Prologue Foreword

The Harvest has been the defining moment for every galactic civilization since the cycles began. Everything every species has accomplished culminates in this one era. Nearly every religion has its Apocalypse, its Ragnarok. These mythical apocalypses are a signpost across millennia pointing toward these few desperate months or years. Morality is often thrown aside in a desperate search for answers, weapons, solutions, anything for a chance at survival. We got lucky, if luck is what you can really call it after all that's happened. We had warning. Our cycle had a few courageous souls leading the charge from the very beginning. Most of them fell under the leadership of one person. Alicia Shepard, a human N7 operative with a strong sense of duty and unfathomable determination, got a glimpse of what was to come. This editor has drawn from Shepard's own personal logs, apparently written at the suggestion of her crew, along with the ever-present case files of Harry Dresden, an important, if somewhat mysterious, figure in one chapter of Earth's pre-spaceflight history and an essential part of this one. The editor has also pulled in other perspectives where relevant and available, including interviews with the surviving crew and a number of relevant written documents. Barring a bit of clean-up and some choices as to whose voice to use when there are two perspectives available for a single event, what follows are their words.

Media Video Feed Transcription: Meeting Regarding Potential Human Spectre Candidacy

This link"video"=. /link comes from the security archives for Arcturus Station. Nihlus met Ambassador Udina and then-Captain Anderson. I found it interesting that Shepard was almost an afterthought in all this, and yet she was in the end the only suitable candidate. Udina's reaction to Dresden is also intriguing and reflective of the polarized attitudes toward the man on Earth. Some practically worshipped him. Others wanted him dead. Must be his charming personality.

AU- Ambassador Donnel Udina

CA- Captain David Anderson

SK- Spectre Nihlus Kryik

SK: It is good that you could speak with me. Seeing one of my projects come to fruition with a minimum of gunfire has always been a rarity.

AU: And what might that be? You understand that direct Spectre attention is somewhat disconcerting, no matter the apparent positivity of your message.

SK: Of course. Spectres are rarely sent for truly diplomatic missions. However, I think you will like my offer. I have permission from the Council to consider a human for Spectre Candidacy.

CA: Interesting. What prompted the change? They have been quite firm on the issue since the previous incident with a human Spectre candidate.

SK: Captain, I'm well aware of the circumstances surrounding your rejection. Saren is an excellent operative, but he has his blind spots. The past is less important in this case. I've been a proponent of inducting a human Spectre for some time now. Collectively, you've taken remarkable strides in the last century. You seem to have a certain amount of constructive insanity as a species that I believe should be valued very highly in a Spectre.

CA: Thank you for the compliment, I think.

AU: You still haven't answered my question. Why now?

SK: The Council hasn't shared its mind with me. However, tensions in the Verge and the Terminus are rising, and there have been unsettling portents. Personally, I suspect that the Council has been told that something is going to happen and that a human Spectre will be important in ensuring our collective future somehow. You know how it is with the Sight. Whoever is the source of the information can't give much detail without invalidating their prediction.

AU: A disturbing thought. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the Council occasionally relies on prophecy, since I know that our own government does likewise.

SK: I cannot confirm or deny that statement, you know how it is.

CA: So, I assume you have candidates in mind?

SK: I do. There's one on the Citadel actually. I can never find him to speak with him. He's not military, and apparently has notable problems with authority. That would almost make me disqualify him right there, but he is a very powerful 'wizard', I believe your word is and he has experience with the type of work we do.

CA: You mean Dresden, don't you?

Udina covers his face with his hand.

SK: Yes. Despite the personality issues, he seems to be exactly what we want. Without an amp, he is nearly on par with our best mages, power-wise. He also has, if your history is correct, great skill in finding solutions to impossible problems.

AU: Of course he brings up Dresden. Absolutely not. Harry Dresden is not a viable candidate.

SK: May I ask why?

AU: He is a political shitstorm waiting to happen. The Seelie Accords hold primarily because he is not on Earth and we maintain peace with the supernatural forces in our portion of the spirit world partially by threats of bringing Dresden back. Making him a Spectre would almost certainly send at least one of the Faerie courts into an uproar, not to mention what the vampire courts or the Church would say. It's an unacceptable risk.

