#kandros

Funnily enough, the trip had been quiet. Vetra had stayed quiet during intake, letting the exchange go over with barely a word spoke. She wasn't even sure if the Collectors could speak in a language she'd understand. Well, there was one at least: credits. After the funds had cleared it was relatively smooth sailing. It wasn't until they'd drifted into Omega's debris fields caused by its massive mass-effect field generators that they ran into their first obstacle. A slew of Cerberus cruisers were tucked into the asteroid's belt with some very big guns pointed their way. In fact, they were only other ship signatures on their scanners; the normal ebb and flow of frigates, cruisers, and decommissioned warships was absent. Vetra gulped down the lump forming in her throat as they received their clearance to pass on through to the menacing glowing red station beyond. She'd been there before on several occasions, had previous jobs take her in and out of those filthy streets and alleyways. But this felt different. If wrong could be worse, that would be the sinking feeling in her gut as they docked into the the prearranged bay.

Their contact was meeting them there. Anxiety flooded her veins as she led the escort down the offloading ramp but she tried not to let it show. She needed to be calm, cool, collected. This had to go right.

A formidable troop of mechs and pale armor were waiting beyond the airlock. One of the men held up a projection drone that free floated towards them, a figure of a human male zigzagging into view. He wore officer's bars and was military from his coif to his boots, but the colors he bore were Cerberus.

"How many crates are there?" The drone had audio too.

"Thirty-seven," Vetra supplied. "But they're heavy. Where do you want them?"

"My men know the coordinates. But I must emphasis that time is of the essence." The holo's eyes narrowed as it surveyed the steady stream of shipping containers being hauled down onto the transport vehicle's flat bed. "I am not the only one who has been alerted of your arrival."

The turian's grip on her assault rifle tightened. I knew it. "Who are we expecting?"

"Omega is home to several gangs and crime syndicates. One of them has decided to grow a conscience in response to the Cerberus occupation and is proving to be a thorn in my side." Stepping back to glare at her, a grimace passed over the man's stoic expression. "They call themselves the Talons. You must be ready for anything during the escort."

"It'd be nice to know where we're going in case your men fail to hold up," she shot back at him.

He paused, considering. "Have you ever been to Afterlife, Ms. Nyx?"

"Are you some kind of friend of Aria's?"

His dark facial hair shifted into a smirk. "You could say that. I want these delivered to the VIP section - I have a team of engineers waiting for you. Don't take too long, Vetra."

Containing the shudder that threated to pass through her at the sound of her name in his mouth, she turned back to her crew as he faded from view. "Move out, people!"

Within minutes they were making steady progress winding through the back alleys that Omega was infamous for. The usually bustling streets were eerily quiet, devoid of their normal unsavory occupants. Vetra silently wondered at the state of things. Were the Cerberus forces to blame for the deadened streets? Omega wasn't a place that relinquished easily; people here had long memories, all of which reached back to a time when Omega was a haven for the seediest criminals and terrorists the galaxy had to offer. In a thousand years, Omega had never been this quiet. Vetra doubted Cerberus was the only factor in play here. Maybe that group the human had mentioned had something to do with it.

Vetra was jolted from her reverie by a sound that she couldn't have dreamts up in her deepest, darkest nightmare. Skidding to a stop at the far end of the alley were two large, lumbering creatures that were unlike anything she'd ever seen. They had tubes protruding from their faces down and across their blackened bodies, large bulbous sacks that ran the length of their spines, and eye sockets that glowed this heinous shade of blue. She'd never seen anything like them, but one thing was certain: she had to put as much distance between her and those things as possible, and fast.

"Reverse the truck!" she ordered, but quickly found out how futile that idea was; the streets were too narrow to properly maneuver out of harm's way. The vehicle nearly crashed into the side of the building they'd just rounded. Shit. They'd have to go through the bastards. Shouldering her gun, she braced as the pair charged their group.

Bullets began to rain down around them and the beings were stopped in their tracks, taking cover in an abandoned storefront. Spinning to search for the source, she saw a hooded figure peering down from one of the rooftops. Upon closer inspection, there were more like them along the edges of the other buildings, all in the same red armor bearing the same sigil. Agile and lithe, the hooded figure landed in front of the transport vehicle, revealing another female turian with clan markings that matched her armor.

"Hurry, they won't be gone long. We need to move," she ordered.

