MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR

*Episode Seven*

A merchant in the wards required many traits, the most vital of which was cleverness. With so many millions of citizens crammed into every corner of the Citadel, competition was fierce and only the clever survived.

Morlan smiled approvingly at his earnings for the day as he rifled through a few credit receipts. It was not yet noon and already he had more in his hands than he would usually have made in a week.

Indeed, amongst the packed throng of traders littering the market he'd proven himself more clever than most that day and he beamed down eagerly at the fruits of his mercantile prowess.

His fingers traced the authorisation code flashing across one of the unprocessed credit chits. That one stood out to Morlan, if only because of the red-painted turian who had delivered it. For a moment he wondered if the code could have been forged, perhaps by one of the many programs he himself had acquired from one of his fellow salarians.

Shaking his head, he purged the thought.

That turian had been dangerous, Morlan had sensed it in his every word and action, but turians did not cheat. No matter their lack of imagination and penchant for violence, they brought their silly notions of honour into everything they did and Morlan knew the credits would be there waiting for him.

So focused was Morlan that he didn't notice the approaching C-Sec officers until it was too late.

They emerged from the crowd like a pair of blue shadows and Morlan's instincts prickled at the familiar face of Detective Keller. That one was nosey and pushy, always had been.

With a heavy sinking feeling in his stomach, Morlan hid his valuable credit chits from view. It was required that all consumer transactions on the Citadel be carried out by omni-tool, a model of transparency and fiscal responsibility. The older, less traceable methods were generally frowned upon by many and no one frowned harder than C-Sec. Morlan had discovered this the hard way, and he always ensured the chits were kept out of sight whenever the dogs came sniffing.

The officers drew near and Morlan's gaze was drawn to Keller's associate, a new face. He was young for a turian and Morlan hid a derisive smirk. A recruit, obviously, there to study and absorb. No doubt he was only just learning how to write tickets and file reports.

Morlan did not care. Whatever C-Sec wanted, he would demonstrate his cleverness once again and leave them empty-handed.

~~ME-I~~

Arlen saw the salarian merchant steel himself visibly and became very aware of the people that flowed across the market in a constant, unbroken stream.

Murmuring voices swelled, threatening to distract him from his purpose and he looked at Keller to find her gaze fixed resolutely on their suspect. He mimicked the action, taking a measure of confidence from her cold expression.

Morlan smiled widely at them, spreading his arms in greeting. 'Hello there! Welcome to Morlan's famous shop! You want many g-'

'Can it, Morlan,' Keller snapped as she drew to a halt, 'You know I'm not interested in your crappy merchandise. I'm here to ask you a few questions.'

Immediately, the hard tone brought a shocked stillness to Morlan. Arlen watched as the salarian's grey scales picked up the light of the market, edging them with white as his head rocked from side to side in agitation. His eyes were a pair of dark orbs that flitted about nervously and when it came, his reply was a rush of jumbled words that sounded as if they'd been learned by watching too many commercials.

'Officer Keller, yes, I know you! You want information? Of course but nothing I have, no, not of any interest to you!' He was jittery, almost comically so and the harder Morlan tried to hide it, the worse it became. 'Please, look at my fine stock! See human marital endowment aids, very popular right now!'

For a moment Arlen thought he was merely putting on an act, a charade to fool them into letting their guards down. As the seconds passed however, the merchant only grew more anxious and Keller took advantage of it without hesitation.

'Stow it, slimeball. A few hours ago you sold something to a turian named Crixus Nantia. We've got footage of you handing over some kind of circuit board to this turian. I want to know exactly what you gave him and how you got it.'

'It was a navigation unit for old freighter,' Morlan replied quickly, 'Very rare indeed, I was lucky to find! He was lucky also, nice for him to get at low, low price! Did special discount, old friend you see-'

'What kind of freighter?' Keller interrupted.

Morlan answered, though more ponderously than before and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, 'Kowloon modular freighter. Very common, but older ships need Black Sun nav boards for VIs to function properly. Black Sun components difficult to find but not for me!'

'What series nav board?' asked Keller.

'Thirteen-A.'

'Age?'

'Um...four years, I think?' Morlan replied, a ripple of fear playing across his features.

