognized some from the dog tags I’d just handed over, they were listed right next to other unfortunate names I didn’t recognize at all, yet were recorded as being slain in the same events.

            It clicked. I finally found that last puzzle piece and it fell right into place. Shipments suddenly start getting hit by Blue Suns in uniform, wearing dog tags of dead and missing Blue Suns. I thought of the Blood Pack recruitment poster crumpled up and laying on the floor of my office.

            “Those guys are Blood Pack”, I said with disbelief. “They’re trying to frame you and get you killed off by Aria.”

            The room went deadly silent. No one knew what to say to that.

            Well, besides Achilus, “I will not stand for this. I will NOT let this happen. We’re going to take the fight to the Blood Pack. We’re going to make them pay for this.”

            “You won’t be able to take them on by yourselves, Commander”, I advised him, now invested in the Blue Suns’ plight, mainly because I’d been fooled, too. “You won’t have the strength and the Blood Pack’s numbers have swollen recently.”

            The turian gripped the table tightly with three-fingered hands, “then what do you suggest, Detective? I cannot…will not allow this to go unanswered.”

            I smiled at him, a wolf’s smile, and “I can think of someone who would be interested in helping you out here.”

            My associates sighed, Jeck muttering, “I was better off looking for lost pyjaks…”

            King said something to, but is was rather obscene in nature.

            I outlined my idea to Achilus. He seemed to approve. That was all I needed.

-----===-----

            Afterlife was the type of place tourists on Omega came to get a feel for the “grittier” side of the galaxy. It was a watered down, sterilized presentation that let the armchair explorers out there spend one hour on the darker side and feel like they were hardasses now. And why not? It had all the basics; an dim ambient glow of red lighting the joint, a private VIP section of the club, and even an extended dark hallway where shady deals could go down separating the two areas of the main part of the club.

            There were scantily clad asari dancers, holo-displays emitting images of fire, but most importantly above everything else, a crime boss sitting in a predominant spot where she could observe what could be called the capital of her little kingdom that was Omega.

            From her throne overlooking Afterlife, Aria T’Loak ruled with an iron fist. Of course, she had her back to the rest of the club on the other side of military grade, bulletproof see-through polymer, a little bit of detailing on a carefully manufactured scene.

            It was up to that observation deck where the woman herself sat that I was bound for. I left Jeck and King at the bar. Back up was pointless here. This was the goddamn varren’s den, the belly of the thresher maw. If anyone did anything Aria didn’t like, they would meet a quick and painful end in one of a thousand ways mere minutes after leaving the club.

            I approached the stairs where one of her favorite hounds, a batarian named Grizz, looked me up with four eyes that got progressively more disgusted as I looked to each one. Batarians liked confusing other sentient species with the fact that most had no idea which set of eyes to look at. I just looked straight at his flat, slitted nose. Just to f**k with him.

            He growled at me through needle teeth, and managed to sputter, “Ayson Spader. Aria’s not taking appointments.”

            “Ah, Grizz, my old friend”, I stared pointedly at his nose some more, and he inadvertently went cross-eyed with all four eyes to see if I was looking at something he couldn’t see. “We both know how this goes. So just save yourself the trouble and let me talk to Aria.”

            “F**k off, human”, he looked me straight in the eyes with his upper pair. “I’m not playing your games today.”

            I sighed, “fine, fine. But it’s your a*s when I can’t tell Aria about the people stealing from her and they get away scot free.”

            Grizz growled again, it was his favorite word, before jerking his head toward the stairs and allowing me to follow him up.

            It was one story up, and as I got to the top, I looked to where Aria usually sat. But she was currently blocked by a trio of her bodyguards, two turians and a salarian.

            “Grizz, I recall telling you I wasn’t taking any appointments today”, a sharp, completely self-assured, female voice cut the air like an omni-blade.

            “Er…yes, ma’am”, Grizz stuttered, “but this human…has some important information for you. He says someone is stealing from you.”

            Even through the god awful club music playing, the silence in the room was the most deafening thing to be heard at the moment. It lasted nearly twenty seconds.

            “Scan him”, she commanded.

