A/N: And so this story reaches ten chapters and more than fifty-thousand words. As much as I had plenty of ideas for what I could include in this fanfic when I first considered actually writing it, truth be told I never would have guessed that I would have gotten this far when I began not far shy of two months ago. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to support this story, even if it was only by checking to see if there was a new update every once in a while. It really does mean the world.

It may take slightly longer for the next chapter to come out than normal. When I started this story I had much less of an idea how to write in this particular fashion than I do now, being unaware as to where things such as full-stops should go when a character says something (inside or outside the quotation marks). Therefore I am going to tweak and hopefully fix some of the issues with my earlier chapters, which I feel are less polished than the last few I have written in this regard. I am not checking the entire story, so it shouldn't prove to be too long of a delay.

I am sorry if anyone is frustrated by this, but I should be able to deal with some of these mistakes pretty quickly.

As always, it is a pleasure to write for fellow fans such as yourselves.

Chapter 10: The Link

Silence hung heavy in the grime-choked air as the solitary figure ran between the areas left unlit by the dim lights that sporadically dotted the ceiling of the corridor. Fear filling every fibre of it's being, the individual glanced backwards repeatedly, only to be met with the sight of rust covered walls. Nothing else was there, nothing perceptible at least, but the figure pushed on desperately. It had to get away, had to leave it far behind.

It had tried. It had really tried to obey for the past few weeks, but the urge had proven too strong. Eventually the vorcha had craved the taste of fresh meat so much that his belly had felt like it was on fire and a skull-shattering pain had filled his head. He had then waited in a dark alcove, desperate for an unsuspecting victim to walk by. After a few hours a figure had appeared in the distance. His stomach had growled in delight at the sight in front of him, even though the prey was tall and wore strange armour, all in black save for its mask, which also featured red and grey.

As the strange figure drew closer though, hunger oh such hunger, had given way to fear. The prey didn't smell right. It smelled wrong, like a predator. Death hung around it, the putrid stench soon becoming overpowering. The figure had made straight for him, its foot-falls echoing throughout the area that the vorcha had been hiding in.

So he had run.

It had been hours now, but still he didn't feel safe. The other one, the one who had told him not to eat anyone else had smelled strange too, but he hadn't smelled wrong. The stench of this new one seemed to follow him relentlessly as the vorcha dove through the winding corridors of Omega to escape him. Not fast enough, he wasn't fast enough. The creature would find him eventually, somehow he just knew that.

His exhaustion finally overwhelmed him and he crawled spent to the end of the corridor before turning to look back the way he had come. He shrieked as he saw the figure for the first time in hours, standing silently at the other end only twenty metres away. The vorcha tried to summon any last reserves of energy, but starvation had taken its toll and he barely managed to flip himself back onto his front to keep crawling.

An invisible hand seemed to tighten around his leg and he screamed as he was pulled back towards the monster. His talons left gouges in the floor as he tried desperately to halt himself but he still continued to be pulled along. The hand then turned him the right way up and he stared in terror into the pitiless mask of the hunter.

The creature stood there for a moment observing him. It then reached forward smoothly and pressed a finger to his forehead before he could react. He screamed as white hot agony filled his skull, probing fingers seeming to reach deep into his brain rifling, searching for something. It then formed a claw with its other hand and the last thing the vorcha heard was a splintering noise.

The figure calmly examined the corpse in front of it before turning to the nearest wall, drawing its lightsaber as it did so. He had waited long enough; it was time for their second meeting.

It had now been a month since the arrangement with Aria, and still there had been no sign of him.

Rassen groaned quietly to himself and began absentmindedly tossing his lightsaber into the air, catching it, and then repeating the process over and over. Years of meditation and reflection had taught him the value of patience, but in truth his was running out. He was as ready as he was ever going to be. The upgrades he had implemented to the Avenger had proven even more effective than he had hoped; allowing the weapon to shoot thirty per-cent faster than it would have originally, with the decline in accuracy that accompanied it being sufficiently mitigated by the scope and his hybrid heat sink system proving effective at coping with the excess heat generated.

Furthermore, part of the other equipment that he had originally ordered was also ready. Rassen glanced across from where he was leaning against the living room wall in the direction of the workshop. His new omni-tool was in there, currently running through a series of tests. He was fairly confident that they would be completed successfully though, he had already had the device run through them plenty of times.

