Effects Of A Gamer Chapter 7

The Zakera Ward morning shift began like any other—the artificial day cycle brightening gradually across the massive ward arm, illuminating the sleek metal and glass of the commercial district. Inside C-Sec headquarters, officers of various species moved with practiced efficiency, the soft hum of conversation punctuated by the occasional beep of terminals and the whirr of doors sliding open and closed.

Arthur Morrigan stood at the equipment locker, methodically checking his gear—a ritual he'd developed over the past three months since that first successful case with Lieutenant Vakarian. His fingers moved with practiced precision over his modified M-3 Predator, the weapon humming with latent energy as his omni-tool scanned it for any imperfections.

"Still obsessing over that gun?" Santana asked, approaching from behind. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her C-Sec uniform fit more comfortably now than it had when they'd first arrived. "You know, most people just grab their gear and go."

Arthur smiled, holstering the weapon with a smooth motion. "Most people don't understand what they're carrying. A weapon is an extension of yourself—it should be treated accordingly."

"Poetic," Santana replied with a roll of her eyes, though there was fondness in her voice. "Vakarian wants us in briefing room three in five minutes. Says he's got something interesting."

As they walked through the bustling operations center, Arthur noted the subtle changes in how other officers regarded them. Gone were the suspicious glances and whispered comments about the "human rookies." Now there were nods of acknowledgment, even respect. Three months of successful operations had a way of changing perceptions.

The briefing room was smaller than most, designed for specialized team meetings rather than department-wide announcements. Lieutenant Castis Vakarian stood at the front, his mandibles tight against his face in what Arthur had come to recognize as his "focused" expression. Holographic displays flickered around him, showing crime scene photos and data streams.

"Officer Morrigan, Officer Reyes," Vakarian acknowledged as they entered. "Take a seat. We have a situation in the financial district."

Arthur settled into a chair, the material cool against his back as he leaned forward slightly, eyes already scanning the displayed information with enhanced perception. "Another bank security breach?"

"No," Vakarian replied, his dual-toned voice resonating in the small space. "Something more concerning. Three volus financial advisors have disappeared in the past week. No signs of struggle, no ransom demands, just... gone."

Santana frowned, her brow furrowing as she studied the images. "Volus are usually pretty cautious. Hard to get the drop on them."

"Precisely why this is unusual," Vakarian agreed, mandibles flexing slightly. "The last victim, Kon Bilax, was a senior partner at Elkoss Combined Investments. His pressure suit's emergency beacon was activated briefly near the Bachjret Ward junction before going offline."

Arthur's mind was already racing, connecting patterns and possibilities with superhuman speed. "The previous disappearances—any connection to Elkoss?"

"That's what I want you two to find out," Vakarian said, sending the case files to their omni-tools with a flick of his wrist. "You've both shown aptitude for investigation work. Consider this your first official patrol assignment without direct supervision."

Santana straightened, unable to hide her excitement despite her professional demeanor. "Thank you, sir. We won't let you down."

"See that you don't," Vakarian replied, though Arthur detected a hint of approval in his subharmonics. "I'll be available if you need guidance, but I expect you to handle this independently." His eyes lingered on Arthur for a moment longer than necessary, that calculating gaze that still made Arthur feel like he was being dissected. "Especially you, Morrigan. Time to show us what you can really do."

The implication was clear—Vakarian suspected Arthur had been holding back. And he wasn't entirely wrong.

As they exited the briefing room, Santana bumped Arthur's shoulder with her own, her voice low and excited. "First real patrol assignment. No training wheels."

"About time," Arthur replied, already mentally mapping their investigation route. "We've more than proven ourselves."

"Speaking of which," Santana said, her tone shifting to something more serious as they approached the transit station, "Jason's been assigned to general crime duty. Seems our combat-happy friend impressed Captain T'Lani enough to get field clearance."

Arthur nodded, unsurprised. Jason had always been more suited to direct action than investigative work. "Good for him. The wards could use more officers who can handle themselves in a fight."

They boarded a C-Sec patrol skycar, the vehicle humming to life as Santana took the controls. As they pulled away from headquarters and merged into the busy traffic lanes of the Citadel, Arthur gazed out at the vast, gleaming metropolis that had become his hunting ground. Three months of careful positioning, of strategic demonstrations of his abilities, had earned him a place at the heart of C-Sec's investigative division.

Now it was time to stop holding back.

The financial district of Bachjret Ward gleamed with polished surfaces and elegant architecture, a stark contrast to the utilitarian designs prevalent in other areas of the Citadel. As Arthur and Santana approached Elkoss Combined Investments, the building rose before them—a towering structure of glass and metal that reflected the artificial sunlight in dazzling patterns.

"Impressive," Santana murmured, craning her neck to take in the full height of the building. "Volus don't do anything small when it comes to money."

Inside, they were greeted by a nervous-looking volus receptionist, his breathing apparatus hissing rhythmically as he spoke. "Officers, hiss thank you for coming so quickly. hiss The board is most concerned about Partner Bilax's disappearance."

"We'll need to see his office and speak with anyone who worked closely with him," Arthur said, his voice carrying the quiet authority he'd cultivated over the past months.

The receptionist led them through a series of security checkpoints, each more sophisticated than the last, until they reached the executive level. Bilax's office was spacious and meticulously organized, with a spectacular view of the Citadel's arms stretching out into the nebula beyond.

"No signs of struggle," Santana noted, scanning the room with her omni-tool. "Everything's in perfect order."