SK: Very well, Ambassador. I would still like to speak with him at some point. Nothing official, but someone with that level of influence interests me.

CA: Who were your other options?

SK: I had two other primary candidates, both out of your N7 program. Wei Min, who I believe the media calls "The Butcher of Torfan" is the first. The other is one Joao Ortega. You'll remember him. His unit was killed on Akuze by a thresher maw. They're both exceptional mages and very good soldiers, as you both know.

CA: They are certainly skillful, but I have serious questions about their suitability. Wei ran afoul of the Laws of Magic on that mission. She burned the base down with both batarian civilians and some of her own people inside. It was probably the only solution, but a use of magic like that marks you bad, from what I've heard. She'd be a hard sell to the White Council.

SK: And Ortega?

CA: Ortega would be a good candidate. He survived that attack by stilling the vibrations his feet made in the sand, so he could run. He's clever. It was bad luck that the maw got the rest before they could reach him. That being said, I'd have to check his last psych evaluation, see how he's dealing with the trauma of losing his unit. I know he's flagged as having some degree of PTSD. Might not be as stable as you'd like.

AU: David, while you've done an excellent job of summarizing the shortcomings of some of our best soldiers, he's left at least one potential out. The Lieutenant Commander you were looking at for your XO on the Normandy. She might be a good candidate for this.

CA: Oh yes. Nihlus, what about Shepard?

SK: Alicia Shepard?

CA: Yes, her. She is the reason that the batarians didn't take Elysium in the Skyllian Blitz. I've never seen a better fighter, and she has a mind for tactics like you wouldn't believe. She did the impossible on Elysium and lived to tell the tale.

SK: She is, to put it bluntly, a mortal human, is she not?

AU: She has no magical talent that we're aware of, nor is she a biotic.

SK: Part of the reason I was looking at humans was because you have more mages than any other race.

CA: Don't the asari—

SK: Yes, but they only become actually threatening in terms of magic later in life and it is hard to find a matriarch willing to get her hands dirty with Spectre work. Outside the Justicars, there are very few asari mages on par with White Council Wardens in combat skill and magical might. Most asari Spectres are primarily biotics. They need amps to do much heavy lifting with their magic and most find the side effects of a magical amp unacceptable.

CA: I don't follow.

SK: You have met Saren, right? He is a classic amp case. It has a tendency to damage the user's empathy.

CA: And here I thought he was just a bastard. Always something new to learn. Anyway, mage or not, I think Shepard is worth your time. I cannot overstate her determination, her skill, or her mind.

Anderson and Udina confer quietly for a few moments. Udina looks unhappy after the exchange, but nods and then turns to Spectre Kryik.

AU: Perhaps there's an agreement we can come to. If you are willing to include Shepard in your evaluations, we will make sure that Dresden will at least hear you out. You won't get the time of day from him otherwise.

SK: Agreed.

Udina offers his hand. Nihlus stares at it quizzically for a second, then clasps it.

AU: Agreed. Anderson, do you know where Dresden is?

CA: He's actually been doing some work for C-Sec these past few years. Seems to like the consulting stuff they send his way. You can get his contact information, but I'll give him a call as soon as I can, let him know to expect you.

SK: Thank you. In return, I will meet you on the Normandy when it is ready.

Harry

The only time magic gets worse is when it gets mixed with technology as an easy way out of a problem. Thankfully, most wizards and other magical types are slow on the uptake with regards to technology. Even when magic doesn't directly screw up the tech, the truly dangerous magic types are usually old and age usually comes with some dislike for the new. Apparently salarian wizards didn't get the memo. This one had apparently mixed magic and some second-rate organ cloning tech to grow organs inside people to sell on the black market, or at least that was what the investigation pointed to. Citadel Security, or rather Garrus, a turian I'd become friends with in recent years, had called me in to consult. See, I'm a wizard. You probably have some idea of what that entails, even if it isn't in your everyday life. And you owe that knowledge to some friends of mine a couple hundred years back, who decided to give plain vanilla mortals a good old dose of "knowledge is power".

