Chapter 50

The Presidium, The Citadel, June 2182

"Lt. Zorra claims that the Normandy needs to be repainted. As well as get an overhaul on its armor and propulsion systems. The silicate dust particles that we sucked up on our last mission have to be flushed from the engines before we can really get to peak performance again." Julia was saying, looking over a datapad and talking to him like he cared. "Then our problems will be solved, save for our mentors."

"You think that's the only problem we have?" Jenkins said. "Everyone onboard that ship doesn't think they're coming home again."

"What do you mean?" Julia asked, dropping the data pad and giving him a direct look.

He wasn't known for filtering what he said, and right now he figured that as a Spectre candidate he had some survivability and worth in the Alliance. "Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?" She nodded. "The problem is you. Our commanding officer is a freaking spook. You have no experience commanding a vessel, and it shows. The bridge crew and engineers are terrified that you're just spending your time cloaked, ferreting out spies or security threats. You're difficult to approach, and as a result all of your problems get pushed onto the XO, who has to push more of his duties onto his crew. Ma'am, you're the reason that Chakwas is issuing sleep aids to half the bridge crew."

Julia closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm simply following protocol."

"Yeah. That." Jenkins shuddered. "You've got a license to kill anyone you deem to be a threat to the Alliance, and you don't have to follow the rules of engagement regarding enemies. If you really were part of the Naval command structure, Ma'am, you would have been court martialed for that last mission."

"What do you mean, Jenkins."

"You killed everyone at that base. The civilians and noncombatants. Those Eclipse had children on that base, Commander. I know because I had to shoot down a truck full of them." Jenkins even brought out his Omni-tool to show her the pictures. "You ordered me to kill anything that moved. That included the people that we should have evacuated to safety out of principle!"

"They were a threat to the security of the mission. We could not risk word spreading of our ship." Julia said, not slouching or showing any signs of remorse.

"That! That right there is why the crew freaks out when you go by! You don't care about them, you don't care about their needs, their problems. You probably don't even know about Yervf nar Rayya's pending surgery! The crew thinks that you simply view them as tools. You don't care about anything other than the ship and the Alliance, Commander. With that kind of commanding officer, the crew is terrified that they'll be killed if they even apply for transfer."

She was quiet. But her eyes never left his. "You think you know better?"

"Damn right I do, Ma'am. I've seen good commanding officers, and you ain't one of them." Jenkins said, not afraid of possibly being killed for calling her out.

"Alright. You're off the mission." She declared. Her hands grasped a terminal in the sealed comm room within the Alliance Embassy. A connection was being made, and Jenkins started feeling his heart beat faster when he saw that Julia was using a priority line to connect to the Fifth Fleet. It went through, and the face of Admiral Steven Hackett filled the haptic display in front of them.

"Commander Constantine, Lieutenant Jenkins. What is the problem?" The Admiral did not mince his words.

"I would like to send Lt. Jenkins to command school, sir. He has volunteered to become the Normandy's new flag officer, and after a stiff evaluation process, I have found him to contain all of the qualities within the Alliance charter necessary for upstanding conduct."

Hackett pulled up Jenkin's file. He knew that because his records were already open on the terminal here, and he could see his files being edited. "Glad to hear you found a replacement, Commander. Due to the fight with the Rachni, I'm afraid that the only flag officer training occurring is at Arcturus Station. I'm approving this, Lieutenant. This is the first time that Commander Constantine has ever forwarded a name for promotion. Live up to that expectation." Admiral Hackett signed off on the transfer, and gave both of them a look. "Hackett out."

The comm line went dead. Julia just brushed off her hands and gave him a smile. "You're right, Jenkins. You're going to be promoted. From Staff Lieutenant to Lieutenant Commander. I am not the officer that the Normandy needs. But if you believe you know what it takes, I'll give you a chance to prove it."

"Wait, what about the Normandy? The mission? We're the candidates!"

"It'll take three weeks to flush out the silicates. Not to mention do an overhaul on the forward armor plating, where that cruiser hit us. The Normandy is out of the fighting for that long. You have until she is capable of flight again to make it through flag officer training."

Jenkins didn't even know what to say. "Um, ah, Thank you?"

"Don't thank me yet." Julia told him. "You have to prove yourself capable. Your shuttle that I made arrangements for leaves in the hour from Zakera dock 4-13. Good Luck, Lt." Julia then stood and saluted him. He just stood up, saluting her back.

"Yeah. Yeah! I won't fail, Ma'am!" He almost made an off color comment about relating his skills elsewhere, but managed to keep his mouth somewhat contained in that moment. "I'll prove you right, Ma'am!"

Julia watched as Jenkins disappeared from view. She grinned. Mentors were gone off doing whatever they liked to do, and Jenkins was going to get flag officer training. She could remain the AOI observer onboard the Normandy instead of its Commander, and Jenkins could take over as the face of the ship. She sighed in appreciation, as she liked the way her plan had gone out. Jenkins had walked into a situation where she could dump him on command school. Now she could meet with Miri and finally get to talk to her sister.

It had been three or four months since they could actually meet face to face. Now she had to meet with her again, unfortunately not for enjoyment. These meetings were the only things she had to really look forward to in life. She smiled at that and took in a deep breath.

Then her Omni-tool beeped. She saw a waiting message from Hackett. Commander Constantine, you have been ordered to commence an observation mission(close) in Arcturus Station, at the Flag Officer Candidate School. Please report as soon as possible and alert your current Spectre mentors that you will be unavailable for four to six weeks. Subjects of observation; Lt. Leeroy M. Massani-Jenkins; Lt. Shaighk Al-Omar Halmabad. Begin observation mission with the following Alias: Julia Constantine, Naval Lt. Commander. Details are up to you. Good Luck, Commander.

The report date for the mission was in two days. Hackett obviously felt that training as flag officers would be good for each of the Spectre Candidates. She didn't actually like that. But she could see his logic. Or the Alliance was just trying to keep the Human Spectre candidates from getting in too much more trouble. They had already offended their Turian mentors, obviously, along with the Asari Councillor if Desolous was to be believed.

Rather than go in person, she sent Spectres Vakarian and Arterius a notice that they had been called away on Alliance business, and may be busy for up to four weeks, more likely six. She got no notification that her message was received by either Turian. Oh well. Let them figure their own lives out. They had spent less than a full week together and it was more than enough to realize that they didn't mesh well. The crew wasn't meshing well. The combat team was near about the only thing that did mesh, and that was simply because everyone knew who they were.

