To all you wonderful readers, have a great Christmas and a better new year!

Chapter 26: Of Traitors and Crooks

"Why would you want a VI of the commander that doesn't even act like her?" August asked as they left the C-Sec office behind them.

"Oh, no reason," Garrus replied unconvincingly. "Well, mainly to annoy Victoria. I'm going to calibrate it to say something every time she walks into the room."

"That would certainly do the trick." The easy camaraderie of Victoria's crew still surprised August sometimes, despite its familiarity. Inquisitor Sarebas had been good to those under his command, but their relationship had always been clear. He was lord, and they served. The ranks of the Imperial Guard were less rigid, but each soldier knew that every commissar and officer bore the iron fist of the Emperor's gaze with them even as they laughed and chatted. Victoria's crew seemed more friends than servants or retinue. His thoughts drifted to Maeteris, and he briefly wondered which the eldar's military more closely resembled. It was a line of questioning that he had been indulging more often lately. It had never occurred to him to wonder about the eldar in any way other than foes.

At a crisp pace, Garrus led them to the warehouse that Bailey had directed them to. August's hand rested discreetly near his holster as they entered. Two armoured krogan stood inside. They looked August and Garrus over and, apparently deciding that they posed little threat, one of them turned his head and gave a small nod. From behind a pile of crates a volus stepped out, looking between Garrus and August.

"Are you an associate of Fade?" Garrus asked.

"Might be," the volus replied. "Is one of you looking to disappear?"

"We'd rather you make someone reappear."

"Ah." The volus paused, looking for a diplomatic reply. "That's not the service we provide."

"Make an exception," Garrus told him ominously, drawing his pistol in a single smooth motion and pointing it at the volus.

August drew his own weapons in the same moment, levelling his saber at the neck of the krogan closer to him and his plasma pistol at the other. The pair of krogan paused in the act of reaching for their own weapons. Their surprise turned to wariness as they studied August. He returned their looks with the steely gaze that had cowed many an unruly soldier, and was pleased to see the krogan shift uncertainly, their lips lifting in soundless growls. In their hesitation that lasted only a fraction of a second their eyes narrowed, as though they were weighing their chances of disarming August before any harm could befall themselves or their boss. August did not give them that chance. He extended his right arm in a controlled thrust, the blade effortlessly piercing the krogan's breastplate but stopping just short of breaking his flesh. A pained grunt from the alien, however, told August that he had overestimated the thickness of the krogan's armour.

"If the both of you turn and leave, you'll live," August told them.

The two krogan nodded, lowering their arms and turning away.

"I'd like to see that work on orks," August muttered, sheathing his sword.

"Where're you two going?" the volus demanded. His voice became suddenly ingratiating. "What's the point in hiring protection if they wouldn't protect you?"

"Such sloppiness suits me just fine," Garrus replied, waving the barrel of his gun before the volus' face. "Where's Fade?"

"I get the point," the volus told him. "There's no need for that gun. He's in the factory district, working out of the old prefab foundry."

"Do you know it?" August asked.

Garrus nodded. "Yeah."

"He's got a lot of mercs there," the volus warned. "Blue Suns. Harkin thinks they're protecting him."

"Fade's Harkin?" Garrus asked sharply.

"You know this individual, Garrus?" August asked him.

"I do. He's C-Sec. One of the first human officers, actually. I used to work with him."

"He got fired," the volus corrected. "But he still knows their systems."

"Which he's using to help the Blue Suns," August muttered darkly. "One more reason to hunt him down."

Garrus nodded. "We'll need to go to the transit station. I can get us to him from there."

"What about him?" August asked, tilting his chin at the volus.

"I'll forget this whole conversation ever happened," the stocky alien promised.

"I'd shoot him, but it's your call, Garrus."

"You can go," the turian said. "But if we don't find Harkin, we'll be back for you."

The volus nodded and left as hurriedly as his stature would allow him to.

The transit station that Garrus led them to bustled with activity, humans and aliens of every stripe rubbing shoulders as they tried to get aboard one of the skycars that travelled past in unbroken lines. Garrus stopped at a counter, speaking for a few moments with the turian behind it. After a while the attendant nodded and pointed to a spot behind Garrus to a small sealed-off area by the sky lanes that was free of commuters.

"Got us a priority car," Garrus said satisfactorily as he rejoined August. "We don't have time to waste trying to get one."

"Good idea. This place is far too crowded for my liking."

"Don't like crowds?"

