[Citadel - Wards] Fresh Blood, Old Friends

It was the silence that made him uneasy, sitting there with nothing but the precious few memories he had. The couch gave no comfort, the wall offered no bastion, the food afforded him little satisfaction. Ethan Blank stared at the table in front of him. A pistol sat there, cleaned by anxious hands and an nervous mind.

"What if I had brought you along," he thought to himself, "maybe I could have done better."

On the table was an M5-Phalanx, as new as the day it was made. He stared at the letters "EB" carefully etched onto the side. He rubbed the faint scar on his right ribs, wishing he had worn his ballistic vest that day. He sat there, waiting, for time to pass, for the routine to begin again, waiting. Ethan took a deep breath and leaned back. As he stared up at the ceiling, he began to go back, back to just a few days ago, to the dancing lights and rhythmic beats of the Silver Star.

Ethan stood up near the balcony, in his little corner as usual, to his left were a several tables clustered together on the raised section. From here he had a few extra feet of height to see the entire bar and observe patrons as they entered right below him. He scanned the room, the entryway to his right was empty, the lounge area across the room had a few turians and even a quarian on the couches. The dance floor had few dozen people shuffling, shaking, stepping in an attempt to follow the music the asari DJ was playing from high up in her corner. The bar seemed to be doing well, a few people waiting on drinks. To his left, a several species sat together laughing the night away.

Just as Ethan turned back to face the main dance floor he saw a hooded man run into the room, he steps were panicked as he turned around and searched frantically. Curious, and a little concerned, Ethan took a few steps to his left to get a better look. The man rushed off to the restrooms between the bar and the DJ. Just a moment later, a 2 human, a turian, and a drell walked in as a group. These people were dangerous, Ethan could see that they were a hit squad on hunt. One of the humans turned a said something and they all pulled out small pistols. Ethan's heart pounded, his mind went into a brief frenzy of activity. He took a step back and withdrew his baton, neglecting to turn on the electricity, not even thinking about what he was going to do.

He jumped on the railing and launched himself screaming at the nearest person of the group, a human male with rough, uneven raven hair looking towards the bar. Ethan flew towards him, his feet behind him as he sailed through the air. He focused his biotics into his arm and his club, adding crushing power. The black haired man turned his head as Ethan flew at him, but it was to not enough. Ethan struck him in the neck with a biotically charged blow. Ethan felt the bones crack under his weight, but was set completely off balance by the strike. He landed hard on his left elbow, the pain shooting up in his arm.

The remaining three gunman just stood there, dumbstruck by the surprise attack. Ethan stared back trying to gain his bearings, as he laid on the floor in pain. People turned and looked in confusion. The hit men looked at each other then aimed their weapons. Ethan, still laying on the ground, brought his arms up to his face and focused his all of his biotics into keeping himself alive. With the first round fired, a shockwave of panic exploded across the room. Ethan curled himself up as shots ricocheted off of the glowing energy that surrounded him. After firing several rounds, the leader ordered a hasty retreat. As they left, Ethan tried to stand, shaking with exhaustion. One of them turned around fired a quick shot. The bullet zip through the air, sideswiping his side. He clutched his wound and KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The sudden noise snapped Ethan out of his trance. Puzzled, he looked at the door as knocking picked up again. With a deep sigh, Ethan walked to the door, he peered through the view screen to see a slender looking drell standing at his door. He pressed the speaker button and said

" Is there good reason you are knocking on my door, drell?"

"Ethan Blank," the voice was deep as the drell peeled away his hood and stared at the camera, is inner-lids closed making his eyes inscrutable. The man was still young, but nicks and scars on his face made it clear that young didn't mean the same as inexperienced.

Shank, a nom-de-guerre that had, over time, become his name, held his poker face. The slender drell, didn't wait on Ethan to answer. "You don't need to answer Mr. Blank, I know who you are. You might not know it yet, but you and I share a common problem. Can I come in?"

Ethan knew why he was here, that hood was all too familiar. This drell's "problem" was spilling into his life, and Ethan was about to find out why. He knew he had to be some sort of criminal, if he was so desperate to track down a bouncer instead of the C-SEC for protection. But Ethan was in a tough spot and this guy was the first and possibly last chance at finding the closure.