Jenkins was right, at some level. She didn't like having to care about other people. It was draining in the extreme. Just talking to someone else in a social setting was tiring, but to actually seek out other people and talk to them for an extended amount of time was just too much. Her brain would clam up, and she would get headaches and have to go recover in some corner where no one would bother her until her brain no longer felt overwhelmed by the feelings and concerns of other people. It was much easier to just be a spook, an object in the background that people would gloss over, and forget was there when they opened their Omni-tools and did their work.

That was what an agent was supposed to do. Instead they had her traipsing around in broad view of everyone. It was against her basic training and directives to do so. She always protested it when they tried to bring her into the spotlight, or have her on high profile missions. She hated it.

She left the Alliance Embassy, getting a notification that Jenkins had made it to his chartered shuttle in less than twenty minutes. He must have been sprinting to the air car transit stations. She took her own air car, stepping off in the Zakera Ward's older districts. Here there were a mix of Turians, Batarians, and Humans. There was also a large storage center for locals to store objects. She had a few items here, and one small visit was enough. She emptied her storage unit, as she had shown up here on camera. Followers would come here for anything she had left.

The long boxes inside were simply a few things left over from an alias she used on the Citadel a few years ago. Right before Torfan. But she used them when she had to meet with Miranda. The boxes fit inside her air car, and she flew off to one of the many hotels in the area. She chose a Human one, as the Batarian hotels were usually bugged. Then she cleaned up the room she rented with a few sweeps of the Omni-tool, and then opened up the boxes. Hair dye, a hair dryer that was better than industry standard, and a few outfits that didn't deserve to go into a sea bag and get wrinkled. Or folded.

She started with the hair dye. Pure raven black hair, applied enough times that she would look almost perfectly like her sister. Then she opened up the main box, with the Asari designer clothes in it. This took somewhat more time to get into, and when she was done, gone was Alliance agent Julia Constantine. Her catsuit was folded and placed in her bag, inside a frictionless surfaced bag. No contacts were needed, and no fake Omni-tool was necessary. The silken Asari dress went on as expected, a near perfect fit. Julia had maintained her diet and hadn't lost weight. It was almost impossible for a biotic to gain any, so far as she had seen.

She had a holster for a magnetic strip placed on her thigh, and a small pistol was folded into the area. A knife was hidden on the other thigh, and the dress at least covered that much. But as she was to look like Miranda, Julia pulled open the cleavage gap as wide as it would go, and made sure that plenty of leg was flashed when stepping. The shoes were some Italian design meant to encourage attention. Some expensive jewelry, albeit small, completed the look. Julia looked up at the mirror, seeing the face of her sister there. Closing her eyes, she let the bland feelings of herself fade, and she focused on her sister's.

When her eyes opened again, it was with a winning smile, and a stance that invited men's stares. "Miranda Harper." She said to herself, adding the slight Asari lilting accent. Julia Constantine wasn't allowed to have fun, and Julia Constantine most certainly wasn't allowed to have a night on the town. That was what it meant to be an Infiltrator. To be able to walk into a room, impersonate someone, and then do whatever it was you were sent to do. Now was the only time that Julia ever felt like herself, when she became someone else.

She tossed her hair back over her exposed shoulders and sauntered out into the hotel lobby, grinning at the man behind the counter and walking past him with an extra shimmy of the hips. He would never remember Julia Constantine, but he would certainly remember Miranda. Her sea bag was placed in a drop box for herself later, when she could get back to it. For now, she just needed to disappear. As she neared the section of Zakera ward dedicated to restaurants and dancing clubs, the crowd swallowed her and she became just one of the normal people. Just a happy normal person on her way to a drink and perhaps a bit of fun.


Suen, Maskin Xul System, June 2182

"Kreana, get that shuttle in the air, get it anywhere but here!" Hannah roared, whipping around to Don and Henry. "You two, get that Rachni webbing and start pulling that beacon, let's move it!"

Don groaned from his position. "If you can rig it to a harness, I can pull it, boss. But my arms are ruined. We gotta wait a few weeks for them to be able to even use a wrench." If that. Acid did strange things to Krogan. When she turned to the burning corpse of the Rachni Brood Warrior, she could see Henry dragging himself out of the wreckage, helmet askew and one of his arms limp at his side.

"Bastards damaged the arm." Was all that Henry said. The smell of melted cybernetics and synthetic skin was a thick one, and glancing at Henry showed that he wasn't doing well. His armor had been split open from hip to shoulder, with the shoulder being where the Brood warrior must have plunged his taloned appendage into the man. Sparking cybernetics showed in the wound, and along the upper ribcage. "May have damaged my lung's casing."

She grimaced. Henry's right arm had been torn apart by Batarians on Torfan. He had been left for dead, and some of the freed slaves picked him up and carried him off to be taken on one of the last medical transports to leave the station. The gigantic mess that followed led to that medical vessel being 'lost' and the highly useful cargo in the form of Alliance marines and freed slaves were all offered a deal. Join Crucible, or be returned to their normal lives. Henry had been one of the N5 soldiers on Torfan, and had been betrayed by some sort of rival or commanding officer. He didn't mention it much.

Jack had repaired his body, using advanced medicine and the best tech. Henry was only part of Crucible, so he wasn't aware of Ilos or its technological breakthroughs. All that he knew was that his arm and shoulder joint were able to arm wrestle a Krogan. His armor was going to be written off, the poor suit covered in napalm and acid and goodness knew what else. "You're going to need help climbing."

He didn't reply immediately. "We've got some pitons. That'll help."

"How the hell are we going to carry this thing out of here?!" She asked. "Liara, I need a solution!"

"Then I shall provide one." The Asari said, poking at the beacon. "The great enemy cannot have this. They would find the way to Ilos, and from there lead us to ruin." She opened a panel in the back with her biotics, and pressed a few buttons. The beacon just started glowing, and Liara grinned. "The beacon will overheat and all of its information will be lost within minutes. It also will not explode, and we might be able to recover it later."

She gave a glare at the Asari. "Not the thing to worry about! Help Don!" She glanced over at Shev'rash. "You, help Henry get out of here. That Reaper will be looking for blood."

Kreana couldn't get the shuttle off the ground. It was too damaged from the crash and wasn't the best shuttle in the first place. But she did recover the comm relay from it, as well as its black box and navigation records. They all limped along the tunnel leading back, using pitons and magnetic rail cables to slowly bring the wounded down.

"Kitty Cat, This is little Dog." Her comm sounded. "We've hidden ourselves on the dark side of the planet. You stay in cover and we'll pick you up when we can."

"Understood. Have the G-2 take cover." The Acheron could remote control the GRIZZLY vehicle and have it take cover in some cave or plant area. The Reaper would be able to see that vehicle sitting outside the mining tunnel and perhaps hack into its databanks or some other form of damaging problem.