"Don't like who could be lurking in them." Keeping his movements casual, August looked warily about him.

"See anyone suspicious?" Garrus asked quietly.

"Many." August scanned the crowd with a trained eye. He was used to picking out heretics among the teeming depths of the Imperium's hive cities, and it was almost easy to begin to spot potential threats in this comparatively tiny crowd. There stood an asari who glanced once too often in their direction, and over there a trio of salarians spoke too excitedly to each other. A nearby turian who had the hard look of a trained soldier was just a little too alert for August's liking. Some distance off there was a hanar. The hanar had neither eyes nor faces. August found it difficult to trust them.

"Don't think all of them are after us, August," Garrus muttered as August pointed out some of them. "Most of them seem perfectly innocuous."

"Probably, but I'm watching them anyway."

"Not even batarians could keep track of that many targets, and they have more eyes than we do."

"Perhaps, but I can try. First one to approach us gets his head blown off. That should discourage the rest of them."

"I don't think that would be necessary," Garrus said. "Our car's here."

"You said you used to work with Harkin?" August asked as they settled into the passenger seat. "What kind of person is he?"

"A pain. Nastiest man you ever saw, with an attitude to match. Corrupt, too. Took bribes, dealt on both sides of the law. Drank and took drugs on the job, roughing up suspects in custody, abuse of power. And if anyone got close, he made sure to have some critical information tucked away that would divert attention elsewhere. Couldn't find anything slimier if you looked under a damp rock."

"You don't sound like you like him very much," August noted.

Garrus made an indelicate sound. "Damn right I don't. Harkin is the sort of man who could repulse vorcha just by walking by. The only reason he's lasted as long as he did is because the Alliance embassy couldn't afford to have one of the few human C-Sec officers dismissed. Guess they stopped protecting him now that there are more humans in the force, though. Victoria ran into him a couple years ago, apparently, a little before I joined up with her. From what I gather, he wasn't very respectful. Shame she didn't break his jaw when she had the chance. Would've done all of C-Sec a favour."

"And now he's using C-Sec resources to aid criminal activities." August's fingers tightened into fists on his lap. "We put people like that into the penal legions back in the Guard."

"You've mentioned them a number of times. What are the penal legions, exactly?"

August shrugged. "Exactly as their name suggests. As many as the crimes are that warrant execution, death wastes lives and deny the criminal a chance to repent. The penal legions offer a solution to both. Their ranks are the damned and the lost, and they seek redemption by giving their lives for the Emperor. They are the first of an assault and the last to withdraw. Where the foe lies the thickest, there you may find the men and women of the penal legions."

"Sounds like their role is to be cannon fodder," Garrus observed.

"That is not their role," August replied firmly. "As sinful as they are, their lives are still that of the Emperor and their souls no less valuable than those of their fellow Guardsmen. Any commander who does not hold them in similar regard will find himself in the penal legions too. The role of cannon fodder belongs to the mutant slave levies or the feral abhumans."

Garrus shook his head. "I'll never understand your Imperium."

"That's why you're a xenos."

"And here I thought it was the carapace and mandibles and the thulium in our skin."

"They certainly do you no favours."

Garrus chuckled. "Well, even Archangel needs to have some imperfections." He looked out of the window of the skycar. "We're nearing the foundry. Be ready. Place hasn't been used in a while. Can't tell what might be going on here, and I dare not access C-Sec records in case Harkin's listening in."

"Well, it looks like he's aware of our approach regardless," August muttered, tilting his chin towards a spot some distance away. A trio of armed men sporting the distinctive armour of the Blue Suns stood guard before a sealed door. Behind them a balding human stood, staring intensely at their skycar.

"That's Harkin, all right," Garrus growled. "That volus must've informed him of us. Didn't think the little weasel would actually show himself."

"Well, it'll be a shame to disappoint him, now that he's had all that arranged for us." August raised his lasgun, fully prepared to drive its butt into the window and begin shooting.

"Not like that," Garrus said in a pained voice. "This car is just on loan to us. We'll have to pay for any damages. I'll put us down nearby, then we can go say hello."

Garrus set the car down without ceremony and quickly cut the engines. He was already getting out of his seat before the door had slid fully open, his pistol in his hand. August did the same, keeping his lasgun close, ready to begin shooting at a moment's notice.

"Well, if it isn't the man with the fancy gun that everyone wants," Harkin drawled.

"I can guarantee that you wouldn't be able to enjoy any of that money," August returned. He kept his posture casual, watching Harkin for signs that he may attempt to do something rash.

