Marcus was an odd one, she decided as they all waited to be debriefed on the bridge of the UAF Mariner. If not for the movement of his eyes and the occasional blink, she'd have sworn he was as still a statue as the ones they'd left down there in that temple. So still and quiet over there where he leaned against a bulkhead, so utterly...controlled. His brother on the other hand seemed possessed by all the vitality that Marcus seemed to lack, he never stopped moving and always had a quick witty rejoinder to everything. She observed him coaxing his brother out of his deep thoughts many times in this short interim and smiled at the love and caring that was so obvious on his face. They were so alike in stature and so very different in personality. And yet they were brothers, through and through.

She wondered briefly where the other three were, the ones she met on that floating cemetery so long ago. It must be quite a thing to see them all in one place, to see them interact as family, they were so close in age to each other. She thought of her own two sisters, who seemed so young to her that it was hard to find a common thread there. She loved them dearly, but it was hard to talk about dollies all day long.

She stood to attention as Commander Jennings came out of the elevator. Her companions did the same, and they all saluted the Mariner's CO as she approached. The human woman nodded to them, "At ease. Follow me to the conference room."

They were shown to a large ovalish chamber aft of the CIC. It was ringed in QE pads and they were told to stand in the center. The overhead lights dimmed as the comms came online, the holographic images of peoples of every race flickering into being all around them. This was the council, she realized, exchanging looks with her companions. There were more than she'd realized, every race was represented, even the vorcha. It was probably the most civilized looking vorcha she'd ever seen, wearing orange robes and carrying itself with dignity and authority.

Marcus bowed at the waist and saw his companions do the same. A salarian councilor spoke, his tenor voice breaking the hush, "Describe to us exactly what you and your teams observed down on that planet."

"Private First Class T'soni was the first to make contact with the mercs in that base." Marcus gestured that she take a step forward, which she did stridently.

"I was part of an insertion team in Aralakh Company. We found an enemy outpost and after initially scouting it with drones, my acting CO made the call to move in. It seemed like a small installation, no APC's, no tanks, but we underestimated the strength of our opposition and found ourselves trapped in a tunnel underneath the compound. I requested reinforcements and we settled in to wait." She said stiffly, formally, eyes meeting theirs with confidence.

"You requested reinforcements?" Asked one of those ghostly images.

"Yes, my acting CO decided it would be prudent to step down. I was next in the chain of command, so it fell to me." She heard some muttering out there, too low to hear. She continued, head held high, "Lieutenant Marcus and his men came to bail us out."

It was at this point she felt it prudent to step back and let Marcus tell them the rest. He spoke up as he took a step forward, "The enemy numbers were staggering. How they amassed without notice is a puzzle, there must have been at least three hundred of them. With asari matriarchs who...attacked us."

There was a gasp at this from the asari quarter and one said in a sharp tone, "You have proof, I assume?"

A loud voice boomed through the room, "I do."

Grunt walked into the lit circle and dropped his burden in their midst. It was one of the matriarchs they'd killed, her face snarling even in death, "We found them in a temple, the temple that was at the other end of the tunnel my insertion team was trapped in."

In the stunned silence that followed, Marcus heard several whispered comments among the asari faction and one of the turian councilors said, "Do you recognize her, Councilor Adelpha?"

The asari who spoke earlier said, "That is Matriarch Tarolita. She was missing, presumed dead. Our temple on that planet has been long disused, abandoned for centuries. As was our colony there."

Grunt rolled his shoulders, "It wasn't your temple any more. It was taken over by some cultists, who dressed like mercs. That's the only reason they were being targeted in the first place. If they'd just looked like colonists, we probably would have left it be. I think we've stumbled onto something. Something...not good."

Marcus hummed thoughtfully, "If they'd looked like colonists, it would have attracted traders and ships. What are they doing that's so bad that they'd risk being targeted as mercs?"

Susan looked at him, startled at his insight. He was brilliant, this quiet turian. Paulus looked proud of his brother, who could contribute to this discussion among august leaders. Susan's inner musings were interrupted by one of the salarian councilors, "What was the cult about? What sort of worship is it? Hopefully, not blood sacrifice or any other barbarism of that sort."

Marcus again spoke, his eyes cloudy and troubled, "We didn't see evidence of that last. It looked like they were worshiping a deified Commander Shepard. And they had...statues of the people she served with around her like...saints or...prophets or something."

