 |
Sevipia gave the turian equivalent of a thumbs up. She tapped the side of her helmet, indicating her ears are still ringing from the explosion.
The turian’s head dipped as he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank the Spirits.”
Standing back up, he offered his hand to help Sev up. “We still have to save the quarian!” He yelled, using his free hand to do his best impression of a quarian’s mask, hoping to make the girl smile.
And she did smile at Kysar's almost comedic impression. Sevipia accepted his hand, and proceeded toward Zenn.
Zenn kept his hand pressed tight against his wound attempting to prevent any more bleeding. Any minute now Sev would round the corner, tell him the plan worked, then patch him up. At least that’s what he was trying to tell himself before he heard the rockets explode in the lobby. Panic started to set in as he began to wonder if he may have given Sev bad intel and gotten the turian killed. He did his best to hold the grim thoughts at bay, a task that grew harder with every passing second, until he was finally put at ease by the sight of Sev and Kysar emerging from the lobby. Sev quickly applied Medi-Gel and properly dressed the wound. Time would tell if they were fast enough to prevent any infection, but at least whatever had started would become any worse.
Kysar paced back and forth as Sev looked over the quarian. Banes had fled the scene, as well as several members of Reds being let go by his comrades. Something clawed at him from deep inside the pit of his stomach, gnawing and biting, the Turian couldn't stand still.
His quest for vengeance had fallen short. Too many would live to see another day without righteous retribution and with the governments of those left in disarray, who knows what they'd get up to. He paused as Zenn left, massaging his temples with a single hand. A King Kong sized headache wasn't helping, his skull was being drummed upon from the inside out. It was all but impossible to think straight.
"I just don't get it!" He growled to no one in particular, "Why did we have to let so many go?" The Turian's eyes narrowed as he caught Weisman in his peripherals.
"I made a promise."
Marching over, Kysar brandished his rifle. Who knew how many shots it would take to penetrate the gang bosses armour but the Turian had nothing but rounds and time.
"What are you doing?" Sev called out. "Venator?"
The turian strode on without missing a single beat as the pitter patter of lighter feet caught up to him. Grabbing him on the arm, the medic asked him again, "What do you think you're doing?"
Her voice was stone, an unyielding tone that demanded an answer. "I made a promise, Godmother!" Kysar replied.
"So what? Do you think you're the only one who lost someone today? They were my team too Kysar, and Solveig's. It doesn't give you the right to just do as you please."
Venator shrugged off the other turian's hand and took another step towards Weisman.
"If you really want to do them a service, then that man, for all his evils, is the only way we all find out the truth." Sev's voice softened as Kysar raised his rifle. "Please."
"Gah fuck's sake!" Lowering the gun, Venator swivelled on his heels, storming off in the opposite direction.
"Where are you off to now?" Sev asked.
"To make sure everyone makes it home."
As Solveig walked with the hostage from the freezer, she glanced down at Weisman, and then at the back of Kysar. She hesitated as she and the hostage came closer, her hand twitched nervously as she felt the urge to address him. With her eyes to the floor, she spoke loud enough for him to hear. "Hard to kill people... Harder to not kill monsters, but... the right thing." Her nervous glance trailed upwards but she broke it before she met his eyes, motioning for the hostage to sit with the others while she took a more hurried pace to Katya.
Kysar paused, tilting his head towards the N7 operative. The two hadn't really spoken since either of them had rejoined SRN. Was he angry with her? Did he blame her for leaving? Would her being there had even made a difference or would she be another victim the turian was about to prep for evac?
Too many thoughts and questions, this whole thing had been too much. As she scurried off Kysar took a deep breath in. He wanted to say something, thank her for her help, tell her to look after Katya. Something, anything. The turian exhaled, his mouth grimacing as Solveig disappeared. He nodded in solace with her statement, even if she didn't know it, and continued on.
Amina walked into the lobby, her Vindicator hanging loose in her right hand and a disgusted look etched over her face. I had him! she cursed to herself. All she could do now was hope that Outcast could catch him in the jeep.
If they don’t ride off together wherever they were going…
Amina still did not trust Outcast in full. Sure, they had helped them get here and sure they had been a part of the attack. But what had they really done? Amina hadn’t watched the mysterious figure like a hawk obviously, and she wondered just what all was at play on Outcasts side of the table tonight.