The new device was capable of running far more sophisticated military software than the one he and Shaela had retrieved from the batarians what felt like a lifetime ago. Specifically, it had a flamethrower function, which he knew from experience could prove very effective against Jedi and Sith under the right conditions. While unlikely to be fatal, upon being struck with a gout of fire, a Force user could be left blinded, along with becoming panicked if the attack kept up. Despite the near mythic status Jedi and Sith held among many of the citizens of both the Republic and the Empire, they were just as capable of making mistakes in the right situations. Being set on fire definitely qualified as one of those.

Unfortunately however, some of what he had ordered, such as a crate of flashbang grenades, had not arrived. The salarian shopkeeper had claimed that despite his best efforts, he had been unable to obtain anything aside from the omni-tool, which Rassen had only actually received a few days ago. He had then cancelled the rest of the order. At this rate he had begun to suspect that the salarian might simply run off with the money he had been given instead of finding the grenades. The man had claimed on several occasions that he was putting himself at risk trying to acquire them, and Rassen suspected that he would eventually cut his losses and run. The omni-tool would have to be enough.

Of course finding out all depends on when he next rears his head.

Deciding to check on the progress of the omni-tool's calculations, Rassen left the living room, went to the workshop, and reattached the device to his forearm. Perusing the results, he nodded in satisfaction. The flamethrower software was still functioning correctly as he had suspected. Truthfully that was all his life had become at this point; preparing for his eventual confrontation with the Sith by checking his equipment when he wasn't practising lightsaber techniques. Well, aside from Shaela's training sessions of course. The quarian's enthusiasm was infectious day after day as they shot at holographic targets and researched various medical matters. His friend's eager personality helped to sooth his frustration about the lack of progress regarding the Sith… apart from when they used the Avengers.

As if on que, the quarian in question suddenly burst into his room and bumped into him, causing Rassen to rock back slightly on his heels before he regained his balance.

"Shaela, what's the matter?" He asked, quickly looking his friend over in worry. The last time she had collided with him, she was being chased by a gang of thugs who had tried to kill the two of them. Realisation suddenly dawned. "Did Aria message you because my omni-tool was busy running tests and she couldn't get through? Does she have anything new on the Sith?"

Shaela blinked up at him in confusion before seeming to notice their proximity and backed away. "I, um, no that's not what… Oh keelah I shouldn't have just barged in here like that. I just over-reacted and am really worried and need your help!" The quarian finished breathlessly, looking up at him with her silver eyes wide behind her visor.

Rassen gently guided her to the bed before sitting down next to her. "Whatever it is, Shaela I'll gladly help you. Now, what has happened?"

The quarian held up her wrist, which Rassen suddenly realised was emitting an incessant beeping noise. "M-my family are trying to call me."

Shaela bit her lip as her friend stared at her without moving. After a few moments of silence, aside from the beeping of her omni-tool, Rassen seemed to regain his wits. Shaking his head incredulously, the human then glanced back at her before responding.

"I don't… I mean to say isn't that a good thing? Why are you so worried Shaela? With the way that you barged in here I thought that there was some kind of emergency."

Shaela blushed upon realising how her entrance must have first appeared. "It's not… well it wouldn't be a problem normally, but as I'm on my Pilgrimage the circumstances are different and so…" Shaela pushed down the frustration she felt at her difficulty in explaining before continuing. "You remember that I tried to call them a month ago not long after we first met? They must have only just gotten the message as the Fleet only sporadically passes a functioning comm buoy."

"Ah, I understand now. You mentioned that Pilgrims don't typically contact anyone in the Fleet while on Pilgrimage, since the individual is supposed to prove their worth without relying on old friends or family." Rassen looked at her sympathetically. "Are you worried that they may be angry or disappointed at you for calling home?"

Shaela nodded vigorously to her friend. "Yes, exactly. Pilgrims are only supposed to contact the Fleet when there is an emergency of some kind. At the time we had just survived several near-death experiences and so it seemed appropriate to call them." She glanced at him nervously. "I'm afraid now that since that was so long ago…"

"They might not believe you, or at least think that you're exaggerating."

Shaela sighed sadly. "No, my parents will believe me. I'm more concerned about my sister, Rissel. She really looks up to me since I'm five years older and if she finds out that I had to call home…"

"She won't think any less of you."

"That's what I'm-" Shaela blurted, before realising that Rassen hadn't said what she had expected. She looked at the human, who calmly looked back at her as she began kicking her feet nervously, her heels gently thumping against the side of the bed. "Do you really think that she'll understand? I mean she's never left the Fleet and she was so proud of me when it was time for my Pilgrimage…" She felt herself trail off awkwardly as Rassen gently placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before replying.

