I don't own the Mass Effect.

Operation: Long Echoes

Pirate's Life

Joa T'Voth

Date: 07-08-2187

Location: SBS Reliant, orbiting Thulodon, Outer Novgorod System

My fucking headache would just not go away... kind of like the goddess damned bitch causing it.

Three years ago it had seemed like an obvious thing to do given the circumstances I'd been in. Join the mercenaries who'd saved me and my most of my crew's collective asses from being killed, raped, or eaten by that crazy asshole of a Krogan and avoid losing my ship to Aria, die Waffe, or Sederis. They'd seemed clever and ruthless enough to survive the war, and had seemed to be good company on top of that.

I mean, sure, they were a little soft in refusing to engage in honest piracy, but I could overlook that given their other strong points. And Cieran and Illyan's idea to create a mini-Illium on Omega had been fucking genius.

I'd even kind of enjoyed being made a pseudo-Admiral and being given a little fleet to run around with. The paperwork had been awful and I'd wanted to drown myself after having to deal with countless training cruises and refits, but still... I'd basically owned a goddess-damned fleet. I'd never even fucking imagined that I'd get anywhere like that when I'd fled Thessia.

Then there'd been the war against Cerberus.

Then there'd been all the crap with the Collectors.

Then Cieran had finally turned over command to Massa.

I was rubbing at my temples when there was a knock on my cabin door. Spending a few moments glowering at it, I stabbed at my omni-tool right before I was sure my guest would have hacked through it to enter with or without my permission.

"Joa." Cieran greeted me as he walked in, strangely not in the armor I was used to seeing. Instead he just wore a plain Blade uniform with his coat draped over his shoulders, though the exasperated look he gave my bare chest was far more familiar. "Goddess, would you at least put a bra on or something?"

"Nothing you haven't seen, groped, sucked on, and bitten before." I retaliated, making no effort to cover myself as I leaned back in my couch. "If your new bondmate doesn't like that we fucked before you two got together that's not my bloody problem."

One of the ridges of fur above his eyes rose as he closed the door behind him, "You're in a shitty mood."

I glowered at him, though that faded as he pulled a small bottle out of his armored coat. "...that what I think it is?"

"Probably. You going to cover your tits or what?"

Making a disgusted sound, I got up as he wandered over to the tiny mini-bar sequestered near my bed to get us glasses. Not wanting to bother with a shirt, I grabbed one of the many bands with my rank sewn over of the left cup. Tugging it on and getting it straight, I returned to the couch just in time to accept a glass of dark liquid.

The contrasting bitter then sugary sweet flavor of fine Illium Rum made me groan in pleasure, sinking back into my seat as Cieran dropped into the small armchair nearby.

"Business first?" He asked as he sipped from his own glass. "Figure we'll get that out of the way while we still have rum."

"...yeah, sure." I sighed, very much wishing we'd gone through the bottle before we started. "The Gallipoli isn't ready, and she's not going to be ready for at least another month. You're going to be stuck with Lawson and her ship."

Cieran exhaled but didn't look surprised. "More work than we thought?"

I rolled a bare shoulder in a shrug, "Since we have to do this secretly we can't use our only real space dock and had to land the thing on the iceball instead... and even if we could have put her in at Novgorod there's the small problem that the ship is way beyond what our engineers have ever worked with before. Lawson's people and those AI are doing all the real work while our techs are scrambling to learn what they can."

The human frowned, "I thought there was just some minor armor damage, nothing we couldn't handle."

"That's what we thought too." I grimaced and took a fortifying sip of the hilariously expensive rum. "Then we realized the fucking thing was still on its trial run when you stole it. The war room thing was a fucking mess that wasn't really functional, the port-side GARDIAN looked like a black tide had fucking washed it on shore before they installed it, and the number four engine mount needed some heavy reinforcement."

That made him grimace in turn. "Athame's ass... it was a rushed build, wasn't it?"