Am I just overthinking this? What if my suspicions are sorely misplaced? I need to talk to Lizbeth about this Outcast. Later. Right now I’m just too fried.
Amina looked around the room. Everyone looked bushed and the Lobby was a scorched mess from the shooting and explosions. Zenn despite the hit earlier seemed to be fine. The other Turian, Kysar, looked like he wanted to pummel down a wall with his bare fists. Amina looked down at the defeated Weisman, her eyes drifting to the Geth weapon nearby. With a shrug to herself as much as anyone else she shouldered her Vindicator and stepped forward, reaching down for the heavy weapon.
Amina had seen these near the end of the war, the Geth assisting in the battle for Earth had deployed them against Reaper ground forces. She remembered they packed a bell of a punch too. No shame in it since no one else seems to want it.
“I’ll go check around.” Amina announced, heading back through the door she came in - brandishing her new toy.
As soon as Nadara applied the medi-gel Zenobia offered, she felt relief from the gunshot wound to her shoulder. It was enough for the pain to subside for the moment, but if she wanted to regain full use of her right arm, she would need to be seen by proper medics.
Sevipia was busy enough tending to Zenn and the other hostages that had yet to awaken from the comas the Reds had surely induced. And for what purpose? She thought to herself, holding back a shudder as she released the asari hostage from her bonds and carried her over to where others had laid the other unresponsive hostages. What animals, the human gang had been. From how Amina had described the slaughtering room she’d emerged in, the Reds demonstrated not an ounce of mercy on their victims. What’s worse, they’d revived Reaper methods and equipment. Having participated at the very top of society for numerous species—come to think of it, it was highly unlikely the Vorcha even had an upper class, much less any class at all…—and from her stint in the asari military, Nadara was accustomed to rubbing elbows with nefarious types, but she wasn’t certain she’d encountered such blatant disregard for life before now, discounting the Reapers, of course.
Her gaze fell on Weisman, the Red’s “boss” and her eyes narrowed. She had a hunch the fellow that was able to escape—Banes was it?—had been the true puppeteer, but Weisman deserved as much retribution as was possible to give for his role in leading these degenerates. While Nadara didn’t understand the weight Kysar, Solveig, or Sevipia felt from losing their team to the man, she did understand justice. If he didn’t present such a precious opportunity to obtain information about everything that had transpired, Nadara might have argued in favor of Kysar getting his revenge on the man. Sevipia’s medical ethics be damned.
As it was, the medic was able to calm him down, and Solveig’s words had their own effect. The air in the room was heavy, and not just because the stench from unknown numbers of decaying bodies still lingered. Goddess, when was the last time she’d showered? Thankfully, her helmet filtered the majority of the stench.
Amina came to a doorway, weapon raised. The door was locked, Amina carefully reaching out to switch the lock off and slide the door open. The door shrieked metallically as it opened making her hair stand on end. Amina took three steps inside when she heard a crashing to her left. She turned sharply, Geth weapon raised and was met by a surprised cry.
“Ack! Please, don’t shoot!”
Standing in the corner of the room was an asari wearing a white dress uniform caked in dust and dirt. The asari was plastered back against the wall, arms raised defensively and a terrified look on her face. Amina lowered her weapon to her hip but said nothing, keeping her eyes on the asari.
“Who are you?” the asari asked shakily, “You don’t look like any of those thugs I have seen. I… heard all the shooting… the explosions…”
“My squad and I cleared the Reds out. We’re securing the facility now while we figure out what to do next.” Amina said roughly.
“Who are you with? The Alliance? Are you mercenaries?” the asari asked, deeming it safe to lower her hands even as she remained against the wall.
“Who are you?” Amina countered, eyes steely.
“Me? Well… I’m Zelifa D’Veo, renowned chef and owner of D’Veo’s Finer Culinary School on Thessia.”
Amina was taken aback. “What’s an asari chef doing on Earth and at a time like this?” she asked, one eyebrow arched sharply.
“Well,” Zelifa said, “I was here on Earth before the war broke out scouting to hopefully open a new school on the human homeworld. Needless to say when the Reaper things attacked I was… stranded here.”
“How did you end up with the Reds?” Amina inquired suspiciously.
“It wasn’t my wish, they did have me locked in this room for a reason after all. To make a long story short let us just say I was captured by them after the Reapers were wiped out and they wanted me to be a part of this… this slaughterhouse operation of theirs. It’s been… a terrible experience. Honestly I think they were just a hair away from killing me.”
