Don't pursue something with a vengeful heart, or it will destroy you. Hate wraps a cold hand around your heart and hollows you out. – Dannika Dark (Twist [Mageri, #2; Mageriverse #2])

Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
Irin – Pronounced similar to the girl's name 'Erin' – Zaeed Massani's shortened form of 'Iringù-Eßizkur'
Ø7 – An allegedly discontinued vocational code in the Systems Alliance military.
· · · · The Ø designates covert operations; the 7 refers to the highest level of proficiency.
Qíngrén – [情人] – lover

• AHN'KAHAR STATION, STRENUUS SYSTEM · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •

Griff placed a mug brimming full with hot coffee in my hands as I walked through the entry to our research area. "Comms traffic we've been monitoring between Garrett Sutton and the various people that answer to him have taken on a—tone, for lack of a better word—that I can only describe as ominous."

He reacted to my immediate frown by adding, "It's nothing I can point to and say 'There! That's what I'm talking about!', but we've been looking at this bastard for so long, even I can tell something is different."

"You think he's on to us? … think he's aware we've been building a case against him?"

Without taking his eyes from my face, Griff slowly shook his head. "It's not us, Sammy. His ire is directed at the top brass … Admiral Hackett, and General Park in particular." With his mouth set in a tight, grim line, he added, "I believe that miserable whoreson is in the early stages of planning an assassination, Sammy … her… assassination."

"Shit! If that's true, we need to warn her … I need to warn her, Griff." Thinking that Garrett Sutton could be so damned spiteful as to plot the murder of a high-ranking Alliance officer made my heart clench. "I refuse to allow anyone, especially RaeLee Park, pay a price for my desire to see that sonuvabitch answer for his crimes! I'll go to the Citadel and kill 'im myself before I let that happen!"

"Shouldn't be necessary, Sammy," came the quiet reply. "Once General Park is aware of the threat, there are a number of steps she can take to lessen the size of the target on her back."

"Being a smaller target only means there's still a chance Sutton could succeed." I spent several minutes sipping my coffee while silently thinking about what we needed to do. "Griff, the Broker is going to call Amber Watson … she can contact General Park and give her our warning, and our suggestion that she take some serious precautions."

"Sounds good, Sammy. Meanwhile, I'll get in touch with Spectre Shepard … share our findings, maybe ask that she meet with Admiral Hackett as soon as she can arrange it."

I finished my coffee while Griff loaded a datapad with the information we'd discovered; I took the few steps necessary to enter the compartment we used for Broker communications, pulled on my hooded cloak, then sent a command to the computer controlling the equipment. I closely inspected my image in the monitor as the connections were made through numerous comm buoys.

Within minutes, I was looking at our agent in Vancouver, Amber Watson. I made sure there was no trace of cordiality in my manner or voice as I said, "Ms Watson."

She may have been nervous, but her voice was rock solid when she answered. "Shadow Broker. It is rare that you need to contact me directly. What may I do for you?"

Despite the confident speech, I could see the woman was less than pleased at being contacted by the Broker. I replied in an even voice, "I need you to contact an Alliance Marine general … she's stationed at the local base. I have information she needs, which I am forwarding to you now."

"Whatever you require, Shadow Broker."

I transmitted all the data Buchanan had gathered concerning Garrett Sutton's plans. Amber looked to her right as the information arrived, then spent a few moments scanning the highlights.

Returning her attention to my image on her screen, she said, "Will this General Park believe what I have to share with her?"

"We live in extraordinary times, Ms Watson. The general may be hesitant when you first contact her, but I believe you will have no problem convincing her of the validity of the data."

"Very well, Shadow Broker. I will contact General Park immediately."

"See that you do. Good day." As there was nothing else that needed to be said, I terminated the connection and sat back in my chair, glad that we had an agent actually living in Vancouver.

Buchanan must have been monitoring from outside the compartment; he entered as soon as the screen went blank and asked, "Okay, Sammy … what's next?"

"I promised Rachaél I would research the improvements Sutton has made to his residence and office. We need to look for hidden compartments—safe rooms, concealed passageways and the like—before she arrives to drop the hammer." I had the beginnings of a headache radiating from the back of my skull; I massaged my neck with one hand while holding my datapad in the other.

"Since we've been at this," Griff offered, "I've uncovered a number of people that can discreetly shadow a person, Sammy. All we need to do is identify the target … they'll take care of the rest."

