19 July 2185, Pareinos District, Nos Astra/Illium

I stared at Detective Anaya over the remains of our meals. Had Shepard told me I think the Reapers are allied with the Orcs of Mordor I would have been no less surprised.

"You cannot be serious," I said at last. "Ardat-yakshi are a myth. Villains and monsters out of legend."

"That's what the Matriarchs want you to think," said the detective. "Doctor, the ardat-yakshi phenomenon isn't myth or magic. It's based on a genetic disorder that isn't even all that rare. Maybe one in a hundred of us have it in a mild form."

I shook my head, still trying to resolve the cognitive dissonance that Anaya's assertions provoked. "One in a hundred asari is not a psychopathic killer, devouring the souls of others."

She actually laughed at me, though not unkindly. "That was my reaction too, when I was told about all this in the academy. The Matriarchs may try to hush it up, but a cop has to know. Haven't you ever met an asari who just didn't seem to care about anyone else? No empathy, just ego and the drive to use other people? A maiden who jumps from one liaison to the next, and her lovers never get anything out of her but pain and heartache. A stone-cold commando whose only interest is the hunt and the kill. A business executive who doesn't give a shit about anything but the bottom line. And somehow they never have kids of their own. You know the type."

I thought back to a few asari I had known over the years. "I suppose I do."

"Good bet a lot of asari like that have the disorder. They don't have it in the lethal form – that's rare as blue diamonds, thank the Goddess. They don't kill their lovers like the ardat-yakshi out of legend. They just abuse them and then throw them away when they're not useful anymore. And they're sterile. Maybe they can be the father for another asari's kids, but they can never be mothers."

My eyes widened as I saw the implications. "So only . . . purebloods can carry this disorder?"

"Yeah." She had the grace to look embarrassed for a moment. "The best way to make sure the problem doesn't get into your lineage is to mate outside the asari species."

She has done her research on me. Well, at least she's trying to be polite about it.

"That might explain the prejudice against such matings," I said calmly. "If the Matriarchs know about this condition, they would find ways to discourage matrons from accepting asari fathers for their children."

The detective nodded wisely. "It's been going on for centuries. It's hard to tell in the old histories, but if you read between the lines you can see that the disease was more common before we met the salarians and set up the Citadel Alliance."

Suddenly I had to stop, because a horrible thought had occurred to me.

Might this be why Benezia was so reticent about my father's identity? Might my father have suffered from this condition?

Might I have it as well?

Then I followed the logic through to its conclusion.

No. I mated with Shepard many times, and once we had resolved a few purely psychological issues our joinings brought him nothing but pleasure. I made a partial joining with Vara and she exhibited no signs of distress. I may have had to do terrible things over the past two years, but I am still capable of empathy for others. I am safe from this curse.

I took a last sip of my wine, trying to shake the horror of that last thought. "So this condition exists, and it has a lethal form. Then the legends of the ardat-yakshi must be based in historical reality."

"Believe it, Doctor. I've read the case studies. Maybe one asari in a million has the condition bad enough that she has to be confined to a monastery or a prison. Then you get the real lethal cases, the ones who could turn into killers on a huge scale, like Queen Lyssa out of the stories."

"How frequent are those?"

"In modern times, maybe one or two in a century. Mostly they end up in the monasteries too. Or they try to run and the Justicar Order catches them."

I shivered at the thought of the justicars.

"So you can see why I think there must be a true ardat-yakshi here on Illium. That autopsy report on your friend? It's a dead match for the symptoms of a lethal attack by a carrier of the disease. Same for these other cases I showed you. In my business you hear rumors once in a while, of an ardat-yakshi who got away from the justicars, living in hiding somewhere and killing whenever she thinks she can get away with it. Maybe the rumors are true."

"It still sounds like a ghost story, but I'll stipulate the possibility. What does that tell us about our killer?"

