The next few days went by quickly. Too quickly for In Garrus' opinion.

Garrus and Isabelle had rejoined their friends and family to a mix of jeers and congratulations, Massani and Jack making more of a show out of the fact that their friend had, as Jack put it, "Gotten the D".

Isabelle was glad throughout most of the day that a good portion of her face was covered because she was blushing like a schoolgirl ninety-percent of the time. Garrus kept shooting her looks that could only be described as smoldering and she was impatiently waiting for the night to come so she could make her excuses to go back to her tent with him in tow.

She was needed, however, out in the open. She needed to be seen next to Massani a lot of the time. Gangs were fickle in how they looked at their leadership and any perceived weakness in Massani's leadership – her own deviations included – could provoke a coup attempt and she really didn't feel like dealing with that on top of her revenge plan.

The group gathering at the "main stage", the raised platform where Massani, Jack and Isabelle regularly were seated, also had a dual purpose. Be seen together, unified, and above the rest.

Now that The Enforcer had been contacted their guests needed to work through their plans.

Garrus informed John and Nihlus that she would not be returning with them, much to Jack and Massani's relief.

"What do you mean you're staying here?! Are you insane?!" John practically yelled, earning him a few hushing hisses from Jack and Nihlus.

"Yes, John, I am. First, I have my own business to finish now that we've gotten Zaeed's power struggle taken care of. Second, I do not trust this group Garrus is with and from what we've discussed, neither is he."

"She's right; I don't. The Enforcer and I compared notes to the attack on your space station, Massani, and the symbols she's describing are eerily similar to the symbols I remember seeing when I first woke up. I don't know that they're the same because everything is a little blurry from those first moments and I haven't seen anything on the ship yet, but that mixed with the fact that the attack seemed to come after my ship was notified of the coordinates makes me uneasy. I'm going to follow my gut on this one and say we should hold off on announcing that I've found what I was looking for." Garrus quickly interjected before John could continue to argue with Isabelle.

Nihlus was the first to concede and sighed while shaking his head, "You have a point. I have to admit I was suspicious myself, especially when Saren said who was in charge of your deal, Garrus. Desolace is not the most stable turian on a good day… If he's found a reason to side with Harper on this then… Well, it would be unpleasant to act too hastily."

John just crossed his arms and glared at Isabelle, obviously trying to silently bully his sister in to agreeing with him. It had the opposite effect and she crossed her own arms and glared right back.

She could do this all day long, they had been having these silent arguments since they were children.

She knew what he wanted, he wanted her to at least come on his ship. He wanted her under his "watchful eye" where he could keep her safe. She shook her head and he grumbled.

Their audience watched with interest to see which sibling would be victorious and when John finally uncrossed his arms and grabbed a beer, proceeding to take a too-large gulp from it they knew that she had won.

She would be staying and enacting her plan.

"So, Enforcer, what is your plan from here on out?" John asked, saying her title with a bit of annoyed disdain. She had to remind herself that he wasn't insulting her, wasn't challenging her authority. She did not need to maim or kill him to maintain control.

She was no longer in prison where everything was in question.

Isabelle took a deep breath to quell her visceral immediate reaction and smirked a bit behind her mask.

"I am going to assassinate Hackett. After I get him to give me all of his footage and correspondence from the Harper's alteration program, of course."

Nihlus' mandibles went slack for a moment and John's mouth hung open in an equally startled gesture. She couldn't suppress the chuckle that broke past her lips and earned herself an undignified nudge from Garrus.

She had told Garrus her plan already and, while he didn't like not being there with her, understood.

"You're going to WHAT?!" John exclaimed as he stood and threw his arms in the air. "Are you suicidal!? He's one of the most guarded admirals in the Alliance! You won't even get close."

The smirk she wore was obvious by her tone, "Won't I? John I've spent three years trying to go as unnoticed as possible. Neither you, Saren or Nihlus had ever found me and don't pretend you haven't tried. Garrus may have given you the nudge to look at the obvious, but Aria does let me know when people are poking around Omega for me. I've killed quite a few people during my time in prison and out of it, I will get in and I will kill him."

John must have seen something in her eyes because he just sighed and sat back down, drinking from his beer again.

"How will we contact you?" Nihlus decided to change the subject from her planned assassination. It was better if he and John heard little of it given their Spectre status. It was hard to say what you did or did not know about when you stopped listening.