"Talons!" Their Cerberus entourage appeared behind Vetra and before she knew what was happening, the butt of a gun struck the back of her skull knocking her to her knees. Glazing behind her, pain hazing her vision, she saw they'd drawn their weapons at both of the turian women. Goddamn it.

In a split-second decision, Vetra tossed a flashbang grenade that sent them reeling. She charged at the turian across from her, gripping her arm and pulling her to a doorway across from where the monsters fled. Letting her go once they were deep inside, they charged up a flight of stairs that led back to the roof. Halfway up they heard the creatures shriek and the sounds of more gunfire, screaming, and carnage. Sneaking to the lip of the roof, they stole looks down at the road below that told them the other forces had lost the fight. All shades of blood smattered the sides of the alley, body parts haphazardly strewn in all directions. Staying silent until the hellish creations had trudged out of view, she finally released the breath she'd been holding in a low hiss. The woman she'd saved eyed her curiously.

"Boss! Are you okay?" One of the others rushed over to them and crouched, gun still drawn and at the ready. Like she should've been a moment ago.

"I'm fine. Thanks to her." She met Vetra's eyes, green eyes critical. "Who are you?"

"Vetra. Vetra Nyx. I'm supposed to be bringing that cargo to whoever's running the show here." Better to leave out the part that he was acquainted with Aria. For the time being.

"That's debatable," the Talon shot back. "But since you were with Cerberus, I assume you mean General Petrovsky. He's the one who headed the regime change and ousted Aria off of the station."

"Wait, what?" That fucker lied to her. "So where is she?"

Cloaked shoulders heaved a shrug. "Who knows. Not here, that's all I know. Why?"

"Nothing. That General has some explaining to do though."

"Good luck." Shaking her head, the other woman stood and began walking back towards the way they'd come. "He's holed up at Afterlife, calling the shots and making civilian's lives hell."

Vetra made to follow, determined to get some answers. "And those things? Is he the one who's responsible for them, too?"

"Yes. They're called adjutants. Cerberus takes credit for them but they're something else as well. Advanced and extremely lethal." She held out a hand to halt Vetra, checking to see if the coast was clear before carefully re-entering the alley. "They originated from beyond the Omega 4 relay."

This time Vetra pulled up short on her own volition. Her companion took notice. "What is it?"

She almost whispered the words, her voice as soft as if she were in a confession booth. "Whatever's in those crates came from the other side of the Omega 4 relay."

"Damn it," came the reply. Turning towards the pack of red armor that had made their way over to where they stood, Vetra noticed how easily the woman fell into her leadership role as she doled out orders. She found herself mildly irritated at the realization that she was military too, or had been, something she'd never had much use for. Soldiers were unyielding, strict to their moral codes and the orders given to them by their superiors. Less easily coerced and therefore harder for her to do business with. She wondered whether she'd just lessened her likelihood of getting off of this station or increased it. "We can't afford to let Cerberus get their hands on the contents of that truck. Understood?"

"Yes, boss!" Guns held high in salute, they began to take their stations and maneuver their way out of the open.

The leader stopped at the truck, holding open the door for her. "You coming?" she called.

Vetra paused for a heartbeat before striding over to the vehicle, her long legs vaulting her up into the passenger's seat. She watched closely, mind working a thousand miles a minute, as the host of this little party marched to the driver's side. "You know, you never did tell me your name," she observed.

A shrug was her reply as the woman started up the engine. "I'm a ghost here on Omega. You can call me Nyreen."

[...]

They eventually made their way to makeshift shelter, little to no opposition along the way. It was different than her first trek through the station; there were people peering through windows and doorways, looking upon the convoy as it passed. Before it was as if the place was a ghost town; now it felt like people made way for them, clearing the path.

Jumping to the ground, Vetra and Nyreen made their way towards the heavy door barring their entrance. "Listen," Vetra began. "Not that I don't appreciate the help, but there's something you should know: if I've screwed myself out of payment, that's one thing. But I'm going to need a way off of this station. I have family I have to get back to." She'd decided along the way that she'd accept the payout was long gone. Besides, no mountain of credits was worth not being able to get back to Sid.

"I don't think you're fully aware of the situation," Nyreen countered. "The line of Cerberus ships surrounding the station aren't just meant to keep people out. They're meant to keep us in. And you're diluted if you think we don't all have someone we'd rather be than trapped on this hunk of rock. Sorry to break the news to you kid, but you're stuck here."