"Probably." I shrugged once more. "Doesn't help that we don't exactly have spec parts for the fucking thing. Lawson already went through all the crap she grabbed when Cerberus fell fixing her ship after the Collector base. With that AI's help we're splicing in Xenthan made parts wherever we can but..."

He sighed as I made a helpless gesture. "I get it, I get it. It'll be a little harder to work with just one insertion vessel, we're probably going to need a base ship to operate from. It was cramped as fuck getting everyone from Xentha to here just on the Normandy. Who can you spare?"

"I can spare me."

"Joa... you're the Exec Com of the fleet." Cie shook his head, dark fur shifting around as he did. "We're going to be on this for at least six weeks, maybe longer."

I took another pull from my drink and nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I better bring the whole battlegroup so we can do exercises."

Flat green eyes narrowed for several seconds as he chased that particular current, the wave reaching the beach when he let out a quiet grunt. "Is Ayle that bad?"

"I didn't flee from my home, claw and scrape and fuck my way through a century's worth of enemies to have my own cruiser, and then join up with you just so that I could become a glorified guard dog." I growled. "Nor did I join you out of some Batarian driven ideal to create a new Xentha or Hegemony out here."

His slim body shifted as he breathed deeply, taking a long sip of his rum. "You didn't join up to fight a war against Cerberus either."

I scoffed. "No, but I tolerated that storm because you and I had a bloody relationship that worked. You told me what you wanted done, I told you to fuck off while I went off and did it, and you never bitched about how much it costs to refit everything."

There was a quiet sigh, though he didn't look terribly surprised that I was having problems with his old friend's management style. "Novgorod still isn't paying for itself then?"

"It's not Omega." I pointed out. "Supposedly we're ahead of Ven's schedule thanks to Shaaryak doing some advertising thing that's worked out, but we're still just barely in the blue and don't have much left in the way of cash reserves after getting everything set up. If we had another six months or year we could be at something like the old levels, but we just don't have the fucking time."

One of his fingers tapped rapidly on the side of his glass as his expression went distant, his usual flat disregard for anything that didn't affect him or his small personal clique fading as he considered the problem. "I thought the fleet was in good shape, how many ships still need to be refit?"

"Close to half."

He nearly choked as he went to drink more rum. "What?"

I grimaced. "Six of my eight line cruisers are in good shape. All four of the Kima Lier's that we bought from the lady last year are standardized, and we matched the Reliant and Chitose to their gear when we rebuilt them after the battle. But the Blood Drinker is in pretty rough shape, her systems are patch-worked from here to the fucking deeps, and the Headsman needs a new overhaul since most of her equipment is Eclipse spec shit that we can't afford to maintain long term now that Sederis isn't a sponsor."

Cieran listened as he finished off his glass, then went to refill mine as I continued to lay out the situation for him; each smaller class of ship providing more problems compared to our main battle line.

Of our eight light cruisers, only the totally rebuilt Cusho and the three salvaged Cerberus ships used anything like standardized parts that we could secure from Omega and Xentha. The other four were a hopeless mixed up mess of Asari, Human, Hegemony, and Xenthan built systems. The Shokari was probably in the best shape thanks to her post-Ganar's War rebuild, but like the Headsman most of that was Asari built gear that I doubted the Eclipse would sell to us at minimal profit margins anymore.

The mixed escorts were... well, not great. We'd lost a good portion of the ships we'd been granted as salvage by Aria after the first war against Cerberus, and while we'd managed to replace them, we'd mostly replaced them with a variety of small-time but sensible pirates looking to follow my lead in regards to steady paychecks and calmer lives, or with the wave of Hegemony defectors that had come before and then along with Shaaryak.

Neither category had been the best about maintaining their ships for a variety of reasons, some understandable, some idiotic, but either way it left us with problems. Said problems were exacerbated among the light ships by the various attacks smaller pirate groups had thrown at the intruders to 'their' backwater part of the Traverse. We hadn't actually lost any ships drowning the idiots and proving to the rest that we were best left alone, but we'd still taken damage to more than a few frigates and corvettes.

