Chapter 14
The passage was long, low, and grimy, stacked with crates and junk, barely lit well enough to see the waiting figures at the far end. Dust hung still in the sluggish air. Ashley's gurney rattled over the metal grates behind them, Kasumi's anxiety pushing them all forward like a bow wave.
This corridor led to an airlock off the station. The only chance they would get. The tension in the streets was thickening; people were scurrying faster, furtive, trying to seal themselves behind locked doors. They knew instinctively something had changed; just not what. Not yet. Tali watched silently from a hovercar as it spiralled further into the bowels of the station, nudging through spaces only slightly wider than the vehicle until they could go no further. Then Anto led them on foot, down into a labyrinth of tunnels forgotten for so long they had no official name.
Only a few vorcha festered in this place.
The old visor she wore was scratched and misted up in patches; the smell of stale sweat clung to the helmet lining. This castoff exosuit was the only one Anto could find, and someone had likely died in it, but she tried to find the bright side. It made her invisible, walking down this lonely access corridor in the gloom.
Liara trudged in front, shoulders slumped, chains slithering between her ankles. A thick, dirty orange flight suit hung off her emaciated frame and the knobs of her spine jutted out beneath her crests.
The restraints sapped Liara's hope as much as they had exposed Tali's pride when Anto snapped them on. They were both in chains, but only one of them was a prisoner. Tali would not pass as a slave for any length of time; Liara would. Her quiescence was unnerving. She shuffled with her head slumped, enveloped in a pocket of her own hopelessness. She knew this was a just a transfer from one captivity to another, not a reprieve.
Still, Liara asked for no one's pity. She just shuffled forward, step after step, without a word.
Tali hated feeling so heartless. Hated this hot ache between her eyes.
Her own reputation was as the soft touch on the Council; she knew well what cover that had granted her to take tough decisions behind closed doors. Unavoidable decisions. But her famous mercy and openheartedness had the benefit – and the drawback - of being real.
I show more compassion to criminals. Is she any different?
She nearly laughed. Of course she was different. Liara was the sister she fought with on a dozen worlds, the one she comforted in the ruins of Earth. She had shown absolute faith in her; had searched for her, mourned her, and finally consigned her to memory more than twenty years ago. Since then her scales had thickened, her hair had thinned and disappeared, but Liara had not aged a single, solitary day.
Walking with her stirred up only bitterness.
Seeing Liara as a victim would be easy. Her crests were twisted at nauseating angles; a spray of blues and purples burst across her face, and a dressing was taped across one eye. Tali knew better. Her hidden hand was implicated in kidnappings, espionage, war. The Spartak bombings in ninety-four. The prison murder of Barla Von and the killing of Primarch Victus in oh-four. Other monstrous acts, known and unknown.
She missed her friend - quiet, kind, strong Liara - every day. It was easier to think she had died on Earth. But here she was, standing in front of her like a miracle from the void. Her eyes, her face, her body was the same. But what had returned was not Liara.
This was the Shadow Broker.
Anto's hand brushed against her arm. He was walking alongside her, his steps wary, cigarette pinched between his lips.
"You remember what we said." Taciturn.
Tali acknowledged him. "Of course. You can do the talking."
"He'll expect that. Even when you're aboard – keep up appearances. Stay quiet. Don't talk. These are good men, catechumens. But they're poor, and they're taking a risk. The three of you could be a temptation too far."
"Do they understand – us?"
"Not exactly. They think the Turing is an emancipation ship flying false colours. That you're regular cargo. They may suspect you're not exactly goods as advertised."
A tubby human in a dirty blue coverall, a turian, and an uncovered quarian - strapping and young - were loitering around the airlock at the end of the passage. The boy's presence made her twitchy. The suit was her only protection. If he grew up in the Perseus Veil, he could recognise her.
She wrenched her focus back to Anto.
"I had no idea about any of this. We could support you, you know. Get you resources, ships. Tech."
"No. Thank you, but dumping credits into the operation would blow what little cover we have left. League started attacking our supply routes a couple of years ago. Burned out a few safehouses."
"None of which I had anything to do with, before you ask." Kasumi's voice, shot from behind, was tight.
