Author's Note: Just wanted to say thanks to all those who have followed and favorited, and especially those who have left nice reviews! Also, happy new year to all! :)

CHAPTER TEN: No Man's Land

On any other day, the woodland landscape might have been the very image of serenity. The last vestiges of mist blanketed the forest floor, and golden rays of sunlight kissed the earth through slight gaps in the verdant canopy. Small squirrel-like creatures scampered over branches while a pair of unseen birds whistled softly somewhere above. And yet, Vaughn pushed the sweet melody from his mind to instead check down the sights of his rifle, seeing how many more potential enemies had arrived.

"I am tracking three more since you last asked," Ranid said, not needing to be prompted.

"That's about what – twenty? And those are just the ones we can see," lamented Vaughn.

The pair stood at the forest's edge, where a wide paved area sat before them. The area was about the size of two football fields back on Earth, with a half-constructed four-story building standing in its center. Its general structure was in place, but the walls had been unfinished, and the window panes had never been installed. It was a hollow shell of a building, and that fact was probably the reason why the Reapers hadn't leveled it. A single rusted signpost sat in front, displaying the barely legible logo of 'Vilmarc Stellar Imports'.

On the opposite side of the paved area, Vaughn could see shapes moving in the far tree line. Ranid had a much easier time managing these shapes, for his visor was able to differentiate and track the heat signatures.

Vaughn activated the comm line that he shared with the rest of his squad. "Report in."

"Nothing suspicious on our end." Ezelle was the first to respond from her position with Kiros somewhere to the north.

"All clear here to the south." Nyla's distinct turian voice followed soon after. "Although, I do think Corporal Volkov here is getting a little bored."

"I don't enjoy wasting time," Alexei's voice cut in. "We're just sitting and watching, doing nothing."

"It's what Colonel Fletcher insisted upon," Vaughn said tiredly. "He refused to meet until the morning's mist cleared – probably because he's just as worried about being ambushed as we are."

"I get that. But this is all time the Antietam can't afford to waste."

Vaughn didn't respond, but he agreed with Alexei. The night before, he had gone back and forth with Fletcher for the better part of an hour, and he had just barely convinced the colonel to meet outside of Illyria. The concessions were that neither Matriarch Isara nor any of her people were allowed within a kilometer of the meeting place and that Vaughn would have to arrive first on the rooftop of this abandoned building.

"Once I step out there, I'll be at Fletcher's mercy," Vaughn thought to himself. "If this doesn't work out, I'm probably not making it out of there alive." Still, Vaughn knew it was safer than meeting Fletcher in Illyria, and the forest location did give his team an opportunity to remain hidden and in position.

Vaughn also had to admit that the building made for a decently neutral location. The wide, paved areas made unseen approach impossible, and the structure's height would make it difficult for either party on the ground to take a shot. However, in this, Vaughn saw an advantage. For Vaughn had Ranid – an extremely skilled sniper, and one with access to some of the most advanced targeting technology in the galaxy.

"It's time," Vaughn announced over the comm channel. He then turned to Ranid. "Keep your eyes on me during the meeting. Do you remember the signal?"

"If you tap the back of your neck twice... then I am to open fire."

"Only to disable, not to kill."

"Not to kill," Ranid agreed.

Vaughn then began to strip away his weapons – another condition Fletcher had demanded. He placed them by his quarian comrade and then, with a deep breath, he stepped out from among the trees.

To Vaughn's relief, there was no immediate hail of gunfire. Still, as Vaughn walked toward the dilapidated structure, there was the definite sensation of being watched. He had no doubt that dozens of weapons were being trained on him, and although he had shields, the large paved area made for a merciless killing ground. The walk to the building's entrance felt like an eternity, but ultimately proved uneventful. As he came to the doorway – which was unsurprisingly missing a door – Vaughn gave a final glance at the woodland surroundings before stepping inside.