Damage that I was struggling to find time to repair thanks to Massa's idiotic and over-done commitments... and of course most of the damage was to our corvettes. The little things were of questionable value in a big brawl but they were damned useful at lurking at common discharge sites. But since most of them were too badly battered to do much but try and look threatening around Novgorod I was stuck wasting bigger, more valuable ships doing that job.

"On the vid-screen, I've got sixty-four warships for us to fight with." I told him, leaving out the countless personnel issues I was also dealing with. "In reality, I'd only want to bring about thirty into a fight. If you held a gun to my head I could drag another eighteen in but the goddess alone knows how we would repair them if anything went wrong, half of them have weapons that are either in poor repair or are missing entirely, and I'm not sure the rest of the ships could even reach the battlespace."

He pursed his lips as he put back more rum. "Are the critical ships at least slated for refit as soon as we have the cash?"

I snorted. "No. They're all in low orbit at the various colonies pretending to be operational so that our good ships can escort our oh-so-fucking-critical merchant ships on their cargo runs."

A muscle in his cheek twitched once, which nearly made me smirk. The human had a lot of faults as a leader, he had all of the ambition of a stone on a beach, but he knew that some things had to be prioritized regardless of how irritating or painful it might have made those cut off from funds as a result. From the moment Aria had given us ships taken from Ganar's old fleet he'd put my ships on a pedestal. We had been the premier part of the Omega branch, the ones who got the largest budget, the most attention, and the most independence.

In comparison, Massa was far more concerned about political appearances, balancing her budget, and taking care of her precious ground troops. It was one of the main differences between the two, something I'd only started to pick up after she'd taken over.

On the surface, there wasn't much difference between Cieran and Massa besides his lack of ambition. They both shared a kind of relentless determination and focus that could be exceedingly attractive and magnetic when seen in the right water. Both were almost hyper-territorial when it came to what they considered 'theirs', and viciously defended whoever they thought of as their people.

But where Cieran had hide as thick as a Krogan's, and literally gave zero fucks to what anyone else thought of him, Massa was viciously sensitive to criticism that didn't originate from her 'social equals'... and even then she could be prickly.

"We're technically fulfilling our contractual obligations." I informed him, more than a little gleeful as I stoked his own anger against the uptight bitch. "But not much more than that. I think she's entirely focused on the long sail ahead and isn't focused enough on what's going on in the shallows around her... fuck, the last time I tried to argue with her about this she quoted religious lines about being powerful so long as you appeared to be powerful."

Though honestly the fact that Batarians had religious justifications for bluffing was something I still found to be hilarious in a pathetic kind of way.

"How is the merchant marine?" He asked.

I hesitated, then sighed. "It's in better shape than our warships, mostly, and it is profitable... but we're stuck in a fucking whirlpool we can't get out of. So long as it's running, we're making money but we're also occupying my best ships protecting them at drop offs, discharge sites, and relays. We only beat back the locals, we didn't obliterate them, and not many ran off to join the fun by the Hegemony. All of that means I can't spare those ships to handle our protection contracts to free up the ships that need a refit."

"And if we stop the shipping we won't have the income to pay for refitting those ships." Cieran's lips twisted as he took a harsh pull from his glass. "Why didn't you pursue and flatten them? Is disproportionate retribution not our standing policy anymore?"

I grimaced. "That was something like a screaming match between me and Massa, but... Athame's ass, I at least get her reasoning. We'd have to stop either the trade routes or pull ships from the defensive contracts to launch the attacks, and even if we did make it work we'd be gambling that the amount of damage we'd take would be minimal and that the rest of them would be scared enough to steer clear of us."

Neither one of which was anything like a guarantee... but not doing it had left us in this mess so I'd felt the risk justified.

Massa had disagreed.

"And you want to drag the first battlegroup away from Novgorod?"