"So, that's the basics of what we know," he finished, fanning the pictures out across the holographic table. "The asari who did the autopsy wasn't really able to go into detail on the magical aspect, only that there was the remnant of a spell. Why they give those jobs to maidens I'll never know." The blue-tattooed turian looked up expectantly. "Any idea how it might have been done? I assume it's possible since it happened, but is it something you've heard of?"

I shook my head. "It's not something specific I've seen, but I can work out the general concept. It's actually quite clever, and even technically within the laws of magic. You basically use the magic as anti-rejection medication for the organs you grow. What's C-Sec's angle on this, anyway?"

"Aside from the fact that making organs outside of standard channels is illegal?"

"Yes. Aside from that," I said. "You don't come to me for 'normal.' Something about this guy spooks you."

"This body, it belonged to a witness. He died right while he was in custody, before he could give us a description of the doctor involved. He started bleeding out of his everything and his organs just all shut down. Then the autopsy results. It's just a disgusting way to die."

"No argument on the disgusting." I made to wipe my face with my hand. I needed a shave. "Honestly, this isn't something I've ever been good at. You need a medical degree or two to even think about doing doctoring with magic."

"Ok, so the guy clearly has some brains in his head, even if he's a little on the mad scientist side. Is there anything else we can work out?"

"Can you get me in to see the body?" I asked, "Being able to feel the aura of the magic used will allow me to pick other victims out of a crowd and maybe even get us closer to finding the bastard who did this."

"Actually, we have a name. 'Doctor Saleon' was what the dead guy called him in my interview. Problem is, that's not a name on our records, so it's a fake. Also, it apparently means 'heart' in one dialect of Salarian, or at least that's what came up on the extranet when I did a search. His idea of a joke, I guess. Anyhow, there's an autopsy technician who I can sweet-talk into letting you have a couple minutes with the corpse. She works the morning shift, though, so we're stuck with speculation for now."

That settled that. God, I hate waiting on other people. At least I could go home and pick Bob's metaphorical brain.

The air car ride back to my apartment was uneventful aside from the thrill of being in an actual flying car that never quite went away. There were times when I really loved the future we'd gotten to.

I got back to my apartment in Zakera Ward and opened the door to a very familiar floating skull. The floating was relatively new. I'd given him a mass effect field generator as a present a couple years back.

"Bob, what have I told you about answering the door?"

"That it's totally fine when I know it's you." His eyes glowed brightly.

"Yes, that's exactly what I said, except I used the words 'never' and 'on pain of taking a hammer to you' Anyhow, I'll crush your skull later, we have work to do."

"Fine. Fire away, oh vengeful wizard, lacking in a sense of fun."

"Sorry Bob, it's for your own good, I know what C-Sec would do to an unauthorized spirit, especially one as powerful as you." And that was true. In the Nevernever, knowledge is often quite literally power. Bob had been helping mortal wizards for nearly a millennium now and had picked up a lot of knowledge. He'd nearly killed me once back in my early days (there were extenuating circumstances) and it had taken barely any effort. Either way, my threats were largely bravado. I liked the guy, annoying amoral pervert of an air spirit he might be. "I need to know how a wizard could keep extra cloned organs from being rejected."

His eyelights brightened. "That's an easy one, boss. Necromancy."

"Seriously, Bob? That's your first idea? Skipping healing and all the other nice magic and right to the dark arts?" This was getting better and better.

"Yes. Think about it. Healing the organ into place doesn't really work, because the body knows that it's already got a spleen or a heart or a pair of balls, or I guess four if it's a krogan, whatever you're trying to grow. What you have to do is basically keep the organ from dying, and that's necromancy. It's probably some of the nicest necromancy you'll find, but it is necromancy and definitely the kind that the Council back home takes a dislike to. It wouldn't work very well, either, because you're not really solving the organ rejection problem, you're just pushing back the inevitable. You'd have a limited time frame and a lot of potential for error."