"Alright, you can come in, but don't touch anything got it?"

The drell gave a slight nod.

Ethan ushered him in and went to the table to tuck the pistol away.

"You and I both know that the little fiasco at the club was because of your sorry ass. I want to hear how you plan on making this all better, and give me the long version, because I have the time."

"I don't deal with stories, but I tell you what you need to know." The drell was steered towards the living area, he kept his eyes open for possible escape routes, or maybe he was just casing the place, regardless he sat down as if he owned the room. He noticed the gun being squirreled away.

"Those guys at the Silver Star Club? They're what remains of the Stingers, small-time-gang, turned up-and-comers, turned corpses of Axona, a mining colony deep inside the terminus. They're pissed at me 'cause I stabbed them in the back and took their money. I sold them out to the police and Corp Security, and I hoped stingers would be wiped out... guess the cops didn't do their job right, and the remnant somehow found out about me, and found where I was hiding."

He took a small cigarette case out of one of his side pockets and lit one up. "Now, I'm betting you're wondering, how exactly this is your problem, they won't take kindly to what you did to those guys, especially that bionic stunt. Maybe they figure that they should make an example of you, or just try and pump you for information, no telling what, not without knowing who's calling the shots. Ain't Mindi though, she either got killed by the cops or by the gang, and besides she wouldn't be so crazy to go open warfare on the Citadel."

There is a moment of a flash regret or pain as he mentions Mindi's name, but it goes as fast as it came.

"My plan is to get some allies, like yourself. Than find out where they're hiding, Sick C-Sec on them and clean-up any remaining stragglers. This is a big place, and I bet stuff gets dropped in those protein vats, shoved out of an airlock, or just forgotten in a corner all the time." He shrugged.

"Well... Fuck it," Ethan gives a weary shrug "I'm getting tired of watching rerun's anyways, but three things before we go.

First, don't smoke in here, I hate the smell." Ethan walks over and pinches the burning end of the cigarette with his fingers.

"Secondly," Ethan says as he turns around and walks back across the room. He barely takes two steps before the clicks of a lighter sound off behind him.

With a deep breath, Ethan says "I am going to grab a few things, ballistic vest, my pistol, and my favorite beating stick. Sounds like they will come in handy." Ethan ducks into his bedroom and returns with the vest and a brown leather coat.

"Finally, I hope you have a more to your plan than just "find them," do you know where to even start looking?" Ethan says as he slips the jacket over the vest.

Shank puts his extinguished cigarette away, waste not, want not… also DNA evidence.

"Duct rats, Tayseri duct rats to be exact, that's the place you want to set-up shop if you want to stay hidden. They're like the Shadow Broker except they don't ask for favors in return, and I hope you got a license for that pistol."

The drell stood up when Ethan stepped out of the bedroom "I'm not going to get busted because you're going around unlicensed. Besides haven't you mind powers and all that."

"Don't worry about the gun, C-Sec knows I have it. The main reason I'm bringing it however, is that everybody knows what a gun is, and why they should be afraid of it, biotics on the other hand, not as well understood.

Anyways, the duct rats? Wasn't there a big charity event and social activism about those kids recently? Easy enough place to start if you ask me. I remember a name mandy, misha... what was it? ah Michelle, that's it!"

Ethan motions towards the door.

"Come on, let's go. We spent enough time in my place anyways."

"You want to drop out?"
Michelle Rondor was dismayed. The teenage turians in front of her twitched uncomfortably in his seat.
"Bakli", she continued, "your grades are excellent. You have a real shot at getting the xenobiology grant. Don't ruin that."

"I'm sorry miss Whiskers", he answered. Michelle rolled her eyes like every time a kid called her that. Snow had coined that a while back and it stuck. The nickname was inspired by her black hipster glasses and excessive body weight, both anachronistic in this day and age, that supposedly gave her the appearance of a fluffy house cat.
"You gotta understand, the others are getting roughed up out there by those new assholes. They're looking for somethin' and as long as they dun' find it I don't feel safe anymore ya know?"

"And giving up your studies will arrange that?", she asked him while pouring him some dextro tea.