"I want to force Massa to take a loan from the Lady to get your frigid whore of a mother to protect some of our convoys so that I can get the critical ships refit before the war starts." I told him, "Or take a big fucking loan and stop the convoys so I can refit damn near everything. She's refused both times I tried to bring it up, wants to wait until the next contract extensions for our ground troops, and wants to try and get the Lady to hire the new regiments she's raised."

Cieran shook his head, "She won't, not since she just put her Empire on a war footing again. Since we're already protecting the most profitable colonies in the area I doubt we'll get many new contracts either... damn it. We expanded beyond what we could afford."

"Massa and Shaaryak did." I corrected him, "Their fucking politics again. They're not exactly charging the Batarian colonies out near the Rim the same as they're charging New Canton and Nagato, and they're wasting entire regiments on tiny colonial contracts that should warrant a company or two at most. We're actually losing fucking cash on a lot of those according to Ven, he's in a mood too. We could afford to cancel at least a few of the trade runs and give me a reserve of ships to rotate through upgrades if they were paying what they should and if we weren't wasting troops that could be bringing in cash on other planets."

A pale hand rose to rub at his forehead. "...they're trying to build up goodwill for their long term goals."

"Yeah, but it's fucking me over now." I growled. "And it's fucking me over right before you're saying a war is coming. Massa won't listen to me, so I'm going to force her to act."

His expression became... displeased. "...This really isn't not the time for us to be infighting. Not with the Reapers coming and war so close."

"That's not the time to have a fleet in the shape ours is in either." I countered. "Look, if you tell me no I'm going to do it anyway, but it's going to be worse since I won't have a second Exec Com backing me up. I tried to get Ven to do it but that bastard still doesn't have a spine to stand up to her or especially Shaaryak... or do you want to go with my other idea where I install your ass back in that chair however I have to?"

"Goddess no." He said at once, looking ill at the very idea... though whether he was reacting to the idea of launching a coup against his old friend or at the idea of being the Director again, I wasn't sure. Probably both. "That's... dammit. All right, I'll talk to Ayle before we leave and see if I can convince her to knock if off with the discounts and wastage, and I'll back the idea of a loan from Lady T'Ravt as well. If she doesn't want to do either I'll back you if you decide that I badly need a small fleet to back my raids up."

I threw back the last bits in my glass as I hummed. It wasn't quite what I wanted, in truth I'd have been far happier with Cieran taking the Directorship back. I hadn't expected that I'd be able to talk him into it, and his reaction to me even broaching the subject had told me it wouldn't happen, but that had definitely been my best case scenario.

Still, reminding Massa that I was much more loyal to her predecessor than I was to her would be pretty solid slap in the face. A bit muted by Cie talking to her first, but a slap all the same. And considering that Cieran would never stand for me being removed from command I wasn't worried she'd try and remove me or anything so asinine.

And if she did... well, I was sure that my marines and Cieran's commandos could take Illium Minor back from the gangs who'd moved in easily enough. Dealing with Aria again would be annoying but she seemed like an almost benevolent alternative at the moment.

"Fine, deal. Where are we going anyway?"

"Anhur for starters." Cieran answered, "There's a nice band of pirates there who think that raiding the Verge and Tirrivan's supply lines make for good times. Aria wants an example made of them."

My lip curled downwards at that. "Meaning Voya's going to be let off her leash, isn't she?"

He gave me a sharp look. "I don't care for that metaphor, Joa."

I quickly held a hand up, "Athame's ass, you know I like the bitch, didn't mean anything by it. Just make sure you've got someone ready to wash her down before you let her on one of my ships."

From his expression he still wasn't happy, but he seemed to force himself to let it go. "We're going to need an evaluation of the fleet movements in that area, especially related to the Corsairs. I'd rather not get involved in a shooting war with the Alliance just because they noticed us and Lawson lurking about."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I'll get what I can for you. This going to be a hit and run or long term?"

