4 – Servitude
Miranda watched as the hooded woman left Aria’s throne. They exhibited no physical tells as to how her meeting had gone nor did she look around in suspicion. The Turian guard escorted her to the door and Miranda calmly stood, leaving her nearly untouched drink on the table a followed the woman at a discreet distance. The Turian pointed at something down the plaza and send something to the woman’s omni-tool, which glowed a customized sapphire when she activated it.
With a nod to the guard, she turned and walked away, weaving through the crowds. Miranda followed the hooded woman, careful to not lose sight of her but not so close as to be discovered. The woman walked calmly through the streets, seeming to be intent on her destination. Miranda didn’t believe it for a second. No one could afford to relax on Omega, not even Aria.
It was when they were deep in the maze of hallways, passages, ducts and narrow corridors that the woman suddenly broke into a fast sprint, surprising Miranda and everyone else around her. Miranda threw subtlety to the wind and sprinted after her. The woman wove and dodged, then suddenly, she was gone.
“Dammit!” Miranda swore as she scanned her surroundings. She searched every nook and cranny over that stretch where she had vanished, hacking into the station’s cameras to find what rout the woman had taken but nothing. It was if she had never existed.
She ran her hand through her dark hair in frustration and wrote in her report. She had stumbled on someone with some ties to Cerberus. Those boots were standard Cerberus but, whether the person was a betrayer or had simply bought them off the black market, she couldn’t tell. Either way, the woman had given her the slip. She ground her teeth at that though before she turned back and headed to the upper levels where one of her safe houses was located. She had been ordered to search the station and, by God, she would.
Athena hardly dared to breath as Miranda stalked past her hiding place. She had crammed herself into a small nook and pulled the panel next to it over her, holding it in place. She watched as the Cerberus operative searched her immediate area before making frustrated gestures and leaving.
She followed her through the cameras until she saw Miranda enter into what was her safe house on Omega. Certain now her surroundings were clear, she pushed the panel away and stepped out. She straightened her veil and strode calmly on a roundabout route back to her nook. Aria had apparently given her a safe house to live from but Athena didn’t trust that woman enough to live under that roof.
She had already fallen into that Asari’s trap once, now she could at least hold what little autonomy she had left. Her hood had and veil at least had saved her from having her face entered into a facial recognition system and covering the face was not uncommon on this station.
In a fit of whimsy, she had modeled her face veil after Zeratul’s from StarCraft and her hood after Leliana’s from Dragon Age Inquisition. This made her look like even more of a nerd but since she was already in the nerdiest of situations she may as well play her part to the hilt.
She settled back in her little nest and brought out her omni-tool. Aria had given her a list of things to do for her new job, so she might as well do it. Afterwards she might take a chance and explore this station properly. After all, she needed to begin making contacts and feed money into what she had dubbed her ‘Reaper’ fund. She would need clothes, armor and weapons as well as the muscle memory to use them.
Having the downloads meant that she could be incredibly deadly but she had to devote runtimes to movements. Though she had not real subconscious to speak of, her body still processed memory the same way. Meaning, she should theoretically be able to develop muscle memory and the muscles to pull off whatever stunt she needed. Her omni-tool pinged and she opened the message function with a flick.
It was from Aria. Apparently the crime queen wanted her to forge a firearms license for one of her agents on the Citadel. She sighed and leaned back before she began what was a new step in her life.
Two months since arrival
Athena gasped as she applied pressure to the bullet wound in her side. She had thought that Aria would have her doing desk work. Apparently not. The Crime Queen had decided that a hands-on approach was the best course of action. This meant that she was sneaking in and out of places that were not friendly to anyone on good terms with Aria. Now here she was, folded up in a small cranny in the depths of Omega, curled around an OSD in an inner pocket while she tried to keep herself from bleeding out.
She swore violently as she applied medi-gel. Honestly, what was the point of having the entirety of medical knowledge either crammed into her brain or at her metaphorical fingertips when it did little to help her in stopping the blood flow? The miracle of modern science expanded around the bullet hole, slowly sealing and anesthetizing the area. Out of immediate danger, she leaned her head back against the bulkhead and let out a long breath.
This entire mess had happened because she had grown cocky. Being able to hack into anything and everything had caused her to completely disregard what she saw around her. After all, what could her organic eyes discern that was not already glaringly obvious to the security systems or the station schematics? She had forgotten that the world did not fall into neat little boxes that could be labelled and place on a shelf.