As Vaughn climbed the stairs and traversed the floors, his muscles tensed in anticipation of an ambush. However, the interior of the building was just as shabby and bare as the exterior and populated only by shadows. Stepping onto the roof, Vaughn could see that he had a clear view to the east, where a narrow road snaked toward the remains of Illyria. Other than that, there were trees as far as the eye could see and snow-tipped mountains to the north. Clear skies lingered above – it really was a gorgeous day – but as he looked up, Vaughn couldn't help but picture the wounded Antietam falling to its doom.

Vaughn pinged the frigate for what must have been the tenth time that day, yet received only a distorted feedback. The frigate's short-range comm relay was evidently still down. He was anxious to get an update from Captain Harper, but he knew that she must have her hands full in trying to get systems back online. Vaughn began to pace; the feeling of powerlessness was grating.

"Contact." Ranid's voice came through to Vaughn's earpiece. "Three speeder cars en route to the building, approaching via the highway."

"I see them."

As the three speeder cars reached the wide paved area, they fell into formation, with two cars flanking either side of the third, larger car. Vaughn felt a sudden pang of apprehension at seeing three cars, but he quickly realized that if Fletcher intended to storm the building in force, he could've done so already. Instead, the three cars came to a stop in front of the building. And although Vaughn wasn't able to see it from his position, Ranid confirmed over the comm that a single figure had exited the middle vehicle and proceeded inside.

Vaughn's first indication of Colonel Elias Fletcher was the sound of his footsteps as they echoed from the rooftop stairwell. The man seemed to pause every few steps, as if stopping to listen for trouble. When he finally ascended into the midday sun, Fletcher squinted and studied the rooftop carefully. Above his narrowed gaze was a shock of wild silver curls that gave him an almost tumbleweed-like appearance. Though it was somewhat unkempt, his hair was undeniably clean. Indeed, his whole appearance gave the impression of a man who tried to retain some semblance of tidiness. His formal blue-and-gold Systems Alliance uniform was well-worn and faded, but every tear and hole had been mended or patched. His boots were not new by any stretch of the imagination, and yet it was clear that effort had been made to polish them.

"Major Vaughn." Fletcher was the first to speak. He eyed the Spectre insignia on Vaughn's chest piece and gave a surprisingly amicable smile. "I'm pleased to finally meet you in person."

"Good of you to finally show up, colonel," Vaughn replied in a toneless voice.

Fletcher arched an eyebrow. "Now, if anybody here has a right to be upset, surely it's me. Remind me, how many of my men did you kill?"

"You'll have to excuse me for not letting them murder a defenseless teenage girl."

"Ahhh…" Fletcher rolled his eyes. "But Cassandra Liu is not a 'defenseless girl' is she? You must have figured that out by now." When Vaughn didn't answer, he pressed on. "She's devilishly clever, that one. Such raw intelligence and creativity! She was vital to so many engineering projects in Illyria, especially our small fusion generator. But after everything we gave her, she betrayed us. I'd almost admire her bravery in stealing a shuttle, if it weren't for the fact that she had to kill one of my guards guard to do so. Did she tell you that?" Fletcher shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Killing a man at the tender age of twelve – can you imagine?"

Vaughn kept his face blank. "Do you really want to get into a discussion of who's guilty here on Elysium?"

"I'm sure you were given a very touching story about a heartless colonel and the hundreds he condemned to starvation," Fletcher said. His gaze transformed into an intense stare. "Do you think that was an easy decision? Do you think there were any good choices in such an impossible situation? There wasn't enough to keep everybody fed and housed. And my duty as an officer of the Systems Alliance is to serve the people of Earth. Surely you remember that? The Council may have given you a major's commission and dressed you up in Spectre's armor, but surely you remember your duty."

"I remember being taught to serve with honor," Vaughn retorted. "And if you're really so dedicated to humanity, how does that explain the krogan battlemaster?"

Fletcher briefly closed his eyes at the mention of Grall. "Grall... he served the resistance well during the Reaper occupation," Fletcher said softly. "And there are some men you simply can't afford to have as an enemy."

