All thoughts of remorse for Dawes changed immediately into concern for Haro, and they ran off in search of him. Clianala lead the way, Closely followed by Sunni.

They found him laying against a fence post, surrounded by the prisoners and by the Loki mechs, who seemed to have formed a protective cordon. They pushed through the crowd and gathered around the dying Quarian, who was fighting for each breath. He seemed quite relaxed, his arms folded neatly across his stomach, rising and falling with a slow, gentle rhythm. Some of the prisoners were singing the Asari version of the last rites, a beautiful, mournful song. Frank took one look at Haro's broken visor and swollen eyes and knew they was nothing they could do.

And then it started to rain.

Clianala raised his torso onto her knee."Hold on in there Harry, we can get you out of here, I can call the ship and the doctor can treat you till we get you to the fleet, just...hold on."

Bothar scanned Haro with his omni-tool and placed a finger inside his mask, pressing lightly on the small bony area between the eye and the start of the nose. He shook his head. " It's a kind offer but...even if you're doctor had Dextro-safe antibiotics, I doubt he'd make it off world, let alone back to the fleet." Haro raised one of his hands and summoned up enough strength to speak. "Sunni," he croaked, his voice thin and broken "Where's Sunni?"

Sunni dashed to his side, placing a hand over his. "I'm here, Father." She said, working hard to keep herself together. Though she'd been expecting something like this, but the crushing finality was almost too much to bear. She couldn't take this, not again. Haro raised his other hand and pointed to the woods. He softly murmured something and Sunni had to lean right over his mask to hear what he was saying. Frank didn't know what Haro had told her, but he could guess by the determined nod Sunni gave as she listened that it was something to do with Kahln. Sunni snatched up her knife, the only relic she had of her mother and charged off into the forest like a hell-hound. Clianala tried to stop her but Frank pulled her back. As she fade out of sight, He knew there would be no stopping her.

"I...do not fear death," Haro managed to say, and attention returned to him. "but I will not let that bosh'tet outlive me."

...

Kahln continued to run through the forest, trampling the leaf litter underfoot with every stride. He didn't know why he kept running, it wasn't as if anyone was following him. There was still no sign of Dawes, which if anything came as a relief. He made a note to never allow himself to be duped into working with a human again. It was far too much hard work keeping their natural aggression in check. He wondered if he should have designed the virus to affect them rather than the Asari. It would certainly have opened up a larger market, but with their genetic diversity it would have taken more time. He decided he would just take the money from the Collectors and leave it at that. He'd done enough already.

A twig snapped behind him. Probably nothing. There were no large predators on this planet, and the herbivores were mostly harmless grazers. None the less, he sped up. The last thing he wanted was to reach the escape ship and have to fight some Cerberus oik for it, especially since he didn't have a gun. More noise behind him. There was definitely something out there. He sped up again, but he was old, and with most of his ribs broken he could only run so fast. He was kicking up dead leaves, sprinting to try and reach safety. Rain drops began to congregate on his visor, and he had to keep wiping it in order to see where he was going. He was almost safe, just a little further. Hearing swift footsteps closing in on him he gave up with the visor, running blindly for the tiny amount of extra energy saved that he could put into throwing one leg in front of the other.

It wasn't enough. He felt a searing pain as a heavy object, a person, landed squarely on his back, pushing him face first into the mud. Whoever it was pinned him down by sitting on him, grabbing him by the hood and pulled his head back at an unnatural angle so he could not fight back. Every breath Kahln took was agony, his lungs felt like they were on fire. He felt his attacker slice deeply into his suit, penetrating right down into the lowest layer of skin. To his horror, he felt a hand reach under the skin and tear it open, causing him pain beyond imagining. "For my Mother." The attacker screeched in the Quarian native tongue, and with what remained of his mind Kahln thought he recognised the voice, one of his patients perhaps? "For my Father." The attacker continued, tearing off his visor and pushing him face first into the thick, brown slime that covered the ground and shaking his face violently from side to side, forcing him to choke on the filthy ooze. "For Me." the attacker said, now calmer. She got off Kahln's back and walked down to his knees. Kahln screamed until he was unconscious as she started to hack through his kneecaps.

Sunni looked down at the mutilated body and admired her handiwork. In many ways Kahln hadn't suffered enough, but the main point was that he was dead. She had fulfilled her promise.

...

They had waited about an hour before Sunni returned, clutching Kahln's visor in one hand and her mother's knife in the other. Haro was still talking, and thanked his daughter for finally doing what so many had failed to do. Her crimson suit ran with blood, and Frank didn't even want to guess what she had done to Kahln when she had found him.

"At least we won," Haro joked, his famous sense of humour returning to him at the last. "That's a relief eh Frank?"

