Togusa, Batou, Borma and Garrus didn't exchange a word as the elevator began to carry them back upwards, through the big central Zenit Rotunda, the cable-suspended work islands, offices and walkways, past the Lobby with its big reception desk and crystal chandelier, and through the levels of the various departments.

With his ARO now fully linked into Section 9' network, some AI was piping entoptic overlays into his vision, informing him where various departments were located. It also revealed more about the "Working Cluster" system the transhuman organisation seemed to use; "Iris" was one of over four dozen Work Clusters, apparently fluidly formed from groups from various departments to make flexible teams for one specific case, bringing together whomever worked the case in the field with the various investigate departments.

To Garrus, the system sounded overly complex; prone to conflict between departments, and requiring a massive degree of moment-to-moment, task-to-task coordination. Sooo… they're probably using another AI running in the background to make it work.

"Level 45: Mission Team Alpha-01", the elevator announced, and hummed to a stop.

Borma led the way out of the doors: "Morning, Xian," he greeted the leader of a group of three transhumans waiting to enter an elevator, and received a nod in return; then the big sophont turned right and led the group down another open corridor that rounded the Zenith Sky Garden to their right.

Garrus stole another gaze after the group of three. Yes, one of the transhumans actually had blue skin and bioluminescent marks that coalesced into some form of flowing tattoos on the neck and behind the ears, clashing with the bright yellow hair. He minutely shock his head.

Also, Christian Togusa and Batou were both falling behind, forming their own separate group. Why's that?

"Lemme show you around", Borma offered Garrus, drawing the turians gaze back to him.

"Lead the way", Garrus just replied.

"Great. Okay, down this corridor are our offices", Borma indicated with a sweep and point of his left arm, "as you can also see on the entoptic signposts near the ceiling or at junction walls," which he indicated as well. "That's where we do most of your day-to-day work, and we also have several guest offices; that's where you can work if you're here. We also have a central work island with conference room functionality, where we commonly come together if there's something bigger and we want personal talking space."

"That happen often?"

"Yes. During my time in the army, we didn't have this many RL meetings."

"So… you were Army?"

"Yes. The public spaces are this way, halfway around the Garden. That includes the cafeteria."

"A good one?"

"I'd say so. We also stock M-Dextro-food, Biocode TI2, so no worries."

"Just for us?", Garrus asked, rasping his back teeth together in a pattern meant for switching subharmonic resonance in his larynx, adding a teasing sarcasm to his voice.

"Standard since Contact.", Borma replied, apparently oblivious to the sarcasm. Garrus translator pinged a note.

❮ Increased Stress Harmonics, Very low Level. ❯

Huh.

"Infocrime doesn't stop at transhuman sophonts. We had visitors like you before. Well, not Spectre's, they were somewhat… unwelcome at our government organizations." The man smiled for a short moment.

"I can imagine."

"Well, yes, here we are." Borma stopped. "Toilets are in shorter intervals; again, fully bio-compatible."

"I noticed. We passed by one on our way."

"Hmmm. One piece of note; we have several androids here. If you need anything for work, just ask, and Maestro should get back to you."

"Maestro?"

"That would be me", a voice said. Garrus head flipped around.

Another transhuman of… he failed to make the identification by himself. His VI jumped in.

❮ Mediterranean. Italian phenotype primary. ❯

"So you're… Maestro."

"Sì signore. I'm your's personal when it comes to all matters alimentare. Just ask, and I'll be there for you."

"You're an AI."

"Yes. An Artificial General Intelligence to be precise. I've been in the business of supervising nourishment for entire buildings since 2182."

"That's… a long time."

"By many standards, yes. And I am quite skilled when it comes to alien cuisine. So, no worries monsignore Vakarian. You are in good hands with me. Any wishes you have right now?"

"...Uh, actually, uh, no."

"Very well. Talk to you later." Maestro stepped out of his field of vision and was, when Garrus followed him a moment later, gone.

"I can't decide what is spookier," Garrus muttered. "How they just appear out of nowhere when you speak their name, or when they materialize in front of you."

Borma shrugged. "That's preference. I'd hazzard them stepping in and out it less jarring than an ARvatar materializing straight into your field of vision like a teleporter once you're used to it."

"Guess I'll find out."

Borma laughed at that. "You will. C'mon, let's get you an office and up to speed."

At the same time, Batou and Togusa had reached the laters office, and entered after a silent process of authentication. Batou noticed that the process took a few milliseconds longer. [Huh. Longer encryption keys?]

[Actually, yes. You were issued a new ID set.]

"So, Togusa, you wanted to talk?"