Amina nodded slowly, eyes downcast.
“Can you get me out of here?” Zelifa asked, striding forward arms out. “I… really want to leave and I assume since you and this squad of yours killed all these thugs you are safer company than they are.”
“Bold assumption.”
Zelifa shrugged almost defeated.
Amina sighed, “Come on.”
As others shuffled off to perform various functions, Nadara decided she should investigate as well, and stumbled into a room of shipping crates of what appeared to be salarian organs. Sitting on a nearby table was a datapad along with a shipping manifest. From a quick overview, Nadara discovered the Reds had been luring salarians to Havana on the extranet, advertising an all inclusive travel package that even she would have been interested in, though the marketing and branding could be polished. As it was, they were able to abduct over a dozen salarians alone through this scam. The datapad held a number of messages between Weisman and Banes, revealing that it had been the latter who’d introduced the opportunity to sequester the salarian organs for sale to the Blood pack, further confirming Nadara’s earlier suspicions on Banes being the ultimate mastermind.
Nadara continued scrolling through the files on the datapad until she reached a request form from a Blood Pack member specifying the salarian livers were “best served raw, as fear adds spice”, along with a response from the Reds, confirming the victims were kept conscious while being disemboweled. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably, and Nadara quickly shut off the datapad and placed it face down on the table. That was more than enough information.
A final look at the crates before she regrouped with the others to notify them of her find revealed one final piece of this monstrous puzzle. A sticky note on one of the crates revealed that at least one shipment was marked for experiments on “vorcha longevity”, whatever that meant. Nadara didn’t want to know the methods.
"...the hell?"
Zenobia had been busy setting up the stolen explosives to deal with the last of the dragon's teeth, and her traipsing through the facility to find the required combustibles (and perhaps find a hidden enemy to fight) had brought her to the room with the shipping crates. The smell was too familiar to make her stomach turn, though not for lack of trying. Her hand ran over the shipping containers one by one, until she spotted the datapad lying face down on the table. She hesitated, before turning it over and daring to read the contents.
She spent so long inside that her teammates were probably concerned that she hadn't rejoined them yet. Bracing herself on the table as the words spun in her head, drawing ragged, shuddering breaths that turned into a dark chuckle. She rapped her knuckles on the tablet, before slamming her fist down hard, shattering it on the table. She ran her hand across her brow, unintentionally smearing it with blood from her hand as she strode out of the base, the corners of her mouth twitching as unpleasant childhood memories rushed through her head. Emerging from the building without her usual bombast, she spotted the encounter with their hostage as Kysar was talked down.
Were she perhaps the same teenager that found herself subject to the Blood Packs and their accomplices back on Omega, things would have gone differently for the instigator of this little operation. Maybe she'd have that chance with the boss, but for now...well, she wasn't going to be any nicer to their captive then the other turian was.
“I found someone.”
Amina and the asari chef entered the lobby, Zelifa standing uncomfortably close to Amina’s side.
“Oh, my…” Zelifa‘s right hand clapped over her mouth as she surveyed the armed group and the scattered bodies before her.
As Nadara approached the lobby, Amina entered from the opposite end accompanied by a third asari. Nadara’s eyes widened and she removed her helmet, the momentary shock from an unexpectedly familiar face providing sufficient buffer from the disturbing smells. At least, for the moment.
“By the Godess, is that Zelifa D’Veo? Whatever is a celebrity chef doing in such a rancid place as this?” While Nadara had never been acquainted with the galaxy renowned chef, she had obviously heard of her, and even had the occasion to sample some of the asari’s legendary dishes. They were divine, to say the least. Though, now that she really took in the sight of her, Nadara realized Zelifa had quite let herself go. Were those… stains? How unseemly for one of her stature.
“Yes, it is I…” Zelifa said nervously, partially moving her hand from her face. “This… facility… was certainly not my first choice of places to be.”
The asari choked back a soured lump in her throat, “Or… Goddess… even the last.”
“She was locked up. She said the Reds captured her and tried to make her partake in the goings on here.” Amina said.
“Ah, well that explains it then, though how they would have been able to capture you is another story entirely,” Nadara said, turning from Amina back to Zelifa. “Once you’ve had a chance to rest, we would love to hear more. Perhaps… over a well crafted meal, even?” Nadara’s tone was hopeful. It had been ages since she’d sampled the chef’s delicacies and it would be just the treat to end the sour note this entire mission had turned out to be.
