Chapter 1: Business as Usual
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works, if you recognise it from somewhere else, surprise it isn't mine.
Betad by morde24, Atrius, Hermes, Priapus, Marethyu, Old man of the mountain and TheDonFluffles
Fluffles' Notes: "..."
The Guild of Gamers: The Operative
Chapter 01: Business as Usual
All things considered, this is a pretty tame ending after everything I've seen and done.
Sitting against the wall, I chuckle slightly even as I wince, feeling a sharp pain in my lung as I cough up a mouthful of blood.
I got set up. My support never showed up and these guys knew I was coming, but that's just life I guess.
I probably knew too much, or maybe I just stepped on the wrong toes, in the end, it doesn't make much of a difference.
Glancing around the room, I smile slightly at the grim sight of several bodies littering the room, including my target. Just some arms dealer who was supplying my country's enemies, a pretty typical mission, all things considered. At least I'm taking them all with me.
Still got the job done, despite it all.
I know enough about the human body to know I'm dying, with several bullet holes in my chest. I'm certain that one of the bullets punctured my lung, and I've got some nice internal bleeding going on in there.
Live by the sword, die by the sword I suppose. I always knew this was probably how I was going to go out, people don't exactly retire in my line of work.
Well, some do but they're the bastards who got too many medals and went from fieldwork to a desk job, calling themselves 'General' and sending poor bastards like me off to die.
You're rather accepting of your death
Huh, now I'm hallucinating voices?
Not quite, I'm afraid.
Ah, are you God then? We can skip the final judgement, I'm fairly certain I know which way I am going.
Not going to protest your eternal damnation?
No. I know what I've done, and I certainly don't regret it. I did what I had to do, for king and country and all that.
Fortunately, you're wrong again.
I'm not God, not the God you're thinking of anyway, nor am I Lucifer here to drag you down to hell for your sins.
Your world doesn't have a God or afterlife, just the void.
My world? Interesting. So, what does an extra-dimensional deity want with a dying man like me?
I find you interesting, and lucky for you I happen to be a founding member of a multiversal organisation that recruits interesting people.
Short version, you get transferred to a new world with a 'system' that will grant you powers, ones that I believe you're very well suited for.
Is this an offer I can't refuse?
No, there's an infinite number of worlds out there, you're my first choice but there are countless secret agents currently bleeding out across the multiverse.
If you're dumb enough to refuse, you die and your soul ends up in the void and I find someone else.
Nobody does anything for free, I certainly don't believe you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart, so what do you get out of this?
Entertainment. When you're as ancient and powerful as me, you find that entertainment is one of the only things that matters anymore.
The entire organisation was formed by me and my friend to kill time, and your actions and choices will serve as entertainment for us.
Lovely.
Let's be honest, it's a very one-sided deal.
I get some minor entertainment, plus bragging rights with my fellow founders if you perform well enough, you get a second chance at life, with immortality if you don't fuck up and die in the first world.
If you 'win' in that world, the Multiverse opens up to you and you can do pretty much whatever you want.
Bragging rights? Ah, this is a game to you.
Exactly, which is why I'm counting on you to do better than whoever the other founders pick.
I hate losing.
On that, we can agree. I can't say I particularly want to go to the void if I have another choice, I'm sure there'll be some massive cost down the line, but at least I'll be alive to pay it.
That's the spirit. You'll like where I'm sending you, and the background I've picked should certainly feel familiar enough for you. Kuro might let his picks choose their background, but I'm not so generous (or lazy).
Before you toss my soul into a new world, do I get a name for my extremely questionable saviour?
Shiro Eis, the most powerful being in the multiverse. We'll meet in person if you don't die. Again.
A pleasure to meet you, I'd shake your hand but I'm pretty sure I'm about to bleed out .
Yup.
Don't worry, you won't be dead for long.
Ah, lovely.
