Chapter 21: Grudge of the Shadow Broker
“It's okay...
breathe.” Sha'ira said calmly, holding my hands as they tensed up.
So I did. In through the nose, counted to seven, then exhaled for an
eight count. It was after the third deep breath I was finally able to
relax.
“So now you
know...” I replied, the words coming out more bitter than I wanted.
My entire body released itself of tension as I closed my eyes,
feeling only the warmth of her lap on the back of my head and her
hand in mine, the sound cancellation of her pod making it feel as if
there was only me and this other asari in the entire universe. Of
course I wound up telling her everything. My nature as a Jumper, the
stress of Shepard's mission, what Morinth had done to me, and my most
recent brush with death with Kasumi.
“Believe me or
not, that's up to you. But it's the truth.” I finally exhaled,
breaking the silence that felt as thick as black smoke.
Sha'ira simply put a
hand on my forehead. “Have you told anyone else?”
“Aside from Dr.
Dren...just one other.” I hesitated to name Commander Shepard, but
something tells me she knew already.
“Well, that
explains a lot then.”
I looked up at her
with an eyebrow raised.
“You are so closed
off that no one is willing to fully trust you. You claim to be what
you are but you act like it's something to be ashamed of.”
“Sha'ira, of all
the fantastic things that happens in the galaxy, claiming to be a
pan-dimensional traveler in an asari skinsuit still sounds like
something that would put you in the psych ward.” I retorted.
“And why exactly
are you so worried about being seen like that? From the way you
talked about Jack, she managed to get her life around and make a
living for herself despite having a past far more traumatic and harsh
than yours.”
I slowly got up and
crossed my arms. She had a point.
“The only reason
why I kept it to myself is because I needed people to trust me, so
that when I said I was here to help, they'd believe me.”
“And now you're
the head of a major corporation leading the front in weapons
development with a staff that clearly respects you and you've
publicly been seen aiding the Alliance, the Council, and the
Spectres.” She place a hand on my shoulder. “What exactly is
keeping you from opening up now?”
My session with
Sha'ira ended the same as before. With her reading my future, once
again claiming it was uncertain and murky despite seeing nothing but
the greatest of adversity. Whether or not this was due to me being a
Jumper was a thought I tried not to entertain. I donned my quick
disguise, complete with a face-concealing mask, and made my way out
of the Citadel and made my way back to my shuttle via my Warehouse.
After the attack by those vorcha agents on Omega and the Shadow
Broker gunning for me with Morinth, I did my best not to stay in one
place for long, much to the chagrin of the company's board of
directors. I've been applying pressure to Cerberus with my weapon
dealing, one of most dangerous information brokers in the galaxy
wants my secrets, and for whatever reason, the Reapers were sending
out resources of their own to tear me apart in addition to their mass
human colony abduction through the Collectors.
Sha'ira was right. I
needed some serious confidants and fast if I was going to survive.
So I asked my pilot
to take me to Grissom Academy to check up on Jack.
On the surface, the
space station that is the Academy is a prestigious place of higher
learning for gifted intelligence. Math, Science, Liberal Arts. It's
like Harvard or Cambridge in space. But it's also home to the
Ascension Project, a dedicated program to help those with biotic
power to hone their skills. Not exclusively a military program
either. If someone was born with biotic power and just wanted to
learn control, the doors were open if they knew the right people.
Still feels weird knowing that someone as aggressive as Jack teaches
there now.
After docking I told
my pilot to stay with the ship and stepped in to the atrium. A
security guard stopped me and asked what my business was. I simply
told him I was here to see Jack and that I was an old friend, keeping
my disguise up. To my delight, he accepted that and let me pass.
A few long hall ways
littered with some teen and young adult students later and I made my
way to the training yard...
… just in time to
dodge someone being flung bodily at the wall. Human woman from the
looks of it with short red hair. Before I could even check to see if
she was okay, she simply got up, dusted herself off and declared,
“That was awesome!” to the rest of the class.