His mouth curled around the cigarette. "Never doubted it. We suspected someone was pulling strings. Or Aria thought the gangs would finish us off. Still. It's been a long time since we tried to clear three."
She couldn't keep the worry from her voice. "That won't be a problem, will it?"
"Could we turn back now if it was?" He took the butt between his fingers, flicked it. "The station's about to go to hell. That's why this will work."
The human looked at the others, then advanced, leaving his crew at the airlock. He was dishevelled, with wild black hair and several days' salt and pepper stubble, but his eyes were sharp. He stared at Tali like she was still dressed like a dignitary. Her skin prickled.
"This is Yarosh," Anto began, "Captain of the Gethsemane. He's made several runs like this before. He'll take good care of you." Tali couldn't care less, but this wasn't for her; it was for the human. All for show. She curtseyed stiffly, kept her eyes on the floor while Anto gestured to her, then Liara, and finally Ashley.
The human put one hand on his hip, rubbed the other over his stubbly jowls.
"Shit, Father. You didn't say one of them needed a stasis locker. Corpses mean a lot of paperwork."
"She doesn't. There's a full medbay aboard the ship you're meeting. No need for paperwork if you get her there. Fast."
"Balance cleared?"
Anto made a show of checking his omni. "Ten minutes ago. You drive a hard bargain. This is good merchandise."
"Yeah, well. We gotta make a turn. You know?"
Tali's gut tightened. If actual credits changed hands, it was possible she had misunderstood. She was glad nobody could see the strain on her face.
Yarosh was staring hard at Ash. He was interested in her necklace, the one nestled between the dog tags. He reached forward, scooped the cross onto the tips of his fingers, let it drop back into the hollow of her throat. Tali wanted to slap his grubby hands away.
"Cage fighter, you said? Looks pretty old for that game."
"Owner lost a bet and couldn't pay her med bills. Lost a ten round bout with a yahg. You've probably saw her in action in one of the pits around Maru."
"Yeah. She looks familiar." Yarosh turned to Liara. "These ones owned by the same boshtet?"
"That one's from Kima. Young asari, a bit slow, lashes out. Problems. This one –"Tali felt his hand on her back – "only arrived on Omega a few cycles ago. Escaped."
Tali looked up to see the human beckoning; the young quarian trotted forward. He smiled widely at Kasumi and took her place at the head of the gurney. Tali hoped nobody would notice her tensing like a pillar. Instead, he turned and raked his eyes down her suit.
"Where are you from, sister?" he asked, voice soft. He was a boy, really, gentle and handsome. Just a few years older than Idenna Traynor. She made herself look down, made her voice a whisper. Her answer came out coy.
Oh, hell.
She could feel the boy's eyes on her. Pilgrimage age, though the custom was almost extinct amongst her people on Rannoch. Hidden beneath the suit, he was drawing the same conclusions about her. He was curious, not suspicious, but that was still a problem. She tried to sink back behind Anto; Yarosh took the hint.
"Hey, Rafi. Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face and give the girl a break."
He pounded off with Ashley toward the ship. Tali exhaled. Yarosh peeled back an oily smile, took her and Liara by the shoulder.
"It's around half a cycle out to the hookup co-ordinates, and the Gethsemane is a sturdy little ship. She'll never win a race, but she could take a comet up the stern and live. Fitted out for the day job, y'see. Omega Rescue and Recovery."
Some R&R crews risked their lives to save vessels come to grief in the asteroid belt; most were pirates. Many took money, people or the ships themselves as payment. Yarosh had done that before. She could see it in his face. But Anto trusted him. She would have to trust him.
She turned on one heel. Before Yarosh could lead them away, she launched herself at Anto. Staying in role was only part of it; he had risked everything. He was about to risk everything again. He returned her embrace with one arm, holding the cigarette butt away from her filters. Next, she grasped Kasumi's hands awkwardly and squeezed. They were cold, even through her gloves; her face was drawn with worry.
"My family is in Varavi, on the southern continent. You are always welcome."
Kasumi softened, managed a thin half-smile. Once she had Kichirou, she would need a bolt hole. She would be hunted. Maybe Anto could smuggle her off station the same way.
"I'll look in on you some day," she said.