"He has a goddamn battleaxe," Vaughn persisted. "A man like that wants nothing more than to kill."

"He keeps my people safe," Fletcher corrected in a firmer tone. "You want to speak of bloodthirst? What about your matriarch? She wants to make sure we starve right along with her. Not only does she ambush our foraging parties, but look at what she's done to the surrounding airspace."

"Those look like defenses to me. Considering your aerial firepower, can you blame her for wanting to protect herself?"

Fletcher scoffed. "The AA guns? Fine. But the orbital drones? If she thinks I'd try a bombardment when our two camps are so close together, then she's more insane than I thought. No… spite is her motivation. Our fusion generator requires helium-3, and so we must make regular trips to the fourth planet in this system. To get around her little minefield, I'm forced to take a significant detour, expending fuel and burning up element zero I can't replace. My people need that generator, Major Vaughn. It keeps them warm in winter, and it keeps the food processors running. It keeps civilians alive." The colonel shook his head and threw up his hands in exasperation. "It's utter foolishness on her part – the less food my processors can produce, the more I need to send people into her forest."

"Why do you even need to send the foraging parties west, toward Isara?" asked Vaughn. "Can't you two find some way to leave each other alone?"

"I'd gladly send my men elsewhere, but…" Fletcher gestured at the trees surrounding them. "This is the Moirai Basin. The lakes attract more of the wildlife, and as a result, more of the food supply. It's why Isara settled there, and it's why I must send my people there. I have thousands of people to feed."

"And then the inevitable happens," Vaughn said dryly.

"I can understand their anger, Major Vaughn. But I will not abide the death of my people. I will not stand for her butchery!" As he spoke, Fletcher's words rose in a crescendo of anger, peaking with a trembling fury that showed in his widened eyes.

Vaughn met his gaze. "Butchery?"

"Oh?" Fletcher's voice took on a mocking edge. "So you don't know what she does to any of my people she takes prisoner?"

"Neither of you keep prisoners, I know that much."

"But I do not hang their corpses from trees for their loves ones to find!" Fletcher spluttered. "The wounds… they aren't always so pretty."

Vaughn felt his stomach twist with revulsion. He wasn't sure whether to believe it. "And yet, those soldiers in the clearing were so worried about being captured alive. Not to mention the soldier we freed from Isara's camp..." Vaughn frowned. "I don't-" he began.

"Do you know why I was still on Elysium when the Reapers arrived?" Fletcher interrupted in a tone that was surprisingly soft given his previous rage. "My wife, Diana, lived here. Admiral Hackett knew this, and he allowed me to be part of the evacuation flotilla. We all knew there wasn't the time to get everybody out safely – we were just meant to save as many as we could. But I was lucky. I found my wife… and do you know what she said? That Elysium was her home and that she was going to fight for it." The colonel gave a harsh chuckle. "Sometimes I think she should have been the soldier, and not me. Diana was never one to shy away from danger."

"So she convinced you to stay."

"I regret needing to disobey Admiral Hackett's orders, but in the end, there was nothing that could be done to stop me. I gave my crew the option to retreat through the relay on the other ships, and a few did. But you'd be surprised how many stayed behind with me. A stalwart ship and a loyal crew, Major Vaughn – there's nothing like it…"

"So what happened to your wife?" Vaughn shifted uncomfortably.

"We survived the Reapers, she and I. And she was so angry when I drove Isara and her people out of Illyria. But even she understood after a time, I think, when the rations ran low. I had taught her how to use a rifle and so she insisted on being in one of the first hunting parties to help feed us." Tears began to gather at the corners of Fletcher's eyes as he turned to stare at the forest. "We found Diana a week later, in one of the trees east of here. She did not die well, Major Vaughn. Not well at all."

Vaughn watched as the first tears dripped down Fletcher's face. "I'm sorry for what you and everybody else here have had to endure. But it's over now. The starvation, the killing… all of it ends."

"Just like that?" Fletcher gave Vaughn a tired look. "And who are you to promise this?"

