Chapter 11

The Omega docks were exactly as she remembered them: filthy and cavernous, a rag-tag jumble of grizzled ships parked under a dark hangar roof. Sam gulped back a worried hum. There were arrivals; departures; cargoes washing in and out along the long line of ships like a tide; stir-crazy crews shaking off the silence of deep space; land-locked spacers itching to skip port; pimps, food vendors, drug pushers, johns and jills, all sloshing around the crowded space. In other words, chaos. Tali seemed to draw strength from it but Sam was allergic. She breathed deeply through her nasal filter and readjusted the blue beret on her head nervously.

The station felt like a pitcher plant – one giant trap for rich and poor alike. Unlike Ilium, where surveillance cameras hung from every wall and tree, Omega's wealthy had to wrap their homes in razorwire. Kidnap, extortion and murder were almost guaranteed for someone successful without an entourage, and seconds after popping the shuttle door open, she felt hopelessly exposed without one.

But she was bloody well going to look the part in her borrowed Alliance BDUs, even if she could barely remember how to fire the pistol strapped to her thigh. She lifted her jaw, sucked her belly in and her chest out. Her body remembered.

Straighten your spine, Traynor. Just get to the Mariana, upload the files and wait for all this to be over.

A metal briefcase was padlocked to her left wrist. She flexed her fingers uneasily around the handle as the scanner hovered, stuck, then nudged her forward. Relief breezed through her; no alarms. The fake ID had cleared.

Tali passed through the scanner and stood behind her, as a harried-looking asari climbed the gangway.

The usual Omega welcome involves a pair of batarians and the butt of a rifle. Curious.

The asari had heavy-lidded, almond eyes. She could have graduated straight into the job from Afterlife; the only adaptation she had made was to her hemline. She clasped her hands over her heart and bowed demurely, extended both palms toward Tali.

"Welcome to Omega, Councillor." Her smile didn't quite touch her eyes. "Ms Rao. I must apologise for the poor reception – we had no prior notice of your arrival. We've had no time to organise."

"Not a problem. I am here on my own account. No need to hang out the banners." Tali's brass neck-rings gleamed, but the rest of her exosuit was careworn. Ablative plates were concealed beneath folds of threadbare cream fabric that dirtied up the second they hit Omega air. The disheveled look did nothing to hide her authority. The inquisitive engineer she regressed to in private vanished as soon as she stepped off the ship; the person stood next to her was someone older; taller; commanding.

"Will you be wanting to call on Ambassador Chiotis at the Council embassy? Would you like me to arrange transport?"

"Later. I have – personal matters to attend to."

"And your companion? If you are not here on Council business, then I am afraid I will have to ask you to submit to a search." The asari smiled gamely. "I'm sorry. It's just a formality."

Sam's cover was good, but not that good. It wouldn't check out. She blanched.

"I – um – yes, of course, but –"

Tali stepped forward.

"Miss Rao is a diplomatic envoy. The case is protected under article twenty of the Sereuun Convention. As I specified in our flight plan, she is transferring to the Mariana, also flying Council colours. I have an appointment with Aria T'Loak. Which," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I am late for. So if you will excuse us – I know my way around."

Tali's words hung in the air; the asari lulled for a moment, then looked Sam up and down. She tried to look suitably stony.

We're sprung. She's rumbled me. She forced herself to look into the asari's eyes, not back to the Kodiak.

The smile she turned on Sam was ingratiating and false.

"Ms Rao is free to join the Mariana, though I remind you that the ship must remain berthed until departure authorisation is granted. Councillor, since you have no bags, this will take no time at all. It's protocol."

The asari produced a wand and ran it over Tali while she droned on to Sam with bogus orders. It took longer than she had promised, but they were soon let go. They ambled together up the dockside, blending in with the mass of moving people. The sharp, heavy smell of smoke settled over the docks, masking the familiar tang of engine grease and sweat and – less welcome – garbage.

