24 May 2186, Upper Zakera Ward/Citadel

It took us all of fifteen seconds to realize that our plan would not work.

Our aircar touched down in the landing area outside Khan's casino. Shepard and I emerged in all our finery: an expensive tuxedo for him, a sheer white gown for me, my obsidian bonding-bracelet very prominent on my wrist as I tucked one arm inside his. Brooks and Nerylla climbed out behind us, the human in a navy-blue dress, the asari in an ankle-length black silk gown that concealed her sidearm.

The crowd outside the casino came swarming the moment they saw us, dozens of cameras pointing in our direction, flashes of light nearly blinding me.

"Uh-oh," muttered Shepard.

"Smile," I subvocalized. "I think we just became celebrities."

We walked up the red carpet. Shepard did his best to look confident and charismatic, while I put on the role of the attractive asari escort, gluing myself to his side and putting just a little hip-sway into my own stride. We smiled all around and tolerated the onslaught of photography. Brooks and Nerylla walked a few paces behind us, the crowd almost ignoring them.

The doors of the casino opened wide. We passed inside. They closed behind us.

Shepard's face went grim. "Well, our o-plan just went out the window."

I looked up at him with wide blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Shepard, I should have thought of this."

"What's wrong?" asked Brooks nervously.

"Everyone knows who we are, that's what's wrong." Shepard shook his head ruefully. "I bet if we check out the gossip columns, the two of us will show up very high on the top-ten list."

"Well, that makes sense. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel. Savior of the Council twice. Conqueror of the Collectors. The Hero or the Butcher of Bahak, depending on who you talk to. The man who cured the krogan genophage. The greatest living galactic hero . . ."

"Brooks."

". . . and the Shadow Broker." She came to an awkward halt. "How are you going to help me inside? Everyone is going to be watching you."

"Maybe we can use that," said Shepard. He opened his omni-tool. "Garrus?"

"I saw," came the turian's flanging voice. "Way ahead of you. If Liara can score a couple more tickets, Vega and I can be there in five minutes."

I cocked my head. "What are you thinking, love?"

"Garrus hasn't caught nearly the degree of attention we have," he explained. "Even his new position in the turian meritocracy doesn't mean much to non-turians. Meanwhile, hardly anyone knows James yet. Plan B is that instead of blending in, you and I go in and attract lots of attention, while Garrus and James provide Brooks with whatever support she needs."

"James isn't exactly unobtrusive," I objected.

"Sure, he's big, but he cleans up pretty well, and he can navigate an affair like this. You'll see."

Brooks sighed nervously. "I don't know how you two can be so calm about all this. Well, you did run directly under a Reaper while it fought the biggest thresher maw in the galaxy, so I suppose none of this is a big deal for you . . ."

Shepard gave her a sharp glance. "Relax, Brooks."

"Right. Okay. On it." She nodded decisively. "I'm off to the ventilation shaft. Have your friends link into our net as soon as they get here."

Shepard smiled at me while Brooks started up the long stairs. "Well, T'Soni, ready to meet the riff-raff?"

I took his arm once more. "Let's go."

My bondmate and I ascended into the main hall of the casino, Nerylla gliding along watchfully in our wake.

Rather to my surprise, I enjoyed the next two hours.

"Mr. Ashland. It's pleasant to meet you in person at last."

Jonah Ashland was an aging male human with a fringe of gray-white hair, currently looking very haggard as he peered at me. "Hmm. You're Liara T'Soni, aren't you? I bought an intel feed from you, even back before you turned into the Shadow Broker. And the famous Commander Shepard."

"Enjoying the party, sir?" asked Shepard.

"Only young people party. I am in the process of drinking. Ryncol on the rocks tonight."

"That stuff will put you down for the count."

"I just lost a staggering amount of income. That puts things in perspective."

I nodded. "Yes, I've seen the figures on how many of your helium-three facilities have been destroyed by the Reapers. Very unfortunate."