"I will contact you. Garrus gave me your omnitool ID's so I can send you a message when I'm ready for pickup. Besides, I feel like you'll already know when it's time." She winked at the group, Nihlus and John further unsettled by the cackles and deep laughs erupting from Massani and Jack.

Jack stood on a table as she excitedly made her statement, "Yeah, boys, you'll know when The Enforcer follows through. Half of the galaxy will know!" She immediately knocked back another gulp of her liquor as she fell backwards into Massani's lap.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow as she watched the show. Apparently she hadn't been paying attention to her companions' relationships. Probably because her own was dead – why would she want to watch other people's romances? Judging from the way Jack was wrapping herself around Zaeed and his apparent glee at the circumstance, she guessed this wasn't a new occurrence.

Shit, she was a bad friend. She hadn't noticed this before – or maybe they hadn't expressed this in front of her?

She wondered if they had held back for her sake, knowing what she was going through. Knowing that watching someone else's budding involvement might make her feel more despondent.

The way Zaeed looked from her to Garrus and winked, she felt her estimation was right. Now that she was moving on from having her lover die in front of her they felt they could be more public about it.

She was surprised they weren't questioning her about whether she really believed it was him, whether she could trust this walking miracle that was warming her bed. They were probably reassured by Nihlus and John before Garrus and she had come out of the tent.

Massani had always been a bit of a fatherly figure to her, not as much as Captain Anderson had been, but still there looking out for her and giving her advice. She still remembered the first time she met him on assignment. She was supposed to take down a slaving ring and another person had taken out a rival contract.

Massani was their mercenary. He had already been booted from the Suns at this point and was working as a freelancer.

They had worked against each other for days as they tried to outsmart one another to get to their targets. They were upfront about who they worked for in an attempt to bully the other in to submission with the "My boss is bigger than your boss" argument.

They finally started working together when they were both caught in an avalanche. They were approaching the slaver's camp, loudly. They were too busy trying to outdo one another that the slavers were tipped off to their presence and started blasting at the mountain side they were camped out next to.

The slavers had moved their camp a ways away without Massani and Isabelle noticing, blasted the mountain and effectively caught their would-be killers.

It had taken her and Massani more days to finally get out of the rubble and it had forced them to work together. They found that they worked well when they weren't comparing metaphorical dick sizes.

They had worked together again to take down the slavers and both went back to their bosses triumphant.

An added bonus was that Massani and she communicated frequently, working together more and more throughout the years and they became good friends.

Jack was a completely different story. Jack and Isabelle had met by chance, in prison.

It was the first week Isabelle was there, still working out the politics of prison. She found Jack being overwhelmed by men, attempting to overpower her and… Well, do what evil men do in prison to unsuspecting women.

The surprising fact, that Isabelle only found surprising when she thought back on to it now, was that Jack was overwhelmed at all. Jack was a mean ball of spitfire on most days.

Isabelle hadn't hesitated to go to Jack's rescue, helping to fight off the men and pull her out of harm's way.

Later, Jack had admitted that one of the people had been someone she had grown up with.

No, grown up with signifies some sort of relationship. He had grown up around her, separate but in the same place. He had surprised Jack by talking about her childhood, effectively stunning her into a shocked child-like state.

Isabelle had helped Jack regain her previous composure and ever since Jack had been her constant companion.

It helped that Isabelle asked nothing of Jack and she probably was the only person who had found out Jack's potential and never asked anything of her. Isabelle had actually refused to involve Jack at first. She would discuss her plans with Massani, but refuse to allow Jack to help.

Jack finally argued her way in and Isabelle has never regretted that decision. She had to admit that she'd miss the "psychotic biotic" if she hadn't brought her along. Jack was the closest thing to a "BFF" she'd ever had.

The sun was finally setting as the drinks had started to flow more freely. John and Nihlus were excusing themselves to their shuttle to meet back up with Saren – apparently a nightly ritual, while Isabelle grabbed Garrus by the hand and indicated that they should go to privacy as well.

The boys were leaving in the morning, heading back to Saren and their own ships. They all had responsibilities other than babysitting her and they couldn't stay here like this for too long.

Her stomach clenched at the thought of already saying goodbye to Garrus and judging from the way he was looking at her he wasn't too excited about it either.