Susan felt that same unease again, an unease she saw reflected on Grunt and many others' faces and she was glad she wasn't alone in the feeling. The turian councilor who spoke earlier said with trepidation, "And this man you rescued, Jacob Taylor, what is his status? Can he tell us anything?"

Grunt grimaced, and Susan saw a flash of rage in his eyes, quickly cooled, "Alive, but incoherent. Whatever they did to him, he won't be able to tell us anything for quite some time."

"Doubtless, we'll learn more when we send a team in to investigate that temple."

"No you won't. I blew that abomination sky high." Grunt stated, coldly, daring any of the councilors to say anything about it. "Wrex would have done the same."

"You overstep yourself." Snapped a councilor, an ancient krogan wearing armor that was as pitted and scarred as the set Grunt was wearing. There was a growing grumble among the assembled personages as points for and against were made. Grunt stolidly glared at all opposers.

Susan shared a look with Marcus that was mixed trepidation and relief. As much as that temple and its mysteries warranted prying into, they both felt it was better destroyed than left standing. Marcus spoke, interrupting the argument he could see on the horizon, "I doubt that this is the last we've seen of these Shepard cultists, they were too well organized and armed."

"Religion is outside of the purview of this council to legislate or inhibit in any way, but if they are involved in some kind of illicit activity, then we may be empowered to intervene." An asari said, waving her hands in frustration, "We will send Spectres to look into it."

One by one the holos vanished until there was only Grunt left with them in the conference room, even Jennings had left at some point, probably to run her ship. The krogan turned to them and said, arms crossed, "Sometimes this new council seems as hopelessly ineffectual and stupid as the old one."

Paulus snorted, "Our uncle Garrus had some interesting things to say on that score."

Grunt grinned, "I'll bet he did. Well, boys, looks like I'm going to have to borrow you for a bit longer. Aralakh Company is finding all sorts of small caches of those bastards on that planet, but there's a base on the third moon that looks to have something to do with this mess and I need a small covert squad to go in there and clean that nest of vipers out. I'll send the nav point to T'soni, get your kit, there's no rest for the wicked."

Marcus spared a guilty thought for his crew on his ship, but orders were orders and he sent a brief message to them via extranet. They'd find something to do in the meantime until he got back to them. He sent another note to Aleia, just to let her know what was up so she wouldn't worry. He felt a flush at that, not sure if she would worry about him, but kind of wanting her to nonetheless. It was a confusing thought, all muddled up in his feelings for her. Maybe he should find some time to just talk to her and see where they stood on that. He definitely wanted more than just blowing off steam with her and fretted for a moment whether she wanted the same. He hoped so.

He couldn't deny a certain...eagerness to fight with Susan in his team again. It had been exhilarating and his brother looked pleased over there if his smug smirk was any clue.

Susan stopped Grunt by the elbow at the door, "Shouldn't I be down there with you, with Aralakh Company?"

"We'll have it cleared by the time you and these boys are done with that moon." He swung a blue eye to pin her and grinned, "Besides, can't you feel it?"

Susan was puzzled over what he meant by that and furrowed her brow, "Feel what?"

Grunt laughed and thumped her on her blood caked chestguard, "They're your krannt."

She thought about this little tidbit of krogan culture, krannt meant comrades, friends, people you had in your circle of trust, but the way he said it made it seem much more and she glared at him, "So are you."

Now that grin turned mischievous and pleased, he leaned toward her, "Maybe. Get a few years under your belt and then come find me. We'll see. And take a shower, asari, you stink."

She laughed, self consciously trying to rub some of the filth off her armor, "Must be pretty bad if a krogan is giving me tips on hygiene."

"Racist." He said as he nodded for her to follow the two turians who waited out in CIC. "Get a move on. Those fanatics are waiting for you to deliver them their just desserts."

She laughed as she sauntered away, throwing both hands in the air in a gesture of amused and resigned compliance. "Yeah, yeah, that's me, number one delivery girl."

Paulus grinned as she caught up to them and she grinned back, Marcus also smiled, albeit bemusedly as he led them to the shuttle bay.

She punched her medigel dispenser but it was fried and leaned her head back on a bulkhead, sighing. She wiped blood out of her eye for the fourth time and looked over to where Marcus was messing with the terminal they'd found at the heart of this compound, past what seemed like a whole army of Cerberus soldiers and mechs. "Find anything?"

"They wiped it, probably when the alarms went off." He rolled his shoulders as he looked at her where she sat trying to get a bandage to stick to her sweatslicked skin. Her shoulder armor lay cracked on the ground in front of her as she fought with the adhesive strip. Paulus was at the door looking back the way they came, covering their asses and he was grateful for it, sending a silent thank you to his brother with his eyes.

