MASS EFFECT: ONE

by Jennyslaw

What happened in the hours before and after endgame? Mass Effect: ONE tells that tale through the eyes of Mass Effect's most memorable characters, each with one mission, to help finish what Shepard started: defeat the Reapers. Each of Shepard's actions has shaped the person they have become. Now, her final action will shape their decisions and affect their lives.

13. ONE by ONE

I am so terribly sorry it's taken me this long to upload the next chapter. Life has basically done a hit and run on me. I'm trying to get things back on track, so I hope you can forgive my absence and enjoy this chapter. It's a long one. About 30 pages on Microsoft Word.

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MASS EFFECT: ONE

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"The universe is a dark place."

~Thane Krios~

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ONE BY ONE

Citadel Embassies – After Endgame

"…if we don't get moving, we're dead."

That's what she'd told them in a time that seemed like forever ago. Strange thing was, she thought they already were. Hadn't they already been through this fight and lost?

Husks everywhere, as far as the eye could see. No visible space on the ground. They kept coming in endless wave after wave, like a tsunami. But they fought the husks, and the pain, and the fatigue, and the sweat in their eyes. Blow for blow, they stood their ground. To her right, Bailey, fought gracefully at her side as if he'd always belonged there. Perhaps they could never truly call one another "friends," not in this life or any other, but between them, there was a mutual respect.

And to her left, a face she thought she might never see again, but here he was. Four-eyed and ugly, his only saving grace being his unwavering devotion, Bray fought like an animal in a cage. She loved him a little, she guessed. No, not with any sort of romantic love. (Don't be ridiculous. She would have to be terminally desperate to hook up with a batarian! They were as ugly as an elcor's ass, or an elcor's face. Didn't really matter, because an elcor's face was pretty much the same as his ass.) This was a different sort of love. The love you might feel for a good dog, maybe. Bray was like that. Fiercely loyal, no matter what. He would give his all for her.

But, hadn't he already? Hadn't they all? So, what was the point?

Something was not right here. This wasn't the way it had happened. Aria dropped her weapon. She stopped fighting, and the most surrealistic thing happened. One by one, the husks came to a standstill. If there were crickets on the Citadel, she might have heard one chirp. Instead, the sound of their collective breaths filled the dark space around them. She watched their chests heave in tandem. Inhalation. Exhalation. They were as one.

This was a dream. Had to be. Husks just didn't do that.

Out the corner of her eye, Bailey must have been thinking the same thing. She saw him take a step backward, behind her. He was as ready to leave the nightmare behind as she was. But to her left, Bray merely looked at her and gave her a toothy grin she couldn't understand at all. Then, he walked toward the throngs of husks.

"Bray, what are you doing?" she called out, but he didn't seem to hear her. Or maybe it was that her lips hadn't moved at all. Or perhaps she had never spoken aloud even though she thought she had. Whatever the reason, Bray wasn't listening. He seemed to have his own agenda. Into their throngs he went, slipping into their numbers like a ghost, but the husks were not fooled. They turned on him, attacked him. He didn't not protest or yell or fight back, even as they began devouring him. Aria could do nothing but stand there. His feet didn't move. Her mouth couldn't scream. Her weapon wouldn't shoot. She fought with every ounce of strength within her. Summoning her biotic powers, she pulled at the force holding her in her place, grappled with it until it gave her back the control she deserved over her own body, but in the end, it relented only on her voice. With it, Aria bellowed…

"BRAY!"

She came upright on the couch with such force she nearly tumbled from it. Fresh pain bloomed in her left leg. She cried out, clutching her wound in both hands, gritting her teeth against the pain. The realization that she was no longer in a dream, but lying on a comfortable couch within the Council's chambers hit her like a skycar at full speed. This was the present. This was now, and it wasn't just Bailey and Tevos watching over her in a vulnerable state. There seemed to be more eyes in this room than had access to her in Afterlife. Seemingly every lesser member of the council hovered nearby, from turian to elcor. Faces she knew. Faces she despised. Faces she didn't know at all. Every one of them had turned her way. Every one of them were looking at the pitiful and injured Aria T'Loak, ruler of Omega, Pirate Queen, etc., etc., and all the other meaningless titles she had acquired over the years, none of them specifically created by herself.

She had cried out in pain and in fear, but mostly anger. She was still angry, burning with it in point of fact. Which made the faces, staring at her as though they were staring at an apparition, startled by its inexplicability, all the more hated.

"What?" she yelled at them. "You want something to look at? Look in the mirror, and you'll see a pathetic coward."

That did the trick. One by one, they all turned away. All except for one face that slipped through the crowd and came running to her side. Tevos.

"Aria? Are you all right?"

Aria took in a breath as if she had been holding it for hours. Out of all the bad that had happened, there was one good thing—her last memory had been...

"Just a dream."

"Well, after all you've been through—"

"Do me a favor, Tevos," Aria said through tight lips, pushing Tevos's comforting hand away. "Stop coddling me. I'm not a child and we haven't been mates for hundreds of years. I've 'been through' this because you kept me here."

Despite every scathing word, Tevos did not flinch. She maintained her typical, bureaucratic composure. "And where would I be if I had let you leave? Answer me that, Aria."

"You'd be dead." Aria did flinch either, but she did smile her typical, caustic smile.

Tevos sighed. "Spare me your Queen Bitch of the Universe routine. We patched you up. You should be grateful. How do you feel?"

"Better," Aria answer, looking away. "What happened?"

"We've mended the tear in your artery, injected stimulants to increase blood production as well as pain reduction. Medi-gel has stopped the bleeding. You should be able to walk."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Swinging her legs off the edge of the couch, Aria carefully regained her feet. She had always despised being injured. It was the same as being a cripple or mentally retarded. People treated you differently than they had before. They stared and ogled. Thankfully, she had remedied that. She had asserted her authority over her space, the part of her that was still Omega, and the people respected it enough to stay out of her way. Yet, their presence was still too much. She felt the flitting of their eyes in her direction like tiny tangible touches. They were hard to ignore, particularly when she put pressure on the leg, felt pain bloom there again and stumbled. Hushed, gossipy whispers reached her ears across the space of the small room.

Tevos caught her, but the indignance of their stares became magnified in Aria's mind. Another minute longer and she would explode.

Pushing herself away from the strength of Tevos, Aria stood on her own two feet. "Last I heard this station was on a collision course with Earth." Her voice, seemingly bigger than the station and more pronounced than their whispers, filled the room. "Don't any of you sorry bastards have something better to do?"

"Sorry bastards is right," said a familiar voice. Aria turned to see Bailey walking up to her with a smile on his face. "This tightwad bunch wouldn't know how to light a fire with a match in one hand and a ball of paper in the other."

"Commander," Tevos reprimanded.

Bailey shrugged. "Well, it's true. How are you feeling, Aria?"

Aria couldn't help but give the commander a salty grin. Their time left on this station was probably numbered down to the hours, but she felt a certain hopefulness seeing Bailey again.

"I'm alive…no thanks to you."

Bailey laughed. It was a laugh that meant he understood. She wouldn't dare mention the number of times he'd saved her life since their shared hell had begun and he knew it.

"Far be it from me to take credit for saving your life. I'm only glad to see you alive. Not everybody agrees with me, but we're going to need you." The smile on Bailey's face drew into a serious frown. "We've got about six hours to get this bird to fly right or we'll all be putting our heads between our legs and kissing our asses goodbye. Volus included, though they can't even scratch theirs."

"So, what's the plan?"

Bailey sucked in and exhaled a heavy breath. "We have another problem to solve before we fix our current one."

"I don't believe this is the right time to speak of this," Tevos said, stepping up and almost between Aria and Bailey. "Aria is still wea—"

Aria placed a hand on Tevos's arm, but her eyes were on Bailey. "Please," she said with a forced graciousness and crossed her arms. "Tell me. What is this problem?"

Bailey gave Tevos a sideways glance and she nodded reluctantly, giving her consent despite her own objection. Though Bailey's voice was low, he spoke without fear. "The council is our problem, Aria. They plan on arresting you."

There was a moment when the world around Aria seemed to shift. Like the flickering of a vid screen, it went in and out. An old rage (or at least it seemed old, though in the stream of time it was hardly an embryo) seeped up. She felt the needed to grab something, anything, and throw it across the room. There were books piled on a desk nearby, as though someone had picked them up from where they fell from a bookshelf and haphazardly set them on the end of a desk. She wanted to send them flying. Either with her hands or with biotics, it didn't matter. If people got in the way of her tirade, then so be it. She would toss them as she tossed the books and the salt and the pots and pans and utensils. Who cared if both Bailey and Bray looked at her as if she were insane? Who cared if every husk, cannibal, and Reaper could hear her for miles around? This was here, this was now…

And then Aria realized with a shudder, that this was not now. This was the past. Only the gods of any galaxy would know just how much in the past it was. Time had taken on a suddenly surreal quality. What was past? What was present? All Aria knew was that the seemingly flickering vid screen of her life had shifted to a time when she stood in a demolished kitchen, inside of a demolished diner where tables were turned over and food spoiled on the floor, and she stared across a dirty kitchen island at Bray who had watched her tirade silently as he often had before. And though she had known the reason for her actions were simple—they weren't getting off the Citadel, they weren't going back home, not now not ever—the only answer she gave to Bray for her actions had been…

EEE

Citadel – Before Endgame

"It means, Bray, that if we don't get moving, we're dead."