Liara stood off to the side, hands cuffed around her front. The goodbyes seemed to stir her. She nodded at Anto and Kasumi, but stayed silent.
Then they were being walked together into the Gethsemane, toward freedom, chains jangling between their feet.
The only difference aboard was a narrowing of the spaces, a constriction of the capillaries of the ship. They burrowed deep, through corridors clogged with cargo and possessions. The Gethsemane was a batarian mining vessel, its hull and innards patched, re-patched and carefully maintained, older than them all. Even Liara. Finally Yarosh showed them into the hollowed out interior of a cargo container. It was dry and warm, the creaks and sighs of the living ship talking all around. The language of old ships had been with her all her life. That was when Tali noticed: the churning fear in her belly simply wasn't there.
Stay alert. We're not out of danger. Not until we're out of Sahrabarik.
Rafi had parked Ash's gurney in one corner and was spreading a blanket across her. Yarosh rooted in his coveralls, pulled out a small metal strip, and released their bonds. Liara curled immediately onto a bunk nestled into the far end of the container, wrapping her arms around her knees.
"This is home for the next couple hours," Yarosh said. "We've already sealed the airlocks and cast off. You're safe here until we can get you to the Turing. No slaves here."
Rafi disappeared into the murk outside the container and returned with a tray, which he set down on a cargo crate. He was eager, eyes like moons.
"Nutrient paste," he said, pointing. "This stuff's reinforced with immunoboosters. Even found some Thessian bread for the asari. Not an import, but it looks good. Eezo rich." His face was smooth, like the surface of a stone, peering through her visor to glimpse her face. "I get that you probably don't want to demask. But if you change your mind, I've got some sweet hilwa and te'enah in my footlocker. You're welcome to them."
"Sure she is." Yarosh pushed his hair off his clammy forehead, then rubbed his hands on his overalls. "But your shift ain't over until after we drop these ladies. Scoot, Romeo."
Rafi was more relaxed here than on the station. He flicked a salute at Yarosh and exited, throwing Tali a glowing grin as he left.
"Sorry about him. Good kid. He's just looking for a good quarian girl. Folks wired him that way." Dark eyes flicked to Liara. Tali moved across his line of sight. He didn't look the type to take advantage, but better to be safe.
"He's fine. It's good to see a familiar face, actually. There aren't many quarians out here anymore."
He looked at her curiously. She sounded old. Careful.
Yarosh told her how to ping him, who to ask for more food and meds for Ash, then left. The heavy door clanged shut behind him. As soon as he left, she crossed to Ash. Tali found her hand under the blanket, squeezed it. Her chest rose and fell, steady and regular, but her pulse was shallow. Anto was not a miracle worker; Ashley's organs were failing, and her skin was turning a jaundiced yellow. Without a proper medbay soon, Ashley could die. And that would be her fault.
Her mind skipped to James. Her heart turned over like an engine.
When I'm back, I'll tell him. If this ever works out.
"What happens now?"
Liara's voice came, hushed, from where she was curled on the bunk. Tali picked up the tray and sat on the edge. Looking now, Tali wondered if she'd been too quick to dismiss her injuries. Ash was in bad shape but Liara wasn't exactly better. She sighed.
"We rendezvous with the Turing. It's close. We may see Samantha Traynor. She was on the Mariana when it blasted out of dock. As for the rest? I'm still deciding."
"I want to see Naya."
"And I can grant that request. For as long as I have access to you."
Tali let that sink in, watched Liara's face fall and then set hard. She hated herself in that moment. But Liara recovered fast.
"Where is she now?"
"Somewhere safe." She took her time ripping the seal on her nutrient paste. "With Miranda and Jack."
"It will be good for her to be with other children. She was becoming very curious about them. Is she -" Liara stopped, tried again, voice thick - "she is well? Is she happy?"
"Absolutely fine. Thriving, actually. Frankie Lawson can't shake off her little shadow. Secretly I think she likes the hero worship."
"Good." Liara sounded like it was anything but. She sounded crushed.
"They nearly died bringing her out, you know. Others did die. Like Grunt."
"I- I am sorry to hear that." Liara's face took on a pinched expression. The right reflexes were there; Tali just couldn't buy them. "What happened? I only detected one ship, three assassins, but-"
Tali ground her teeth. " Just your hyperactive security measures."
