[Erszbat, Ertl County] Scorched Earth (Closed)

What, want me to go chat with them? I'm sure they would be willing to work with you then.

"Hell no. Soon as you leave, their goons pay me a visit, and I conveniently disappear. I'll just keep bothering them over official channels. They'll cave if I flood their extranet inboxes." Mekan gave off the impression he'd already done that, just with the way he said it.

After hovering at a decent clip through the streets of the town, old or damaged buildings (many undergoing demolition or repair) on either side the whole way, and with a lot of batarian pedestrians crossing the streets below, the car came to a stop at an old apartment building, parking in a space outside. Mekan opened the doors and slid out, before activating his omnitool interface and heading for one of the apartments on the ground floor, Apartment 19. "My place. Come on in, I'll grab you two some drinks and I can show you what's got me interested in that OSD. I figure you're both curious."

"Certainly."

A very crooked smile appeared, Oh, what will the neighbors think. And of course I'm curious. Lyra followed, ghostlike as ever.

"Bet the old lady next door will stop bringing me those pies she makes. 'Oh, he was such a nice young man, helping me with my garbage and fixing my terminal up, but humans, oh no.' I'll be lucky if I'm not run outta town by the end of the week." Mekan grunted in annoyance at the thought as he punched in the password for his apartment lock and waited for the door to slide open. As it did, he headed in and turned on the lights, revealing a clean and well-kept living room.

On the left side of the room was an absolutely massive extranet terminal (more of a column of computers) and a large holographic monitor in a work desk. It turned on as Mekan walked in, immediately opening several pages and extranet tabs which showed several extranet news pages (including the front page of Cerberus Daily News). Right next to the computer desk was a workbench with what looked like a soldering iron and several other tools, likely used in computer maintenance. Across the room, against a wall sat a large, comfy couch and what could be described as a coffee table, and several chairs arranged around a small dining table in the corner to the couch's left.

To the couch's right, a hallway greeted the visitors. It appeared to have the kitchen in a doorway on one side a short distance down the hall, and Mekan's bedroom directly opposite the kitchen. All throughout the apartment, a soft and tasteful brown carpet greeted the eyes, whether they be in groups of two or four. A small locker to the right of the apartment's front door hung open, revealing a set of military combat armor and several weapons, including a grenade launcher and a Scimitar shotgun. Palmer would recognize the armor as the suit she gave Mekan prior to the mission aboard the Pequod, over a year ago.

A male-sounding electronic voice, specifically a VI, spoke as Mekan walked in, emanating from the extranet terminal. "Welcome back, Mekan."

"Open file Investigation Slash One-Nineteen. Palmer, could you get the door?" Mekan didn't even pause to look either at the terminal or behind him as he headed for the kitchen, as the VI would respond to his voice command with no problems and he was sure Palmer would get the door just fine on her own. It wasn't exactly an enemy combatant or anything.

In an alternative universe that door actively tried to kill her and was destroyed into little itty bitty pieces as it deserved. However, in this universe it did that function it was made for and closed as it should. She sniffed the air and then moved, her feet taking her towards the armor. A second later and she was running an omnitool over it for a quick examination, loosely whistling a krogan war song.

Sonya stepped inside quietly, glancing around the room for a few moments before staring at the main computer.

I'll give him this, he's got a nice system.

"So...?"

"What all d'ya ladies want? I got...batarian ale...batarian ale...batarian ale...whiskey, and batarian ale." He had picked up a taste for whiskey a while back, but Mekan never really drank it that often. More than anything, it was a curiosity he occasionally had a taste of. It wasn't especially easy to get on Erszbat either. He quietly hoped that neither of his guests requested the whiskey.

"Accessing files." The extranet terminal, meanwhile, begins to pull up the files Mekan requested. The screen began to display a few technical readouts, namely the components used in several terminals housed in an old Batarian StateSec facility, and a number of pictures, all of batarian males, most of them in their late thirties and early forties, all appeared on the terminal's user interface. A text-file opened as well - a short list of Batarian StateSec facilities and their addresses.

Whatever Mekan had been up to over the last year, it looked a lot like espionage of some kind. Or at least salvaging old documents that had something to do with espionage.

"Just water."

No drinks right now. Maybe later. She was poking at the armor now.

The armor seemed to be in prime condition, despite the attack on the Citadel a year ago, when it last saw real use. Mekan had been taking good care of it.

"Boring as fuck, but alright." Mekan's commentary ended there as he brought back a glass of water, and a slightly larger glass of batarian ale for himself, heading over to take a seat in his desk's chair. The terminal finished pulling up another tech-readout, this one an in-depth analysis of an OSD - specifically, the same model that Mekan had gotten his hands on that very morning. "Alright. Now, this mystery OSD? The one I called you guys in to crack? Contains Batarian StateSec personnel files. I want them because I think that the OSD might have dossiers on a few guys I'm tracking down." The hacker reached for the screen, pulling one of the pics of one of the older batarian males up over the rest of the files. One large scar ran down his neck, and both of his lower eyes appeared to be cybernetic. This guy had been involved in something nasty, to say the least.