Those words felt like a lifetime ago, though in fact, they were just five minutes old. In those five minutes, they had taken some much-needed sustenance in the form of food and water. Well, Bailey and Bray had stuffed their faces, but the dead body on the ground beside them didn't exactly make her hungry, so Aria guzzled a glass of water like a dying woman. She would need the fuel to keep her going.

They didn't have much time to take what they needed. With a mostly dead Reaper right outside that still seemed to have the ability to communicate with its minions. Her tirade, though unstoppable, had been ill timed. The husks would be on their way back, and soon.

Gulping her last, Aria set her glass down and wiped her mouth. "Did either of you notice a back way out of here?"

Bray chewed his final bite of food (something cold and meaty that would have just spoiled if left uneaten) and swallowed. "No, but I could check. Be right back."

"Make it quick."

As Bray slipped out the kitchen through a rear pantry door, Aria inspected her most favorite of outfits. She had never been the overly fashionable sort, but she also wasn't the kind to wear whatever came out of the closet either. This particular set—with the white jacket trimmed in fuchsia and the Omega logo on the back—was her favorite. It told everyone who was queen without having to wear a ridiculous crown. Now, it was a tattered ruin. The sleeves, which came to a tight wrap around her wrists, were singed and shredded. The black jumper underneath had a tear in the thigh of one leg and the knee of the other. Probably from the crash. Her outfit had never gotten this messed up during her tangles with Cerberus on Omega.

With a grimace, she pulled the ruined jacket from her shoulders and tossed it across the kitchen island, where Bailey finished off a sandwich and contemplated the pattern of the cook's brains on the wall.

He'd been quiet since her outburst; or should she say, since their argument. If you could call it that. Clearly, what he'd seen had disturbed him, so much so he'd utterly ignored her command to "take point" and started looking for something to eat and drink. Bray had followed suit, and so, ironically, had she. Now that they were fueled and ready to go, her first thought was to issue the command again, but instead, she did something completely unlike herself. This was more like the ghost of Shepard whispering in her ear.

"Are you going to be able to go on, Bailey?" She did, however, ensure that the essential Aria T'Loak remained.

Bailey laughed. It was caustic. If he had continued, it might have burned her ears, but hilarity ended quick for Bailey. He gulped the last of his water and turned to her. "That your way of asking if I'm all right, T'Loak?"

She gave him a smile as disingenuous as her as her next words. "I don't need a soldier who can't fight just because he saw something that bothered him."

"We're all bound to see something that'll disturb us more than once in this hell." His eyes fell to her jacket on the island between them as whatever horror he'd experienced played across his face, but he looked back up at her with determination. "I can fight. Don't you worry. Owen doesn't mean warrior for nothing. Well, it actually means 'young warrior' but we both know I'm past that stage, don't we?"

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Owen?"

"My name, actually. I have a first one. People just don't go around calling me Commander or Bailey on a regular basis, Aria."

Her eyebrow dropped and a frown ensued. "When did we get to be on a first name basis?"

"Somewhere between Purgatory and Hell," he said with a knowing smile. Aria almost smiled in return. He meant the nightclub just before "hell" broke loose.

"How 'bout it? I'll call you Aria and you can call me Owen."

"I'm not particularly fond of first names. I don't even know Bray's."

Bailey harrumphed and gave a sad half-smile. "The three of us are in this together, you know, and life is too damn short to be that much of a hardass."

As though his words were a prediction, something like a plate or a sliver of glass went skittering across the dining room floor, followed by the low growling moan of a single husk. A scout. It was coming, and it knew exactly where to look.

Aria picked up the butcher knife she had used to skewer the last husk and handed another one to Bailey just as Bray appeared out of the pantry door.

"Hurry, this way," he said, waving them over.

Stuffing the last husk against the door as nothing more than a way of buying themselves some time, Aria grabbed one more blade for Bray and follow the two men out of the kitchen on silent feet. The door flipped closed noiselessly as Bray led them through a maze of back stock shelves loaded with dry goods and silverware, past employee lockers and a break room table. On one wall was an ancient arcade game that no one would ever play again. And ahead, was another door that read EXIT in bright red letters. Bray went straight for the door but stopped.

"What are we waiting for?" Aria whispered.

Bray brought up a hand. "Be patient."

Patient? Somewhere behind them, a door was opening. She couldn't hear the squeak of its hinges or the swish of air as the door swung open, but the mindless growl of a husk was unmistakable. It was coming.

In Bray's search for a back way out, he had stumbled across this door and nearly stumbled across two more husks. He'd opened it easily enough, but only to discover the unsightly used-to-be-humans standing about three feet from the door. By some miracle known only to fools and the careless, the husks' backs had been to him and they hadn't seen his quick duck back into the diner's stockroom. Had they, the three of them would have found themselves stuck, as the old saying goes, between a rock and hard place.

You see, what Aria didn't know, what none of them knew, was that while they refueled, while they talked and looked for a way out, they were being surrounded. These seemingly lone husks were exactly as Aria surmised they were—scouts—on the lookout for any stragglers. It was easy, during a system of genocide, to overlook a few of your quarry, who might have hidden or appeared to be dead who weren't. Sometimes, the ones taking part in the genocide had to go back and make sure they got everybody. Now, they were sure they had three such somebody's to get.

So, instead of 'holding up the works' as Aria thought he was, Bray was peeking through the door, which he'd opened a crack, and was waiting for his moment to strike. And while Aria was looking over her shoulder, Bray brought up two fingers, indicating what was waiting for them on the other side of the door. With Aria's steel gift in his hand, he nodded to Bailey, an unspoken deal to strike passing between them, and he opened the door.

It happened simultaneously. None of the husks could have calculated such a scenario. They were too dimwitted, too slow. They knew only one thing—find and attack. It didn't matter what it was. If it moved and it had a pulse, attack it. The one coming through the kitchen and the two standing out behind the diner (like a couple of employees taking a smoke break and talking shit about their boss) each saw almost the exact same thing at the exact same time (in whatever way husks saw things through those glowing orbs they called eyes)—a moving pulse with a blade.

Aria caught hers by hiding behind the ancient arcade game. When it was close enough, her blade found its way into an eye socket. There was an electrical discharge, a burst of black viscous liquid, which splattered on her arm, and the husk's life ebbed from it like air out of a hot air balloon. But not before its one good eye locked onto her, registered her.

Bray and Bailey caught theirs nearly unawares. Their mistake was in their need to hurry. The sound of their footfalls triggered a response and the husks saw them before they took them down, one with a blade to the temple and the other with a blade to the base of the skull.

Each of them thought they had taken down the threat before it could become a greater one. Unfortunately, what one husk saw, all husks saw.

As Aria came bounding out of the exit door, giving both Bray and Bailey a bad scare, the same cacophonous sound reached their collective ears at the same time. It started as a low rumble in the distance, and then, second by second, inch by inch, it grew. A growl became a roar. One set of feet became many. Bailey knew it. He'd heard it already when he watched a horde of them take out a school, and he'd wished to never hear it again. He was the first one to recognize it.

"Oh shit!"

"What?"

Bailey laid a heavy hand on Bray's shoulder, pulling on him, getting him to move. "Aria, if you ever wanted to find out his given name, ask him now before we run out of chances. We've gotta go! Now!"

Baffled, Bray looked at Bailey and Aria, but he was moving. He didn't know what was happening, but he was moving. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Aria moved too, following the two men as they darted out onto the street where they had left their old buddy, the Reaper, in pieces. She chanced one quick look behind before she ducked around the next building. The diner's back exit had let out onto an unruly service road, filled with rubbish bins and back alley vid-com consoles. Even on a good day, the service roads had sporadic lighting. Not much need for them, since there wasn't any reason for anyone to be back here, except for those who worked the shops or maintained the businesses along this strip. But in the distance, coming like a rippling grey wave as the beams of light reflected off of their bald, opaque heads, was a mass of husks.

"Nothing," Aria breathed in answer to Bray. "Move!"

EEE

Shaped like a capital Y and full of fish. Bluegills, yellow perch, rock bass; you name it; you could probably catch it in Keuka Lake. It was a little slice of heaven on Earth. Maybe a year ago, maybe a little more than a year ago, Bailey had gone there on vacation (when he had an opportunity for such a thing as vacations. Nowadays, vacations were just a dream, an idea you told a buddy about but knew you'd never see again). He had promised the kids he would take them camping and fishing. His youngest, Donna, hadn't been too keen on the idea. She'd wanted to hang with her girlfriends. They were of the intellectual sort, called geeks or nerds in another lifetime, who pondered the immense depths of an elcor interpretation of Hamlet. Bailey didn't get it. An elcor tired him out just asking for directions. He couldn't imagine sitting through fourteen agonizing hours of, "Lamentably: 'to die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub.'"