It had seemed like such a simple snatch and run. Walk in, take the OSD card, walk out. The locks were barely even child’s play to her and the security had almost caused her to laugh. It was so loose. What she hadn’t noticed with her electronic eyes was the removed panel in a corner of the room that concealed a gunman.
The entire thing was a trap, set to get either a high-ranking lackey to Aria or any form of useful tool. Unfortunately for her, she had simply glossed over that fact. Now here she was, hiding once again in the bowls of Omega. Only this time she had a bullet wound in her right side.
Nothing vital had been hit and the round had gone clean through but the scar would remain and it bloody well hurt. She closed her eyes for a moment and simply let the darkness of her hiding place and the subtle thrum of the life support sooth her. Her growing hair itched a little from lack of washing and the veil felt uncomfortably warm in this confined place but she didn’t dare take them off.
Miranda had left the station for now but Athena was absolutely sure that Cerberus still had their eyes on Omega, ready to pounce should she make an appearance. She gently thudded her head against the bulkhead to refocus her wandering subroutines.
First things first, get the data to Aria. Next, she needed gear. Best case scenario would be her kitting herself out with custom gear made to her own nerdy standards. Sci fi presented her with such a fabulous array of technology and looks to choose from. It would be wasteful if she didn’t reap the bounty of such imagination after all.
She sighed deeply again and pushed herself off the wall and heaved herself upright. With a heavy heart, she began to reroute her threads in charge of credit skimming to the more important section of gear conception. She left only a handful of programs in place to continue but, without an active thread to direct them, she couldn’t scoop nearly as much.
Now more or less standing under her own power she slipped out of her hiding place and began to make her way to Afterlife.
Three months since Arrival
Athena stared down at the body that lay in front of her with a numb detachment. She had never killed anyone up close before and now she stood in the center of what had been a low-level meeting of a rival gang and Aria had wanted them silenced. What Aria demanded, Athena had to give.
It astounded her how easy it had been. All she had to do was cut the lights, pull her knife and get to work. Barriers did little against blades and her newly crafted blade based off the Hunter design from Destiny had done its job perfectly.
On another note, Cerberus had outdone themselves on her training downloads. There hadn’t been a single moment of hesitation as she moved through the deep black and murdered every one of them. This terrified her. How could she have killed seven people so flawlessly? Did she truly have any control over her downloads?
When she had killed the scientists, she hadn’t really thought about the fact that she just wanted the pain to stop. Now though she was covered in the blood of her victims.
She began to tremble. Her hands shook and the knife fell from her now unresponsive fingers. She took a shaky step to the right and began to dry heave, what little there was in her stomach making a violent comeback. Her body was rebelling at the realization at what she had done. Tears poured down her face as she finally grasped what she had become. She was a murderer and a slave.
She was locked under Aria’s thumb with no real way of getting out. The moment she ran she knew that Aria would have no qualms in setting Cerberus after her. Not to mention that she couldn’t see Aria reacting well to her ‘Generosity’ being thrown back at her.
Athena stumbled back to her knife, driving her body forward to pick up the blade. There could be no evidence linking her to this massacre. With the blood slicked handle now gripped tightly in her shaking hand, she forced the door open and slipped away into the shadows.
That was the first night she made use of the apartment Aria had given her. She stood under the jets in the shower, frantically scrubbing her skin as she tried to clean off the blood. Her clothes were in the washer. Her knife had been cleaned and set aside for now.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat as she scrubbed. “Out, out damn spot, out I say,” She sobbed as she continued to clean her already clean skin. It was turning red from the abuse but she couldn’t stop. The smell lingered in her nose, coating the inside with the metallic scent of blood.
She continued to spot tiny flecks of it under her nails, on the back of her forearm. It was now that Lady Macbeth’s monologue made sense to her.
When she had read it, she had though she knew what it meant. Now she truly understood. The dirty feeling that haunted her soul, that made her obsessively scrub and scratch at her already raw skin. Three threads began to point out her irrational behavior. A self-preservation subroutine reared its head and knocked on her inner self hard, throwing her concentration from her attempt to flay herself alive. She sank down to the floor, clutching her knees under the scalding spray of water, and wept.
The next two weeks were not ones she was proud of. Not that she was proud of her first three months anyway but truly she was in need of some kind of release. The fear and tension of her imprisonment and subsequent escape, mixed with her first frantic months on Omega, had given her no way to escape. Now she had turned to the tried and true method of forgetting, only to be cheated out of alcoholic oblivion.