Anaya sat back, satisfied that she had won her point. "A lot depends on how long she's been killing. A young ardat-yakshi is just another maiden . . . but every time she kills, she soaks up a little of what made her victim special. She gets smarter, faster, more cunning. More ability to manipulate people. More raw biotic power."

"Like Queen Lyssa." I remembered the story of the Monster Queen of Ramatis, who had ruled over – and fed upon – an immense realm, before being brought down by a band of legendary heroes.

"Yeah. It sounds like your friend was a pretty smart matron, not likely to just jump into bed with anyone. Yet she met the killer for the first time at that lounge, and then walked right out the door with her a little while later. That argues the killer is a very smooth operator. Smart. Persuasive."

"She's also not working alone," I pointed out.

Anaya shook her head. "No. Ardat-yakshi don't have any supernatural ability to disappear in front of cameras and security systems. Someone had to do that for her."

"Who?"

"Don't know. Probably a big player."

"Eclipse?" I guessed.

"Maybe. They might have the technical capability. Doesn't feel like them, though. They wouldn't use this kind of indirection. If they don't like you, they just start shooting at you in broad daylight. As you have reason to know."

"True."

"What's odd is the idea of an ardat-yakshi working with a partner. The psychology of the disease suggests they wouldn't work or play well with others."

"Even utter sociopaths can make alliances of convenience," I decided. "Our killer could strike an agreement with some party in Nos Astra who could help to conceal her activities. Give her safe haven. Tamper with security systems. Put pressure on senior police officials to ignore certain lines of investigation."

"The thought had occurred, Doctor."

"In exchange, the ardat-yakshi occasionally targets people her partners want dead." I tilted my head back, still holding Anaya's gaze. "Detective, one of my people has been killed. I have no doubt that more will follow if nothing is done. Will Nos Astra law enforcement act on this case?"

She sighed. "I'll personally do whatever I can for you . . . but no, until something forces my superiors to take action, I think we're on our own."

I nodded grimly. "I suppose I've come to expect that by now. Illium is what it is."

The detective watched my face closely. "What are you planning, Doctor?"

"Perhaps it would be better for you to not ask that question."

20 July 2185, T'Soni Analytics Offices, Nos Astra/Illium

The next day at the office began very badly.

I came in at the usual hour and met Aspasia outside my office, thinking to prepare for the morning staff meeting. Instead I took one look at her and told her to go home.

"Liara . . ."

"Don't argue with me," I said firmly. "You look terrible, and you haven't taken so much as a day off since we set up this firm two years ago. You deserve a break to cope with what has happened. Go home."

She stood silently in the hallway outside my office, a datapad dangling from nerveless fingers, and looked at me from eyes framed by deep purple smudges. "I don't want to go. Not alone. If I'm alone with his memories . . . it's hard."

I stepped close and embraced her. "I know. What if I were to send someone to stay with you for a few days? Just to keep you company, listen to you if you feel like talking."

She almost shook her head in rejection of the idea, but then something made her stop, resting her forehead on my shoulder. "That . . . might not be a terrible idea," she said in a small voice.

I held her close for a few moments, feeling her shoulders shake. When Quintus appeared in the hallway, I warned him away with my eyes and he retreated in silence. Finally Aspasia eased out of my embrace, scrubbing at her cheeks and breathing deeply.

"Better?" I asked gently.

"Maybe a little. I'm sorry, Liara, I feel as if I'm letting everyone down."

"Don't be absurd." I opened my omni-tool and called down to Arin's department. "Arin, would you send Keetah up to my office?"

"Right away," said the quarian.

As it happened, Arin and Keetah appeared together. Keetah was already Aspasia's friend, so the quarian woman was only too happy to take her home and watch over her for a time. Arin remained behind, his body language continuing to show concern even after the others had left.

"What is it, Arin?"

"Doctor, would you come down to my office? There's something we should discuss." He made a gesture with one hand, a bit of quarian sign language that I knew meant danger.

"Can it wait until after the staff meeting?" I asked casually.

"I don't think so," he said soberly.

