5. Doctors in the Rough

Saren leaned against the wall at a dead end between two buildings, watching from the dark. Omega's citizens scuttled by like insects in their filthy hive, throwing skittish glances at the twin pinpoints of light tracking their movements from the gloom. Even Omega's normally brash criminals nervously skirted past the alley, avoiding the predator lurking within.

A krogan rounded the corner, alone.

Saren straightened with a pistol in his hand. "Terr," he said by way of greeting.

"Saren," the gravelly voice replied. The krogan stopped a few paces away, his silhouette a black lump against the dim light.

His cybernetics allowed him to see the krogan's eyes darting about and the edge of the knife glinting in his hand. Saren smirked.

The alley stank of blood, feces and organic rot, but the darkness was solid to organic eyes. Saren had taken a calculated risk entering Omega without his armor, but the black clothes he wore made him part of that darkness. Terr couldn't see a thing.

"Where is Droyas?" Saren kept his voice level and his finger on the trigger.

"He's on the station." The krogan merc shrugged uncomfortably, eyes shifting as if looking for an attacker. "There's an asari with him. His bondmate." The krogan spat. "Says he won't go without her."

Saren scowled. Another asari. "What do you know about her?"

"Not much," the krogan admitted. "Her name is Jelina Rouni. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine." He shook his head. "He says she's some kind of scientist too, but I couldn't find much about her. Whatever she's been up to, she's been quiet for the last several hundred years. Droyas said her skills had something to do with cybernetics. He also said to give you this."

Saren readied his weapon.

The krogan rummaged in a pocket pulled out an OSD. He activated its haptic interface. The soft glow illuminated them both enough for the krogan to toss it to him.

"What's this?" Saren examined it with a frown. The krogan was supposed to lead Droyas to him. This wasn't part of the plan.

The merc shrugged again. "Hell if I know. Droyas told me to give it to you, so I did."

"And the other job I asked you to do?" Saren asked, swallowing the disc's light with his fist.

"The Blue Suns have taken the bait. My job is done."

Saren dismissed him with a grunt and the krogan walked off. Saren waited for him to leave before activating the OSD. There was a vid file, a document and a set of coordinates.

He played the message first, keeping the volume down low. Aria had spies all over the station. Saren didn't want her involved.

"Greetings, Spectre Agent Arterius!" A red-plated krogan with gold eyes stared out at him from the interface, smiling.

Saren frowned.

"I apologize for deceiving you like this, but I knew your escort had orders to bring me alone. Allow me to introduce you to my lovely bondmate, Jelina."

The screen jerked away from the krogan, settling on a blue-eyed asari with orange arrow-shaped markings on her crest and sides of her face, an orange chin stripe, orange paint around her eyes and purple lips. Saren found the orange a rather garish contrast against her blue skin. Not that he had a particularly refined sense of aesthetics, but it was better than the krogan's if he found her lovely.

The asari waved at the camera. "Hello, Spectre."

"She too is a brilliant scientist, with a keen mind and quick hand," the krogan said from off-screen. The asari shot a fond smile at the camera before it cut back to Droyas.

"Your proposition sounds enticing, but I cannot leave her behind. She assists me in my work and we are a capable team. If you are willing to include her in this potential deal, then I would be glad to hear you out."

The krogan smiled, showing an entirely unpleasant display of flat teeth. "The attached document has our contact information. The coordinates are the location we will meet you at if you agree to accept us both. We both look forward to working with you."

Saren shook his head. It was presumptuous, but he had to give the krogan credit for pulling his advantage. Most krogan negotiated by gunpoint. Apparently this one was smart enough to know better. If that's how he intends to play it, I can work with that.

He looked up the coordinates on his Omni-tool. It pinged back a location— a seedy looking bar in one of Omega's residential districts. It catered to dextro and levo species.

Saren snorted. How thoughtful.

Even so, he was never one to trust things to others. Holstering his pistol, he disappeared into the maze of Omega's back-alleys.

Saren stood on the rooftop of the building adjacent to the bar.