Keller leaned intently over the merchant's counter, her golden ponytail falling across her shoulder. She spoke slowly, her eyes boring into Morlan, 'You think? A wrong nav card in one of those things could send a ship like that into the middle of a sun or a black hole. Even a two-bit junk shifter like you should know that.'

Morlan thought on it a moment, then answered again, though his voice wavered with uncertainty, 'Yes. Yes, certain it was four years.'

Keller narrowed her eyes. 'And this turian was the captain of this ship? Navigator?'

The noise of the passing crowd had become distant and muted to Arlen as he listened to the exchange with all his concentration. He saw Morlan swallow nervously, clearly unused to this kind of persistence.

'I don't know,' the salarian mumbled, 'Stops in on occasion but not often, don't know him personally. Part was special order, had it sourced from off-station.'

That was it. Arlen cleared his throat and his warm, flanging tone rose over the clamour of the nearby shoppers. Even Keller seemed surprised to hear him speak.

'I thought you said he was an old friend of yours?' he asked calmly.

'No!' Morlan shouted, waving his hands in panic, 'No, not old friend, figure of speech, you see! I uh…'

The words died in his throat as Keller reached across the counter, gripping Morlan by the collar of his suit.

'I think it's time you told us the truth, Morlan,' the detective growled, 'What did you sell to that turian?'

Squirming in her grasp, Morlan forced the voice from his throat, 'I don't know!' he said despairingly, 'They told me to hand it over when he came! Paid well, couldn't turn down an offer for so much, couldn't afford to!'

'Who's 'they'?'

'Can't tell you! They'll kill me!' Morlan wailed. His eyes shone with genuine terror and Arlen almost felt a pang of regret for the fool. It was obvious he had become embroiled in events much larger than he'd imagined but with so many lives at stake, it was difficult to find much sympathy.

Keller pulled him closer with a sharp jerk. 'Let me tell you something, Morlan. The turian you sold that part to was a terrorist, a man who only an hour ago planted a bomb in Citadel Tower. You sold him a part of that bomb, didn't you?'

'Wha...' Morlan began, horror bleeding the word from his lips. His face slackened in shame and humiliation, the expression growing so sickened that Arlen thought he could very well vomit in front of them all.

'Now let us make this clear to you,' Keller continued, 'If something bad happens, we won't be bringing you in on contraband or smuggling charges. You'll be an accomplice to a terrorist action. Any resulting deaths will be on your hands and you will be charged accordingly. Do you understand me?'

'I swear, wasn't told what it was,' Morlan replied, his head lowered in sullen disgrace.

'All right,' said Keller. Her tone softened slightly and she released her grip on his suit, but her eyes were still as if made of steel. 'I believe you, but only because I've been busting your slimy balls for years now and I know you're stupid enough to do something like this. Now, I want the records of where you got that part from and I want them now.'

Morlan mumbled incoherently, eyes downcast and hands fumbling, smoothing out the unsightly wrinkles in his clothes. 'Only have an alias. Came from off-station, as I said, Omega to be exact. Don't usually take orders from there, normally too much risk.'

Arlen turned to Keller. 'I've heard of Omega, somewhere to avoid if memory serves me right. A real cesspool.'

Nodding, Keller's unflinching gaze fell upon Morlan once more and he quailed under those cold blue eyes.

'Give me everything you have,' she ordered, 'Invoices, receipts, shipping manifests, I want it all. If you leave anything out then I'll be back here in an hour with a Special Response unit, do I make myself clear?'

Morlan bobbed his head and set about rifling through stacks of files and OSDs under the counter, ignoring the inquisitive glances from passing shoppers and neighbouring merchants. It was not long before he set down several datapads on the counter, their frames caked with old dust.

Immediately, Arlen began to link them to his omni-tool. The curves of his face were lined with amber as the instrument did its work, passing a thin layer of light over each in turn before sending out an acknowledging chime. He quickly got through them all and his brow furrowed as the analysis results came up.

'The name Bithcon Dynamics appears several times in these records. The shipping dates and descriptions are a solid match.' He looked up at Morlan. 'This was the company who supplied you the part?'

'Yes. That is the alias I spoke of, don't know anything else. No need to ask questions if the credits are good.'