"All right." I opened my omni-tool and sent a message to the other department heads, cancelling the meeting for the time being. "Lead on, then."

Five minutes later I stood over a workbench in Quarian Central, looking through a microscope at . . . something. I saw a very small object, no more than two millimeters long, full of intricate structure, but it didn't look like any machine I had ever seen before. It resembled a lump of pollen or a tiny seed-pod more than anything else.

"All right, Arin, you've managed to puzzle me. What is it?"

"It's the listening device I found planted in my office."

I rose from the instrument and stared at him wide-eyed.

"I got to thinking about what you said yesterday, about the possibility of Collector technology shared with the Shadow Broker or his agents. We suspect there's a Shadow Broker mole in our organization, but we've never found him. Maybe one reason is because he's using technology we weren't set up to detect."

"Like this."

"Yes. It's an astonishing piece of engineering," said the quarian admiringly. "Adheres to a surface and blends in until it's almost impossible to spot visually. Undetectable the standard sweep technologies. Seems to pick up audio with almost perfect fidelity. Then there's the transmission mode. I can't be sure, but I think it uses quantum entanglement to exfiltrate data."

I shook my head in wonder. "That's not possible. Nobody can build a QEC that small."

Arin shrugged. "It's at least theoretically possible. A qubit can be stored in something as small as a single electron, after all. But no one I know of can do it. The smallest QEC I've ever heard of was still too big for one person to carry, and only had a capacity of a few kilo-qubytes. But we don't know the limits to Collector capabilities."

"True. How did you find this one?"

"I got some information about Collector materials technology while we were on Ferris Fields. They use some interesting ceramic-polymer hybrids that I've never seen before. I reset our bug-sweeping tools to scan for those and started looking around my office first. Didn't take long."

I glanced back at the microscope. "You can be sure this one is dead?"

"Now that I know what to look for, yes."

"All right. Make this your top priority. Sweep the entire central office . . . but make it look like a routine sweep, and don't destroy any of the devices you find, except in the conference rooms. We need a space to talk securely, but I don't want to reveal too much of what we know just yet. I'll discreetly let the rest of the inner circle know what's happening."

"Understood, Doctor."

In the course of that day, Arin found twenty-three bugs in our central facility. Three of them were in my office. Over half were placed in our networks, and appeared to be monitoring data rather than audio.

Arin, Quintus, Vara and I did our best to give no sign that we suspected what was going on . . . but by the end of that day, all of us worked through a state of shock in the privacy of our thoughts. We now had to assume that the Shadow Broker knew almost everything about T'Soni Analytics, possibly from the day we began operations. The potential damage was staggering.

"I don't like this, despoina."

I kept my eyes closed and held very still. Vara's fingers were deft and precise on my face, but I didn't want to give her any reason to fumble as she reconstructed Kalliste Renai's markings. Besides, knowing how she felt about me was adding a disturbing element of sexual tension to the intimate task. "I know, Vara."

"Using yourself as bait for this . . . creature."

"We've been over this. We both know I'm the ultimate target in any case. If she can't reach me, she will go after other members of the firm, and we can't guard everyone indefinitely." I felt my lips tense against my teeth. "I won't have it. We go after this ardat-yakshi, and if we can, we go after whoever is sponsoring her."

"At least let me go with you."

"You knew that won't work. This thing is a clever and cautious predator. It won't go after the strongest prey, the one most carefully guarded. It will choose the one that appears weakest, the one it can catch away from the rest of the flock."

She drew back from me. I opened my eyes to look up into her face, tense with worry.

She laid a gentle hand on my left shoulder, where the medical monitor was still glowing against my bare skin. "Goddess, Liara. Three days ago you had ribs in your left lung, splinters threatening your heart, damage to your spine and your kidneys. You're in no condition."

I rested my other hand on hers for a moment. "I'm fine. The surgery was a success, the quick-heal is working, I've been getting healthy meals and at least some sleep. I can do this . . . and this way, if I make a mistake nobody pays for it but me."