"Anhur should be a quick search and destroy, but after that we're going to be moving to the outer edges of old Hegemony space and probably parking there for a bit." A hand rose to take my glass, and he poured us one last section of rum each. "There's a short list of people whose heads need to decorate Afterlife according to Aria, and she also wants us to poke around and see if we can corroborate Balak's claims regarding Reaper action."

"Sounds like we'll be busy then." I noted, "Think there's any chance for a fleet action? I'm not asking for one, Athame knows we don't need more damage to my bloody ships, but if there is I might need to bring more support vessels with."

"Goddess willing, no." He paused as he handed me my glass back before sighing. "But considering how much of a bitch the goddess is, best to bring them."

"Fair point." I said, doing my best to imitate his clipped inflections as I did.

His eyes narrowed to slits. "You want this rum or not?"

I held up my hands in surrender once more, and we finished the bottle before getting to work.

The Huntress

Nikita Korolev

Date: 07-08-2187

Location: Zakera Ward, Citadel, Widow Nebula

They were getting bolder.

I stared through a window at a mannequin wearing a swimsuit that would have only barely covered an Asari, and probably wouldn't have entirely covered a Human woman. A few other people glanced at the high tier store, and a pair of young Maidens were likewise looking through the glass and doing a good job to help me blend in.

It was one of the rare cases where my... unique mental processes actually helped me rather than merely made me look insane.

While I could wonder if anyone would actually buy the stupid thing I was looking at, Detective Nikita could focus on the form in the periphery of my vision.

She notice us? I asked mentally, very careful not to speak the question aloud. Once and a while I still screwed up and did that, and it usually drew the kind of attention I didn't like.

Not yet. Detective replied from the backseat of our brain. She's still sitting on the same bench, just crowd watching. Might be best to move soon.

I made a quiet sound in my throat and slowly started walking, doing my best to look like just another bored, off duty Alliance officer meandering around the Citadel as she window-shopped. The uniform had been provided by Shepard to help with situations just like this one, something to make sure I looked less like myself than usual.

Though I had to keep resisting the urge to mess with my hat... I didn't care for hats.

Still, it was necessary. The target today was Helmyra B'Lori, a young matron of absolutely no repute whatsoever, whose resume included a variety of low-tier secretarial positions as well as the occasional stint as a bartender. By the standards of two and half century old Asari, she was almost mind numbingly boring... hell, by the standards of almost anyone she was fairly boring.

But one of those secretarial jobs had been on Thessia for clan T'Ravt, a job she'd held for most of the last eight years before quitting and requesting a visa to the Citadel. Once she'd arrived she'd tried and failed to work for the Consort, like most young Asari new to the station, and then taken up a bartender's post at a strip club.

The T'Ravt connection had set off the Shadow Broker's alarms, alarms that had then grown louder when she'd been spotted on the Presidium walking with people far above her social station. The cover seemed to be the typical assumption of Asari promiscuity, B'Lori was pretty enough despite her boring career choices, but neither Aethyta nor Liara believed it. And neither did I for that matter, which was why I was helping tail her.

She was the fourth such agent sent since the Collector base, though the first that was trying to keep something like a low profile. The first three had been far more overt, relying on the fact that, while the T'Ravt clan was increasingly suspect in the eyes of aliens, among Asari they still represented the elite of the conservative-isolationist political bloc.

One had attempted to approach Councilor Tevos, and strangely hadn't even been allowed to board the Destiny Ascension to see her. That had been odd but investigating the suddenly reclusive Councilor was Shepard's duty now, and my focus had been taken up by the second two agents. The next had, again, come under an official diplomatic visa, had quietly hired one of the Consort's human aides for a private session on her ship and then departed before the woman had even arrived.

The third agent hadn't stayed much longer, making a single aborted effort to be hired as an aide in the Asari offices in the Council Tower before likewise leaving the station. She, at least, had been tailed by a few of the Broker's agents, and the theory was that she'd spotted one and gotten spooked.

We still had no idea what had caused the second to abruptly leave... or what they were even doing here, which was why it was important we found a way to either legally detain the new arrival, or find a way to ask her questions impolitely without the authorities learning about it.

