Morgan took a skycar to his drop off point. Omega’s industrial environment wasn’t something he thought he’d be fond of, but as fine particles of pollution and dust danced across the windshield in the orange artificial lights of the station, he reflected. Some places, even with their rough edges, offered more comfort than the glamorous halls of the elite. Morgan considered it might be something with how he viewed himself, however chances were that it had more to do with who he was about to meet.
The skycar put down on yet another nameless district of Omega, not distant from where the Audron was docked or Afterlife. It might as well have been far away, though, with its clustered and cramped corridors. Stepping out of the car, Morgan had a better look around. The claustrophobic environment was a result of unplanned building. Haphazard hab units were stacked next to vendor booths, and the few people who moved still gave the area the feel of a more populated zone as they struggled past the myriad junk left in their paths by uncaring hands. Neon lights rudely enticed the eye away from the garbage, as if their fake attraction pointed to portals of escape for a few, hard earned credits.
Like when Morgan had met with the woman who called herself Lena, the drop off location was to be unobtrusive, not near any remarkable area at all, really. It was identified by its passage between two points of interest more than anything else. But when he passed a bar, whose entrance was purposely left open seemingly to attract customers, he heard his name, spoken by a familiar voice, just audibly enough for his ear to catch above the din of his surroundings.
“Morgan.”
It was as if Morgan’s blood stopped flowing. He steadily came about, peering into the bar towards the person who called his name.
The corner of the bar’s countertop began near the entrance. Sitting on the second stool was a woman, with bleached white hair styled as a wild, asymmetrical short-haired bob. She wore a deep violet dress far too expensive to safely travel Omega in. Conservative across the top, the dress only left the shoulders bare above the waistline, but below was an open leg slit travelling all the way to the hip. Pale, impossibly smooth skin, piercing blue eyes, and a face of perfected angles finished a vision that could turn heads across the galaxy. The woman’s fingers played lightly on the elegant glass of a drink before her, pristine and filled with a clear liquid.
Morgan was captivated for an initial moment, until he forced himself to look beyond the woman, to her surroundings. In stark contrast, the bar was the kind of dingy, hole in the wall establishment anyone would find on Omega. There wasn’t a place that hadn’t been touched at least twice, with some film of dirt left behind. Further, the place was devoid of other customers, inconceivable with Omega’s desperate population always looking for elixirs to save them. Finally, Morgan spotted the look on the batarian bartender, subdued, eyes cast downward, and sweating. When Morgan’s gaze, sharpened by experience, returned to those of the woman’s blue eyes, he remembered what was behind them.
“Iyana.”
The woman smiled as Morgan said her name. “Come on in, Morgan. Veltrus, our accommodating bartender, has a table set up in the back.” The bartender nodded, but did not look up. Iyana stood. “Take my arm, Morgan. Let’s get you a drink and have a chat.”
Morgan looped his arm through Iyana’s as instructed, and walked deeper inside. He felt his heart rate increase, but slowed his breathing as best he could to control his emotions. Veltrus moved quickly to close the outer doors and then raced ahead of the humans to stand by a flawlessly cleaned table. The bartender pulled aside a seat for Iyana. Morgan guided her to the chair, and went to sit across from her. Veltrus made to take an order, but Morgan waved him away.
“Nonsense,” Iyana interjected. “Bring him a vodka, neat, and another for me. But you don’t have to prepare Morgan’s glass like mine. He doesn’t care about dirt.”
Making sure his voice remained steady, Morgan prodded Iyana, “Where’s your hound?”
“Maugrim?” Iyana waved a hand and chuckled. “I let him roam. Surely he has found something to rip apart by now, having his fun. The poor beast has been travelling for so long.”
“I see you feel comfortable flaunting about on Omega,” Morgan said sarcastically, doing his best to display confidence. “What did you do to Vayne to have him clean up in front of you? Threaten his family, too?”
Iyana’s eyes flickered, studying Morgan. Then they rolled in faux exasperation, “Oh, please, Morgan. It is all about what you can handle. I don’t need the life of a stray mutt anymore. And besides, don’t you get tired of wallowing in all the s**t?”