"Oh. A necessary precaution. For our protection. I am only sorry that they failed - all this could have been prevented if they had. Did Glyph go back with them?"
Tali looked away, back toward Ash, seeing Kaidan's blackened skin and the raw pinkness of the tissue beneath. "We deactivated your AI. The chassis was stripped for parts."
"Glyph's - dead? How could - why?" Liara was aghast. "He was incapable of causing harm - he literally did not have it in him. What happened?"
She ignored the question. "You should be thanking me right now. This way you won't be on the hook for a century of hard labour on a penal colony. Though with your record, that's the least of your problems. There's enough to keep you locked up for the rest of your life."
Liara's eyes locked onto hers, flat as a mirror.
"You wouldn't."
"No. You would be dead inside a year. Not much point in that. You're right, though. I wouldn't. Others will."
"I am useless to you if I am exposed. I would refuse to help you. And you will put Naya at risk."
"I know. Which is why you're still my best-kept secret. For now."
She watched realisation lighten Liara's face. Her mouth pulled into a diffident smile, just like the ones Tali remembered. It tugged on her heart.
"Thank you."
"Don't. Thank James. And Ashley. Miranda. Jack. Kaidan Vega and Bashir Lawson. They all risked their lives. All we need from you is a little cooperation in return."
Liara ripped into a hunk of bread with her fingers. "Then everything is yours. Databanks, operatives, resources. I am an open book. For you, at least."
"Hey. Remember what Anto said. Refeeding takes time. Don't eat too fast." Liara frowned, but she slowed down. "I already have your systems. It would take us years to understand everything like you do. That's why I need you."
"Of course." She chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "There are things I must show you. Share. We are on the brink of a war. I had hoped telling you would never be necessary. I tried to prevent it, but I failed."
Tali leaned back, breathed. Small names and initials were scratched into the metal wall around the bunk in a mixture of scripts; khelish, armali, others she didn't recognise. All simple victories of the present, unclouded by the past and future. For a moment, she wished her world could shrink to the safety of this one small room. Etching grateful initials into the wall. She looked down into her hands.
"The next war is always about to start, Liara. There are skirmishes in the Skyllian Verge every year. The Alliance blockade of Camala nearly turned into full-scale conflict. The Hierarchy has been annexing any dextro world they can settle for decades, and it's hard to blame them. Exile from your homeworld is soul-destroying."
Liara shook her head. Her eyes held Tali still. "That is not what I mean. Something much worse is coming. I was attacked because I intended to make known the truth."
"The truth of what? To who?"
"Rebel clans are about to launch an assault on Tuchanka. From there, a krogan horde will pour into the Terminus. The League will be mired in a lengthy and expensive war. It will be weakened, distracted. Too tantalising a chance for the Council to miss. You will attack. When you do, the Council will fall."
Silence hung in the air.
"Keelah se'lai, Liara." She pinched her own thighs to stop herself laughing; whether from fear or contempt, she couldn't tell. "You have been alone for too long. My questions were all about the volus ambassador's gambling habit. I see you like your theories wilder. "
Liara mouth pulled into a tight, self conscious smile. "There is evidence. I reached out to Aria and Tevos days before Sinchi was stormed. I was silenced."
Liara's calm infuriated her. Pointless anger bubbled up from deep in her belly; it had nowhere to go.
"I'm sorry, but you're wrong. The peace is protected by treaty. Only a unanimous Council vote can start a war - and I will never vote for one. Not in those conditions."
Tali shook her head. The air inside the compartment seemed to warp and sway. She had to be wrong. Had to be weaving lies again. Yet there was trouble at Aralakh even before James left, and she had been away from the Council for much too long. Liara hauled herself away from the bunk and hobbled over to the gurney, oblivious. She smoothed out Ashley's blanket, brushed her hair away from her face. Tali could almost believe she was concerned about her. Perhaps she thought she was, in her own way. Perhaps touching Ash's hair reminded her of Shepard.
When she turned around, smiling sadly, it was as if her old self had never left.
"You doubt me now. But you will believe. And I am glad it is you, Tali'Zorah. I am glad I am here with you."