"Well, there were definitely problems," I grimaced. "The guy Garrus found died because he rejected a whole bunch of organs. I guess Doctor Death left him out to dry when the organs didn't grow in right."

"Got it in one. The spell would have worn off pretty quick, even with a human body protecting it. The guy must not bother removing the organs that get screwed up, either by the spell or the tech. Hence the death."

"Fun times. So, if Garrus and I have to do the take-down on this guy, what do you expect we're in for?"

"He human?"

"Nope. Salarian, apparently."

"Well, I can't really tell you, then. I've had about as much experience with salarian necromancers as you have."

"Which is to say—"

"None."

"Great." Palm to face.

"Look on the bright side, though. He can't be anywhere near as scary as Cowl was." Bob sounded like he was smiling. That must have been an attempt at humor.

"Don't remind me."

"No, seriously, what he's doing probably doesn't take that much straight-up power. Only thing you might have to worry about is if he's got some control over his walking organ banks."

"Great, a probable hostage situation. Garrus will be thrilled."

"Yep. Have fun with that. Now, a new issue of Fornax just hit my feed, so buzz off."

"Wonderful. Goodnight, pervert."

"Goodnight, boss."

Garrus

The morgue technician I'd promised to talk to for Harry was a pretty little turian with Menae colony paint. Close to home, Menae colonists had long traditions of taking either front line military careers or engineering. Interesting to see one at C-Sec. Sweet-talking is easy when the person you have to sweet-talk has been lifting her head to stare at you every time you walk by the front desk. Whether I'd take her up on the implied offer, I hadn't decided. At any rate, she understood my predicament and allowed the two of us into the morgue.

Harry took one look at the corpse. If he'd been a turian, his mandibles would have flared out and he'd have flushed blue. As it was, his jaw muscles tightened and he looked down and closed his eyes briefly.

"Dammit. Necromancy. That makes this bad. Really bad."

"Necromancy? Army of the Dead stuff?" I asked. "Seems like overkill."

"Necromancy can be used to do other things than make zombies. I've seen it used to stop someone from dying long enough to get them medical help. This seems like a lower-level use of that."

"Interesting. If necromancy can do useful stuff like that, why do you shiver whenever you say the word? Way I see it, it's not any worse than fireballing something or shooting someone, for that matter. It's all about the target and the intent."

Harry shook his head. "It's not like that, Garrus. There are Laws of Magic." The Capital Letters were evident. "Messing with the life force and soul of a sentient being is against one of them. Even if you can use it for good, there are fundamental things wrong with the power. The White Council back on Earth executes necromancers for a reason."

I was still confused. I knew my history. Undead turian soldiers were instrumental in defeating the krogan during the Rebellions. The genophage didn't kill the very much alive krogan armies attacking our worlds, so we had to find some way to stem the tide until the krogan started to feel the effects. The best way to fight a creature that won't stop until you blow it to bits is another creature like it. However, I didn't want to get into that argument right then, so I let it lie.

"Fine, Harry. I get it, bad experiences, different cultures, I won't judge. Asari mess with the mind sometimes, and that's the height of wrong from a turian perspective. The important thing is: can you find Saleon?"

"Yes, sort of. It's weak, but there's still a residue on the corpse, and it'll be pretty close to unique, almost like a fingerprint—"

"[Fingerprint?]" I interrupted him. "Dammit, the translator blanked for a second. Has trouble with things that don't translate perfectly in terms of anatomy. Closest thing Palav has is 'bite mark' or 'claw mark'." For reference, turians have unique markings on the pads of their digits just as humans do, but we are missing the oil and sweat glands that make human fingerprints appear on just about everything. Same goes for asari.

"Pretty much," Harry confirmed. "Anyway, I can't track him directly, but I can find where he's doing his thing. I guess it could also lead me to another victim, one who's still alive, too. Either way, it gets us closer to him."