            The salarian, an amphibious humanoid with no nose, a big mouth, and two fleshy horn like protrusions sticking out of his head,  stepped up to me with a data pad that sent an orange beam over me. The turians had their hands ready to bring pistols to bear in a moment’s notice. There was no need. I’d left my Suppressor with Kynger.

            “He’s clean”, the greenish-yellow skinned salarian said quickly, blinking flat black eyes rapidly. Damn salarians. Lived half as long, thought twice as fast as humans.

            The three guards stepped aside and there she was; the woman herself.

            Aria T’Loak’s face told you she owned you, and if you happened to be on Omega at the time, it was pretty much the truth. The asari’s skin was a bright, vivid purple. Black tattoos in thin crescent shapes ran from both ears to her chin, as well as a pair of black arcs between her eyebrows, with one last stripe under her bottom lip. The queen of Omega loved shiny leather, and wore an unzipped white jacket of that very material that left her midriff and cleavage completely exposed. Along with black leather pants and heeled boots that hugged like a second skin, she was a sight, that much was certain.

            Look all you want her appearance seemed to say. You’ll never have it.

            “Oh, Ayson”, Aria almost sounded disappointed. “And here I was hoping for someone I wanted to see”, she gestured to her right to an open spot on the horseshoe shaped leather couch that was her throne. I sat perpendicular to her. She looked straight ahead, and only over to me for the briefest glances, like I wasn’t worth the brain power to process my very presence.

            “I thought you didn’t want to see anybody today”, I joked offhandedly as I sat down.

            Aria T’Loak was not amused. Her eyes narrowed. “Spades, we both know I hate it when you come here. You never bring me good news. So maybe you should just get to the point.”

            The maybe was said in a way that conveyed right now.

            I got out my cigarettes, offering Aria one with a grin. She shook her head, “Terrible habit. Now you were saying?”

            I lit up, pulled in a few puffs, then opened up, “what would you say if I told you that thieves have been ripping off shipments of element zero from Sana Shipping Inc., while wearing stolen Blue Suns uniforms in an effort to shift the blame to the Suns in case they get caught?”

            “Well, Spades, I would say that mouthful sounds like a load of bullshit to anyone else. But this is you we’re talking about. So by the goddess, it must be true.” Aria sounded resigned, not surprised in the slightest. Always in control. Always unfazed.

            “It is true. And for once I’m not just here to ask your permission to do something stupid on your turf”, I said slowly, priming her for the big question.

            She looked straight ahead still, completely silent, looking like I’d just shot her favorite dog.

            “The Blood Pack are the ones responsible. And pretty soon people are going to know they’ve been stealing what is rightfully yours with impunity”, I said with a smoky exhale. “Now that wouldn’t be good for the general populace to hear, would it?”

            Aria nodded a single, curt nod, “no, that wouldn’t do at all.”

            “Seems to me they should be dealt with, put in their place, as it were,” I continued.

            “I find myself in the rather unsavory position of agreeing with you, Spades”, Aria quipped.

            “Now, the Blood Pack has worn the Suns down, there’s no way they can fight the Pack on their own. Even with the help of a certain private investigator and his two comrades in arms.” I did my best to look disinterested, but was getting nervous, “and while this investigation, and reward, are mine, there’s no way I could see it through to the end without some additional help.”

            “Sounds to me like anyone agreeing to this would be getting the short end of the stick.” Aria found a weakness and pounced on it, though her tone remained completely unchanged.

            I chuckled, taking the cig from my mouth, “except there is a rather large amount of eezo caught in the middle of all this. I certainly have no use for it. And Mr. Sana is successful enough that, once his shipments are coming in unopposed again, he’ll pick right back up even if he doesn’t get his stolen cargo back. This isn’t even getting into how it would reinforce my as-of-now-unnamed helper or helpers with their fearsome reputation.”

            Aria gave another clipped nod, albeit this one was a bit slower. She was considering it.

            “All I would want is some extra firepower for when I decided to play action hero and go storming into the breach in a surgical strike against the Blood Pack HQ. They’d get put back their place, and then we could figure out where this eezo has gone”, I cut the bullshit after that, “so how about it, Aria? Sound like a gig you’d be interested in?”