Once in the tent, he wrapped an arm around her and dragged her front flush with his. He pulled her mask down her face and brushed his lip plates over her mouth, sighing into the movement.

"Let's not waste this." He muttered against her lips as his hands began to work the fastenings on her clothes.

She smiled sadly and mimicked his movements, removing his armor just as hastily before they fell onto her bed in a desperate embrace.

The morning came too quickly, sleep had eluded them and instead they worked hard on imprinting as much of themselves on the other that they could.

The sex wasn't the same rough, fast passion that they had shared the previous day; this wasn't two lovers reuniting after years a part, desperate for the other's touch. No, this was two lovers about to leave one another. This was each person trying to leave a piece of their soul with the other.

When the time came they slowly unattached themselves from the other and got dressed for the day. They didn't speak, just dressed slowly and carefully. Outside the tent was the real world, a world that meant that Garrus would leave to risk his lives for others and Isabelle would risk her own to avenge lives lost and altered beyond repair.

They touched foreheads, kissed lips, and then steeled themselves for the day. They exited the tent together and walked to the camp together. Still, no words were spoken.

Nihlus and John were waiting for them at the edge of the camp, Massani and Jack nowhere to be seen. This was not their farewell and they knew it.

John hugged his sister, Nihlus brushed his mandible against her cheek, and Garrus ran a finger over her collar bone. He seemed to hold himself back from doing more as he turned and marched on to the shuttle. John and Nihlus muttered their goodbyes and followed, the shuttle taking off shortly after they all had boarded.

She watched the shuttle to move out of visibility before she turned on heel and marched back in to the camp.

It was time to start her war and she had all of the motivation she needed to make sure that it was done right. For the first time since she had started to plan her revenge she actually cared if she survived it or not.

She needed to rework her plan of attack, she needed to make sure that she had back up this time, and she needed a fantastic distraction.

In fact, she had just the thing in mind.


Garrus returned to his ship with a mix of feelings. He hated leaving Isa behind, but knew and agreed with her reasoning. He also was wary of all of his crew, who would be a betrayer? He felt emboldened by the notion that someone was a spy (or maybe they all were?) and also a little sickened.

They had spent so much effort putting him back together, was it to torture him with the idea that he could never have peace? He knew their mission, had researched the disappearances himself and he knew that they weren't lying, so why the spy?

He didn't even know for sure yet if there was a spy… But ever since Isa had mentioned it he couldn't shake the feeling that she was right.

Dr. Michel was waiting on the Command Deck when he arrived back on the ship, immediately marching up to him and demanding to know where he had been, what he had found, and why he had not contacted her.

Why he had not contacted her, not the ship in general. "I thought I was the commander of this ship, Doctor?" He couldn't keep the grumble out of his voice, his annoyance apparent.

She was flustered by his response, but not dismayed. "Yes, and I would still like to know where you were. I spent years helping to bring you back to the living and I would like to know that my efforts were not wasted. Desolace is growing impatient and wants to know when you can start work on the task he gave you. You owe him a lot and this is disrespectful of the credits he put in to you for you to gallivant all over looking for some lost lover!" Her pitch increased on the last work and Garrus felt that she had really meant that his obsession with looking for a lost lover was why she was really upset.

"You're right." He said and she seemed to want to continue arguing before the words sunk in.

"I, what, I am?" She started to fiddle with her hands as he strode past her towards the elevator doors.

"Yes, set a course for the last settlement to go missing. We'll see if there's any clues left behind. Also forward me those dossiers from Desolace. I will go through them and while we're investigating we'll pick some of them up."

She was following behind him with a bit of a stunned look while nodding with his orders. "Yes, of course Garrus… What did you find with them that has made you suddenly decide to get started?" She looked at him suspiciously, her hand in the elevator door to keep the door from closing.

"I found the answers I needed. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a shower and to organize some things before we reach our destination." He reminded himself of his father as he spoke, quick authority and leaving no room for questions.

"Would you like company?" She asked coyly, holding her hands behind her back causing her chest to be thrust out.

She did not get the hint and he must have not been as authoritative as he thought he was being.

"No." He stated simply before actually pulling her hand off of the elevator door to allow the door to close. He punched in his destination and smirked to himself.

He had a plan and clearly defined goals now. More importantly, he had Isa. Sure, she wasn't there with him, but she was his. They would be reunited for good once this mess was taken care of.