"Roger that, and good luck." The comm line went dead, and Hannah dipped down into the underground chambers. It took most of the fifteen minutes they had to carefully lower Don and Henry down to the lower level. Henry and Don's weapons were carried by Kreana, who left the Napalm launcher behind. It was ruined, anyways.

Everyone knew when the Reaper landed. The entire mountain shook. They were just barely getting Don hooked up the the next piton system, when the rocks started shifting. Don quickly unhitched himself and everyone stepped back into the main chamber where the beacon had been stored.

"Liara, do any of these tunnels go deeper?" Hannah asked. "Or into another section of Prothean ruin?"

"Rachni were known to tunnel for a great many miles, but the remainder of the Prothean collection base would not have been in a stable position. Perhaps a few chambers and hallways, or perhaps another collapsed tunnel. From the blueprints I have received, there shouldn't be much left. If that Reaper sends down anything, from my memories we will be facing more numbers and weapons than we can handle."

Hannah grimaced as the Prothean memory markers in her mind went off in response to the thoughts of a Reaper landing. Legions of faceless husks, blue wires trailing from eye sockets and jaws. "Wait, I've got an idea." She pointed at the gigantic pillar that had housed the Prothean beacon. "Liara, think you could operate those doors?"

The Asari smiled. "Of course. We can conceal our presence there." They gathered the wounded, and laid them down inside the vault, Shev'rash and Kreana policing the area and grabbing a few of the Rachni weapons and making sure that they had left no signs of their entry. Then, using biotics from both Shev'rash and Liara, they brought the doors closed.

"Let's hope the Reaper gives up after a few hours."

"We both know that isn't likely." Liara replied.

"Then I guess we have to hope that someone gets the bastard's attention away from this place."

Kreana held up her Omni-tool's feed. "I have left a few motion sensors and vid cams in the main chamber so that we wouldn't be completely blind."

"How much food do we have?" She asked everyone, especially Shev'rash. The Quarian was the most difficult to keep fed.

"Seven days for each of us." Henry grumbled. "As is standard."

"The bigger problem is the lack of booze!" Shev'rash stated. "I've got one fifth left and that won't make it a week! We've gotta call the Acheron and tell them to bring more alcohol."

"Or you know, rescue us and get us back to the ship." Don replied. "That would be great."

"I sent a message to Jack. We'll see if he comes through or not. If not, we will have to wait long enough for Don to be able to shoot at least a pistol. Then we fight our way out of here." Jack hadn't failed to come through for her before. But this was a damn Reaper. Kreana's motion sensors started reading movement, and the entire team got quiet, as the numbers of enemies moving outside got into the dozens.


The Danger Zone, Zakera Ward, The Citadel June 2182

The club was one popular with the military. Especially the Navy. Julia gave a winning grin as she walked in the door, running her arm down the bicep of the man on duty there. The bouncer didn't even stop her to check for anything, he simply gave her a grin and let her into the club. Stepping inside, she let out a deep breath. Anyone following her should have lost her as she went through the crowd and cloaked. Then she went up six floors to this place and decloaked in the alleyway outside. Then, it was into the club.

An old F-35 American fighter jet floated above the dance floor, its engines looking active and putting out a bit of light. All haptic displays, really. The old fighter plane was suspended using Element Zero and a few tension cables. The ruined cockpit of an Alliance Tempest Space Superiority fighter was where the DJ ran his music, the dashboard of displays having been converted to a music station.

The bar went all around the rest of the ruined fighter, the insides gutted to make room for beer and brandy bottles. The floor was open, a larger space set up for dancing that Humans favored. Booths and seating for people circled the floor, with rising balconies fitting more booths that were more traditional seating. Old fighters and art depicting the old technology was all over the bar, with each of the haptic interfaces being controlled via joystick in the booths. Food was ordered through that.

Julia didn't go directly to the bar. She started into the dance floor, bumping and grinding her way through it for a short while to stay where she could see the door. After ten minutes, she didn't feel like anyone suspicious followed her in. But she had earned plenty of male attention. She almost froze when she saw who finally had the guts to approach her.

"Hey." The man said, coming up to her. "Want to dance?"

"Sure!" She said with some excitement. Julia offered her hand to Kaidan Alenko, his uniform slightly unbuttoned and his hair looking better than normal. Most women would take any chance to jump onto the dance floor with Lt. Alenko. He was famous, after all. "Are you the real thing, or just some impersonator?"

Kaidan grinned, and glowed with his biotics. Not even looking at the direction he threw his arm out to, he kept his eyes on her as two cups of golden honey colored liquid floated back over to them. They rotated around each other, coming to a rest in his hand. "Oh yeah."

Julia had seen a few notes on file that Alenko was overly flirtatious when off duty, but that was amazing. She hadn't tried that kind of biotic move, and Julia had to admit that she had to respect what Warpball had done for the good lieutenant. "You got a name?"

Julia took a sip of her drink, grinning at the taste. It wasn't the tasteless cheap bear that most of the marines liked to pay for. "Call me Em." Miranda was cheeky with men. Julia was cold.

Kaidan smirked. he gave a jaunty wave to the Titans, where they were sitting with other members of the Marines and a few dates. Julia finished her drink, not worried about being able to process it. Being a biotic had its benefits. Alenko took a few more seconds to drain his drink, probably to act more 'human' around others.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be out fighting Rachni?" She asked.

"Our ship just recently returned from a mission. I can't share many of the details, but I can safely say that we are coming closer to stopping the Rachni threat." Kaidan oozed confidence. If she had been a civilian it would have been quite calming. With her prior knowledge, though, she knew better.

"You can't tell anything?"

"Not until the press conference." He said, glancing at the empty glasses. Then he offered his arm for a dance. Very old fashioned. But Julia was a little bit happy that she could get away with this. She may have delayed her own departure by dancing with Kaidan for the next twenty minutes, ignoring a chime on her Omni-tool.

"You going to get that?" Kaidan asked.

"Tempted not to, I think." She really was.

"Well, if you want, you can join us for a Titans-only drinking game." Kaidan said with a swagger of his eyebrows. "I promise you it'll be a unique experience." She gave a glance at her Omni-tool and saw that it was just a reminder. It wasn't from Miri. Though she wouldn't send her a notification.

"I'd like that, actually."

The drinking game was actually fun. The rules were simple. Everyone had a long straw, and one shot glass of liquid. Someone would throw a singularity into the mix, and the drinks and liquid inside would start floating upwards. Everyone had until the singularity fell apart to drink their liquid portion before it fell to the ground. Extra points were gained if you could steal someone else's drink.

With all of the Titans and their dates, this meant that the tiny table they sat at was cramped full of people. Julia practically draped across Kaidan's lap when the game started, and by the end of three rounds had wormed her way right into it. It just sort of happened. She was pulled from the game when her Omni-tool started beeping insistently.