Harkin's eyes narrowed as he glanced from side to side at his guards for reassurance. There was a heavy step behind August as Garrus came around the car. The situation exploded in both a metaphorical and a very literal sense. Harkin raised his left arm, his omnitool glowing at his wrist. At the same time, August raised his gun, took aim, and squeezed the trigger once. August was faster and his aim true. Harkin's right leg simply ceased to exist below the knee. The balding man fell heavily against one of the Blue Suns mercenaries, his aim going wide. The grenade that was intended for August flew instead from his omnitool high up into the air. August sensed more than saw Garrus dive quickly into cover and he did the same, squeezing off a couple more shots as he did so to force the Blue Suns to scatter.

"Get them!" he heard Harkin scream, and August risked a quick peek. The man was leaning heavily upon a mercenary, heading back through the door to the foundry. The mercenary blocked Harkin from August's sight but the stormtrooper opened fire anyway. The mercenary collapsed, taking Harkin down with him. The door closed, cutting Harkin off from sight. Then the grenade landed, exploding on contact with the ground halfway between August and the mercenaries.

The two Blue Suns were alternating their fire, trying to suppress rather than kill. It was a sound tactic, but it made them static. The next time one of them popped his rifle over his cover to fire wildly in their direction, August took aim. The lasbolt scoured a hole into the mercenary's weapon, the transfer of energy setting the metal around it to glowing. The mercenary yelped and dropped the gun immediately, instinctively jumping back and exposing himself just a little too much. Another beam of light immediately ended his life. Garrus had taken the opportunity to push forward, overloading the second mercenary's shields and then gunning him down with three shots from his pistol.

In the silence that followed, Garrus nodded to August. "Harkin shouldn't be going far with what you did to him." He fiddled for a few moments at the door with his omnitool.

August took up a position before the door, his lasgun levelled. He gave Garrus a curt nod to signal his readiness. The turian returned the nod and the door slid open.

Two mechs waited for them beyond the door, gazing at them balefully with crimson lenses. They were quickly dispatched of with a few short bursts of gunfire.

"Wonder where Harkin's gone off to," Garrus muttered. "That gun of yours is handy, August, but it doesn't leave any blood trails that we could follow."

"I've chased down my fair share of heretics. This'll be no different." August looked around him. "Heat signatures from further inside. Harkin must've gone that way."

"We can't let him get away. He may know why Sidonis wanted to disappear, and we can't risk him tipping Sidonis off."

August hefted his lasgun. "No time to waste, then."

They came across a few more mechs as they made their way further into the foundry. The machines were no sturdier than the pair they had encountered at the door, and they went down just as easily to August's lasgun and Garrus' electrical pulses. Only a couple of minutes later, the pair found themselves in the main floor of the foundry. Almost immediately they came under heavy fire.

"See a dozen targets," August barked, ducking quickly into cover.

Garrus did the same, stopping only momentarily to blow the head off the nearest mercenary with a single shot from his Krysae. "We've got to move! They're moving to flank us."

Instinctively August activated the hot shot setting on his lasgun, praying fervently that he had some of Jocasta's grenades instead. Quickly he poked his head around his cover, lasgun firing, and a turian collapsed as his torso was sheared nearly in half.

"Surrender!" one of the Blue Suns called. "We have you surrounded!"

"Hardly likely," Garrus muttered.

"One who has the advantage does not attempt to negotiate," August replied, taking up his pistol in his left hand and charging it up. "They're trying to avoid taking casualties. Let's give them some to think about."

They had both claimed another kill each during the exchange, and now Garrus' mandibles spread wide in a wolfish approximation of a grin. He gestured with his chin at a stack of containers a hundred meters off to their right.

"That looks like a good vantage point. Cover me."

"Long way to run," August noted laconically.

"I'm trusting you not to let me get killed." He nodded once curtly. "Don't kill them all before I get there. I don't want to have to have run all that way for nothing."

"I'll try not to." August leant out, discharging his pistol at the largest concentration of mercenaries that he could see. There were shouts and the screams of the dying as the stench of ozone filled the air, the cacophony mingling with the thunder of half a dozen assault rifles opening up on August's position. As August returned fire, he quickly discovered the problem with fighting foes used to fighting with kinetic barriers. He had disparaged the combatants of this galaxy before on how much time they spent standing around out in the open, but the very same mentality also made forcing them to keep their heads down rather difficult, even as their kinetic barriers quite obviously did little to protect them from August's fire.