It was exactly as advertised: uninteresting and almost conspicuously unremarkable. It was rundown enough that most patrons would keep to themselves but still be on the lookout. If he started a scene, Aria would know about it before he got off the station.

Saren had to grudgingly admit that it was a smart move on the krogan's part, even if it complicated his own plans.

He fired off a quick message to the krogan, accepting his terms. Letting the asari come along was a small concession to make, and the potential benefits outweighed the potential costs. If she was a good scientist, he gained an additional worker. The communications jammers were online at the base, so there was little risk of exposure once she was on the planet. Even if she wasn't helpful, she could be useful if he needed leverage.

His Omni-tool pinged with a response a few minutes later, happily pledging their support.

Saren smiled viciously. Now we do things on my terms.

He waited until the pair arrived and watched them enter the bar.

They were both wearing civilian clothes, the krogan in a brown jumpsuit and his asari wearing a shiny, tacky purple dress, looking like some common whore on the krogan's arm. No weapons that he could see from above, though the asari had biotics of unknown power and any krogan could be dangerous at close range. Still, from looks alone, no one would ever assume they were scientists.

Saren waited a few minutes before heading down.

The bar was tepid and dirty, much like Omega itself. It also seemed to share Omega's fear of being well-lit.

Of course, Saren thought, the owner probably thinks hiding the blood stains makes him high-class.

The krogan and his bondmate were sitting in the corner, across from the entrance. The asari was perched on the krogan's lap, stroking the side of his face.

Saren swallowed his disgust and stalked over, giving a glance around at the other sentient trash in the room. It was as he suspected, but there were no obvious spies he could see. At least the krogan is smart enough to take a table away from the others.

He slid into a seat in the booth across from them. He waved away the asari waitress starting to sashay towards their table, and turned his attention to the krogan.

"Glad you could make it, Agent Saren," the krogan said with amusement. "We started to wonder if you were coming."

Saren gave him a manufactured smile. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor." He gestured to himself. "I needed to change into something less bulky than armor, so as not to frighten the locals."

The krogan rumbled with a quiet laugh. "Yes, that would be unfortunate."

"I apologize for my mate's rudeness." The asari gave him a simpering smile. "I told him this was not the best way to make a good impression."

Saren inclined his head as if he accepted the apology. "I would have been surprised if he agreed to come along without wanting to make some kind of deal," he said, sub-harmonics flanging with reassurance. That much is true, in any case.

"Yes, about that," the krogan said, tilting his head slightly. "There were a few points I was wondering if you could clarify."

"I'm certain by the end of this meeting, you will have the answers you're wanting," Saren said, maintaining his polite façade. "But first, let me ask you a question. What do you think I'm asking for?"

"Considering that you've asked for me," the krogan said, "I have to assume you're interested in the genophage." Droyas tilted his head to the side, looking at him with one eye. "The real question is 'why' you're interested in the genophage. I must admit, I have not figured out the answer."

"I'm looking for a cure." He'd let the krogan draw his own assumptions.

The asari's eyes went wide. "That's surprising, given your species' feelings toward each other."

The krogan watched him, gold eyes both interested and wary.

"That is true." Saren nodded to her. "Our species have a long standing hostility. However." He looked at the krogan. "I believe it is time to put away our grievances. Consider this my token of goodwill."

"A curious statement, Agent Saren." Droyas frowned and straighten his head on his shoulders.

Saren smiled. "You were once an associate of Warlord Okeer, were you not?"

The krogan shifted. He placed both hands down on the table and leaned forward ever so slightly. It was a restrained show of aggression.

Typical of a krogan, Saren throught, refusing to show any response. Krogan never liked to explain themselves, but would back down quickly if they felt their opponent had the upper hand. The krogan was no threat. This was nothing more than posturing. A truly dangerous krogan didn't waste time with posturing.

Saren could almost see the krogan deflate when he remained unmoved.

"That was a long time ago," Droyas said, slumping back in the booth. "I was young enough not to know any better."

"Oh?" Saren asked, sub-harmonics vibrating with apparent interest.

