[Lorek] Chain Letters

The Crimson Chains compound on Lorek was something that could almost be described as ‘palatial’. Formerly the barracks of the Governor’s personal guard, the facility had been largely spared by the Reapers, as the inhabitants were almost all indoctrinated well before the invasion began. What damage had occurred had been during the brutal street-fighting, as a motley collection of slaves and militia strengthened by the remnants of the near-legendary Special Intervention Unit stood against the compromised government forces.

The government lost.

So it was that the unexpected heroes of the hour, the slavers and pirates wanted throughout Citadel space, had found themselves filling the dual roles of security and law enforcement among the ruins. For this they needed a headquarters, their own having been sacrificed to destroy the enemy flagship, and it only made sense for the closest thing to a military force on the planet to occupy the closest thing to a military facility left standing.

Deep within the multi-level compound, in a spacious office on the upper floor with what had once been an excellent view of the capital gardens, the leader of the Lorek Crimson Chains poured over the administrative paperwork that now occupied so much of his time. As it turned out, ‘going legitimate’ meant a lot more work, and Melek Ib-bar found himself longing for the intrigue and competition that had always kept the officers of the Crimson Chains on alert. Now, of course, those officers were scattered across the galaxy, each trying to establish their faction as the true successor to the pre-War Chains. There was still intrigue, but it moved more slowly and worked on a totally different scale than the almost playful plotting that had characterized the Omega stronghold.

It was therefore a great relief to Melek when he received a communique from a former associate, one of the so-called ‘Crimson Suns’, Chains who had elected to tie themselves to the Blue Suns rather than take sides in the inevitable civil war. It was inevitable, after all - it wasn’t in Melek’s nature to defer to someone he considered an inferior, and Alto Ord’Narak’s spinelessness had been matched only by that of Ashtor Sam’klar. For his part Alto viewed himself as the legitimate successor to Abad, and Ashtor seemed to think that leading the largest group of survivors made him a good candidate for leadership. Melek intended to prove them wrong, and they intended to kill him, and this was a relationship each and every one of them understood.

Pale, spidery fingers stretched out to tap the comm unit on the desk, and it was hard for the gaunt batarian to contain his excitement.

“Goronak! Something interesting has happened! You’ll want to see this!”

"Yeah? Be there in a bit, then." Was that gunfire in the background? It wouldn’t come as a surprise. Since they’d decided to focus on security, both private and public, Goronak had thrown himself into his role with gusto, despite the injuries he’d suffered in the battle of Jalnor. You didn’t need to be able to walk to fire a gun, after all, and the armsmaster, while technically Melek’s partner in this venture, seemed content to let him act as de facto leader with minimal interference. That had always been the case, even in the old Chains - Goronak was alone among the lieutenants in that he displayed no overriding ambition to dominate, being content to excel in those areas he considered his own. It made him a reliable ally, and he and Melek had proven a potent combination indeed.

Erg. Melek didn’t do surprises. It wasn’t his nature to be surprised, and he basically expected it of everyone else. So, to hear it in his voice... that was something. It wasn’t obvious, and you’d have to have known the guy for years to even get a sense of it, but Goronak could hear the undercurrents.

Whatever it was, it was good.

So, he finished his exercise, lovingly put away the rifle, and dragged himself up to that cushy office Melek the Magnificent liked so damn much. He could stay there, for all Goronak cared - paper pushing required unending amounts of being bored out of your fucking mind, and while he did the job if it came to it, give him a knife, a gun, whatever and a bunch of new kids to shape into soldiers instead. He liked being on his feet and doing his job, even if it meant having to limp around on crutches for now.

Or at least something to shoot at. That had been the good thing about Omega. Never a lack of excitement. Here, the only excitement came from the locals being uppity, or a job that got him a chance to leave the farm lands for awhile. And Melek being surprised. That definitely counted as something interesting, at least.

"You summoned me, oh Great One?" he growled. It was good to needle Melek a bit, and he had a sense of humor to match it. The others had needed a kick, usually.

The lean figure at the desk looked up with... was that joy? He was grinning, certainly, and looked almost as though he was about to leap out of his chair and wrap the older batarian in a hug. Oh shit. Oh...fuck. This was bad, then.

Thankfully, he did not hug anything and stayed right in that chair where he belonged.

“‘Oh Great One’? I like that. I think I might keep it, or something like it. We’d need to find you a correspondingly fitting title, though - here, I’ll be ‘Melek the Magnificent’ and you can be ‘The Great and Powerful Goronak’!”

"Right. I think I’ll stick with Grizzled Goronak and you can tell me that you’ve finally gone insane."

“Melek the Mad? Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, but it might be workable. I suppose we’ll just have to let the history books decide. Regardless! I did promise you something interesting, didn’t I? It would seem that Abad has resurfaced.”