"I am an officer of the Council Naval Forces with Spectre authority. Before long, I will have Council ships here to fully repair your relay and bring in supplies for everyone."

"Yes, you told me this last night." Fletcher waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Relay core stability and self-repair and all that. But why haven't you done so already? Why are you alone down here with only five soldiers to support you?"

Vaughn was silent, his mouth forming a grim line.

Fletcher's own lips twitched into a grin. "I know the skies above Elysium all too well, and their dangers. Let me guess: you dropped out of FTL, and before you knew it, Cass' little pets were on you. And yet, you're still alive, so whoever was commanding your ship must have been very good. But those little mechanical bastards pack a punch." Fletcher's grin faded as Vaughn refused to answer. He started to speak more coldly. "Keep in mind that I could easily go up and check for myself. In fact, being the only man in possession of a space-faring craft puts me in a unique position to help you. Do you need my help, Major Vaughn?" His words dripped with sarcasm.

Vaughn scowled. He needed Fletcher's cooperation, and there was no time to try and get the Antietam's parts through indirect means. "The drive core's power couplings were irreparably damaged. They need to be replaced or my ship crashes," Vaughn admitted through gritted teeth. But then, straightening his back, Vaughn decided to try a different tactic. "Yes, colonel, you are in a unique position. You of all people here know what it's like to have a ship and a crew – to have men and women who depend on you. And if you still see yourself as an officer of the Systems Alliance, you'll help me save them."

"I could give you my ship's power couplings," Fletcher conceded. "But I would need something in return."

Vaughn struggled to think of what he could offer Fletcher, but only one thing came to mind. He loathed the thought of it. "There are over 60 people on the Antietam. If this is the price I have to pay to prevent more death..."

"I'll offer you protection from the impending investigation." Vaughn swallowed hard before continuing. "I'll tell the Council and Alliance that you cooperated and that extreme circumstances forced your hand these last seven years."

However, Fletcher merely chuckled at this. "An interesting offer. But… a promise that may or may not be kept? I think there is something more tangible you can offer me. Up front."

Vaughn hid his surprise. "You know, some degree of trust is needed here if we're going to make a deal," he said.

"You seem a man of your word, Major Vaughn. But it's the Council I don't trust. After all, you're just a Spectre."

"Just a Spectre?" Vaughn asked.

"As a Spectre, you are not the voice of the Council – you are not even the right hand. You are… the knife hidden in the boot. The pistol secreted away up the sleeve. You do the ugly things that must be done to keep the peace and thus give the Council a comfortable sense of plausible deniability. You do not grant clemency… after all, there's a reason why they recruit Spectres from soldiers, and not diplomats."

Vaughn folded his arms. "So then what do I have to give you?"

"There is one thing I want above all else," Fletcher said in a taut voice. "I would gladly spend the rest of my life in a cell if it meant knowing I had justice. You will give me Matriarch Isara."

"You can't be serious!" Vaughn's eyes widened in surprise.

"You do not have to kill her yourself," Fletcher soothed. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't. Arrange for her to visit some secluded part of her territory, and give me advance notice. Nobody will know your involvement. I should ask you for the girl's life as well, but I'm willing to let Cass go."

"You think I would offer up somebody's life like that?" Vaughn asked in disgust. "She may not be completely innocent here, but there's no need for this! Dammit, nobody else has to die!"

"You're a Spectre, Major Vaughn," Fletcher explained. "You are expected to do the despicable things that keep everybody else safe. One quiet death – that's all."

Vaughn just shook his head. He found himself rubbing the back of his neck, and for a moment, he was tempted. "Just two taps on the back of my neck, and Fletcher goes down." His mind raced through possible strategies and contingencies, daring to dream that such a wild hostage-taking attempt would succeed. But it would be unlikely, and it would require the involvement of his team. He couldn't risk their lives on such an insane gamble.

