Liara T'Soni.
We arrived at the Salarian colony of Erinle. A planet with a dying ecosystem, so it's written. Formerly a tropical world, brought by Salarian industry to the state of a decaying corpse, with dead fauna, dying plants, acid rain, and other "joys" of life. But still a major production and logistics center of Salarian space. As they decided, it's better to extend the logistics than to settle and foul another world.
The flight went without problems; there were no idiots among the crew trying to mess with the commandos. And it didn't take much time—four hours for the flight, for which the captain charged an absolutely indecent sum, the miser. It would have been much easier and faster if not for the conspiracy. The thought that this miser can be shot with a clear conscience is comforting. But for now, he's needed. I hope he doesn't manage to create even more problems for us.
Conspiracy is necessary in our business. Asari commandos from the Republic in an internal Salarian colony would be, if not turned back, then frozen out for a long time while they figured out what we were doing here. Our time is limited, it doesn't suit us, and attracting attention is undesirable; they might warn whoever needs warning.
But mercenaries on an old freighter with a strange Batarian captain and a crew of free traders weren't even particularly bothered. They shook down a small sum for passage and calmly let us through.
As a result, everyone is happy: me, the crew, the commandos. Captain Vorhess is also perfectly calm, and with a certain laziness, he threw out:
"You can tell right away, landlubbers. Nothing to worry about. I told you we'd pass without problems, and you were stressed. Doubted me, Captain Vorhess himself! I'm an experienced captain; I have everything under control. Do you know what my name means? No? A bird, a little one, can squeeze into the smallest hole, or I'm not the captain of this tub. Which city do we need, by the way?"
Not a trivial question; the planet is quite populated, after all, a major border port and a huge production center between the Terminus Systems and Salarian space. Quite strict border control, which is logical—Terminus is nearby, smuggling is continuous. And while Salarians usually let chemicals, fuel, or resources through, they search for and seize drugs and other goods. But there is a good window: corporate spaceports.
There are spaceports designed for various types of cargo in large volumes. There, offloading occurs into huge logistics warehouses, from where it's transported to points of sale. Inspections of such volumes are very selective, and if you have a way to convince customs not to look, through a Shadow Broker payment, for example... Everyone understands how it works.
One can hope that the Salarian mercenaries also preferred not to attract attention to themselves and did the same. Salarian clans are managed by their Dalatresses, often the mothers of an entire generation. The fact that one clan captured Li doesn't mean others won't try to show interest for their own profit. Which means...
That's right, a small town in the south; for the most part, it's a cargo logistics spaceport, warehouses, and pilot services. And Li is exactly there, as I thought. Liara, you're a genius.
All that's needed is to contact a couple of beings and convince them that our completely unsuspicious transport is arriving at the spaceport perfectly legally, honestly. It took about an hour, after which I pulled the captain aside.
"That's where we need to go," I pointed to the spot on the map.
"The invoices are ready, the warehouse is rented. We can land."
The Captain nodded thoughtfully. He hadn't been particularly talkative throughout the flight. He checked the map to see where we were landing, coordinated the route, and turned to me.
"Interesting choice, though not the best for mercenaries, no. But the customer is always right, ha-ha! Even when he's wrong. But the documents are real, so I'm flying on wings of money to a port where alcohol and loose women await us. Forward!"
I don't like this Batarian; he acts like he's constantly on drugs. Plus, his Pyjak demonstrates unreal skills in stealth and kleptomania. In four hours, this little creature, which can crawl into any vent, was chased away five times. They only didn't shoot it because it's incredibly fast when scared.
In any case, as long as Captain Vorhess hasn't betrayed us, I've mined the ship just in case with the help of the commandos. One command and the reactor will become unstable; if it doesn't explode, it will kill the entire crew with radiation, turning the ship into a tomb. So I gave the order:
"Land us here. It's time to close the contract."
This lifted the spirits of both the Captain and the pilot landing the ship. The money for a single flight turned out to be decent. Vorhess tried to smile; it came out more like a snarl.