As my vision darkens, I briefly wonder if I hallucinated this entire conversation as I take my final breath, going cold.
But then I feel warm again, opening my eyes as I sit up, looking down at my topless body, seeing a distinct lack of bullet holes.
New memories flood my head, merging with mine as I learn my new 'background', which as Shiro said is rather familiar to me.
I am Maxim Russ (my old name was Max Russells, so I can work with that. It's certainly not the first time I've used an alias), Section Seven Agent.
Section Seven, the black ops program of the Systems Alliance, which is the ruling body of humanity now that we've ascended to the stars. Doing all the dirty jobs that the Alliance can't admit to having anything to do with, hell the entire program has been 'discontinued' after getting caught, and I'm technically a wanted man.
Maxim isn't even my real name here, just my latest alias since I had to drop my old one when Section Seven went to shit, changing my appearance and name to keep working without unwanted attention.
Yup, same shit, different coat of paint.
Doing the same job I've always done, but now I'm doing it in space. Instead of dealing with some third-world country and its warlord of a dictator, I'm dealing with aliens.
From my new memories alone, the Batarians make me miss those African warlords. Yup, fuck Batarians, new racism acquired.
Interestingly, I'm currently basically free to do what I want, with the 'collapse' of Section Seven, my current orders are to 'create and maintain a cover while acting in the best interest of the Systems Alliance', which basically gives me a free pass to do whatever I think benefits humanity as long as I don't get I caught, because if I do, the Alliance doesn't know me.
I occasionally get orders to deal with this or that threat, but I'm essentially a free agent for the most part.
It does mean that I don't have access to the Alliance resources or intel, I need to take care of myself and acquire my own safehouses, funds, and resources, but I can work with that.
Evidently, I have been working with that, since I'm currently in my safehouse in a space station called Omega, known for being a haven for the scum of the universe.
It makes a good place for me to lay low, and ply my trade. My current cover is that of a bounty hunter and mercenary, and there's plenty of work to be found here.
I've made a nice nest egg of credits, the standard galactic currency, and it gives me an excuse to be moving around the galaxy. Anywhere I want to go, I can probably find a bounty contract in the area, and they're usually legal enough for me to come and go as I please.
Shit, I'm even a card-carrying member of the Bounty Brokers Association which is recognised by the Council as a professional and legal organisation, which makes it all nice and official.
Looking around my shitty apartment, I pause as I spot a lump in my bed next to me, shifting the covers to reveal the sleeping blue form.
Memories of last night return, making me smirk as I run my hand along the alien but incredibly feminine purple body. Asari, that's what she is.
The mono-gendered race happen to look a lot like blue or purple-skinned human women with strange rigid tentacles in the place of hair.
Faere, as my memories label her, shifts and slowly wakes up, stretching as she sits up, giving me an eyeful of her large breasts as she yawns.
She's a dancer at the Afterlife, the domain of Aria T'loak, self-proclaimed ruler of Omega, an Asari crime lord with delusions of grandeur, but I can't deny she's powerful.
She's one of the stronger Biotics around, which basically translates to weird space magic. I'm not a biotic myself, I prefer a trusty gun anyway.
"What time is it?" Faere asks, looking for the clock before her eyes widen. "Oh fuck, I'm late for work," Faere says quickly, her red eyes widening as she leans over and gives me a quick kiss before getting out of bed, and gathering her scattered clothes.
Faere and I have been friends with benefits for a month or so after I got into a fight with a Turian thug who was harassing her, but I don't particularly like her.
She's beautiful and eager to please, but there's something that makes me almost dislike her.
Aria sent an amateur to spy on a professional. I worked out that she was spying on me before I ever took her to bed. I just decided it was easier to keep her close and control what she learns and feeds to her boss than to send her away and see how Aria reacts.
Aria doesn't like what she can't control, she barely likes what she can control, and she doesn't trust me. Maybe she thinks I'm here for her bounty, or she might suspect my true profession, but whatever it is, she has turned her attention towards me.