'Well, it's a start,' said Keller, 'Stay out of trouble, Morlan. If you receive anything else from this company, this Bithcon Dynamics, you let us know right away.'

The merchant nodded his agreement with a force that could have snapped his thin neck.

Keller turned away, catching Arlen by surprise. After a final glance at Morlan he followed, voicing his doubt as they walked, 'We're letting him go? Just like that?'

The detective wove through the crowd expertly, leaving Arlen to dodge whoever had stepped aside for her.

'As you can see,' she called over her shoulder, 'Morlan's worth more on the street than inside. Besides, you've got bigger fish to fry, right?'

The question brought some clarity to Arlen's thoughts. Though he loathed the idea of letting a criminal go free, there was no denying their priorities or their purpose. One Morlan was not worth the hundreds of lives Crixus' bomb would claim.

With that in mind he followed Keller, eager to follow up on Bithcon Dynamics and uncover the next piece of the puzzle.

~~ME-I~~

Lina sighed wearily and placed a hand on her visor, languidly resting her head as she continued to prod the terminal keyboard. The action was now automatic, the monotony of sifting through vast collections of security reports making itself felt as the task wore on. People and places flashed by before her trained eyes, which moved smoothly behind dark glass as they scanned, watching for anything suspicious.

There was depressingly little to catch her attention. Though the scant few districts Crixus had visited were saturated with surveillance devices, Lina had long lost count of how many vids she'd watched with nothing to show for it. A single customs gate had responded to the description passed around Council departments but aside from his meeting with Morlan, Crixus' movements were still unknown.

Lina started as a hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up to see Milo smiling down at her.

Her temper flared instantly at the interruption but she controlled herself enough to bite down on an angry response.

'Are you okay?' he asked.

'Of course, why wouldn't I be?' she lied.

He stared at her for a moment, evidently gauging how best to continue before giving her a cautious smile. 'Okay, fair enough. If you need any help though, all you have to do is ask.'

As he turned away, Milo gently squeezed Lina's shoulder, making her flinch. The habit of physical contact was not uncommon among humans but it did not stop the unpleasant tension that gripped her stomach, an instinctive feeling of distaste that she could not suppress.

'N-no,' she stuttered, the awkward sound surprising her, 'I appreciate the offer but you've got your own job to do. In any case, I doubt you'd be able get through these files as quickly as I can.'

'Is that a fact?' Milo chuckled playfully, 'I think I'd like to take that bet.'

'Well I wouldn't. Now stop wasting time and get back to work.'

'All right, all right!' he said lightly, backing away with his hands raised in mock surrender, 'I'm just saying, you look a little tired. At least let me get you a drink or something to perk you up, okay?'

Lina narrowed her eyes, confused by a strange mixture of frustration and nervousness. She knew Milo was only trying to be friendly but the best she could muster was a huff of irritation.

'Fine, then. If you insist on it then I guess I could do with a glass of water.'

Milo's lips curled into a knowing grin and Lina frowned beneath her helmet, wondering if he sensed her true thoughts. He nodded and turned, striding smoothly between the rows of desks.

Humans were an odd bunch, Lina thought with a shake of her head. They were the most unpredictable race she had ever come across, indefinable from one to the next and always contradicting the behaviour of the last.

Nestling a hand firmly under her chin, she resumed her listless stare into the orange glow of her terminal. She could not deny the look in Milo's eyes had disturbed her, even though their exchange was both brief and uncomfortable, at least on her part. Moreover, her discomfort was an unfamiliar one, an odd sense of vertigo that gripped her whenever he smiled in that infuriating way he seemed to have perfected.

It was a strange feeling that she'd never known before and one she couldn't help but try and analyse.

Her terminal seemed distant, even more so than moments before, when it had threatened to overwhelm her patience with insurmountable boredom. The murmurs of those around her became an indiscernible flow of sound, swimming through her helmet receptors without form or meaning.

Why did he have to disturb me? Lina cursed inwardly. She'd made such good progress despite her burgeoning lethargy but now she could not concentrate no matter how hard she tried. Even the lingering warmth of Milo's hand on her shoulder, felt so keenly even beneath her suit, distracted her.

Blinking, Lina abruptly sat upright. Simply by realising she was thinking too much of the encounter, her nervousness had grown, leaping up her spine in an icy chill.