"I think that's my friends." She offered to Kaidan. "Are you here long?"

"I'll be here tomorrow night about this same time, Em." He said, grinning. "Here's my comm line. If the guy calling your Omni-tool isn't a great experience, you know where to find us." Then, like magic, he shared with her his private comm address. She knew it was his private one because she kept track of that sort of thing. She smiled as she got up off of his lap, noticing his eyes drifting to her exposed upper leg.

"You'll be the first to know, Mr. Alenko." She told him, making her hips swivel a bit more as she walked away. She knew for a fact that he watched her walk away. Every other man in the vicinity did. The Omni-tool notification was a notice from the bar. Undaunted, she came up to the ruined fighter plane and sat down at the end of the bar. The man next to her wiggled his eyebrows at her, but she gave him no attention.

"Good to see you again, Miss." The English accent came in. She grinned, a real grin. The face of their old family pilot greeted her. James Hansen. He had aged a bit, but not much. He looked the immortal age of thirty that most Humans with gene mods for longevity did, and was wearing a nice suit. James was one of the owners of this place, putting his money that he earned from Jack all those years ago to good use.

"You too, James." She replied. "I was wondering if the back room was ready."

"Of course it's ready. Just sent a plate of ribs back there for you." He glanced behind her. "You got some admirers, this time." James said. "It's not like you to have that kind of attention." He pressed a button on his Omni-tool, and a part of the wall slid open near the bar. She slid a credit chit over to her old pilot and grinned. Though as soon as she stepped into that hallway, and the door closed, she lost her grin. The hallway was deserted, except for one door on the left. She came to a stop right before it, and pulled the dress a bit more conservatively around herself. Her demeanor shifted, and she reached out towards the wall opposite the existing door. She put a small measured amount of force on the door, which opened seamlessly.

"Are you seeing this?" She could hear someone saying.

"I see you all over Mr. biotic beefcake. Doesn't he have orders to capture anyone from Crucible that he can?" Julia recognized that voice.

"That's not me, though."

"That's your sister?!" Julia stepped loudly into the comm room, seeing Miranda sitting in a chair and Kasumi on screen. She hadn't seen her quasi-Japanese friend in a long time. Mostly due to her becoming a very important art collector. "Magical Girl San! You're actually wearing a dress!" Kasumi squealed. The comm screen showed the Japanese girl grinning wildly, her hair tightly tied into a bun and wearing a conservative business suit. "A very Miranda appropriate one, too!"

"I don't dress down like that all the time, Kasumi." Miranda said. She was wearing a set of comfortable gear. Some sort of exercise pants and shirt that would be nice for a day at the spa or on vacation. True to Miranda's style, the pants were near skin tight and the cleavage window was ever present. "I just wanted you to see proof that Julia can act like a real woman sometimes."

"Alright Ms. Ice Queen. You're both no fun. Next time you both are on Omega, or Illium, oh we are going to have so much fun!" Miranda rolled her eyes and ended the call. Then she got up and came over to Julia, looking her over and glancing at a new scar that had been revealed by the exposed arms of the dress.

"Julia." She said, hugging her. It always felt odd that Miranda did this. But Julia hugged her back, albeit awkwardly. Only after they had been separated had they begun hugging like this. "I was so worried about you when they said that you were going to become a Spectre candidate."

"I'm more worried about the other ones, to be honest." She said. "Anderson is dead, Halmabad is coming out of the hospital in a few weeks, and Jenkins is naive." She sighed, and sat down in one of the comfortable couches that was in the room. "Sorry I called you in here."

"Don't be." Miranda said. "Dad's disappeared for the last six months, and only Charles knows where he went. It was getting rather boring, just running the company without any real threats moving at us."

Julia gave her a level stare. "How's Mum?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Allison is actually out trying to help an anonymous donor from the Alliance. They want to investigate some of the old Rachni worlds." Miranda said, biting her lip. "But I don't like it."

"How's your girlfriend?" Julia asked.

Miranda smiled. "Still interesting. She had to return to her family's home on Astaria due to Rachni attacks." She touched the screen, bringing up a camera angle of Julia in Kaidan's lap, using her straw to try to steal some of Kaidan's floating drink. "Isn't there rules against this sort of thing?"

Julia smirked. "Ah, but he gave his comm address to 'Em'." She looked closer at the picture. She actually looked like she was having fun. "If you want, you can go back over to him."

Miranda took a long look. "I'll keep that in mind. Elsaenrae doesn't mind if I date other people, so long as she gets the memories or is included." She looked over Julia's outfit. "I think he's more your type, though."

"I don't have a type."

"Kasumi thinks you do."

"Kasumi should not look into other people's secrets."

Miranda snorted. "It would take me too long to get into that outfit. Didn't I buy that for you, what, three years ago?"

"Four years. I've kept it since then." Julia admitted.

"It suits you. I keep telling you and Allison to skip the catsuits and wear real clothes sometimes." She tsked. "You said you needed my help. Obviously not fashion, or trouble with men."

Julia nodded. She transmitted a copy of some of the data they had taken from Neilana T'y'tella's ship. "This is the Asari that we've been chasing. She's a clanless from Astaria. No relation to Elsaenrae. She was responsible for shipping some of the Rachni to Eden Prime."

"An Asari working with the bugs?" Miranda scowled. "Despicable."

"We have two mentors as full Spectres. One of them stepped on the Council's toes when we interrogated Neilana. He got in trouble for even mentioning it, but it was an Asari word that my VI isn't familiar with." Julia brought up the Asari lettering. "Er-ia-shi."

"Eriashi?" Miranda asked, sounding them out. "I've not heard much about that. There was a Matriarch spoken of in legend that was called Eria. Benezia mentioned that there was some religious cult by that name that was wiped out by the Athame followers somewhere around the time that Asari first achieved FTL capabilities."

Julia nodded. "I wanted to get as much on that as I could. If you could ask Benezia more about it, that would help." She glanced away. "Such a connection would raise all kinds of warning flags from the Alliance."

"That it would." Miranda grinned. "Still, you're here now. How much time do you have off the grid?"

"Less than two hours." Every agent was required to check in after a certain amount of time. She hadn't missed a check in in her entire career, barring the Torfan incident. "Where are those ribs?"

Biotics needed to eat. Being a female biotic meant that Julia and Miranda could eat however they wished. So long as their body had enough calories to burn, they would be fine. But Miranda and Julia had been the same waist size since they were eighteen. They literally destroyed the entire rack of ribs, the potatoes, and the designer salad. Bar food wasn't the highest quality, but what it lacked in quality it made up for in portion size.

