I don't own the Mass Effect.

Another Realm: Huntress

7/14: This a repost that I've edited and tweaked to bring Nikita more in line to the personality that I had in mind for her. Credit to BJ Hanssen for his advice. In this chapter her actions were an accurate reflection but her internal monologue needed some improvement.

~ Kat

Part II

Date: 08-03-2183

Location: Apollo's Cafe, Zakera Ward, Citadel

I tugged at my plain shirt as I waited for my contact, wishing I could have gone with something a little more formal. Then again, considering the fact that my right arm was entirely immobile, I should probably have considered myself fortunate that I'd been able to change into clean clothes at all.

But still... I was meeting with an Asari Matriarch, and an Alliance issue t-shirt and sweatpants were hardly the kind of clothes that were going to impress her.

Impressing her isn't the point. My inner detective reminded me firmly. Getting information out of her is.

Right... right. Exhaling, I bowed my head and tried to focus, to push the awkward social aspects aside and to remember the plan.

Around me, the open-air cafe was bustling with the lunch rush, the customers and employees unaware that a covert meeting was supposed to be happening in broad daylight. Which was supposed to be the idea, with all the noise and people moving it would be almost impossible for people to easily listen in. Plus no intelligent person would try to assassinate either of us here, not so close to the local C-Sec office. Hell, at least a third of the customers were off-duty officers grabbing lunch.

"Nikita." A smooth voice made me jump, my tanned skin flushing as I realized I'd been a bit too focused on preparing myself. "So good to see you again, my dear."

Matriarch Cynthi T'Ravt was beautiful being. Tall, statuesque, and dressed in a simple black dress that somehow made her seem all the more regal. There was a hint of formal coldness to her bearing, but I could forgive her for that. She, after all, had been fighting a war no one knew about for decades, maybe even centuries. That kind of thing would change anyone.

Or maybe she's not the good but tired person that she presents herself to be.

Plenty of evidence both ways, I reminded myself firmly as rose and bowed my head, the jury is still out.

Today she'd added a bit of a disguise to disrupt her normal features. A fake scar on one side of her jawline, extensions to round her cheeks out a bit, and temporary face-paint to mark her as a T'Beshera rather than a T'Ravt. Just enough to disrupt most facial scanners without leaving her so unrecognizable that I wouldn't place her when we were up close like this.

"Honored Matriarch." I spoke even as I rose my head from its polite nod, "I apologize for my dress."

"It's quite all right, young one." Her blue lips curled a little as she took the seat across from me, and I followed suit far more clumsily. "Is your injury healing well enough?"

"It is ma'am." As if having been waiting for just that moment, the stupid itching started up again and I had to fight to not glare at my own limb. "Doctor Chakwas says I should be able to take the sling off tomorrow, and the cast next week."

"Very good news." The little smile stayed as the waitress, a young maiden Asari, came over to us now that she'd arrived. She ordered an iced tea, while I just went with water. The Matriarch remained silent until she'd withdrawn, her voice lowering to keep the conversation private. "The Enemy has made their next move, child."

I winced a little, despite having expected the news.

The Order that had brought me here, wanted to manipulate me, had apparently existed for millennia. A rogue sect of Priestesses who worshiped the Reapers, believing them to be vessels of renewal, of cleansing. Opposing them were people like Matriarch T'Ravt, who knew that their insanity could doom the galaxy. She had reached out to me after I'd realized that the Order had brought me here, had been manipulating me. She, and those Asari with her, could peer across the dimensions just as the Order could. But unlike those psychopaths, they didn't meddle or pull people across realms, they merely observed, using their vision to gather intelligence on how to best prevent the apocalypse that their Enemy desired.

Or at lest, that's what they claimed to do. From what I'd been told, they couldn't stop others from being pulled over, but they could help free them once they had been. I'd been unlucky, in a sense. T'Ravt and her cell had been freeing a set of twins from the grasp of their own minders when I'd been yanked out of my dreams and into this universe, and so they'd missed my arrival entirely. It hadn't been until I'd joined Shepard's crew that they realized the direness of the situation and worked to help me, and by extension Shepard.

"What did they do?" I asked, my voice equally as quiet. "More things in the Terminus?"

"No." She sighed, her eyes lowering tiredly. "An agent of theirs attacked the Shadow Broker not long ago, seeking to covertly replace him. We were forced to move against them openly, and have been fighting a battle in the darkness since."

I stared at her in shock, even my inner monologue unable to form words for several moments as I tried to process that. "The... they killed the Shadow Broker?"

A solemn nod. "We had a few agents, hidden within the ranks of his organization, but not many. It is all we can do to hold onto the parts of the network local to Asari and Salarian space."