"I guess so."

"Oh Cheer up. You're not the one who's dying."

Frank chuckled and smiled a little. "You see Frank, much better." Haro coughed up a large lump of mucus, which Frank mopped up with a rag. "Thankyou. So Clia, does he pass or what?"

"With flying colours, Harry," the spectre answered. She knew becoming a spectre was more complex than that, but she hadn't the heart to tell him so. Though she hadn't known the Quarian long, she respected his skills and the way he was so willing to help others. And deep down, she felt guilty. If she had just checked the lab a little better, he wouldn't have had to jump on Kahln, and wouldn't be there, on the floor, dying. "With flying colours."

"Good. The galaxy needs more people like you protecting it Frank, especially since it won't have me," Haro said, coughing again. "people who like living dangerously."

He gave one more violent cough, and this time there was blood in the fluid. He was nearing the end. He beckoned Sunni and Bothar to him, and they listened against the gap in his helmet. "Your mother would be proud of you Sunni'Danar , as I am. Don't ever forget that. I'm not sure what She'd think about me bowing out surrounded by all these half-dressed Asari, but she'd be proud of you. Take care, and keep doing the fleet proud. Bothar, Old friend. It seems this is our last adventure together. Keep giving Gerrel hell for me, and tell them... tell them I want to be buried."

He summoned up the very last of his strength. "Thankyou, all of you." He said, and his voice tailed off and the lights in his eyes faded and went out. He stopped breathing. Over head, Inquisitor made a pass over the base and prepared to land. Frank picked Haro up and as Clianala gathered the prisoners, he silently carried his comrade to the ship.

...

Six weeks later.

15:00 galactic standard time.

Mourners lodge,Tagaska Funereal World.

The skies over Haro'Danar's funeral were much the same as they were on the planet he had died on, grey and cloudy, with the ever-present threat of rain. Two Turian gravediggers stood at a respectful distance from the small crowd of mourners that was gathered around the Quarian's grave, waiting for the ceremony to finish so they could go about the business of filling in the deep trench his casket was placed in. They were an unlikely mix of species; three Asari, a humans, a Salarian, the rest were Quarian. Frank stood on one side of the priest reading the eulogy, Sunni and Bothar the other. Next to him, holding his hand, stood Soralya, next to her Clianala, her armour polished and waxed to perfection. He swore she never took it off. Next to her stood one of the Asari they had rescued, clutching a wreath to lay on behalf of the others, many of whom were still in hospital. Behind her Blink, who had not actually been invited, waited patiently.

Opposite them, on the Quarian side, the admiralty board (minus admiral Xen) and several members of the Remora crew had come to say goodbye to the illustrious captain. As was customary, any items not actually belonging to the deceased had been removed from the body. Those that did, and were not gifted to anyone in the deceased's will, were distributed among the needy. It had been a surprise to everyone that Haro had changed his will whilst aboard the Inquisitor, and Frank had been even more surprised that he was mentioned. However, before the will was read, there had to be a funeral.

The priest, a Quarian, had been given a speech to read by the admiralty board. It had been specially edited so as not to reveal the nature of Haro's work, but Sunni had made sure it gave full credit to the man's achievements, and ensured it didn't censor any of his politically awkward beliefs. " in the end," the priest concluded "his love of helping others claimed his life, his noble sacrifice ensuring a notorious felon was prevented from wreaking chaos upon the galaxy. Though he never saw his dream of a Quarian people once more protected by an embassy on the citadel, He won many friends and allies for his people, unto whom he was utterly devoted."

The speech was ugly and uncomfortably jingoistic, but Frank knew better than to interrupt. Better he was sycophantically praised than his name dragged through the mud. After the priest was done, they had gathered in the mourners lodge, a short archaic-looking building, for the wake and the reading of the will. Frank and Soralya found a small, comfortable couch to sit on whilst they waited for admiral Raan, the executor of the will, to be ready. Clianala was talking to Bothar by the window. It was the first time they had seen each other since they had returned Haro's body to the Migrant Fleet, and they had a lot to catch up on. Clianala had submitted her report to the council, recommending that Frank be admitted into the spectres, and his induction was in a couple of days. If he was honest, he wasn't looking forward to it. Spectres were expected to be self sufficient, but he had no ship, and the alliance were unlikely to provide one for someone they would have preferred to have executed. Clia had offered to let him use her shuttle while he got started but it was just on loan, He would have to find his own ship eventually. His only consolation was that Clianala had given her permission for Soralya to join him as, In her own words he "was the type that got shot. Often."