Then August's comms crackled.

"In position," Garrus reported.

His words were immediately followed up by a wet-sounding detonation as he began picking off Blue Suns with the explosive rounds of his rifle.

"I have eyes on their commander," Garrus informed him. "On your eleven."

August peered out. A batarian was advancing towards him, his heavier armour shimmering orange with an extra energy barrier. Lumbering behind the batarian was a heavy mech. "I see him. Take out the rest of the troopers. I got the commander and his machine."

"You got it."

August aimed his pistol at the mech, losing a couple of shots. They struck the unit squarely in the chest, collapsing its shields and scouring a smoldering hole in its armour plating. The batarian commander dived immediately for cover as the mech retaliated, filling the air around August with projectiles. Hunkering down behind his quickly disintegrating cover, August took a moment to reload his plasma pistol.

"Having trouble?" Garrus asked mildly. Then, more urgently, "Commander moving in on your flank. I've got no line of sight to him."

August grunted, releasing his lasgun to let it hang from his shoulder and drawing his saber. It was not a moment too soon. The batarian stepped around the corner, a harpoon gun in his hands. August ducked to the side, faintly hearing a sharp metallic clunk, his augmentations helping him avoid the wicked looking harpoon as it sailed by only centimeters from his shoulder. He reached out, grabbed the wire of the harpoon, gave it a firm yank. The batarian let out a howl of pain, holding his numb right arm to his chest, pulling a crackling baton from behind his back with his good hand. It soon became obvious that the batarian was not a swordsman. August easily parried his first inelegant thrust, bringing his saber back around for a quick slash at the batarian's face. The commander dodged, nearly losing his footing, his eyes suddenly wide and wary.

Then the mech stepped into view. Its torso was blackened and ruined, small holes here and there in the armour plating exposing its metal hull and sparking circuitry, but it was still mostly functional. August reacted instantly, thrusting his sword in a feint, bringing it down to the right as the batarian instinctively raised his baton to block the overhead blow and severing the alien's left arm at the elbow. The batarian's scream and the clatter of the dropped baton were drowned out by the deafening chatter of the heavy mech's guns. The batarian shuddered as the rounds thudded into his back and he began to fall. Grabbing on to the front of the batarian's armour, August dragged the corpse back with him, letting it soak up the worst of the autogun's fire as he retreated, dimly aware that his barriers were collapsing. There was a distant gunshot and a small detonation within the mech. It shuddered lurching unsteadily about on its feet before collapsing ponderously backwards in a noisy clatter of metal.

"All clear, August," Garrus said crisply. "You injured?"

"Negative." August let the batarian crumple unceremoniously to the floor. Sheathing his saber, he curiously picked up the alien's gun. "What's this all about?" he asked, inspecting the harpoon.

"Most batarian soldiers and mercs dabble in slavery. This one probably thought he could make a few easy credits off you and your gear."

August shook his head in disgust. "I'll need to do something about that soon. This is starting to get irritating."

"Good luck with that," Garrus drawled, gripping his rifle loosely as he approached. "Anyone stupid or brave enough to take on you or a bounty as large as yours is the persistent sort. Not easily dissuaded."

"I'll figure something out." He looked around him. ""Let's press on."

"Looks like the heart of the complex's up ahead," Garrus noted. "That'll be where all the heavy machinery is. Fortunately, there aren't many places that Harkin could go from there."

"It also means that he must have prepared something for us. Couldn't be more Blue Suns. Probably more mechs."

"How did you figure that?"

"Harkin doesn't strike me as the bravest soul. Along with his lost leg, he'd have been running scared. Men like that send all they have against the most immediate threat without concern for the lives of their men."

"Try to overwhelm us with numbers and leave only the most formidable of his forces with him, which aren't mercs but the YMIR mechs."

"If Harkin's anything like the heretics of the Imperium, yes." They came to a large observation window and August paused to check his weapons. "Well, we've dealt with them before." The floor before them looked much like what lay behind, with crates and containers stacked high into neat piles. On the other side of the floor there was a raised control room.

"There's Harkin," Garrus grated. "How many more cartridges do you have for your plasma pistol?"

"More than Harkin has machines, I bet."

"Do you really think you can take me down, Garrus?" Harkin's taunting voice came over the speakers.

"That man is irritating me," Garrus said. "How did he get up there with only one leg?"

"Maybe one of the machines carried him up. He'll have no legs when I'm done with him."

"Now that's something I can get on board with."

