Chapter 1

“In local news, Katherine Phillips, Alliance Ambassador to the Turian Hierarchy was found dead today shortly after her meeting with Primarch Fedorian.” The Galaxy News went mostly unheard in the dingy bar down in the depths of the Zakura Ward. It was owned by a human but he rarely showed up enough for anyone to really care who he was. All the low-life patrons cared about was how cheap the alcohol was; the Galaxy News was merely background noise for those who were wallowing in their own lives. “The Ambassador was found shot in her own living quarters on the Presidium. The Primarch and C-Sec have both confirmed that Phillips was acting on behalf of Salarian refugees who have been landlocked within Turian space. C-Sec has already begun an investigation into the shooting.”

“Can you believe this?” The human bartender leaned on the counter, trying to spark a conversation with the drell that was slowly nursing his drink. “Some assassin kills an ambassador who’s just trying to help people. I don’t believe that.”

“Hm.” The drell sipped his drink, ignoring the human. His solid black, reptilian eyes scanned the room. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but somehow he knew things were amiss.

“I mean, an assassin that has the balls to take out a human ambassador in broad daylight has to be some kind of badass.” The bartender smirked as he nodded towards another human in the bar. “Wouldn’t you say, John?”

“That I would.” John, a heavier human stood from his chair and crossed the room to the door, locking it tight. Two other humans stood from their various seats and started to slowly make their way towards the bar, and the drell. “It seems to me that Miss Phillips was only trying to do what was right. And someone went and ensured that she would never help people again.”

The drell sipped his drink again, keeping a very close eye on each man as they approached. The bartender was standing in front of him now, leaning far over the counter staring the reptilian drell in the face, looking over his scales and black and green pattern across his skin.

“You see, snake-man,” the bartender continued. “We may be young compared to you and the rest of these aliens, but we sure don’t like it when our people are assassinated for some political gain. Hell, that’s why most of us got the hell out of the Alliance. So why not just tell us why you did it and we’ll let you go? Why did you kill Ambassador Phillips?”

“You are gravely mistaken.” The drell’s voice echoed in the near empty bar, accenting the multiple sounds of his speech pattern. His black eyes looked up at the bartender, a face that flashed before his eyes many times before. His name was Steven Right, former Lieutenant in the third Alliance Fleet; dishonorably discharged for firing on Turian children after the First Contact War. He tried his hand at mercenary work before being threatened by the Bloodpack to stay out of their area. After that, he took small time escort and mercenary work he could find on the Citadel. He was nothing more than a hired thug. The drell glanced at the others; they were all former crew mates of Steven. More thugs who think they have what it takes to take on a hanar trained drell.

“I’m gravely mistaken for what?” Steven leaned in; knocking the glass the drell was drinking off the counter and on to the floor. “That we’ll actually let you go? Who knows? We might.”

“You are mistaken that even though you think you have the advantage, you do not.” In a quick flash, the drell leapt from his seat only a few inches to get his hands around Steven’s head. He twisted sharply and smirked at the sudden but unmistakable sound of bones cracking in the bartender’s neck. He released the body and turned to face the three opponents and looked into each of their widened eyes. “Now you are down to three, and I have taken your commander. Choose your next move wisely.”

“I got your next move!” John shoved his hand into his over-sized pants pocket. The drell had noticed the bulge hanging on his right side; a collapsed M-3 Predator pistol manufactured by Elanus Risk Control. It was a good design and the easiest to get past Citadel Security, especially if you have underworld ties. John started to pull the weapon out of his pocket but it got caught on his pocket seam for only a second. It was all the time the drell needed.

Taking a few steps forward, he caught John’s left hand firmly with his right and tucked his left under the armpit, twisting his body into the human and flung him through the air to collide with a nearby table. John groaned in pain as the remaining two humans exchanged worried glances. “Two down. Are you sure you want to press you luck further?”

The two humans started to make their way around the drell, trying to inch their way to the door before he changed his mind. But luck was not on their side. The drell tensed his body, activating the biotic nodules along his spinal column. The blue-black aura of dark energy lingered around him as he expelled the power. In the blink of an eye, the drell propelled himself into the lead human, slamming his target hard against the far wall, killing him on impact. Overtaken by shock, the second human could do nothing but stare as the drell’s hands clenched the human’s throat and lifted him off the ground. The human kicked and tried to scream but no sound came out from the crushing strength of the drell’s hands. Within seconds the body went limp and the drell gave one sharp twist to ensure the human would not be getting up again.

John shook his head and pushed pieces of the table off of him. He quickly glanced around in a haze and spotted his gun he had smuggled in for this job specifically. He reached out for his weapon but a strong foot pinned his hand to the floor, cracked several bones underneath. The drell slowly reached down and picked up the firearm. “I know your name is John Reach from Earth. You served aboard the SSV Juggernaut in your youth under Captain Ethan Jiang. Is that correct?”

“W-What?” John tried to clear his head through the pain.

The drell stepped harder on the human’s hand. “I asked if my information is correct.”

“Yes!” John blurted out, desperately trying to get his hand out from under the drell’s crushing pressure.

“I thought so.” The drell examined the gun and turned it on his would be assassin. “Who sent you after me, Mr. Reach?”

“I don’t know! I just got a message telling me where you’d be and that I’d be paid for taking you out!” Tears began to stream down the human’s face as the drell lay on more pressure to the already broken hand.

“I believe you.” The drell released the human and stepped away, keeping the gun trained on John’s head. “However, due to your lack of discretion, whoever hired you will think that you have failed. You will contact your employer and tell them that you succeeded and got rid of my body in an airlock. You will demand that you meet in person for payment. You will do all this, or I will come find you and not be nearly as nice to you as I was with your co-conspirators. Is that clear, Mr. Reach?”

“Y-yes.” John swallowed hard and couldn’t stop his shaking. “You have my word.”

“If you screw this up, Mr. Reach, I’ll have more than your word. I’ll have your life.” The drell popped out the thermal clip from the Predator and tossed the weapon behind the bar. He turned towards the back of the establishment and opened the back door. Taking a quick check of the alleyway he turned back to John who was still sitting and shaking on the floor. “I’ll be seeing you.”