"James should get a fat tip." Julia muttered, as soon as the food was suitably destroyed, and their forks picked over the remains. "Or at least an anonymous donation."

"I'll see what we can give him." Miranda said. "Where do you have to be when you check in?"

Julia sighed. "The embassy. My bags are in the Marine barracks below it. I have to go back and return to my normal appearance."

Miranda's Omni-tool beeped. She glanced at it, and just want back to Julia. It was one thing that she liked about her sister. She always paid attention to her, and gave her full focus on Julia when they were around each other. When her tool beeped again, showing an angry red glare, Miranda actually had to turn to it. "My apologies." She said, pressing a button. Her face paled. "Julia, Hannah's ship just was reported as MIA."

Miranda never called her Hannah. She always called her by the alias. "Am I allowed to know?" Julia asked, seeing Miranda bite her lip.

"Yes and No." Miranda said. "But damned if I don't tell you. My best combat team went down there with her."

"Where?"

Miri transferred some of the files to Julia's wrist. "Suen. Rachni homeworld. One of our donors found the remains of a Prothean ruin down there. Allison was sent in there to recover some objects."

"Going to sell them on the Black Market?"

Miranda did not answer directly. "The donor wanted something from Suen specifically. No idea on if we would have sold too much. All that I know is that the ship on station went quiet, and then every other comm relay in the system went down. My ship is just a courier craft, but I know that you might have something that can help."

"You want me to go save her?" Julia asked. "The Alliance would never-"

"The Alliance can go to Hell!" Miranda yelled. "Hannah Shepard is one of the few people you care about, and I'm asking you to help her. I don't know what took her ship out, or what happened, but I know that you might be able to help."

Julia closed her eyes. "I would need a damn reliable source of evidence to give the Alliance just reason to deploy my ship."

Miranda nodded. "Done. You get what you need, I'll get my people on it." She hugged her again, Julia looking awkwardly at the comm console. "I'm sorry about David."

"I'll need to gather my crew, then." Julia didn't want to talk about David Anderson. She was going to be fine, they had ended their relationship years ago. But it still felt a little raw. Sighing and turning her head away from Miranda, she turned her thoughts to current problems. Jenkins had just hopped on a shuttle and the Normandy was halfway to Elysium. Her mentors wouldn't even care about this. Perhaps she could do this without them. "Miranda, if I find any artifacts in our hold,"

"Whatever, they're yours. My people are more important at the end of the day." She was actually worried. Miranda was visibly worried about this. She wasn't worried like this unless something big was on the line. "Get out of here so I can make some calls." Miranda said, digging into a bag to find some sort of nice shirt to wear and look professional when she called other people. One of the few things that always impressed her about her father was his standards for how he presented himself to other people.

Returning to the noise of the club made her realize that she didn't have a lot of time. She needed to get back to a comm relay that was safe, and contact the Normandy. It would highlight this place as one of her safe houses if she called from here. She stepped back towards the bar, seeing James give her a nice smile. She gave him one back, and then stepped into one of the vid cam dead zones. There were a few in this place, and she had helped James set up all of them. Then, she cloaked.

Slipping through crowds while wearing heels and a nice dress was easy when all the men wanted to let you through. Doing the same while wearing heels and trying to be invisible and quiet was another story altogether. Thankfully the music was loud, and she was able to get right up to the table where the Titans were sitting. Kaidan was still sitting alone, and they were playing some game of biotic Jenga. It had been a fun exercise while at Solaris, and apparently playing it while drunk constituted as quite a fun game.

That ended when she decloaked in view of everyone. All of the Titans reacted lightning quick, their hands raised in a mnemic to use a Throw. "Atten-hut!" She took a stance herself, but the heels made her look ridiculous. The Titans and all of their dates followed, most of them being in the Navy themselves. "Lt. Alenko, I have just received intelligence on some Rachni activity." She almost went into Miranda's voice pattern. It was hard not to, when she was dressed like her. "Mount up." Alenko had recognized her after a moment, seeing her eyes and the way she was standing. When he recognized her as the same woman that had been on his lap, she could see his eyebrows flatten.

"Yes, Ma'am." His biotics flashed, and he took a look around. "Titans, let's move out." There were a couple of grumbles, but all of them took one look at her and decided to keep mostly quiet. The louder grumblings were from the women who had come to the table. Heels clicking and hips swivelling, she led the way out of The Danger Zone.

"What's going on, Commander?" Rahna asked. She was just in her fatigues, and she looked a bit flushed.

"I've spent the last few hours meeting with contacts. I have a lead for us." She said. "I apologize for ending your leave time early."

Lt. Alenko, along with all of the other men of the Titans, kept level stares at her face instead of her cleavage and nodded. "It's alright Ma'am. You'll need your ground team."

Biotics could process alcohol faster than other people, so after a bit of water the entire squad was back to full sobriety. Uniforms were buttoned and their fatigues were in place. Marines may have been able to do that faster, but it was fast enough. She walked with them, walking like Miranda would. It was impossible not to, really. Not to mention she didn't feel any kind of problem with making Alenko uncomfortable.

The air car terminal outside of the Danger Zone was full of people getting off. Alenko ordered the team to split up, allowing him to take a single air car with Julia. She didn't bother cloaking. She just acted suitably non military, mixing with the crowd. He even held the door open for her, acting like a real gentleman. But the moment the door closed, he got tense.

"Ma'am, were you evaluating us?" He asked. When the Alliance Office of Intelligence evaluated someone, it was usually because they were being suspected of some sort of crime. He looked very worried. Most people that were evaluated were also halfway convicted of a crime already.

"I was not, actually." She said. "Though I did not intend to be forced to reveal myself."

"Then why did you approach us?" Kaidan seemed offended somehow. "Why didn't you tell me off?"

"Do you have a problem with my decision to go to that club, Lt. Alenko?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why you were all over me, Ma'am." Julia gave him the coldest look she could. He didn't even flinch. "I don't like it when people manipulate me, Ma'am. None of us do."

He was asking what her intentions were. He wasn't supposed to know about Miranda, but she needed a reason as to why she was out in that club looking like this. "If you must know, I had come to meet with my contact. I didn't know that you were there, and it would have broken cover to refuse you."

He sputtered a bit. "What? How would saying no break your cover?"

She lifted one of her eyebrows and gave a long glance at her dress. "Looking like this, Alenko, it is almost an invitation to look and to feel. I didn't say no because it would have been suspicious."

"So, 'Em' was just a cover?"

"Somewhat." She answered. If he ever met Miranda, she didn't want this to be how he viewed her. "I am currently looking like an alias that I maintain. This alias also has a job, as well as a few other details about her life that are modeled after what I am actually skilled at." He wouldn't think of the alias as her family member with that kind of explanation.