Bailey would rather his daughter and her girlfriends be intellectual enough to start a book club and read the classics. You know, Hemmingway, Rowling, King. Shakespeare wasn't bad either, but performed by an all-elcor cast? Come on!

Now, his son, Noah, was a different matter all together. Get the boy fishing and he was as happy as a clam. He could pluck fish out of the water the way those old writers could pluck words out of the air, didn't matter what body of water he was in. His boy could probably catch fish on the Presidium, and purportedly, there were none. When it came to fishing, he and Noah were on the same boat, pun intended. That, however, was where their similarities ended.

The divorce hadn't been amicable, to say the least. That and his absences while on the job hadn't helped to foster a great relationship between he and his children. He missed huge slices of their childhood, was hardly there as they entered puberty, and by the time they were both into their teenaged years, the gap between them was so huge it was nearly impossible to mend. He didn't know them, and they didn't know him.

"It's the job," he tried to explain them.

"It's always the job," had been their answer.

He was a horrible father. Bailey knew that and so did his kids. They didn't have to tell him. It was written all over their faces every time he went to visit. But he went.

Anyway…

Keuka Lake—that was their place, and even though Noah hated being around him, he loved being at Keuka Lake. They could get along for a little while and Bailey could attempt to tolerate his son's taste in music (all screaming and mindless techno-beats to Bailey), while they enjoyed the cool north air and the golden-orange beauty of fall leaves. Sometimes, when the sun hit just the right way, those golden hued leaves looked like they were on fire.

Bailey ran, and as he did, he tried not to imagine the sight of Keuka Lake destroyed. He tried not to allow his mind's eyes to picture those dozens of green acres populated by the glittering beauty that was the lake turned black as coal dust, or that blue lake turned red with blood. Nor would he let his mind wander to a place where his kids were in any harm. Noah might hate his guts, but he damn well listened when Bailey told him what might be coming. It wasn't common knowledge, nor was it something Bailey had discussed with Shepard when she asked, but through vids and extranet communiqués, Bailey and Noah had devised a plan to keep his mamma and his sister safe. Other than fishing, it was the only other thing they had ever worked on together and worked well.

They called it the bunker. Bailey had spent the money, every last dime of his retirement, on it. Installed underground, beneath the house and to his ex-wife's protest, not long after Shepard told him what was coming. He hadn't wanted to believe her. A part of him had wanted to believe her mind had been tweaked just a bit by Cerberus in order for her to believe in conspiracy theories that were as ancient as the asari—the Collectors, the Reapers—but he knew Commander Shepard was no flake. If she believed it, she had to have some sort of proof. Most importantly, he wasn't willing to let his kids' lives be the price he would pay afterward if he did nothing with the information and Shepard's warnings of invasion came true.

Well, it came true.

With the rest of Bailey's money, Noah had filled the bunker with enough non-perishable foods and MREs to last the three of them several years. At the time, he had thought it would be a reasonable amount of time for the galaxy to beat back the Reapers (…if they came…). Now, though, with system after system falling, systems as powerful and influential as Parnitha, Bailey wasn't so sure the supplies would last them, especially if they had taken in friends or his ex-in-laws.

He tried not to think of that either. He tried not to imagine the three of them huddled in there, hoping for the best, but terrified of the worst, but he did. He couldn't help himself. Other than trying to do his duty and rescue the council, his family had been the only thing on his mind. It didn't show, of course. Bailey would never let it show. He hadn't revealed his emotional terror to Shepard and he wasn't about to reveal it Aria or Bray. They would think him weak. But, thinking of his family hiding underground did give him an idea.

He ran. Not back the way they came, and certainly not in the direction of the school. There was nothing left there to save. Bailey had to concentrate on the council, and on his three-man team.

"This way!"

Bailey shot down a northern-facing side street. True north on the Citadel always pointed to the Tower and the Presidium, and that's where they were going. In this section of the ward, they were the only thing moving. Easy pickings, easy targets. It was time to get below, and Bailey found just wanted he was looking for.

In big cities like New York, concrete stairwells used to lead downward toward subway stations. People used to ride what were called "cars" back in the day. Today, traveling from one end of the city to the other had become far more streamlined and the subway system had been discontinued, but as a youngster, Bailey used to read about the old subways system and wish he could take the stairs to the underground places and explore the old system of tunnels.

No subway system existed on the Citadel, but there was a vast network of lift shafts that shot to all parts of Zakera Ward. Each ward had the same system, and many of them had changed or been altered over the years to suit new development. It wasn't the New York City subway system. It didn't even come close, but there was a system of travel very few knew about, and even fewer used.

Ahead, was an awning and a set of stairs that led downward. The cold, hard metal of the railing chilled Bailey's fingers when his hands grasped them, much they way the growling of approaching husks chilled his body. They were closing. He had to get his trio low, underground and out of sight. It was the only way.

The stairs, which descended a good ten feet, let out onto a dimly lighted pathway. The locals called it the pedway. One side of it overlooked the next level of the ward below (a semi-continuation of the buildings above—storerooms, warehousing), while the other was a tiled white wall loaded with advertisements for everything from nightclubs to lattes. The area reminded Bailey of the New York subway system simply because it felt old, used, worked, dirty. It wasn't, of course. Keepers maintained these areas just as they did every section of the Citadel and it glowed with garish white lights, but it brought back images in his mind of places he'd longed to explore as a child.

Nowadays, he wasn't so interested in roaming and exploring. He wanted to stay in one place. Yet, where did he find himself? Roaming, exploring, looking for a way to get themselves out of hell's way.

The pedway was a back alley, essentially, a way for people to get from point A to point B while avoiding the hustle and bustle of the streets above. Some even used the pedway for exercise, jogging for miles, because of the way it looped around the city, leading to different areas on the ground level. You could ostensibly travel the entirety of the Citadel upon these underground catwalks, but not today. The days of enjoying the Citadel in that manner were probably over.

Ahead! There it was!

Bailey picked up the pace only to have someone grab his armor and yank him backward.

"What the hell…?"

A husk, his mind told him. They'd already gotten the other two behind him and one now had ahold of him. Bailey brandished the blade. He would have used the gun but a quite kill was better than a loud one that might draw a thousand more like it. Twisting, he brought the blade around for the killing blow and missed Aria's face by inches. If her quick reflexes had not caught his wrist in a grip tight enough to nearly break the fragile bones within, he might have slid the blade right into the side of her tentacled head.

Her eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline but also with a heavy dose of resentment. "Watch where you point that thing!"

"I thought you were one of those husks, dammit! What are we stopping for?"

Aria pointed over the side of the pedway. "For that!"

On the warehousing level below, next to a burned out delivery truck (and an equally burned out body on the floor next to it) was a skycar. The passenger side was wide open and flickering lights inside revealed that it was operable. Aria obviously wanted to use it as their getaway.

Bailey shook his head and jogged the few feet to the spot he'd been searching for all along. "What?" he called over his shoulder. "And get our asses shot out of the sky again? I don't think so."

Aria followed him. "Not if we stay off the surface. We keep to the skyways inside the Citadel. The quicker we get to the Council, the quicker we can get out of here!"

"Negative," Bailey said, and tapped a code into his omni-tool. A ledge began to extend from the side of the platform. As it extended, it dropped and began separating into the steps of a stairwell.

Aria never paid it any mind. Her anger blistered. "Don't talk to me as if I were one of your officers! Who the hell did you put in charge?"

Bailey turned to her, but only briefly. "For the next few minutes, I'm in charge," he said and began descending the stairs to the level below before they'd even finished unfolding to the ground. He threw back over his shoulder, "I have a plan that will get us there just as fast without having to dodge bullets and—"

Bray shot past Aria and then Bailey, down the stairs that shook with both of their weight. "You two argue later!"

Bray didn't have to point or alert them in any other way. They both looked back the way they had come. Common sense told them they would see the husks they had been outrunning keeping pace with them, following them down the stairwell to this level, but their minds had manufactured an image of them jogging, perhaps by twos or threes, in a large and ugly group. What they saw warped whatever image they might have once had of husks.

The husks weren't just coming down the stairwell, they were pouring out like insects from a hole in a tree. Some on the stairs, some clinging to the railings, crawling along the walls and the ceiling. Hundreds of them!

Neither Bailey nor Aria waited for an imperative shout to RUN!, they simply followed Bray down the retractable set of stairs and down to the warehousing level. Husks were advancing upon them out of the corners of their eyes. On the ceilings above them, on the walls around them. Several were crawling down the stairs like bugs after a meal. Bailey keyed a code and the stairs began to retract. Husks nearing the end had their fingers and toes squashed. They hung onto the collapsing stairs and their mates the way ants cling to each other in a puddle of water.

Bailey took point, ignoring what advanced in his peripheral vision. He kept his focus on the sight ahead of him and it wasn't the skycar. He passed it without it even looking. They would never have had the time to escape in it. Husks would have advanced before they had the time to take off. They would have broken windows, gotten inside, and ripped them to pieces. This way, they had a chance. A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.