            Aria sat for a full minute in silence, scowling all the while in her customary way, considering.

            She lifted her omni-tool to her mouth, saying, “Grizz.”

            “Yes, ma’am”, the batarian’s deep voice replied immediately.

            “I need you and fifty of your best armed and ready to go in the next hour. You’ll go with Detective Spader and you will obey his every command until I tell you to. Understood?”

            There was zero hesitation from Grizz, “as you command, ma’am.”

            “Good”, Aria hung up, turning to me for an extended period of time for the first time. “You surprise me, Ayson. Here I thought all of our exchanges were going to be one-sided, but if this goes through, you may find yourself in my good graces.”

            There was a hint of seductiveness in her tone and she shifted so her jacket opened a bit more. I knew it was an act; another layer of manipulation. I wasn’t anything special to her. I wouldn’t bite.

            “We’ll worry about that once the job is done”, I said, standing, “I’ll send your men the coordinates where I’m meeting the Blue Suns.”

            “Don’t get my men killed, please. Only I’m allowed to do that”, Aria said as I walked toward the stairs. “And Spades.”

            I stopped and turned around, half expecting a bullet or biotic blast in the face.

            “You didn’t comment on my outfit a single time. So unlike you”, she smiled for the first time, a humorless expression that could melt starship hulls.

            “No words could do it justice, Miss T’Loak”, I said easily, deflecting. “No words could do it justice.”

            I walked out, arrogant laughter from the biggest crime boss on Omega following me down the stairs.

-----===-----

            The Blood Pack compound wasn’t pretty. That’s to be expected when the joint is run by krogan and vorcha. Some members of the other Council Races may think humans are vermin, but we’re the Protheans themselves compared to the vorcha. They’re all sandstone colored skin fit tightly over ropey muscle and hardened bone. Clawed hands and feet make them a nightmare up close, like their fang teeth. Their pointed ears and orb eyes are too big, and I don’t even know what the hell those pits in their foreheads are for.

            You shoot ‘em but don’t kill ‘em, the wound closes in a few minutes. They can survive the vacuum of space for longer than any other race and the crushing depth of the ocean as long as they have an oxygen supply. Kill one, and there are two more to take his place.

            If humans are vermin, then vorcha are a fungus sans the creeping subtlety. Plus they have those weird tendons connecting their elbows to their hips and that is just gross.

            So when the building’s exterior gave off the vibe of a nest as opposed to an mercenary company HQ, I wasn’t surprised. The rundown office building was only two stories tall, but if our estimates were correct, my comrades and I were going to be outnumbered at least two to one. Probably by more, considering they had the recent influx of humans, batarians, and turians.

We were scattered in alleys and on a few rooftops surrounding the building. We had the element of surprise, not to mention the best of the Blue Suns and Aria’s men. It was technically night time, according to the galactic standard calendar, so we hoped a lot of them would be asleep.

            A former N7, former drell assassin, and the son of the current leader of the krogan race didn’t hurt too much, either.

            The plan was to sweep in from all sides before the Blood Pack knew what hit them. They were a brazen lot, suited for brutal assaults and, put plainly, terror tactics. Defense was not their cup of ryncol.

            I checked my Mattock, Suppressor, and kinetic barrier for the third time. Everything seemed to be in order and we were all in position around the dilapidated structure. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

            King and I zip-lined onto the roof and quickly made our way over to the roof access door. King picked the lock and we snuck our way down the stairs.

            It was a pretty simple idea. The two of us were to go in and covertly take out as many hostiles as possible, preferably officers. Though, since most officers were krogan, that wasn’t gonna happen covertly without a lot of luck. Once we got spotted, or one of the bodies we left behind was found, the rest of our merry band would come rushing in too fast and loud for the Blood Pack to put up a good defense. Sounded good on paper.

            Nonetheless, King and I crept our way down to the bottom of those stairs to another door. He picked this one a lot slower, but more importantly, a lot quieter. Silent as space, the door opened and we tiptoed in.