He could easily imagine why Droyas would want to downplay any connection. Okeer was a rusty, incompetent relic of primitive krogan culture, hated by his own people and everyone else. Rubbing Droyas's face in it would throw him off balance and make him easier to steer.

Droyas looked extremely uncomfortable now, his head swinging slightly from side to side. "Okeer approached me with promises of restoring the glory of our people. He spoke eloquently of showing the galaxy that we were far more than mindless brutes or fodder for their wars."

The krogan lowered his head, showing his crest defensively. "I admit that in those days, such a sentiment appealed to me. However, it grew increasingly obvious to me that he did not intend to cure the genophage. Instead, he merely wished to engineer soldiers like some salarian. We parted ways soon after."

"The Warlord is fixated on the past," the asari said, stroking Droyas's jaw soothingly. "He wishes a return to the days of the Rebellions, with superior troops who cannot be crippled by the salarians' wiles. That is not what we wish."

"Indeed." The krogan nodded. "Those days are gone for good, as they should be. We should be looking to the future, not repeating the mistakes of the past. "

Really, now? Saren thought with vicious satisfaction. Well, then ...

"I'm pleased to hear that," he said, sub-harmonics rumbling with unfeigned pleasure, though perhaps not for the reasons they would assume. "I, too, am looking at the future." Saren flared his mandibles reassuringly at the pair. "As to your previous association, Doctor, I think I can overlook it. We cannot allow the mistakes of the past to interfere with our plans."

"We are very interested in hearing about your plans," the asari said, purple lips curling at the edges. "You certainly have our attention, Spectre."

"Please," Saren said with a gracious dip of his head. "Call me Saren."

"Very well, Saren," the asari replied with a slight laugh. "What did you have in mind?"

Saren smiled.

Saren made his way to the dock, walking around a man lying sprawled out in the middle of the walkway. The man wheezed and blindly groped out at him as he passed.

He cocked his head, studying the shivering man huddled in a dirty rag of fabric. He couldn't see the man's face or features, but the head shape ... Batarian by the looks of it, Saren thought.

The Blue Suns barricade was nearby and this was the Suns' turf. A red sand addict, no doubt. There was a chance that if the Suns' offered a reward, the addict would remember him coming by and be desperate enough for another hit to report it. Saren couldn't allow that.

The batarian moaned pitifully in the grip of his withdrawal. A gunshot would draw unwanted attention, even on Omega.

Only one choice, then. Saren gathered his biotics around him.

He waited until he had enough force gathered before unleashing the force directly at the man's head, snapping his elongated neck instantly. The body slumped over against the wall.

I probably did the poor wretch a favor. He looked down at the stilled body, still concealed within the blanket. That's probably the best thing to ever happen to him.

Saren turned and walked away, not sparing so much as another glance for one of the station's many destitute. Omega chewed up the unwary and ate their bones. No one would ever know what happened to him. No one would care.

A ramshackle crew of Blue Suns mercenaries loitered at the barricade to the docks, styling themselves as private security. Saren had been to Omega enough times to know a racket when he saw it. The Blue Suns liked to "guard" docked ships, for a "fee". Anyone who couldn't pay had their ship seized as collateral.

The current crew was a mix of two barefaced turians, a human and three batarians. Not one of them was wearing a helmet.

Idiots. Saren sneered.

Few things disgusted him more than seeing turians and humans working together. Adding batarians into the mix only made things viler.

He activated his Omni-tool. Terr's virus was ravaging their network. Good.

It was worming its way through the Blue Suns security feeds, deleting all vids from the last day cycle. If it got through those, it would move on to other parts of their network, dealing them a rather severe blow and obscuring his true motivations.

Saren knew enough about the inner workings of the Blue Suns to know they never manned their security feeds. It was just for use after the fact, whether for retribution or extortion. He knew about their little agreement with Aria, too.

He wasn't worried about Omega's pirate queen, but he wasn't going to play with her today. Aria T'Loak thought she held the station in an iron grip, but there were plenty of places where her hold was tenuous. Saren had no plan to return to Omega, but he couldn't rule it out. There was no reason to give her any ammunition.