She's not actually wrong to suspect me, funnily enough.
I'm on Omega because there's been an increase in piracy aimed at human ships, traders going to human colonies mostly, and I discovered that the pirates are operating out of Omega.
I'm here to work out if they're working independently, with one of the mercenary bands, or for Aria herself.
If they're working alone, I'll just kill them. If they're working with a larger group, things get a little more complicated.
Assassinating Aria would be problematic, I certainly wouldn't be the first to try, she's ruled Omega for a long time after overthrowing a powerful Krogan who she's kept around as a trophy.
Frankly, I'd rather try and take down one of the three main merc groups, the tech and biotic-loving Eclipse, the incredibly violent Blood Pack, or the ruthless 'private security company' the Blue Suns.
Well, in the worst case this is a rather precariously located space station that could have a catastrophic accident, and Aria would have a hard time flexing her power if her little station was falling into the sun, but that's a final option.
I don't mind collateral if I find it necessary, but I would rather avoid it. It's the difference between a professional and an amateur, a professional like me shouldn't need to resort to plans that have such massive collateral damage.
If I do, it means I fucked up somewhere along the way and that's just not good enough for me. I take pride in my work, if Aria is causing trouble for the Alliance she will die, and I'll make sure whoever takes her place as the leader of this festering sore on the ass of the galaxy is someone more human-friendly.
Watching Faere get dressed, I give her a lazy wave as she leaves, narrowing my eyes when I'm left alone.
I know where the captain of the pirates lives, and while he goes to Afterlife to spend his ill-gotten gains on women and booze, I haven't seen any actual evidence that he works for Aria or one of the merc groups.
But I need to be sure before I finish the job and get rid of him and his crew.
Getting up myself, I get dressed in some plain clothes, no armour today for what I have planned, but I do take my hold-out pistol. I shouldn't need it but this is Omega and it's always best to assume someone will try and kill me.
Fortunately, I have built a good reputation as a rather ruthless bounty hunter, so most of the scum in Omega knows me and won't give me trouble.
— Later —
I've studied the pirates' schedule, and they'll be on Omega for a few more days yet. They always burn through what they earn in short order and then head out to get more, and they've been spending hard and fast lately.
They don't have a home on Omega, sleeping on their ship, but that wasn't a problem for me.
The docks are nowhere near as secure as the ones on the citadel, with very little real security, so getting to their ship while they party wasn't a problem, and getting into their ship was even less of an issue.
They really should update their ship VI, it's hilariously out of date and has a laughable amount of security flaws. Somehow, I don't think they'll live long enough to learn from their mistakes.
Moving to the cockpit, I get to work as I start going through all their communications and extranet activity. It's 99% bullshit as expected, but as I search through the files and messages I find exactly what I was looking for.
Coded messages with planned routes for the Alliance ships they've been hitting, telling them which ships will have protection and which are easy pickings.
That explains how these amateurs have been doing so well, someone has been feeding them the low-hanging fruit.
The messages aren't coming from Omega, and obviously, their mysterious backer didn't sign them or leave me directions to them so I can easily track them down and shoot them in the head several times.
That won't stop me, they hid their tracks well but this isn't the first time I've had to track down someone who thought they were being smart, and I copy everything onto my omni-tool.
It takes longer than I would like, due to the ancient garbage firmware they have on their ship, and as I go to leave I hear the sound of the ship opening up again as someone gets home.
Frowning, I go still as I listen to the footsteps, one pair of footsteps, heavy, probably male, definitely armoured from the sound of metal on metal.
They don't come towards the cockpit, making me relax as I finish the download and move silently through the ship, spotting a single batarian in fairly expensive armour.
The attacks have obviously been profitable for these guys, given the quality of their armour and weapons. His armour definitely has shields, but while they could stop a bullet they won't stop me from just snapping his neck.