Harry

Tracking Saleon turned out to be harder than we expected. Tracking a magic signature isn't an exact science. Without his blood or another piece of him to go on, I had to basically walk the wards, trying to feel something that felt like what I'd felt on the body in the morgue. I've had a lot of years to practice. My magical senses are pretty good and my tracking spells work across an entire planet. I've checked. It still took hours. I had to get within a block or so to get a read on a location. When we finally found it, Garrus called it in, set up in a shop across from the building with his rifle and waited. I'm pretty sure the brass didn't know about the rifle.

Dammit, where is the bastard? he groaned. I've been sitting in this exact window for four hours now.

I saw the glint of the rifle in the window above. I was a ways away in a coffee shop. I'd been popping in and out.

"Come on, you're a big boy," I muttered into my omnitool. "You can handle a little stakeout. Also, didn't the turian army make you a sniper?"

Oh shut up. It's been a few years and I'm on edge because I want to catch this guy. Executor Pallin says that we don't have enough evidence to go in and search the place, so we need to see him there. It's registered to a Dr. Padok Mizzik, a salarian with medical training. He runs a clinic a few blocks over. However, because we don't have that exact name and our witness died before we could bring in a sketch artist to make something that facial recognition could use, that's apparently not enough.

"Hooray for red tape."

Garrus made a noise. It didn't sound pleased. No kidding. C-Sec makes mountains of the stuff. They're so in love with keeping the diplomats happy that we can't do our jobs.

I glanced over at the building again. "I thought I just saw something."

Yeah, my eyepiece caught some movement. Wait, let me check the footage. Crap. I think we found him.

He sent an image to my omnitool. It looked like a salarian, although the image was a bit buggy, like there was something wrong with the camera. I'd been looking right at him and seen nothing, just gotten a feeling. Apparently Garrus's eyepiece did one better. He'd just gone into the house, and he'd done it stealthily.

"Think that's enough to get a warrant to check the place?" I asked. "We know he's home now, too."

"Maybe. Gimme a minute. Keep your eyes and stuff trained on that door."

I focused my senses and opened my Sight. I knew before I did that I would regret it and I was right. The building had definitely seen a lot of pain within its walls. The whole Citadel has a moderately creepy aura, but this building was rank with a dank, dirty wrongness that I recognized. I couldn't see inside, he had wards in the way, and walls are generally pretty solid, even to the Sight, but this way Saleon wouldn't be able to sneak out the way he'd snuck in. Having the sight of that building burned into my brain for eternity was a high cost to pay, but it didn't even touch the top thousand list of disturbing things I'd seen in my couple centuries of wizarding.

"Ok, we've got permission to search the place. Central said it was thin, but enough, given the potential seriousness of the crime. There was a suggestion that we wait for backup."

"Screw that," I said. "We can handle this. Get over here. Let's pay the nice doctor a visit."

Garrus knocked on the door. "C-Sec! Open up! We have a search warrant!"

Noises came from inside. "Just a minute!" came a high-pitched, quick voice. "Please don't break down my door! I'll be right there."

The door opened a few seconds later. A nervous-looking salarian, not the one we'd seen sneak in, stood there, skin shiny and slick with water, in what must have been his species' equivalent of a bathrobe.

"Sorry," he said. "You woke me. Now, what is this about? Not looking for me. Haven't done anything illegal that I know of. How can I help?"

"We're looking for someone, a salarian. He's been involved in some trafficking. Nasty business, I'll spare you the details," Garrus explained, trying to put him at ease. "We saw someone matching the description enter your building. He took pains to avoid being noticed, too. Are you the owner, Padok Mizzik?"

"No, no, no, I'm his brother, Nimit. He lets me stay here. Been looking for work. Not finding any. Rather short on money, so relying on charity. He lives in the basement apartment. It's bigger. I don't think he's in, but you can go check. I can't stop you, with your warrant and all. If you find him, tell him to answer the door next time, he made me get out of my tub. It was warm."

I looked over at Garrus. Does he ever stop talking? I thought. Garrus rolled his eyes.

"Ok, ok," I said. "Come on, show us."

He led us down to a door.