Ahead, looming like a heavenly point of light was a lift.

One of the orders Bailey had transmitted to all officers, before streaming a video to the citizens of the Citadel, was to lock down the lifts to keep Reaper troops from advancing too quickly through the station. Just as they should be, the lift doors were sealed. A given, even in their dire situation, but a given easy to override at his command. He tapped the omni-tool, sending his code over the airwaves, a closing gap of perhaps five yards, even as the corners of his vision grew darker. Husks were advancing toward the lift almost as fast as they were. It was as if they could read minds or deduce intent, and maybe they could. Bailey didn't care. He cared only about moving his feet, closing the gap…

Ten feet…a painful stitch bloomed in his side…eight feet…the doors had begun to slide open, a sliver of light glowing from inside…six feet…one husk tried to get in, but an invisible force pulled it away from the opening and it flitted into the air like a feather…four feet…an ear-shattering retort of gunfire at his left…three feet…a blue explosion at his right, husks flying…two feet…doors fully open, waiting for them but filling with husks…one foot and then…

…Bailey skidded inside the lift, husks or no husks. Aria, practically flying into the lift, gave a cry greater than the growl of their adversaries. With Bray in, the doors hissed shut, and then the real battle to live or to kill began. This was life or death and in the next few seconds, they would either live or die. Time to find out which one was going to happen.

They came face to face with husks too many to number. Not because their numbers were so great, but because there was no time to count them. Aria's blade met the first husk between the eyes and the second in the temple powerfully enough to sink the blade a centimeter or more into the wall on the other side. Powerful she may be, but invincible she was not. A hot poker of pain streaked across her shoulder blade. Husk nails. Wishing now she hadn't been so hasty to discard her jacket, Aria reached behind her just as the husk leaned in for the kill, its black teeth gleaming in the harsh lift light, and crushed its skull with a biotic pulse. Behind her, a husk gave a throaty scream. Aria twisted around, not nearly ready for the next attack, but ready to go down fighting…when Bailey's blade drove deep into the husk's open mouth. It gurgled, glowing eyes rolling back into its head, and then it dropped. Bailey and Aria's eyes met for a millisecond, and the fight resumed. Bray's blade buried itself to the hilt into another husk's head. He had hoped it was to be the last one he'd ever hear when a keening groan sounded above him. He looked up and there was another one, stuck to the ceiling of the lift like a Khar'shanian arachnid waiting to pounce, its long nails embedded into the metallic surface. Bray didn't give it a chance. He drew his pistol and fired.

The sound rang inside the lift like a portentous death knell, but this time, and for once, the portent was a good one. They were the only ones left alive inside the lift to cover their ears. The husks were all dead, even the one clinging to the ceiling. Its body went limp the second the bullet breached its skull, the contents thereof splattering at Bray's feet. He pulled it down with a growl of his own and smashed its skull with a heavy foot for good measure.

"Dirty bastards!" He looked at the other two, wincing as the shot rang in their ears, and frowned. "Sorry."

Catching his breath, Bailey stepped over a husk and inquired of Aria. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll live," she grimaced.

Bailey ignored her. He had time to inspect the three deep gouges that ran from the meaty top of her shoulder down over her shoulder blade and to see blood leaking in purple runners down her back before Aria twisted out of his grip.

Batting his hands away from her skin, she hissed, "I said I'll live. It's just a scratch." She paused to administer her own medi-gel, and added, "Now what?"

Her reaction surprised him, but he didn't resent it. She wasn't angry with him. She was angry at the pain, angry for allowing one to get the best of her. So, Bailey backed away, let Aria have her space, and consulted his omni-tool.

"I've ordered all lifts on lockdown to hinder the headway the Reapers have gained, to slow them down…so, we're not taking any rides to the Presidium, if that's what either of you were thinking."

"Great," Bray said. "And here I thought the rest of the trip was going to be a breeze."

Aria shot him second a sideways glance. "He's exaggerating…painfully…but I'm with Bray. If the lift is not going to move, what the hell are we doing in here?"

Bailey looked at the ceiling where the husk had been hanging like a spider. "We're going up. Bray, give Aria a boost, won't you? We need to get that hatch open."

Aria sighed and looked down her nose at the annoying human. She could have questioned Bailey, asked where the hell they were going, but what was the point. They were now out of harm's way. However annoying he might be, he had saved her ass again. Not only in the brig, but from the very beginning. If he hadn't told her what was coming while she lounged in the nightclub, she might not have been prepared. (Of course, Aria T'Loak was prepared for anything, but no one is ever really prepared for a Reaper invasion. That was just impossible.) She might not be alive to ponder what it was about him that truly annoyed her.

Nor was she read to ponder it just yet. Husks still clawed and moaned on the other side of the lift doors. Before long, they'd find away in. The three of them needed to get moving to wherever the hell Bailey had in mind. So, when Bray knelt and cupped his hands for her booted foot, she didn't argue.

EEE

They went up only to go farther down.

With a ladder that descended into a gap between the wall and the lift, Bailey led them deep into the heart of the Citadel. The going was slow and arduous for three exhausted people, but for all the curses Aria threw Bailey's way, she held no doubts he knew what he was doing. Bray doubted, of course. He displayed his doubt with all four of his eyes and with every word that came from his mouth, but he followed wherever Aria went, did whatever Aria said. Just as she expected from her second, and yet she almost wished he would disobey her. She wished he would tell her what a horrible idea this is as they slinked deeper and deeper into this claustrophobic hell, toward an inevitability that proved surer as the seconds ticked by.

They were not going to make it off the Citadel. No matter how hard they fought, no matter what miracles they were able to pull off to get to the Council. Something was going to stop them. She felt it in her bones, just like she had in the past, when Petrovski's ship, the Elbrus, arrived to halt the Adjutant takeover of Omega. They appeared just in the nick of time to destroy the transports the Adjutants had arrived in. She knew then something was wrong, something didn't feel right, but she had allowed the Illusive Man to soothe her conscience and stroke her ego.

Nothing, in her experience, ever went smoothly or to plan. Truth and goodwill never triumphed, which is why she'd never put much stock in either. Yet, here she was, letting Bailey do exactly what the Illusive Man had. He stroked her ego and her conscience, put her charge, let her lead the mission to save the council if only to save herself. Damn him! And damn herself for letting him do it. Bailey wasn't the Illusive Man, though, and it was his only saving grace. She knew he had no other ulterior motive than trying to save the council and the people who lived on this station. She could admire him slightly for that, and so she followed his every whim. Partly because she didn't really have any other choice.

He led them down, down for what felt like miles until they reached a narrow opening along the wall of the lift tube. An airshaft, he'd said, that would lead them to an intricate web of tunnels, which would, in turn, lead them to the council. They took the tunnel one at a time, sliding in feet first, then turning around and crawling on hands and knees like infants into the dark.

What felt like hundreds of meters in (and likely was), Aria stopped to breathe and rest her knees. Leaning her back again the wall of the tunnel, she grimaced at Bailey and Bray huffing behind her. "How is this faster than a skycar?"

"Is this ever going to stop?" Bray growled. "My knees are killing me."

"Stop your bellyaching, both of you," Bailey said with a huff. He motioned her forward with a nod of his head. "Keep moving, Aria. There's an opening not ten meters ahead. We can break there."

Aria got back on her knees with a groan and started moving. "I think I liked it better when you called me T'Loak."

"I might find that funny if you'd bother to reciprocate."

"What? You mean you want me to call you Armando?"

"Armando?" Bray asked from behind and started laughing. "That's your birth name?" He said it again, sounding it out and attempting an accent he knew nothing about, which made him laugh harder, almost hysterically.

Given their situation, Bailey could hardly blame him. They needed the laughter, but not at his expense. He groaned, though not simply at Bray's amusement. He had thought telling Aria his personal name was a way to break the ice, let them work together more as a team than as opponents, but he'd wasted his time. She had already known it. He felt duped.

"I prefer to go by Owen, my middle name. How the hell did you find about that anyway?"

"I have my sources," Aria said with a grin. "It's important to keep dirt on my enemies."

"Enemies?"

"You're C-Sec. Automatic enemy."

"I'll try to remember that the next time I think about saving your life."

"Please do," she said, looking over her shoulder at him, and rolled her eyes. "And while you're at it, try not to stare at my ass."

"Considering its right in my face, that'll be difficult to do."

Behind them, Bray growled in frustration. "Why don't the two of you find a side tunnel, flog each other and get it over with?"

Aria stopped, looked over her shoulder, "What?"

"Oh…nothing."

Bailey had the last laugh.

True to his word, the tunnel eventually opened up onto a space the size of a small room. More knee-busting, back-breaking tunnels opened up to destinations unknown from each wall, and above was nothing more than an opening with a rapidly-moving fan sucking in debris from all corners, but cooling their sweaty bodies with a burst of air (those who had sweat glands, anyway). The best part, though, was the ceiling. Wide enough for all three of them to fit comfortably side by side, and high enough to stand to their full height and stretch their legs, which they each did with delight. A trio of moans and groans issued through the tunnels that, for anyone listening in, could have been mistaken for a Fornax video, or old people lamenting the woes of old age.