It was then she noticed Lorica.

The asari had not risen from her seat but she did not need to. Her pale eyes were locked on Lina in a fierce glare, her mouth twisting bitterly as a subordinate spoke to her, the words unheeded.

The hostility in the gaze was as much a warning as any amount of words and it took all of Lina's will to force her mind away from Milo and back to her work.

Losing herself once more in the security feeds, Lina relaxed. As a quarian, she was used to the prejudice and anger of others and had learned long ago how to put it all aside. Though she wanted nothing more than to answer Lorica with a harsh reprimand or an even stonier look of her own, they did not have the time for petty spite.

The race to find Crixus once again took over her body and mind, reassuring her as her fingers began to flicker across the keyboard.

~~ME-I~~

The clinic had grown silent. All Garrus could hear was his own heart hammering against the walls of his chest.

Part of him recoiled in horror at what he was doing but he'd learned long ago how to silence that dissenting voice, how to lock it away and focus on what needed to be done. He couldn't let anything get in his way, not now, not when everything hinged on his next action.

I'Lyana still lay in bed, wreathed in a perfect white sheet that sank deeply into every nuance of her body. It would have been a beautiful sight were it not for the dark, sickly bruising that stained almost half of her face.

Her cheeks were swollen, giving her mouth an irregular slant while a bloody gash had been ripped across her brow, disfiguring the flesh around her right eye.

Garrus shook his head slowly. Even if she lived, she would never be the same again.

He paced carefully towards her, his stomach weak and legs numb, as if someone else were controlling them. The armour of his left hand shone under the sterile light as he tenderly brushed his fingers over I'Layna's cheek.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, 'Please, forgive me.'

The hand moved down to I'Layna's shoulder and after a final, cautious glance around the room, Garrus began to shake her. The motion was gentle at first but quickly grew in strength as she failed to respond.

'Come on, I'Layna,' he murmured, 'I need you to wake up now.'

He tried to keep his voice low but as the seconds passed without so much as a flicker of movement, he began to grow impatient.

I'Layna's body shuddered and jerked as Garrus brought his other hand to bear, taking hold of her other shoulder in a firm grip.

'I'Layna, can you hear me? Wake up!'

Nearby instruments began to beep rapidly, doing their best to alert the medical staff to I'Layna's rising heart rate. Garrus swore and quickly reached over to shut off the equipment, closing his eyes in relief as it fell silent. He did not stop trying to rouse her and almost missed the first quiet gasps as consciousness took hold.

'That's it,' he whispered gratefully before taking a nervous look over his shoulder. I'Layna would likely be mired in pain and confusion when her senses returned and he wouldn't have long until she shouted for help.

Even as the thought crossed Garrus' mind, I'Layna's eyes widened in shock at the sight of his fringe and mandibles. She tried to scream but her voice was barely more than a hiss, and her arms reached out to feebly bat him away.

'Calm down,' he said firmly as he took hold of her frantic limbs, 'I'm a C-Sec officer. Take it easy now, you're safe. You're safe.'

He repeated the words like a mantra, desperately trying to keep his voice as low and soothing as possible. I'Layna continued to struggle against him for a few more seconds but gradually, she calmed. Her blue eyes settled on Garrus, sharpened for a moment, then began to shine with tears.

Garrus relaxed his grip on her arms and took her hands in his, doing his best to comfort her.

'I'Layna, I know you're in pain right now but we don't have any time,' he pleaded, 'I need you to tell me what you saw earlier. I need you to tell me about the bomb.'

A hoarse rasp came from I'Layna's lips as tears trickled down her cheeks, leaving silvery trails. Faint traces of words formed but her voice did not come and the harsh sound seemed to agitate her further, her chest heaving as silent sobs stole her breath.

'Take it easy, your voice should come back,' Garrus said, his calm belying the cold dread he felt, having seen before what fusion-based explosives could do to living flesh. I'Layna would be lucky if she could speak again.

The realisation brought a sickening lump into Garrus' stomach. If she could not talk then his efforts would all be for nothing.

At that moment, an idea formed in his mind and his eyes snapped to a datapad resting on a nearby table.