Arthur moved to the desk, his enhanced senses picking up details that would escape normal observation. A faint scent lingered in the air—something chemical but subtle. The desk terminal was in sleep mode, not powered down. And most tellingly, a small data drive was missing from a charging port, leaving behind a rectangular outline in the dust.

"He was interrupted while working," Arthur said, pointing to the empty space. "Recently enough that no one's cleaned the desk since."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Dust patterns," Arthur replied simply, already moving to access the terminal. His fingers flew over the interface, bypassing security measures with practiced ease. Information scrolled across the screen faster than a normal human could process, but Arthur absorbed it all, his enhanced cognition sorting and categorizing the data.

"He was working on something called Project Umbra," Arthur said after a moment. "Heavily encrypted, but it appears to be related to a new financial instrument for high-risk investments in the Terminus Systems."

Santana frowned. "That doesn't sound like something worth kidnapping over."

"Unless it's a cover for something else," Arthur countered, downloading the data to his omni-tool for later analysis. "Let's speak with his colleagues."

The interviews with Bilax's coworkers revealed little of substance—he was well-respected, meticulous, and had no known enemies. But when they spoke to his assistant, a young asari named Liara T'Seri, Arthur noticed a subtle tension in her posture, a flickering of her eyes that suggested she was holding something back.

"Miss T'Seri," Arthur said gently after Santana had concluded her formal questions, "is there something else you think we should know about Partner Bilax? Something perhaps not related to his work?"

The asari hesitated, her fingers twisting together nervously. "I... I shouldn't say. It's not relevant."

"Let us decide what's relevant," Santana pressed, her tone firm but not unkind.

T'Seri sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "Partner Bilax was... seeing someone. Romantically. He was very private about it, but I scheduled their meetings. Always at the same restaurant in the Kithoi Ward, always under a false name."

Arthur's interest sharpened. "Who was this person?"

"I don't know," T'Seri admitted. "I never saw them. But..." she lowered her voice, "the reservations were always in areas reserved for quarians. Special filtration systems, sterilized utensils."

Arthur and Santana exchanged glances. A volus-quarian relationship was unusual enough to raise eyebrows, but not necessarily suspicious. Still, it was their first real lead.

"The restaurant's name?" Santana asked, omni-tool ready.

"The Azure Nebula," T'Seri replied. "Very exclusive. Very discreet."

As they left Elkoss Combined Investments, Arthur's mind was already racing ahead, plotting their next moves. The pieces didn't fit together yet, but he could sense the outline of something larger than a simple disappearance.

"What are you thinking?" Santana asked as they returned to their skycar, the doors hissing closed around them.

"I'm thinking we need to visit the Azure Nebula," Arthur replied, "and I'm thinking we should look into the other missing volus. I suspect we'll find similar patterns."

Santana nodded, programming the coordinates into the vehicle's navigation system. "And if we do?"

Arthur's expression hardened, a cold determination settling over his features. "Then we've got a serial kidnapper targeting volus financiers with specific connections. And I intend to find out why."

The Azure Nebula was everything its name suggested—an elegant establishment bathed in soft blue lighting that mimicked the cosmic phenomenon. The maitre d', a dignified turian with elaborate facial markings, regarded them with professional politeness that cooled noticeably when they identified themselves as C-Sec.

"We're investigating a missing person case," Arthur explained, his voice pitched to carry just the right amount of authority. "We need information about one of your regular patrons."

The turian's mandibles tightened against his face. "The Azure Nebula prides itself on discretion, Officers. Our clients expect their privacy to be respected."

Arthur stepped closer, his voice dropping to a level only the turian could hear. "And I'm sure they also expect not to disappear without a trace. Three volus financiers are missing. One of them dined here regularly. Unless you want C-Sec forensics teams disrupting your dinner service, I suggest you cooperate."

The threat was delivered with such calm certainty that the maitre d' visibly reconsidered his position. "Very well. What do you need to know?"

"Kon Bilax," Santana said, showing the volus's image on her omni-tool. "He had regular reservations in your quarian section."

The turian checked his records, mandibles flexing in surprise. "Yes, twice monthly for the past year. Always the same private booth, always with the same companion."

"And this companion was a quarian?" Arthur pressed.

"Yes, female. She used the name Tali'Nara vas Neema, though whether that was her real name..." he shrugged, the gesture distinctly turian in its fluid grace.

Arthur felt a jolt of recognition at the name—not because he knew this particular quarian, but because the name structure was familiar from the games. 'Tali' was almost certainly an alias, chosen perhaps because it was a common quarian name.

"We'll need to see the booth," Arthur said, his tone making it clear this wasn't a request.

The maitre d' led them to a secluded area of the restaurant, separated from the main dining room by privacy screens. The booth itself was designed to accommodate species with environmental suits—specialized air filtration, sterilized surfaces, and a sophisticated sound dampening system.

"They could discuss anything here without being overheard," Santana noted, running her hand along the booth's edge.

Arthur activated his omni-tool, scanning for residual evidence. His enhanced senses detected what the device could not—minute traces of an unusual compound on the table's surface, almost completely cleaned away but not quite.

"Something was exchanged here," he said quietly. "Something physical, not just information."

"How can you tell?" Santana asked, her expression skeptical.

Rather than explain his enhanced abilities, Arthur pointed to barely visible marks on the table's surface. "Pressure indentations. Something heavy was placed here repeatedly, in the same spot. And there's residue consistent with sterilization procedures more thorough than standard restaurant protocol."

Santana studied the spot, her eyes narrowing. "I don't see... wait." She leaned closer. "You're right. But I would have missed it completely."

