Earlier, on the Citadel...
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"...So how strong is he?"
The informant stared at the Turian in front of her in complete disbelief. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? He's a Spectre!" She hissed the last word at him, as if to not draw attention. "These are the council's Elite, and he's a high ranking one. You've been in special units, you know what I'm talking about."
"Yeeess... But how strong is he?"
The Asari almost lunged at her conversation partner, taking visible effort to stop herself. The Turian's even gaze at her face unnerved her. He picked at his teeth with a finger. She heard a slight crinkling sound, and her cape slowly slid off her shoulders, her brooch falling onto the floor, cut in half. Her eyes widened.
"You see, I have seen Spectres in action, before." His even, machine-like voice, emanating from his mouth as the rest of his face was completely immobile, seemed to fill the room. "They may have the best training, an almost unlimited budget. But they are mortal. This is boring. You cannot pay me as much as you offer for such a boring target."
The informant opened her mouth to speak. She couldn't, for some reason.
"So I figure there's something you're not telling me." He continued. "And by putting two and two together, I also figure this information would make me safer, but endanger you, and maybe even your boss. And he knows best that what makes a mission successful is not only the agent's skill, but the intelligence they receive. Especially that."
"That - " she finally seemed to regain her voice, "That's gonna cost you."
"Cut my pay in half. Speak. Now."
"He's ah... He's no longer entirely Turian."
"What?"
The informant wiped her brow with her hand, and focused her entire willpower on looking the mercenary in the eyes again. "He's been doing... strange missions, getting with strange people. We have had reports of him being attacked. If these reports are true, he should be dead seven times over. But he persists. And look at his eyes - " she pushed a picture towards him.
"Beautiful eyes. Extremely lucky guy. What's your point?"
She sneered at him as she took the picture back. "The point is we have no idea what he is anymore. He's showing up weird on scanners. He survives deadly wounds. This is no longer only about him."
"So do you want to dissect him or what?"
"Maybe. None of your business."
"Fine. And I am to work with a team on this? To take down this one Turian-or-whatever he is? Who are they?"
She smiled at him, back in her zone again. "That's, yeah, that's gonna cost you."
The Turian made a weird face, then rose to his feet. "I accept. Food's on you." He said dismissively, his back already turned to her as he left the cafe`. "Say hi to your boss from me."
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Dawnbreaker, Medbay, Present Time
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Orisa found the ship's medbay in what they call a "new" condition, or in other words the kind of mess that only one who knows nothing about medicine can make. She would already plan in her mind the right location for all equipment and supplies when she heard the door slide shut behind her.
"Do not be alarmed." she heard a hoarse voice near her ear, with the typical metallic undertones of a Turian. "This is a test." A long, strange-looking knife appeared out of thin air in front of her face, attached to an arm that seemed to lead behind her. "We will play hostage and terrorist, see how the team reacts. I have chosen you, Doctor, because you wouldn't have time for this bullshit anyway. Come."
A slight pressure at the small of her back urged her forward, towards the desk and away from the door. And when it slid open a few minutes later, the Captain found his Medical Officer in the long arms of a strange Turian, knife-point at her throat. The Turian stared at the human silently, awaiting his next move.