He spoke again, willing her to understand what was at stake, 'Please, I'Layna, I need you to listen to me very carefully. My name is Garrus Vakarian, I'm an agent with C-Sec. The man who tried to kill you is dead, he can't hurt you any more but there's still a possibility he'll murder a lot of innocent people.'

He paused to see how his words were received and he could not have missed the relief that washed over her at the mention of Crixus' death. Garrus continued slowly, knowing I'Layna could only take in so much at once in her state.

'You saw him plant what we believe to be a bomb in Citadel Tower. Right now C-Sec are searching the area but it could take them a long time to find it. I doubt we have more than a couple of hours at the most. You can save those people, I'Layna. You can save everyone. All we need is the location of that bomb.'

I'Layna sagged visibly and Garrus could not imagine how much willpower it took for the asari to simply keep herself conscious. Her breath came in ragged wisps and her glistening eyes lacked focus, constantly wandering after no more than a few seconds.

They grew glassy as Garrus picked up the datapad and taking a knee, he settled beside I'Layna and took her hand. The other offered the datapad to her and he was glad his voice did not tremble with the anxiety that wracked him.

'I know you can't speak right now but I want you to describe, as best you can, where you saw him plant that bomb. Anything, even the floor you were on, any small detail will be useful.'

He didn't know whether she was nodding or if her head was simply lolling with exhaustion but in spite of her agony, I'Layna's fingers reached out to delicately touch the datapad. Each keystroke was like a hammerfall in that quiet place, yet Garrus grinned subtly as she handed the datapad back to him in a trembling grip.

His heart soared at the simple direction; Floor 232, Service Tunnel 14d.

This was it. This was the information they needed.

Garrus looked up and opened his mouth to thank I'Layna but the words did not come as her body started to twitch, her eyes raised to the ceiling.

'No!' he cried out as he seized her hands, trying to hold them steady. 'Stay with me, I'Layna! Somebody, get in here! Get in here now!'

His shouts echoed cleanly against the bare walls and an instrument panel began to chime a loud warning. The tone was high and pulsed quickly, matching his rising panic.

Garrus did not need to look at the readings flashing across the panel's display to know I'Layna was dying. Her body convulsed and she squeezed Garrus' hands, the pressure unnaturally strong.

'Damn it!' Garrus yelled desperately.

He heard the thumping of running feet behind him but did not take his eyes from I'Layna's, even when he felt a violent pull from behind. An arm wrenched him backwards and though he was aware of several bodies packing themselves into the space around I'Layna, he barely noticed them. Instead he simply stared blankly as her eyes grew dull, the life leeching from them with frightening speed.

'We're losing her!' a voice yelled out, 'Who the hell shut off life support?'

'Heart rate's rising too quickly,' someone said in reply, 'We need to get her stable!'

Garrus looked on, lost in the sudden rush of noise and activity. He held the datapad with loose fingers, his arms hanging limply by his sides. His head felt light with dawning regret and his whole body felt tired to the point of exhaustion.

Once again he saw the victim of Doctor Saleon he'd interviewed so long ago, the one he had watched bleed out across the interrogation room floor. Again he caught the odour of hot, rushing blood and heard the shouts of those around him. That turian had died in agony on the cold ground. Now I'Layna too was suffering the same fate.

Garrus breathed heavily and became acutely of the armour that pushed against his chest. It felt constricting, as if it wanted to crush him. The sensation dulled his thoughts and it took several moments to register the long, droning beep that pierced the clinic air. The medical staff hung their heads, their sadness and frustration palpable.

Daniel, the orderly who had accosted Garrus earlier, looked at him accusingly. The human's face had coloured with something more than grief and Garrus quickly came to his senses under that hard glare. He pushed aside thoughts of consequence and turned his mind to what needed to be done. He would contact Arlen with the bomb's location and after that he would face whatever he had brought upon himself.

Garrus looked again at I'Layna, his mandibles flexing as he followed the gentle curves of her body, now forever motionless. Her eyes were closed, her peaceful expression hiding the pain she had felt only moments ago. The monitoring equipment continued its long, mournful note and no one moved to turn it off as they respectfully pulled I'Layna's sheets up to cover her face.

For that, Garrus was thankful. He did not know if he could bear to look at her a moment longer.