After several moments of studying Vaughn intently, Fletcher broke the silence. "You don't have to decide now. I'll send you a message this time tomorrow, and we can talk some more then. Perhaps try and get a good night's sleep to clear your mind?" Fletcher's expression showed the ghost of a smirk.

Vaughn nodded once in a barely perceptible movement of his head. He watched Fletcher leave, and once alone on the rooftop, he cursed. Vaughn was furious, mostly at Fletcher, but also at himself. Because though he hated to admit it, he was tempted.

"It's despicable," Ezelle exclaimed. "It's not even worth discussing!"

"Don't be naïve; of course it's worth discussing," Alexei grumbled. "Do you know how many lives are aboard the Antietam?"

"There are better options. There have to be!" the asari commando persisted.

"Better options?" Kiros asked sardonically. "There are two other options, but neither is better. Either we storm Illyria and take Fletcher's frigate by force, or we find another bargaining chip. The former is suicide, and the latter is nonexistent."

"Hypothetically, if we were to go through with it, it'd be tricky," Nyla warned. "The exiles look up to Lady Isara – they revere her. From what we've seen, she doesn't stray far from the center of the camp. She always has people close by."

Ezelle nodded fervently. "Of course they look to her for leadership. Matriarchs are the wisest, the best of my people."

"Sounds like Fletcher would have some stories to contradict that," countered Alexei.

"You trust what he says? After what he's done? Now who's being naïve?" Ezelle scoffed.

"Everybody just calm down," Vaughn intervened. "We're exploring all options here, and it won't help if this turns into one big, heated argument." He paused to take a deep breath. "Nobody likes the idea of setting up Lady Isara for an ambush. It's clearly a last resort, so let's talk about our other options."

After the meeting with Fletcher, Vaughn and his team had met up and trekked another half-kilometer before stopping. They were still some distance from Matriarch Isara's camp, but this was a discussion Vaughn couldn't have anywhere near her.

"Well, considering how little we have, there's no other bargaining chip," Kiros stated in a bored tone that revealed what he thought of the discussion. Nobody contradicted him. "As for an assault, we know the population of Illyria is over four thousand. Given the dire situation on Elysium these last seven years, I'd expect most of that four thousand would fight to defend their home. Like I said, it's suicide."

"To be fair, we did have worse odds against the Reapers," Nyla said with a hint of levity.

"I don't know about you, but I still lost plenty of friends to those terrible odds," Alexei muttered.

"We do have several tactical advantages," Ezelle offered. "We're much better armed than the average soldier of Fletcher's. Most of them probably don't have kinetic barriers. Plus, our shuttle makes us extremely mobile. We get in and out before they can put up a solid defense."

"Do we even know where Fletcher's frigate is being kept?" asked Alexei.

"We only took a brief scan of Illyria with the shuttle, but we were still far away." Vaughn activated a small holographic 3D map from his omni-tool. "The resolution isn't great, but that little block in the city's center looks like it could be a Yorktown-class frigate."

Alexei grunted. "Looks like another collapsed building to me."

"The shuttle would take far too much weapons fire getting us out of there," Kiros said, shaking his head.

"Maybe Lady Isara would help us in the assault?" Ezelle suggested.

"Doubt it," Nyla countered. "She has no real reason to care about saving the Antietam. So to her, it wouldn't be worth it to risk the lives of her people."

"So where are you on this?" Kiros asked the turian woman. "I know Ezelle is against the ambush, and Alexei is probably for it. Surely you're sensible enough to see it's our best option."

"For now it might seem like our best option," Nyla admitted with a sigh. "But that doesn't make it a good option. We have no reason to trust Fletcher, and I don't know if we should. And if we go through with it, we risk losing the one person that might be our ally in all this. I'm a 'no' on this one."

"Ranid?" Vaughn asked, turning to the quarian. "You've been silent during all this. Do you have any thoughts?"

Ranid looked up in sudden surprise at being pulled into the spotlight. "I… don't know."

"That's real helpful," Kiros said sarcastically.

