There was no sign as to whom had left it.

He scoured the whole room, but still could not sense who had invaded his sanctuary in Port Cargo. What he could sense, was the menagerie of people who had been in and out over the last two days, both for the retrofits, and to clear out the CAT-6 mercenaries. Perhaps that was the purpose, the genius of the perfectly-timed infiltration; they knew he wouldn't be able to make out who'd set it there, or had counted on that being the case.

Or perhaps they had counted on the fact that strange drink was still messing with his head, a resounding migraine that was nigh on unbearable, and made using his sixth sense absolutely nauseating.

Javik was facing a master of infiltration. They hadn't even written the note themselves, so there was no way for him to compare the handwriting to the rest of the crew. He glared at it scathingly, both tempted by the offering that had been left by the mysterious infiltrator, and suspecting that it may very well be a trap.

Sitting on the desk below the monitor, quite innocently, was a seafood plate.

Noticed you were partial to it during the party.

P.S. No, it's not poisoned, so eat the damn stuff or I'll space you for wasting it.

P.P.S. I knew that whole "I'll poison you if I eat near you" thing was bullshit. Next time, choose something more believable; you're too honest when you're drunk.

It had to be a member of the crew. Nobody else would know(then again, even he didn't know) what happened during the party. He could remember taking interest in some sort of beverage... then it was all a blur. Maybe he had eaten something? And maybe he had liked it? Something like that. But he couldn't remember what...

He strode over to wash his hands of the party ichor from the previous evening, and cast the food another glance. He looked away.

Would eating make the migraine go away?

He stopped himself from looking.

The turian had suggested water.

He barely managed to stop himself from glancing.

The quarian had said something about painkillers. Lots of them. Multiple varieties. But he still had doubts about the reliability of this cycle's medicines.

That smell, though!

He turned his head away again.

It reminded him of Rannoch, actually. The way the scents of salt an water, untarnished by the smell of Reaper fire and rotting corpses, had permeated the air. He'd been near oceans before, but never like that. Ironic, considering his people's history as seafarers.

All four eyes were locked onto the food. He looked away with purpose.

Could one bite really hurt that much?

With a sigh of resolute indignancy, he closed the distance in one stride, and shoved a flacky peice of meat into his mouth. If it was poisoned, he could always chuck the rest out the airlock-

An ancient swear word cut through the air...

And the Avatar of Vengeance wondered where this stuff had been his whole life.


Have fun guessing who left it!^^

And seafood does rock, I think this is something at least most of us can agree on. I thought 'might as well start with Javik, get His Grumpiness out of the way', but let me know if there's anyone you'd prefer to see next!

Fare Thee Well!