"I never doubted you. It's a pleasure to deal with honest sentients. I think the sailors and I will stick around for a couple of days, look for a new cargo or some other work. If you need to fly anywhere else, I'll be in the bar. Still, it's a pleasure to deal with you, Doctor! Very profitable and very pleasant!"
It's pleasant to deal with honest sentients when you aren't one yourself, right? I'm not sure how many items we'll find missing after disembarking. If it's too many, I can arrange an accident for the Captain or a sudden customs inspection. With the Shadow Broker's resources, it's easier than ever.
I returned to the compartment with the commandos and announced:
"Li is in one of these hangars. We'll conduct reconnaissance and think about how to get her out."
The commandos nodded, checking their weapons. It was obvious to everyone that the rescue would involve a firefight. And so we disembarked, moving to our respective places in this story.
As expected, we found ourselves in a classic cargo port. Rows of wide and high hangars, many with ships undergoing loading and unloading. The warehouses are connected to the ships by umbilical sleeves, so the contents of their holds remain a mystery to the casual observer. On the other side of the warehouse, trucks take the cargo to other locations (other warehouses or elsewhere), and further off, a monorail cargo terminal is visible. In short, a standard large logistics center.
Above us was a violet-orange sky. There was no rain; otherwise, it would have been more difficult, as the rains on this planet are acidic. It's better not to walk under the open sky; there are biosphere domes for that.
While loading or unloading takes place, the crew can wait in the hotel and entertainment complex nearby. The Captain and several mercenaries headed there, while I needed to go in the opposite direction, toward the warehouses. That's where Li's Omni-tool signal originated.
Second row, fourteenth warehouse. And a very familiar ship was docked at the required warehouse. Next to it stood another one of an unfamiliar design, docked to the same warehouse through an adjacent sleeve.
An unusual ship, I've never seen anything like it. Elongated, about two hundred meters long, not at all like the Salarian style of shipbuilding—too square. And cylinders, likely engines, were located along the sides.
It was connected to the warehouse; telling what was inside was impossible. Hacking was a bad idea. The security system was localized to the specific warehouse and connected to the main grid only by an alarm system cable; it couldn't be hacked remotely, or at least they'd notice from inside the warehouse. At most, I could request a repeat signal from Li's Omni-tool to be sure, but it's better not to do that unnecessarily—they might detect the transmission. We won't expose ourselves like that.
No matter, it's not the first time working in such conditions. Cloaking will help get closer; I just need to attach myself to the undercarriage of an automated logistics truck and ride it where I need to go. It's not easy, it's dangerous, but the vehicle can be hacked directly to set the desired course. Where there's a will and capability, there's a way, and I have both.
An hour later, I was at the warehouse. The truck drove past, creating a small jam and slowing down, which allowed me to slip through and reach the destination under cloaking (optical, invisibility) without attracting attention. Kasumi, thank you for the lessons and the device schematics.
"The locals sure love their secrecy."
No, seriously. A windowless five-story building with only a few doors. You could get inside either through the truck entrance, the ship airlock, or several doors with cameras hanging over them and, surely, sensors; pressure plates were visible on the floor. While I watched, a mercenary stepped out of a door, triggering the alarm and bright illumination. And that was just the automation.
From my position, I could clearly see sentries walking on the roof, and pairs of Salarian mercenaries patrolling around the warehouse. With automatic weapons. No snipers were visible, but the patrolmen's helmets were clearly not simple—they had wide-range signal sensors. Better not to go in there. Kasumi Goto might have had a chance, but I am not her, unfortunately.
It was perfectly obvious that these were not ordinary mercenaries; even for Salarians, such equipment is expensive. This level of secrecy (and these are only the systems visible to the naked eye; Thane or Kasumi would likely see much more) is characteristic not of mercenaries, but of secret facilities.
Let's just say it: breaking into the warehouse is a stupid idea. If an alarm is raised, and it likely would be, there'd be no way out. And I already know from personal experience that I can't get in without making noise.