            We were in a maintenance room, complete with a work bench and tools for all sorts of work. A vorcha in a polarized shield mask was doing something with an acetylene torch on the work bench. He never heard the two pops from my Suppressor that tore through is back. He hit the floor and I put another round in his head. You can never be too careful with vorcha.

            I wasn’t a huge fan of killing like this. Granted, I wasn’t a “fan” of killing in general, but sometimes there was no other option. Plus, these guys were scum, responsible for the deaths of Sana’s people. I didn’t care too much about the Suns. They were only a couple of steps above the Blood Pack.

            So as Kynger stowed the body in the roof access stairwell, my scruples were pretty minimum. I opened the other door in the room. Surprise, surprise, it lead to a hallway. The lighting in here was really crappy, though krogan and vorcha had excellent low-light vision, so I suppose that made sense.

Here in the lion’s den, I felt a little naked in my armor vest. I was hesitant to keep moving. But I knew I had to. The hallway was vacant, thankfully. There were plenty of doors to pick from, so I turned right and went into the first one I came across. It was the right side of the hall. With King covering me, I pushed the door open.

It was a locker room. Immediately before us were two rows of lockers ending at the wall a few yards away. We crept to the left, passing to more empty alcoves full of lockers. I could hear a shower running. Those were straight ahead, the attached bathroom off to the right. I sent King that way, and after a deep breath, stepped into the shower with my Suppressor raised.

A krogan was in there, standing under one of the shower heads, his back to me. Reflexively, I started pumping the trigger. I put nine rounds into the big guy. After three, he was turned around, seven he was charging me, and nine he was bleeding out on the floor. Krogan could regenerate, too, but not on the level vorcha could. He’d be dead soon.

So I reloaded and put two more in his head. I jumped the poor b*****d in the shower; the least I could do was ease his passing.

I met up with King, who helped me tow the dead krogan into the bathroom stall adjacent to where a dead human lay with a broken neck. I turned on another one of the showers to wash the krogan blood away and we moved on.

A locker closed. Someone had walked in while we were hiding the bodies. The blood wouldn’t be gone yet and the dead guys were in the stalls. This could be trouble.

King and I were still in the hall leading to the bathroom when a pair of vorcha with towels around their waists spotted us.

It was over in moments. I emptied that mag from my Suppressor into both of them. I reloaded again, now down to three thermal clips, including the one in my pistol. Conservation was difficult when fighting regen capable species.

King and I slipped out of the locker room, not wanting to get caught in there. We stepped out into the hall to plot our next move.

We got caught between doorways as another krogan and two vorcha emerged from a door only a couple yards in front of us. I thumbed the “go” command on my omni-tool right then before King and I opened up on the trio.

Surprising a naked krogan with bullets in the back is a lot different than shooting one full on from the front, especially one wearing armor. The vorcha went down with little issue, King and I perforated them a few times, but we couldn’t bring to bear against the krogan in time. He charged, throwing King into the wall and knocking me on my a*s. My Suppressor went dry and I had no way of reloading in time.

Shot up but far from incapacitated, the krogan roared and tried to stomp my head into the floor. I rolled out of the way just as King regain himself and put the last rounds in his pistol clip into the krogan’s back. They may as well have been spit balls; this big guy was pissed and in a battle frenzy. He turned to smash Kynger into the wall right.

I used that distraction and got Lily off of my back in a split second, instinctually finding the button that unfolded it as I grabbed it. By the time I had it in my hands and aimed, the big rifle was fully opened and good to go. Two rounds got the krogan’s attention on me just before he splattered my drell friend, and three more directly in the face put him down for good.

The adrenaline still pumping, I didn’t feel the soreness and bruises that charge gave me just yet. I could hear the building stirring through the blood hammering in my ears just as a few explosions rocked the place and all hell broke loose.

They zip-lined through second story windows, blasted the front door off its hinges, and leapt through windows on the ground floor. The impromptu strike force I gathered was in full shock and awe mode, and I could hear weapons discharging all around, as well as the usual accompaniment to this sort of music in the form of orders being shouted and screams of pain.