"Nah... But some people will... If I work for them."

Her eyes widened.

"You mean like the gangs? Don't go to those weasels!"

"Well I'm sorry! But C-Sec doesn't give a fuck, the shelters are not safe, that red hood of yours got shived by the LTE... That bird guy you have now can't be everywhere. The Co-op cares for its own at least."

She sipped her own tea in silence. Frustration was boiling in her. After the huge success that was the charity dinner everything was supposed to pick up. Instead Snow had been almost killed, new gangers were attacking duct rats for information, and Leaving The Ducts was losing whatever goodwill and trust it had gathered with the kids fast.

"Listen", she finally said, "I asked a C-Sec friend, Officer Cavallius, who agreed to patrol the local catholic shelter, so it's safe enough for now. He's also agreed to escort kids there to school each morning."
On his own time, she thought. C-Sec really didn't prioritize the duct rats' safety...

"I know it's a temporary solution but we'll work on finding out who those guys are in the meanwhile ok? Please don't throw everything away yet."

Bakli looked unconvinced, but nodded. The kid was scared, and Michelle didn't blame him.

"Sure ma'am... I'll give that a shot." He finished his teas, mechanically pocketed some cookies as most street kids did, and left after saying goodbye.

Third kid this week...

Michelle Rondor was considering her options when a new one presented itself : Someone rang the Leaving The Ducts bell.

She looked at the monitor. A human and a drell. Kinda shady looking.

"Can I help you?"

Ethan clears his throat and approaches the intercom.

"Hello, my name is Ethan, and this is Shank, and I came here looking for help. Your Michelle right?"
Michelle gives a nod in response.
"Do you remember the shootout that happened in the Silver Star Club? Well, I am a bouncer at that club and I am looking for leads on the organization behind the incident. My associate here has a personal reason to see this group put away.

So, that leaves us the question, have you seen any unusual gang a recently? Anything that seems like a stupidly aggressive gang is a good place to start."

Ethan looks over at Shank, "Unless you have anything to add to that."

"Only that they probably think they're a big deal, and that they're actually quiet small." He looked at the building, "Nice place you," it wasn't clear if he was being sarcastic or not, "do you pay protection money, if you do maybe they'll know who's pissing on their turf and we can find ourselves another ally."

A single week, after the beating Snow took at the hands of Durix he had hoped to get a few more days to track the bastard down and return the favor, but Miss Whiskers had sent him a message. Strolling down the boulevard, Snow hid the slight hitch in his step as he mentally went over the facts, a new faction of scumbags, possibly from Omega searching for something or someone, and the LTE and Co-op hadn't responded yet. "Strange, why isn't the Ice Bitch moving on it", the red hood thinking as he pulled his hood up on his red jacket, hearing scattered whispers here and there from passers by. The attention reminding him that despite his mauling at the hands of the Beast of Armiger, he was still alive despite his own expectations and Durix's efforts. Glaring at the bystanders, Snow punched in the keycode to the apt, heading into Leaving the Ducts with two weeks left to serve until he was free and clear.

Walking in, he saw a human and drell talking with Miss Rondor, the human looking like a tough, grizzled fuck, and the scarfaced drell, well, in Snow's mind he wasn't Kayana Pesh so that was a good thing. Hearing the drell mention protection money, Snow let out a sharp laugh before interjecting, his grey eyes boring into the drell as he lowered his hood, his face a typical 21 year old human's as long as eye contact wasn't made.

"You do realise that this is a charity for duct rats on the Citadel???? If we paid the gangs for the privilege of existing on Lower Tayseri, we'd be neck deep in other gangs looking for a slice, not to mention C-Sec getting in our shit and losing charitable status. As to the major players on this level of the ward and ones above and below, the street level crews are the Lower Tayseri Elite, a group near the foundations who run slant, sand and whores, and the New Dillinaga Co-op, a syndicate in the making who deals in credit laundering, grey market salvage, info running and illicit gaming. Question is boss," the red hood turning to Miss Rondor, "Why haven't Zahir or Alystae joined in, if duct rats are being slapped around, the two bosses wouldn't let that shit stand."

Michelle was preparing tea for their guests while Snow was talking.