That means Plan B. Li's signal is coming from inside. The Salarians are transferring sentients from ship to ship for transport somewhere, and that ship is also here. They won't transport sentients by truck; the chance of such traffic being discovered is too high, leading to questions. This warehouse is completely isolated; the port is not. This means loading and unloading happen directly at this warehouse. I can work with that.
All I need to do is place a beacon on the second ship, activate it at the right moment, and take the ship by storm. It looks like I need the help of a certain Batarian again. First, with a precise throw, attach the beacon—designed as a well-gliding magnetic disk, or a "frisbee" as Humans call it—to the hull. My work here is done; I need to leave quietly and unnoticed.
Then, under cloaking and using the trucks, arrive at the recreation zone. No need to rush; the main thing is not to be noticed. Three hours later, I was there; no alarm, it seems I left quietly.
The port's recreation zone was quite civilized. Not wealthy, but it had everything: living quarters, entertainment, cafeterias, and bars. Everything ship crews might need. And there was security to keep order. Given that some of the guests were mercenaries, the security was equipped in medium armor and well-armed. Nodding to the commandos, I approached the only sentient who stood out from the crowd.
Captain Vorhess, just like last time, was drinking. And he didn't look drunk at all. Seeing me, he laughed.
"Oh, Doctor! Missed me already? Or do you wish to experience true captain's charm, hmm?"
"Don't hold your breath, Captain. I'm going to hire you again. I need one more flight."
The Batarian spread his arms as if about to hug me. But he didn't even stand up, just roared with laughter across the hall, drawing attention and irritated comments.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha! I'm very glad, you pay so wonderfully!" He paused, tapping his finger on his chin. "I just need a little time to gather the team, recruit additional crew. They might be happy with their share now, but a couple of shooters won't hurt. I think it'll take a week or so. Savvy?"
And he looked at me with interest. Greedy bastard. You want too much, Captain. I've already paid plenty. That money will stick in your throat.
"Time and a half," I agreed, already calculating how best to solve this problem. Radically.
"Double!" Vorhess countered immediately.
I gave him my heaviest look.
"Double. We lift off now, after loading onto the ship. And keep your little beast on a leash, or I'll drown it in the latrine."
This Batarian is definitely not simple. If he hadn't sobered up, he walked toward the exit of the waiting hall almost perfectly straight. I contacted the commandos and outlined the plan. It was simple: if we can't attack the ship on the surface, we can do it in space. Away from defense systems and a bunch of security. A squad of biotic commandos, on equal terms, will grind a Salarian squad into the deck plating without a chance. Asari commandos are the best of the best. Perhaps Human giants could compete, but among the Council Races, the Republic commandos have no rivals and never will.
Upon arriving at our warehouse and ship, it turned out the Captain was painting a Salarian skull and crossbones on the side of his freighter. I couldn't help but ask:
"And what does that mean?"
He continued painting but explained:
"It's simple. We arrive at a cargo port with a squad of mercenaries. And then, after reconnaissance, we leave! We're going to raid 'caravans,' and would I, Captain Vorhess, refuse such a thing? Never in my life!" In the process, the Batarian stopped painting and began to gesture animatedly.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching us. But no, the space was large enough; the nearest sentients were four hundred meters away. Unless there were listening systems right here. And they were; we were on a Salarian planet.
"If I were you, I'd watch what I say, Captain."
He waved it off.
"It's clear right away that you, Doctor, understand absolutely nothing of the pirate trade. Keep it simple, Doctor. Simple. By the time the rest of the crew arrives, I'll be finished painting, and the pilot will have warmed up the engines. Savvy?"
Naturally, after takeoff, we didn't immediately attack anyone. At the very least, we had to wait until our target took off itself. In this, the Shadow Broker's connections among the dispatchers helped me again. I didn't tell the Captain exactly what I was doing or who my informant was, though he didn't ask.
I was working at the terminal when the Captain entered the cabin.