"I never knew my family, Shaela… well, my birth family at least. Master Dorass was like a mother to me. I know that now, in part because whenever I failed at something I was more concerned about making her disappointed than I was busy being disappointed with myself." Rassen then chuckled softly, and Shaela couldn't help grinning slightly behind her visor. Even if she couldn't see his face, she knew that her friend was smiling fondly at a particular memory.

Rassen then continued. "Whenever I failed though, she was always understanding and helped me find the drive to try again until I succeeded. If your sister loves you, Shaela then she will try to understand what you've gone through. I'm sure that I can back you up if there is any scepticism, though I seriously doubt that there will be."

Shaela beamed at him and quickly wrapped her arms around the Jedi's middle, squeezing him tightly as he sat there in surprise. Upon realising that her friend hadn't moved, the quarian quickly released him before pushing off from the bed.

"I'm going to go and… and call them now. I-I'll come back and knock if I, um, need your support." Shaela quickly ducked out of her friend's room before he had a chance to answer, and turned her mind to her parents and sister before she could get too wrapped up in her confused feelings regarding Rassen.

Five minutes passed and Rassen remained sitting in the exact same position on his bed, still trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. While he had been hugged (or initiated a hug) only a handful of times over the course of his life, they had all felt very much the same. A prime example would have been when he had hugged Shaela after she had told him that he could stay with her for as long as he needed when he had first arrived in her galaxy. In the heat of the moment, after one extremely long, confusing and frankly terrifying day, he had acted on instinct and simply embraced the quarian. It had been the result of strong emotion, as had the handful of embraces that had followed it. This latest one had in that sense been no different.

So why had it felt different?

Rassen replayed the moment over in his head for possibly the tenth time. Shaela had looked up at him, gratitude brimming in her silver eyes, before quickly lunging forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. None of that was unfamiliar; the same had happened when he had told her that he believed that her people had a future better than they perhaps expected. The one difference though had been what followed after, the thing that had surprised him so much that he hadn't returned the embrace.

When she had held him, Shaela had let out an almost silent sigh of contentment.

Understanding began to slowly dawn on Rassen, before being replaced by even more confusion than before. Unless he was mistaken, which he might well be given his lack of experience in this arena, Shaela was becoming attached to him.

Given that there had only been one person in his life that he had ever been truly close to, Rassen considered that he might well be looking too deeply into Shaela's behaviour. If this had been the only time that the quarian had done anything even slightly strange then he probably would have dismissed it.

The thing was though that when he really thought about it, Shaela had been acting slightly differently around him for a while now. Over the last two weeks or so she had suddenly stopped complaining, as least as vocally as before, about rifle practise. The quarian had made it clear on multiple occasions that she felt like she wasn't improving with the gun and had tried to persuade him to let her focus entirely on using her pistol. Soon after he had modified his own Avenger, Rassen had then upgraded hers as well. Shaela had then toned down her complaints regarding the weapon, and he remembered thinking that such a sudden change had been surprising. Shaela certainly still hated the M-8 Avenger, but had begun showing that emotion less outwardly. He had disregarded it at the time though, chalking it up to her accepting that it would be a good idea to be proficient with more than one kind of firearm.

There had certainly been a change in Shaela's behaviour towards him, but despite his sudden suspicions, Rassen could almost convince himself that Shaela had simply decided to stop making her frustration regarding the rifle known and instead thought that channelling that energy into becoming better with it was more productive. Almost, but not entirely. Just what had that sigh meant?

Rassen groaned before running his hands along his mask. Looking back through the years that he had spent training with Master Dorass had revealed to him that sometimes things were not always as they first seemed. It might well be the case that Shaela had started to view him as more than a friend, even if she didn't realise so herself. Assuming that was happening, it could lead to all manner of complications down the line. Chief among them being how he felt about the issue.

Despite his obvious inexperience with emotional attachment, at least until fairly recently, Rassen at least understood the danger associated with it. As much as he now knew that he had had loved his old Master and seen her as much more than just his teacher, there was a good reason as to why such a close bond was deeply frowned upon by the vast majority of Jedi. Emotional attachment was virtually impossible to avoid entirely; simply building a lightsaber often resulted in the Jedi becoming attached to it. Strong emotional attachment though, the kind that could impair judgement and disrupt balance, often proved to have devastating consequences.

So many examples could be taken from not only his own galaxy and the Jedi, but also this one. The most obvious example that he could think off from his own was Revan and his decision to defy the will of the Council and face the Mandalorians some three centuries ago. The young man had refused to stay out of the war between the Republic and the warrior people while the latter had been slaughtering their way across Republic space. The legendary Jedi had eventually defeated the society that had killed or ruined the lives of countless people and been hailed as a hero. He had soon returned as a far greater threat however, and he and his apprentice Malak had very nearly defeated the Republic and Jedi utterly.