"So, you weren't there to evaluate us. Nor were you there to just oversee us."

She huffed, noticing Kaidan's gaze dipping. The man could be manipulated, at some level, if he could be rattled by her flirting. "Believe it or not, Alenko, I had a bit of fun. None of this will go on any record I file, nor will I talk about this. I want to maintain my alias' privacy as much as I can."

Kaidan had locked his eyes back on her face by the time she had finished speaking. "You had fun, Ma'am?"

"Yes." She said grudgingly. "The drinking game was especially creative."

"Then I hope next time you come as yourself, uh, Commander." He seemed a bit worried.

"Are you asking me to come with your team on the next shore leave?"

"With me specifically, Ma'am." He said, puffing his chest out a little bit.

She leaned forward, letting him feel slightly uncomfortable. His eyes had to make a very difficult choice as to what he was going to look at, but he held his gaze on her nose."You must have balls of steel to dare to ask your commanding officer out, Lieutenant." She could see beads of sweat at the corner of his forehead. But he wasn't thinking about her alias now. It would keep the rest of the team away from Miranda if she maintained this connection. That was how her brain rationalized this. This wasn't about how fun that was, not at all. "I will let you know within 24 hours of the next shore leave as to my answer. Perhaps during that time I might be moved into the Naval command structure and a decision like this will become illegal. We most certainly don't want that, do we?"

"Ah, no Ma'am." He said carefully.

She leaned back now that he was suitably cowed. "I am leaning towards accepting, however in light of decisions to be made by command during that time, I will hold off on that choice until we get closer." She could actually feel herself smiling a bit. As a result she schooled her features and relaxed her cheeks. She didn't want him to know that she was actually excited. But Kaidan looked positively happy. She gave him a terse look, and he managed to contain his eagerness the rest of the air car ride. She figured that it was only a matter of time before the Titans would know that their captain had scored a date.

But this protected Miranda. At her core, Julia would keep her sister safe. Even if that meant accepting a date from Lt. Alenko. Especially if she accepted anything from Kaidan Alenko. There was a significant part of her that wanted to rationalize this. But at the same time she had to depend on these same men and women to trust in her leadership, and she couldn't have anyone questioning her orders.

On the other hand, having Kaidan Alenko under her thumb allowed her some measure of control over the crew. Out of everyone onboard, it was between him, Pressley, and Jenkins for those capable of rallying any movement among the crew. There was an emotional part of herself that agreed with this. But the decision was mostly logic. After she came to this decision, she made sure that Kaidan's attention was on her more than his squadmates as they left the air car terminal. When they reached the barracks, and split, only Rahna walked with her into the locker rooms. Normally marine barracks were unisex, but here on the Citadel things were more established. Civilians were sometimes housed here, and they did not enjoy the public facilities.

Julia washed out the black hair dye, and then used some of her personal supply of shampoo to make sure that her hair didn't go into shock from the experience of being dyed temporarily. Then it was back to a tight bun and her catsuit, pistol out in the open and knives tucked in a few places. Looking over her appearance, she tried to muster some of the feelings of happiness that she had earlier, but the feelings had already faded. The cold grip of duty had returned, and with a deep breath she cloaked and went outside to go wait for the teams to report to the shuttle bay.


Garrus sat in his father's office, spinning the old OSD's that were still kept in the desk. He really shouldn't have yelled at the Humans like that. But that spirits-blessed Human just had to open his big mouth. Jenkins, someone that he wanted to scrape with his talons. Not as badly as that pacifist Alenko, or Desolous. Spirits, he wanted to yell and scream and debate with everyone and everything.

Which was the primary reason he hadn't left the office. He was stewing and grumbling, and he wasn't in a very good mood. Councillor Volorium, that shady half skulled upper tier waste of air, had just been there to create a rift between the Humans and the Asari. As well as the Humans and the Turians. Mentioning Shangxi, getting Jenkins riled up in response to realizing that Desolous had probably given his personal authorization on the orbital strikes that killed his family and thousands of others. Any of the Humans could have taken offence, but Julia thankfully did not.

Julia Constantine. Dangerous, for certain. Unpredictable when she decided to make decisions outside the direct realm of her protocols. Perfect for what Desolous had truly intended to turn Garrus into. But as a Tarn, he didn't have the right mindset for proper public service. The anthem for the Hierarchy, 'Die for the Cause' may have been his favorite song, but that was only because it was the only song that he felt brought him closer to his ancestors. He didn't have cousins. He was a rarity among Turian society, with no family to pass his name onto except his Sister, who was being propositioned by all of the wrong people.

Desolous was off doing who knew what and he didn't care a single bit. Spending so much time with the old man was decidedly odd, anyways. Maybe he was looking for a reason to get off the Normandy. Or maybe that Asari really was murdered. Desolous had always blamed the Asari for not letting adequate justice be dealt to the Humans. Poor bastard lost everything trying to get a war started back on with the Humans, and then he gave the spirits-cursed order to fire on the Temple of High Wisdom.

Garrus had only asked what happened once that day. Desolous still blamed the Humans about it. He didn't want to explain himself, nor did he ever eloquate on the subject. All of this was messed up. Humans just kept piling more and more people into that tiny frigate, and sooner or later it was going to lose some critical part.

He rubbed the oldest-looking OSD, seeing some nearly completely faded writing on the side. He held up the small data disc, glancing at its contents. Grimacing, he hooked it up to the terminal built into the desk, and the little OSD started running. It had been years since he had even opened it.

"Human!" The voice of his father wailed, making Garrus flinch. He had forgotten that it was on repeat at this section. He paused the recording, before his father would break down into injured breathing and rasping. He reeled back the recording past his father's dying pronouncement, and came back to some of his earlier words in his last interrogation. "Are you part of Eriasha?" He found the word. Searching his father's OSD located no other reference to the word. But his father knew what it was. He just let the rest of the recording start playing. "An Asari with burnt hands was recently held responsible for the massacre of an entire village." That line stuck out to him, leading him to have his Omni-tool look for massacres or villages disappearing within the last fifty years.

While he waited for that to complete, there were other places he could investigate. He opened his father's drawers, dust rising. He had read through some of his printed files once, back when he was a teenager. None of it had particularly made much sense then. His father was one of those odd Turians that liked to read from words printed on carbon based materials. Like the ancients used to do.

Some of his files were on old data pads and some of his awards were in this file cabinet as well. Mostly awards given for doing a good job, for never missing a day of work, and especially for his work with his old Legion. There were a lot of rewards in here too, old gifts that his father had stoically tossed into the drawer to be hidden. He chuckled as he upended the drawer onto the top of the desk, credit chits spilling everywhere from some hidden corners. "That would have been nice to know the location of ten years ago." He muttered. "Thanks dad."