"But.. that's... oh god." My hand rose to shakily run through my short cropped hair. "They still.. they replaced the Broker?"

"And escaped his former base." Another quiet sigh. "We lost most of a cell attempting to storm it. The replacement detonated a nuclear device to cover their escape. It was on an uninhabited world, so no civilians were harmed, but our losses... were severe."

"Jesus." I breathed. This was bad. This was seriously fucking bad.

"Quite." She seemed to take a moment to gather herself, maybe remembering friends lost. "Regardless, we must now face the fact that the majority of the Broker's network has been lost to the enemy. It is likely damaged and uncoordinated, but they will recover and I am unsure of our ability to combat them moving forwards. I would advise your Shepard to avoid requesting any information from them."

"Yeah... I will." Shep wouldn't be happy about this, not even a little bit. She knew I had contacts, that there were more people indoctrinated and working for the Reapers than just Saren, but that didn't mean she liked it. Especially with the fact that I wouldn't tell her who the Matriarch was, beyond the fact that I trusted her. After all... if one Spectre could be turned, so could another.

And besides, T'Ravt might have been a bit cold, but she'd done a lot of good. We'd have never caught the people Saren and Benezia had been trying to sneak onto the Citadel if she hadn't tipped us off.

My inner cynic sighed and rolled her eyes. The harder you try to convince yourself that she's trustworthy and good the less it seems like you actually trust her.

"In the meantime." The Matriarch continued, "We must remain vigilant. Do you believe you've located any other agents of the enemy?"

I shook my head. "Not since that madwoman."

"Voya'chi vas Xentha." She supplied, in case I'd forgotten. I hadn't, but that Quarian wasn't the kind of person I liked to think about. Mostly... because she confused the crap out of me. Her actions, and what I'd heard from her companions, said she had more than a few screws loose, and could very easily be the kind of recruit that the enemy would pull in... but as a hitman, or a thug. Not an infiltrator in a small, elite mercenary unit. And there had been honest contempt in her voice at the very idea of working for the Reapers.

My companion continued, not apparently having noticed that I'd suddenly become lost in thought. "Still at large, along with seven others."

"Seven? I thought there were ten or so."

"The conflict over the Shadow Broker's resources allowed us to eliminate several, they were forced to reveal themselves in the fighting." The word 'eliminate' made me wince a little, even if I knew it was necessary. Indoctrination wasn't something that could be overcome, killing them was practically a mercy. "What of the other companions of the trophy taker?"

"They're... odd people." I admitted, "But none of them seemed to be like her. I think she's a lone agent, using their position to get access to several major Warlords."

The Asari frowned a little, leaning back as our drinks were delivered. Again she waited for the waitress to withdraw before speaking over her glass. "What of Shepard's contact? The human who thinks himself Batarian?"

My lips pressed together a bit. "He's a jerk, but I don't think he's evil or indoctrinated. Shepard doesn't either. He's just... kind of an asshole. If we could get him away from Chi, maybe we could explain what she is to him. That could give us an agent in the Terminus who could help us deal with your sister."

"Perhaps." Her tone made it clear that she didn't think that was going to happen.

I fought the urge to lick my lips or betray my sudden bout of nerves in another way. "Shepard needs the information he can give her."

Eyes narrowed as a blue mouth set into a firm line. "You are learning the art of elegant threats, young one."

I flushed, but still felt a little thrum of excitement that I'd gotten that across without saying anything obvious. "Shep wants him alive."

The Matriarch's nose flexed as she exhaled heavily. "Very well. I will not deny that his proximity to the Asari madwomen would be advantageous, but I believe that any chance for redemption will be ignored at best."

Then we'll have to kill him.

"Then..." I swallowed, my momentary pleasure falling away. "If he doesn't understand, or she corrupts him before then... I guess we'll have to do it your way."

There was an almost thoughtful pause, then the elder being nodded firmly. "If that is what Shepard desires, I will accede in this matter."

I hoped she would. I really, really hoped that she would... but I'd have to draw up some plans in case those hopes didn't pan out, as so many others hadn't. "What about the others?"

"Others?" Her head cocked before she nodded in recognition. "Ah, the other agents. None that are within Shepard's reach at this time, though one she should keep an eye on."

"Ok." I let out a breath. "Who?"

"Spectre Tela Vasir."

I felt my face pull into a little frown. I knew her...she'd been with us on Carastes, and she and Shepard... "She's... tainted?"

"Unknown." She shook her head slightly. "However, her sister and many of her extended family on Illium are making quite the profit off of the Terminus War, and have contacts with people I view as either enemy agents or pawns thereof."

I bit my lip, but nodded slowly. "I'll ask Shep to keep an eye on her."

And how exactly are you going to do that? I asked myself silently.