That’s not to say she didn’t try but, one thing she could say in favor of Cerberus, they built their products well. Even if she was defective in their eyes, she was still very well built. This included her super liver and advanced metabolism. Not even Krogan Ryncol could touch her.
She slumped forward and rested her forehead on the table, a shadow of a sob itching at the back of her throat. Several threads noted that an Asari was approaching her table and she tensed a little before relaxing again, completely apathetic to the alien.
She heard the soft swish of a dress as the Asari sat down. “Hey, you alright?” A kind voice asked her.
“Why do you care?” She asked, her voice empty of all emotion.
“Because this is the second week that you’ve been here every day, drank an inordinate amount of alcohol
that would kill a normal human and left without so much as a stagger. I know what someone attempting to drink until their brains pour out their noses and you are a prime example of just that,” The Asari noted.
“I should be so lucky,” Athena mumbled into the table, harshly shoving a handful of wayward threads back into their original projects as they tried to give her a list of suicide options.
“Here,” The Asari said suddenly, standing and walking around to Athena’s chair. Before she could do more than blink, the woman had hauled her to her feet and was now escorting her from the club.
“Where are you taking me?” Athena asked listlessly, not truly caring. She may not be drunk, but she could just cease to care.
“My apartment,” Was the only answer she got. Acknowledging the answer but not really caring anymore Athena retreated into her mind, ignoring the outside feeds. At the moment, she wouldn’t have even stirred herself if the Asari held a knife to her throat.
“We’re here,” The Asari told her, pushing Athena onto a small couch. She felt her back hit the cushions but payed it no mind. She had been numb for the last two weeks and it didn’t look like she would be waking anytime soon.
“Ok, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but you obviously have some problems that you need to get through. So talk,” The Asari told her irritably. Athena blinked and looked up at the Asari standing over her.
“Why are you trying to help me?” Athena asked curiously and the Asari let out a loud sigh. “Because someone helped me when I was in a similar place. I don’t know what happened to you but I know the look of someone who is haunted. So I’m trying to pass on a favor. I thought you humans were such big fans of ‘Paying it forward,'” Athena blinked at the Asari before cocking her head, examining the Asari in front of her.
She was tall, dark blue skin with lighter teal face paint. Her eyes were a bright purple and there was an air about her of someone who had lived hard despite her relatively young looking face. A thread set itself to running a search on the Asari’s face and she sighed, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands. “I’m trapped here and Aria has decided that I make a good slave,” She mumbled sadly, the truth of her situation still laying heavily on her shoulders.
“Why is that?” The Asari whom her search named Desta T’res asked softly. Athena inhaled deeply before she let it out gustily, may as well tell the truth. “I’m being hunted, Aria can keep me safe but…” Her voice cracked.
“But her definitions of safe tend to make you do things you would never want to?” Desta asked finished and Athena nodded.
“I thought it would be simple. Act as a contracted agent. She pays me money, I deliver information. Two plus two equals four,” She shook her head bitterly. “Except the people looking for me got there first and put the wind up. She knew they were looking for someone and then I fell into her lap. They offered an impressive amount of credits to get me so she has me with the Sword of Damocles over my head. The moment she decides I’ve outlive my usefulness, I’m gone. Shipped back off to whatever lab they decide would best benefit from me.”
She paused to take a breath and realized she had just babbled out to a complete stranger. “How old are you?” Desta asked gently sitting herself down carefully next to her. Athena paused at the question. Technically she was two years and three months but she had been in her mid-twenties when she had… died?
She didn’t even know what had happened to her. The memories of that walk home had never cleared up. For all she knew this could all be a hallucination and she was lying in a coma in some hospital right now.
No, if this was a dream she wouldn’t have reacted to those mercs’ deaths as she had. She was learning things she never knew existed or could even imagine. “Twenty-two,” She finally answered weakly, still not looking up at Desta. A hand gently lay itself on her shoulder and she flinched, unused to the feeling of physical contact that didn’t hurt.
“It’s ok. You’re safe here,” Desta soothed, her hand rubbing gently along Athena’s shoulder. Athena felt a sob build in her throat, her threads were useless. They simply continued away at their projects, though she was surpassing their input with a ruthless will. A feeling of desolation welled up in her chest and she let out a strangled sob, unable to hold it in any longer.
“Shh, it’s alright, cry,” Desta told her, her hand still rubbing along Athena’s shoulder. So she did just that. She curled forward and cried. Great shuddering gasps as tears poured down from her eyes and were absorbed by her veil.