"Calm down, Envoy," Tali murmured. We're fine. Try to look a little less like a pyjack in a varren den."

"Councillor," she leaned in close, "can't you cry off with a suit puncture or something? I have a bad feeling about this. Very bad."

"I'll be fine. You know why? Aria has a secret." Tali took her arm, her touch reassuring and solid. "She only appears crazy. She's actually isn't."

"No, simply sadistic and vicious. Anyway, compared to us, I absolutely agree. This is insane. I can't believe you talked me into this."

"You'll be back behind a console before you know it."

A creeping feeling ran up her back; Sam snapped around. She was jumpy, but there was nothing there, except the same crowded drift of disinterested faces. A flash of eyes; no. Couldn't be. Besides, it made sense for them be watching Tali. It stood to reason, but the nape of her neck still tingled.

"Aria won't bat an eyelid about ripping your legs off, you know."

Tali sighed. "It isn't worth the diplomatic headache. You worry too much. Just focus on the next objective. Everything else takes care of itself."

Or not, Sam thought. She flicked a wan smile at Tali, who patted her arm as though she were a frightened child.

She was right; and she knew Tali was more afraid than she was letting on. This was risky. The Turing was tucked away somewhere it would take days - if not weeks - for Aria to find, but it was still in-system. All Liara's data was stowed in a rickety research vessel possessing stealth but no offensive weapons. Aria was unpredictable and savage; anything could happen during Tali's rendezvous, and probably would. She should be Tali's pillar of support, not the other way around.

She swallowed, tried to ignore the smell souring the back of her throat, visualised the shot she'd pour herself aboard Ash's ship. Something medicinal, naturally. She clung to thoughts of leaving port, and whether Liara would remember her, and if her cold eyes would run warm the way they used to when she entered the room.

They were carried along by the crowd until Mariana rose on their left. Ash's taciturn XO stood stiffly by the airlock, mandibles flexing. The hot patch intensified between her shoulders and bled down until it was a dark patch of dread in her stomach.

She resisted it as long as she could. Then she glanced behind.

A batarian sliced through the crowd, ignored by everyone around them, heading directly for her with a determined set to his jaw. His eyes locked on Sam's; he beckoned, sharp, before she whipped her head away.

"Someone. Someone's following us. We need to move faster. Oh god -" her whisper clotted in her mouth; she had to move, she had to dash for the ship. Only Tali's wiry arm stopped her.

Tali looked back , then reduced their pace to a shuffle.

"He recognises us. Wait."

"No. I can't, Tali-"

Tali didn't reply; instead, she twisted around, drew up to her full height, and allowed her omni to flash a warning. The batarian stopped a few metres ahead, lifted empty hands away from his torso, and looked at Tali intensely. He was pallid, with teeth like a dirty comb. His armour, though scuffed and old, was buffed to a dull shine.

"You're following us. Explain yourself."

His voice rasped. "Your friend. The Spectre. She has been lured into an ambush. You must intervene."

"You have exactly three seconds to start making sense before I set my attack drone on you." Tali folded her arms across her chest.

"Aria believes she has been deceived. She does not like to look stupid."

Sam could almost taste how much he wanted them to believe, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. It frustrated him, but he was making an effort not to look threatening. That was odd, Sam decided; he was diffident but intense.

Tali began to turn away. "You're very good. If I didn't know better, I'd be convinced. If you leave now, I won't report you."

"No. If you don't come with me, they'll die." The batarian moved closer, warily, careful to stop just short of touching. Sam took an involuntary step back. Tali stood firm, faceplate held level and her shoulders tensed; he began to peck at his haptic interface. Tinny voices squeaked around his hand, barely loud enough for them to hear, turning Sam's insides to water.

'Why are you here, Williams? The batarian. To..zzz...save the life of a mother. I won't take lives needlessly…I won't put innocents in -way...'

That voice. The reply belonged to Ash.