She sighed, resignation in her voice. "All right, despoina. I am sworn to carry your burdens."

I stood and began to pull on my commando outfit. "Look on the bright side, Vara. One way or another, Kalliste Renai dies tonight."

20 July 2185, Perikylos District, Nos Astra/Illium

An asari mercenary went out on the streets of Nos Astra, flush with money from a grand score, loud in celebration, walking like a carnivore on the prowl. She showed herself to security cameras across half the city and attracted attention wherever she went. She drank, she gambled, she danced. She flirted outrageously and then slapped her would-be lovers down.

I acted the role of a lifetime, chewing the scenery and holding nothing back. If the invisible enemy didn't know about Kalliste Renai's true identity, I still wanted to tempt her into revealing herself. And if she did know, I wanted her to think me an arrogant fool, too stupid to know what I might be calling down upon myself.

I hoped that last wasn't the truth.

Close to midnight, my hunt finally succeeded. I washed up in a small night-club, a place popular with Eclipse commandos and other mercenaries. Liquor flowed freely, music blared with a driving bass rhythm, and the dancers were on the menu. I stalked in as if I owned the place, ordered a tumbler of neat whiskey, and scanned the floor.

When an asari appeared at the bar close by my side, I almost betrayed myself by jumping in surprise. She certainly had not been there a moment before, and I hadn't seen her approach.

I glanced at her, top to bottom and back again. She certainly attracted the eye, a tall and slender matron, wearing a body-hugging dress in black silk, leaning on the bar in a pose of sensual grace. Her features seemed too strong for beauty, her cheekbones and jaw line very prominent, her large steel-gray eyes set deep under a formidable brow. She watched me in turn, her eyes alight with arrogant amusement.

I turned to lean on the bar, my drink in my free hand, mirroring her pose. "Well, well. You look tasty enough."

"Were you looking for some companionship this evening?" she asked. Goddess, that voice. Sha'ira herself wouldn't have been able to pack so much raw suggestion into a simple sentence.

"Not really. Tonight's for drinking and blowing a few thousand credits at the gaming tables. Trying to cram a good fuck into the ops plan would just be greed." I took a large sip of my whiskey, feeling it burn all the way down. "Of course, I would never pass up a stroke of good fortune."

"I see," she murmured, smiling. "What's your name?"

"Kalliste Renai. Ship's captain, pirate, gun for hire, whatever else I can manage that pays well."

"That's not really your name, is it?"

"Of course not, but it will do."

"My name is Morinth."

"That's not really your name either, is it?"

"Of course not, but it will do as well."

I grinned. "Couple of liars like us, what kind of trouble do you suppose we could get into?"

"Why don't we discuss it?" she suggested. "There's too much noise here, but I have a table over there in the corner."

"No, I don't think so." Before I could think twice about it, I had thumped my drink down on the bar, leaned close, and kissed her hard on the lips. Method acting once more: I drew on all my memories of Shepard, my confusion about Vara, and threw all of it into that kiss. If a shudder ran down my spine, I hoped she would take it for excitement rather than revulsion.

"Why waste time?" I murmured once I broke away, our breath still mingling. "Life is too damn short."

"An interesting sentiment," she said quietly. "Not at all in character for an asari. It sounds more like something one of the short-lived races would say."

"When you've had angry strangers trying to kill you, a thousand-year lifespan stops seeming like something you can take for granted."

"To live in the moment," she whispered, running a deft hand up my side, and then teasing at the folds of skin behind my neck. For a moment I wanted to pull away, but then the reaction faded and I felt a surge of arousal. "I rather like that."

"It helps," I said huskily. "Sometimes you need to be the first one with a gun in motion. You can't hesitate."

She smiled. For a moment she reminded me irresistibly of Jona Sederis . . . although Morinth wasn't a slave to her own personal madness. It didn't blind her to the world around her. She controlled it. She used it. "Don't lie to me," she murmured. "It's not just a necessity, is it?"