"Pretty fancy night out for someone who's worried about his financial future," Shepard observed.

"Oh, I suppose I'll be fine. It's not like I'll need cab fare home. So long as the two of you find a way to stop the Reapers."

"We're working on it, sir."

"I'm sure. In any case, this was my daughter's idea. Aish has a good heart, although she's going through a rather, hmm, self-absorbed stage."

I glanced away, embarrassed on his behalf. "Yes, we met her earlier."

"Ah, then perhaps I should pass this ryncol over to you." Ashland looked down into his glass, then shrugged and tossed the remainder of his drink off all at once. "Or not. It doesn't matter in the long run. I built Eldfell-Ashland up from almost nothing once. I can do it again, assuming any of us survive this. And if we do, I see plenty of reason for hope."

"Why do you say that, sir?"

"Well, look around."

All of us did, taking in the crowd on all sides. I happened to see Garrus – for once, out of his armor and in a formal evening suit – mingling with a trio of asari halfway across the hall. Of James I saw no sign.

"Twenty years ago, you would never have seen a shindig like this. Humans and turians socializing together, like that's nothing at all unusual. Council races showing genuine concern for the fate of batarians. Everybody trying to have sex with the asari . . ."

"That's not new," I pointed out gently.

"Just trying to see if you were still awake," he said with a sharp-edged smile for me.

"So, all these species together in one room," mused Shepard.

"Yeah. If we win this, it's going to be a different galaxy. Maybe a lot better one."

"We can hope," I murmured.

"I've heard your advice is so good it's almost psychic," said a male human from somewhere behind us. "What's going to happen to me in the next five minutes?"

"Disappointment," said a feminine voice. One I recognized.

I turned and stared, pulling at Shepard's arm to stop his leisurely progress through the crowd.

"Oh. Hey!"

"Sha'ira!" I called.

The Consort looked in my direction, and then rose with an expression of delight on her elegant features. "Liara, it is good to see you again."

The human who had been attempting to "pick up" Sha'ira blinked in surprise, as she hurried over to give me a warm embrace and a kiss.

"Sha'ira," greeted Shepard. "It's been a long time."

The Consort smiled, and then scandalized several dozen watchers by giving him a lingering embrace, and a much more heated kiss than the one she had given me. "My idea of a long time is rather different from yours, Commander Shepard."

"What can I say? Liara and I have packed a lot of living into the last few years."

She smiled, holding him at arm's length to examine him closely. "True. The time has been quite full, for all of us."

"Do you have any advice for me this time?"

Suddenly the expression on her face became quite still, almost fanatic in its intensity, like nothing I had ever seen from her before.

"Win," she said.

Slowly, holding her gaze, he nodded.

Then it was over, her face as serene and her voice as warm as ever. "In the meantime, I have a few moments to spare. Please join me."

We sat across from Sha'ira in her nook, trying to ignore the dozens of pairs of eyes staring at us from outside. The Consort's eyes sparkled as she saw me take Shepard's hand.

"It gives me great pleasure to see the two of you together, and presenting such a superb partnership to the universe," she said. "When I heard that you were killed, Commander . . ."

He nodded grimly. "Not a good time, even if it did work out well. What about you, Sha'ira? I thought I heard a rumor that you had left the Citadel."

"I did, for a time. Some so-called journalists fabricated stories about me, and the scandal was such that I could no longer do my work. I turned my salon over to Masarra, my foremost student, and retired to a little colony in the Silean Nebula."

"Why come back?"

"The war began. I could hardly avoid the heart of the galaxy at a time like this, not because of some scoundrel with a video camera. In any case, many people's priorities have changed. I am needed here, now more than ever."

"Did you go back to your old salon?"

Sha'ira shook her head. "No. It would not have been fair to Masarra, who has done well there. I practice my art alone now. It is a simpler existence."