Sunni was on the other side of the room, thanking admiral Gerrel for attending. Although Bothar was the more experienced soldier, he had declined the offer to replace Haro'Danar as head of the special operations office , citing a wish to retire. And so Sunni had been given the job. It seemed strange to see the little girl who had once tried to poison him giving orders, but Frank knew Sunni was every bit as brave and as brilliant as her father, and far more ruthless. She would do fine in charge. He looked at Soralya. She looked pale. "would you like a drink?" he asked.

"No thankyou, I'm alright." She answered. "I think the admiral's about to start anyway."

Admiral Raan was indeed preparing to read the will, having finished her discussions with the fleets lawyers and financiers. Keeping such a large fleet running meant the Quarians needed almost as many civil servants as soldiers, and though their laws were relatively simple, somehow they always ended up bogged down in debate. Even something as simple as a will was a kafuffle, because the admiralty board had a say over how property was distributed in the fleet .In this case it seemed, there was something of interest. Raan beckoned her fellow admirals over to the ceremonial desk the funeral company had provided. Although Frank couldn't hear them from where he was sitting, he knew enough about Quarian body language to tell they were arguing.

Frank got up and walked over to the bar. The lodge was designed to cater for all different types of funeral party, including the wild ones. A selection of Quarian drinks had been brought from the fleet and laid out on a table, but he couldn't drink those. "Do you have anything human?" he asked the Turian behind the bar, who reached under the counter and pulled out something reassuringly brown. Frank paid for his drink and went back to his seat. Several more Quarians, Including Sunni , had joined the debate that was raging over by the desk. Clianala and Bothar approached the sofa from behind, confused as to what was going on.

"What the hell are they doing over there?" Clianala inquired.

"Keelah only knows," said Bothar. "maybe Haro owned something he shouldn't."

Admiral Raan raised a hand, apparently settling the matter. "Ultimately," she said in an imperious voice. "It is up to me as executor to decide what is in the best interests off the affected parties. And I for one feel we should honour the exact wordings of the will as it was at the time of Haro'Danar's death . Now if you could all step away we can get on with the proceedings." The crowd dissipated, a lot of irritated looking Quarians dragging their heels as they returned to their seats. Raan sat behind the desk, a holographic screen displaying details of the will for her to read off of.

"I, Captain Haro'Danar vas Remora Nar Moreh, being of sound mind, and revoking all other previous wills..."

"Get on with it Raan!"snapped admiral Korris. Sunni gave him a murderous look, but Raan simply carried on reading.

"to my daughter, Sunni'Danar, I leave; My Knife, that she may carry it alongside her mother's , my left Omni-tool, all modifications made to it being solely her property, to be copied only with her permission, I'm looking at you Zorah, and my gun.

To my long-standing friend Bothar'Rattan vas Remora, I leave my right Omni-tool, see above, and my bottle of wine from the homeworld, to be opened at his choosing."

Several more entries followed, mostly minor personal trinkets handed to collegues and friends. Frank had to stifle a laugh when he left Admiral Xen his "spare waste filter and backup eating equipment, hint,hint."

"And finally, to my Friend and ally Francis James Rekki, by way of apology for once forcibly abducting him, and to assist with his new duties as a Spectre, I leave my ship, the Remora. Treat her well."

Franks jaw dropped in shock. Several Quarians were looking at him, envious that he should be given the grand prize off the will. Most of them were probably also annoyed that the ship they just had re-fitted had been handed to a human. Sod them. What about Sunni?. She was head of the SOO, and besides she'd been born aboard that ship, surely it was only right she take it? He looked over to her, but she simply nodded to him. "Take her Frank. Remora was my parents' ship, I need to start something new. I would be scared to use her the way I should, The way she deserves . That's why father gave her to you. I think he wanted you to carry on where he left off, go places he couldn't reach."

"I'm...honoured, Sunni," he said, rising above the resentment of the crowd. He stood up and embraced Sunni, Happy that at least part of Haro lived on through her. "I promise I'll do the best I can to do what your father would have wanted." He broke off the hug and stepped back, turning to admiral Raan. "Where do I pick her up?"

" The Remora is currently docked in orbit of this planet, the crew have already been transferred to other vessels. I will send the forms to transfer her registry over to you shortly."

"C'mon," said Clia "I'll drive you there." she said, heading for the door. She didn't do funerals. Frank said his goodbyes to Sunni and the admirals before he and Soralya followed the ill-tempered Asari to the shuttle. They left behind the artificial austerity of the mourning lodge and walked together through the rows and rows of graves. As they neared the ship they became aware that someone was following them. They stopped, waiting for the unseen figure to reveal themselves. Out of the mist emerged Bothar, his dust brown environment suit coated in a thin veil of dew. "Hello again," Frank asked "can I do something for you or have you just come to say goodbye? "

"I have a favour to ask you." he replied.