I thought fast, ignoring the tension in my belly, guessing what she might mean and how to respond. "I suppose not. There's something about the look in their eyes when they know you have the advantage."

"Yes. She knows you're going to win, and she's going to die. Nothing can compare to that moment."

I snorted, trying to regain the upper hand. "Well, look at you, talking like an ice-cold commando. How many times have you ever had to shoot your way out of a bad situation?"

She gazed at me, her eyes alight. "Oh, never. I'm sure you're much better than I am . . . with a gun."

"You have that right."

"Come on," she said, leaning close to murmur in my aural cavity. Chills ran down my spine. "I'd love to hear about it . . . but not here. I have a place. It's not far."

Something wasn't right. I no longer controlled the situation. I was no longer acting. A voice in the back of my mind shouted a warning.

A small voice. Easily ignored.

I followed Morinth, out of the club and into the brightly lit Nos Astra streets. My nerves hummed, from drink and a surge of raw lust. I had a hard time looking away from her shape as she moved just ahead of me, leading me to a place of her choosing.

Liara.

Shepard?

Her eyes glanced back at me, light reflecting from them as if from the surface of a deep pool.

My hands tingled. I wanted to put them on her, tear away that silk gown and plunder the softness of her skin.

I'm here.

Shepard? How can you be here?

Morinth smiled.

An alleyway, no lights but what reflected around the corner from the main street. I followed that black-clad shape and turned yet another corner into almost complete darkness. My boots splashed through a puddle of stagnant water. Shadows. A stale scent on the air.

Morinth stopped, turned to face me, barely visible in the gloom. I didn't remember removing my gloves, but my bare hands dove under her dress, clawed at her skin. Nothing dulled the raw sensation of her warmth, the texture of the scales on her flanks. Her back slammed against the wall. She growled as I kissed and nibbled at her throat.

I closed my eyes.

Shepard.

Ugly face, broad shoulders, strong arms, beautiful crystal-blue eyes. His smile, so foolish out in the world, so tender for me in the privacy of our bed. His hands on me, mine on him. His mind, so deep and rich.

Liara.

"Liara," he whispered.

"I love you," I told him. "I need you so much."

Through the cascade of sensations I heard a sound, an insistent whine from somewhere close by: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee . . .

"Don't worry," he told me. "I'll be with you soon enough. We'll never be parted again."

Hands like claws at the back of my neck, on the base of my spine. Blue-white light in the darkness.

Pain.

Shepard rolled to loom over me, his weight pressing down on me as his tongue explored the space behind my collarbone. He rose up to whisper to me once again.

Incredible pain.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE . . .

"Nassana Dantius sends her regards," he said.

My eyes snapped open.

I no longer stood up under my own power. I hung limp in the ardat-yakshi's grasp, held upright by her strong arms and a nimbus of dark energy. Her lips lingered by my aural cavity, having just whispered her final gloating taunt. I felt incredible pain where her hands clutched at my body. Another white-hot spike of agony hammered through my skull and impaled the base of my brain. I could feel a trickle of blood running from my nose. The medical monitor on my left shoulder howled an alarm.

Morinth drew away slightly, looking into my eyes with just a hint of surprise.

From somewhere I called up the strength to fight back. "No!" I screamed, breaking her grip and lashing out with my right hand. My nails raked across her cheek, leaving behind three parallel streaks of blood. Morinth recoiled with a snarl, letting me go. I stumbled a few steps away, collapsed on the ground, wiping at the blood on my face with the back of one hand.

She glared at me, dark power building around her. Her beauty vanished, twisted into ugly rage. "You little bitch," she hissed.

Running footsteps, rapidly approaching from my right.

I swayed, tried to rise to my feet.

"Get away from her, you filthy creature!"

Vara appeared out of nowhere, a combat knife in each hand, leaping to strike at the ardat-yakshi. She was fast, so graceful and fast, I could barely see her hands in motion. For an instant I thought nothing could possibly survive her onslaught.