"I helped her before," he offered. "I'm trying to help her again, Councillor. All of them are in danger. It may be too late, but I am willing to make the attempt."

Tali's helmet shook from side to side. "All of them? Who do you mean?"

"Williams. The asari, T'Soni. And the human who told me I would find you here. Goto. She knew you would come. She said you could negotiate. That without you, Aria would kill them both."

"Kasumi? You know her?"

"We have both belonged to her inner circle at different times. She messaged you, just as she messaged me."

Tali stopped, still, then peered back at her. Her resolution was clear in her posture, the tension she carried in her spine. She was going. Sam took another step back, grateful only that Tali had made her choice and left her out of it. She looked like a coward. Felt like one. But better that than dead.

Heroics aren't my forte.

"Shall I get a squad to come out from the ship?" she asked, faint.

The batarian's look made her shudder. "Aria will interpret any Council muscle as hostile intention. Send medics, if you send anybody at all. Tell the turian up there we are going to Diyu. He has been lounging on the docks for long enough."

A sphere, glowing white like ball lightning, shimmered into being above one of Tali's shoulders. Sam could see her eyes under her visor. The were wary, but decisive. "We don't want to make Aria any more crazy. She'll flatten Ash's squad just because she can. Don't break the Mariana while I'm gone." She turned to the batarian, who began to back out through the crowd. "Wish me luck."

The batarian grunted as they left, popping the thermal clip from his pistol. "This is providence. Not luck."

Sam was left with one thought spinning through her mind.

I thought you said she wasn't crazy.


Sedna and Ison walked ahead, speaking in hushed tones, apart. Night had fallen around an hour ago, and the temperature with it. There was a bite now in the cooling desert air, and Ison had wrapped his arms around himself, shivering like a dog. James yearned to take his helmet off and feel the wind on his face. He resisted.

Part of it was the instinctive rule against exposing broken skin to Tuchanka's microbes. But there was fear, too - of what he would see when he took off the armour, how much of his body had been burned. Nothing a trip to Lawson's bodyshop couldn't fix; but he couldn't stay sealed inside the damn suit until he got there. He was burning up. While it had compensated through much of the day, its supply of stims and pain and fever meds were depleted. The doses shot through his groin and neck had dwindled to nothing.

After coming down off Timna hill they found a road of thick, cracked asphalt, running south-east. They had left the overgrown favela behind with the warehouses; the buildings were bigger, more affluent, all graceful curls of concrete and planes of bullet-pocked glass. That they weren't shot out said something. They looked crazy, out of place. His fever-steeped mind knew why, but didn't supply the answer.

He vaguely absorbed the lizard people walking back toward him, start to argue, though their voices seemed to drift up from the bottom of an ocean. Introducing Jack Sprat and his beautiful wife.

"Admiral needs rest. Must rest. Feet unsteady -" Ison stooped to peer into his visor - "eyes glassy. Internal temperature too high."

"He's still walking. If he's walking, we go on."

"If he weakens to the point he cannot walk, mission is over. Short rest now - good idea. Recovery time - conserves energy. Human endurance not like krogan."

"IDEC headquarters are no more than an hour east. How much do you know about humans, anyway?" But uncertainty was starting to creep into Sedna's deep voice. She sounded tired, frayed.

"Expert knowledge not required. Look at him. Won't last another hour. Interplanetary Disaster building is iconic - big target. Might not even be there anymore. Rest needed now."

James stood mute while they continued to bicker, looking down at his boots. Sand had begun to blow over and around them, writhing up the road and away in plaits. The wind was picking up. Bottoms up, pendejos, he thought; and then he toppled.

Darkness swooped up to meet him.

He woke, dizzy and sick, gulped what felt like razors inside his parched mouth. His eyes were gummy when he blinked. The ceiling was gunmetal grey. He wasn't looking through the narrow band of his visor; his helmet was missing.

Shit.

He put a hand to his face, only to have it grasped and pulled away by bony fingers.