Of course either of those was going to be far easier said than done.

Making sure never to look at or even really near the target, I wandered past a Turian restaurant whose food would either leave me dead or wishing I was dead, and then settled in next to another high-priced clothing place. This one was aimed more at both Humans and Asari, thankfully, so the clothing was far less minimalist and thus something I could actually consider buying.

Both to enhance my cover a bit, and to actually have a wider variety of outfits.

"Typical; stupidly expensive." I muttered on seeing the price tag on the display blouse.

Not like there's anything else to spend the credits on... wait, the reflection, she's moving again.

I frowned and made no immediate effort to follow, though I did glance sideways at the glass so I could watch as she calmly began moving. That was fast... dead drop under the bench maybe?

Maybe, but this doesn't feel right. That's too public of a location for... shit Detective's mental voice grew tense. I think they're onto us.

I blinked at that. You're sure we didn't just miss-oh shit.

The two giggling maidens from before had taken up a spot near the same store, and though they seemed to be avidly conversing as they looked at the clothing, my other half quickly ran through everything wrong with the conversation. Their motions and smirks were almost identical to the ones they'd had at the prior store, and the whole came off as more of a routine than as anything natural.

Worse, one of them wasn't quite as good at field-craft as the other, and was keeping an oblique eye in my direction whenever she though she could get away with it.

How the fuck did Aethyta miss two extras? Detective growled.

"Later." I murmured, fighting the urge to lick my lips. "Take over."

I did so, feeling Emotional slide into the backseat as we smoothly swapped places, my more logical thoughts already running through the situation. There were two maidens on my left, in skimpy enough clothes that I didn't think they were concealing weapons, but Asari were never really disarmed. B'Lori was in a more professional looking business dress and likely had at least a pistol or a warp-sword on her.

Worse, she was now ahead of me with the other two behind. I had Kasumi available to back me up, but she was waiting to take the primary tailing spot at a sport's bar more than a hundred meters ahead, and if I called her they'd notice for sure.

Still, this was the Citadel, not Omega, so I had options.

Casually turning, I acted as though I hadn't noticed the two behind me, and began lazily trailing B'Lori as I had been for the last forty minutes. Not looking behind me was a risk but I didn't think they would be so insanely bold as to accost me in public, and my luck held long enough to get me to the nearest restaurant.

A Turian waiter acquiesced to my request for a seat near the back, where I had an excellent view of the doors. The table gave me enough cover to send off an emergency message, a quiet ping indicated that Kasumi was on her way to back me up, and I had an excellent view when, to my surprise, B'Lori double-backed rather than sending in the others.

My eyes narrowed further when the maiden breezily told the same waiter she was here to see me, breezed past him before he could say anything, and came strolling over to my table.

"Number sixteen," She spoke in the typical Thessian drawl, smirking as she dropped into the chair across from me. "So good to see you, I've heard so much about your exploits."

Fingers twitched as I kept my hands beneath the table, one already carefully drawing my sidearm from my uniform jacket. "Call me that again and you'll have a gaping hole where your azure should be."

The smirk widened, bitch knew she'd scored a hit. "My, your time in the uncivilized regions seems to have affected you most adversely. Launching such uncouth threats in public, and using such language as well."

I inhaled and exhaled very slowly, pushing Emotional back when she tried to take control, to handle the feelings I had a very had time dealing with. Not now.

But-

"What do you want?" I asked harshly. "Jaime is dead, so is the traitor who helped him, and Ciarán and I are both beyond you."

"No one is beyond the reach of the gods." She countered, though her voice lowered at the last words. "You should know that as well as anyone. To think you to the be Chosen Herald of their return, and yet you threw that away out of what? Petulance over not being allowed to bed the T'Soni heir?"

It was a sharply unpleasant reminder that I'd probably been forced to give more than one complete report and then forget I had done so during the hunt for Saren, and that such a report would have included my attraction to Liara... and how my compulsion to care for Garrus had put even more strain on me.