He followed by shutting down their comms remotely, ensuring they wouldn't be able to call for back-up. All he needed to do now was wipe the log of ships docked at this port. But first he needed to deal with the mercenaries guarding it.

The Blue Suns snapped to attention as he approached. He had to give them credit for that, at least. They had some modicum of self-preservation.

Saren's ship was docked just past the Sun's barricade. He wasn't worried, though. Even this kind of mercenary trash wasn't stupid enough to tamper with a Spectre's ship. That wouldn't stop him from running his usual scans, of course. Paranoia was a survival skill in his profession, one he kept highly cultivated.

"I'm afraid we'll need to see some ID," a batarian said, walking over with an exaggerated swagger.

Saren decided he'd given them too much credit in thinking they had a modicum of self-preservation.

"You've been paid for your time, batarian." He turned to the batarian, sparing him an icy look. "I'm getting on my ship. What you decide to do is none of my concern." He turned away, keeping the batarian in his peripheral vision.

The batarian bristled. "I think we're going to need a scan."

Getting into a fight with the Blue Suns armed only with a pistol and no armor was less than ideal. There were other alternatives than a frontal assault. Still, Saren thought, at least killing them will be adequate stress relief. Normally he wouldn't bother with such scum, but these weeks of watching his every step was starting to chafe his plates.

The human had a Vindicator assault rifle, with dangerous burst-fire compared to the batarians' crap rifles. The turians were only armed with shotguns, not effective at range. The batarians were basic troopers, no shields worth mentioning.

Saren flicked his mandible in annoyance. I'll kill this batarian first, then the human.

"Very well," he said, turning. "If that's how you want to proceed."

The batarian sneered and raised his Omni-tool.

He slowly stepped forward, gathering his biotics to prepare for a biotic barrier. He stopped in front of him, fists clenched at his sides.

The batarian, taking it for a show of impotent anger, glanced down to activate the scan.

Saren punched the batarian full force with his prosthetic left arm, drawing his pistol as the merc crumpled. He shot the human while the other mercs scrambled for their weapons, and activated his biotic barrier.

The mercs dove for cover behind the barricade.

One of the batarians popped up and sent a wild spray of assault rifle fire at him. The biotic barrier absorbed the stray shots.

He sent a tech mine at the batarians, sabotaging their weapons. He followed it with an incendiary grenade and dipped behind a crate.

The batarians ran out of cover, screaming, armor ablaze.

Saren's cybernetics allowed him to optimize his aim. Two shots and they were down.

The turians broke around the ends of the barricade, trying for a pincer attack.

He scoffed, concentrating his biotics and throwing a wave of energy at one. The wave caught one turian and sent him flying over the edge of the dock, screaming as he plunged into Omega's depths.

Saren turned as the other turian dove for cover. He and grabbed him with his biotics, lifting him up into the air. He shot the hapless merc as he hung defenseless, then carelessly dropped the body over the edge.

Amateurs. He holstered his pistol. Not terribly surprising, though. Omega wasn't known for breeding intelligent criminals.

He activated the terminal, opening the barricade and planting a worm that would corrupt the ship logs, void out all payments received and wipe the console.

It was petty, but there was something satisfying about denying the mercenaries credits. Not to mention that the Blue Suns were stupid enough that a string of idiots would undoubtedly get their Omni-tools wiped before they realized what was happening.

Saren smirked. That was an extra incentive.

He left the barricade open and returned to his ship.

After doing his standard security check, he sent a message to Benezia to divert a contingent of commandos with one of his krogan mercs to pick up Droyas and the asari. He'd given them some coordinates near the Perseus Veil, out away from Omega.

He'd have his people pick up Droyas and his asari to bring them to the base. They'd dispose of Droyas's ship, after retrieving anything useful. Not that Droyas would know. Neither of them would know a thing.

Saren smiled. Now things were going as they should.

A.N.: I'm still working on this story! Life's been crazy lately, but it's not dead. This is sort of an interlude chapter but there's a point to it, honest.

Action scenes are still the bane of my writing existence. One day I will figure out how to write a decent one.