But that wouldn't work for what I have planned, it'd put them all on edge so I sneak around him instead. The fool is drunk, so it's an easy enough task as I make my way to the engine room.
They have nice armour and weapons, but their ship is rather… terrible, to be perfectly honest. I'm not exactly an engineer, but I do know how to break things in just the right way, making some slight modifications to their drive core. Nothing serious, not yet.
Their ship VI is also frankly terrible, they've not been doing their security updates and it's going to cost them as I hack into it and start to make some little adjustments.
As I'm placing a virus into their systems, I pause as I realise someone beat me to it. There's a particularly nasty virus in the system already, a gift from their mysterious backer?
I'm very careful not to trigger it as I work my magic, placing a backdoor into their systems. I'll be able to know where they're going and who they're talking to.
The rest of the crew arrived while I was playing with their systems, but that's fine. It's getting late and it won't be long until they go to sleep, and none of them have any reason to come down to their engine room.
So I spend my time working on following the tangled trail back to their mysterious backer. They're impressively careful, which actually makes trying to track them down a rather entertaining way to pass the time.
Life gets too dull when there's no challenge.
Or to be more precise, it was entertaining before someone started to track me down from the other end, trying to get into my omni-tool.
Whoever is on the other end, they're very good, maybe better than me as we battle for cyber-supremacy, but I hate losing.
[Cyber Supremacy]
You have the best training available when it comes to technology, there are very few systems you can't hack into, and no data that is safe from you.
It's not enough to just fight them off, I keep going as I try and infiltrate their systems, I can almost feel the anger on the other end as their attempts become more furious.
The pirates could come down to find me, and I probably wouldn't even notice as I glare at my omni-tool before a triumphant grin grows on my face.
The line shuts off, (did they do a full shutdown on their system) but not before I can pull some data from my opponent's system.
They definitely located me, because moments later the virus in the pirates' system activates, and their core starts to power up in a way that is definitely not safe.
I'm not an engineer, but I know that drive cores aren't supposed to make sounds like that.
Getting the hint, I decide to make my exit, sooner rather than later. The pirates probably heard the door open as I made my escape from their ship, but I think they have bigger problems at the moment as I slip into the many alleyways of Omega, hearing a large explosion behind me.
Oh yeah, they were really, really unhappy about the results of our little competition. Well, that's the pirate problem sorted at least, and I have information that should lead me to the mastermind.
My little adjustment to their systems would have let me send them into the sun anyway, I just wanted to bide my time and get more information on their boss.
I'm sure the explosion will gain Aria's attention, and my escape wasn't exactly as subtle as I would have liked, but I'll deal with that later.
Evidently, she's not my target, or I'd have all her goons hunting me down, she's not the patient type when she's pissed off or feels threatened.
The fact that she doesn't have twenty guys waiting for me at my safehouse is a good sign, but I should probably make plans to move very soon.
Gathering my things and making sure I'm ready for a quick exit should it become necessary, I open up my omni-tool and start going through the data I tracked down.
So, who is the smartass that I need to kill?
Pausing, I read the data once more, making sure I am not mistaken as I take a seat, frowning slightly.
Ah, fuck.
I'd think I'd rather just try and kill Aria, actually.
But I guess I can hunt down the Shadow Broker instead, how hard can it be?
They're only the galaxy's most powerful information broker, who has never been identified or left even a trace of their real identity. The same information broker, who has a private army of incredibly worrying size and efficiency, blackmail material on damn near everyone in the galaxy and seemingly infinite resources.
Sounds easy enough, right?
Shit, I really am just doing the same shit I did in my last life but in space, let's hope this one ends better for me.
— Bonus Scene — Jane Shepard
She didn't trust Cerberus as far as she could throw Miranda, though she could probably toss the smug superior bitch pretty far if she used her biotics.