"Greetings, Doctor. Ready for robbery and violence?"
I looked at him suspiciously.
"What do you want, Vorhess?"
He said lightheartedly:
"Just came to say the crew needs cheering up. They're smugglers and loyal only to themselves. And they might not like the idea of taking a ship by storm."
I frowned.
"Captain, are you really unable to handle your own crew? Especially considering the size of the fee I'm paying you. Let's be honest, you're charging an absolutely indecent amount for this trip. So earn it."
He shrugged.
"I can handle them, of course. That's why I came to you. These guys are loyal only to themselves. And my gut tells me we're about to be robbed and screwed. And even you won't like that, Doc. I'm just informing the client of upcoming problems. As a responsible mercenary. Savvy what I'm getting at?"
I thought about it but waved it off.
"There are enough of us, we're in armor and better armed. We'll solve the problem when it arises."
The Captain chuckled, jokingly saluting and winking with his lower right and upper left eyes.
"Understood, I'll go prepare for the boarding, ha-ha. I know for sure, someone's going to die today..."
The ship launched another day later, which we had to spend waiting in space. The crew asked no questions, and the commandos even less so. The crew was a bit nervous, but seeing the general mood of the commandos, they just sat and waited, while the Captain did his part in maintaining discipline.
As soon as the signal came from the dispatcher, I activated both beacons—on Li's Omni-tool and on the ship's hull. And I realized the ship was moving not toward the Mass Relay, where we had been hanging out all this time, but in a completely different direction.
"Captain! Intercept course!"
He nodded.
"Give 'em the aft and bow! Full speed ahead! Move it, you Pyjaks, before I throw you overboard and make you push by hand!"
The pilot looked at him suspiciously.
"Cap, are we chasing that transport? We're gonna have problems, Cap."
He looked at his subordinate, then at me and the two commandos standing by the wall.
"You seem smart, yet you ask such stupid questions. We're just flying where I said. And these blue ladies here will be the ones boarding the ship. You can refuse, of course. And leave."
He looked at the Captain suspiciously, as did the gunners.
"We're in space."
He nodded.
"Well, yeah. And it's cold outside and there's nothing to breathe. So listen to me, you tunnel rats! Forward, before I throw you into the airlock! Boarding stations! Ha-ha-ha! I'll make you the most famous sea wolves in all of the Terminus Systems! Or did you landlubber rats think you could earn this kind of money without getting dirty?"
The commandos exchanged glances; I just spread my arms. Yes, he's strange, but if anything happens, he's expendable. Vorhess didn't shut up.
"Three minutes to intercept. Gunners, ready! Fire across their bow. Prepare for boarding!"
Yes, the ship had several small-caliber guns. You couldn't do much against warships unless you had numbers. But against other transports or Strike Craft, it might work.
We attacked, and they started firing back. A fairly large transport, but its weapons were clearly tuned against small targets. It makes sense if the ship is meant to travel in Citadel Space; only anti-meteorite protection is allowed for such transports there. Want more? You hire a convoy from authorized and registered security companies. Well, our ship is registered in the Terminus Systems; we don't have those problems as long as we don't poke into the Traverse or Council Races territory. On border worlds like this, they turn a blind eye to such things. They were just unlucky.
"They're contacting us, Captain," the pilot reported.
A Salarian voice came over the comms.
"This is a corporate ship. If you continue, you will be found, no matter where you hide. Your corpses will burn at the bottom of the deepest hole in the Terminus. Cease pursuit immediately. You will be found and presented with the bill."
Vorhess smirked, walked over to one of the panels, and pressed several buttons. A beep sounded.
"How about now? Can you handle a full rocket salvo to the engines? Don't be stupid, kid. Do you want to die? Breathing during decompression is hard, you know. So, what's your final decision?"
Except there were no rockets on board, only a simulation of a targeting system. Why? For this very reason—to scare off pirates. You don't know if they can "surprise" you with a rocket salvo or not. The GARDIAN system with an anti-missile module is military-grade; you can't put that on every ship. So the mere fact of a threat works quite well.