Rassen didn't disagree with Revan's motivation for fighting the Mandalorians. The warrior society had needed to be stopped as soon as possible, considering how much destruction they had caused and how much would have followed if no action had been taken by anyone in the Jedi Order. Yet the fall of Revan and Malak indicated that becoming too involved emotionally could prove to be one's undoing. Even if it was not the primary cause of a problem, an emotional attachment could exacerbate it hugely under the right circumstances.

As for this galaxy, Shaela's own people were the best example that he could think of. Rassen had studied every significant race in this galaxy since arriving and was fascinated by the conflict between the quarians and their creations the geth. When the quarians had been forced to flee their home world and colonies, the other races had failed to come to their assistance. A lack of diplomatic communication, coupled with the geth rebelling, had resulted in the quarians becoming pariahs in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy and had resulted in suspicion and distrust among the quarians towards the other races as well. The Citadel Council had been quick to let emotion rule its judgment and refused aid to the quarians, and now three-hundred years later the latter were still largely confined to their Migrant Fleet, the rest of the galaxy forfeiting what the quarians could offer it in return.

Rassen didn't pretend to understand either Revan's fall or the banishment of the quarians fully. He hadn't even been alive at the time of either event and so didn't understand what the exact circumstances of each situation had been. Nonetheless, lessons could often be learned from history, one of those being that becoming too attached to something or someone could result in disaster. In short, emotional attachment could prove dangerous, particularly for Jedi, as Revan had proved.

If Shaela was interested in him in that way then eventually they would have to talk about it. A poorly thought out sentence or action followed by a poorly thought out response could be enough to seriously affect their friendship, possibly even damage it irreparably.

A month ago, before he had awoken to find himself in Shaela's galaxy, the thought of someone being interested in him romantically would have terrified him. The implications of what could come about as a result, regardless of whether he felt the same way could have been disastrous. A mere month later and the implications were still the same, the only difference being that it was possible that it was no longer a hypothetical situation. Shaela'Tole nar Kilal could be interested in him romantically. The idea didn't fill Rassen with the same fear that it would have just one month ago.

It was his acceptance of that possibility that terrified him now.

Unaware of Rassen's raging thoughts, Shaela stood in her small bedroom, eyes fixed on her omni-tool as the device slowly exchanged information with the Kilal. Despite the vast distance between her and it, the connection should have been almost instantly achieved as opposed to taking the several minutes that it so far had.

They must be having trouble with communications again. Dad often complains that there is only so much he can do when the hardware has been operating far longer than it was ever designed to.

The beeping finally ceased however and Shaela jumped in surprise before quickly transmitting the call to the battered terminal that stood on a chair in front of her bed. She and Rassen had spent most of the money that Aria had given them at this point, resulting in the small terminal that she bought being one of the cheapest that they could find. Despite its age however, the turian-built console still functioned surprisingly well. Shaela quickly sat down on her bed, turned to face the small terminal on the chair opposite her and then finally opened the call.

Despite the situation, Shaela couldn't help smiling as the familiar visor of her sister appeared on the terminal at the same time as her own appearance was transmitted to the Fleet. The green-suited quarian on the screen was fiddling with the corner of her hood, one hand scrunching up the emerald coloured material in worry before she let out a gasp and leaned towards the screen in astonishment.

"Shaela is that you?"

To her surprise, Shaela almost broke down into tears at the familiar sound of her sister's voice. She had of course missed her younger sibling terribly over the months that they had been separated, but had managed to compartmentalise her feelings for the most part. Hearing the worry in her voice though caused her to realise just how much she had missed her, how much she had missed home over the last few months. Sniffling slightly, Shaela managed to get out a response.

"Y-yes Rissel, it's me."

Her younger sister let out another gasp before looking her up and down as best she could through the terminal's screen. "You look so… different. I wasn't entirely sure if it was you at first. Are you alright?"

Shaela quickly gave herself a once over, realising for the first time that despite her best efforts, she looked nowhere near as presentable as when she had first left the Fleet. Her suit remained intact, all of its seals working properly. However, the decorative cloth that covered the rubber-like material of the suit itself had faded in colour due to the stress of living on Omega, with there being small rips and tears in places. While she certainly wasn't in any kind of danger from the damage to those areas, it did mean that the difficulties of the past months since arriving on the station were apparent to another quarian. They knew what to look for, while a member of another race would have likely just assumed that she was even worse off than was normal for her people.

"It's been a difficult few months, Rissel. I'm okay now though, so don't worry about it."