Shepard nodded. "It's too bad, in a way. Liara and I have fond memories of your old salon. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Perhaps." She watched us for a moment. "Without the commitment and love you share, the place would have no merit, and so long as you share those things you have no need of the place. Be sure that the two of you have my love and respect, no matter where life may take you."

He frowned. "Sha'ira . . ."

"Yes, Commander?"

"You may not want to stay here for long," he said, leaning forward so he could lower his voice. "I can't help thinking that the Citadel is a primary target for the Reapers. They're bound to try to strike here eventually. Sometimes I wonder why they haven't done it already."

She shook her head. "Where do you suggest I go, Commander?"

He opened his mouth, found himself staring into her eyes, closed it again.

"You see the problem," she said, smiling gently at him. "No place in this galaxy is safe. Would you have Liara give up the fight, flee into some dark corner of the universe where the Reapers might not find her for a while?"

He looked at me, his heart in his eyes. "Yes. I would."

I squeezed his hand gently, knowing what was going through his mind at that moment.

"Would you expect her to listen to you, if you advised her so?"

"No." He made a wan smile. "She would hardly be the asari I love if she did."

"Then you see why I can hardly take such advice. You fight with starships, weapons, strategy and tactics. I have other tools, and count victory in other ways. You have your duty, and I have mine."

"Semper fi, Sha'ira." He leaned back, and the mood was broken. "You know, I've often wondered. Just how does one become a hetaira?"

"By understanding the minds around you, no matter how they strive to conceal or mislead themselves. By displaying compassion in every direction, even when you are tempted to believe it undeserved." She settled back in her seat, arranging herself like a work of art, her smile gone enigmatic. "And then trying just a little harder, and just a little longer, than anyone who is not a hetaira can possibly imagine."

Finally Garrus signaled that Brooks had found a way through all of Khan's defenses. Shepard and I made our way toward the outer entrance of the panic room. Once we reached the right position, Garrus and James carefully distracted a security guard and disabled a camera. We met Brooks and hurried inside the short entrance corridor before anyone could see us.

The panic room looked like a comfortable study, complete with a fireplace and dark wood paneling on the walls. We paused just inside the inner door, watching Elijah Khan as he sat quietly, his back to us, apparently staring into the flames.

"Khan, we're not here to threaten you," said Shepard. "We need to talk."

The figure did not move, only sat there silhouetted against the firelight.

After a moment I moved forward, put a hand on the back of Khan's chair, and turned it so he faced the others.

"What the hell?" gasped Brooks.

Khan was clearly dead, shot in the chest at point-blank range with a small-caliber sidearm.

"Well," I said. "I see this conversation will be strictly one-sided."

Shepard frowned, glaring from under his brows. At Brooks.

She didn't see it, hurrying to Khan's desktop to tap at the computer console. "There's a deletion order on the terminal."

"Damn it!" Shepard rushed forward to look for himself.

"Everything's been wiped," said Brooks, stepping back to give him access. "I don't know if it was him, or the killer." She gasped. "Was it me? Did I screw this up?"

Shepard ignored her, his face set in determination, working with the console.

"What are you looking for?" she asked at last.

"Mistakes," he growled. A moment more, and then he stepped back with a nod of satisfaction. "Thought so. Whoever did this had to be quick. They wiped the terminal, but not the comm records."

"Oh! So we can take the comm back to the safe house to scan it, or . . ."

"Or we could do this," said Shepard, touching a key.

The big screen on the wall behind Khan's desk came to life. We saw only a blurred, distorted image, but the voice was relatively clean this time, the distortion not nearly as bad.

"Elijah. Come crawling back?"

I frowned. The voice sounded familiar somehow. Not so much the pitch or intonation as the rhythm, the choice of words.

Brooks opened her omni-tool, apparently engrossed in some technical task. She must be tracing the call, I realized, and let her do it without interference.

"Guess again," said Shepard, folding his arms in his unconscious threat-gesture.

"You." We couldn't see facial expression, but the mysterious enemy clearly recognized Shepard, and held him in contempt. "I see you've recovered from flopping on the floor like a fish."