Ison held a lamp in both hands, lighting the way ahead for them both. Up in front, Sedna found her way by the light of her hammer in the dark. They followed her through the building, up several flights of stairs and across a lobby coated with a layer of dust, sand and blocks of rubble. James steeled himself; then nudged him. They both peered up in unison, Ison's lamp slicing through the black, at a deathly maelstrom of chaos - sand and glass, rock and bodies. All swirled in a screeching, dark wall of wind.
Ison quickly dropped the torch back to the floor. Hearing without seeing was even worse. The bandolier was heavy around James' shoulders, grinding the rough krogan undershirt he was wearing the burned skin around his neck.
A grand staircase had once been suspended by cables from the ceiling; now it lay in jagged shards, like the carcass of a dinosaur. They climbed it with mounting urgency. Sedna powered herself onto a mezzanine, jutting impossibly out from the wall, then hoisted him and Ison up after her. She hefted his bulk effortlessly, bright and excited as they followed her through a pair of busted doors into an executive office. They were several floors up but the room felt like a basement. Cups of coffee stood half-full on desks beside stacks of abandoned papers. They were sheltered from the wind, but only just.
A familiar brushed steel disc lay in one corner, standby light still electric blue. It hurt to smile, but it didn't stop him.
First break we've caught all day.
Sedna shouldered the hammer and clapped Ison on the back. He clutched at a desk, torch beam wheeling in the air, before her exuberance could send him flying. She punched in an ID quickly: Wrex.
He had to say something. His burned skin puckered; he shivered.
"Hey. Hold it a second."
James' surroundings lapsed into darkness. Ison was no fool; he was moving away, taking the torch with him.
"I know this won't make me Mister Popularity, but we don't know how much juice is in that thing. We need to call the Damavand."
He might be right, and the superior officer, but Sedna would not want to believe him. Wrex was the reason she was still fighting, a screwed-up mix of father, mentor and mate. If James got in the way, well - krogan killed for less.
Now she was still as a pillar, claws poised over the controls. He drew up behind her, up close.
"Some cavalry we'll be when we get to the Ziggurat. No squad, me hurt, not even a Tomkah." Sedna just glared into the console. "You know I'm talking sense. Without a getaway ship, there's no rescue."
"The ship's out of range. It's on the wrong side of Boyar's flotilla," Sedna snapped. "We need to find a way off-planet ourselves."
"Captain Takesada can scramble more ships from the relay. Fighters, corvettes. Put more men dirtside. If we call this in we have a chance. If we don't, it will be Wrex doing the rescuing."
Sedna batted the idea away with a sweep of her claw. "That is impossible - and you know it. The Alliance will not save us. We are on our own. We cannot rely on a ship swooping out of the sky to save us."
"Funny. Thought that's exactly what you did."
She turned back to the comm, began to enter commands.
"And look where that got me."
His control was leaching away. She was probably right. But if he let this go, he let her go, let his leadership go, let everything go. She was headstrong and determined; if he was weak, she would head out on her own, and she would die; he would die; Wrex would die. The mission would fail.
He clenched every muscle in his torso, made his muscles into bands of iron; and he pushed himself between Sedna and the comm, blocking her with his body.
His head rushed; blood quicksilvered through his veins.
"Stand aside. That's an order."
All he saw were red-rimmed, furious eyes. Breaths broke in hot waves across his face.
"Now, Sedna."
He put a hand on her breastplate. Her surging biotics bit his hand. He tried again, painfully aware his injuries made him defenceless. There wouldn't be another Pesh.
"Listen. I came here myself because Wrex is my friend. No bisoños out of boot - no N7s. Me. I came here. We came back to get him together. And that's exactly what we're going to do."
He pushed lightly from the heel of his hand and his fingertips; Sedna rolled backward. The move was slight but he felt it, and so did she. The defiance that ignited the air in the room dissipated, as though a storm had passed over without breaking.
James released his breath slowly. She was in control of herself - though her snarl stayed fixed - and he had control of the situation. He still let another minute pass before he felt safe enough to turn to the console.
No response came from the Damavand. He tried the several times, faint cobalt wisps swimming through the air above the disc, but no-one appeared. Not even - even the thought froze his blood – Tarkan or Boyar. All he heard was the moaning of the world outside the room.