….What.

"What."

That wasn’t possible. He was dead. Even he couldn’t survive a nuclear blast. "Yeah, okay, I’m going to go find someone to check your head, kid."

“Well it’s not him, obviously, but you remember Esarkhad Adar? Bithra Team leader, presently of the Crimson Suns? It’s an authentic enough imitation to have him worried. Turned up on some of the extranet sites Abad used to frequent, seems to know a bit about the organization. Just enough to get Collar sending out vaguely angry messages wondering if Abad could have survived.”

That was impossible. Or....highly unlikely. Extremely unlikely. But, Abad was a smart bastard, you didn’t get where he was - or had been, at least - without knowing how to get your ass out of places that should rightfully kill you. Goro finally sank down into his chair, running the aftermath in his head.

Eventually, he spoke, the low growl thoughtful. "It’s... not impossible."

When a batarian wanted to frown, it was an impressive sight indeed, all the moreso when that batarian was unnaturally pale and ghastly at the best of times. Frowning is exactly what Melek did.

“Of course it is. Abad died when the bunker exploded - we saw the explosion from the city, remember? Or I did, at least. You might have been wrestling a brute at the time. Regardless - we checked every shuttle, he wasn’t on any of them, and that explosion carved a new crater into the landscape. It’s full of water now, did you know? Quite irradiated, but in time it should turn into a half-decent fishing spot.”

Long fingers drummed against the desk rhythmically for just a moment as Melek considered the possibilities. It wasn’t Abad; he was sure of that, even if Goronak was some kind of true believer. That meant it was an imposter, but apparently a reasonably good one. It could be some kind of celebrity worship, perhaps, but it was an odd choice of celebrity - Abad was popular on Lorek and the Na’Hesit worlds, and loathed everywhere else. Most wouldn’t take the risk of impersonating him.

“Saw the bunker explode from how far away again?. Checked every shuttle. Just because we couldn’t find him...he’s not the type to only have one option in play. Backups for his backups.” Goro shook his head. "But let’s say its not. If this...imposter is as good as you say, well, can’t be too many people, right?"

Once again Melek drummed his fingers on the desktop, wishing he’d had a kalashak board installed as planned. He’d always had better luck plotting when he had one to stare at - something about the game brought out that side of him, which, he supposed, was exactly the point.

“It would have to be someone who knew him, or someone with access to people who knew him. If it were Abad, he would have turned up here first; we have the strongest core of Crimson Chains and SIU and we’re the most securely established, not to mention that this is where he ‘went missing’.”

That last was said with obvious sarcasm, up to and including a roll of the top eyes.

“So, we know it’s not Abad-” this with a pointed stare “-and it’s not one of us, or anyone we’ve sponsored. That doesn’t rule out the others.”

A few quick entries on the keypad in front of him and Melek pulled up a holographic screen displaying several posts on message boards frequented by their former employer, ostensibly from him. “Whoever it is obviously has a sense of humor. That means it’s not Alto doing the impersonation, at the very least. That said, unless the imposter slips up at some point, I’m not sure we’ll be able to determine much more than that.”

"Meanwhile, morale takes either a jump or a dive once the minions find out about it. Suns like Adar are gonna kill themselves with anxiety, and I’d rather not imagine what panic will make Joral and Ashtor do. And if Alto’s not behind it, then he’s at the very least giddy about this."

That drew a snicker from Melek.

“Alto would love nothing more than for this to be legitimate. He could hand everything off to Abad and go back to being his usual useless self. As for our Cartagenan friends... If they’re not behind it, they’ll be at least as worried as Collar. You’re right about morale; we need to head that off and make our position clear, ideally before this resurrection becomes public knowledge. We need to remind everybody that Abad is dead, and we need to make it clear that we know it for a fact.”

"Okay. But unless we weed out the imposter, people will start wondering if that’s really true, now that the doubt’s been cast on that. I can already think of a dozen ways he could have not been in that bunker or anywhere near it, and a handful of excuses for not being here - I guarantee you, once this leaks, that dozen will turn into a couple hundred plausible theories, and then we have a problem."

The gaunt batarian stared off at seemingly nothing for a time, then abruptly spoke: “You know, I’ve been meaning to get a kalashak board in here since we took over. I keep prioritizing other things above it, but it’s really very simple and should be easy enough to do. Don’t let me forget again, hm?”

There was another silence, this one somewhat briefer, and an observer might have noticed that Melek’s fingers twitched as he considered the situation. “You’re right, of course - I’m not naive enough to think the truth might keep people from believing this imposter. Abad was in that bunker, but everybody loves a conspiracy theory, and for certain people this could be a juicy one. So, a public reminder that Abad died defending the people of the former Hegemony from the end of the galaxy itself, combined with... what?”