A couple of cranes emerged from the control room, their thrusters straining under the weight of an YMIR. August was ready with his pistol. He aimed for the nearest crane, blasting it out before it had even begun to slow down. The crane's cargo plummeted to the ground, momentum carrying it at great speeds downwards. The mech landed heavily upon its feet, its legs bending to absorb the shock of the impact. Then, with a hissing of hydraulics and a whirring of servos, the mech began advancing upon them, its guns chattering angrily.

Garrus reached out with his omnitool, overloading the mech's barrier before launching an orange ball of plasma towards it.

"Second mech dropping in on our nine," August cautioned, tracking the crane with his pistol. This time he aimed for the mech itself, dropping its barriers and reducing its legs to a molten mess before it had touched the ground. A second shot reduced the insides of the mech to slag.

Garrus slammed a fresh thermal clip into his sniper rifle and fired at the first mech. The shot pierced the lens in the mech's cylindrical head and detonated, setting off a chain reaction that blew the machine apart.

August did not stop to appreciate the destruction. He ran towards the ramp that led up to the control room, blasting the heads off the few LOKI mechs loitering near the top with well-practiced shots. The door to the control room was closed and sealed; August opened it by the simple expedient of a single shot from his plasma pistol.

Harkin had been leaning heavily upon a control panel, and he flinched at their explosive entrance, nearly losing his balance and falling.

"Wait!" he cried, steadying himself with one hand on the control panel and raising the other before him, as though he could through that simple gesture shield himself from the raised barrel of August's lasgun.

Unheeding of his plea, Garrus stalked towards Harkin, his alien face, already normally so inexpressive to August, seemingly even more blank. Grabbing the man, he slammed Harkin down upon the control panel.

"So, Fade," he said, contempt dripping heavily in his drawl. "Couldn't make yourself disappear, huh?"

"No need for that, Garrus," Harkin said in a strained voice. "Your psycho friend's already made himself clear when he blew off my leg." He turned to cast a dark look at August. "What do you want, Garrus?"

"You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him. A turian named Sidonis."

Harkin shook his head. "I don't give out client information. It's bad for business."

"And not giving us what we want is going to be bad for your health," August told him ominously. He found that he was suddenly very irritated by the man before him. "I've been around types of people you couldn't even begin to imagine for a very long time, and I've learnt how to keep someone alive and conscious through the most terrible pain. You'll either tell us what we want to know now, or you can do it after I've fed your liver to you. The choice is yours."

"Not giving me much of a choice here, are you?"

"There never was any."

Harkin's lips curled. "Don't remember you running around with people like your friend here, Garrus. Terminus really changed you, didn't it?"

"Wasn't Terminus that did that. Arrange a meeting, or my friend is going to be feeding you your liver."

Harkin glowered at the turian for a few moments. August unsheathed his saber, making the movement as conspicuous as possible.

"Fine," Harkin snapped. "I'm going. My business terminal's just over there. One of you want to help me get to it?"

Neither August nor Garrus moved to do so.

Harkin scowled and made his way along the wall, leaning heavily upon it for support as he gingerly hopped along towards a terminal in the back of the room.

"Your identity may be compromised," he said to someone on the other end. "I'm sending an agent. Where do you want to meet?" There was a pause as he waited for Sidonis' reply, then he nodded, terminating the call and hobbling back to them. "He'll be meeting you in front of Orbital Lounge, in the middle of the day. That's my part done, then. If you don't mind, I'll be going now. It'll be too soon if we meet again in this lifetime."

"My thoughts exactly," Garrus replied. He raised his arm, pointing his pistol at Harkin.

Harkin's eyes widened, staring first at Garrus and then at the pistol. "Now wait a minute, Garrus," he started.

"Don't have it." The turian's grip tightened about his gun.

August's fingers had tightened about his own lasgun during the exchange. As much as he despised Harkin, he was still a loyal citizen of the Imperium, and years of training in the academies of the Schola Progenia had instilled in him duty and the knowledge of the just and right, and this was neither. His very life screamed at him now to do something; that he could not agree with, nor even stand idly by, while a xenos executed a human.

"Wait," he barked, extending his arm towards Garrus.

The turian looked back at him, his head tilted curiously.

"Thanks," Harkin said.

August ignored him. "This man is a traitor to Mankind and a heretic. He must be judged, but not by a xenos. He has transgressed against humanity, and he must be judged by humans." On top of that, the very idea that a xenos could know the ideals of the Emperor was unthinkable, but he kept that to himself.