Ison tapped his arm.
"No expert. But QEC appears defective." His torchbeam lighted on a wall-mounted circuit box. It had been sprung; a fountain of small sparks burst from the inside.
"Suspect no extra-orbital capability. Local communications based on satellite, not quantum entanglement. May be operational. Could still work."
He fired the console again, fingers jabbing the interface harder than necessary. It was one thing to know that they were on their own; it was a different thing to feel it, balls to bones. The Damavand was impossible to reach.
An eternity passed, James trying and retrying everything he could think of, until he felt tears in the corner of his eyes. Hope eclipsed.
He was about to abandon the comm when blue lines danced into life. A leathery krogan appeared, thick crest gouged with deep clawmarks running into stripes down his face.
He had known the slow, basso voice half his life.
"Sedna. My girl. Knew the void couldn't claim you. Is that you?"
She stared fiercely into Wrex's face. The devotion James saw in her eyes changed her. She was a kid, Jane's age, and she loved him. Somehow knowing that made him feel closer to her, more protective. She planted both hands on the guard rail, leaned in.
"It's me." She was grinning, lips pulled back to reveal great, flat teeth. "I'm sheltering in the embassy district. With Admiral Vega."
"Vega? Good person to have with you in a tight corner. Humans are tougher than they look."
James found his voice. "Right back at you, jefe. What's your position?"
"Still holed up in the Ziggurat. Tarkan has us surrounded, but the shurga has him pinned. It's a horde of damn children - all half a million of them. Shipped from Dranek, Nith, Durapara, Svarga, Udyat like animals. But his shit-slinging pyjacks can't strike until the winds die back."
Wrex took his time looking him up and down. "You really don't look so good, Vega."
"Yeah. Long story. Important thing is we're planetside. Closing on your position."
"And we will extract you," Sedna added. "Or die trying."
He hid a smile behind his hand. She was so earnest. Wrex let out a heavy guffaw.
"Spoken like a true Urdnot. Well, you better tell me your grand plan. Then we'll know what chances any of us have at getting out of this smouldering pit."
Wrex watched him, reptilian.
"Honestly? Not good. We came down here in a prototype Alliance vessel. We got hit, crashed in Jemdet. Sedna and me were the only survivors."
"That was nearly a cycle ago," Sedna finished. "We've crossed the city on foot. We picked up a salarian along the way, a slave. Owned by a Warlord called Pesh."
"Hm. I knew a Pesh once, many years ago. From Clan Jorgal. Salty old varren. I'm surprised he survived this long." Wrex saw Ison standing transfixed, his once pristine silk suit caked in dust and blister fluids and human blood. Wrex nodded to him quietly.
"Sounds like I'm better off behind these thick walls than you are out there. Less likely to be murdered by kids, anyway. Have you at least found an escape ship?"
"Hoped we would find one on our way, but no dice." James shrugged. "Most ships that could go already did."
"Anyone would think you liked it easy." Wrex shifted from one foot to the other. "From where you're standing, Vega, this just keeps getting better. The embassy district is built on a plateau, running north to south. You can see the Ziggurat from the Thessian roof gardens on a good day. It levels out onto the Plain of Zarkhaiz. It's protected from the worst of the shurga. And that, friend, is where Tarkan is."
"You're saying there's half a million kids with guns between here and you?"
"Many will have been lost to the storm. Or killed by warriors loyal to Clan Urdnot. But the truth is you have a better chance of winning the Lucky-88 Lottery than crossing Zharkaiz in one piece."
Beside him, Sedna grunted and pushed off the comm. Wrex's eyes followed her until her virtual figure disappeared from his range. The relief that had flooded into James' body drained away in an instant, souring his insides.
Sedna wheeled, claws planted on her waist. "There has to be another way. We'll find it. Find a ship. Fly over the Zarkhaiz. Land on the Ziggurat -"
"You'd have to come in too low," Wrex said. "Anything you flew would be riddled with holes."
Ison had crept up to the comm like a shadow moving through the dark. Now he stared at Wrex like some mythical hero. He made himself small; he stuttered.