A few thousand credits in chits, some food vouchers long expired, along with one voucher to meet with the Consort. Those did not expire, and Garrus placed that one to the side where he could access it later. If for nothing else than to make Desolous gray with envy. The awards and other gifts he placed on the floor, gently. He might return some of them to his father's burial marker back on Palaven.

The old files had changed color slightly, and Garrus had to put on a pair of gloves in order to handle them without his scales scratching things up. Some of them were case files from incomplete investigations, or from politically dangerous investigations that could never be completed. He whistled at one of them, regarding the old Turian Councillor, Sparatus. Spirits, the man had lots of bones in his file. Sparatus had no qualms about removing threats to the Turian Hierarchy, blatantly abusing his Council authority to send Spectres and STG squads into Blackwatch colonies. It explained much about how the relationship between them and the Hierarchy was so shaky.

He marked that one to be placed in the Spectre Archives. They could do some good with it, at least. Not to mention it might earn him some good press with some of the other Spectres. It was an open secret that the Spectre program had no real limitations. But if the Council didn't like you as their Spectre, you knew it. They would 'retire' Spectres that caused them too much trouble, or tell them that they needed to go into an extended 'investigation' onboard Friess Station. So Garrus always was on the lookout for ways that he could improve his standing.

The last few files were still vid cam shots. Shots of his mother, standing in the atrium of the family estate. He didn't open any more of those. It felt too much like desecrating his father's memory. Especially as his mother was standing and walking in those still images. It hurt more to consider that.

"Dad, you really should help me out." He muttered. "I'm paired with a bunch of pyjaks that don't even know how to talk to a politician." He stretched his legs, his toes still locked into his armor. "Where in the spirits did you keep everything?"

This office was where his father spent most of his time. Garrus was only invited here once as a child, and it was more of a disciplinary moment than anything else. He rarely came in here since. Sighing, he started to put the drawer back into its slot. When it caught on something, he stopped. He wasn't a small person anymore, and his father had been near about the same height. He tried to reach inside to figure out what was blocking the drawer, but his hands were far too large.

Glancing around, he grinned slightly. He had always dreamed of doing this to his father, disturbing his always so meticulously ordered desks. With a cackle he overturned the entire desk, the papers he had looked over going all over the place. The thump was loud enough to be deeply satisfying.

He gave a keening noise of joy as the bottom of the drawer housing looked slightly repaired. Omni-gel was meant to take the color of whatever it bonded to, but over time those bonding elements might deteriorate. After ten years the repair mark had showed rather than faded. Garrus carefully cut the hole open again, and found a small space cleared out inside with a couple of OSDs and a small bag of evidence reports.

He checked the lock on the door before righting the desk and sitting down again. The desk looked so sterile that he moved some of the papers haphazardly over the space, to make it feel like his own before he started. The first OSD popped in, and showed up as empty. A scan for encryption showed that it was keyed to a certain scanning tool.

Grumbling, he dug up his father's old Omni-tool and booted it up, inserting the OSD and activating the old security systems that verified the wearer. There was only a vid file on this OSD. He queued it up, the haptic display showing an old crime scene.

"He was killed using some sort of aerosol poison. Materials from the planet below." An examiner was in the room, along with two members of the MP legion. His father was there, he realized. "Spirits, this is bad. What are we going to tell the General?"

"What will the Council do once they find out?" His father's gravelly voice asked. "I've got a blood sample over here."

"We don't have access to much of their health network data, Vakarian. Nothing we can do with that right now. Ice it."

Garrus watched twenty other crime scenes pass by, each time his father recorded the finding of hair particles, skin particles, and in one other instance a diluted blood sample. But the connection was clear. Twenty one murders that his father was able to chain to a single Human Assassin, across a decade and a half. Murder method was clean, aerosol poisonings, and their targets were of both genders of multiple races. The bag held all of the collected evidence. The OSD ended with a clear connection to the Human Ambassador. Enough to almost start an investigation.

The second OSD worked, but much of its data was older and slightly corrupted. It was a typed out marker for different Asari worlds and places. All of the investigation here focused on tracking down a Mirala Ti'renlaaue. Notes from his father indicated that this was just an alias, and that the true identity of the target was what he was after. The OSD was mostly from secondhand sources in Asari space, passed on to his father. But there was one clear source. It was a chain of vid mails from Ambassador Tevos to different invited guests to some party. The current Asari Councillor had been grooming Tevos at the time, and Tevos' guest list had included Mirala. But the OSD ended there.

"Stranger and stranger." The third OSD had the smallest data file set. It was a recording. Queueing it up, he could see his father sitting at this very desk, with everything placed in their exact positions.

"Garrus." He blinked. "I've keyed this to you. Or your son. Spirits know that the enemies I am chasing will outlive us all." His father's image looked tired, and this recording was dated for the same day as his death. "I've stepped on too many toes. I was approached by Spectre Tela Vasir this morning, who told me that the Asari Republics will take my investigation well in hand, and bring Mirala to justice. I didn't request them to do this and how they found out about my investigation in the first place is spirits-damning."

His father closed his eyes. "I'm sending my data forward, but I am saving all of this under my desk for future notice. Thankfully you followed my instructions on finding these discs. Hopefully it's not too late in your life that you checked my private vault." Garrus gulped. He had considered it too grave an action, to disturb his father's property. He stored it in their family vault, and his mother never touched his things. Garrus made a mental note to go poke at his father's things. "Mirala has killed hundreds of other Asari and a few others. I was first clued into her when we found a dead Hanar in a shuttle. Asari particles and fluids were everywhere, and the Hanar died from his nervous system nearly exploding. We've traced this to multiple counts of deaths of supposedly natural causes all over Council Space. I had sent one of my partners to investigate this mess, but he never came back."

"Garrus, if you're hearing this then you've been drawn into an old web, where the acranth is waiting for anything to disturb it, or get caught. Mirala can kill within range of sight. You aren't a biotic, and you won't be able to stop her yourself. I'm going into this party tonight, and I'm going to finally track her down and get some answers. If I don't get them, you've got everything I was able to find here. Worse, she's not the only one of these murderers. The Asari government made them. Or something. Spirits, I couldn't find out much. Desolous Arterius knows as much about them as I do, and even he wasn't able to find out more." Pontus Vakarian looked closely at the vid feed. "You're a Tarn. You can't die. Our family has seven hundred years of history in our vaults, and you can't die for some fool cause if you can avoid it. I forbid you from investigating this until you are no longer Tarn Vakarian." The OSD clicked off.