Garrus nodded once. "Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse?"

August was no arbitrator, but he knew the rites of capital pronouncement well enough. As Harkin looked on in wide-eyed bemusement, August intoned in High Gothic the verses of the Emperor's Pardon. Then, switching to Low Gothic, he continued.

"In aiding those who would work against the keepers of the law, your conceit is revealed. Thus by your transgressions you are condemned, from which absolution is earned by the judgement and grace of the Emperor's light."

With a crisp movement he raised his lasgun. Harkin scrambled backward, falling over in his haste to get away as knowledge of his doom dawned finally upon him.

August's fury at this man grew with every passing moment, made worse by the scorn that Garrus so obviously had for him. Morality separated humans from the xenos of the galaxy; the xenos did not understand morality, the texts always held, and they could not, for all good things came from the Emperor. That was why humanity would eventually prevail over their foul kinds. But here he was, about to execute the Emperor's will while a xenos watched on in approval. Silently he cursed Harkin, crafting in his mind a prayer for Harkin's deserved damnation in the eyes of the Emperor.

"May you find redemption with the Emperor," he muttered with a note of finality. Harkin opened his mouth to scream. He never got the chance as August took his head off with a single shot of his lasgun.

"Well, that's that," Garrus muttered with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, holstering his pistol and making his way out of the control room. "The Blue Suns will take care of him. Time to go meet Sidonis."

They were silent as they made their way back to the skycar and left for the Orbital Lounge. Harkin weighed heavily in August's mind. The crimes of the man were many, to be certain, and there was no question that his execution was just. The circumstances in which the execution had taken place, however, rankled August. Had Garrus been Inquisitor Sarebas, August would have merely been carrying out his lord's will, no matter how much he wanted such an outcome, too. But Garrus was not his lord; Garrus was not even human. Did the same rules apply? Had August followed the wishes of a xenos in taking the life of a human, despicable as Harkin had been? Or had August carried out the will of the Emperor, and it was Garrus who stood in accordance, not with August's wishes but the demands of the Emperor? Could a xenos even understand and accept the just morals of the Emperor's demands?

The thoughts stayed with August all the way to the Lounge, broken only when Garrus set the skycar down and picked up his rifle.

"Go talk to Sidonis." He gave August a quick look over. "Swagger a little when you approach Sidonis. The Blue Suns have a sort of indolence about them. Don't be afraid to exaggerate that military bearing you've got, though."

"I know what I'm doing," August assured him.

"Right. Of course." Garrus' mandibles flexed idly as he looked around him. "I'll set up here. Radio me when you're ready."

Critically, August eyed the rifle that Garrus held. "Make it a sloppy kill. We have enough people after us without adding C-Sec to that list."

Garrus held up his weapon. "That's why I'm using a Mantis, and turned its power down. It'll look just like a shot from any of the millions of civilian models sold."

August nodded. "Emperor guide your aim," he muttered instinctively and without any hint of irony.

August found Sidonis sitting by himself on a bench before the Orbital Lounge, hunched over and with his head resting in his hands. August waited for the turian to notice him then gestured him over with a tilt of his head.

"You one of Harkin's men? I don't remember seeing you before," Sidonis said as he neared.

"I'm not," August told him. "I'm with Garrus."

"What are you doing?" Garrus asked sharply.

"The guilty must know by what they are condemned," August muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Sidonis demanded. "Is that Garrus on the other end?" He shook his head. "I had my own problems. I didn't want to do it. I didn't have a choice. They said they'd kill me if I didn't help. What was I supposed to do?"

"That's an admission of guilt," Garrus grated. "He's a damn coward." There was a pause, then, in a perfectly level voice, "Step over to the side, August. You're in the way."

Sidonis bowed his head. "I know what I did, that they died because of me. I'm already a dead man. I can't find joy in anything. When I try to sleep I wake up sick and sweating. When I close my eyes I see their faces staring at me, accusing. Some days I want it to be over."

August looked Sidonis directly in the eye. The turian's voice sounded on the verge of breaking, but August had no pity for him. Indeed, sleeplessness and nightmares seemed almost too lenient. "Better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself," he intoned, repeating the words that he had said to Garrus on the Normandy that day when he had first heard of Sidonis.

"What? What emperor?"

August did not reply. The xenos likely did not come into the presence of the Emperor when they died, and if that was so, then why bother telling Sidonis of He upon the Throne? August turned and made his way back to the elevator that would take him up to the skycar. Behind him he heard hurried, retreating footsteps. Then a gunshot, and screaming from the passersby all around him, xenos and human alike.