"It's subtle," Arthur acknowledged, though in truth it had been obvious to his enhanced perception. "Let's check the security feeds."

The restaurant's security system was sophisticated but not impenetrable. With Santana distracting the manager, Arthur accessed the system through a maintenance panel, his fingers moving with blurring speed as he bypassed encryption protocols that would have stymied most C-Sec tech specialists. Within minutes, he had located footage of Bilax's last visit, three days before his disappearance.

The video showed the volus and a quarian female in a distinctive purple enviro-suit, sitting in the private booth. Their body language suggested familiarity, perhaps even intimacy, but what caught Arthur's attention was the small package that changed hands—from the quarian to the volus, quickly tucked away inside his suit.

"We need to identify that quarian," Arthur said as they left the restaurant, the afternoon crowd beginning to fill the nearby walkways. "And check if the other missing volus had similar contacts."

Santana nodded, already making notes on her omni-tool. "I'll pull their financial records, see if they frequented similar establishments. What about you?"

Arthur's expression was grim, determination hardening his features. "I'm going to find out where Bilax's emergency beacon was last activated. If someone's targeting volus with quarian connections, there's more happening here than random disappearances."

"You think it's organized?" Santana asked, concern etching lines around her eyes.

"I think," Arthur replied, his voice dropping to ensure privacy, "that we're looking at the edge of something much larger. And I intend to tear it wide open."

The next three weeks passed in a blur of intense investigation. Arthur shed the last of his self-imposed limitations, working with a speed and efficiency that left even Santana—who had grown accustomed to his exceptional abilities—occasionally stunned. They discovered that all three missing volus had connections to quarians, all were involved in financial operations that touched the Terminus Systems, and all had disappeared without obvious signs of struggle.

The breakthrough came when Arthur tracked Bilax's emergency beacon signal to an abandoned processing facility in the lower levels of Zakera Ward. What they found there changed everything.

"C-Sec! Nobody move!" Arthur shouted as they burst through the facility's main entrance, his modified Predator drawn and humming with deadly potential.

Inside, a scene of industrial-scale criminality unfolded before them—a dozen volus, including the three missing financiers, connected to medical equipment that was extracting something from their pressure suits. Batarian and vorcha guards scrambled for weapons, while a salarian in a lab coat frantically tried to delete data from a terminal.

"Down on the ground! Now!" Santana ordered, her shotgun trained on the nearest batarian.

Instead of complying, the batarian snarled and opened fire, the harsh crack of his assault rifle echoing in the cavernous space. Arthur moved with inhuman speed, pushing Santana behind cover while returning fire with devastating accuracy. His modified Predator punched through the batarian's shields as if they weren't there, dropping him with a clean headshot that left a smoking hole where his upper right eye had been.

"Call for backup!" Arthur shouted to Santana, already moving to flank the remaining guards.

What followed was a display of combat prowess that would later become legendary within C-Sec. Arthur flowed through the battlefield like water, each movement precise and devastatingly effective. Two vorcha charged him with serrated blades—he dropped the first with a shot to the knee, then executed a perfect spinning kick that sent the second crashing into a stack of crates. A batarian tried to ambush him from behind—Arthur sensed the attack without looking, ducked under the swing, and drove his elbow into the attacker's throat with bone-crushing force.

"Arthur, behind you!" Santana called out, firing her shotgun to keep the remaining guards pinned down.

Arthur spun to see the salarian scientist fleeing toward a rear exit, clutching a data drive. Without hesitation, he channeled his biotic energy, the air around his hand shimmering with purple-blue light. With a gesture that seemed almost casual, he created a singularity directly in the salarian's path. The scientist was lifted helplessly into the air, limbs flailing as he was caught in the swirling gravitational vortex.

By the time C-Sec backup arrived, the battle was already over. Seven hostile combatants neutralized, the captive volus secured, and the entire operation documented in meticulous detail. The salarian scientist, still shaken from his encounter with Arthur's biotics, was singing like a bird.

"It's a new designer drug," Arthur explained to Lieutenant Vakarian as forensics teams processed the scene. "They're extracting trace elements from volus metabolic filters and combining them with quarian antibiotics to create something called 'Float'—supposedly gives the user a sensation of weightlessness and euphoria."

Vakarian's mandibles tightened in disgust. "And the quarian connection?"

"The quarians were supplying the antibiotics, though it's unclear if they knew the full purpose," Santana added, scrolling through data on her omni-tool. "The volus were investment bankers because they needed subjects with high-end pressure suits—better filtration systems mean more of the base compound."

Vakarian nodded slowly, his predatory eyes scanning the facility before returning to Arthur. "Impressive work, both of you. But especially you, Morrigan." His subharmonics carried a note of something like suspicion mixed with reluctant admiration. "Seven armed hostiles, and you took them down without breaking a sweat. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Arthur met the turian's gaze steadily. "I've been holding back, sir. I didn't want to draw too much attention too quickly. But I'm tired of playing it safe while criminals operate freely on the Citadel."

For a long moment, Vakarian studied him, mandibles working slightly as if he were considering his next words carefully. Finally, he nodded. "No more holding back then, Officer Morrigan. Let's see what you can really do."

Over the next months, Arthur Morrigan became a force of nature within C-Sec. No longer constrained by the need to appear merely exceptional rather than extraordinary, he threw himself into his work with superhuman dedication and efficiency. Criminals across the Citadel began to whisper about the human officer who seemed to be everywhere at once, whose combat skills were matched only by his uncanny ability to unravel even the most complex criminal enterprises.

