[centre][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/masseffect/images/8/8b/Gozu_Entrance.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20100618212123[/img][/centre]

[i]2181CE[/i]
O M E G A
[hr]

The past five years had been kind to Odette. She’d climbed the Cerberus ladder even further, been handler to dozens more agents as they too, worked through the system. She had carved out a space for herself that few other operatives could come close to encroaching on. Not only was she skilled with her scope, but she was loyal to a fault and ruthlessly so. If she wasn’t so secretive and prone to isolation she would be the poster woman for the entire organisation. 

Her job was simple, every time. Find the target, retrieve them. A two-step process that was as clear as day to her. More often than not, however, she was accompanying some jumped up biotic, or a cocky commando. She was the one that helped them to fall in line, and usually after a first impression they did so. There weren’t many after that who really kept up the act of bravado around her, or mocked her careful distance and quiet planning after she saved them from a prickly situation. They were always annoying, always brash, and always left a bad taste in her mouth. There had only ever been one agent who’d left a good impression on her. Only one that she’d trusted, only one she’d never needed to worry about, and only one that she’d considered letting in…

Her lip curled at the thought, and she shook it off. It was Omega, it was just the setting. Too familiar, too many memories. 

She was a sight at the food stand, if people cared enough about what was around them to look. Electric blue hair cut into a blunt bob as sharp as her jawline, and bright eyes to match. Quietly, she allowed herself a moment to prepare. A small meal of broth, a crust of bread, and a cup of piping hot tea. Her eyes scanned the flow of Omega residents as they went about their day, she was still invisible to them. Of course, Odette was counting on that. On Omega, she could hide in plain sight. The heat of the ginger in the cup was pleasant and washed back the smell of failure that lingered around. How Odette loathed Omega, a cesspool of depravity. It never changed. 

Thinking of her mission, she had been thinking that it must be serious if they were only sending her in, not even with another operative? Especially when they’d only just finished a recruitment drive. It was prime time to take a green leaf out. Something already felt off. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle though. Did she really want to think like that? She shook off that too, instead enjoying the silence and the absence of a yammering youth in her ear, bragging about being all that. That silence was music to her ears. 

As quickly as she had sat down to eat, she was gone. Only an empty bowl and cup remained. Not a trace.

[hr]

It hadn’t been easy to climb to the rooftop of her mark’s warehouse. Anyone else would have found it an impossible task, but she was small and lithe enough to manage - her perfect balance allowed her to shimmy across the rusting pipe that led her around the corner - the tiny space between this warehouse and the next was even a squeeze for her. Patience, and steady movements took her to an airflow vent and finally she was inside. 

As she moved through the vent, she worked over the facts in her head. This was a dangerous gangster of Omega, trying to rise as some Lord of the Slums. A dangerous biotic who was required for questioning by Cerberus. There had to be more to it than that though, didn’t there? It excited her, a tingle of adrenaline in her chest that was accompanied by a smirk. Maybe there would be a fight? It had been a long time since she’d had a good fight, she was practically itching for it. Hopefully the mark would have some alien cronies of some kind that she could put a bullet between the eyes of. Oh how she loved to make a threatening entrance. The spectre in the shadows punching down her foes without so much as being seen.

This warehouse was silent though, absolutely dead and it was at least midday. Odette’s brow furrowed, each opening of the tunnel gave her the opportunity to peak into the rooms -- and she hadn’t seen a soul so far, only glimpses at any signs that it at least [i]was[/i] occupied usually. A half filled cup on a table and a chair pulled out as if they’d been dragged away suddenly. Magazines, bundled clothing in corners. “Where are you?” she mused aloud, narrowing her eyes as she continued through the air duct. 

Some moments later, and her next look into the warehouse gave her a peak of a backroom, set up like an office. From what she could see from behind the grate, it looked like the private quarters of a gang leader. She could lie in wait here -- suddenly, the excitement into her chest simmered down as she prepared to be waiting even for hours for the mark to return. 

Having removed the grate, she freed herself from the duct and slipped down to the floor, stretching out now that her space wasn’t constricted. 

A scan of the room was all it took to gather her information. A barred window, an obviously locked door, a desk, a bookshelf, and several inconsequential items that said nothing more than the fact that this mark felt himself to be important -- beyond a surface level, there was nothing. No photographs, no evidence of journals. The lack of evidence was evidence in and of itself. It said that he was careful, that he was taking no chances in someone getting into his office and finding anything. Whether that was just the authorities, or whether it was someone more sinister - like her, was anyone’s guess. He was either the most boring mark in the history of her work, or as interesting as she had initially thought. 

Above the desk was a small platform for the lighting that was practically made for her to climb and hide into. After fitting the grate back onto the duct, that’s exactly what Odette did. 

Now all the infiltrator could do was wait.