August paid them no heed, nor did he look back to Sidonis. A traitor deserved no more than that, and the ignorant who would fret over his corpse would receive no answer in turn.

"That's that, then," Garrus said with a note of finality when August returned to him. He shook his arms a few times, and though August was not well-versed in the expressions of the xenos, he could see the tension draining away from the turian's shoulders.

Garrus grinned, his mandibles spreading widely. "Seems like such a long time I've been waiting for this."

August inclined his head. "The deliverance of justice is always long, and all the more pleasing in the eyes of the Emperor for it."

"Think your emperor would accept justice delivered by an alien?"

"It's the principle that counts," August replied piously, then he too grinned, for a brief moment even forgetting that Garrus was a xenos.

"Come on," Garrus said then. "Let's go back to the Normandy. Don't want to be here when C-Sec shows up. It's a lot of paperwork to navigate."

It was a short ride back to the transit station at which they had first picked up the skycar, and then, at a more leisurely pace than what they had taken before, made their way back to the Normandy.

Suddenly, Garrus turned to August. "Was I too hasty?" he asked.

His tone made August turn immediately to him. "How do you mean?"

"I was wondering if perhaps I should have followed Victoria's wishes. Perhaps I was… too harsh on Sidonis. Too much hatred to him. He was broken. I wonder now if it was necessary to kill him."

"Anyone who would trade a comrade's life for his own is not worth saving."

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose."

They walked on in silence for a while, then Garrus spoke again.

"If what Sidonis said was true… well, would I have done the same thing if those guys on Omega had got to me instead?"

"No," August said firmly and without hesitation. "A xenos is the last person I would say this about, but I have seen nothing yet that could call your loyalty into question." He shrugged. "If that were not so, you'd be off commanding your own crew by now rather than taking orders from Victoria."

"She's a good commander and leader."

"As are you, and yet you still remain with her. Have no reason to doubt, Garrus."

They were nearing the Normandy's dock when Garrus suddenly chuckled.

"Something funny?" August asked.

"Not really. Just remembering something, is all. I used to patrol an area near here in my earliest days in C-Sec. I was so enthusiastic then, thought I could make a difference by rounding up criminals on the streets."

"Well, everyone has to start somewhere," August noted blandly.

Garrus chuckled, then he gestured to August. "Come on," he said, turning abruptly to head down a shadowy alley.

"Where're you going?"

"Well, there's this spot I used to go to near the spaceport. It's full of visitors and travelers. Good place to just watch people come and go."

"And your reason for going there?"

"Feeling a little nostalgic, I suppose. Want to see if it's still as good a place to kill time as I remember."

August nodded. He did not share Garrus' idea of killing time. Idle hands, after all, was an indulgence that even the Emperor himself could not afford. But he had not had much opportunity to see the inhabitants of this galaxy in the most mundane of tasks of their days, and so he gestured Garrus onward.

The spaceport was predictably smaller than August was used to, but, like all the ports in the Imperium, it was filled with ships of all sizes and designs entering and leaving, and it bustled with people. These, however, were not the richly dressed nobles or the downtrodden gangs of workmen, but, as far as August was concerned, merry-makers and holiday goers, filling the air with an atmosphere of giddy excitement.

August's eye was drawn immediately to the humans in the throng. They were not more numerous than the asari or turians around them, nor were they scarce, straddling that fine line between being an individual curiosity and fading away into banality. None of the xenos paid them a second look, but August studied each human who passed closely. They talked, they laughed, and they joked as they went about their day, usually in groups consisting of other species of xenos.

A high-pitched, girlish squeal made him turn. A human, bearing a heavy suitcase and a huge grin upon her face, had rushed out of the spaceport's gate closest to him. An asari met her with a similar expression upon her face. There was a blur as the two positively flew into each other's arms and wrapped the other in a great hug, heedless of the glances that they drew. August clenched his fist, a prayer on his lips as he made the sign of the aquila to fight the expected wave of revulsion, but it never came. Mildly surprised, August forced his fingers to relax. The asari had taken the suitcase from the other woman and, with their hands around each other's waist they left, chatting animatedly away.

August's thoughts raced as he watched them leave. Had he really acclimated so quickly to this galaxy that seeing a human in open flagrance with a xenos no longer bothered him as greatly as it once did? Was this the will of the Emperor, or was his faith so easily dissuaded? It was perhaps true, he was forced to admit, that the xenos were not without the traits that made Mankind strong – the determination and compassion and honor that allowed a human to stand out among the mean ranks of the beings of the universe, but they were not entirely human, either. They could not be.