"It is… a difficult decision." Ranid fumbled over the words. "A-Are we voting on this?"

"No," Vaughn answered. "I value all of your input, but this is my decision. My responsibility. Let's head back now. We have time to think on it, at least."

Vaughn wasn't surprised that sleep eluded him. It didn't help that the moss-covered mats had a pungent odor and provided almost no cushioning. His mind was racing, and he couldn't stop obsessing over the decision that must be made. As he lay wide awake, he remembered that Kiros and Nyla were taking first watch with the rest of Isara's scouts in the forest, and he considered relieving one of them. "Might as well make myself useful," he thought.

A soft chime from Vaughn's omni-tool stirred him from his contemplation. To his surprise and relief, the message came from the Antietam.

"I considered not calling at this hour, but I assume you're not sleeping anyway. After all, you must be hard at work trying to save my ship, right?" Even Captain Harper's bitter tone was a welcome sound to Vaughn's ears.

"Glad to hear from you, captain." Vaughn stood and made his way to his shuttlecraft, figuring it to be the best place to gain some privacy. He found the sandy-haired shuttle pilot inside, snoring softly from her seat in the cockpit. "Why didn't I think of that?" Vaughn extended the partition to let the woman sleep in peace.

"Everybody's working longer shifts to bring systems back online," said Harper. "Keeping them busy helps with morale. This comm node is still a bit shaky, so I can't guarantee it'll stay up all night. Any progress on your end?"

Vaughn told Harper everything that had happened on Elysium so far, his tale culminating in Fletcher's offer. He waited for a response, but Harper was quiet for a long while.

"Did you ask Isara if Fletcher's claims are true?" Harper asked.

"Isara claims not to torture people, but she said that hanging corpses was her way of returning the dead. She implied that if it also acts as a psychological deterrent, then she'll take any advantage she can get. I don't know what to think of that," Vaughn said.

Harper sighed. "So what are you going to do?"

"Still working that one out," Vaughn confessed. "Best I can think of is letting Isara in on the ambush, and trying to use the hand-off as some kind of 'Trojan Horse'-type situation."

"Fletcher sounds like he's too careful for that," Harper said.

"You have any better ideas?"

Harper paused. "Your meeting with Colonel Fletcher – how many men did he bring in total?"

"Somewhere between twenty and thirty, I think."

"The ones he could trust the most, no doubt." There was the sound of Harper pouring a drink and taking a sip. "But what about the rest of them?"

Vaughn shrugged – a reflexive gesture even though he knew Harper couldn't see him. "Can't say that I've met them."

"Well this is just a guess," Harper began. "But I'm willing to bet that not everybody has such a personal need for vengeance. The ones who have lost somebody to Matriarch Isara, sure, but the rest? They've had to endure seven years of hell, and the colonel is prolonging that. Hell, his defiance against a Council Spectre could be actively hurting them in the long run."

Vaughn blinked in surprise. "That's… actually very insightful. It wouldn't be easy to bypass Fletcher and appeal to the people of Illyria, but it's certainly something to think about."

"You always need to read the pulse of the people under your command," Harper instructed. "Works for me, anyway. I haven't had a single mutiny yet."

Vaughn cracked a smile. "You know captain, that almost sounded like a joke."

Suddenly, there was a boom, followed by the staccato of distant gunfire. Shocked cries sounded from the surrounding huts and campfires. Vaughn jumped to his feet.

"What the hell was that?" Harper demanded, hearing the chaos.

"He told me to get a 'good night's sleep'. Bastard couldn't help himself!" Vaughn hissed as he remembered Fletcher's final, goading words.

"What?"

"There's trouble. I'll contact you when I can." Hastily closing the channel, Vaughn raced to the shuttle's armory where his weapons were stored. He pulled out his assault rifle, and in a fluid, practiced motion loaded the ammo block and thermal clip. It was odd, but Vaughn almost felt like laughing – for all his agonizing over what to do, it seemed the decision was made for him. They were under attack, for Fletcher was making his move.