"Mizzik? You there?" he called. I opened the door, then stepped inside. The room was empty. That feeling I'd gotten earlier came back, tenfold.

"Garrus…," I warned. I opened my Sight, and saw something entirely different. Nimit was definitely not Nimit. He radiated power, dark power. He wasn't a wizard-level talent, at least not for a human, but he had some magical muscle. Then the door slammed shut on me, separating me from Garrus. Well, crap.

The door was warded. I could see it with my Sight, and I was glad that I had. If I'd hit it blindly with my will, there would have been a backlash. The pattern wasn't a familiar one, so I'm not what it would have tried to do. I'd probably have survived it, but it wouldn't have been fun. I backed up to the other side of the room, readied my shield bracelet, and then, with a shout of forzare, gathered my will and ripped the door inward. My power overwhelmed the ward. The door exploded into metal shards, which bounced harmlessly off my shield. I ran up the stairs to find Garrus getting up, a bit dazed. Saleon, or Mizzik, I guess his name was, was gone.

"Hells bells," I groaned. "I should have seen that one coming. He made a mistake inviting me in, though. That door wasn't sturdy enough."

"We won't get anywhere by chasing after him, let's have a quick look around." Garrus quickly called C-Sec, warning them to be on the lookout. "Spirits, he was fast."

"What concerns me is how he fooled your eyepiece. You saw through his veil when he was coming in, but clearly it didn't detect anything amiss here."

"Eyepiece caught him the first time because he was invisible. It saw a major discrepancy and flagged it. Maybe it couldn't distinguish between the two brothers. They would be nearly identical." He squeezed out part of a packet of medigel and applied it to his head.

"I guess," I said, not wanting to think about the alternative.

"You really did a number on that door," Garrus whistled, a sound that would seem impossible for a turian to produce, as we re-entered the basement. He scanned the room, pushing some buttons on his eyepiece. "There," he said, pointing at a spot in the wall to our left. "That's a false wall. There's something behind it."

It took a few minutes to find the trigger that opened it. A latch, hidden behind a booby-trapped panel. The only way to get at it was to move it with magic, or perhaps a strong enough magnet. A whisper of power triggered it and the wall opened up to an operating room with a single operating table in the centre, carefully cleaned. It was surrounded by a circle, enclosing a triangle, all inlaid in the floor in grey metal. Interesting. I took a moment to wonder how salarians organized their magic, then dismissed the curiosity for later. Garrus spoke.

"Definitely looks like we got the right guy, if the attack didn't make us certain. We'll have to get someone with some scientific know-how down here to check if any of the stuff matches the cloning tech, but that circle and the operating theatre paints a nasty picture."

"Yeah," I said. "Let's get out of here."

A few minutes later, we got a call from C-Sec central. Mizzik had been found. He'd holed up in his clinic. Worse, he had hostages. The clinic wasn't that far away. We ran there. Garrus beat me. By a lot. Freaking bastard and his long, springy legs and young physique. When I got there, the patients and staff of the clinic lined the windows, preventing a clear sightline for any C-Sec snipers. The street was mostly closed off by kinetic barriers. C-Sec officers in full combat gear stood at the ready. An asari, dressed rather than armored in C-Sec blue, approached me.

"You'd be Dresden, then." She had a husky alto voice. "Garrus told me to expect a human in a ridiculous coat. Goddess, you're as tall as a turian."

"That's me. Where's Garrus?"

"He's the designated sniper for the rapid response team. He's up in that building over there," she indicated a building with a good view of the clinic, "looking for an angle on our crazy doctor in there. Alia, by the way."

"Charmed," I said, dryly. "Sorry about all this, by the way, we got jumped searching the doctor's house. He was a more powerful mage than we expected and he was able to deceive us for long enough to make a break for it."

"Shit. That explains the behaviour of the hostages. Doc wasn't certified as anything more than the most minor of talents." She looked down, then back up. "You were the magical angle on this. Any ideas?"

"If they aren't being restrained, then he's screwed with their minds. Depending on what exactly he's done, the hostages might be as good as dead."