“I… uhm… we shall see. Perhaps yes. Right now I just want a nice bathing, new clothes, and a safe place to stay. My appetite is somewhat… culled for the time.” Zelifa said pinching at her nose.
“You and me both, I assure you. And on that note…” Nadara placed her helmet back on.
With the job completed, the group split off to tie up any loose ends that remained. While he wasn’t in shape to help with hostages or move about much, Zenn offered to take a look at the van now that he could at least stand.
“I've scrapped and repaired literal space crafts in worse condition than this. A crashed van should be a piece of cake!” Zenn reasoned. He limped out of the lobby and to the damaged vehicle. He managed to pry the hood open and began to inspect the engine. By the time everyone else was done wrapping up their last tasks, he closed up the hood and rejoined the group. He walked over to the nearest piece of furniture and began using it as a towel for the grease that covered his hands.
“So. Bad news. The radiator is smashed. I could probably patch it, but I can't exactly replace the radiator fluid it lost. On top of that most of the spark plugs are shattered, the battery is cracked, and that’s just the damage I could see. If I crawled under it I might find more, but I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing I can do.
Good news, air filters were still clean. So they won't have to worry about changing those…"
"Whew, close one, wasn't it?" Zenobia said with unsettling calmness to Weisman, coming up behind him. "Good thing you're useful, and it's lucky he wants to get to you first."
She lowered herself so her breath could almost tickle his ear. "Cute operation you had here. Reminds me of the ones back home. Seeing this practice alive and well, all happening because of people like you, well...that just gives me so many ideas. Maybe me and my friend will share some notes."
Zenobia reached around and patted Weisman on the cheek, leaving a faint bloody handprint and nothing else. Her fingertips singed with biotic energy as she fought every urge she had not to claw her hand and dig in until the screaming stopped.
"Don't be a stranger," she said with forced sweetness, striding to the van without a glance back. "Dragon's teeth are taken care of, now where's our ride out of here?"
"Wraith's got that covered." Lizbeth answered. "Hope you like seeing Captain Riley again."
The turian’s head dipped as he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank the Spirits.”
Standing back up, he offered his hand to help Sev up. “We still have to save the quarian!” He yelled, using his free hand to do his best impression of a quarian’s mask, hoping to make the girl smile.
And she did smile at Kysar's almost comedic impression. Sevipia accepted his hand, and proceeded toward Zenn.
Zenn kept his hand pressed tight against his wound attempting to prevent any more bleeding. Any minute now Sev would round the corner, tell him the plan worked, then patch him up. At least that’s what he was trying to tell himself before he heard the rockets explode in the lobby. Panic started to set in as he began to wonder if he may have given Sev bad intel and gotten the turian killed. He did his best to hold the grim thoughts at bay, a task that grew harder with every passing second, until he was finally put at ease by the sight of Sev and Kysar emerging from the lobby. Sev quickly applied Medi-Gel and properly dressed the wound. Time would tell if they were fast enough to prevent any infection, but at least whatever had started would become any worse.
Kysar paced back and forth as Sev looked over the quarian. Banes had fled the scene, as well as several members of Reds being let go by his comrades. Something clawed at him from deep inside the pit of his stomach, gnawing and biting, the Turian couldn't stand still.
His quest for vengeance had fallen short. Too many would live to see another day without righteous retribution and with the governments of those left in disarray, who knows what they'd get up to. He paused as Zenn left, massaging his temples with a single hand. A King Kong sized headache wasn't helping, his skull was being drummed upon from the inside out. It was all but impossible to think straight.
"I just don't get it!" He growled to no one in particular, "Why did we have to let so many go?" The Turian's eyes narrowed as he caught Weisman in his peripherals.
"I made a promise."
Marching over, Kysar brandished his rifle. Who knew how many shots it would take to penetrate the gang bosses armour but the Turian had nothing but rounds and time.
"What are you doing?" Sev called out. "Venator?"
The turian strode on without missing a single beat as the pitter patter of lighter feet caught up to him. Grabbing him on the arm, the medic asked him again, "What do you think you're doing?"
Her voice was stone, an unyielding tone that demanded an answer. "I made a promise, Godmother!" Kysar replied.
"So what? Do you think you're the only one who lost someone today? They were my team too Kysar, and Solveig's. It doesn't give you the right to just do as you please."