"Name a time and a place. Or you could hide behind voice disguisers for the rest of your life."

"You're trying to rattle me, so I slip up." We could see a movement, as if he was shaking his head. "You have nothing. All you can do is wait for the hammer to fall."

"Bring a bigger hammer. Your last try was inadequate."

The other was silent for a long moment. Then: "I'm going to take everything you have, and everything you are."

Silence. The call had been cut off from the other end.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Brooks. "There wasn't enough time to trace the call, Commander. I'm sorry."

Shepard nodded, not paying her much attention. "That's okay, Brooks. I'm sure you did everything you could. Liara, pull the data drives from Khan's computer. We're not finished yet."

"The ones that got wiped?" Brooks shook her head. "You really think we can find anything?"

"With EDI, anything's possible. The sooner we get the drives to her, the sooner we can track down this threat."

We spent about thirty minutes exfiltrating from the casino, taking multiple aircars back to Admiral Anderson's apartment so that we would not be too obvious. Shepard slipped Khan's data drives to Garrus, and ordered Brooks to return to the apartment with him and James. Shepard, Nerylla, and I departed last, climbing into our aircar in another blaze of flash photography.

"Well, that was fun," I said as soon as our aircar took off. "Although not so much for the host."

Shepard said nothing, his jaw grimly set.

"What's the matter, love?"

"Brooks," he said.

I cocked my head at him, waiting.

"I'm getting a red alert," he said, tapping at the back of his head. "Right about here."

"You suspect she's not to be trusted?"

"You could say that. None of us have ever seen her before. She shows up just as this whole thing is starting. She turns out to be very helpful, making pertinent suggestions at critical moments, all while looking ditzy and useless." He turned to stare into my eyes. "It's interesting to notice how many of her suggestions would actually make our investigation harder, rather than easier. Then there's the way that Khan turned up dead just at that point. Very damned convenient, for someone."

"Are you suggesting that Brooks killed Khan?" I shook my head. "How? She went in the panic room the same time we did, and he was already dead."

"Sure about that? We didn't know she was ready to go in until she called us. What if she had already slipped inside, just long enough to kill Khan and wipe his computer?"

I frowned. "Nerylla, did Brooks have a sidearm?"

"Not that I saw, despoina."

"Maybe she didn't have one when she left the apartment," said Shepard, "but she was out of our sight for over two hours. She could have picked one up at the casino."

I thought hard, but try as I might, I couldn't come up with anything conclusive to disprove Shepard's suggestion.

"Just watch her, Liara. That's all I'm asking." Shepard faced front again, staring at the brightness of the Citadel's cityscape as it swept past us. "Watch her."

25 May 2186, Upper Kithoi Ward/Citadel

Midnight had passed before all of us returned to Admiral Anderson's apartment. Almost at once, EDI found intact data structures on Khan's drives. She began to reconstruct several messages between Khan and his mysterious former partner. Once she finished, we gathered around the dining room table again to confer.

"Here we go," said Brooks as the messages began to scroll in a holographic display, hovering above the table. "Wow. Those mercs who are after you? Khan has been selling them weapons. A lot of weapons."

"Including Atlas mechs," said Ashley. "What do they need that kind of firepower for?"

"Maybe they're using this ticket to bootstrap themselves," suggested Garrus. "I've seen things like this before. Some new merc group starts up, looking for a way to escape being limited to small-time security work. They need battlefield-level armaments and logistical support to do that, and those can be pretty damn expensive."

Shepard nodded. "So Cat-Six provides the muscle, but they need weapons and gear, and they hope to keep all of that when the job is done. Khan can provide weapons and gear, but he insists on being paid. Where does the money come from?"

"That would be our mysterious enemy," I said. "That faceless individual we've been seeing. He's the key to all this."

Just then Glyph came soaring into our midst, flashing a red alarm signal and overriding the table's holodisplay.