"Let's go someplace quieter," August muttered to Garrus, needing suddenly to place some distance between himself and the people around him.

Garrus nodded without pressing further, leading the way back from the port to one of the many wide corridors that led off from it. August placed his back against the wall at the entrance to it, folding his arms and continuing to watch the crowd.

He did not know how long he had been doing so when the quarian caught his eye. His movements were furtive, and, though his face was concealed by the masks that the quarians habitually wore, August could tell that he was eyeing his surroundings in the way a thief at a jewellers might.

"Is he a thief?" August asked, nodding at the quarian.

Garrus barely glanced at the xenos. "No. He's likely on his Pilgrimage."

"Why the furtiveness, then?"

Garrus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, don't tell Tali I said this, but the Pilgrimage does sometimes include thievery. A young quarian would take quite a lot of risks to return to the ship with an exciting discovery or technology."

"The articles on the extranet regarding the Pilgrimage didn't include that."

"Well, it's a nasty stereotype. Most quarians are upstanding people. Some of them, however… well, the brashness and egos of youths is a universal thing."

"It's not a bad custom. Everyone must prove their place in a society."

"Yeah. If only the quarians would tell their young not to steal from organized criminals, though. Once had a case where a girl tried to make off with an entire ship. Almost got her killed by armed thugs. That was an interesting one to sort out."

The quarian came walking towards them. August straightened slightly, his hand dipping towards his pistol, but the quarian did not approach them, instead disappearing down the corridor. Half a minute later two humans, their eyes fixed unabashedly upon the vanishing quarian, did the same.

Garrus let out an exasperated grunt. "And that's the other thing about the Pilgrimage. Young quarians are inexperienced. Make easy targets." He sighed. "I'm going to persuade those two to go look for someone else to rob. That quarian might be dead by the time C-Sec gets here." Without waiting for a reply, he drew his pistol and followed the men. Not wanting Garrus to be left to face the muggers alone, August did the same.

They found the men menacing the quarian in an alleyway lit only by a series of dim red lights that cast deep shadows and which only seemed to emphasize the darkness around them. They both had long daggers in their hands which they brandished at the quarian. From the way they held the blades, August judged that they were not experienced in using them.

They did not need experience, however, to harm the quarian, and they had backed the young alien up against the wall, one stalking around him to cut his escape off.

Muttering a low curse, Garrus moved quickly forward, his pistol raised. August fired his Carnifex, placing the shot right by the foot of one of the men. They turned with startled shouts, hastily reaching for the weapons on their hips. August moved on instinct, firing twice, catching both men in the chest before they had even drawn their arms.

The moments that followed were shocking in their silence. Garrus moved first, checking on the quarian then on the dead ruffians. The quarian came forward to August, perhaps in gratitude, perhaps in shock. He spoke, but August did not hear his words, nor notice when the young alien left. He gazed instead at the twin corpses before him. Here again was evidence of the inconceivable – of xenos understanding the morals given to humanity by the Emperor where his fellow men did not. Robbery was a heinous crime, for it encouraged complacency and traded time for nothing of value to the Emperor's cause; murder was even worse. But what were the crimes that these two committed? Taking from the xenos was not forbidden; indeed, it was usually quite the opposite. After all, Mankind held the right to the galaxy. And the death of xenos was, August even now held, the duty of every citizen of the Imperium. Instead, these deaths were caused in defence of the xenos, in defiance of the principles of the scriptures that August knew and obeyed. Had the prospective victim of these two dead men been another human, August's actions would have been just. But quarians were no human.

In a rare flash of insight, August was forced to confront a single undeniable truth. He no longer saw any distinction between humans and the alien, at least on a subconscious level. That was why he had not been immediately outraged at the human and asari couple he had seen earlier, what had prompted him to save the quarian as though he had been a human. Somehow, along the way, August had lost his path and accepted the infectious ideology of this galaxy.

"Gallardi?" came Garrus' concerned call.

August was dimly aware that the turian had been repeating his name a few times with increasing concern. He blinked, shook his head numbly, and holstered his pistol roughly. "Let's get back to the Normandy," he said, no longer interested in watching the people around him. Suddenly he longed only for the confines of his quarters aboard the Normandy and the icons of the Emperor upon the Throne held within.