Arms wrapped around her as she cried, hugging her softly and soft sounds of comfort made her cry harder. All the pent-up emotions inside her poured out as she grieved for herself, for her innocence, fear of what had happened and what would come. Eventually she succumbed to the blissfully numbing blackness of exhaustion.
She awoke an hour later to the smell of food. She cracked open an eye and stared around her at the unfamiliar surroundings. With a rush, her threads informed her of what had happened and what they had monitored since she had fallen asleep.
She winced and looked around the apartment, looking for Desta. “You’re awake, that good. Here,” The Asari was standing in front of her, offering a mug of what looked like tea. She sat up and took it cautiously. She watched the Asari as she walked back to her kitchenette and returned holding a plate of small dumplings.
“It’s Thessian white tea. I promise,” Desta told her calmly as she set down the plate on the coffee table and took a seat across from Athena, nursing her own mug of tea.
Athena considered the Asari before her before she made a choice. She quickly triple-checked the apartment for bugs before she gingerly reached up and tugged her hood off. Her hair had grown a bit in the three months since her escape. It turns out she was correct. The hair was ink black and currently sat in short spikes from where the hood had ruffled it.
Then, with a resolve that moved her even in the face of her anxiety, she tugged at her veil, letting it fall around her neck. She waited as Desta looked her over. She felt naked without her veil. She almost never took it off, except to bathe. She even slept with it on. “You have beautiful eyes,” Desta told her simply before turning her attention to the food.
She relaxed a little and hesitantly sipped her tea. It was good. Similar but different to earth tea and almost minty in flavor. “I’m Desta T’res,” Desta offered and Athena recognized it for what it was. An offering, a name for a name.
“Athena,” She answered softly, looking down to watch the steam curl off her tea. “A nice name, does it mean anything?” Desta asked curiously and Athena shrugged. “She is the Ancient Greek goddess of Wisdom, War and Crafts. My parents liked their mythology,” She answered, feeling a little bolder and looking up to meet Desta’s eyes.
“Does Desta mean anything?” She asked and Desta laughed. “Don’t know. Probably meant something in ancient times but, whatever it meant, it’s just a name now,” She answered with a smile.
Athena found herself answering the gesture and cautiously reached out to take a dumpling. It was the first piece of hot food she’d had in three weeks. She didn’t cook often, usually getting nutrient packs or buying from the more reputable eating establishments.
It felt nice. “So, you’re working for Aria until you can get together enough money to escape and find somewhere safe?” Desta asked her and Athena felt herself freeze a little before she shook it off and answered.
“I have the money but not the connections or the gear. I know I will never be safe from them as long as their organization exists so my only hope is to become dangerous enough that they wouldn’t dare think of coming after me,” She answered. She didn’t know why she was trusting Desta but it felt good to talk to someone other than Aria, or her contacts, for once.
She hadn’t realized just how lonely she was. Her head was so full that she hadn’t even though about how her normally gregarious nature would be affected. “I see, so what happened to drive you to Afterlife?” Desta asked after a moment of silence.
“Aria decided that apparently a hacker is also a good assassin. She seemed to think the exercise would do me good,” Athena spat bitterly. Desta looked at her with eyes filled with understanding.
“How many?” She questioned and Athena bowed her head. “Seven,” She answered shamefully.
“Did you have a choice?” Desta asked her and Athena’s head shot up. “Of course I had a choice!” She raged before the fight drained out of her. “There’s always a choice,” She added more quietly.
“Not always,” Desta told her firmly, meeting Athena’s gaze squarely. “I could have chosen to not do it or run or warned them. Instead I walked in there and killed them in the dark,” Athena protested, but Desta shook her head.
“This is Omega. Aria would have known and, truthfully, you won’t survive if you shy from killing,” She told Athena firmly. Athena’s shoulders slumped again. She knew that logically but to do it was another thing entirely.
“How do you cope with it?” She asked in defeat and Desta shrugged. “We each have our own ways. You have to remember, Aria may own you now but, if you do it right, then you can be free.” Athena looked down at her tea again and nodded. “I’d like to be free,” She murmured in agreement
Four months after arrival
Miranda snarled in fury and punched the wall next to her in frustration. Another dead end. What’s more, Aria now refused to see her, demanding that Miranda communicate through an intermediary, a hacker named Neith.
She had never met Neith in person or even heard their voice but they were at the very least efficient.
Neith had also agreed to field searches for Metis on their own time for a modest fee. Miranda gladly paid the price for the information even if it had resulted in her chasing the damned subject across most of the Terminus system. She had to give Metis credit, she could move and she was good.