"The C-Catacombs, Lord, extend under Zarkhaiz. P-Pesh spent many years exploring them. Believed hidden tunnels stretched beyond plain. Sacred sites. Gateways to the underworld."
"He ever find one?"
Ison hesitated. "No. But c-could be the answer. Could move underneath."
"Tarkan will start shelling the Ziggurat soon. By the time you found one of those peepholes, I'd be maw meat. He won't take me alive." Wrex stilled, thinking. "But you gave me another idea. One you're going to like even less."
Sedna returned to the comm, stood next to Ison. Hope pinched her face. Both their faces.
"Aria T'Loak has an underground complex north of here. The Talons use the catacombs to store their merchandise - mostly red sand for sale in the city. The kickbacks paid for Urdnot City's school systems, before you ask."
"Hey. I ain't judging," James replied. "Tough doesn't begin to describe life around here."
"There's a hundred million credits of contraband in that complex and the tunnels, easy. There'll be mercs, gunships, shuttles. That's our escape route. As soon as the shurga lifts."
The three were silent. The air thickened; to start with James didn't understand why.
"We can't get there," Sedna breathed. "You can, but we can't. Not from here."
"Tarkan's head belongs on a spike. Someone needs to do it. Wish it could be me, but I need to get to Omega. Talk to Aria."
James rolled his shoulders, the echoing space of Timna's empty warehouse dark behind his eyes. "Can't we sit tight? Wait for you to pick us up?"
Sedna shook her head. "You'd have to come in too low. Anything you flew would be riddled with holes."
"Exactly," Wrex added. "This is our last shot, Vega. Get over here by sunrise, while the shurga rages and Tarkan's pyjacks nest on the plain. I'll wait for as long as I can. And Sedna?"
She leaned forward, starry-eyed.
"I am your Battlemaster. My word is your law. Trust Vega. Trust yourself. When this is over, you will be a member of Clan Urdnot. This is your Rite."
"Korbal," she breathed. Her claws gripped the pommel of the dagger at her side.
His grin was petrifying. "Get out of there. And get back to me."
Sam rolled over on Ashley's bed with her eyes shut, waiting. Morning watch was coming, but sleep wouldn't. The lights were dimmed, leaving just the glow of the amour locker shining like a nightlight in the corner, but she had lain in the darkness now for hours, mind wandering, stuck on a loop in her mind. Denny. Tali. Liara. Naya. Liara. Amon Ortega. Ashley. Sinchi. Aria. Liara. Rannoch. Prorsus.
Prorsus. The Lieutenant hadn't contacted her for more than a full watch. He didn't acknowledge her hails. They discovered the Turing gone almost a solar day ago and since then she had been cut off. She was eating MREs from a crate stowed beneath Ash's bed and drinking from the sink in her bathroom.
These quarters might as well be the brig.
She fired off a message to Prorsus a few hours in. They had to stay here. He had, for now. No way to know how long that would last. Presumably as long as his patience. A few more hours? A few days? And then what? Would he leave the system, call for help? Would he throw himself at Omega again? Had he dispatched a shuttle to extract them? Would he be so stupid as to give away his own position?
Sam's stomach knotted, coiled, relaxed. Over and over. Her gut rolled with worry, with guilt, like seasickness.
She could pull up hull cameras; the same black rock blocked half the visual, while the lower half was an infinite carpet of stars and asteroids, Omega's red corona a thumbnail in the distance. Earlier, she had punched into the Mariana's long range scanners. She couldn't work them remotely, knew she'd be blocked if she even tried, but the crew were watching traffic around the station avidly. A cloud of little boats plumed out first – shuttles, personal vessels, charter ships. Bigger freighters and yachts were next, and finally high tonnage transports and freighters. Not enough to shout panic, but enough to prompt speculation. Something was happening, or about to happen, and they had heard exactly nothing from Ashley and Tali. People who could were beginning to get the hell out of dodge. It was the beginning of an exodus. Bands of darkness clenched around her heart. Her nails were chewed down to stubs.
Tali's quick-witted. Diplomatic. And Ash can handle herself. She shut her mind against the likelihood Ash was already dead. She ate her way through her food stockpile instead. Perhaps she was wrong to challenge Prorsus. Perhaps the window of opportunity had passed to save them. Aria could have them right now. She might keep Liara and hold Tali to ransom.