"We surrender," they replied a minute later, "but you will regret this."
And immediately the operator, a commando, reported:
"They've sent a distress call; we need to hurry."
The assault went like clockwork. A dozen and a half Salarian mercenaries tried to resist; they had good weapons, gear, and armor. But we had ten trained and coordinated Asari biotics in armor and with weapons that were just as good. Ten minutes later, I, the commandos, and Captain Vorhess were on the bridge of the enemy ship, having wiped out the crew. I immediately started scouring their system.
"Alright, there are almost a hundred and fifty sentients on board."
"Slavers?" the Batarian asked with interest. "What curious individuals. So we've done a good deed, it seems. A very well-paid good deed, I like it."
I waved him off, especially since all the main information had been wiped from the computer. The door opened, and a commando entered the room.
"We have two problems. The ship we arrived on has undocked, just as you said, Doctor. And a patrol Frigate is heading our way from the planet. We have no more than an hour."
The Captain laughed.
"Like I said, smugglers are loyal only to themselves. Good thing I didn't pay them for this job."
I switched to my Omni-tool, entering the detonation code. A flash became visible through the main viewport.
"One less problem. Did you find Li?"
The commando nodded.
"Among the cargo. She's not in the best shape, not thinking clearly. Looks like some kind of chemicals. Но she'll live."
Good. Our problem is something else. It looks like we're being cornered. Patrol ships are visible on the radars; we can't make it to the Mass Relay. Once they get within firing range, we won't get away.
Vorhess realized this too.
"So, what's the plan? We need to bolt before we have to file down the front sight of our trusty revolver."
I'm thinking, scanning the ship's systems. There is one option... Despite the central computer being wiped, the autopilot has several addresses. I have no idea where they lead; they aren't direct. Moreover, they have a range much greater than conventional FTL Drives. Smaller than the Shadow Throne, but I don't see the compensators here that my ship has.
But this is our salvation, probably... In a worst-case scenario, I could call in the Shadow Throne itself—risky, they might detect it, but it's a way out.
"Did we take our things from that ship?"
The commando nodded.
"Yes, Doctor. We prepared according to your assumption."
Excellent. Then we can risk it. And once in flight, I'll contact Benezia and request an extraction. We have almost no time left, and soon we'll be in the sights of the local security's MACs—also Salarian—who will definitely notice their colleagues' corpses.
"Route B-2. Launch."
The ship shuddered as we were pulled into a blue vortex.
"That is definitely not a normal Faster-Than-Light Drive," Vorhess said thoughtfully, looking at the instrument readings.
The autopilot shows everything is normal, but I agree. This is a very strange acceleration effect.
"I suggest going to the engine room and taking a look."
And it's not that I'm running from Li, though in a sense I am to blame. But something very strange is happening here. We are flying on autopilot to who-knows-where with a hundred and fifty living souls. Li is already with us; nothing will happen to her. But if I don't figure out what's going on, there will be problems.
It didn't get any clearer in the engine room. How I miss Tali! The Quarian would have understood what this monster was, consisting of a Mass Effect Core and a mechanism I don't even remotely understand, working as a pair. There's even a separate computer here with a VI to synchronize the two mechanisms. Naturally, the Batarian is here too.
"Vorhess, any ideas what this thing is?"
The Batarian shook his head thoughtfully.
"By my tricorn hat, I've never seen such an ugly piece of work. And we're flying somewhere with it. Have you tried stopping it?"
"No, Vorhess. The automation warns that turning off the engine before arrival is strictly forbidden. It seems we've stumbled into another adventure."
"Or the old one hasn't ended yet," the pirate countered. "But I don't mind, not at all! Perhaps we'll find treasure soon! Or losers who will pay us a decent price for these workers. They were being taken somewhere, after all."
Perhaps so. For now, I need to go to the cabin, rest, and talk to Benezia. And think.
***
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