"It's much too soon to be implementing such measures, Griff, and unfortunately, we'll not have an easy time keeping tabs on this particular general."

Buchanan slowly shook his head at the truth of my words before concluding, "Of that, I'm sure."

I returned to our combination dining area and lounge while Buchanan made his call to Thessia; I did the mental calculation and realized it was the wee hours of the morning in Armali … Griff was going to need to leave a message with the estate's captain of the guard, asking for a return call from Spectre Shepard at her convenience.

As I refilled my mug with fresh coffee, I heard the hatch slide open behind me, accompanied by quiet conversation between Oriana and Chinami'Taelas. I had nearly forgotten that Lawson would be having breakfast with me … I was going to outline what I needed her to accomplish in her position as our accountant. It gladdened my heart to see her happily chatting with Chinami as if she had known the quarian all her life, and it certainly couldn't hurt that Chinami had another female—besides myself—with whom she'd be able to share things.

After heating a pre-packaged breakfast tray, I grabbed it and my mug and strolled over to the table occupied by Oriana and Chinami. "Mind if I join you?"

Oriana's eyes twinkled as she smirked, "Yes, actually … we do." At my expression of disbelief, Chinami added in an equally snarky tone, "But only if all we'll be discussing is our jobs."

I set my tray and mug on the table across from the pair. Taking a seat, I looked at each in turn as I quietly said, "Gee … that's the main reason I asked you to have breakfast with me, Ori. I did not expect you to enlist Chinami in an effort to mutiny so soon after your arrival."

Oriana arched her eyebrows as her eyes went wide in shock. "I'm sorry, Sammy! I didn't mean … that is … you didn't really believe I was serious, did you?"

I studied the beautiful violet-blue eyes nervously looking back at me for a moment before allowing a grin to slowly spread across my face. "My apologies, Ori …" I looked at the quarian as I added, "… and to you, Chinami." Refocusing on Oriana, I added, "In addition to setting your agenda and directing your work here, I would hope you might consider me a friend."

Lawson slowly relaxed … her lips hinting at a suppressed smile. "I think I would like that, Sammy. I haven't had many acquaintances in my life, much less people I could count as friends." She smiled at the young quarian beside her, admitting, "That goes for you as well, Chinami. I have had almost no interactions with any of the galaxy's other races … certainly no quarians. I truly relish the opportunity to get to know you better."

Chinami happily replied, "I would very much like that, Oriana, and I welcome the opportunity to learn more about you."

Ori returned her attention to me as I said, "I'm really pleased the two of you are committed to becoming friends, but back to business, if you don't mind?"

"Of course, Sammy. Do you have an outline of my duties?"

I took a sip from my mug as I handed a datapad to her. "Here's your list, Ori. The various accounts you'll be overseeing are also on that datapad, and …" I activated my omnitool with a thought and sent the master pass-code to her device, "… I just transmitted the master pass-code to your omnitool. When you first access each account, you'll be asked to provide a personal pass-code in addition to the master code."

I took a few minutes to address my breakfast before it completely cooled off, finished my coffee and inquired, "I suppose I should have asked already, but just how secure is your omnitool, Ori?"

Frowning slightly, she replied, "As secure as I've ever needed. Why do you? …" her sentence died away as realization dawned. "… I don't expect it's as secure as you need it to be, Sammy."

I chortled, "We're going to have to provide you with an upgrade, Oriana … and it doesn't matter if you plan to leave us after only six months here … it's critically important this organization's chief financial officer has a secure omnitool, for however long she chooses to stay with us."

Ori looked down for several moments, slightly embarrassed to have the conceivably short duration of her tenure revealed in front of Chinami, with whom she had instantly felt completely at ease. Returning her gaze to my face, she quietly admitted, "Truthfully, I had forgotten about my possibly short stay here. I felt I needed an easy way out, should the confined environment of a space station prove to be too much for me to endure."

"That's understandable, given that you've almost always had solid ground under your feet." I finished the last few bites of my breakfast, took the tray to the cleanup station, refilled my mug with fresh coffee and returned to my seat. "As soon as we're done with breakfast, there are some research projects I need to complete. I had hoped to have the list whittled down by the time you arrived, but the tasks just seem to keep multiplying." I sipped my coffee as I thought about what I needed to get accomplished, then added, "There's a compartment on this level I'm upgrading, partially in response to your desire for grass under your feet … I'll show you after we have lunch."