Working primarily with Santana and occasionally with Lieutenant Vakarian, Arthur dismantled criminal operations with surgical precision. His reputation grew with each successful case, and even officers who had initially regarded humans with suspicion found themselves impressed by his results.

In a dingy warehouse in Tayseri Ward, Arthur crouched behind a stack of crates, his breathing calm and measured despite the gunfire erupting around him. Beside him, Santana checked her shotgun's thermal clip, her face grim in the dim emergency lighting.

"Remind me again why we didn't wait for backup?" she muttered, flinching as a round pinged off the metal just above her head.

Arthur's lips curved in a slight smile. "Because by the time backup arrived, they'd have moved the shipment. Besides," he added, peeking around the corner to assess the opposition, "there are only eight of them."

"Only eight," Santana repeated with a snort. "Armed Eclipse mercenaries with military-grade weapons. No big deal."

"Exactly," Arthur replied, his tone so matter-of-fact that Santana couldn't help but laugh despite the danger.

He unclipped a small device from his belt—one of his own creations, a compact drone with advanced combat protocols. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it skimming across the floor toward the mercenaries' position.

"Cover me on three," he said, already gathering biotic energy that made the air around him shimmer with latent power. "One, two..."

On "three," the drone activated, unleashing a disorienting flash-bang effect that sent the mercenaries reeling. Arthur vaulted over the crates, his body wreathed in biotic energy as he charged into the fray. His modified Predator barked twice, dropping two mercenaries before they could recover. A third swung at him with a shock baton—Arthur caught the man's wrist, twisted with precise force, and used the mercenary's own momentum to throw him into his companions.

Santana provided covering fire, her shotgun booming in the enclosed space as she methodically eliminated targets from her protected position. Between her suppressive fire and Arthur's whirlwind of biotic and physical combat, the Eclipse mercenaries never stood a chance.

"Clear!" Arthur called after the last mercenary fell, his breathing only slightly elevated despite the intense exertion.

Santana emerged from cover, surveying the scene with a mixture of awe and exasperation. "Eight heavily armed mercenaries in under two minutes. You know that's not normal, right?"

Arthur shrugged, already moving to examine the shipment they'd been guarding—a cache of illegal weapons bound for the Terminus Systems. "Efficiency is important in our line of work."

"Efficiency," Santana echoed, shaking her head as she called in their success. "That's one word for it."

This pattern repeated itself across the Citadel as Arthur systematically targeted the station's criminal element. A smuggling ring operating out of Zakera Ward, moving red sand through diplomatic channels? Dismantled in a week of intensive investigation and a raid that left the ringleaders in custody. An organ harvesting operation targeting newly arrived refugees? Exposed and shut down after Arthur connected seemingly unrelated disappearances across three wards.

When an assassination plot against the asari Councilor was uncovered, it was Arthur who pieced together the fragmented intelligence, identifying a Terminus Systems separatist group as the culprits and tracking their operative to a luxury hotel in the Presidium. The would-be assassin was in custody before they could even assemble their sniper rifle, and Councilor Tevos was never in actual danger.

Throughout it all, Arthur maintained a professional demeanor that revealed little of his true nature. To his colleagues, he was dedicated, brilliant, and occasionally intimidating in his competence, but still fundamentally human. Only Santana, who worked with him daily, began to suspect the truth—that whatever Arthur Morrigan was, "normal human" didn't quite cover it.

"How do you do it?" she asked him one evening as they filed reports on their latest case, the office around them quiet as the night cycle settled over the Citadel. "It's not just training. No one trains to do what you do."

Arthur paused in his typing, considering his response carefully. "I see patterns others miss," he said finally, offering a partial truth. "Connections between seemingly unrelated events. And I don't let anything stand in the way of justice."

Santana studied him for a long moment, her dark eyes thoughtful. "There's more to it than that. But I've watched you put yourself between civilians and danger too many times to think whatever it is could be bad." She returned to her report, adding quietly, "Just know that whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."

The moment of vulnerability passed quickly, but it left Arthur with a warm feeling he hadn't expected. For all his enhanced abilities and strategic planning, he hadn't accounted for genuine friendship developing with his colleagues. It was a complication, but not an unwelcome one.

Four months into his C-Sec career, Arthur stood before Lieutenant Vakarian's desk, hands clasped behind his back as he made his request.

"Access to the armory? For what purpose?" Vakarian asked, mandibles flexing slightly in curiosity.

"Improvements," Arthur replied simply. "I've noticed inefficiencies in our standard equipment that could be addressed with relatively minor modifications. Better heat sinks for the standard sidearms, reinforced weak points in the body armor, more responsive shield emitters."

Vakarian leaned back in his chair, studying Arthur with those predatory eyes that seemed to miss nothing. "You're an engineer as well as a combat specialist?"

"I have diverse interests," Arthur said with a slight smile. "And I've always had a knack for understanding how things work—and how they could work better. You've seen my gun."

After a moment's consideration, Vakarian nodded. "Very well. I'll authorize limited access to the armory's maintenance facilities. But I want detailed documentation of any modifications you make, and they'll need to be approved before implementation."

"Of course, sir," Arthur agreed, already mentally cataloging the improvements he planned to make.

The armory became Arthur's second home over the following weeks. He spent every free moment there, his fingers dancing over weapon components, omni-tool scanning and projecting schematics as he worked. The armory staff initially regarded him with suspicion, but as they witnessed his skill and the effectiveness of his modifications, their attitude shifted to one of grudging respect and eventually outright admiration.

"Never seen anyone strip down and reassemble a Striker that fast," commented Sergeant Kryik, the turian armory chief, as he watched Arthur work. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Self-taught," Arthur replied, focusing on the delicate calibration of the weapon's mass accelerator. "I find it relaxing."