My anger spiked only for Emotional to shove me aside, my eyes half closing as I tried to calm down my racing heart and to grip my pistol less tightly

Christ you were about to shoot someone in broad daylight!

She would fucking deserve it!

I couldn't disagree but for God's sake we were in a freaking cafe! My attention was a bit divided, keeping my other half held down in the back of our head while I also tried to return verbal salvos. "If your gods are so powerful, how did a bunch of pirates, mercenaries, and gang-bangers manage to ruin their plans for Omega?"

B'Lori didn't have a very good poker face, the smirk vanishing into something like a snarl before she managed to compose herself. "An outcome caused by a group of traitors, aided by Varren too stupid to know their place in this galaxy."

"Not very good gods then," My voice lowered to a purr as Detective's anger morphed into vindictive pleasure, an emotion I entirely shared as I smirked. "If their plans can be screwed up by a pack of mere aliens."

The Asari seethed, her expression remaining unpleasant as I leaned forwards and continued, "Let's skip the insults and go back to my first question. What do you want?"

Her blue nose flared as she let out an angry breath, her voice carrying the same emotion. "The blessed Matriarch of the T'Ravt clan wishes to make it clear that this infighting serves no purpose with the approach of the machines. She is willing to forgive your prior transgressions... and to even return your final teammate to you, if you are able to see Shepard and your Councilor are able to collar the Terminus rabble."

I had to fight down the urge, both mine and Detective's, to reach across the table and grab her by the throat.

"Liar." I growled. "Even if Tuya is still alive that bitch would never just return her like that. She'd either be insane like Jaime was, or even more loaded up with mental compulsions than me."

That damned smirk returned quickly as she quickly resumed feeding on my anger. "The Matriarch offers her personal assurance, and is even willing to ensure that the Republics actively assist in the battle with the machines."

Lies, lies, and more lies. Detective muttered.

"Then she can come here and personally assure me." I replied, entirely in agreement with my other half. "If she's too busy worshiping giant squids to make the trip, that's her problem."

And just like that the anger surged into the Asari's features once more, making me wonder if she was about as mentally stable as I was. "Don't you dare blaspheme like that."

"I'll say what I want about the things that raped my soul." I retaliated. "And I'll tell you this; No one is going to believe a word out of your Matriarch's mouth."

B'Lori's jaw clenched and then relaxed as she forced herself to calm enough to speak. "You presume to speak for all of your species in this? You will not even carry her offer to those with the authority to truly decide."

"Yes, I do, and no, I won't." I said flatly.

There was a sharp huff. "Fine, you want to condemn your people to death, then feel free. The galaxy will be better off without a bunch of short lived apes mucking about."

"If you're only going to insult me," I waved the hand not holding my gun on her stomach towards the exit, "Feel free to leave."

Her dark eyes seemed to light up. "Leave? But we haven't eaten yet... and we have so much catching up to do."

Ah, so that's what this is about. Detective's mental sigh was tired. And we walked right into it.

I was about to ask what she meant by that when B'Lori's voice lowered once more, "Velvet waves on a moonlit morning."

I stared blankly at her as she continued smirking. "What?"

Her smirk faltered as she blinked, repeating herself a little more forcefully. "Velvet waves on a moonlit morning."

For a moment I thought I felt a low throb of pain in my head, but it passed by so quickly it could have just been my imagination.

She's a disposable test. Detective's voice was scathing, though her disgust was mostly directed at us for not realizing it earlier. The Matriarch had to have realized we were hanging out with the T'Laria clan, she wanted to see if we'd found a way to try and patch things back together. She probably has a live line somewhere on B'Lori, someone else listening in.

"Ah... crap." I sighed. I wasn't really sure what advantage she'd get from realizing that my old compulsions were now buried as deeply as Ghai T'Laria had been able to manage, and mitigated further by the grey-box working to preserve and retain my memories rather than my corrupted mind. "We did walk into this."