I have no fucking idea. I admitted in return. She's not going to take it well, regardless of how I phrase it.

The Matriarch frowned at me. "Is there a problem?"

Yes, there was. With the Normandy down and the Council refusing to put an expedition together to finish off the Geth, Shepard was being reassigned to more typical Spectre assignments. Specifically she was going to be partnered with Spectre Vasir for the next several months, working their way through the back-log of missions that Nihlus's death and Saren's betrayal had caused.

"She and Shepard are going to be working together, for a while." I admitted quietly.

"I fail to see how that is an issue. If anything it provides an excellent opportunity." Her eyes stayed narrow, her tone quiet but commanding. "What is the problem?"

My mouth opened reflexively to tell her, shutting only when I squeezed my hands tightly together beneath the table. Shepard had told me what she had in confidence, I wouldn't betray it, not even to the Matriarch. "It's Shepard's business, it... it shouldn't be a problem."

T'Ravt regarded me with a cold, aristocratic disdain that told me just how little she believed me. She spent several moments like that before relaxing, her pleasant demeanor only returning after she had taken several sips of her tea. "...Very well. I have additional information on what is left of Arterius's network."

We spent the next twenty minutes or so talking about possibly indoctrinated Turians. Who they were, where they were placed. The odds of them having been exposed to the Reaper, or simply being personally loyal to Saren. A few were actual mercenaries or posing as such, operating out in the Traverse, and I memorized what she told me about them. In all probability we'd end up in that region of space sooner rather than later, and I knew Shepard would want to go after them if she could.

The Matriarch remained calm and concise, the momentary anger not returning. By the time we were finished she was back to her normal self, rising politely as she finished her last cup of tea and thanked me for meeting with her.

She had just turned to go when she paused, and gave me a small smile. "While I do approve of you attempting to learn the game, young one, consider a less... obvious individual to back you up in the future."

I winced a little as she left, ducking my head a bit. There was a quiet, lyrical chuckle, and then she was gone.

Chewing on my lip, I waited nearly fifteen minutes, drinking another water and paying the bill. After I was sure that enough time had gone by, I rose and walked over to a nearby table. There was a single occupant, a massive, tan-skinned man who's muscles were bulging through his cheap shirt. He looked as uncomfortable and out of place as it was possible to be. He glanced up at me as I approached, broad features quirking in a silent question. "She says I should have a less obvious person backing me up."

Lieutenant James Vega let his mouth pull into a wide grin. "I thought that was the idea."

"Yeah." I started to glance around, only for a smaller man to show up on my left side as if by magic. I jumped slightly, only to find a hand on my back keeping me still. "Christ!"

"Relax." He had the same Latin features as James, just on a small, lean frame that was currently concealed in business casual clothing. His face was plain, his height below average, there was almost nothing remarkable about him at all. For all the world, he looked like a corporate drone taking a quick lunch. I'd met him several times now, and had even seen him on recruitment posters, and I still found myself not recognizing him.

He was just so... unremarkable.

Lancer rifles are unremarkable too. Detective Nikita reminded herself. That doesn't make them any less deadly. If anything, it makes them more so, because people forget the fact that it's still a gun.

Which was entirely true. I knew better than to trust appearances, and despite the fact that he was Shepard's friend I had to fight back a shudder at being touched by the Butcher of Torfan. "She had three Commandos watching from disparate points around the cafe. Two left with her, one stayed for ten minutes before leaving."

I swallowed heavily. "You heard what she said?"

"Your mic was working quite well." Commander John Anders bowed his head slightly, waving for James to rise so that we could head back to the Embassy. "And it was intelligent of you to bring us with to evaluate your contact. But for now I believe we should discuss things in private, Detective. I am confident of my observational skills, but it is more than merely possible that we are still being watched."

I felt my face heat up a little, but I nodded, and the three of us got moving.

Next up is Part III

Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."

Thanks, Kat

Review Responses:

Ungoliant → Several things. Shepard's had eight months to consider it, analyze it, and come up with her own conclusions about how Nikita knew things. How she acts now isn't how she reacted when first told. Second, the first chapter of AR: Arrival had the Matriarch more or less stating that the CO would not know info from all three games.

5 Coloured Walker → Cieran played all three games, but even when he first showed up his memory of them wasn't perfect. A lot of the fine details escaped him (My rule of thumb is if I have to look it up, he doesn't know it. Example: He knew the Shadow Broker's ship rode a planet with constant storms, but he had no idea what it's name was.)

griezz → This chapter might provide a bit more light onto just what the Matriarch is up to, and how many lies she's spun together.

BJ Hanssen → I elected to personify the internal voice because... well, she's had an Asari Matriarch re-arranging things in her brain. She's not exactly a pillar of mental stability, not anymore than Cieran is.