"Rrrh. It appears this drone is preparing to rebel," said Javik.

"What is it, Glyph?" I asked.

"As you requested, Dr. T'Soni, I have been monitoring Commander Shepard's personal codes. His Spectre access code has just been used at the Citadel Archives."

"Punch it up," ordered Shepard.

We saw a schematic of the Archives, spread out across the tabletop. Several sectors of the complex shone outlined in red, with more each moment.

"Something's putting the Archives into lockdown," said Brooks. "Whoever's hacking your records must be there right now."

Which suggests you want us to be there right now as well, I thought, exchanging a lightning-quick glance with Shepard.

"What do we know about the place?" he asked.

"Council keeps sensitive historical information there," said Garrus. "Real hush-hush stuff, some of it. Even my old C-Sec clearance never got me into the secured stacks."

Shepard nodded and turned away. "Then we'll find our own way in. Gear up and we'll . . ."

He stopped dead, just three steps away from the table, confronted by an apparition: a tubby little volus, holding out a broad, flat container of some kind.

"Uh, what's with the volus?"

James cleared his throat. "Oh. Pizza delivery. I didn't get a chance to eat at the casino, so I got the munchies."

"Double pepperoni," said the volus.

"These Archives are huge," said Brooks, paying no attention to the possibility of junk food. "You'll have a lot of ground to cover. Shame you can't bring everyone."

Unlike Brooks, I was in a position to see Shepard's face. I saw the sly smile that crept across his features.

Yet another helpful-but-not-really suggestion, Brooks?

"Who says I can't?" Shepard turned, grinned at all of us. "All hands on deck for this one."

"Hell yeah!" James smiled, loudly cracking his knuckles. "How you want this set up, Commander?"

Shepard glanced around the room. "Teams of four. Liara and Ash will be with me, plus one of Liara's people. We'll set up fire-team Alpha."

I caught Ashley's eye and felt an unaccountable rush of excitement.

The three of us together again, for the first time since we fought Saren on board the Citadel. I think our enemy has reason to fear.

"Garrus, Wrex, EDI, you form fire-team Bravo," he continued. "James, Javik, Brooks, you're fire-team Charlie. One more asari commando with each. Joker, Cortez, you're transport and logistics. Get the aircars ready and let's saddle up."

He turned away again. Saw the volus again, still waiting patiently.

"Oh. And somebody pay for the pizza."

25 May 2186, Citadel Archives, Lower Kithoi Ward/Citadel

"So what's the best way into the Archives?" asked Shepard.

"The facility is located below the Wards," said Brooks. "Maybe a direct breach for maximum surprise?"

"I like it," said Shepard, smiling genially to conceal his thoughts. "Sounds like you're learning the ropes, Brooks."

Cortez snorted. "Hell, hang out with us long enough, you'll learn ropes, knives, bombs, thresher maws . . ."

"Don't hang out too long, or pretty soon you'll start accumulating extra asari," rumbled Wrex over our tactical link.

"I heard that!" I complained.

We landed in a wide court at the very bottom of Kithoi Ward, tucked away among several industrial storage facilities. Fifteen of us emerged from a small fleet of aircars: six humans, four asari, a turian, a krogan, a Prothean, a synthetic mobile platform, and Glyph.

"The Archives are somewhere below us," said Brooks, consulting her omni-tool. "It could be pretty tricky to get in there."

"Not really," said James, reaching back into his aircar and producing the first of several demolition charges.

Within minutes, we had blasted a great hole in the deck plating.

"Krogan first!" shouted Wrex as he leaped down into the gap. "See you at the party, princesses!"

I moved second, landing right beside the big krogan and earning a gaping smile of approval. Then, for a moment, it seemed to rain leather-clad asari commandos. Finally, the rest of our assault group followed. Once all of us arrived in the access space, Shepard divided us into our planned fire-teams and we began to advance on the Archives.