Morinth dodged like a shadow. Vara missed, once, twice, then once more on a vicious backstroke.

Then the ardat-yakshi produced an eruption of biotic force, knocking Vara off her feet. She flew backwards, and slammed into the opposite wall of the alley with a horrible crunch.

I ignited.

No conscious thought was involved. My corona simply surged into existence. From near-complete darkness, the alley suddenly became lit as bright as day. I rose to my feet and began to walk toward the ardat-yakshi.

Morinth snarled and hurled a bolt of telekinetic force, then another.

I gestured slightly with one hand, then the other, deflecting her attacks. Dimly, I heard the crash of stone walls shattering behind me. Then I clenched a fist and mimed an uppercut.

The ardat-yakshi slammed a barrier into place . . . just a moment too late. She screamed in surprise as she flew back the length of the alley, tumbling head over heels, dark energy surging around her as she frantically tried to control her trajectory.

I followed. "No more."

She landed on her feet, coiled like a serpent, watching me closely.

"Do you hear me, monster?" I filled my lungs to shout, clenched both fists. "No more!"

The sound echoed in the confined space.

I bore down on her. "No more lies. No more false friends just waiting to betray. No more murders in the dark. No more monsters lurking in the shadows to kill us all. No more!"

Morinth's eyes widened. I saw it, that moment when she knew I was better and she was going to die.

My fists slammed together, in front of me and just below my eye level.

White light detonated. For some distance up the sides of the buildings around us, every window shattered, raining glass down into the alley. The concussion echoed like thunder across the face of Nos Astra.

An enormous wave of force rolled down on the ardat-yakshi. I saw a dark shape turn away, fleeing for its very life, a shell of dark energy wrapped around to conceal it from view. Then the biotic wave flashed across it, and it simply vanished, the wall behind it collapsing in a chaos of dust and shattered glass. Electric charge scattered around me, grounding on every irregularity of the street and the walls, guttering away to nothingness. Then I heard only silence, broken by the sound of shards still pattering down, the distant wail of emergency vehicles.

I fell to my knees, panting, blind in the sudden darkness now that my corona had winked out. For a long minute I struggled just to remain conscious. If Morinth had returned, she could probably have killed me with the touch of one hand. But she didn't return. For once the predator had met its match, had remembered what it meant to fear.

Suddenly I raised my head, struck by a sudden thought.

Goddess. Vara.

I rose to my feet and stumbled as quickly as I could, back the way I had come.

She looked very small, lying motionless, a combat knife lying abandoned by her right hand, her legs half-buried by a pile of new rubble.

"No," I whispered, and hurried over. I went to my knees again beside her, scrabbling at the fallen stone, checking for injuries. "No, no no no. Not you too. Not you too."

Then she turned her head toward me, her face streaked with blood but her eyes suddenly wide. Alive. My heart seemed to stop.

"Despoina?"

I wrapped my arms around her and finally broke down. The first-responders found me there a few minutes later, still holding her close and weeping.

21 July 2185, T'Soni Analytics Offices, Nos Astra/Illium

I sat in a chair in Arin's laboratory, still in my commando leathers, still covered in dust and blood. Painstakingly, using a small knife, I dug under the fingernails on my right hand.

Small scraps of bloody flesh went onto a clean glass slide. The slide went into a genetic sequencer. After a few moments of dull, exhausted waiting, a holographic window appeared and began to fill with data.

"Looks like a good reading," said Arin quietly.

I glanced at the confidence level and nodded. "There's some contamination from my own genome, and from the bacteria that always live under one's nails, but that's to be expected. There should be more than enough here to pursue a search."

The quarian peered at me. "I have the access you wanted. It was one of the most difficult hacks I've ever carried out. You sure you want to risk this?"

"I'm sure." I glanced at Arin. "Thank you. Go have an early breakfast or something. It's best that you not be here to see what I'm going to do."

He hesitated, but then nodded and left me alone in his lab.