Only the barest hint of a presence on board ships. A fleeting picture in a nanosecond of recording. Currently she was on Illium hunting though the various information brokers for another hint of a clue, one that had resulted in a firefight with Eclipse. Two dead agents on her side and no new information regarding Metis. Her omni-tool pinged and she lifted it to answer the video call.
“Ms. Lawson,” The distorted voice greeted her. “Neith,” She answered. The shadowy figure nodded to her.
“As of this moment your target has gone underground. I will keep you informed if I hear anything more but she has been learning. It’s been harder and harder to track her each time. I am sorry Ms. Lawson but I believe that, unless your target wants to be found, I can do very little for you.” Miranda restrained the urge to curse and nodded in understanding.
“I see. Thank you for your assistance. Perhaps I will call on you again,” She thanked them with a sigh. “A pleasure doing business with you Ms. Lawson. Have a pleasant day,” The call ended and she swore, violently, as she sank down on the couch. Back to the drawing board.
Athena sighed behind her veil as she ended the call. It had been a stroke of luck when Aria had decided it would be funny for Athena to help her captors search for her but, God alive, was it nerve wracking. The Queen certainly liked her irony, evil woman. She stood from the pile of crates that occupied the small storeroom she had commandeered for that call and straightened her hood. With her new income, she was able to begin purchasing clothes and gear.
As witnessed by the black, civilian grade chest plate she was now sporting over a pale grey long sleeved shirt. Over this was a new jacket made of dark grey leather. Her entire outfit was now in various shades grey, black and silver. Her leggings were dark charcoal with a pair of pistols strapped to her thighs and her knife, which she was contemplating making a duplicate of for tight melee combat.
She had dumped the Cerberus boots, despite their wonderful arch support and all-weather rating after reading Miranda’s report of noticing her boots. Now she wore sturdy black boots that buckled up the front with dull silver buckles. Black gloves covered her hands and her omni-tool was returned to its boring orange (oh how she loathed that color).
All in all, she looked absolutely forgettable. Also, she was dressed in a color that worked beautifully in the dimly lit corridors of Omega. The varying gradients of grey and black made her uninteresting because a solid color usually denoted some form of affiliation. People noticed someone dressed all in black, but this outfit allowed her to fade into the shadows of her new home. It had been a month since Desta T’res had pulled her out of Afterlife, now she only went there to deliver goods to her boss.
The Asari had given her a much needed confidant and they now kept in touch. Occasionally they would meet for tea and talk about normal things or griped about how badly their day had gone. Desta was a freelance merc with a conscious. She tended to target those whom she felt deserved it.
It gave Athena some much needed normalcy in her life. Away from the guns, drugs, money and the thousand other vices she now had to deal with on a daily basis. She shook her head to dislodge the wayward tangents and slipped from the room, erasing her electronic presence with barely a thought. She had spent hours setting up runtimes and viruses that followed her everywhere, erasing her digital presence in her wake so she could dedicate her easily sidetracked mind into more productive thought processes.
Currently she had them taking a catalogue of all sci-fi technology she had seen or read of in her previous world and trying to make them feasible. It was a nice distraction that allowed her mind to leap from project to project while others were happily hacking their way into secret projects. It was like having a classroom full of kindergarteners on sugar highs. It meant that she spent a lot of time running down her various threads but she had gotten better at allocating tasks and keeping them on track.
Though she did tend to get the most spectacular migraines if she put too many on any single task. Having multiple projects going at once meant that she could shuffle bored runtimes to new topics, which seemed to make them happy. This lead to her new motto, ‘Happy threads, Happy head.’ Cheesy, but true.
She had also discovered a true love for ferreting out heavily guarded secrets. Nothing made her happier than knowing that STG was essentially feeding her information. The irony sometimes made her giggle (something she had begun doing with alarming frequency, coupled with talking to herself out loud). She even had others stalking the Shadow Broker, trying to map out his impressively extensive network. Even her contact with Miranda Lawson had been useful for her.
Through the Cerberus agent’s contact with her employer, she was able to find the entryways to the Cerberus network. She couldn’t do anything about the three major spy groups but, with their entrances into the extra net mapped, she would then be able to put filters on their network, erasing or re-directing what information she wanted. The soft tinging of an incoming call rang inside her skull and she sighed. It was Aria.