"Oh man, I'm too old for this shit," Bailey said.

"You and me both." Bray rested the palms of his hands on his knees, stretching his back. "If I have to crawl through one more tunnel, Bailey, I think I'll have to kill you."

"Go ahead. You'll be doing me a favor." He would have continued with the many ways he would rather die than keep going, but Aria punched him in the arm to silence him.

"Do you hear that?"

Bailey straightened up. "Hear what?"

"I do," Bray said, and every muscle that he'd relaxed instantly tightened again. He drew his pistol, aiming it at a small tunnel close to the ceiling. Bailey and Aria drew theirs a second after and waited. A paper or two drifted out of the opening, were sucked up by the fan above and then were gone, but the shuffling movement continued. Aria waited to see the ugly face of a husk, Bray imagined the hellacious glabrous things that had assaulted him and the other prisoners of cellblock D, things that had once been of his own kind, and Bailey hoped to see the green and crustaceous head of a keeper coming out of the tunnel.

But they were all wrong. Shuffling backwards, ass first, was the rounded end and two feet of a human male. The feet found sturdy footing on the rungs of a ladder and slowly descended. Bailey didn't recognize the back end, but he certainly recognized the face when the man turned, wide-eyed at the sight of three pistols aimed at his forehead.

"Mouse?"

EEE

Aria wouldn't have known this dark-skinned human from the next. All humans looked the same to her. Only a few of them stood out in her mind. Only a few of them had faces stamped into her psyche, faces she would never forget long after they had lived out their short lives. Faces like Grayson, Petrovsky, Commander Shepard. Those human faces were worth remembering, one for the sake of gratitude, and the others for revenge.

This one she did not know, nor did she think his face would linger long in her memory, but the same could not be said for Bailey. He greeted the younger man like a long lost son, bear hugging him with both arms. This wasn't a surprise to only Aria and Bray. Mouse seemed equally as baffled.

"Uh…Commander Bailey," he said, peering over Bailey's shoulder at the asari and batarian with unfriendly faces. "You…uh…you okay?"

Bailey broke from him. "I'm fine. We're all fine, I'm just happy as a red sand addict with a fresh high to see a familiar face. I'd ask what the hell you're doing down here, but I can guess. Are you alone?"

Mouse looked cautiously at the other two.

"They're not Reapers, son," Bailey said. "They're here to help. Now, talk to me."

"Yeah, okay," Mouse said with a nod. "I'm not alone. I'm with Kelham."

"Elias Kelham?" Bailey did not greet that name with as much happiness.

"Yeah. At first, it was just to get safe, you know. He was hoping to ride it out for a while, then maybe sneak to the docks, find a way to get off the Citadel."

"Ha!" Bray said.

"Go on, Mouse."

"I told him it was pointless, that the station was moving too fast to attempt escape, but he didn't want to listen to me. I couldn't just sit around knowing there were people up there dying. So, I started going to the surfacing, finding people that needed help and bringing them down here."

"Oh, I bet Kelham loved you for that."

"He wasn't too happy, and he would have killed me if it weren't for the drell."

"Drell?"

"Yeah, you know, Krios's son. Kolyat."

Bailey's eyes widened. "Kolyat's alive?"

"Yeah, he's good. He's been helping me."

"Thank God. Where is he? Take me there."

Up until this point, Aria had been tolerant of the conversation only because she was exhausted and every muscle in her body ached. She needed the break (she needed another tall glass of water even more), but the minute Bailey demanded to be taken to some drell, holding her tongue was suddenly not an option.

"Bailey." When he turned to her, she added one word. "No."

"Aria, we have to—"

"What we have to do is get to the council. That's our mission. That's why I'm here, risking my goddamn life, remember?"

Yes, he knew. He knew very well, and he would have said so. He would have told her why finding Kolyat was important. Ever since the Cerberus coup and the incident with Kai Leng, which took the life of the young drell's father, Kolyat had something of a connection to one particular council member. Valern, the salarian councilor. If it hadn't been for Kolyat's father, Thane Krios, Valern would be dead today, at the hands of Kai Leng. If anyone could take them straight to the council, it would be Kolyat. But Mouse never gave Bailey the chance to speak in his defense.

"The council?" Mouse said, directing his question to Aria, albeit hesitantly. "You're trying to save the council?"

"That's the plan."

"Well, you might want to rethink that." As soon as he saw the change in their expressions, he lowered his head.

Aria dropped her defiantly crossed arms and stepped toward the young man. "What? What are you talking about?"

"What happened, Mouse?" Bailey asked, his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Kolyat's the one who told me," Mouse answered, his gaze on Bailey. "Reapers attacked the tower first. That's where the council was. He tried to get to them, he said. He tried to save them, but by the time he got there, the Tower was overrun."

Aria had not experienced a sudden sensation of vertigo for some time, not since she found Liselle dead, throat cut, and Paul Grayson's bed the sponge that soaked up her daughter's blood. This moment was much the same. The room spun like the shadow upon a sundial, slow and methodical. A pang of loss, not nearly as significant as Liselle's, enveloped her, but its ache was no less potent.

Tevos, ever the voice of reason, had over the years been Aria's red sand, Aria's addiction, one she never fully rehabilitated from. There had been others since their departure. Nyreen, for example, as well as a string of other lovers, but no one had ever been able to top what she felt for Tevos. It was part of the reason Aria kept her distance (she didn't need the distraction or mental clouding of one as seductively moral as she), and why she hated the Citadel (its lure and her desire for political clout—Tevos would have called it 'political advancement'—was what drove them apart). And maybe Tevos was the reason she came here, despite her hatred for the place. She had been kidding herself to think she could oversee Omega's reconstruction from the Citadel. Even Bray and Grizz hadn't understood it, but they followed, they didn't question. Aria did now, and maybe Tevos was the answer. With all that was going on in the galaxy, this was the only place to be. She was supposed to keep Tevos safe, and if the human rodent were true, she had just wasted every second of her time on this forsaken station.

Aria barely heard Mouse when he continued speaking. "If you're trying to get to the Tower, I wouldn't bother. You'd never make it."

"Aria, you okay?"

Bailey tried to touch her arm, consoler her. She slapped his hand away. Consolation was the last thing she needed. What she needed was something to shoot. Bray knew that. He kept his distance. Bailey, on the other hand, didn't know her at all.

Bailey sighed. "Are you sure about this?"

"It's what Kolyat told me."

"You said he tried, that the Tower was overrun, but did he see them?"

Aria latched onto Bailey's words like a life raft in rough seas. Yes, Bailey didn't know her at all, but he knew the Citadel, he knew the council. What good is a council if they didn't have a system designed to keep them safe, even in dire circumstances? They would have an emergency exit.

"Look, Bailey, I don't know," Mouse answered. "You'd have to ask Kolyat."

Aria turned on the boy, grabbed his lapels. He whimpered. She ignored it. "Take us to this Kolyat. Take us now!"

EEE

The Citadel was designed to be a haven from the rest of the galaxy. Out there, people had a greater chance of dying, getting sick or becoming an addict or, worse yet, a slave. The galaxy could be a dangerous place, but the Citadel was different. It was home to a lot of people from all walks of life. Sure, it has its shady characters, it dealers and addicts, and people did from time to time die. It's what people do, untimely or not. It would be impossible to keep out all the unwanted aspects of the galaxy. They seemed to worm their way in no matter how hard you try to keep them out. Still, the Citadel had always been a haven from the worst of what the galaxy had to offer. Like war.

Within the last several years, however, that sentiment had begun to prove untrue.

In that time, Commander Shepard had come to the Citadel, talking of the end of all life in the galaxy and speaking a name that most had forgotten (or had only ever heard in passing as part of some ancient institution which had long since gone the way of the protheans)—Reapers. Her defiance of the Council read like an omen. Even her saving of the Council, on more than one occasion, was a portent of worse times to come. Sovereign, the geth, Cerberus; the Citadel had been under constant attack. It seemed the haven had begun to lose its power.

And then the war started. Shepard's threat had come true. The Reapers were here. Planet after planet began to fall. Yet, where did the refugees flee? The Citadel, the haven of the galaxy. They came in droves until the four long arms of their mother could no longer hold them all. But for most who lived upon the Citadel, the war was on the outside, something you shook your head at when watching news vids. You expressed your disdain for the horrors happening elsewhere, you talked about it at every opportunity with your family or your coworkers, and then you went about your life or back to work. And, while you secretly prayed those horrors would remain in that otherworldly domain of "elsewhere," you felt secure on the Citadel. How could you not? Citadel forces had repelled both a geth and a Cerberus insurgence. The Citadel, your haven, your mother would protect you from whatever the galaxy had to throw at you.