"That's a problem. I've got another one. No matter what he's done to them, we can't kill a hostage, even to take him out."

"The hell?" I said. "That's stupid. You're risking a lot of lives."

"It's protocol is what it is." Alia grimaced. "Mind is less valuable than life. See that asari fourth from the right? She's a maiden. Got a lot of years left. Even if her mind is almost entirely gone, she might recover sometime in the next couple centuries and still have a full life."

Alia? Garrus's voice came over her comm. Can I take the shot? Where he's pacing, I think I can sneak one between the people in the third window. He sounded almost eager.

"Negative, Detective," she said.

A low growl reverberated over the comm. Alia rolled her eyes. "We have to wait, see what his demands are first. Try to talk him down."

He's been doing some nasty magic, Captain. Ask Harry. He's probably too far gone for anything except a bullet to the head.

"Be that as it may, he still deserves to live, to have his day in court. If he is as damaged as you say, then he'll get the bullet then, isolated from people he could hurt with his death curse."

"Oh, he's that damaged," I added. "His organ cloning relied on necromancy instead of anti-rejection drugs. Add to that the mental domination he's clearly keeping over the hostages and we've got ourselves one crazy mage. He needs a sniper round to the head, not a day in court where he can tamper with a judge."

"Right, I forget, you're human and therefore prejudiced. He deserves punishment, but not for the tool he used to commit his crimes. Look, again, we're waiting on demands. I've attempted to speak with him already, but he's made no response."

With some deep sense of irony, her comm crackled to life. This is Doctor Saleon. I wish to leave here with my patients and staff. I have a ship prepared. You will allow me to reach it or I will begin killing them.

"How are we hearing him?" I whispered to Captain Alia.

"A little transducer stuck to a window. He saw me throw it, so he knows we're listening." She lifted her omnitool to her face and spoke into it. Her voice rang out from the clinic, hollow, with a lot of reverb. Look, doctor. I understand that you want to protect your patients and yourself, but you have to let them go. You're hurting them by forcing them to protect you like that.

My patients, my people. My responsibility. I will not harm them if we are allowed to leave, but we must leave.

"Look, you know he's lying, right?" I gritted my teeth, frustrated.

"Shut up, wizard. Let me do my job."

Garrus

Alia kept talking to the doctor. Unfortunately, Saleon/Mizzik wouldn't back down and the captain seemed afraid to press him too hard. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Harry pacing back and forth, hands clenching. The doctor was pacing, too, making it virtually impossible to keep a bead on him. Then, Alia's voice sounded over the comm. Attention all C-Sec forces. We are lowering the barrier. Doctor Mizzik—

Saleon! came the sound from the transducer.

Ahem, she said. Doctor Saleon will exit the building with the other residents. We will escort him to his ship, to ensure that no one comes to harm.

Garrus. That came over his private channel. Follow through the maintenance corridors above. Try to get a shot on him while he's moving. If you have one, tell me, and wait for my order. Don't. Fire.

"Fine," I sent back. "You realize that if I have to wait on you, the moment where I have a shot might pass."

I'm aware.

Saleon was careful. I didn't have a shot at all while he was moving. Then, he was on his ship, his victims with him.

"What are you going to do now?" I felt useless.

What can we do? Alia clearly felt something of the same. If we destroy that ship, all those people will die.

"If we leave it, he's going to destroy their minds, use them for organs. What he's taking them for, it's worse than death."

Goddess, you think I don't know that? I'd do it in a second; you should hear the stories your consultant's been telling me. But I'm getting a direct order from Pallin. We don't have any leeway here, Vakarian.

"Couldn't you have let me take the shot back at the clinic? Then it would have been one life, maybe two if I sucked at shooting, against all the rest."

We only really got confirmation of the full extent of what happened a couple minutes before he reached the ship. And you didn't have a shot then.

"I know." I leaned back against the wall of the maintenance corridor. "Spirits, I hate closed-minded, procedure-driven, rules-lawyering bastards."

Umm, you left your comm channel open and I just patched Pallin through. He would like to speak with you.

Shit.