Goro shrugged.

That shrug was met with a disdainful stare from across the desk. “Your scheming nature astounds me as always, my dear Goronak. You’re quite right, as always; we don’t need to respond directly. Doing so would legitimize the imposter, and could be interpreted as a panicked reaction much like our friend Collar’s. If we draw attention to them, they’ll use that attention to garner support. If we ignore them entirely, on the other hand...”

The disdainful stare turned into a frown of concentration once more. “I don’t particularly like any of our options here, Goro.”

"We’ve had likable options in the past? News to me."

Despite his vaguely skeletal features, Melek was very expressive, by batarian standards. He could use this to his advantage, manipulating the batarian habit of examining every body motion as closely as any word, but every so often he had what seemed to be a legitimate emotion and let it show. Such as that grin. The one that showed not joy, but interest, engagement, even curiosity - which for Melek may very well have been the same thing.

“No. No we haven’t. And this is no different. The question is, which of these contemptible options is the most flexible? Which one can we work with? We could certainly hire an information broker or an adventurous hacker to trace the imposter’s activities, and then follow up on their results with force, but that will take time. An indeterminate amount of time, in fact, depending on how well the imposter’s tracks are covered.”

"And a lot of resources wasted if it happens to be some prank by a bored kid."

“Also sets a nasty precedent that would require us to hunt down and kill every extranet user pretending to be somebody else. Which would amount to every extranet user. Probably a bit beyond our current capabilities, though I may keep it in mind for the future.”

"Great business plan, that. They’ll start hiring us to protect them from us."

“Hm. I may just incorporate that into our five-year plan. Regardless, this problem requires a somewhat more immediate solution.”

Couldn’t get more immediate than hunting the bastard down, whomever it was. Hmm. "Could counter claim it. Say it’s one of us - at least we keep our morale, or something." Wouldn’t work very well if people started calling it a publicity stunt if they haven’t already, and there were other issues with it.

It required being convinced this still was an imposter, which he was willing to go with, but that annoying fucking seed of doubt.. Just what whomever wanted, he was sure of it, but there it was...Abad might have ‘exiled’ Alto, but it was in name only, and even Melek knew that. If - by some impossible chance - it wasn’t an imposter, then they were screwed.

"Should watch his family. The kid - the younger boy - how old’s he?"

“Fourteen. The older one would be seventeen, now, the youngest, a girl, ten. I haven’t given them much thought since the War; we make sure they’re kept comfortably but otherwise we’ve left them alone, as Abad himself did. We should probably increase our surveillance, if only to make sure they don’t do anything silly like acknowledge that it could be him.”

"Fourteen’s a good age. Young, but - well, the Chains have had younger. His brother was around that age when he started learning the trade." Goro mused. The older one - Malak - had disappeared during the war, or shortly roundabouts, if he’d survived at all. Illium, last anyone had heard, and the asari had gotten their asses kicked there. But the younger boy...he might be starting to get the same boredom of the farm that seemed to plague the Sam-mel’s.

“Mmm. Things are a fair bit safer around here than they used to be, we could bring him in and keep him busy with simple jobs. If he turns out to be half the soldier his uncle was, we’d do very well out of it, and in the meantime he’d act as a hostage for his mother’s good behavior - not that I think she’s likely to leap to the conclusion that Abad is alive, or even be very happy about it if he was. He was quiet about the situation, but what little I know indicates that she wasn’t happy with him. Something to do with the brother. That’s just another stopgap, however - it gives us a bit more security, but doesn’t actually help solve the problem of the imposter.”

"Someone has to be giving the guy information somewhere. If it’s not us, and if it’s not one of the others, what’s left? His family. Either that or one of his superiors is laughing his eyes out at us." His lower eyes narrowed. "Or there’s a link somewhere that needs to be reminded of his place."

“The others. It must be one of them. We need to determine which, and the rest will fall into place. For now, a muted response, I think; we can increase surveillance on the family and do something public to remind the general masses that Abad is dead, all the while keeping an eye on the others to see how they react. They’re no doubt watching for our reaction before acting themselves, so let’s give them a nudge.”

Alto had no sense of humor. Ashtor was smart, and snide, but looking at the screen Melek had brought up, it was almost too... eloquent to be Ashtor. Too good a replication; he would have slipped by now. Joral was an idiot, and most of those words weren’t even in Goronak’s dictionary, let alone the punk kid’s. Which left... Melek, who was just as surprised as everyone else.

"Who do you think it is? If I’m prepping for a reaction, I want to know if I’m dealing with Alto’s brains or Ashtor’s bloodthirst."

Melek took his time to reply to that one, and the reply was not something he said often.

“I have no idea.”

To be continued...