Some hours ago, that sense of security on the Citadel had fled like the first few people who were lucky enough to see the Reapers coming before the real attack began. They fled into homes or safe rooms. Some went to ground, seeking the refuge of air ducts and tunnels long before Chorban and Jahleed thought of it. Still others had the good sense, and the luck of timing, to board their vessels and flee.

Not all were so fortunate. One such person was just stepping out onto his balcony at the top of one of Kithoi Wards' tallest buildings when the first wave of the Reaper attack began. He owned the building himself. In fact, this man, a human, owned millions of credits worth of Citadel real estate across all four wards. He loved his possessions the way most people loved their family or their pets. As he stepped out onto his balcony, regaling himself with the breadth of the property he owned in the ward below him, his wispy blonde-white hair blowing in the Citadel's soft breeze, he spied an odd shape moving with rapidity along the length of the Ward. His eyes weren't so good anymore. (He'd been tempted more than once to get ocular implants but he refused to augment himself with anything less than human parts.) Eyeglasses left behind on the nightstand, the man squinted the white rings of his eyelids (Damn the tanning glasses! Made him look like a raccoon!), and tried to make out the shape which at first looked round like a ball and then elongated like a cigar. That's when his raccoon eyes noticed there was more than one. One by one, the speeding shapes popped into being outside the arms of the Citadel and raced inward. It wasn't until the cigar-shaped thing opened its own arms, like the arms of a squid, that he realized what he was looking at. He'd seen the news vids. He'd been on the Citadel two years prior when one attached itself to the Presidium Tower.

Reapers! Reapers attacking the Citadel!

It was the million-credit businessman's last thought. A ball of fire, what he might have called a lava bomb were he on Earth, shot from the approaching Reaper and landed in his lap. He hardly had time to wonder what would become of his property. His penthouse apartment, the entire top two floors of his building went KA-BLEWEY! Bits and pieces of Mr. Raccoon Man still smoldered on Kithoi Ward—a hand at the foot of one of his buildings, a leg on the roof of another. His head? Well, the only thing left was singed piece of scalp. Wispy white-blonde hair, dotted with the color of crimson, was still blowing about in what remained of the Citadel's soft breeze.

Bailey knew none of that. Had seen none of that. He only knew what he saw when he exited the second in another long and tiresome tunnel with Aria and Bray close behind him. The people's sense of security, their unfailing belief that, come what may, the Citadel would protect them from whatever the galaxy had to throw at them, was gone, utterly obliterated just like the businessman's penthouse.

Mouse had led them to another, larger room. Here another fan swirled fresh air above them, but there was no amount of fresh air could cure the stench of fear and despair that had permeated the people within. There were mothers and fathers missing their children, children missing their parents, C-Sec officers missing limbs, criminals consoling decent citizens, strong men crying and weak men doling out orders.

Bailey had read of such sights when he was a youngster in school. Seen pictures of past conflicts—the Rachni wars, the Skilian Blitz, Earth's World War 3—seen the effect it had on the population, what it did to people, but never firsthand. The effect was humbling, terrifying, and enraging at the same time. Had he the time, he might have taken count. There had to be better than a hundred people in here, whispering quietly amongst themselves or silently enduring whatever pain had been inflicted upon them as the world above and everything they knew fell apart. The few C-Sec officers taking refuge here weren't giving him the opportunity to begin with. They latched onto him as soon as he exited the tunnel.

"Commander Bailey!" they called and Bailey responded.

Aria watched him go the officers, two turians and a human, but she made no move to follow. Her eyes skimmed the room, dominated by worn out and disoriented faces. Instead of marking these faces, as Bailey had, Aria marked the nearest exits should their situation take a sudden change. Their little place of refuge wouldn't last long. Even if the Reapers and their cohorts had moved on to fresher kills, they would return to this place. They would return as the husks had returned for them, seeking out whatever leftover life still waited for rescue, and when they found nothing above, they would begin to search deeper, and they would send their husks into the small places. Yes, the Reapers would find them, and then everyone here, down to the last child, would become a shredded corpse. It was only beginning to sink in just how easily such an attack could happen on Omega. She had to get back, if only to prepare her people for the final stand.

She heard Bray sigh longingly beside her. "Think we'll make it out of here?" he asked.

Her eyes on a crying asari child comforted in the arms of a haunted looking human female, Aria answered, "Whatever it takes, we're going back to Omega."

"If 'whatever' involves sacrificing this sad lot, I wouldn't do it, Aria."

She turned to him, frowning. He wasn't looking at her. "You did whatever it took to get out of the cell block alive."

Bray's gaze was upon a huddle of small children who had found refuge in each other. "That was different. I was in a prison cell, surrounded by grown men who had every bit a will and a reason to live as I did. I threw the weak ones at the beasts, and I broke the bones of the strong-willed who stood in my way. I even kicked one back who'd managed to follow me to the lift shaft."

"One of my men?"

When Bray finally looked at her, it was with eyes so hollow it chilled her. Only a flash of emotion existed behind those dark eyes, one that spoke of the horror he had witnessed, and in effect, helped to create. "What does it matter? They're all dead and I escaped. I ran like a coward…"

Aria opened her mouth to tell Bray he wasn't a coward, to tell him he was the bravest and most loyal of all her recruits, but he didn't give her the chance.

"…But I wouldn't do that here. Not to children, families. I'd defend them to my last breath."

"And what about your own family back on Omega?"

Bray gave her a smile that hid every one of his pointed teeth. It was the most genuine one she had ever seen him give. "Aria," he said, placating, almost laughing. "You don't even know my son's name. Let me worry about my family. You concentrate on getting us out of here."

If there were ever a moment for Aria to ask, to delve, to find out more about someone who had worked for her for years, this would have been it. She could have asked about his son, about his given name or the name of his woman, could have asked him what it was like to be a batarian in this day and age when batarians were so hated, and whether or not bringing a batarian child into this world had been planned or not. She thought Bray could almost see the questions trembling on the end of her lips, but in the end, she didn't speak them. She showed him her back, her indifference, as she had always done. She was, after all, Aria T'Loak…an asari commando with a plethora of special titles that really didn't mean anything in the long run. If this war played out the way she thought it would, she'd be just as dead as the rest of these tunnel rats before the end.

So, she turned, and came face to face with Bailey. He was toting another man who, on any other day, would have looked well-manicured and perfect in a three-piece suit and slick hair. Now, he was a tunnel rat like the rest of them. His suit was tattered and bloody. His hair was a fright, sticking up at odd angles. A patch on the side of his scalp had been singed clean away, showing white skin. To top it off his special ensemble, the man had the nerve to be indignant. Aria already had a good idea who he was before Bailey said his name. The question was what did Bailey want with him?

"Meet Elias Kelham," Bailey said, two armed officers and Mouse hovering in the background. "The Citadel's moronic version of Al Capone."

Kelham threw him an egregious look, growling, "Hey!", until Bailey delivered a smack to the back of his head.

"Who's Al-kap'pon?" Bray said, speaking the name in the only way he understood it, which was not 1930's Earth.

"Nevermind. Kelham, meet Aria T'Loak, the woman whose ship you tried to steal."

"A-Aria T'Loak?" Kelham croaked as Aria narrowed the rat in her field of vision and tilted her slightly to the right. That was never a good sign, but Kelham didn't know that.

"Yeah, you know Aria T'Loak, right?" Bailey continued. "Ruler of Omega, Pirate Queen of the Galaxy, and all that. That was her ship you found. Why don't you tell her about it?"

Aria's hand came to rest on the pistol at her waist. "Yes, please, tell me what you found."

Kelham, who had no weapon to speak of, drew his gaze to her hand, then back up to her two furious eyes. He had never met Aria T'Loak before, but, God help him, he had heard of her. "I—um—you're ship is in good shape," Kelham began in a gravelly voice. "Okay? Mouse found it. Not me." Behind him, Mouse frowned and shook his head. "I didn't know it was yours. We were just looking for a way off the station. Look, if I had known it was yours—"

Aria rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, stop your groveling."

"Groveling? Bitch, I don't gr—" Her pistol shot toward his forehead so fast, he hardly saw it coming. Kelham's back was against the wall, the cold end of the pistol resting against the flesh between his eyes, before he could finish speaking. He saw Bailey move out of reach and out of assistance. "Bailey, you son of a bitch! What do I pay you for?" The pistol applied enough pressure to make his eyes bug. "Okay, okay, okay! That's gonna leave a mark!"

"So will a bullet in your head. Which one would you rather?"

"All right, all right. What the hell do you want from me?"

"I want my ship. Where is it?"

"Where I found it." He pointed with his left hand toward an opening tall enough to walk through. "That way."

"So, you did find it. Why didn't you just take it?"

"Because your ship is surrounded."

The voice that spoke was just as gravely, but it was not Kelham's. Aria released the criminal mastermind wannabe and turned to see who had spoken, but Bailey identified him before she could.

"Kolyat!"

She turned in time to see him embrace a young drell whose eyes were as black as Bray's but with a silvery depth that spoke of having lived too much, experienced too much.

"By God, it's good to see you, Kolyat."

"You, as well, Commander Bailey. Are you well?"