"I'm not asking for your permission," the taller of the two of them shot back. "I'm telling you that I need a ship. I can pay whatever you're asking and figure out the rest myself."

Nyreen shook her head in disbelief and moved to enter the now-lifted gateway. "That's simply not an option. Any ships that are still here have been locked down and are fully under Cerberus control."

"Then the way home is through Cerberus?" She wouldn't be deterred.

A scoff came from ahead of her. "You really think Cerberus would let you leave here alive even if you did deliver? You're crazy. Or worse, maybe you're just stupid."

"Hey!" Vetra gripped a handful of Nyreen's cloak and spun her to meet her haughy gaze, aware that the action drew the muzzle of every gun in sight directly at her. In truth, she didn't much care. "I helped you! And now you're insulting me?"

"I'd say we both helped each other," Nyreen replied evenly. "I could have left you to the adjutants, but my men and I stepped in. We risked our necks to save you. Maybe you should show a little gratitude."

She was right. Vetra slowly unclenched her fist, letting Nyreen take a step back and signal the others to drop their weapons. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "You're right. Thank you for saving me. But I do have to find a way home. I have a little sister that depends on me." Her eyes fell. "I'm all she has."

The pair were quiet for a moment while the others sealed the blast doors shut behind them, the sound thundering in her ears. "What were you doing with Cerberus running Collector goods if you're supposed to be looking out for your sister?"

Vetra shrugged her wide shoulders. "The money was too good to pass up. It was an easy job, or so I thought. Get in, get the goods delivered, and get out. I didn't even have to go through the Omega 4 relay - one of their ships met us in this system. I - I heard about a project to colonize new words. To get a seat onboard costs a pretty penny, let alone two. This was supposed to be our ticket to ride."

The Talon leader turned to one of the nearby consoles, punching in a series of command codes. "Listen, I wish you luck kid, but you're going to have to be savvy if you want to catch a ride off of this heap of rubble. We haven't had any luck, and we've got personnel, experience, and a solid footing on you."

"What about the ship I landed here on?" she wondered aloud.

"Definitely under Cerberus control by now."

Vetra forced a nervous sigh. "I need to take my chances."

"Look, I'm not stopping you," Nyreen said dismissively as she turned to head deeper into the bowels of the stronghold. "But know that I can't help you if that really is your plan of attack."

"How can you help me?" Vetra called after her.

Nyreen spun, considering the woman before her. She thought a moment, the gears working silently behind her eyes. "Maybe we can help each other," she finally acquiesed.

[...]

"Moving into position," Vetra spoke into her visior's mouthpiece. She'd synced up with the Talon's private channel so they could keep in communication while their plan played out. She hated to admit it, but it wasn't a very good plan. But it was all she had.

"Good. Once you're inside, we won't be able to provide aid. Be precise, get in, and get out."

Vetra's smirk was grim. "How could things go wrong twice in the same day?"

"Nyreen out," was her only response.

Easing off of the gas, she came to a stop outside of one of the known hubs of Cerberus forces. Nyreen had supplied the location, intent on a gameplan that forced Petrovsky's hand into a deal of sorts. She didn't like it, but that meant she needed a line of communication with Petrovsky himself. Other than a completely suicidal approach that meant trying to knock on Afterlife's front door, they'd agreed one of the nearby bunkers would suffice. The troops could link up to the general himself, and Vetra could offer her cargo as leverage for safe passage off of this dump.

A small squadron of men met her outside the barricaded perimeter, guns at the ready. They signaled to her to climb out and she complied but rooted herself next to the vehicle. She knew if she walked away from it, her leverage was as good as gone.

"I came to speak to your boss," she called.

The men glanced at each other, hesitant. "He's not here."

"No shit. Patch me in. I have something he's looking for," she replied impatiently, sticking her thumb behind her.

One held up two fingers to the earpiece inside of his helmet. "What do you want to do?"

A moment passed as he received his response. Her patience was rewarded when another trooper reached behind him and grabbed another drone, tossing it her way. The general blinked to life again, squaring up to her.

"Ah, Ms. Nyx. There you are. I'd assumed the worst when you didn't report in."

"Our convoy was overrun along the path to Afterlife. I did what I had to to stay alive."

"I see. And the shipment?"

"I have it. Had to get it back from the Talons you'd mentioned, but it's all here and accounted for."