Instead of answering with words, Morgan reached into a compartment near his armored chest plate, slowly and with his hands entirely visible to Iyana the entire time. He removed the hard drive with the data and placed it on the table.
“Good boy,” Iyana cooed, though Morgan was older than her by several years. She reached to a belt pack on her back, and pulled out a small, cylindrical, black container. Iyana slid it across the table to Morgan. “Put the data in there and seal it.”
Morgan did as instructed, and offered the container back to Iyana.
“No, no,” Iyana dismissed, “Put that right back down.” Morgan did as Veltrus returned with the drinks. When the bartender placed the glasses of vodka, Iyana said to him, “Be a dear, Veltrus. Take that container and throw it in the incinerator.”
As Veltrus left with the black container, Morgan couldn’t hide his stunned expression.
“I like you, Morgan,” Iyana conveyed softly, shifting her glance down to her drink while she played with the edges of the glass once more. “You are honest. I hire plenty of people who can fight, or deliver messages. But it is the honesty, Morgan, that makes you an asset.
“You’ve never been in front of The Shadow Broker, Morgan. They take you, completely unaware of your senses, of course, on a journey of indeterminable length, when he asks that you meet with him. And even then, few actually enter the room with him. If you are so unfortunate as to have to explain yourself in front of The Shadow Broker, I can tell you most do not leave. For those of us who have, there is but one aspect that has let us walk out of that room, and that is our honesty.”
Still unable to find words, Morgan watched as Iyana shifted again to stare back at him.
“The answer to the question that you are so tongue-tied about,” Iyana said, “Is Oleb.”
Morgan’s resistance drained away, and his shoulders slumped.
“Do you know what he asked me last?” Iyana teased, “He asked if he could have a drink.” She picked up her immaculate glass and took a sip, “I told him, of course, no. He was too young. You should have seen the look on his face.”
Clenching his fist, Morgan was unable to control his building anger in that second. He stopped himself before his other hand grabbed his Phalanx. Instead, Morgan opened his fist, reached for his glass, and pushed it away.
As if it moved by itself, the glass slid back in front of Morgan.
“Control is an excellent asset to have as well,” Iyana continued. “But we both know you have work to do there, Morgan. Remember Jen.”
“I remember. Telling me over and over again about all the strings The Shadow Broker pulls isn’t going to help me do any better for you.”
The enchanting expression on Iyana’s face transformed into a suddenly pale, rage filled, skull like image as her voice became storming and rose, “Maybe I wouldn’t have to f**king remind you if you didn’t let some asari b**ch capture and interrogate you! You made that data worthless!” Iyana’s eyes blazed and her delicate nostrils flared before she drew in a deep breath and calmed herself. “Look at me,” she suddenly laughed, “I sound like Cerberus! As if I didn’t like asari.”
Through the volatile display, Morgan found he had leaned backwards. He sat normally again. “If you trust me, then why forgive me for the compromised data?”
“Oh, forgiveness is not something that we go by in our line of employment, Morgan. Someone has to pay. I won’t, and for now, you won’t, because there are other needs that you’ll fulfill. Count yourself fortunate, and just remember that everyone works with us, Morgan: corporations, governments, The Council, Aria. And they’ve all had people answer to us. That includes Spectres.”
Morgan knew what was coming next. “So you are about to tell me what I’m going to do.”
“That’s my Morgan,” Iyana remarked with a predatory smile. “Always looking forward. The Shadow Broker has been wondering about your colleague, Deidrus Androkan. We care about our people, you know. And Androkan has…different assets than you. So we need to evaluate him, Morgan. I know this isn’t your typical sort of thing, but you are qualified and you go that extra mile for us. The Shadow Broker wants to know, Morgan, where Androkan’s allegiance lies.”
Feeling his throat tighten, Morgan confirmed, “You aren’t sure if he answers to The Shadow Broker first, anymore. You wonder if he has prioritized his work for The Council.”
“Exactly.” Iyana took another sip of her drink and flashed a smile. “Really Morgan, the only one holding yourself back in this business is you.”
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