She maddeningly waited for their pleasantries to end and passed the time listening behind her as Kelham tried to shuffle off, perhaps to take her ship again. He must not have noticed the well-armed batarian at her side. Behind her, Bray mumbled, "Move a muscle and I'll decorate the wall with your brains." Kelham groaned and Aria smiled. She could always count on Bray.

Aria interjected herself into Bailey and the drell's conversation. "What do you mean my ship is surrounded?"

The drell turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. Though as tattered and as disheveled as Kelham, he was nothing like Kelham. He didn't flinch under her stare. He didn't cower. Aria's brow knitted together. There was something familiar about him.

"Just that," he said, facing her and clasping his hands behind his back. "Your ship is under heavy guard. I saw it myself. Reaper ground troops have completely taken over the area. I suspect they are hoping to lay a trap for the council, if they happened to make it out of the Tower."

"Tell me what you know about the council. You were there. Tell me what happened," Aria demanded, taking a step forward, invading the drell's space, wanting to make him cringe like she had made Kelham cringe, but all he did was draw his reptilian brows together.

"You are concerned for the council?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Surprising, considering you spurned their offer just before the invasion began."

Inside, she thought, That was before. Before I realized why I was here. On the outside, her face twisted into an ugly rage and she grabbed the drell by his sharply angled yet tattered lapels. Bailey tried to push her away but she tossed his grip aside.

"Theirs was an offer of subservience, and I do not take orders. I give them. Now, tell me if she's alive!"

Kolyat never flinched, nor did he blink except for the involuntary movement of the nictitating membrane that flashed across his dark eyes. His frown, however, deepened.

"'She'? You mean Councilor Tevos. I wish I had an answer for you, but I do not."

He waited as Aria released him. He was not used to such bursts of emotion. His father's had been generally subdued as opposed to mother's, but he had not experienced her joy in many years. This woman's emotions were deep and full of fears she never expressed. In that way, she reminded him of his father. So, he continued…

"I was in the Tower when the invasion began, near council chambers, on my way to see Councilor Valern, but I did not make it in time. I barely made it out of the Tower alive myself."

"But they have an escape route, right?" Bailey asked, cautiously watching Aria. Kolyat had been through enough in his young life. He didn't need Aria bullying him. "The council had to have used it."

Kolyat nodded. "There is always the possibility. I, however, did not see them make use of it. Nor would I know where it is. I can only hope, which is why I suspect the presence around your ship has to do with the council. Perhaps the Reapers have not as of yet found them and they are guarding the ship in case they come for it."

"Sounds plausible."

Aria, who had not yet holstered her pistol, injected a live round in the barrel. Kelham groaned again, Bray threatened, and Aria said, "Sounds more than plausible. Let's go take back my ship."

"And get our asses shot without knowing where the council is first?" Bailey asked. "You must think I stepped off the dirt wagon yesterday."

"Finding the council will be easier once I have my ship back. We can coordinate and plan their extraction from there."

"And if we're attacked?"

Aria smirked. "Bailey, please…My ship has the firepower to withstand their assaults."

"Not against a Reaper it doesn't," Bray said behind her. She had no doubt his concentration remained upon Kelham, but he had ears, same as the rest of them. She just wished he had used what was between them instead and kept his thoughts to himself. Aria had only to look at Bailey to know her plan was a wash.

"We need to bring the council to the ship, Aria, not ship to the council," Bailey said. He didn't want to step on her toes again, and yet he was doing it anyway. Apologetically, at least.

"And how to you propose we do that when we don't know where the hell they are?"

Beside them, Kolyat cleared his throat. "If I may interject, I believe I may know someone who can help us. I just recently discovered them within the tunnels."

"Them?" Bailey asked.

"Yes. They have some rather unorthodox ideas, but ones that may play to our advantage."

"What ideas?"

But Kolyat did not offer an explanation. He merely disappeared into the crowd of despairing faces, but he was not gone long. Bailey and Aria hardly had time to continue their argument (though Aria gave it her best) when Kolyat returned with two people, a human and a salarian. Bailey wouldn't have known this salarian from any other, but the human…oh, he knew him. He'd run into this one more times than he cared to admit. The cringe creasing Bailey's brow didn't leave Aria with a good feeling.

"Oh no," Bailey said as he watched Kolyat lead the two through the throngs.

"What? Who are they?"

First impressions were good. He was well built, armed and all business. The salarian at his side, intelligent, resourceful. Even Bray seemed to approve. So, what was Bailey's problem?

"If this is Kolyat's idea of help, we're all doomed."

"Why?"

"That's Conrad Verner."

Aria shook her head. She had no idea who he was talking about.

"Shepard never told you about him?" Bailey answered his own question. "Hell, why would she? He's Shepard's number one fan. A regular Annie Wilkes, that one."

"Who's Ané-wul'ks?"

Bailey shook his head at Bray. "Didn't you guys read the classics? Jeez!"

Aria no more knew what Bailey was going on about than did Bray, but she could guess. Her frown at this approaching man told the tale. "He's a Shepard fan?"

Bailey groaned. "Not the only one, but surely the most annoying."

Kolyat approached. "Commander Bailey, this is Con—"

"Conrad Verner, I know."

Though he spoke with every ounce of contempt he could dredge up, Conrad seemed not to notice. He stuck out a hand, the smile on his goateed face big as life. "Commander Bailey? You know my name?"

"Shepard's told me about you." And that should have said it all, but instead it seemed to make the loon even happier.

"She's told me about you, too. It's an honor to meet you, sir." Conrad held out his hand and Bailey took it.

An honor? Okay, so maybe he wasn't all that bad, but the look on the salarian's face was a possible clue that everything Shepard had told him about the man had been true. The proof solidified when Verner turned his attention to the asari. She wasn't just any asari, as evidenced by the man's weakened knees. He put a hand on Kolyat's shoulder to steady himself. Even Kolyat seemed confused.

"Oh. My. God." Conrad pointed. "Y-You're Aria T'Loak."

Aria nodded, frowned and took a step backward. She could handle adjutants, the Illusive Man and maybe even take on a Reaper, but this was more than she was prepared to deal with.

"I know because of the markings on your face. Shepard has told me so much about you, too. Ruler of Omega, 'I am Omega. Boss, CEO, Queen if you're feeling dramatic. Don't…mess…with Aria!' Wow! What are you doing on the Citadel?"

"Bailey?" Though she would never admit it, that was a miniscule plea for help. If she could shoot him, she would, but she had a feeling it wouldn't go over well in this crowd.

"Kolyat?" Bailey asked. He didn't have to say more.

Kolyat nodded in understanding. He'd gone his own rounds with Conrad Verner when he'd found him in the tunnels. All he'd had to do was mention his surname and the man was overcome with awe. Though it clearly bothered the asari and the commander, it hadn't bothered Kolyat at all. If the surname was enough to leave someone awestruck, then that was a good thing, worthy of remembrance, as was his father, Thane Krios. Despite their differences, and his resentment of their years apart, Kolyat could not remember a time when the name Krios had not left himself awestruck.

Kolyat smiled, patted Conrad on the back and said, "You are in the company of greatness, to be sure."

"Yes, I am," Conrad said without deviation.

"But it is not this man that I bring to you for assistance, Commander Bailey." He indicated the salarian with a nod.

"He already knows who I am," the salarian said with disdain. "Though, I doubt he remembers my face. Chorban, Commander Bailey. My name is Chorban."

"Oh God," Bailey mumbled. "Not you, too."

"I warned you and the council that something like this would happen, but you refused to listen to me."

"I listened, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do with the information without causing a panic. You saw what happened when people started getting wind of what was coming," Bailey added with a sideways glance at Aria. "And all for what? None of us would have gotten off this station in time anyway."

"I would have," Aria said, returning Bailey's sideways glance. "If you hadn't stalled me."

"Chorban," came a voice clearly that of a volus. Sure enough, one sidled up beside the salarian. Strangely enough, a lone keeper followed behind the volus like a dog. "You left Keepie and I behind."

"I can't help it if the two of you are slow. And stop calling it Keepie. It's a keeper, not a pet!"

Gun still pointed at a disgruntled Kelham, Bray began to laugh. "This is getting more interesting by the second."

Bray's laughter was nails across a chalkboard to Aria. She had had enough. "Would someone please explain this freak show. Time is running short."

"Of course," the salarian said and stepped forward. "I guess I can learn to forgive and forget, given our situation. You say you need to find the council. I can do that for you."

Chorban powered his omni-tool, tapped a command and then turned to face the pliant keeper. As if someone had given a statue life, it went from standing still and practically lifeless to moving across the small space, moving aside anyone who didn't extract themselves from its way fast enough, until it met a wall. Then, its hands moved like mini streaks of lightening along seams in the wall that they could not see. Before they knew it, a panel had come free, dropping down like a miniature console, and a holographic vid screen appeared.