Through all of this, King drew his pair of Shuriken submachine guns and joined me in clearing the room our late krogan friend emerged from. Only two more vorcha in there. The wooden table they’d been hiding behind to ambush us proved much too thin.

A few Blue Suns emerged from the maintenance room, almost shot King and I as we came out of the room, then turned their attention the other way.

I’ll spare you the details on the rest of this, as it couldn’t really be called a battle. Sure, our side took a few casualties. And sure, Jeck threw a helmet so hard it shattered a batarian’s skull. But the Blood Pack were completely unprepared for such a coordinated strike, and turns out I killed their second in command in the shower. Once their leader died, no one could take the reins of the defense, and the joint assault rolled right over the Blood Pack. Much to my dismay, no quarter was given to those who surrendered at the end of the engagement. It was a massacre, no other way to put it.

This slaughter became legendary within a few hours. Aria claimed responsibility for it. The people believed her. Worked for me.

I found their main computer room and Kweene walked me through how to patch her in. It was laughably easy, according to her. Within minutes, she had a full record of where all the eezo had gone. I sent the data to Aria, and got a call a few moments later.

-----===-----

            “Ayson Spader, private investigator.”

            “Can it, Spades. You know who this is.”

            “Of course, Miss T’Loak, you’ll have to forgive the habit.”

            “I don’t have to do anything, Spades. But I will because you’re on my good side. This was a rather productive day for the both of us, wouldn’t you agree?”

            “Productive. Destructive. Informative? All the fun things, I guess.”

            “Oh, Spades, you really need to learn to enjoy yourself a little more. I understand that was a very by the book operation that just happened. Only lost three of my men? It’s like you actually listened to what I said.”

            “I didn’t command them. Thank Grizz, I just planned it all.”

            “But Spades, you just delivered me more eezo than I bring in in a month in one go. You’re the one I’m thanking.”

            “I can hear you licking your lips on the other end of the line and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

            “Ah ha ha! Oh, Ayson, I do so hope this isn’t the last time I get to have someone so fun working for me. You’ve quite handily changed my opinion of you. I can make it a more permanent position…”

            “A very kind offer, but I must decline. I value my independence and all that jazz.”

            “Well if there’s one attitude I can appreciate, it would be that one. Independent or not, though, don’t forget who you truly answer to at the end of the day.”

            “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, are we done? I have a paycheck to go collect.”

            “Naturally, Detective Spader. I’ll be seeing more of you, I’m sure.”

-----===-----

            It had been three days since the assault on the Blood Pack HQ. Damien Sana was ecstatic that the attacks had been stopped. He was less than ecstatic when he learned the fate of his stolen eezo, but knew better than to ask for it back. It was Aria’s now. In the end, it didn’t matter. Sana would be just fine now that his shipments weren’t being jacked.

            After getting the most handsome paycheck my eyes have ever rested on, I cashed it and split it with Kynger and Jeck. They were pretty damn happy about it as well.

            I was sitting in the living room of my one bedroom apartment, the lights dim. I preferred it like that. It was a cozy place, the main room attached to an open kitchenette. You wouldn’t believe the pantry space I had in there. That was to my left from my spot on the couch, and to my right was the bedroom and the only bathroom. It was cheap, and I was fine with that. That meant more cash for real food each week.

I was sipping at a snifter of whiskey and waiting for Joreena to arrive. She insisted on treating me to a nice dinner after saving her employer and, therefore, her rather cushy job, in spite of me owing her. Who was I to complain? Didn’t matter how much money I had now, free dinner was free dinner. I told her I’d make the reservations and everything was set from there.

            I had a little bit of bad news for her, and I hoped it didn’t go too poorly. And no, it wasn’t the fact that I’d gotten a call from Maggie the night before and gone out for drinks with her. Depending on how this night went, it might be the only time that cunning little blonde had me all to herself.

There was a knock at my door.

“It’s open”, I said with some volume.

It slid open a moment later and I found myself picking up jaw up off the floor.