She tucked herself into an unoccupied corner and activated the call. She used computer generated voices to communicate, removing the need to actually speak and thus preventing her calls from being overheard. To the outside world she looked like she was staring into space. “Neith,” Came the brisk voice of her boss.
“Yes?” She answered, her voice sounding like a Turian male’s. “You have another job. I need it done by tomorrow.” Athena nodded even though she knew Aria couldn’t see her. “Understood,” She answered and waited until the queen signed off.
A message informed her of its arrival. She scowled at the laundry list of forging, embezzlement and sabotage that she was required to do. That was topped off by the urgent job of physically breaking into a rival gang’s hideout to retrieve an OSD with weapons data on it. She sighed and leaned back against the wall and rubbed her eyes. She was not nearly well equipped to do that mission and she was on a time limit.
Three threads postulated just how the infiltration could go. She pushed them to the side, sending them back to work on her three favorite projects that she wanted done before she met up with Shepard: A Starcraft ghost visor, a set of multi-purpose gauntlets and a gun similar in use to a scout rifle.
The visor was in truth more accurately described as a half mask that was able to provide her with tactical data. It acted as an information gathering tool, thus eliminating the need for the Omni-tool prop and providing her ears with much needed protection from firearms and explosions, something that was uncomfortably loud in small spaces. The gauntlet was more in line with having a wrist mounted swiss army knife that wasn’t connected to her. The idea of having a grappling line and small portable dart shot was appealing.
If she could cram a flame thrower into the design and keep it small then that would be a bonus. The rifle would, if she could get it to work, act as either a sniper rifle of a semi-automatic assault rifle, making her more versatile as a fighter and allowing her to hopefully get off this rock. Hopefully into something more in line with a bounty hunter, bodyguard, or, at the least, out from under Aria’s thumb.
Four months of working under that woman and she had nearly had Aria had her over a barrel. That didn’t mean that she could trot Athena out like an exotic pet at a party. It was humiliating and frustrating. Athena had no illusions about killing the Asari, that would solve nothing and, though she loathed to admit it, Aria did keep this station from falling apart.
The good thing about her projects was that most of the technology she needed for her projects existed. The materials to make them were expensive and she wanted to do it quietly. There was no way in hell she would let the designs be found by others if she could make them. If she could get her hands on Kasumi’s cloaking technology that would also be a true bonus. She didn’t like confronting her foes face to face. She hadn’t when she was a gamer and she most certainly didn’t now that the bullets could actually hurt her.
She shook her head to clear it and continued on her mission. She turned her attention to the location of the hideout and began to hike through the shabby corridors. God, she hated her job but it put money into her accounts that paid the bills and put food in her mouth. It ensured that her personal escape fund could remain untouched or be allocated to her gear fund. Her focus returned as she came closer to her target. She scanned the hallway carefully, using every sense availability to her.
She had learnt her lesson the last time with the blind. Maybe she could get a heat or motion tracker on her visor when she built it. She refocused faster than it took to blink and hacked the internal cameras. Two beings. A Turian and a Batarian, both in armor. She marked their positions and prepped herself in front of the door before cutting the lights and diving through a tiny crack in the door. Luckily the cameras had night vision.
“What happened?” The Batarian demanded, drawing her to him first. Her knife slid from its sheath. She wrapped her hand over his mouth and drove the blade into his jugular. She yanked it out with a violent twist and softly lowered him to the floor.
The Turian was looking around wildly, fumbling with his wrist, trying to activate his omni-tool for light. Not that it would work, she had already disabled both and created a loop for the security feeds. It looked like nothing was happening.
“Tarth? Where are you?” The Turian demanded but she was already behind him. It was truly frightening the amount of information she had been given on how to properly torture, maim and kill her opponents. It was like that little saying of never pissing off a doctor because they knew exactly what hurt the most.
She leapt up behind the Turian and stabbed the long blade into the back of his skull. It bit deep into the crack between his plates and she twisted the blade hard, severing the spine and forcing the two plates apart. She removed the knife and gently let his body fall.
She bowed her head in the dark, folding her hands in front of her. “Requiescat in peace,” She murmured over their bodies before she hurried over to the door that lead deeper into the base. She proceeded to slip through the compound, often taking to the ducts to avoid killing where she could, and making it painless when she couldn’t.
The OSD was plugged into a terminal at the back. She swiftly hacked the whole thing, downloading everything on the drive and setting a thread to sift through the data. The card was also copied before she removed it. She stuck it into a pocket on her belt and retreated the way she had come. She may hate her job, but the training she was receiving was top notch. Oh the irony.
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