"What the—?" Bailey began, but never finished. He watched in awe, as great as that of Conrad Verner, as the keeper tapped at the vid screen with its pointed fingers, appearing to search through code the likes of which he had never seen. Then, as quickly as before, the vid screen went away, the console lifted back into place, the panel resealed and the keeper turned to face Chorban like a dog that had done a neat trick and now wanted its treat.

Chorban, however, paid the keeper little attention. He instead smiled down at his omni-tool and said, "The Council is as deep in the bowel of the station as we are, somewhere near the Embassies."

EEE

The explanations came in time they hardly had to spare. Awe wasn't the word to describe how they felt about Chorban and Jahleed's discovery. That they had the ability to communicate with the keepers was, for Bailey, shocking, and maybe even a little bit alarming. The two scientists had been breaking a serious Citadel law for God only knew how long. They claimed Shepard had helped them at one point in time, and if that were true, the idea was even more egregious because, of all the information Shepard had shared with him over the years, this news certainly wasn't one.

Frustration with being left out of the loop aside, this development proved to be a boon for their mission. They now knew approximately where the council was, and according to Chorban, the keeper had been able to extract the information without alerting Reaper forces to their location. He had "programmed" it, of all things, to mark Reaper signatures as "hostiles." And he claimed, if needs be, he could reprogram other keepers to do their bidding.

"Bidding" seemed a harsh word to Bailey. Sounded too much like slavery. To Aria, however, the salarian's idea of using keepers was genius. What they could accomplish with such a tool might see them through the mission and perhaps even off the station. With a little prodding, she was able to get the salarian to download her a version of his program onto her omni-tool. Problem was, one couldn't use it to summon a keeper. For it to work there needed to be a keeper nearby one could work with one on one. Didn't matter. The chances were good that they would come across one on the next step of their journey.

That next step was decided upon in another space of time they didn't have to spare. They needed to bring the council to Aria's ship, but Aria's ship was surrounded by Reaper ground troops based on Kolyat and Kelham's tales. That meant sending a contingent to take out the threat, while another group traveled to gather the council and see them safely through the tunnels. Aria saw no one fit for either job but herself, though try as she might over the years, she hadn't found a biotic technique that would allow her to be two places at once.

Aria would have to choose—her ship or Tevos.

All of them, including their lone keeper, huddled in one corner of the airshaft and discussed their options.

"So, who do we have that knows their way to Aria's ship?" Bailey counted out the options on his right hand. "Kelham, Kolyat and Mouse."

"But we're going to need firepower where we're going," Bray said. "Kolyat's our best bet. He knows how to use a weapon judging by the way he's packing, and he'll get us within a stone's throw without being observed."

"That's nice, Bray," Aria said. "But you're forgetting the fact that we're sending a salarian, a volus and their pet after the council."

Bray dismissed the two lesser species with a wave of his hand. "Those two couldn't fight their way out of a pyjack invasion."

"Exactly my point," Aria said before Chorban or Jahleed could defend themselves. "They'll need protection."

"And so will the council," Kolyat added.

"I'll have you know Chorban is quite skilled with a weapon," Jahleed said, a pointed prehensor in Bray's face, or as close as his stubby arm could reach.

"Hush, Jahleed," Chorban said. "The asari is incorrect…about the keeper, I mean. It is not a pet! However, we will need a protector, someone far more skilled with a gun than I. I can neural shock an opponent, but my abilities in that regard are not as honed as they should be."

"Honestly," Jahleed began on an intake of breath, "I doubt we'll need much protection in the way of weapons. Light, at most."

Chorban agreed with a nod. "True. The keeper will divert us if necessary, but it should take us straight to the council, and I've no doubt that it will help us to their safe room as well."

"We have worked well with Conrad, so far," Jahleed said, looking first at Conrad's shotgun, then up at the blonde-haired man who was smiling down at him. "He has protected us. Everything he knows, he's learned from Commander Shepard."

Bray rolled all four of his eyes. "Conrad is an idiot."

Conrad stepped forward, pointed a finger somewhere near the vicinity of the batarian (he knew better than to stab that finger in his chest unless he wanted the finger bitten off) and gave him is most indignant frown. "Hey, you'd best watch how you talk about me, lest it get back to Commander Shepard. You won't like her when she's angry."

"You humans are so gullible," Bray said with a disgusted shake of his head. "Shepard would throw you at a Reaper, boy, if she thought it would help her win the war."

Bailey gave Bray a gentle push and stepped between the two. "We don't have time for this. The situation being as it is, I think Jahleed's idea isn't half-bad. Conrad might be an idiot, but he's a capable idiot."

"That's right," Conrad said over Bailey's shoulder. "I'm a capable id—I mean I'm capable. I saved a mother and her daughter out there with this shotgun from one of those asari banshee things. I blew its eyes into the back of its head." But he would never, not in a million years, mention what happened to Jenna, or that he had his mental Shepard to thank for the kick in the ass that prompted his bravery. That was best left in his own head.

Jahleed stepped forward. "And the three of us helped rescue the last of those children at the school."

Bailey turned; his eyes alight with a twinge of hope. "You did?"

"You best your ass we did," Conrad said. "They're over there." He pointed a group of children huddling against the wall, the same ones Bray had noted earlier.

"Thank God."

"So, it's settled then." Aria nodded to Verner. "The idiot goes with the salarian, his boyfriend and their pet keeper."

Both Conrad and Chorban gave a series of frustrated exhalations followed by a couple more exclamations, which Jahleed summed up with, "Our relationship is purely professional in nature."

Aria ignored all three. "The rodent is a moot point—up for debate, but he's not particularly important. The toss up is Kolyat or Kelham." Aria gave Kolyat a once over. "The son of an assassin should know his way around a weapon, no doubt."

Kolyat raised his eyebrows. "You knew my father?"

"I'd never met him, or had the good fortune to make use of his services, but I have heard of him. Rumored to be the most skilled assassin in the galaxy. He played the game well, up close, clean. I have a feeling his son would be useful in an assault."

"Perhaps, but I am not my father."

"Kolyat's right," Bailey said, quick to squash Aria's idea. "His skills might be put to better use protecting the council. With a keeper as their guide, and Kolyat taking point, they'll have the council rescued before you can say 'husk.'"

Kolyat nodded. "And we'll take Mouse with us. In the event something happens to our keeper, Mouse will know how to direct us."

"Good deal."

Bray growled and jabbed the barrel of his pistol against Kelham's singed head. "That leaves us this one to lead us to the docks."

"He's not the ideal soldier to bring into battle. He'll probably piss his pants at the sight of a husk, but he knows where to go, so I guess he'll have to do."

"Bite my ass, Bailey," Kelham barked.

Bray jabbed the barrel into his head with more force. "I know how to make you comply, human scum. Don't test me."

Aria knew she wouldn't be leading the charge to rescue Tevos. Perhaps a part of her had always known. Since they had drifted apart, neither had lead any charge to rescue the other. Each had done their own rescuing over the years. When Sovereign had attacked the Citadel two years ago, Aria hadn't sent any urgent message to the Destiny Ascension. If Tevos had died that day, if Shepard had chosen to sacrifice the council for the sake of winning her fight against Sovereign, Aria would have gone on with her life. By the same token, Tevos sent no urgent messages to Aria when adjutants and Cerberus had invaded Omega.

Did it matter?

"Bailey's plan is good," she said, trying to not let the dejection show in voice. "The ship is mine. Bray knows how to pilot it. It's his baby. In his capable hands, with the three of us on weapons, and your group gathering the council, we can probably pull this off."

"If we can even make it off the station," Mouse spoke for the first time since he led them here. "Breaking free of the Citadel's FTL speed is going to be the hard part."

Bailey sighed at the reminder, but said, "Let's cross that ugly bridge when we come to it, all right?"

Aria nodded in the direction of the tunnel Kelham had directed them to. "Let's get this over with."

She was no stranger to species integration. She wouldn't balk at hiring any sort of merc, be he salarian, krogan or elcor. But the sight before her was something of a wonder. A salarian, a volus, an asari, a batarian, a drell, four humans and a keeper, a combination of some of the weakest and yet some of the strongest species their galaxy had to offer, all working together to save the council. She had never been a part of anything like this in her life, not even when she stood side by side with a human and turian against Cerberus. A part of her felt humbled…a very miniscule part, mind you, but the feeling was there. The rest she left to the weapons in their hands and the ones strapped to their backs.

EEE

Nine of them, and one insensate keeper, began the mission together, taking the tall tunnel single file and in no more hurry than their desire to get off the station before the Reapers completely took over…if they hadn't already. How could they know that in just a very short period of time, everything they thought they knew would be turned upside down on its head and distorted? How could they know that the very woman they had either praised, damned or emulated would be sharing space on the station with them, and staring down an evil more deadly than either of them had faced since the attack began?

At a point many meters into the tunnel, they came to a fork in the road. Two cramped tunnels shot into two different directions. Six of them went left, to the rescue, while four of them went right, to face battle and death.

---

If you haven't reviewed before, please do so. I love to hear from readers and get their take on what did or did not enjoy about the chapter. I have the next chapter read and edited, so I'll post it in a couple of days. Again, sorry for the long hiatus.