"I've been looking over the dossiers, and I'd strongly recommend starting by heading to Omega to acquire Mordin Solus, the Salarian professor," Miranda said, drawing her attention. "We know the Collectors use some type of advanced technology to immobilise their victims, we'll need him to develop a countermeasure to protect us before we can risk any encounter with the Collectors themselves."
She'd seen too much of the horrific shit Cerberus had done to trust them, but that didn't mean she couldn't use them.
"Four of the recruits are on Omega, right?" Jane asked, she'd briefly skimmed the files, planning to go over them in more detail when she had the time later.
"Correct, Archangel, Zaeed Masani, Mordin Solus and Maxim Russ are currently in Omega. Most aren't expected to move, but Maxim is unpredictable. It'll be best to attempt to recruit him before he moves on, he's annoyingly hard to track," Miranda agreed, a brief scowl on her face.
"Oh? The file on him was… slim," Jane said, thinking back about him.
"Honestly, his name probably isn't even Maxim. Cerberus knows of three different aliases he uses," Miranda admitted.
"Tell me about him, what are we dealing with," Jane ordered, noticing how Miranda's eyes narrowed briefly at being told what to do. The 'genetically perfect' Cerberus cheerleader didn't like taking orders from her, that much was clear.
"Maxim Russ is, or was, a member of Section Seven, an Alliance black-ops program that trained agents who could work outside the boundaries of the law, not unlike the Council Spectres or the Salarian STG. The program was officially discontinued several years ago on the Council's orders after two of their agents got caught assassinating an anti-human Turian politician," Miranda explained, making her narrow her eyes.
She'd never heard of them, but she wasn't arrogant enough to believe she knew everything the alliance did.
"Maxim was called back to Earth for reassignment, instead he went rogue. That's the official story, anyway. The Illusive Man believes that Section Seven is still operating, and Maxim is still under Alliance command despite being a wanted man, usually operating in the Terminus Systems," Miranda continued. "Cerberus attempted to recruit him after he went rogue, but it didn't quite… succeed."
The scowl on Miranda's face told her enough.
"You were the one who tried to recruit him, weren't you?" Jane asked, making Miranda's scow deepen.
"I was," Miranda admitted, offering no details on what went wrong. She clearly didn't like admitting that she failed to complete a mission. "He has clashed with Cerberus agents on several occasions, sabotaging multiple Cerberus operations. He's been acting as a solo mercenary and bounty hunter, it's possible he's on Omega to claim Archangel's bounty so getting to him before two of our targets kill each other is essential. Plus, if he leaves Omega he will be annoyingly difficult to track down."
"What are his skills like?" Jane asked, her opinion of Maxim rising even if it sounded like it would be difficult to recruit him.
"He's damn good," Jacob said simply, drawing her attention to the other Cerberus agent. She
trusted Jacob a little more than Miranda, even if she thought he was working for the wrong guys. "He's N7 like you, though he got his designation off the records, plus he's a skilled hacker and infiltrator. He's a jack of all trades, infiltration, sabotage, hacking, assassination, he's done it all."
N7? That was a hard designation to get, if he'd gone through the Villa then he was very talented, she had to work her ass off to get that little N7 on her uniform.
Plus, it'd be nice to have a fellow Alliance soldier by her side while she was stuck dealing with Cerberus. Maybe she'd have to try and get in contact with Admiral Hackett or Anderson, and see what they knew about him.
Of course she'd have to explain that she wasn't quite as dead as previously thought, but she'd have to do that eventually anyway.
Glancing back at the dossier, she looked at the single picture of Maxim, he looked younger than her from a glance, and the file didn't have an age or much background.
The picture was taken from a distance, probably supposed to be taken discreetly, but Maxim was glancing at the camera with a slight smirk on his handsome face.
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DarkWolfShiro
DarkWolfShiro Author’s Note: Yes, yes I know.
One of my New Year's resolutions is to start no fics in 2023, but I’ve wanted to play with Sci-Fi since I started writing.
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