I washed my hands, and then sat down at the computer console he had left open for me. A moment with my omni-tool downloaded the data from the genetic sequences, and then re-uploaded it to the system Arin had illegally accessed. I called for a database search.

Tens of thousands of light-years away, the top-level genetic archives of the Asari Republics responded.

MIRALA, lineage T'SARIEN, born 1709 CE, pureblood, determined to possess the ardat-yakshi disorder in its lethal variant 1749 CE, fugitive as of 1749 CE, current location unknown.

I recorded that result. Detective Anaya would probably be able to use it, along with the other evidence I could turn over to her, to finally force her superiors to act. If the ardat-yakshi still lived, she would soon find Nos Astra too dangerous a hunting ground. The police might even find and arrest her, although I doubted that.

I tapped at the console again, backing up a generation in Mirala's family tree.

SAMARA, lineage T'SARIEN, born 1296 CE, pureblood, bonded 1695 CE to RHYDIS XENTHISSA, had the following issue:

RILA, lineage T'SARIEN, born 1705 CE, pureblood, determined to possess the ardat-yakshi disorder in its lethal variant 1749 CE, sequestered 1749 CE.

MIRALA, lineage T'SARIEN, born 1709 CE, pureblood, determined to possess the ardat-yakshi disorder in its lethal variant 1749 CE, fugitive as of 1749 CE, current location unknown.

FALERE, lineage T'SARIEN, born 1713 CE, pureblood, determined to possess the ardat-yakshi disorder in its lethal variant 1749 CE, sequestered 1749 CE.

A moment's curiosity led me to check another record.

RHYDIS, lineage XENTHISSA, born 1288 CE, pureblood, bonded 1695 CE to SAMARA T'SARIEN, no issue, died 1755 CE.

Even through my exhaustion, I felt a pang of sadness. Rhydis Xenthissa must have carried a mild form of the ardat-yakshi disorder. Then some quirk of genetics had caused all three of her daughters by Samara T'Sarien to possess the lethal form of the disease. Two daughters condemned to life in the monastery, the third a fugitive and potential mass murderer? I suspected the poor asari's untimely death had not been an accident.

Samara still lives.

I went back to her record . . . and stopped dead, staring at it.

Postulant to the Justicar Order 1755 CE. Sworn and ordained 1774 CE.

Mirala's mother was a justicar?

After a moment's consideration, I thought I understood. When Mirala fled into hiding, her mother must have known what would happen. Sooner or later, Mirala would kill, and Samara felt responsible. No doubt the sudden death of her bondmate had only confirmed her commitment.

I shook my head, considering how much tragedy could be interpolated into a few dry lines of data.

I sat back in Arin's chair for a long time. Then I opened my omni-tool, taking care to access the extranet directly and not through the compromised T'Soni Analytics network.

Dr. Liara T'Soni to the Justicar Samara, respectful greetings. It may interest you to know that Mirala T'Sarien has been seen here on Illium. The evidence is not conclusive, but it seems likely that she is responsible for several deaths here, including the death of one who was important to me. Should you wish to pursue this matter, I am at your disposal.

I hesitated for a moment. Inviting the scrutiny of a justicar carried certain risks, especially given my current profession and past actions. I suspected that the Justicar's Code might classify me as unjust. Then I shook my head wearily and hit the send key.

I found myself staring at Arin's terminal again, struggling with temptation. Now that I had committed the highly illegal act of breaking into the genetic archives, I found myself wishing to see one more record.

I tapped at the keyboard once more. The Matriarch's Seal appeared for a moment, but Arin had found an administrative code that would deal with that obstacle.

BENEZIA, lineage T'SONI, born 1185 CE, bonded 1975 CE to AETHYTA MELANIS, had the following issue:

LIARA, lineage T'SONI, born 2077 CE, pureblood . . .

I stared at the screen for what felt like a very long time.

Aethyta Melanis.

Matriarch Aethyta was my father.