Kryik's mandibles flared in the turian equivalent of a surprised laugh. "Relaxing. Right." He shook his head, but there was no mistaking the approval in his subharmonics.

Arthur's modifications began small—improved heat sinks that extended firing time by 15%, reinforced armor joints that maintained mobility while eliminating vulnerable spots, shield emitters recalibrated for faster recharge rates. Each change was meticulously documented and submitted for approval, each improvement proven effective in field tests.

As his reputation grew, so did the scope of his work. Officers began specifically requesting "Morrigan modifications" for their equipment. Even some of the turian veterans, initially the most skeptical of the human officers, found themselves impressed by the tangible improvements to their gear.

With each successful modification, Arthur's [Armsmith Ascendant] trait grew stronger, his understanding of weapons technology deepening until he could intuitively grasp the function and potential of any firearm he touched. He was careful not to push too far too fast—creating weapons that were too advanced might raise questions he couldn't answer—but the steady progression of improvements kept his skills advancing at a satisfying rate.

Six months after joining C-Sec, Arthur stood in the armory surrounded by his work—dozens of modified weapons, improved armor sets, and enhanced shield generators. The familiar scent of gun oil and metal shavings filled his nostrils, a comforting aroma that had become as natural to him as breathing. His fingertips tingled with the memory of countless calibrations, each minute adjustment bringing him closer to perfection.

His [Armsmith Ascendant] trait had reached its maximum level, granting him mastery over weapon design that transcended even the most renowned gunsmiths in the galaxy. He could feel the weapons now, sense their potential humming beneath his touch like living things waiting to be awakened.

While he deliberately restrained himself from pushing the C-Sec weapons to their deadliest potential—knowing the catastrophic consequences if a corrupt officer acquired such firepower—the armory had transformed under his care. Each officer's sidearm had become a precision instrument, balanced and responsive in a way that made their previous equipment feel like children's toys. Better to give them reliability than raw power, he reminded himself, a mantra that quieted the part of him that constantly whispered: more, better, stronger.

The C-Sec armory now housed near-works of art—functional beauty that officers spoke about in reverent tones when they thought he couldn't hear.

[Armsmith Ascendant] – Level 30/30 (MAXED)

"You don’t carry weapons. You forge legends."

You have mastered the design, creation, and modification of handheld weaponry across every known style, and even several unknown.

Current Capabilities at Max Rank:

• Total Weapon Mastery: You can craft or enhance any handheld weapon:

  • Ballistics: Custom pistols, rifles, shotguns, sniper systems

  • Energy: Plasma casters, laser weapons, ion rifles

  • Bladed: Monomolecular edge blades, vibroblades, collapsible swords

  • Blunt: Shock batons, grav-hammers, alloy war clubs

  • Hybrid: Blade-gun fusions, thermally-charged swords, guns that fire biotic-laced rounds

• Soulbound Weapons: Forge weapons attuned to your biometrics and mental signature—usable only by you, growing in power as you do.

• Intelligent Ammunition Systems: Create programmable ammo that adapts mid-combat—explosive, corrosive, tracking, or even anti-shield/biotic disrupting rounds.

• Spectre-Grade Fabrication: Your weapons rival or exceed those issued to Spectres. You may embed AI into your weapons for battlefield awareness and support.

• On-the-Fly Creation: Using your HUD and omni-tools, you can fabricate or reconfigure weapons in the field, using modular materials and local elements.

• Reaper-Tech Integration: Reverse-engineer Reaper material to form ultra-dense or self-repairing weaponry. Biotic-channeling swords. Phasic disintegration rounds.

But it wasn't enough. As he completed one particularly challenging modification to a sniper rifle's targeting system, a new idea began to form in his mind. C-Sec officers often worked alone or in small teams, facing potentially overwhelming opposition. What if they had support that didn't require additional personnel?

The concept of tactical drones wasn't new—the Alliance and other militaries used them extensively—but Arthur envisioned something more sophisticated. Autonomous support units that could adapt to changing battlefield conditions, provide medical assistance, or serve as mobile cover. And beneath that, at the microscale level, nanites that could repair damage to equipment or even provide emergency medical treatment. And just like that….

[Nanotech & Drone Crafter] – Level 1/10

"One drone today. A swarm tomorrow."

You’ve just begun exploring the field of nanotechnology and autonomous drone construction. Your knowledge is basic but functional—enough to fabricate rudimentary support systems and lay the foundation for more advanced constructs.

Current Capabilities at Level 1:

• Basic Drone Crafting: You can create a single-function drone using salvaged or omni-gel components. Options include:

  • A light Recon Drone (short-range scouting and environmental scan)

  • A compact Repair Drone (minor armor and tool patch-ups)

• Basic Nanotech Application: You understand the principles of nanomachines well enough to deploy nano-repair packs that assist in sealing wounds or fixing light gear in the field.

• Omni-Tool Sync: Your creations can sync with your omni-tool for direct command, limited to one active drone or nano system at a time.

• Construction Time: Simple drones can be crafted during downtime or in safe zones; field assembly is slow and resource-intensive.

🧪 At higher levels, you’ll unlock weaponized nanite clouds, swarm-capable drones, and the ability to field multiple autonomous systems with combat AI, hacking tools, and stealth modules.

For weeks, he worked in secret, developing prototypes in his quarters before bringing the more refined versions to the armory for testing. The work was challenging even with his enhanced abilities, pushing the boundaries of his knowledge and the available technology. But gradually, with enough study and levels his vision took shape as did his levels in the skill rise…..