Venator shrugged off the other turian's hand and took another step towards Weisman.
"If you really want to do them a service, then that man, for all his evils, is the only way we all find out the truth." Sev's voice softened as Kysar raised his rifle. "Please."
"Gah fuck's sake!" Lowering the gun, Venator swivelled on his heels, storming off in the opposite direction.
"Where are you off to now?" Sev asked.
"To make sure everyone makes it home."
As Solveig walked with the hostage from the freezer, she glanced down at Weisman, and then at the back of Kysar. She hesitated as she and the hostage came closer, her hand twitched nervously as she felt the urge to address him. With her eyes to the floor, she spoke loud enough for him to hear. "Hard to kill people... Harder to not kill monsters, but... the right thing." Her nervous glance trailed upwards but she broke it before she met his eyes, motioning for the hostage to sit with the others while she took a more hurried pace to Katya.
Kysar paused, tilting his head towards the N7 operative. The two hadn't really spoken since either of them had rejoined SRN. Was he angry with her? Did he blame her for leaving? Would her being there had even made a difference or would she be another victim the turian was about to prep for evac?
Too many thoughts and questions, this whole thing had been too much. As she scurried off Kysar took a deep breath in. He wanted to say something, thank her for her help, tell her to look after Katya. Something, anything. The turian exhaled, his mouth grimacing as Solveig disappeared. He nodded in solace with her statement, even if she didn't know it, and continued on.
Amina walked into the lobby, her Vindicator hanging loose in her right hand and a disgusted look etched over her face. I had him! she cursed to herself. All she could do now was hope that Outcast could catch him in the jeep.
If they don’t ride off together wherever they were going…
Amina still did not trust Outcast in full. Sure, they had helped them get here and sure they had been a part of the attack. But what had they really done? Amina hadn’t watched the mysterious figure like a hawk obviously, and she wondered just what all was at play on Outcasts side of the table tonight.
Am I just overthinking this? What if my suspicions are sorely misplaced? I need to talk to Lizbeth about this Outcast. Later. Right now I’m just too fried.
Amina looked around the room. Everyone looked bushed and the Lobby was a scorched mess from the shooting and explosions. Zenn despite the hit earlier seemed to be fine. The other Turian, Kysar, looked like he wanted to pummel down a wall with his bare fists. Amina looked down at the defeated Weisman, her eyes drifting to the Geth weapon nearby. With a shrug to herself as much as anyone else she shouldered her Vindicator and stepped forward, reaching down for the heavy weapon.
Amina had seen these near the end of the war, the Geth assisting in the battle for Earth had deployed them against Reaper ground forces. She remembered they packed a bell of a punch too. No shame in it since no one else seems to want it.
“I’ll go check around.” Amina announced, heading back through the door she came in - brandishing her new toy.
As soon as Nadara applied the medi-gel Zenobia offered, she felt relief from the gunshot wound to her shoulder. It was enough for the pain to subside for the moment, but if she wanted to regain full use of her right arm, she would need to be seen by proper medics.
Sevipia was busy enough tending to Zenn and the other hostages that had yet to awaken from the comas the Reds had surely induced. And for what purpose? She thought to herself, holding back a shudder as she released the asari hostage from her bonds and carried her over to where others had laid the other unresponsive hostages. What animals, the human gang had been. From how Amina had described the slaughtering room she’d emerged in, the Reds demonstrated not an ounce of mercy on their victims. What’s worse, they’d revived Reaper methods and equipment. Having participated at the very top of society for numerous species—come to think of it, it was highly unlikely the Vorcha even had an upper class, much less any class at all…—and from her stint in the asari military, Nadara was accustomed to rubbing elbows with nefarious types, but she wasn’t certain she’d encountered such blatant disregard for life before now, discounting the Reapers, of course.
Her gaze fell on Weisman, the Red’s “boss” and her eyes narrowed. She had a hunch the fellow that was able to escape—Banes was it?—had been the true puppeteer, but Weisman deserved as much retribution as was possible to give for his role in leading these degenerates. While Nadara didn’t understand the weight Kysar, Solveig, or Sevipia felt from losing their team to the man, she did understand justice. If he didn’t present such a precious opportunity to obtain information about everything that had transpired, Nadara might have argued in favor of Kysar getting his revenge on the man. Sevipia’s medical ethics be damned.
