Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams made her way through the corridors of the Mercury Apartment complex in the more questionable section of the wards of the Citadel.
She was clad in a form fitting blue uniform she had been supplied with upon accepting a position on the Citadel, something the Alliance believed would help make her more approachable for both the alien and human inhabitants. From the second she put it on she felt deeply uncomfortable. She had spent most of her career in the Alliance in sturdy practical, if visually unappealing, combat armour. The tight suit did provide protection from small arms fire, but she couldn't help but feel almost girly, something she tried desperately over the years to avoid.
~~~~~
Shepard's trial was only a few weeks away and Ashley had every intention in attending, offering her support to her former Commander. He still maintained that the Reaper threat was an imminent one, that the destruction of the Alpha Relay was a justified action to buy the galaxy at large time to prepare. But when making her way from the Presidium to the Lower Wards it became very clear to her that not a single being took heed of his warnings.
The upper crust of the Citadel continued with their extravagant lifestyles, displaying their wealth in increasingly obscene ways. Crime went on as usual, with mercenaries and red sand dealers finding ever evolving ways of keeping their activities out of the watchful eye of C-Sec.
More frustrating for Ashley, Udina only became more grating as time went on. He always maintained that his decisions were made in humanity's best interests in mind, yet they almost always acted in a way that adversely affected Anderson's reputation in some form. Ashley despised the man, recognising him as the opportunist he was.
Respect for Anderson grew over time the more Ashley saw him in action. No matter how asinine the requests and desires of the council became, he dealt with them as expertly as he could, all with a pleasent expression on his face. Though she did smile surreptitiously whenever she overheard him swearing under his breath as the com-link closed. If Anderson was anything like her, Ashley knew he envied the Alliance soldiers serving on distant worlds.
During another one of Udina's outbursts regarding Anderson's public statements showing support for Shepard, her omni-tool received an encrypted message, it's origin point being somewhere in the Lower Wards. As soon as she found an opening to leave Udina's office she took it and headed for one of the outdoor restaurants located near the embassies, finding herself a secluded table.
She ran a scan of the message, ensuring it didn't contain any malicious viruses. A precaution she had learned after the recent capture of a salarian computer expert using messages promising huge financial gains in the millions if the recipient gave him a mere few hundred credits in return. Those who fell for it were none the wiser as his software mined their private data.
Satisfied that it was clean, she opened the message. Immediately, she was met by pictures from what appeared to be a human colony, showing thousands of colonists in different states of distress. The final image made the reason for their terror clear; a group of batarian mercenaries surrounded the rounded up colonists, penning them in like cattle. It didn't surprise her in the least. Batarian attacks on human settlements had exploded in number after the destruction of their system after its Mass Relay was deliberately decimated by Shepard.
The councillors of the other races were quick to voice their anger at the actions of Shepard, more for the sake of protecting their reputations given their choice to reinstate him as a SPECTRE. As such, little was offered by the council in the way of providing help in protecting the at-risk colonies, leaving the Alliance to do the heavy lifting. Ashley's already low opinion of the council plummeted. She knew -- though wouldn't dare to say it publicly -- that the other races were quietly glad that such a heavy blow had been dealt to the batarians. They had become a scourge in the Terminus System, targeting and attacking any vessels they knew were vulnerable, only growing bolder in the decades following the emergence of the human race and end of the First Contact War.
As the image finally faded away, a short message appeared on the display of her omni-tool:
"Lower Wards, Mercury Apartments, room 221."
The validity of the message was an immediate question to her. It wasn't unknown for shady individuals to create false images as a method of playing with their targets emotions, to lure them into a trap. But Ashley Williams came from a long line of Alliance soldiers, if lives were in imminent danger she couldn't let it stand. Deactivating the omni-tool, she stood and stormed out of the restaurant and located the closest Rapid Transit terminal.
~~~~~
The Mercury Apartments were nowhere close to the same standards of the housing in the Presidium, complete with substandard utilities and poorly designed, cramped rooms. They were usually occupied by poorer newcomers to the Citadel looking to work their way up, or criminals syndicates establishing a connection aboard the station. Ashley knew that the sender of the message would likely fall into the latter category, but she had dealt with far worse than a petty would be crime lord.
She exited the elevator as it reached the final floor, thankful that she no longer needed to be subjected to the droning music. With every step she took Ashley kept her eyes trained on every door, preparing herself just in case she truly was walking her way into a trap.
Reaching the door without issue, she rapped her knuckles against it. It swished open, but there was no-one on the opposite side to greet her, which only served to heighten her suspicions. She crept inside as quietly as she could, the heels of her boots clicking against the metal floor ever so slightly. The lights were on, nothing in particular struck her as being out of place, nor an indicator of the apartment's renter currently holding the lives of thousands in their palm.
Cautiously, she crept over to the centre of the main living area, giving herself a view of the adjoining rooms. Again, she could see nothing of interest, no sign of mercenary activity. She turned her head to gaze out of the massive window behind her, looking for any vehicles hovering just outside, waiting to pepper the apartment with bullets, but all she saw was the expanse of the Citadel's open arms.
"Stay right there, human!" a voice ordered, the deep tone Ashley immediately recognised as belonging to a batarian, just a few feet separating them. He looked particularly grizzled for a batarian, a set of scars traced across the side of his face, his armour was covered by dents and scorch marks.
"I'm assuming you were the one that sent the message?" Ashley asked, showing her hands to indicate she had come unarmed.
"Obviously," the batarian bit out, "it was an easy way of getting you here. You're a sentimental species. My name is Be'sk Tol, leader of the mercenary group in that document I sent you."
"But that doesn't explain why you brought me here," Ashley replied, folding her arms. "If it's ransom money you're looking for you could have sent the pictures directly to the human embassy, but I doubt that they would negotiate with scum that threatens innocents."
"Oh, I'm not looking for any payment," the Be'sk licked his lips, "I was looking for you specifically. All it took was the right kind of pressure to convince you to come here by yourself; alone."
Ashley could feel her instinct to lunge at the batarian and connect her fist with his chin growing by the second. "What's that supposed to mean? What good is one Alliance soldier to you?"