[Nanotech & Drone Crafter] – Level 5/10

"You don’t send help—you build it, swarm it, or let it rebuild itself."

You have developed a robust understanding of microscale fabrication and autonomous robotics. Through advanced nanotech design and drone crafting, you can create tools, support units, and weapons that adapt, self-repair, and operate without supervision.

Current Capabilities at Level 5:

• Microfabrication Mastery: Construct nanomachines capable of repairing gear, sealing wounds, or infiltrating enemy tech on a microscopic scale.

• Drone Blueprint Library: You can build and deploy a range of tactical drones:

  • Combat Drones: Lightly armed AI-controlled support fire

  • Recon Drones: Stealth-capable, capable of live feed and battlefield mapping

  • Repair Drones: Omni-tool linked bots that can fix armor, weapons, or vehicles in real-time

• Swarm Coordination Protocols: Nanites and drones operate under coordinated logic trees—automating support, harassment, or defense without micromanagement.

• Field Deployment: You can fabricate limited-use drones and nanite packs mid-mission using omni-gel and scavenged components.

• Interface Integration: Drones and nanites sync with your HUD and suit systems—improving situational awareness, environmental diagnostics, and threat analysis.

At higher levels, you’ll be able to build self-replicating nanite clouds, hardlight drone constructs, and weaponized nanobot swarms capable of stripping armor or infecting synthetic systems.

The breakthrough came when he successfully integrated a miniaturized fabrication unit into a drone chassis, allowing it to produce simple nanite swarms for specific tasks. The first field test—a demonstration for Lieutenant Vakarian and Captain T'Lani—left both officers visibly impressed.

"The drone detected Officer Kryik's simulated injury," Arthur explained as they watched the recording, "deployed a nanite swarm that sealed the wound, administered a localized anesthetic, and monitored his vital signs until medical assistance arrived."

"And these nanites," T'Lani asked, her asari features composed but her eyes sharp with interest, "they're programmable for different scenarios?"

Arthur nodded, bringing up a holographic display of the nanite architecture. "They're task-specific and limited in duration—they break down into harmless compounds after completing their assigned function. Safety was a primary concern in the design."

Vakarian's mandibles flexed thoughtfully. "Mass production costs?"

"Higher than standard equipment initially," Arthur admitted, "but the versatility and potential for saving lives justify the investment. And I've designed them to be manufactured using existing C-Sec fabrication facilities with minimal retooling."

The approval came through faster than Arthur had anticipated. Within weeks, his drones and nanite systems were being integrated into C-Sec's equipment roster, first for special tactical teams and then more broadly as production scaled up.

What he hadn't expected was the broader interest his creations would generate. Requests for information came from various sources—the Salarian Union, Turian Hierarchy, even private corporations like Elkoss Combine. Arthur deflected most inquiries, citing C-Sec protocols, but he recognized the potential complications his innovations might create. To protect his designs from unauthorized replication, he implemented sophisticated black box systems and filed patents through C-Sec's legal department, ensuring his technology remained under his control.

By the six-month mark of his C-Sec career, Arthur Morrigan had transformed from a promising rookie to a central figure in the organization's technological advancement. His weapons modifications were standard issue for many divisions, his drone and nanite systems were revolutionizing field operations, and his reputation had spread far beyond the confines of C-Sec headquarters.

All according to plan.

The Citadel Council's private meeting chamber was a stark contrast to the grand, theatrical space where they conducted public business. Here, away from the cameras and diplomatic observers, the three most powerful individuals in the galaxy could speak freely, their words secured by state-of-the-art privacy measures.

Councilor Tevos sat at the head of the polished table, her asari features composed in their usual diplomatic mask, though a hint of tension showed around her eyes. To her right, Councilor Valern's salarian quickness was evident even in repose, his large eyes blinking rapidly as he processed information on multiple datapads simultaneously. Councilor Sparatus, the turian representative, maintained a military posture even while seated, his mandibles held tight against his face in what his colleagues recognized as his "strategic assessment" expression.

"Let's dispense with the formalities," Tevos began, her melodious voice filling the chamber. "We've already addressed the routine matters. What we're really here to discuss is the human C-Sec officer, Arthur Morrigan."

Valern nodded, setting aside his datapads to focus fully on the conversation. "Six months since his arrival. In that time: six smuggling rings dismantled, three organ harvesting operations shut down, one assassination attempt prevented—yours, specifically," he added with a glance at Tevos. "Unprecedented efficiency for any officer, let alone a newcomer to the Citadel."

"Not to mention his technological contributions," Sparatus added, activating a holographic display that showed footage of Arthur's modified weapons and drone systems in action. "C-Sec's effectiveness has increased measurably since implementing his designs. The nanite and drone technology alone represents a significant advancement."

The footage shifted to show Arthur in combat during a recent operation—moving with fluid grace through a group of batarian slavers, his biotic abilities flaring as he coordinated seamlessly with his drone support systems. The display froze on an image of Arthur standing amid the aftermath, his expression calm despite the chaos around him.

"The question," Tevos said, studying the image thoughtfully, "is what exactly the Systems Alliance sent us. This is no ordinary human."

"Special forces, perhaps?" Sparatus suggested, mandibles flexing slightly. "Their N7 program produces operatives of considerable skill."

Valern shook his head, rapid-fire blinks emphasizing his disagreement. "N7 profile doesn't match. Too public, too innovative. Special forces operate from shadows, follow established protocols. Morrigan creates new technologies, operates openly, seeks system-wide improvements rather than mission-specific advantages."