Does Prorsus trust me at all?
She kicked out in frustration, pushed off the bed. Sleeping in it had felt wrong; she had rested on top instead. She had to talk to him; had to get out of here. She flipped the switch on the comm. Again. Again. Again. Nothing. She was blocked.
She flicked on the hull cameras.
Gasped.
A barrel-like, ugly freighter was hanging close to the belly of the ship, blocking out the stars. It had been gouged and pitted by countless asteroid impacts. Scans showed several life signs aboard, several species. Only one asari - moving through the airlock.
It had to be them. Just had to be.
The letters on the side, tarnished and half-scrubbed out, read Gethsemane.
Enough was enough. Sam whipped around, marched to Ash's gun bench, and retrieved her tool belt. Then she set on the control panel. If Prorsus wouldn't listen, then she would make him. She would start by overriding the door.
The doors ground apart with a wet crunch. Sam wedged her shoulder into the gap, pushed until there was enough space to squeeze her body through. This time, she took the stairs, skipping down on the balls of her feet, whirling around the bends, flying on nerves. Her eyes flicked to the lights above the elevator at each landing. It started at the CIC, headed lower. She slammed the doors opening onto the crew deck harder than she intended, running headlong into a knot of marines, shaken up like angry bees. They were rubbernecking a safe distance from some commotion flaring outside the medbay, but she was too short to see what; Sam elbowed through until she had put the throng at the elevator behind her.
A security detail had a dishevelled looking man in a headlock. His arms pinwheeled for purchase. A stranger; not from this ship. Another turian, no markings, stood reedlike to one side with his hands held behind him. Beyond them, Prorsus and a uniformed asari surrounded a suited quarian. Sam had never seen the suit before, but her insides flipped; she recognised that poise, that walk.
What the hell?
Tali stalked through the medbay doors, proud and alone. They clamped shut abruptly. Prorsus keyed in a code on the door and the controls switched from green to red.
She muscled forward, calling out to him.
"I'm sorry, but - what's happening here? You know that's Councillor Tali'Zorah, right?"
Prorsus' eyes flickered from worried to angry when he realised what she'd witnessed. He beckoned two more of his goons forward; she stood, ramrod straight and indignant. They came close, but her furious face held them at bay.
"Not all species are as bad as humans at telling other individuals apart, Ms Traynor."
"Then you won't mind me asking why you have locked your Commander in Chief – well, one of them, anyway – in your medbay?"
"None of your business. Go back to your cabin." The look he shot at the security detail surrounding her said before I make you.
Sam sighed for the benefit of her audience. "You know I'll patch through to the medbay as soon as I'm back up there. You know TraynorTech designed half the systems on this ship. I can make life very difficult for you, Major." She was only a few feet from his carapace; she glared straight up into his face. "You don't want that."
The threat felt childish even while she was making it; he glowered back down at her with undisguised hatred. This wasn't the first time he had lost face to her, and Prorsus was the type to hold a grudge. She had a couple of seconds – tops – before she was forcibly ejected from the deck. She tried again.
"Is the Councillor in quarantine?" No response. "Has she been accused of a crime?" Prorsus twitched; the barest flaring of the mandibles. Her voice jumped an octave.
"What? She's a hero. What possible crime could she possibly be accused of?"
"The same one as you are, Ms Traynor." She went numb; Prorsus seemed to feed off her dismay. "We know what you were up to on the Turing. You concealed a valuable intelligence asset from the Council. Captain Gennady has already turned in the archives you were hiding."
Sam's mouth was parched. "We weren't hiding anything. We only just reassembled the systems –"
"Save your breath. Tell it to someone who cares. Tell your lawyer. If your pockets run that deep, the Councillor will need a good one too." He was really enjoying this. "Tali'Zorah's impeachment is going to be a big galactic deal."
As ever, I am very grateful to HugoCogs and Owelpost for their encouragement and concrit with this chapter, which has made it much better than it started out. Sorry for taking so long with this one – it needed a lot of finessing to make it remotely palatable. Thanks for sticking with this – as always, I love to hear what people think! And to the lovely Guest who left a review – I hope this makes up for the lack of updates for the past couple weeks!