The general cocked his head at her thoughtfully. "One turian was able to recover a truckload of... provisions against an entire band of mercs?"

Vetra made a show of squaring her shoulders and standing to her full height, which was dauntingly high for most. Her brow was nearly level with the roof of the truck. "You paid for the best."

Doubt still swam across the man's features as he reeled. "Very well. You remember the location of the rendevous, I take it."

"Oh, I do. But there's one little problem with that." She leaned in imposingly. "A problem you failed to share with me when you were clueing me in on our opposition. Why didn't you tell me about the adjutants?"

Failing to be daunted, he countered with grit in his voice. "I did impose haste as to arriving at your destination, did I not?" Before she could berate him further, he continued. "The parcels you're carrying are a means to an end: the adjutants are proving to be a nuisance. They were created with Collector technology; therefore, I need Collector tech in order to wrangle them back in."

"What are they?"

"Containment shields. My forces are adequate enough to corral them but I needed something that would be impenetrable once errected. Then they can be dealt with."

Jutting her chin behind her, she countered with, "I have them." She sidestepped until she reached the latch, unfastening it and letting the door swing wide, showing the containers inside. "But I need proof that I will get my payment and get a ship so I can put as much distance between me and those things as possible once I deliver them to you. I'm not getting caught dead on this rock. Got it?"

"And how would you like me to provide you proof, Ms. Nyx?"

"Don't make nice." She slammed the door shut. "You lost that chance when your lie of omission nearly got me killed. We meet back at the same hangar that I docked at, ship ready to go, and I leave the vehicle with your forces. Getting it across town is your responsibility now."

The general glared in response. "I paid for an escort to my facilities. Your payment will be docked."

"You haven't paid for shit yet. And quite honestly, I can blow this thing to smithereens if I don't like the next answer you give me. You want what I got? You'll pay full price. Consider yourself lucky I'm not asking for my crew's wages too; not like they'll be needing it anymore."

She relished the look on his virtual face as he stewed. "You're a shrewd businesswoman, Ms. Nyx." He punched a few dials on his omnitool and hers lit up. Glancing down, she saw the credit transfer go through. Petrovsky turned away, walking back to where his soldiers stood as his image faded away from view. "Consider it done."

Cautiously, she edged back and opened the rover door, hiking herself back up into her seat before reversing out of target range and heading to the docking hangar. So far so good.

[...]

"Take it easy once you've got eyes on the docking bay," Nyreen's voice sounded in her ear.

"Yeah, yeah, got it," she hissed back.

"Vetra." The voice over the intercom was stern, chastising. "You need to be ready for anything. They're not gonna just let you walk out of there. And even if we do get you inside the bird, once you're in the air we can't provide aid against their cannons."

"Got it," she repeated. She was winging it, but at least this time she knew it. She just hoped her luck would hold out.

There they were, lined up and waiting for her, a smattering of white, black, and yellow gunning for a single turian. She felt a small swell of pride in her chest, but quelled it as quickly as it came. Pride would get her killed. She needed her wits about her if she was going to survive this; she was the maestro and they were her instruments.

She did as Nyreen had advised and eased up while she was still several yards back. Coming in hot would send them into panic. One of the troopers in heavy armor stepped out from the ranks, gloved hand raised. Braking fully and degearing into park, she exited the driver's side and took a few guarded steps forward.

Her eyes scanned the area. A line of men, less than two dozen, made up their party. There were more close by, that was a given. But twenty-odd men... it was all that stood between her and her taxi out of here.

"We'll take over from here." The line started their advance.

It was her turn to hold up a hand. They stopped, weapons clenched tightly.

"Gladly. But first, our deal was that I'd have proof the bird was ready to go." She pointed to the gravity entanglers that held the ship captive while engaged. "Show me."

At first there was no movement from the crowd before her. But, after receiving orders through their headsets no doubt, the same soldier lit up his omnitool and entered a command code. Using her visor's magnifier, she zoomed in and recorded the movement, making a silent promise to Nyreen that she'd sent the footage if she ever made it out of here alive. It might give others a chance to follow her.

A rush if air billowed her tunic as the locks unfastened. "There," the trooper called to her. "It's done. Now hand over the truck."

"All yours, big guy," she teased, gesturing behind her with one hand while the other enclosed around the hilt of her rifle. "Now!"