"Could he be working for their intelligence services?" Tevos asked, her fingers tracing patterns on the table's surface. "Gathering information from within C-Sec?"

"Possible but unlikely," Valern replied. "Information gathering more efficient through diplomatic channels, embedded analysts. Why send exceptional operative to perform basic functions? Waste of resource. And why improve C-Sec capabilities if goal is intelligence gathering? Counterproductive."

Sparatus leaned forward, mandibles tight against his face. "You're suggesting the Alliance doesn't know what they had? That they sent us this... exceptional individual without recognizing his value?"

"Precisely," Valern confirmed. "Humans still establishing galactic presence. Bureaucratic inefficiencies, competing priorities. Military focused on colony protection, fleet expansion. Easy for single exceptional individual to be overlooked in system prioritizing immediate strategic concerns."

Tevos considered this, her expression thoughtful. "Their loss, our gain. But we should consider the implications carefully. A human with these abilities, developing technologies our own experts struggle to understand..." She gestured to another datapad showing analysis of Arthur's nanite systems. "The salarian Science Directorate attempted to reverse-engineer his drone technology. They were unable to bypass his security measures."

"Black-boxed brilliantly," Valern admitted, a note of professional admiration in his voice. "Encryption beyond current STG protocols. Attempted recreation from observation alone failed. Core principles obscured by intentional complexity. Suggests not just technical brilliance but strategic foresight—anticipated reverse engineering attempts, designed countermeasures in advance."

"Which brings us back to our central concern," Tevos said, leaning back slightly in her chair, the movement graceful despite her evident tension. "What is he? And more importantly, what are his intentions?"

Sparatus brought up another holographic display, this one showing Arthur's service record and personal history. "His background checks are impeccable—too impeccable, perhaps." The turian councilor's mandibles twitched with suspicion as his talon traced through the glowing data. "Low level Security service on Earth, exemplary recommendations, a stint in their 'National guard' program before leaving, no criminal record, no political affiliations that raise concerns." He inhaled sharply, the sound whistling slightly through his teeth. "It's as if he appeared fully formed, precisely engineered to pass our screening processes. Every detail feels... manufactured."

The hologram cast an eerie blue glow across Sparatus's plated face as he continued to scrutinize the file. A knot of unease twisted in his gut—the instinctive wariness of a former military strategist who recognized when something was too perfect to be true.

"Have we investigated personal attachments?" Tevos asked, her melodic voice carrying a hint of calculation. Her fingers drummed thoughtfully against the polished surface of the table as her mind raced through possibilities. "Perhaps there's an asari diplomat or C-Sec officer he's formed a relationship with? Something to tie him more firmly to the Citadel than to the Alliance?" She wondered silently if emotional bonds might be leveraged—a vulnerability they could exploit to ensure his loyalty remained with them rather than his species of origin.

Valern shook his head, his large salarian eyes blinking rapidly as he processed the information. "No romantic entanglements detected through our surveillance network. Professional relationships only, though the rumor mill suggests numerous asari and female turian coworkers have expressed... physical interest." His nostrils flared slightly at the biological implications. "He maintains a close working partnership with Officer Santana Reyes—human colleague in C-Sec, but our analysis indicates purely professional interactions, despite her apparent physical attributes."

The salarian councilor's fingers danced across his datapad, bringing up additional surveillance footage. "We've observed a respectful relationship with Lieutenant Vakarian—classic mentor-student dynamic, sharing tactical knowledge. The lieutenant appears to value his technical insights." Valern's voice dropped to a more contemplative tone. "Beyond these connections, he remains remarkably... untethered. No family visits, no recreational activities with peers, no significant personal connections whatsoever. Most peculiar for a human of his age and position."

"He's isolated," Sparatus observed, mandibles flexing thoughtfully. "Focused entirely on his work. That could be useful."

"Or concerning," Tevos countered. "Isolated individuals with exceptional abilities can develop... unpredictable loyalties."

The three councilors fell silent for a moment, each contemplating the implications of Arthur Morrigan's presence on the Citadel. The only sound in the chamber was the soft hum of the environmental systems and the occasional blink of the security monitors.

"I believe," Tevos said finally, breaking the silence, "that we need to ensure this human remains an asset to the Council, not just to C-Sec or the Alliance. His abilities are too valuable to allow them to be directed solely by others."

Sparatus nodded, his military mind already considering strategic applications. "Agreed. The question is how. We can't simply appropriate an Alliance citizen without diplomatic consequences."

"We create incentives," Valern suggested, his rapid blinking indicating his mind was racing through scenarios. "Special project authorization. Access to resources beyond standard C-Sec allocation. Recognition that humans value. Path to greater authority within Citadel security structure."

"A dedicated research and development division," Tevos elaborated, warming to the idea. "Under C-Sec's umbrella but with Council oversight. Give him the resources to expand his work while keeping him firmly within our sphere of influence."

"And if the Alliance objects?" Sparatus asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Tevos smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "We remind them that Officer Morrigan was sent to serve the Citadel. We're simply ensuring he has the opportunity to serve to his full potential."

The decision made, the councilors moved on to implementation details, each already calculating how to maximize the advantage of having such an asset under their influence. None of them considered that perhaps Arthur Morrigan had his own plans—plans that extended far beyond C-Sec, the Council, or even the Alliance.

The conference room on Arcturus Station hummed with tension, the air practically vibrating with the restrained energy of the gathered military and political leaders. The stark utilitarian design of the room—all metal surfaces and practical lighting—reflected the Alliance's focus on function over form, but did nothing to soften the intensity of the discussion taking place.