And of course in the
center of the yard was Jack, her arms crossed with a smirk on her
face; probably because she was the one who chucked redhead across the
room. Her hair was still growing out but was now in a decent
ponytail, her outfit notably more conservative than her street tattoo
tough girl appearance, I couldn't help but smile at how comfortable
she looked in the role.
She saw me approach
the class, “Alright, what exactly is so urgent that you couldn't
wait for our training exercise to conclude?” she growled, her hands
already glowing blue with biotic wrath.
I pulled off my
disguise of wraps and contact lenses. “Can't an old friend show up
out of nowhere and see how they're doing?”
“Variza!?” She
yelled in surprise. “What the eff are you doing here!?”
I heard whispers
among the students. “Variza? That Variza? The one who fought with
Jack on Shepard's crew?”
“Wondering when
exactly you started watching your language for one, and wanting to
talk to you about something personal and important for two.” I
snapped a glance to the students. It was a good mix of anxious
excitement.
Jack turned to her
students and made several quick gestures to them. They began breaking
up into pairs and seemed to go through some basic drills. She turned
to me and stuck a thumb over to a small room to my left.
The room was an
unused classroom with windows looking into the yard. When I stepped
in Jack was facing me, but was also clearly keeping an eye on the
students in the yard.
“Alright blue,
what's this about?” her tone was neutral, but her stare was
piercing.
I cleared my throat
and tried to speak. Then a lump got there. Dammit.
“Well..I...remember when-”
“It's been close
to a month since you and I last talked and I still haven't heard
squat about the Reapers or what Shepard is up to, and you decide to
show up looking like some weird homeless person crashing my class. So
unless you got in bad with gangsters or whatever or you're about to
let me in on some Reaper busting operation in the next two minutes
I'm gonna chuck you out an airlock.”
My Omni-Tool started
beeping with an incoming message. I sent it to voicemail.
“Well Jack. That's
the thing. I haven't exactly been honest with you. You see, I've been
doing some jobs for Shepard dealing with the human colony
disappearances.”
Jack shot me a dirty
look of betrayal.
“Oh come on,
you've been doing covert ops for the Alliance on the side too, don't
give me that.”
“Yeah, but every
time those colonies are brought up the Alliance pulls rank and tells
me to forget about it. Which means someone hasn't let me in on what
Shepard's been doing.” She took two hostile steps towards me. “I
thought we were friends, Variza.”
My Omni-Tool beeped
again. I simply deactivated it in frustration. “We are, Jack. Which
is exactly why this bullheaded act isn't working on me. You wanna
know why I haven't told you? The night Shepard told me about the
operation, an Ardat-Yakshi tried to assassinate me in my own home. I
had to avoid any and all communications that might have given me away
while going into the Terminus Systems to recruit a manic scientist
and a master thief which involved escaping augmented death troopers
and pulling off a major heist under the nose of an arms dealer and an
unhinged human supremacist that clearly sees me and my weapons
company as a giant black eye to 'his people.'
“So yes, Jack. After getting patched up, speaking to my therapist, covering my tracks and handling a bunch of crazies, I'm now finding the time to clue you in because I still respect you as a friend. So how about you stop foaming at the mouth about Reapers for ten seconds and let me say what I have to say?”
“So yes, Jack. After getting patched up, speaking to my therapist, covering my tracks and handling a bunch of crazies, I'm now finding the time to clue you in because I still respect you as a friend. So how about you stop foaming at the mouth about Reapers for ten seconds and let me say what I have to say?”
I didn't realize
that I took some steps on Jack, calling her bluff. She was now
leaning pack, practically sitting on the desk behind her, her
expression pensive.
“Alright Variza,
alright. Jesus.” she gasped as I slowly backed off.
Then my Omni-Tool
activated on its own and began broadcasting audio.
“Variza T'Som.