On cue, the back door of the transport was flung open and Talons poured out of it, overwhelming the Cerberus squad in seconds. One of them hopped into the driver's seat and took off back the way they came, the others running into a nearby duct and making for an escape before reinforcements could arrive.

Vetra was way ahead of them. Shooting through the soldiers directly in her path, she ran at the ship, bounding up the stairs and to the ship's helm. In a matter of seconds she was punching the coordinates of the mass relay into the flight plan and syncing up to enter FTL flight. She just needed to make it past the fleet that was already targeting their giant fucking guns at her. There was one directly in front of her, massive compared her tiny aircraft, still slowly turning towards her approach. Her fingers played the controls like a familiar harp; punching the reactor for all the juice it had, she soared at it with ramming speeds that would crush her on impact. At the last second, she deftly maneuvered up and around the Cerberus vessel, narrowly missing it. Spinning, swerving, and dodging the beams shot her direction, she made it to the relay with three of her four engines failing, the ass end of her bird completely missing.

"Come on, come on," she urged the ship, critical systems alerts overtaking her screen, bathing it red.

And then, finally, FTL kicked in. She was sucked to safety in the vacuum of her flight vortex and she took a steadying breath, cursing lowly. She waited for the quake of her chest to pass before rerouting all non-critical power to the ship's primary systems. Her shoulder throbbed in pain but she ignored it; one of the hits she'd taken had rocked the ship hard enough to send her into the metal plating to her left. Gingerly, she made to get up and search for a helmet in case she lost life support when her dash notified her of an incoming message. Thinking it to be Nyreen seeing if she'd made it in one piece, she flicked it open but sucked in a breath at the sight of a pale, starch uniform.

"I must say, well done." His smile seemed genuine enough, his words easy and light. "It seems I really did pay for the best. But no matter. We have what we came for, and your services will no longer be required. I would run as far away as you can, Vetra. You've made a very dangerous enemy in Cerberus."

"I've got news for you, pal," she spat. "Half the galaxy already wants me dead. You're just another name on the list. And don't worry, you'll never see me again. I plan on taking this show on the road." Her hand hovered over the disconnect button. "Enjoy my little present," she added, slamming her fist down to end the call.

Quickly, she entered the secure channel she used strictly for Sid.

"Hey, sis. You coming home?"

"Sid, listen to me," Vetra began, calm and firm. "We gotta go. Get your things and get ready for a road trip of a lifetime."

"Are we going somewhere nice this time?" Sid replied, annoyed as always at another one of her big sister's brilliant ideas.

"The best, this time. But it was a pretty penny for this one. I've got some... unhappy clients. Go to the place I showed you. Don't talk to anybody, don't stop to grab food, nothing. Understood?"

"Really, Vetra? Who did you piss off now?"

"Cerberus," she admitted after a brief pause. Sid deserved to know.

Sid swore loudly. "Okay, just... make it there in one piece, okay? Love you."

"I love you too, kiddo. Be safe," she warned before disconnecting. She looked down at her hands. The were gripping the armrests too hard, shaking violently.

More deep breaths and she steeled herself for one last message. She forwarded the footage she's stolen away earlier and forwarded a short and simple message along with it: "Thanks."

[...]

General Petrovsky gritted his teeth, staring at the now blank screen. A few seconds later, one of his teams patched through a call. He clicked his interface and stood at attention.

"General." The soldier before him had a piece of his helmet blown off, his Reaper augments visible.

"I want the contents of that vehicle no matter what the cost. Understood?"

"That's the reason for my call; we've found the transport abandoned just outside of Talon territory. We checked the interior: all of the shipping containers were empty. Except for one."

"And."

"...there was a bomb rigged to detonate if lid was removed from it's crate."

"Are you telling me the Talons have the tech?"

"We believe so, sir."

Petrovsky took a steadying breath, holding it until he could feel the vein in his temple receed. "No matter. Check security footage timestamped when the convoy was initially overrun. Trace it back to the site they've stored it at. Take teams Charlie, Delta, and Echo to reclaim my package. At. Any. Cost," he repeated.

"Yes, sir." His mangled face faded from view.

Turning, he strolled over to where a chess set stood, laid atop a desk he'd had dragged into his makeshift command center. Taking one if the GUI interface castles, he slid it along the board until it knocked over a wooden pawn in it's path.

"Well played, Nyx. Let's see if our other turian friend can hold up as well."