She was coming back with mugs for everyone when Snow asked his question.

"Well there can be several reasons to that. Maybe those sinister individuals paid the local gangs for the right to operate. Maybe the local gangs figure the interlopers won't stay long and thus don't bother tracking them down. Or maybe they think that the local duct rats need to be reminded on why exactly they should go to gangs instead of us for protection...", she added with a grim expression.
"Most likely a bit of all of the above. In any case I don't think we can count on gangers to help us in this situation..."

She turned to the drell.

"Could you please elaborate on what you know about that group? Their number, their weaponry? What they are looking for maybe?"

"Thanks for the info, but you can tuck it away now, tough guy, we're not holding a contest." Shank said without even looking towards Snow.

"well ma'am, we're talking about ten to fifteen individuals, batarian, and turian most likely, although maybe they picked up a few humans along the way. Weapons mostly pistols whatever cheap crap their omnitool can produce in pieces. So mostly 566-b Grimlocks with low-power retrofits, ineffective on shielded targets, even basic Kevlar can stop it, it can still leave a big hole on soft tissue or even carapace. Maybe they found a dealer selling them better stuff. Wouldn't be surprised some of the managed to score a Kesler or some such, still pretty low-powered."

"As for who they are and what they want. The remnant of a terminus gang that want me 'cause I'm the reason they're only the leftovers of a gang."

"So you're a fucking snitch who's on the run, great", the red hood interjecting, his body language relaxed, but if looks could kill, Miss Rondor would be coated with the blood and brain matter of the drell stoolie. Snow gave the drell a dismissive look before turning to the human, "So how in the hell did you get roped into this?"

"Do you remember the shootout in the night club recently? That was were I worked as a bouncer before his"Ethan points towards Shank "past fuck-ups shot up the place. Also, I was the reason that they failed at their little "clean up" attempt, so I figured I would do more than wait for them to try again."

"Ok..."
That reason looked a bit flimsy to Michelle, but she decided to roll with it for now. For all she knew the guy was an adrenaline addict.

"So obviously our best bet is to get the locations of these gentlemen and provide it in time to the proper authorities. And unlike the authorities we can get the kids to talk to us. I think our best bet is the Bazaar pack, what do you think Mr Snow? Junaar is certainly anxious to keep his people safe."

"Yeah, knowing them, they'll be at their third gathering point given the situation." The red hood nodding, losing the belligerent air upon the revelation of the same group of scum that was slapping duct rats around were the same idiots who shot up the Silver Star. "Thing is, Torr doesn't like strangers, and if word gets out about this...individual leading his former brothers to Tayseri", Snow giving Shank a disdainful glance, "the bigger crews might just kill him along with the new gang just for inconveniencing them."

Snow finished, leaning against the counter as he waited for the turncoat and his protector to make their decision.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about me," Shank waved snow's comment away, "Just give us a place and we'll do the rest. Unless one of your 'rats' happen to know where they are? That would make things even easier."

"Torr's smart, and he's made progress with his anger issues. I don't think he'd engage those guys. He would, however, keep tabs on them", she added, nodding to the drell.
"We can lead you there and ask them about that gang of yours. We can leave right now if you're up for it."

After that drell opened his mouth, Snow's anger reemerged. Not even listening to Miss Whiskers trying to talk up Torr's improved temper, the red hood walked over to Shank. Giving the insolent prick a hard smile, Snow's fist flew out, smashing the turncoat in the face, the charity worker stepping back afterwards. The ex-marine's face a death mask as his raspy tenor filled the room.

"Get something through your fuckin' skull, 'boy'. You came here for help, trying to clean up a mess that you created. Those four people dead, it's just as much your fault as theirs. Because you didn't have the sack to finish the job, and now thanks to your idiocy, your problem has become mine." Pausing for a breath, Snow regained control, but not before one last parting shot, I'll help you get rid of this, situation. But you had better lose the attitude, otherwise I'll cut off your head and send it to your ex-brothers myself."

Turning back to his boss, Snow gave her an semi-apologetic look before getting back to business, "Yeah, my suggestion is the clawball court as a starting point, best if I come along. I need the exercise, to be honest."