This is the Shadow Broker.” The voice modulated into an unnatural
deep timbre.
“How in the-?” I
began. I re-wired my Tool to stay off the Extranet, keeping it analog
to avoid something like this. Then I found something on the bottom of
the Tool. A small black disc attached to it, and by extension the
bottom of my right forearm. It turned my blood into liquid nitrogen.
“As you may have
noticed by now, one of my agents has managed to bug your Tool so we
can have this conversation. You might be trying to be off the
grid...but I have eyes everywhere.” I gulped nervously at the
emphasis on that last phrase. “You managed to survive the assassin
I sent after you, and for that you have a small modicum of my
respect. And for that I shall give you a choice in how to handle my
offer. You have three days to give up your secret weapon development
project research to one of my agents on the asari world of Illium. Do
this and I shall allow you to live as a figurehead for the company.
You will live and I shall simply take a percentage of your annual
earnings from your account. You try to remove that disc or refuse,
and I shall simply buy the controlling share of the stocks through my
intermediaries and take these secrets myself, voting you out and
ending your life to cover my tracks. The choice is your Miss T'Som.
The clock is ticking, and I will be watching.”
The silence
following the message clicking off was so sudden you could hear a pin
drop.
“Alright, what the
fuck did you step into?” Jack blurted out.
“Remember that
Ardat-Yakshi that almost killed me? She worked for him....”
“Sweet fucking
Christ, Variza....”
The ride out of
Grissom Academy went by in a haze. I had Jack fly, though I did have
to talk her out of killing the pilot for possibly working for the
Broker. It literally could have been anyone on the Citadel or Grissom
Academy to tag my Tool and I didn't want to work on maybes if I was
going to kill someone.
Other than that one
altercation my mind was racing, trying to figure out how to stop this
deal with the Shadow Broker. There was no way I could exploit a
loophole, when someone with his kind of power delivers an ultimatum
you have to be able to match him in case it goes wrong and I...
can't. At the same time if the Broker got my weapon plans he could
sell it to just about anyone, possibly even the Collectors as they've
been known to make discrete deals for advanced technology on the
fringes of the Milky Way – which would make my entire breakneck
arms race against the Reapers pointless. So it looked like I only had
one option....
I would have to find
and stop the Shadow Broker himself.
Then I lost ten
years off my asari lifespan realizing that I may have doomed myself
already. The only way anyone was able to pin down the Shadow Broker's
base of operations, a space station on some turbulent gas giant, was
through a large collection of small but significant circumstances
involving an info trafficker named Feron, and a certain information
broker on Illium, including them fighting off attempts by the
Collectors to abduct Commander Shepard's corpse six months after the
Battle of the Citadel.
Except that Shepard
never died. And that information broker as far as I know is too busy
coordinating the construction of the Crucible Project. Which means
Feron might as well be in another dimension as far as me being able
to contact him. And even if I could remember what planet the Broker's
base is on, the atmosphere is so violent any ship sent would be torn
to shreds. Not to mention the issue of precise coordinates.
But Feron's the
closest thing to a lead I have.
“Jack, we need to
head to Illium.”
“Like hell we are,
blue!” Jack snapped back from the cockpit.
“I'm not-” I
stopped myself and looked at the tracker on my Omni-Tool. Was it
bugged? Was he listening? I don't know, and I can't remove it to find
out. I shook my head. “We need information. Illium is the info
broker capital of the galaxy. And I have an idea as to who to talk
to.”
“How?” She said
sharply.
Crap. Think of
something, smart guy!
“I have some
contacts over there from the bean counters regarding long-term
investments and...corporate synergy.” I muttered. Dammit Weird Al!
“Huh. Makes sense
I guess.” Jack replied with an implicit shrug.
Smooth, real smooth.
Jack guided the
shuttle to closest Mass Relay and we were on our way to the asari
world with only a flimsy possible lead to ending one of the most
dangerous forces in the galaxy.
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