Joree was wearing a short dress of blood red silk. You never see asari in skirts or dresses that short, but didn’t seem to stop her. It ended just above her knees, with full sleeves that left her shoulders open. It wasn’t cut terribly low in the neckline, and her back was exposed to the middle of her shoulder blades. She walked in high heels like they were as comfy as combat boots

Her fingers bore the same multitude of rings she’d worn in Nebula Silver, and dime sized rubies that matched her dress studded her earlobes.

“Ayson, judging by the look on your face, I’ve either done something horribly wrong or exceptionally right with my choice of outfit this evening”, she teased with a little smile. “I like your suit.”

Her attitude and appearance were more fit for a runway model or an actress. Every minute movement seemed calculated and measured, yet it all flowed together in an entrancing grace. It almost made me regret what I was about to do.

“Well thank you”, I said, my all black suit with a full collar was a hand-me-down from my father. I liked the style. “And exceptionally right would be an understatement. Sit down, take a load off. Some asari matriarch who’s in good with Aria is in town and our reservations were pushed back an hour, sadly.” I grimaced.

Joree took the bad news in stride, thankfully, merely shrugging, “doesn’t bother me in particular. Goddess forbid I get to have you to myself for an extra hour.”

We were aces then, “I’d offer you a drink, but I’m afraid cheap whiskey is about all I have available at the moment.”

“Think nothing of it”, Joree insisted. “I’m pretty picky anyway. Thessian wines and that’s about it.”

“Ah, fair enough”, I said. “So, I should thank you for your help. With my most recent job, I mean.”

“You did all the hard work”, Joreena replied, a hand to her chest in a show of modesty. “I simply did my best to point you in the right direction.”

I raised my glass and downed my drink, “well, whatever the case, thank you. I’ve been thinking a lot about this whole episode.”

“Well, thankfully it’s over”, Joreena added.

“True”, I set my glass down. “But there’s just one thing that’s been bugging me.”

“Oh?”

“Yea”, I said with an exhale. “So we know the Blood Pack was recruiting humans, turians, and batarians to both boost their own numbers and dress them up as Blue Suns during the attacks on Mr. Sana’s shipments. If they didn’t get caught, they’d build up a huge amount of credits and resources by selling the eezo, their numbers would swell, they’d be a threat to everyone.”

Joreena nodded, listening intently.

“If they did get caught, then the Blue Suns would get blamed and wiped out by Aria. The Blood Pack would move into their territory”, I continued, “and would grow rapidly since one of their major competitors for recruitment would be an epitaph. So basically, no matter what went down, the Blood Pack would become a power house on Omega to rival even Aria. But we uncovered that, stopped them, and hit them so hard it’ll take years for them to recover. The element zero was found, Sana will stay in business, everyone’s happy.”

“Exactly”, Joreena agreed, but seemed a bit confused as to what I was getting at.

I obliged her, “through all of this, we seem to have forgotten the core issue. I know I did for a bit there. Who exactly was feeding the locations to the Blood Pack? Who had access to the algorithm and could have made that happen?”

“Mr. Sana told me only four people had access. We can rule out his late wife, for obvious reasons. We can also forget about Damien Sana himself. He has nothing to gain from ripping off his own shipments, and he certainly wouldn’t have hired me to look into it if that was the case. Del Sana, while not exactly buddy buddy with daddy dearest, wasn’t responsible. He didn’t have the drive, the motive, or the brains; in fact all he wanted was to get away from the family business. He had a typical rebellious young adult attitude, but definitely wasn’t the thief.”

I took a breath, “which brings us to Jessup McCoy.”

“Who we know is innocent”, Joreena offered slowly.

I nodded, “exactly. Hell, I saw him fight tooth and nail to kill the Blood Pack guys attacking the last shipment. Beyond all that, he’s a military man of the old school. His word, his oath, is more binding than any contract you’ll ever see. That man would sooner shoot himself in the head than steal from Damien Sana.”

“Well that’s kind of it, then”, Joree said rather pointedly. “I mean…who else is there?”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering”, I admitted. “But then I realized a few things that fit into place.”

Joree raised an eyebrow as if to say such as?