As it was, the medic was able to calm him down, and Solveig’s words had their own effect. The air in the room was heavy, and not just because the stench from unknown numbers of decaying bodies still lingered. Goddess, when was the last time she’d showered? Thankfully, her helmet filtered the majority of the stench.
Amina came to a doorway, weapon raised. The door was locked, Amina carefully reaching out to switch the lock off and slide the door open. The door shrieked metallically as it opened making her hair stand on end. Amina took three steps inside when she heard a crashing to her left. She turned sharply, Geth weapon raised and was met by a surprised cry.
“Ack! Please, don’t shoot!”
Standing in the corner of the room was an asari wearing a white dress uniform caked in dust and dirt. The asari was plastered back against the wall, arms raised defensively and a terrified look on her face. Amina lowered her weapon to her hip but said nothing, keeping her eyes on the asari.
“Who are you?” the asari asked shakily, “You don’t look like any of those thugs I have seen. I… heard all the shooting… the explosions…”
“My squad and I cleared the Reds out. We’re securing the facility now while we figure out what to do next.” Amina said roughly.
“Who are you with? The Alliance? Are you mercenaries?” the asari asked, deeming it safe to lower her hands even as she remained against the wall.
“Who are you?” Amina countered, eyes steely.
“Me? Well… I’m Zelifa D’Veo, renowned chef and owner of D’Veo’s Finer Culinary School on Thessia.”
Amina was taken aback. “What’s an asari chef doing on Earth and at a time like this?” she asked, one eyebrow arched sharply.
“Well,” Zelifa said, “I was here on Earth before the war broke out scouting to hopefully open a new school on the human homeworld. Needless to say when the Reaper things attacked I was… stranded here.”
“How did you end up with the Reds?” Amina inquired suspiciously.
“It wasn’t my wish, they did have me locked in this room for a reason after all. To make a long story short let us just say I was captured by them after the Reapers were wiped out and they wanted me to be a part of this… this slaughterhouse operation of theirs. It’s been… a terrible experience. Honestly I think they were just a hair away from killing me.”
Amina nodded slowly, eyes downcast.
“Can you get me out of here?” Zelifa asked, striding forward arms out. “I… really want to leave and I assume since you and this squad of yours killed all these thugs you are safer company than they are.”
“Bold assumption.”
Zelifa shrugged almost defeated.
Amina sighed, “Come on.”
As others shuffled off to perform various functions, Nadara decided she should investigate as well, and stumbled into a room of shipping crates of what appeared to be salarian organs. Sitting on a nearby table was a datapad along with a shipping manifest. From a quick overview, Nadara discovered the Reds had been luring salarians to Havana on the extranet, advertising an all inclusive travel package that even she would have been interested in, though the marketing and branding could be polished. As it was, they were able to abduct over a dozen salarians alone through this scam. The datapad held a number of messages between Weisman and Banes, revealing that it had been the latter who’d introduced the opportunity to sequester the salarian organs for sale to the Blood pack, further confirming Nadara’s earlier suspicions on Banes being the ultimate mastermind.
Weisman:The blood pack? Wouldn’t anyone else be interested?Banes:Best prices.Weisman:Too good to pass up. Suppose I can accept these terms.They won't be coming after us with allied sanctions.Banes:I’ll finalize the deal, prepare the shipments.Weisman:Aight. We still have the alliance to worry about…
Nadara continued scrolling through the files on the datapad until she reached a request form from a Blood Pack member specifying the salarian livers were “best served raw, as fear adds spice”, along with a response from the Reds, confirming the victims were kept conscious while being disemboweled. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably, and Nadara quickly shut off the datapad and placed it face down on the table. That was more than enough information.
A final look at the crates before she regrouped with the others to notify them of her find revealed one final piece of this monstrous puzzle. A sticky note on one of the crates revealed that at least one shipment was marked for experiments on “vorcha longevity”, whatever that meant. Nadara didn’t want to know the methods.
"...the hell?"
Zenobia had been busy setting up the stolen explosives to deal with the last of the dragon's teeth, and her traipsing through the facility to find the required combustibles (and perhaps find a hidden enemy to fight) had brought her to the room with the shipping crates. The smell was too familiar to make her stomach turn, though not for lack of trying. Her hand ran over the shipping containers one by one, until she spotted the datapad lying face down on the table. She hesitated, before turning it over and daring to read the contents.