Admiral Steven Hackett stood at the head of the table, his weathered face set in its customary stern expression as he surveyed the assembled personnel. The silver in his close-cropped hair caught the light as he moved, lending him an aura of distinguished authority that commanded respect without demanding it.

"Let's bring this meeting to order," he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the murmured conversations. "We're here to discuss the situation with Officer Arthur Morrigan, currently serving with C-Sec on the Citadel."

The holographic display at the center of the table activated, showing footage of Arthur in action—taking down a krogan mercenary with biotic abilities that seemed to defy conventional limitations, the singularity he created literally tearing the alien apart. The room fell silent as they watched, the brutal efficiency of the display leaving an impression even on these seasoned military personnel.

"This was from his first major case," continued Hackett, his expression grim. "Since then, he's established himself as one of C-Sec's most effective officers and has introduced technological innovations that have significantly enhanced their operational capabilities."

Captain Anderson, seated to Hackett's right, leaned forward to study the footage more closely. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the subtle lines around them deepening with concern. "Those biotic abilities exceed anything in our training programs. Even our L3 implant users can't generate that kind of focused gravitational distortion."

"And he doesn't have an implant," added Dr. Elena Chavez, the Alliance's lead biotic research specialist. Her fingers tapped nervously on her datapad as she spoke. "According to his medical records, he experienced element zero exposure during an industrial accident, but the neurological changes are... unprecedented. More extensive than anything we've documented in human biotics."

Colonel Ramirez, who had overseen the C-Sec training program, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We knew he was exceptional during training, but nothing like this. He deliberately held back during evaluations—showed just enough skill to impress without raising too many questions."

"The question isn't how we missed it," Hackett said, his tone making it clear he wasn't interested in blame assignment. "The question is what we do now. This officer has developed technologies that our own R&D divisions are struggling to understand, demonstrated combat abilities that match or exceed our N7 operatives, and is now firmly established within a Citadel institution."

The accusatory undertones in the room grew thicker, with several officers exchanging glances that clearly communicated their frustration. A rear admiral from Intelligence leaned forward, her voice sharp with barely contained anger.

"With all due respect, Admiral," the rear admiral's voice quavered with barely contained frustration, her fingers digging into the armrests of her chair. "Someone should have flagged this during the selection and training process." The scent of recycled air and tension hung heavy in the room as she continued, the bitter taste of failure evident in her tone.

"Except for the usual background checks, tests weren't even run on most of the recruits to see if they were biotic." She shook her head, the overhead lights reflecting off her polished rank insignia. How could we have been so careless? she thought, her stomach knotting with regret. "And now we have a human with strong, natural biotic talent completely out of our grasp."

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath her. "We've essentially gifted the Council with an asset that should have been directed to Alliance special projects or the N-program." This could set human advancement back years. "The political implications alone—" she continued, her mind racing through scenarios of Council leverage and lost opportunities that made her blood run cold.

"That's enough," Hackett interrupted, his voice not raised but carrying an authority that silenced the room immediately. "Pointing fingers won't change our current situation. Yes, in hindsight, Officer Morrigan should have been identified and recruited for specialized service. But we were all focused on broader concerns—establishing trade routes, securing our colonies, integrating our military protocols with Citadel expectations."

He paused, looking each person in the eye before continuing. "Now we need to determine our best course of action moving forward. The fact is, Morrigan is already on the Citadel, already making a name for himself, and already developing technologies that are being implemented by C-Sec. We can't simply recall him without significant diplomatic repercussions."

Anderson nodded, his expression thoughtful. "The Council won't want to give him up, especially now that they've seen what he can do. From their perspective, he's a human asset firmly under their influence—exactly the kind of leverage they appreciate."

"Precisely," Hackett agreed. "Which is why we need a more subtle approach. Captain Anderson, you're scheduled to visit the Citadel next month for the joint military exercises with the turian fleet. I want you to make contact with Officer Morrigan while you're there. Assess his mindset, his loyalties, and whether he might be open to a more direct role with the Alliance."

Anderson straightened slightly, accepting the assignment with a nod. "What exactly are we offering him, Admiral?"

"Whatever it takes," Hackett replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt about the importance he placed on this mission. "Commission in the Alliance Navy with appropriate rank, research facilities, budget—the works. If he's as valuable as these reports suggest, we need him working for humanity's interests, not just C-Sec's."

"And if he refuses?" asked Ramirez, voicing the concern that hung unspoken in the air.

Hackett's expression hardened slightly, the lines around his mouth deepening. "Then we maintain a cordial relationship and look for other opportunities to leverage his position. But let's be clear—having a human with his abilities and innovations working closely with the Council is not an optimal situation for the Alliance. We need him on our side, or at least not exclusively on theirs."

The meeting continued for another hour, discussing specific approaches and contingencies, but the core decision had been made. Captain Anderson would make contact, assess the situation personally, and attempt to bring Arthur Morrigan back into the Alliance fold.

As the meeting adjourned and the officers filed out, Anderson remained behind, studying the frozen image of Arthur on the display—a young man whose extraordinary abilities had somehow slipped through the cracks of Alliance attention and now found himself at the center of interstellar politics.

"Thoughts, Captain?" Hackett asked, noticing Anderson's contemplative expression.

Anderson shook his head slightly, his brow furrowed. "Just wondering what kind of man he really is. These reports tell us what he can do, but not who he is. That's what will determine whether our approach succeeds."

Hackett nodded, understanding the concern. "That's why I'm sending you, David. If anyone can get the measure of this officer, it's you."