Rissel's eyes narrowed behind her green visor and Shaela winced internally. She knew full well what was coming and also that it wouldn't be pleasant.

"You called the Fleet a month ago sis, and you're one of the smartest people I know! You wouldn't have done that unless it was serious. You can't just say that it's in the past and doesn't matter, not when it must have been so horrible for you at the time." Rissel's voice then dropped to its normal level. "I'm… I'm sorry, Shaela. You don't need me shouting at you after everything you must have gone through, I just want you to tell me what happened. We've just reached a comm buoy near the edge of salarian space after not being able to get near one in weeks and then ten minutes ago I found that you'd trying calling a month ago. I'm just worried about you."

Shaela felt a tear roll down one of her cheeks. Despite how quarians struggled through life for what little they could get, she couldn't help feeling immensely lucky in that moment. Very few quarians had siblings, owing to the strict rules that ensured a constant population level in the Fleet. Out of the thousands, perhaps even millions of quarians who were only children, the ancestors had seen fit to bless her with a sister. She slowly reached out towards Rissel and the other quarian reciprocated, the two sisters being there for one another despite the countless light years separating them.

"I'm okay now Rissel, I really mean that. About a month ago though I was in very serious trouble and in all honesty I'm very lucky to be alive right now." Shaela confessed.

Rissel whispered back softly. "What happened?"

Shaela smiled and noticed that her sister brightened considerably upon recognising her change in body language.

"I made a friend, a very interesting friend."

Breath in, breath out. In and out. Focus.

Rassen frowned angrily to himself as the usual peace he found while meditating eluded him yet again. No matter how much he tried to focus, how much he tried to clear his mind, he was unable to do so. Whenever he encountered a problem, he would normally enter a meditative pose and simply think, letting his mind arrive at the best possible answer. It had worked for him effectively in the past, with many situations that had been difficult to react to being substantially lessened in how daunting they were once he had calmed himself and become focused on finding a solution. Yet this time it was different. He was walking in unfamiliar territory and didn't honestly know if his suspicions about what was happening were correct or whether he was imagining things.

If I'm imagining it though then I should be able to find more flaws with my guess than I have been able to.

A sudden beeping from his omni-tool frustrated yet another attempt to find any kind of tranquillity. In fact, Rassen was so occupied with trying to focus that the noise caused him to flinch slightly. He quickly recovered from his surprise when he realised what the alert meant. Someone was trying to contact him and since Shaela was busy talking to her family, there was only one person that it could be.

Aria

Rassen hit the accept button and the Pirate Queen's voice issued forth from the device. "I may have something for you, Voratt."

His mouth was dry as he responded. "What?"

"A dead vorcha, killed by some kind of pressure around his throat that crushed the windpipe. Hell of a force needed to kill one like that, owing to their healing factor."

"What makes you so sure that he's the one responsible?" Rassen asked, frowning. A being such as a krogan would be capable of crushing a vorcha's throat. This alone wasn't enough for Aria to be suspicious surely?

Aria's voice was completely serious as she responded, the usual smugness gone for once. "Because he left a message." The omni-tool emitted a slightly less shrill beeping than it had before, which indicated that he had been sent an image. Rassen quickly pressed a series of commands on his omni-tool and looked at the photograph, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he processed it.

The vorcha, the same vorcha that he had encountered a month ago he realised with a start, lay dead on the floor, its face contorted in an expression of agony. On the wall behind it someone had carved a single word into the metal, which had bubbled at the edges of each letter. Some kind of cutting beam had been used, the kind powerful enough to slice through metal without difficulty. There were several kinds of device that Rassen could think of that were capable of doing so. Considering what he had learned of the technology of this galaxy though and the way that the letters seemed to have been hacked into the surface of the metal…

It was almost certainly the result of a lightsaber.

The word itself was clearly meant for him given how general it was. Anyone else would have had no idea where exactly the word referred to, or why exactly it was important. Even Shaela wouldn't have had an exact idea of where the Sith wanted him to go.

Storeroom.

The place where his journey in this galaxy had begun. The place where the Sith had looked for him and where he had in turn looked for answers. Somewhere that no one else, even Aria with her vast connections would be able to find on short notice. After all, how many storerooms were there on Omega?

Whatever his reasoning, the Sith had decided that now was the perfect time for the two of them to meet again. The former had every advantage; he had chosen the time, the location and was simply more powerful than Rassen. He only had his armour, lightsaber, upgraded rifle and omni-tool, and not a lot else. After waiting a month though, one thing was certain.

He wouldn't keep the Sith waiting for long.