“Jessup McCoy was recently married”, I said, voice getting more serious now. “He showed me his wedding ring and made a comment about his wife being particular with jewelry. It was a hunch. It was a really crazy, stupid hunch, but I couldn’t help but get to thinking on it. He got married a couple months ago. That’s the same time period Blue Suns started disappearing and shipments to Sana Shipping Inc. started getting ripped off. Two months, two months, two months. Everything started happening two months ago.”

“Strange coincidence”, Joreena said rather distractedly.

“Coincidence? Maybe”, I said. “Or maybe someone is manipulating McCoy without him knowing it, someone with the ability to mind meld has seduced him in order to get at the contents of his brain and, therefore, access the algorithm database. I put all of these things together and that brings us down two to more questions”, I looked Joreena dead in the eyes, “which biotic power did you plan on killing me with? And was it really a great idea to wear that?” I pointed to her left ring finger.

Black steel and Thessian Opal.

In a move quicker than I thought possible, Joreena was on her feet and glowing with the ambient blue of biotic power. She could put me through the glass door to my balcony behind me, the railing, too, and I’d be just another random body in the streets of Omega.

I picked up my lighter and a cigarette from the coffee table in front of me, lighting one up. If I was gonna die anyway…

As I blew out a puff of smoke, I looked at the half-panicked asari in front of me.

“So what was the end goal, Joree? What did you plan on doing with all of that eezo?”

“I had the Blood Pack obeying my every whim”, she said, hysterical, “they were mine to control. I was making them rich and powerful. It was only going to be a matter of time before we were strong enough to take down Aria. I was going to depose that arrogant drama queen and take my place as the rightful ruler of this goddess forsaken rock, shaping it into what it was meant to be!”

“Uh huh”, I said with distinct disinterest. “Aria wouldn’t like to hear that very much. Not very much at all, I would suspect.”

“Well she’s never going to find out. You’re the only one who could have figured it all out, Detective Spader”, Joree spat with both venom and grudging respect.

“Good to know I’m good at my job”, I said, calm as could be on the outside, pretty spooked on the inside.

“Shut up!” She snapped, lighting up with an even brighter sapphire hue, then took a few deep breaths. “This is nothing personal. In another time, there could have been something between us, Spades. But I’m sorry to say that’s not possible here and now. Goodbye, Ayson.”

She didn’t sound very regretful as she pushed a hand forward and sent a white-blue ball of energy straight into my chest. The kinetic barrier around me flared and dissipated, saving me from lethal damage and knocking both me and my couch back. Some smoke was coming from the couch right around my backside area, but I was still sitting, now looking at the ceiling.

Craning my neck forward, I saw Joree starting to charge up again when the pantry door flew open. Kynger Neksi emerged, hosing Joreena down with his submachine guns. Her biotic barrier blocked the volley, and she launched King against my fridge. He hit hard.

Her power depleted from Kynger’s attack and her retaliation, Joree screamed with fury. She tried to charge her powers one last time as Urdnot Jeck came charging out of my bedroom, headfirst, and crashed into our asari assailant. It’s not unlike being hit by a meteor, taking a charge from a krogan. He hit her high, sending her straight to the floor with enough force to smash her head and knock her out cold.

Jeck nonetheless flipped her onto her stomach, pinned her down, and zip tied her hands and feet together…twice. He liked the sound zip ties made when they got put on.

I, meanwhile, gingerly pulled myself up from my spot on/in the couch. The kinetic barrier generator emerged from the hole I’d cut for it to fit into the couch cushion in a cloud of acrid smoke, but it seemed to be done producing said smoke, at least. I unfastened it from around my waist and set it aside for repairs later. Just like it still hurts to get shot when you’re wearing a bullet proof vest, my entire body ached after that biotic strike.

“Well, she certainly had some fight in her”, King said from the kitchen as he slowly hauled himself to his feet.

Jeck chuckled, “heh, not enough, obviously. Little pyjak took one hit and now look at her.”

Jeck and King bantered back and forth a bit, but I remained silent, looking down at the restrained form of Joreena with a mix of relief and regret.

My educated guess had been dead on. The asari lying in front of me was the mastermind behind this caper. Now I could spend Sana’s reward without regret, and that felt good.