"I want to find this guy in particular. Nazeek Sam'Kransh. I got the picture from someone who claimed to have information on Deep State agents operating on Erszbat. No detailed info. I thought it was complete crap at first. I've only been able to get information on one of his aliases, and some prefabricated history. Turned out to almost be a dead end, but I took the pic and showed it discreetly around the extranet, on batarian social networking sites. Got a private message from a guy who says he actually knew him, said he probably died in the war. Sam'Kransh apparently worked for StateSec right up until the Reapers hit, and then disappeared. If he's still alive, he's operating under an alias. If he's ex-StateSec and still alive, I want to find him. He might be able to lead me to the rest of the Deep State."

Sonya stared at the picture for a couple of seconds, thinking back to the mission briefing. Good. Not our client.

"And the others you're hoping to find?"

What, you think the Deep State actually exists?

Palmer's only reward for that question was a pointed look. Mekan kept his mouth shut, but the message was clearly a resounding 'yes.'

Turning back to the screen, he reaches out and enlarged three of the batarians' other pictures. One was clearly a businessman, with one of the others wearing simple street clothes, and the last one wearing an auto-shop jumpsuit. All three pictures were clearly taken at an extreme distance; these men were being observed without their consent, and there was every possibility the pictures were taken by Mekan. "A possible ally. And two possible Deep State agents. The guy in the business suit is a guy here on Erszbat. Mayor of a big town out in the middle of Karval County, just across the county line. Name of Kacil Marak. He's the leader of the Karval County Unionist Party, and one of the big-timers set to take over the Karval County government during its next election. If nothing happens to him, that is. I think the Deep State might be putting him in their crosshairs, but I know next to nothing. Other men with a similar agenda have ended up dead or missing in the past, so I'm keeping an eye on him to see what happens."

Pulling up the other two pictures of the batarians in simple clothing, Mekan pointed at the one on the right, with a tattoo on his left arm depicting a letter of the Batarian Standard alphabet. "This guy works at a local skycar repair shop across town. Karik. No known last name, rumor is he's an ex-slave. Of course, I've got word from certain channels that he might be actually be ex-StateSec. If there's anything in that OSD on him or his aliases, I can use it against him, maybe use him to get inside information on the Deep State." The hacker reached for the last picture, enlarging it. "No idea who this guy is, but he's been in near-constant contact with Karik. He comes to visit 'em at his workplace every day around his lunch break, so they know each-other."

The batarian hunched over, staring intently at all four pictures. The mystery man, Kacil Marak, Karik, and Nazeek Sam'Kransh, each with an eye fixed on them. "If this turns out to be another dead end, I'm out of leads, but I need to get the files on that OSD. If it has anything of value, it'll be extremely useful for my investigation. Might clear a few of these guys off my list of suspects."

When the batarian's back was turned, Sonya palmed a small tablet into the glass of water. It left dissolved in seconds, leaving the liquid inside looking exactly as it had before. At least something in this apartment is clean.

Returning her focus to the conversation, she added, "Well, I certainly hope the information we find is useful." She paused for a moment. "I'm a little fuzzy on the goings-on of the post-Hegemony Kite's Nest. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is this supposed 'Deep State,' aside from the obvious?"

Trying to prove the existence of the deep state huh. Palmer snorted as she examined the pictures, So where do we go from here?

Mekan raised a finger to give the ladies pause. "Alright...Gimme a sec. I'm trying to figure out how to put this." He promptly waited exactly three seconds before trying to answer. One might think he was dramatically pausing. "Alright. Got it. The Deep State is basically a conspiracy that runs the batarian government, or is trying to run the batarian government, or something. Politicians who suddenly don't vote with or for their party, people disappearing occasionally, sudden terrorist actions carried out by extremists trying to reinstate the old Hegemony, infighting between Confederate member states with little apparent cause behind it...that's the Deep State. Some of them want the old Hegemony back. Others just want the Confederacy to fall apart. There's tons of reasons or explanations, and tons of theories about how they operate, and it's all speculation. I want evidence it exists."

"Sounds like a Batarian Cerberus. Nasty business."

And then what? What happens if you find proof that it does exist?

"Well, then I'm probably assassinated as an enemy of the batarian people by the Barhak Brigade or some other movement." The hacker chuckled a little at his dark joke. "In all seriousness, I'm hoping to see if I can't break up a conspiracy that even I have to admit is purely hypothetical. If I can do it, I get my name in the history books. Or at least contribute to society in some meaningful way. These guys aren't on par with Cerberus. Yet. But there's no telling what the future holds, and I'd rather help knock 'em down, if they're out there." The batarian took a sip of his batarian ale and turned back to the computer readouts. "It was nice of you people to come out and deal with this for me. It's what I hope is the start of a decent working relationship."

That implied Mekan would be willing to call [Redacted] Security in for other jobs, assuming this one panned out. The batarian knew that the head of the company had a dislike of batarians, and he didn't particularly care for ex-Cerberus operatives. But, talent was talent and Mekan's position wasn't one that permitted him to be especially picky.

Of course, if he could start being picky, he'd probably drop the Cerbies in a heartbeat, though.