Now he just needed to shower and alter his omni-tool to increase the inscription, search for physical and software bugs, and debug his room.

Simple child's play.


Isabelle had set her plan in motion, letting it leak that the Blue Suns were going to attack some major Alliance officials as payback for having worked so hard to put Massani behind bars the first round.

Massani had gone in to hiding and she had contingents of the gang spread out around the galaxy. They used their own code and language to communicate movements and raids.

The gang members themselves were surprisingly enthusiastic about the entire endeavor. Only a few knew the true plan, but the rest were just happy to have the go ahead on attacking shipments and installations – though they were under orders to drive the soldiers off and not outright kill.

Isabelle knew that was fairly unrealistic with gang members versus soldiers and she tried, unsuccessfully, to not dwell on the idea. She was sentencing many to their deaths. She comforted herself by telling herself that she was saving many others from unsanctioned experiments.

She would have been apprehensive about this had she not stumbled upon some information that sealed her plan of attack.

Hackett was authorizing experiments on his own soldiers. They were always already injured, presumed dead, and therefore their extended absence was never thought of as strange.

She had been lucky to stumble upon the information as it was, a doctor who was working on the project had decided to vacation in Omega while she was there on business. The man was a blubbering mess by the time she had found him. He was drinking his worries away and had broken the second rule of Omega.

If you're human, don't drink in Afterlife.

He was already near death when she had dragged him out of the bar, not wanting to give the batarian bartender the satisfaction of seeing his newest victim die in front of a crowd. The doctor had said it was his penance for his sins. He had said that they were doing monstrous things to soldiers, that they were killing more than they were helping.

She knew this man wasn't actually giving her information, he was delusional and nearly dead. He was rambling the thoughts that were running close to the surface, all the while keeping the actual details silent.

He had died before he could give her a location.

She spent months tracking down enough information to determine if it was true or simply the drunken ramblings of a dying man. What she found was disturbing, but not damning. Had she found something actually solid she would simply hijack a news station and air everything publicly. Instead, she was going to break in to Hackett's office.

She had her distraction team ready to go, creating a disturbance within shuttle range of the Fifth Fleet, drawing eyes to them while she boarded and snuck to the Admiral's office.

There, she would do what she did best, get the information, kill Hackett, and get out before she was discovered.

She wasn't a foolish woman, she knew already that Hackett would likely be alone in his office. He preferred to work this way. She had pretended to be a fan, someone who had watched his career for years and wanted to be like the man, and had hounded his officers on shore leave for any detail.

All the questions she asked were, individually, innocuous. She wasn't asking anything untoward or strange. The key was to ask different questions from different people. When you pieced everything together the puzzle became a masterpiece.

She had learned that he kept his officers out of his office, preferring to do business alone. He would call people in when he needed things done and they were handy. If someone was going to take too long to get to the office, he would simply send them orders via Omni.

He had become more reclusive as his years as an admiral piled up. At one point he was considered a good officer and a good man. He was once always out with his men, not some hermit who directed from his golden throne.

She could only surmise that the burden of guilt at what he was condoning was weighing on him. She smirked to herself as she gave the go ahead to move her plan in motion. She was doing the man a favor that he would not appreciate, killing him was for his own good as well as the good of his soldiers.

She waited patiently for her team to send the signal saying that she was good to go.

She was nestled in the air vents of an incoming freighter that was delivering supplies from a nearby farming colony. She had snuck on board during loading and simply camped out until it took her where she wanted to go.

She had disengaged communications other than from select people, not wanting her omni-tool to give her position away.

The signal came through just as the ship was docking with the cruiser Gallahad. She slipped from the transport unnoticed, her cloak keeping her from being seen. She moved expertly from the transport in to the electrical ducts of the Gallahad, having studied the layout of the ship for weeks before she was ready to infiltrate.

She worked her way through different levels of security and barriers, keeping her intrusion as minimal as possible. Just a glitch here and a flicker there, all common on older cruisers.

She had worked closely with her tech expert, Valof, a batarian technical engineer gone rogue. He had shown her the best ways to bypass any system with minimal feedback. She silently thanked the deities for him every time she successfully navigated another security panel.