"Good. Welcome back, Admiral." He was lying back against a mound of sandbags, with Ison kneeling by his side, flask in one hand. The water he tipped into his mouth was cold, clean, perfect-tasting. "Feeling better?"

He felt surprisingly clear-headed; refreshed. Like the sickness had been scorched out of him.

"Y-" he coughed. "Yeah. What happened?"

"Fainted. Sedna carried you into Gataly's consulate. Stay down. Don't move yet."

"Where is she?"

"Too impatient for her own good. Rash. Searching the building. Staff evacuated two days ago."

The room was long, low, and softly lit by emergency lights. There were no windows; had to be a storeroom, or a basement. Collapsible chairs, desks, terminals and other clutter were piled on one side of the room. He squinted to bring them into focus.

"Fever broke when you were out. Not for long. Administered analgesics, antibacs, antipyretics, electrolytes, glucose. Ampoules were compatible, so reloaded your suit supply." His head quirked. "Also gave you asari sedative by mistake. Luckily, inert in humans."

He grunted, tried to sit up. "Appreciate it."

"Simple matter. Pesh needed care for years. Valued chance to get warm." Ison had wrapped a thick blanket around his shoulders. "Like sitting next to a campfire."

He remembered his face. Only now did he realise it had hurt like a bitch. One side felt heavy, numb, like it was covered in glue. He touched it hesitantly; his face was smeared with medigel, but the contours of his skin beneath were unrecognisable. Hot, bulbous and springy, like he imagined an egg sac to be. He tried not to think of Dron's grok lice growing under his skin, into his cheeks.

"Don't, Admiral. You have bad burns. Blisters. Infection. Unwise to touch."

He bit back the urge to ask for a mirror, something reflective. Wrex wouldn't care less what he looked like. Neither did he; not really. But something inside him twisted at the thought he was disfigured, needed to know the extent of the damage.

"Sedna must be climbing the walls. We'd better get back on the road." He crunched forward. Ison had stripped him to the waist; his breastplate and armguards were piled in the corner. Here was a part of himself he could examine. His chest was splotched with furious, weeping burns. His upper right arm was bandaged.

Ison pressed him back with cold hands.

"The shurga is here, Admiral. Directly above us. Not going anywhere for a while."

Even krogan respected the shurga, a sandstorm so powerful it could flay their unarmoured hides to the bone. It neatly explained why Sedna agreed to stay. She probably would have deserted them if she could leave. But Ison had thrown in his lot with James; the salarian would have done the same with anyone he thought could get him off world, he suspected, but for now he was glad to have him around. This place felt safe; a respite; a weightless bubble in time.

"Well, she's gonna be mad. Real mad. She okay when she left here?"

"Calm. Maybe too calm." Ison wrapped the blanket around him. "Ironic. Trapped with two deranged krogan in single day. Hope garrison outburst not repeated. But - resigned to possibility."

"Hate to break it to you, Ison, but the whole planet's gone loco. Sedna's as sane as you're gonna get. If she wanted to beat your brains out, she would have done it by now."

"Hardly reassuring. She is dangerously headstrong."

"Nah. She's young. Under a lot of pressure. Her, uh, mate is in a lot of danger. She's not a bad kid, deep down. Not really. Just stubborn as hell."

"Your burns required urgent attention. She was aware of them all day. Reckless with your life. I would have stopped us."

James nodded his thanks. "I agree she has a lot to learn. But we had a lot of ground to cover today. Still do." His gaze ranged over dead terminals, datapads, stacked tables. "The kit and tech in here looks nearly new."

"Gataly is a Terminus planet. Remote. Staff evacuated two days ago. Member of League, but chooses to maintain multilateral relations. Small krogan community in capital city. Wealth mainly from iridium - and krogan are good miners."

"Thought you never left the DMZ. How come you got the lowdown on the place?"

"Former krogan colony before rebellions. Wiped out by the genophage."