Exhaustion was starting to creep in around the edges, but he felt exultant as well. The fighting had been intensely gratifying, and he made a mental note to have Susan transferred permanently to his team, they just worked too well together, the three of them. Marcus suppressed any qualms he might be feeling around the edges of his conscience for stealing her from Aralakh Company. Already he was imagining the strategies he would employ for his team. He was excited to see what all five of them could do. What couldn't they do? It was going to be fun to find out exactly where their limits lie. He watched her pick up her armor with a frown of consternation on her face and said, "I think it's scrap. You're going to need a new set."

"Damn. I just bought this armor last month. First real deployment and I'm getting all shot up." She grimaced and tossed the useless armor to the side. And then she wiped angrily at her bloody brow, "Fucking scalp wound keeps bleeding into my eye."

"Here." He crouched next to her and pulled out a spare medigel pouch, tore it carefully open and smeared it over that deep gash, tutting under his breath, "You really shouldn't try to catch bullets with your face, this one almost made it through your shields."

Marcus glanced down and was caught in a green stare, she was looking at him with a touch of bewilderment and he felt a strange feeling, something he didn't recognize in this context. His guts gave a little flip and he tore his gaze away from her with difficulty, "Paulus, still clear?"

"I think we got them al-." Suddenly, the wall behind them exploded and they all scrambled for cover. Paulus peered from behind his crate, yelling, "Atlas!"

Before he could pull her back, Susan leaned out and tossed a warp at the thing, which strode toward them with slow inexorable steps, a juggernaut of steel. He yanked her back with a snarl, "You don't have any spirits damned shields."

She glared at him, icy green eyes flashing dangerously and he hardened his gaze, challenging her to disobey him and she relented, with a laugh, "Alright, LT, go get him."

His brows raised at how mercurial her moods were, one second angry, the next jovial and turned to his brother, "You still have some grenades?"

"A few. Where?"

"Try to stick some to that canopy so I can crack that nut." He pulled out his sniper rifle and loaded it with AP ammo, scoping in on the advancing mech just as the first bomb was lobbed. In the wake of the ensuing explosion he could see a crack in the glass protecting the pilot, who was just a shadowy silhouette within that cockpit. He planted a bullet right in that seam and grinned as the whole thing shattered, exposing a very surprised human face. He took a breath to steady his aim, preternaturally aware that the mech's weapon was coming to bear on him, but it seemed so slow, slow as treacle. His blood pounded in his ears as the crosshairs lined up on that face and let the air slowly, gently out of his lungs as he squeezed the trigger, the whole world was the scope, just him and what was in his scope. Moments later, the head that was the focus of all his attention exploded in a shower of gore. He watched the corpse tip to one side in fascination.

Susan watched the almost lazy ease with which that Atlas pilot was dispatched with awe, her eyes widening as the Atlas toppled over. Paulus crowed and clapped his brother on the shoulder, knocking that intense turian out of his reverie. Marcus blinked a few times as he seemed to come back to himself and returned his brother's grin with one of his own. Susan stood, noting absently that her scalp wound had stopped bleeding. Two bullets, that's all it had really taken, well, and a bit of ordinance, and a heavily armed and armored machine was scrap. The skill that implied was...intimidating. She turned wondering eyes on that turian, who was shrugging off his brother's praise.

Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she pointed, "Was that light blinking before?"

Marcus turned to the monitor and scrambled over to it with unseemly haste, "Someone's opened a live link with it."

"Vid?" Paulus' voice was hopeful as he moved to look over his brother's shoulder. Susan squeezed in to see and only saw a blinking prompt on that screen.

Marcus shook his head in frustration, "No, just text."

And he typed a command into the machine and it scrolled a short message, a cryptic thing of many abbreviations, 'Delta CP compromised. AJT taken. ZM acquired. Status?'

"Can we trace it?" Susan breathed and Marcus typed rapidly, trying to tap the signal, trace it back to its source. He growled in frustration as the programming eluded him momentarily, wishing Sanders were here and felt his mandibles flex as he found the way. Slippery, but doable, he input the key sequences just as the link dropped and they all expelled the breaths they were holding in relief as coordinates popped up.

He dumped the data onto his omnitool and said, "Let's go."

"Right behind you." Susan said, falling into his wake with his brother as he led them back to the shuttle.