But one thing remained. I couldn’t kill her myself, or let Jeck or King do it. We weren’t executioners. But neither could I let her go free, obviously. In addition, we were outside of the jurisdiction of the Council, so shipping her off to prison was out of the question.

That meant the only option was to turn Joreena over to Aria. I didn’t want to think of what this dame would go through in Aria’s clutches. It wouldn’t be a quick or easy death. Even though Joreena was responsible for the deaths of so many, I couldn’t condemn her to that fate. But if Aria found out I’d done anything else with the culprit of all this chaos, and I’d be the one with my feet in the coals soon after.

What to do, what to do…

-----===----

            When I turned Joreena over to Aria, the crime boss couldn’t have been happier. She insisted I was a gift from the goddess herself, and made one more blatant offer with a very distracting movement of the hips that was very clearly her just working a kink out of her back. At least, that’s what I told myself.

            It earned me another with Aria, as she said. I simply asked they kill Joreena quickly and be done with it. Aria sighed and called me several varieties of stupid, but she allowed it, claiming she would still grace me with another small favor in the future.

            How honored I was as I walked away. From what I hear, they blew Joreena out of an airlock barely an hour later. Relatively quick, all things considered, but terrifying enough when the general population heard about it that it reminded everyone of the golden rule.

            Don’t f**k with Aria.

            In the aftermath, Sana Shipping recovered, returning to its place of prosperity and stability. Little Del got more than he bargained for with the mercenary gig during all this, and found his way back to Sana Shipping a few months later.

            After splitting the money with King and Jeck, I still had more than I knew what to do with. I could leave Omega if I wanted to and start fresh somewhere else. It would actually be peaceful, stable, easy…

            And god, it sounded boring.

            So I bought myself some good armor, expanded my arsenal of weapons and gadgets, and splurged on two crates of old Mattock ammo I found on the extranet after hours of searching. I also bought a new couch and refrigerator. After all of that, I still had enough to take Maggie out on what she insisted was the best date of her life, and plenty of credits to spare after that.

            Jeck had an idea that he ran past Kynger and I, and we both thought it sounded good. So, a month after the Sana Shipping job, “Spader, Jeck, & Neksi, Private Investigation and Security Solutions” was opened out of my office on 1443 Quasar Street. We knocked down a couple walls to make more room. The owner didn’t seem to mind.

            I wondered why I couldn’t bring myself to leave Omega. I wondered why I voluntarily kept myself in this great shithole of a space rock, surrounded by cutthroats and scumbags on a daily basis. It took me some wondering, but I figured it out.

            There’s an old saying around here. “From Alpha to Omega, but no further from there.”

            Think of the seediest, scummiest, most dilapidated and disgusting city you can think of. Now, take the worst part of that city, the worst ghetto or barrio. Once you have that in mind, take that area in that city and spread it out over the insides of a former mining colony inside of what can only be described as a part asteroid, part space station.

            Congrats, kid, you’re now thinking of something that’s sort of close to Omega.

            But there’s something else most folks don’t mention about this place. Even though the only real law is a megalomaniacal asari, there are plenty of ordinary, average people that call this dump home.  Damien Sana may be a rich man, but he’s got plenty of wage workers under him that rely on the fact that each and every day, Sana Shipping Inc. will be open and signing their paychecks.

            Somebody has to be here to look out for the people like them. Somebody has to have the guts, the gear, and the stupidity to put their a*s on the line to protect people when no one else will.

            That someone is Spader, Jeck, & Neksi, Private Investigation and Security Solutions. And trust us, kid, we ain’t going any further than Omega.

Author's Note

This is a rough draft I've gone over once or twice. See the Mass Effect wiki online for clarification on aliens races and other lore. My next rewrite is going to make it more accessible to non-Mass Effect fans.

Reviews

[Greg Cooprider]

I've read (And written, so I hear), some good Mass Effect stories. This one was pretty good. Very solid character designs, very believable for someone so die-hard Mass Effect as me.
Ever consider posting on fanfiction.net? They have a really good base of authors in Mass Effect.
Maybe consider renaming Ayson's company at the end. The acronym seems a little punny.
Other than that, great work.