"Damn it, Dad." Even dead he tried to run his life. "Damn Desolous, too." He decided that he needed a drink. A tall one. He was going to drink the entire set of greaves tonight, and not just the boot. That was when his Omni-tool beeped. He pulled off his father's tool, gently placing it inside of a clear particle glass case. His Omni-tool booted and showed a sent message.

Dear Scale Itch.

The Pyjaks want you back for some big fat lead on the Rachni. Docking bay coordinates encoded. If you don't show up, though, I won't hold it against you. Not like you care about them any more than I do.

Kalin'ren vas Moreh

Scale itch? Garrus felt his mandibles tighten. Racial epithets were not a very nice thing to say, especially over an encrypted message. He growled. He strapped his gun to his thigh and locked all of the scattered papers back into the desk. Though he took all of the credit chits and donated them to the injured officer fund on his way to the docking bay. Oh, he didn't like Humans. But that didn't mean he would give up on them completely.

He would go there, and see if they would let him back into the Normandy. If they had found Desolous, then Garrus would come. But Desolous had dumped his Omni-tool somewhere or was off the grid completely. The old man could lose himself faster than most. Clipping his helmet back into place, he walked out of the C-sec station and got an air car. The Pyjaks needed someone with common sense to keep them from killing themselves. Garrus didn't sign up for that, but he respected the one who did. Though his dead friend couldn't fault him if he picked up some alcohol on the way.


James Hansen hadn't had the best experience after he quit working for Jack Harper. The man had left Citadel Space, and the person with the most knowledge regarding where he had gone all those trips. He had also signed an agreement in his work contract that he wouldn't reveal anything about Jack Harper, or his great wealth and income would suddenly be connected to a large number of standing warrants and death threats against Jack. So he kept his mouth shut.

Then Donovan Hock showed up. He showed up with half of the Cerberus Infiltrators and seized his house in California, his shuttles, and all of his guns. They claimed that under the Alliance charter, they had the right to search everything he owned for clues as to Jack Harper's location. Then he was jailed, 'for his protection'. They asked him about where he had traveled, where he had been. But he kept his agreement. Jack trusted him with some of his most secret parts of his life.

But after a year in jail, things weren't looking so great. No one knew where he was. He didn't have a lawyer to protect him, and so he had to make a tough decision. Which brought him to today.

"Why hello, James." The middle aged face of Julianne Jones sitting at his bar left him with all of the feelings of being stuck in his ten by five cell all over again. "I hear that you've been seeing such success lately." She chided. Jones used to be blonde, but now she had colored her hair to be the salt and pepper of older women. He hadn't seen her in three years. The day he had been finally released from his cell.

"Um, Hi." He offered, trying to keep his bartenders from seeing him freak out. "What'll you be having?"

"A moment of your time, Mr. Hansen. It would be in your best interest to listen."

"I've done nothing wrong, Jones." Jones was dressed in some nice pair of pants and a jacket, enough to hide a weapon in. "You told me that!"

She grinned darkly. "I lied." She let him see the handle of a large pistol that she had in her shoulder holster. "You've been in contact with some old friends of ours. We should talk about it."

James Hansen gulped. She could kill everyone in here. She could kill him and make it look like a suicide. He wanted to throw up, or just go die in some vent. He never wanted to make this decision again. "No, no we can't!"

"It would be a shame if anything were to happen to all these marines and naval officers, wouldn't it? Aren't some of them critical to the war effort?" James could count over a hundred Humans in his club right now that were wearing some kind of uniform or fatigues. Some of them could be officers. But all of them were strong, healthy, and capable people. "A shame, we had just paid off your debts to society, too."

"Please, don't, none of these people are involved in anything!" His bartenders were all too far to hear him now.

"I planted a sound bug in your comm line years ago, you worm." Jones sneered. "Something about Hannah Shepard came through. Tell me everything about it and these people live. If I'm not satisfied, then people die." Jones leaned over the bar, her demeanor that of a seductress, but her fingers were creating dents in the countertops with every tap.

He didn't want to go back into a cell. He didn't want people to die, just because he knew something. "I'll tell you, just," His bartenders were looking at him oddly. It was not his usual style to spend so long with any client or customer. "Don't kill anyone."

Author's Note

Kudos to the animated series Archer for giving me an idea for a club name. This one didn't take as long to crank out. There was so little information on Suen and how the Rachni evolved, or there were multiple sources claiming that they were around for different cycles. Javik claims that the Rachni assisted the Protheans. If the Protheans kept a beacon at Earth, perhaps they would keep one on Suen as well. So, the idea came to me. Either way.

I'm proud to say that Logical Premise is doing better, and is posting again. His health was an issue, and I am quite glad that he is updating his epic long story again. Another thing that has been frustrating were some errors from over the last couple of weeks. They stopped recording all traffic, and all messages were not getting through or were errors. If you guys did try to send me any messages, please try again now that they have fixed the problem. I'll actually get them now.

For those of you in America, you guys are about to get a giant load of political bullcrap. Next month the government will 'shut down' unless a budget agreement is reached. It's going to be stupid because all of the Republican candidates want some good press, or something to give them an edge. Some of those guys have current seats in Congress, which makes them even more obnoxious.

In America we have this wonderful organization called Planned Parenthood. It has done great work for millions of women, and I don't want to sound rude by saying it hasn't done wrong. Recently we have found out(The public, no idea how long the government has been aware) that the fetuses that have been aborted through Planned Parenthood are being used for a darker purpose. As PP is a government supported company, everyone there makes a government salary. Great benefits, great everything, apparently. Unfortunately, some of the Planned Parenthood Doctors are going against international law and selling the fetuses and their organs to bio-engineering companies. This is all a very lucrative market, and these doctors know it. So they sell the fetuses, some of whom are sold to the client while still alive, their hearts beating. It makes me sick to hear about that.

So the Republicans are about to make a fat complaint that they 'won't sign off on any budget unless Planned Parenthood is defunded'. It's going to dominate headlines and basically make the whole party make a mess of themselves. Planned Parenthood is fine. We just have to figure out who is specifically breaking the law and bring them in. The company shouldn't have to suffer from that.

Either way, I have a vote settled for my candidate. It isn't Hilary(I don't like economic policies that are based on younger generations suffering further) and I'm not going to talk about who I chose. But most of the readers here are under 25. If you are American, and you are of age to vote, I urge you to do so. Most people just want to bury their heads in the sand and just tell you 'that you're picking the lesser of two evils'. It's not like that. Really the reason that no one listens to our generation is that we don't vote as a block. The older people do, and they really throw their weight behind people. If we young people did that we would have just as much voting power. That's why I brought up the impending stupidity. I just hope that you all out there look past all of it and find something good to read about in the news. Or at least something hopeful. Thanks for reading my little rant here, I hope that you guys have a great start of semester or Fall, and good luck out there.