Vara referred to her omni-tool, where she had loaded a detailed schematic of the Archives complex. "Small antechamber just ahead and below us," she whispered.

Teams Bravo and Charlie fanned out to either side. Shepard bent down and lifted a plate out of its frame, opening a gap through which he could leap down. I moved right behind him, Ashley and Vara mere seconds behind me. All of us looked around the chamber: an ordinary-looking office space, dominated by a large model of the Citadel itself, hanging from the ceiling.

Then, quite suddenly, we all began to glimmer with spots of ruby light.

I threw myself to one side. "It's an ambush!"

"Not this again," Shepard muttered. "Scatter and take cover!"

The chamber filled with gunfire. I peeked out of my concealment and saw black-clad mercenaries flooding into the room. More of the Cat-Six renegades. A lot more.

They knew we were coming.

"Hah!" barked Wrex from up on his balcony. "In the old days, we usually had at least five minutes before a mission went south!"

Shepard leaned out and fired his Claymore at one of the mercenaries. To little effect, as most of the blast scattered away from a dense kinetic shield.

"Shepard brought his whole team!" shouted one of the mercenaries.

"Box them in!"

I concentrated on staying alive. Our enemies moved quickly to flank us, so I couldn't count on my cover remaining of any use. Things moved much too fast for me to take stock. I fired my Shuriken and threw biotic warps at black-armored people, trying to sort out the bulky human figures from the lithe asari ones.

Shepard stood and flash-charged across the entire space, smashing into a black-clad sniper. The mercenary recoiled, still standing for a moment, but then Ashley hit her with a concussive shot and took her down.

"Eulalalalia!" came a high-pitched shriek from the balcony above. Nerylla.

My acolytes proved horribly effective, setting up lift-warp combinations to smash the enemy. I couldn't be sure, but I thought they even pulled Urdnot Wrex into their rhythm, detonating his biotic feats as well as their own.

"Damn! They brought asari commandos! Why don't we have asari commandos?"

"The same reason you don't have your own krogan, you pathetic varren," came a deep roar.

A Cat-Six mercenary screamed as he plummeted off the balcony, landing on the floor before us with a very final thump.

"Brooks!" came Shepard's voice over the comm. "You okay?"

"Upstairs! Scattering and taking cover!"

Another flash of blue-white light, as Shepard crossed the battlefield once more and smashed into a shield-carrying foe from behind.

"Enough!" came a great shout from above.

I glanced upward, and saw a bulky armored human, his forearm clamped around the throat of a smaller figure.

Brooks. He must have captured her in the firefight on the balcony. She struggled in his grasp, to no avail.

Shepard hesitated, just long enough for the enemy to seize their opportunity. They emerged from cover, far too many of them, covering all of us with their rifles.

"Put down your weapons, or this won't end well for her!" the human shouted.

Goddess. That voice! Now that it isn't covered by a distortion device . . .

"Yeah?" shouted Shepard. "Go ahead."

"What?" screamed Brooks.

"Go ahead," Shepard repeated. "Kill her. That won't stop me from doing what has to be done."

Silence from the balcony, except for the woman's increasingly desperate struggle. I nodded to myself, understanding Shepard's gambit.

"Of course, I'm betting you won't do it," he continued. "Either way, the ball's in your court. I don't give a damn, so long as you make up your mind."

"All right," said the mysterious figure. He threw Brooks to the ground before him, leveled his assault rifle, and fired a burst at her point-blank.

She shrieked, and then went utterly silent and motionless.

For a moment, I saw terrible doubt in Shepard's face.

Were we wrong about Brooks after all?

"Damn you," my bondmate said. "I don't know what you think you're getting away with, but there's nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide that we won't find you."

"Hide?" said the enemy, and suddenly I knew where I had heard his voice before. He stepped forward into the light for the first time. "I'm Commander Shepard. I never hide."

His shape, his face, all of it went with the voice.

It was Shepard. Like a brother. Like an identical twin.

"That's unexpected," I said in the sudden silence.