She spent so long inside that her teammates were probably concerned that she hadn't rejoined them yet. Bracing herself on the table as the words spun in her head, drawing ragged, shuddering breaths that turned into a dark chuckle. She rapped her knuckles on the tablet, before slamming her fist down hard, shattering it on the table. She ran her hand across her brow, unintentionally smearing it with blood from her hand as she strode out of the base, the corners of her mouth twitching as unpleasant childhood memories rushed through her head. Emerging from the building without her usual bombast, she spotted the encounter with their hostage as Kysar was talked down.
Were she perhaps the same teenager that found herself subject to the Blood Packs and their accomplices back on Omega, things would have gone differently for the instigator of this little operation. Maybe she'd have that chance with the boss, but for now...well, she wasn't going to be any nicer to their captive then the other turian was.
“I found someone.”
Amina and the asari chef entered the lobby, Zelifa standing uncomfortably close to Amina’s side.
“Oh, my…” Zelifa‘s right hand clapped over her mouth as she surveyed the armed group and the scattered bodies before her.
As Nadara approached the lobby, Amina entered from the opposite end accompanied by a third asari. Nadara’s eyes widened and she removed her helmet, the momentary shock from an unexpectedly familiar face providing sufficient buffer from the disturbing smells. At least, for the moment.
“By the Godess, is that Zelifa D’Veo? Whatever is a celebrity chef doing in such a rancid place as this?” While Nadara had never been acquainted with the galaxy renowned chef, she had obviously heard of her, and even had the occasion to sample some of the asari’s legendary dishes. They were divine, to say the least. Though, now that she really took in the sight of her, Nadara realized Zelifa had quite let herself go. Were those… stains? How unseemly for one of her stature.
“Yes, it is I…” Zelifa said nervously, partially moving her hand from her face. “This… facility… was certainly not my first choice of places to be.”
The asari choked back a soured lump in her throat, “Or… Goddess… even the last.”
“She was locked up. She said the Reds captured her and tried to make her partake in the goings on here.” Amina said.
“Ah, well that explains it then, though how they would have been able to capture you is another story entirely,” Nadara said, turning from Amina back to Zelifa. “Once you’ve had a chance to rest, we would love to hear more. Perhaps… over a well crafted meal, even?” Nadara’s tone was hopeful. It had been ages since she’d sampled the chef’s delicacies and it would be just the treat to end the sour note this entire mission had turned out to be.
“I… uhm… we shall see. Perhaps yes. Right now I just want a nice bathing, new clothes, and a safe place to stay. My appetite is somewhat… culled for the time.” Zelifa said pinching at her nose.
“You and me both, I assure you. And on that note…” Nadara placed her helmet back on.
With the job completed, the group split off to tie up any loose ends that remained. While he wasn’t in shape to help with hostages or move about much, Zenn offered to take a look at the van now that he could at least stand.
“I've scrapped and repaired literal space crafts in worse condition than this. A crashed van should be a piece of cake!” Zenn reasoned. He limped out of the lobby and to the damaged vehicle. He managed to pry the hood open and began to inspect the engine. By the time everyone else was done wrapping up their last tasks, he closed up the hood and rejoined the group. He walked over to the nearest piece of furniture and began using it as a towel for the grease that covered his hands.
“So. Bad news. The radiator is smashed. I could probably patch it, but I can't exactly replace the radiator fluid it lost. On top of that most of the spark plugs are shattered, the battery is cracked, and that’s just the damage I could see. If I crawled under it I might find more, but I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing I can do.
Good news, air filters were still clean. So they won't have to worry about changing those…"
"Whew, close one, wasn't it?" Zenobia said with unsettling calmness to Weisman, coming up behind him. "Good thing you're useful, and it's lucky he wants to get to you first."
She lowered herself so her breath could almost tickle his ear. "Cute operation you had here. Reminds me of the ones back home. Seeing this practice alive and well, all happening because of people like you, well...that just gives me so many ideas. Maybe me and my friend will share some notes."
Zenobia reached around and patted Weisman on the cheek, leaving a faint bloody handprint and nothing else. Her fingertips singed with biotic energy as she fought every urge she had not to claw her hand and dig in until the screaming stopped.
"Don't be a stranger," she said with forced sweetness, striding to the van without a glance back. "Dragon's teeth are taken care of, now where's our ride out of here?"
"Wraith's got that covered." Lizbeth answered. "Hope you like seeing Captain Riley again."
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