"Oh." James didn't want to let the silence hang. "All our - I mean, the Council's diplomatic missions were closed after" - his mouth stuck on Baghatur- "uh, the krogan embassy was shut down. The DMZ's supposed to be sealed."

Ison shrugged. "Several embassies never left. No seal stays watertight."

Sedna's lumbering steps echoed outside the room before he entered. Her face brightened when she saw him sitting up on the floor. He'd never seen her look that way before; wasn't sure if he should be touched or terrified.

"Hey. So you do care, Princess."

She blundered towards him so quickly her nub of a tail bobbed from side to side. A prickly-looking krogan compression shirt, a collection of foil packets and a shotgun bandolier were clutched in her claws.

"You're awake! Good. Excellent. I knew Ison would make a better nursemaid than me."

"Yeah. Feeling human again. Ready to move out."

"Even better. I was starting to think I might have to choose between you or the hammer. It was difficult."

Guess I'm lucky the sandstorm means you didn't need to. The peen of the hammer was a soft blue behind her shoulder.

"Well, she is beautiful. You take her up there for a little talk? Woman to woman?"

"Not exactly." She grabbed his hand and pulled him upright. He could have been as light as a child. Her excitement made him feel a little punch drunk.

"He held his arms out. "Like what you see?"

"The hammer is better looking." She put her salvage down and pressed a claw gently into his chest, avoiding the burns. He felt nothing except a vague tickle. James had no idea what Ison had given him.

"Why - I do believe the lady likes it."

Sedna stared at his skin. "You humans are softer than you look. Your homeworld must have been like a summer camp."

Not anymore. Earth, like Palaven, was a wild place, a sparsely populated galactic graveyard with an atmosphere poisoned by war.

He reached for the new undershirt and began to pull it over his head. He could feel Ison moving to tug it over his back gently. "Never been called soft before. Not even by a krogan. Well, except for Grunt. He was a tough sonofabitch."

"And I am not?"

His joints were stiff as he went to retrieve his armour. "Quit fishing, peligroso."

Hearing nothing, he turned. Sedna had broken into a blood-curdling smirk. She looked like she would happily smash something. Or maybe she just did.

"Who'd you kill to put you in such a good mood, anyway?"

"Nobody. I found something. Now you're walking I want you to see it. Are you good with tech?"

"You're really looking at the wrong guy. But we'll figure something out. What have you got?"

She smacked him on the good arm. "A working QEC. A line to Wrex."


She was so tired. Her bones were lead; her limbs felt like they belonged to someone else. All she wanted was for this to be over. She had been betrayed. She wanted to be home; wanted to be dead; wanted not to be here. She was a scrap fought over by scavengers. She was property, to be bargained over or stolen. But that was not who she was. This was not her world.

This was a nightmare. It could not be real.

Is that who I've become?

She was guided into a hiding place, pushed into a sit. Fingers prodded at her ribs, moved her jaw from side to side. She barely felt them. A black hood swam into focus, followed by liquid dark eyes.

"Come on, Liara. You need to get with it."

She closed her eyes, angry at the hot ache that swelled behind them. This was hell, but she would not cry. She would not give them the satisfaction. She stared ahead blankly, through the human, who turned her attention elsewhere, peeking over and around their cover. The whipcrack of biotics being unleashed somewhere behind made no impression. She cowered, hopeless, like an animal waiting for slaughter.

I told you. You don't get to choose.

She stirred, tucked her legs underneath her, tugged at Kasumi's sleeve with numb fingers. Her voice was cracked, desperate.

"Is Naya safe?"

Kasumi's face broke into confusion. "Who? Liara - what are you talking about?"

My daughter, she wanted to say, but she couldn't. A blue explosion lit the air, followed by a deep boom. Kasumi flinched. No recognition. Liara turned her face to the floor, felt the human move away. She was staring pensively into the sky. Kasumi pulled out a pistol, looked back at her.