"Yes." The eurasian man dropped into his seat with a suddenly tired topology.

After a second of thought, right hand massaging his scalp, he turned to Batou and made eye contact: "How do you deal with… it? With death on the… the battlefield? In combat?"

Batou seated himself and contemplated over the question for several seconds. "This because of what happened on DRAGONS LAIR?"

"Yes. Just… I don't know how to deal with this." Togusa's expression was crestfallen, mixed with stress and animalistic, primal fear bubbling up from below, his breath quickening.

Batou recognized the signs. "Togusa", he said in a stern, but warm tone of voice. "Don't go down there. Stay with me, stay here."

"Whaa-?"

"Hey!" Batou laid one big hand steadily on Togusa's shoulder. "You there? Okay, listen to me? That fear of death? That is good. Means you aren't some semi-automatic chiphead zombie. Means life means something to you, and you don't regard yourself as expendable."

"So… it's not, uh, it's-"

"Fuck. No." Batou dropped back into his chair. "Look, we never got over it either. The guys who said they did are either chipheads, idiots, or liars. It's the same shit since ever. Intellectually, we might know that our stacks record all neural activity and that in the event of death you'll get retrieved and resleeved, but that does jackshit to all the instinctual crap. Death is terrifying. Take it from me, I was there."

Batou dropped back into his seat with his trademark bang.

"And that you fear it tells me you are alright. I know it is traumatizing, especially when you get close to it, or when you get lobstered, but you have to embrace that feeling in a way. Okay? It's allright. It means you are alright."

"O… Okay. I think."

"Good." Batou looked at his friend with a bit of worry, but mostly friendly confidence. Mentally, he nudged his muse: [Ping Iva. I don't like to do this, but Togusa needs some professional help.]

[On it, boss.]

"...Uh, sorry, are we interrupting?" Batou's head whipped around to the door, ready to let a sharp remark fly off his tongue - And just managed to hold it when he saw Borma and Garrus Vakarian stand in the door. The turian especially looked highly uncomfortable where he was, judging by the entoptic readings surrounding him.

"In a minute, my office, okay?"

"Sure thing." Borma closed the door with a gesture.

"...Why didn't you-"

"Let them in?"

"I thought that was good or something. You know, people and stuff?"

"First off, for now this is in between us two. Then it is between the team, and then it is between everyone. Vakarian might be a career soldier who probably has his own experience with meeting the grim reaper, but he has neither our cultural perspective nor would I confide him in at this point. This", Batou said, stabbing onto the table, "is how you give enemy intelligence ammunition. And that's not something we want at this point. Your physiometrics will tell them enough already."

"You know… I don't like this entire 'they're the enemy' attitude Togusa noted, half to himself, half to Batou.

"You think I do? I joined with the man because he had a different version than even the Alliance brass. One of cooperation instead of mistrust.

"But that doesn't mean that reality disappears. Section 9 works behind the curtain, and when it has to, in the shadows. By way of our mandate we have opposed, and still oppose the STG, the SIU, THEI and others. And we can never fully forget that all of these people still hold allegiances to wherever they came from. They're not the Alliance, Togusa - Yes they are allies. But that doesn't mean they are uncompromising friends.

"Now, let's get back to Borma and Garrus Vakarian. I'm itching to talk about something else."

"...Me too", Togusa croaked, stretching out his hand. The table reacted, guided by his muse, to a silent request, and extruded a bottle of water from a hidden-away dispenser on the right side.

The ex-detective opened it with slightly trembling hands, wiping away another tear, and drank it in big gulps.

Inside his ARO, Togusa was swiping through his medical applications. He wasn't going to use the modern smart suppressors and life editors, but between his general-use DNI and the medichine micro- and nanoswarm that inhabited his shell, he had access to a wide selection of drugware; a general-use anti-panic medication 'ware was easy to select, and set in pretty much instantly, while not punching his brain into submission in a way that would lead to withdrawal on deactivation.

He clicked the activated app away, and took a couple of deep breaths. "Okay then, Batou. Let's go."

As they approached the door, he said what was really on his mind. "And, big guy… thank you."

"No problemo."

They stepped across the floor, and into Batou's office.

Borma had taken a seat in one of the lounge chairs near the far wall and its massive holographic screen. Garrus was standing in the middle of the room, and staring at the wall. Specifically, at the awards, medals, and the big framed image of Batou's former Platoon, posing in fully loaded gear and weapons, visor's up and smiling.

"You fought at Torfan." He went straight to the point.