B'Lori looked startled and increasingly worried, and she said the stupid code a third time, almost frantically, but I mostly tuned it out in favor of my own thoughts.

What do we do with this?

Detective shrugged our shoulders, I have no idea. Call in Kasumi and Aethyta's thug team I suppose, see if this idiot knows anything. Assuming the Matriarch didn't install a kill switch in her head or something equally horrible.

My stomach churned a little, ...poor idiot. What do you think she's going to do with this?

If I had to guess? Make sure Tuya and whoever else she still has around can't be saved like we were. Detective replied. Either way, I think we should alert Ciarán and probably thank Miss T'Laria.

...agreed.

"I'll be seeing you." I said as I stood up, the maiden's hands clenching on the table.

"I didn't tell you to stand." She snarled, but the panic in her eyes was visible. She'd probably thought she could put me under the old information-dump compulsion, yell that I was having an attack or something as I just sat there rigidly, and leave in the commotion. That or try and get me to leave with her. "Sit! We're not done!"

Unfortunately for the Matriarch's agent, she'd caused too much of a commotion with the last few words and drawn the Turian waiter in our direction. "Ma'am, what's going on here?"

"An old girlfriend who thinks stalking me is the way to get back into my bed." I lied smoothly, "Do you mind if I move to the bar?"

"You bitch, I have never touched-" Her mouth clicked shut and she srhank back as the Turian rolled forwards a few steps, his sheer presence evidently reminded her that he was close to seven feet tall and she barely crested five "...an... alien..."

"Ma'am, I'm going to ask you to leave." His mandibles flicked rapidly as he shifted position once more, placing himself between me and the Asari as the restaurant went silent. "Now."

B'Lori worked her jaw for several moments, spat a curse, then rose and fled with very little dignity. The crowd murmured in amusement as she did, something that seemed to enrage her further as she exited, and I saw my omni-tool flash once. A glance showed a message from Kasumi indicating she'd been lurking at the entrance, and was now in pursuit.

I smiled and shut it down, stepping forwards to gently put a hand on the waiter's arm as he pushed in the chairs at our old table and tried to straighten them. "Thank you very much for that."

"It was no problem officer." He replied, nearly making me smile as I realized that Turian's views on military authority had done more than anything else to make him aid me. "I apologize for not questioning her further when she first arrived."

"It's all right." I assured him, "If you could put in an order for a martini? I'll be at the end of the bar right over there."

"Of course ma'am."

Silver Blades Communications Log

Kean, Cieran: Too much to ask for that bitch to keep laying low.

Korolev, Nikita: I entirely agree... but if she's after me she's probably going to be investigating you too.

Kean, Cieran: Thanks for the warning, but I'm going to be on the move the next few months. If she can keep up with me she's even more connected than we thought. Any signs of the twins Krom got out, or Tuya?

Korolev, Nikita: Nothing aside from the moronic offer. If I had to guess, the twins are either dead or gone to ground... Jaime got them out in the middle of the Terminus War and their trail went cold between Omega and the Stormwall.

Kean, Cieran: Damn... all right. You sure you want to keep doing this balancing act? Mount Shepard will probably erupt if she finds out you're still communicating with me.

Korolev, Nikita: Unlike you I actually have friends here, and at least half of me would much rather stay on the Citadel than go back to your end of space.

Kean Cieran: Mmm, suppose that's true. Still, Lawson wanted me to-

Korolev, Nikita: If she merges with the SBC I'll think about it, but I'm never going anywhere near a group with that logo on it.

Kean, Cieran: ...I'll pass on the message.

Author's Notes

And we continue to draw closer. Quick reminder here that the Blades aren't exactly the same thing as a properly running nation, especially given their recent expansions that have left them quite overextended in certain areas, and a nod to the fact that withdrawing from Omega and relocating to Novgorod has had severe short-term consequences for their economy.

Next chapter we'll get some violence as the first commando missions take place, and we'll get setup for the final four chapter section which will presage the next and final story of the series.

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

Thanks, Kat