"Don't move. Don't do anything stupid. Be right back." She cloaked, wisps of orange streaking across her empty silhouette, and disappeared. Three shots rang out, far away.

She felt like laughing. She had no option but to stay put. She was incapable of moving fast enough to be anything other than a target. She was too valuable to kill, but mistakes were possible. She was pinned down by despair.

Home was dead; she could never go back. All that lay ahead was incarceration. Isolation. Torture. No matter that she had tried to do good where she could. It would not make a difference whose prize she became. The League or the Council would strip what they needed and imprison the husk they finished with. Naya was nowhere. No one was coming to save her. Ashley and Aria were here to take her. And the fault for that was hers.

She leered bitterly. Now, now. No need to fight over me.

An angry roar, then pounding footsteps; closer now. Ashley. Ashley was a good Spectre. She had done well to track her to this place. No doubt chosen because of her past association. Tali'Zorah was likely behind the selection.

Her chest tightened with irrational, resilient tendrils of hope, forcing her onto her knees despite herself. She didn't understand why. Another flash of purplish blue was followed by a scream, gunshots. She heard the whisper of a still, small voice.

Only Normandy crew could decrypt my distress signal. If Ashley is here, my compound has been found and searched -

They had found Sinchi. They would have her files.

Naya is alive. And Aria doesn't know.

She had to believe it. A current of joy ran through her body. She nearly shot upright; instead, she gripped the console with both hands and peered around it. Ashley crouched behind another console, straight ahead, jamming another clip into her Mattock. The helmet turned. Ashley brought a single finger up to where her lips would be.

Quiet.

Heart scudding, she craned her head around further. Aria was striding down the platform toward them both, electric blue flames licking across her entire body. Her eyes were empty, senseless, primal. But a shotgun was still gripped in one hand. She was in control.

Liara knew, abruptly, that Ashley was going to die. I need to live.

Liara's looked desperately across the gap. Ashley primed a grenade with one hand, leaned out and skimmed it across the floor.

It slid, bounced once - twice - then came to rest at Aria's feet.

The explosion burned her eyes white; ringing sounded in her head. She blinked furiously to clear the flash from her eyes. Ashley had bought them a moment. She rolled across the gap between them, coming up next to Liara, gripping her by both shoulders. The question sang in Liara's mind. She had to know for certain.

Ashley didn't need the meld to hear her question; she was a parent. She knew. Her eyes smiled behind her faceplate.

"Naya's fine, Blue. "That warm voice. "We found her. Gonna take you home."

Relief poured into her. She wanted to cry, wanted to sag onto Ashley, wanted simply to hold onto her. The unreality of where she was vanished, replaced with pin sharp focus. Clarity.

Ashley is the key. But Aria will kill her. And I need to live.

Ashley shook her. She'd been lost. "...Liara? Quickly! Where's Goto?"

Her mind ground into gear. She put her hands on Ashley's forearms, looked into her eyes. "She put me here, then cloaked." She twisted her head around, in the direction Aria had come from.

"Fuck. Then she could be anywhere." Ashley checked on Aria's position, then came back to face her. "Look. Don't let Aria get a hold of you, okay? Stay away from her. Hide. I'll be back for you. Go." She pushed her back gently; Liara didn't move. Leaving felt wrong. Ashley patted her lightly. "I'll figure something out. Always do."

Her body protested, but she knew Ashley made sense. She had to get away. But Ashley's chances were hopeless. Without Ashley, so were hers. She bent low at the waist and hobbled up the platform, putting distance between herself and the fight. Pain seared into her lungs, her cut feet. Heat haze shimmers danced out of her eyeline a couple of times. Kasumi was tracking her. She had to be tracking Ashley, too.

Aria restored her barriers; now she was pacing the floor with her back to Liara, side to side, waiting for Ashley to reveal her position. Blue vats surrounded the control platform and churned a short drop beneath, throwing light up through the floor. Dark fire danced all over her. She was vengeance. She whipped one arm back, yanking Ashley out of cover by her feet. She screamed in pain as Aria's biotics burned through her armour, tumbled at Aria's feet. Then rolled.