"And a whole lot of other places," Batou confirmed. "That a problem?" The galactic reception to BROKEN ANVIL had been mixed, if only because the Special Forces of the 7th N6 Omega had murdered their way through several battalions and suffocated over a regiment more in their bunkers, Shepard at their front.

"Oh, Spirits, no." Garrus Vakarian turned around, right claw banging into his clothing with a dry clang that revealed the armor underneath. "Keshsravron'asar, as far as I am concerned, you did the galaxy a great service that day." He actually bowed before Batou. "I know you face discontent and backlash for what happened with BROKEN ANVIL, but not from me."

"And that from a turian." Batou teased.

"I am not exactly what you could call a good turian. Which is probably why… I approve so much of what you did. Rules and opinions be damned, that day you stood up and did what was right… what was just for the victims of batarian slavery, of their attacks and raids and blatant disregard of Citadel law." And I wish I could ever have achieved a deed like that on my own. But I did not.

"...Okay." Batou was spooked out by the behavior. Garrus Vakarian switched from what was a pretty usual young man to a very formal and almost… reverencing persona with spooky regularity. Saito hadn't joked when he said the turians take warfare seriously everywhere.

"I'm sorry if that creeps you out," Garrus remarked and dropped into his own seat. "It's just… culture, you know? Same way you have AIs everywhere and massive amounts of brain and other enhancements and got back-ups… war's-"

"-you take it seriously everywhere, Saito mentioned that", Togusa remarked. "As you said, it's culture. And we might as well be honest - there's worse out there." Like batarians and their slavery.

Garrus nodded in solemn agreement.

"So, ah, where do you come-"

[I have an incoming conference call request]

"-from, huh?". Togusa stopped mid-sentence. Everyone looked at each other.

"Uh, you got a request as well?" Togusa saw Garrus' throat was moving, and his mandibles vibrated visibly, producing a low rasping sound.

"Sorry, we turians aren't really good at silent subvocalizing. I was talking with my PAVI. And yes, I got a request too."

Batou talked with his muse and the room at large loud for the benefit of everyone: "Ivis, on the big screen, please."

His muse answered over the loudspeakers off the office.

"No problem, boss. Linking now."

The aft holographic screen expanded into depth as it activated, a pentagonal virtual conference room forming beyond, with all sides transparent and showing one group of conversation partners. Two faces were occupied by the group in Analytics respective interrogations. Another captured Aramaki in his office, with an image of Bau at his side, the later apparently inside a vehicle. The fifth side was occupied by the Isis work cluster analytics group, with some investigations personal in the mix.

"Okay, before anyone comes asking what this is about", Saito preempted everyone with a raised hand, "we just got a solid lead."

"This soon?", Bau asked. "I thought-"

"-that it would take longer? We did too. But we got lucky. You see, most of the Egos we have on stack are, were, unidentified. Then we got lucky and hit leads on a OFCF lieutenant.

"Long story short, we hit one of their logistics guys, and rolled him up in the queue. Me and Aetheis actually took a short Vir dive with him, and we hit gold. He not only knew the people shifted aboard the SCAS Oliver, but also where they were going. And… he knew another puzzle of NOVUM SPIRITUS. Another 'associated group' is developing the delivery shell and the final payload package. But they had a preliminary version, probably among all that data they flashed and that we're still puzzling together."

"Oh, that's good. That's very good. If we get the payload…", Bosoun trailed off, a savage, toothy grin spreading across his face. "If we get it, that could shorten our work time by days. Forensics, we need to talk."

"You can after this, Bosoun, you can. In fact, why don't you come over so I can show you in person how hard this is?!", someone in the fourth face snapped at Bosoun, who raised his arms in defence.

"Guys, let's cool it," Ishikawa intervened. "I think the location is far more important."

"So," Bau's head and torso leaned forward in his holographic image. "Where are they headed, Agent Saito?"

"Bekenstein. They're headed for a rendezvous on Bekenstein, at a private Villa, in two days. And there," Saito took a breath, "there, they will pass the NOVUM SPIRITUS package onto a new contact."

There was silence. But every transhuman in the group crossed their arms, and Togusa's face was an open grimace of distaste, caught in old memories.

"I think we'll be packing for a field trip," Garrus finally quipped.

"Oh Garrus - you have no idea," Aetheis replied.

Togusa nodded. "Bekenstein… is gonna get ugly. That planet didn't get the nickname "Transhumanity's Illium" for nothing."

End of Arc I - Discovery

A/N(Sevoris): So yeah, this segment took a bit longer to write and perfect; beginning the writing process on the prequel Interference Point helped, however, with bringing the entire writing process forward.

So, Bekenstein. The first bread crump of the trail... and the watch dogs are on.