It seemed like hours she was working her way from the bottom of the ship to the top. She finally bypassed the last panel and slipped through to the air ducts for the Admiral's office. As promised, he was sitting at his desk looking at a data pad.

She quickly sent a hacking program through the door's electrical line, as planned, and imprisoned the Admiral in his own workspace.

She silently dropped through the vent and landed behind the man, her breath coming in excited pants. She was still covered and her identity well protected as planned, but she wished for one moment that she could see the horror on his face when he recognized her.

Her breaths alerted him to her presence and he reeled on her, swinging a fist blindly.

She dodged the fist and returned with one of her own. His aging body no match for her altered one. He sank back into his chair with a grunt of pain. She quickly dove on him, securing him to his chair. He called out for help, but was answered with only her laugh.

"They can't hear you, that's the thing about industrial strength cruiser doors. You want them to protect you in case of an attack or fire… Makes it hard to hear you without coms." She laughed as he tried again to get someone's attention.

"What do you want, assassin?" He ground out when he realized that she was right and he wasn't getting any backup any time soon. His door being locked was not uncommon when he didn't want disturbances, but the lack of comms will notify someone that something is wrong.

"I want all of the information you have on your dealings with Jack Harper, his Miranda Lawson, and the experiments on your soldiers." She made her demands easily, leaning in to her hip as she crossed her arms over her midsection.

He stared at her wide eyed for a minute before spitting at her feet. "No."

"No? Are you sure? I mean, I'd hate to get too much blood on that lovely uniform of yours." She didn't wait for his answers as she strode to his work console and began trying to hack into it.

He watched her for a minute before his pride overcame his desire to live, "You won't get in to it, and you need me alive for the files you're looking for. If you keep mucking about it'll self-destruct, so I would stop while you're ahead. You might want to start thinking about how you're going to get back out of here."

He seemed entirely too smug for her and she turned her attention away from the computer to him. "Well then… I'll just have to make sure you tell me and survive until I have it, won't I?"

He paled a bit, but straightened his posture. "You'll never break me."

She smiled as she advanced on him, moving him further from the desk so that she had some room to work.


Captain Anderson forced himself to watch the security footage until the end, when the assassin left the same way she had come.

It was all over the news, the fall of the Great Admiral Hackett. The assassin had aired file after file on demented experiments, depraved dealings with sick minds, and forcing his own soldiers to undergo untested augmentations.

All for personal gain and the glory of the Fifth Fleet. Alliance command will have a field day mopping up this PR mess.

The more compelling question was who this assassin was, or who had sent her. Even with the poor video quality he could tell that the woman was human, and augmented. Her eyes were visible glowing dots under the shade of her hood. The rest of her face from below her eyes was covered in a mask.

It had become apparent throughout the vid that she was unnaturally strong. The way she could move Hackett as if he were a child, the ease in which she broke his legs, the speed in which she dodged when he managed to break a little bit free and strike at her.

She had tortured him only for a short time, apparently getting the code to his personal computer easily enough. She had mocked him as she rummaged through his files and copied then publicized the files she was looking for.

Hackett had contracted out with the once-famous, now infamous Jack Harper. The man was known for being a loose cannon now, too much of "the ends justify the means" in his tactics.

Hackett had asked the woman if she was going to torture him, if she was finished with her revenge.

It was then that she turned to look at him, her face seen by the camera (well, as much as you could under the gear) and her eyes glistened with malice.

"No, I'm not done with my revenge. This is just the beginning."

He started to say something and she didn't hesitate to reach for her holstered weapon and put a hole in Hackett's forehead. Anderson could hear her muttering, "Never say that name. You haven't earned that right."

So Hackett had been about to out his attacker. He knew her, so she wasn't just a contractor – this was personal.

He sighed and ran his hand over his head, she was probably one of the ones he forced into one of the programs. He'd seen this movie, the damaged and battered soldier exacting their revenge. He understood, but that didn't make it right and it didn't sate the Alliance's questions.

He was tasked with finding her and getting to the bottom of this and he knew just where to start.

As Alliance, however, he had limited access around the galaxy. He only had power where humans had power and therefore he needed more.

He knew just where to go for more, too.

Anderson sat down at his desk and composed his request to John Shepard. Spectre John Shepard. He had been close to Shepard and his younger sibling as they grew up and as they increased in ranks through the Alliance.

He knew he could count on that friendship to find his prey.