From the floor, Ashley emptied her pistol into Aria's face. She reeled back. The shots went wide, spitting off Aria's barrier like fat in a pan.

Ashley lurched to her feet, staggered, slugged Aria in the gut. Aria doubled over, but did not go down. She countered with a biotically-powered kick to the side of Ashley's head. She sprawled sideways, dark energy breaking across her armour. Lurched backward.

Ashley's next volley from the Mattock brought Aria's barrier down. The flames around her died into glowing blue embers.

Liara allowed herself to feel a sliver of hope. Perhaps this is not as hopeless as I thought.

But Aria straightened; new fire flickered at the end of her arm. She flared, once. Ashley slumped forward, then snapped back, rigid. Her body was frozen. Her rifle clattered on the ground. A whirlwind twisted around Aria, igniting her barriers as Ashley's life drained. She seemed to grow - taller, larger - as Ashley collapsed.

Goddess. No. Please, no. Move, Ashley. Please move. She was helpless, hidden like a coward. Ashley was risking her life. Not to take her, but to save her - and she could do nothing. An angry sob wheezed through her chest.

No. Not like this. She got to her feet. Walked forward, slowly, toward Aria. Her heart beat like a drum. Every step was potentially fatal. But without Ashley, she was as good as dead anyway.

Naya. Naya is alive.

Aria did not notice her approaching from behind. She towered over Ashley's crumpled body, fists clenched. Beneath them, molten eezo began to boil and froth in the vats, spilling over the sides, splashing upward. Aria had stepped over Ashley's body, was walking away. Suddenly, Liara realised what she was planning.

Panic ripped like iron up her legs. She started to run.

The first vat burst to her right, geysering liquid eezo through the floor and metres into the air. Another belched to her left. Blue fire rained down in a fine spray, settling onto her skin like oil, burning. A direct hit would incinerate; they wouldn't even find her bones. She ran blindly, legs pumping, heart gasping, body reverberating with building, unspent force. She reached Ashley and threw her arms up and out.

The vats underneath them blew.

In next split second, she rediscovered hope.

The eezo rose overhead, underfoot, all around. Her biotic bubble was small but strong. Her arms shook. The inside was bleached almost white. As she looked down at Ashley, half-blinded by the glare, the human moved.

Get up. Get up, Ashley. She rolled onto her side. Eezo continued to roar like a volcano, with no sign of subsiding. Her hands burned. She shouldn't be able to do this. She didn't know how she was doing this. Questions would come later.

Where are we? It's beautiful. Ash's eyes stared out at the lava, unblinking.

Not dead. Seconds from it. Have you ever wondered how melting would feel?

Ash tried to prop herself on one elbow.

Pick up your gun. Be ready. When this subsides, Aria will be vulnerable.

Yes, ma'am. Ashley swung into a squat, weak. She was woozy. Liara wondered if she should hide, not fight. She started to drag in her breath in scorching gulps.

No, Blue. We won't get another chance like this to finish her. Ashley looked at her curiously. Holy shit. Those ain't my eezo nodules screaming.

A patch of black appeared above their heads, stretched as the bubble began to be exposed to air. The eezo ebbed slowly until the last of it washed away.

Aria smiled from the corner of the platform. When she saw the bubble emerge from the torrent, her smile dropped.

Murder glinted in her eyes.

But Liara's gaze was drawn upward. A shuttle was closing in, high behind Aria, dropping low.

A cream-suited figure hung in the mouth of its open door.


A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for all the wonderful comments and encouragement from all of you for the last chapter. It's greatly appreciated - especially as this latest one felt like it would never be done. Thanks as ever to the lovely HugoCogs and Owelpost - they are both very busy writers so I am hugely grateful for their time and support.