Oriana smiled as she said, "After seeing the list on this datapad, I'm beginning to think I may not have time for breaks … or mid-day meals. Looks like I'm in for a lot of long days."

"Nonsense. Standard workday rules apply here, just like for any business … that's really important for you … and Chinami. Neither of you can do your jobs efficiently if you're tired or hungry."

Her reaction made me smile, as did her reply. "There's enough work listed on this device to keep two people busy—full time—for months. You need this work done as fast as possible, right?"

I sighed, "I will admit, it would be nice to have a proper and accurate accounting of all the Broker's assets, but I have every confidence in your abilities, Ori. Once you've been at it for a couple of weeks or so, I'll take you to Thessia so you can get outfitted with a proper omnitool. The trip will give me an opportunity to visit T'Sere Shipwrights so I can see what progress has been made on refitting the Rebekah."

I responded to her questioning look by explaining, "It's a thirty-year-old asari patrol craft owned by the Brokerage … been in storage for a majority of that time. T'Sere built it as the class leader of a series of system patrol craft they produced for their military. The Broker acquired it after it was decommissioned and placed on the civilian market."

A wry grin eked its way onto her lips. "So, you're not planning to ride around exclusively in Iringù-Eßizkur?"

"Oh, there'll still be a need to system-hop in Irin … she's faster than any other form of transport! Unfortunately, she tends to draw a lot of generally unwelcome attention, usually from the likes of dock managers and ground facility overseers." The last of my coffee was lukewarm by now; I finished it and rose from my seat. "Time to go to work. Let me know if you need anything, Ori." I nodded at Chinami and left for my private research area.

I had been working on an idea that sprang to mind on Thessia, when I had to quickly warn Griff to assume the role of the Shadow Broker for a visual comms call from General Park, in which we needed to convince her that I most definitely was not the Broker … that I was only being employed as a research assistant for him.

Our ploy had worked, but I did not like having to rush something so simple when that something could possibly unravel all Griff and I had done to make the Broker independent of Liara T'Soni.

I had spent most of my morning combing through archived records of all our comms calls between the Broker—with either Griff or myself sitting in the hot seat—and other people, whether agents or customers, then combining it all into several seamless, hour-long vids that would be the visual representation of the Broker, without having to resort to one of us actually appearing on camera.

I added a short, custom-made algorithm to the playback computer … this would introduce enough variation in the electronic 'fuzz' that served to further disguise the Broker's identity while on camera to—hopefully—prevent anyone from detecting the subterfuge. In order to decrease the possibility of a sharp-eyed agent suspecting what they were seeing was not real, I also added a line in the programming code that would prevent the same exact vid from being displayed twice in a row to the same person.

It wasn't completely foolproof, but I felt there was no other choice … there would be times in the future where both of us would have to be away from the station at the same time. As long as one of us was with Iringù-Eßizkur, the Broker could personally respond to any request for a conversation. As for the audio, either Griff or myself would still provide the 'live' voice for the Broker … we just would not appear on camera as we had done in the past.

I sent a text to Buchanan requesting he join me, so I could show him what I had done.

After lunch, Oriana accompanied Griff and me to the still-being remodeled Zero-deck hydroponics area. The husband-wife botanist team under the direction of Cordell Webb were transforming the formerly drab, run-down place into an area filled nearly to overflowing with flourishing plants of every variety, set among winding, grassy paths with granite flagstones on which we walked during our guided tour; Webb estimated the work would be complete in ten to twelve days.

There were large, translucent panels set in the side of the outer hull; along with a number of small skylights, they allowed filtered light from the system's star to illuminate the entire compartment. A small area was being set aside for installation of a few tables with chairs, suitable for taking a break … even having a beverage or eating lunch. Padded metal benches would be installed against the bulkheads under the deck-to-ceiling viewports, allowing one to enjoy a small measure of tranquility.

Oriana was speechless as her wandering gaze took in everything around her. When we finally sat down to talk, she gushed, "This is just … it's quite lovely, Sammy. Nothing I would ever expect to see in a space station, especially …"

"… Something owned by the Shadow Broker?" I finished her statement with the question. "You gave me the idea when you contacted me after our lunch at the Fiery Margay on Eden Prime."

She blushed slightly while admitting, "I did say I needed grass under my feet, didn't I?"

"I'm hoping this area will be an acceptable substitute for being groundside on Eden Prime."

"It's seems perfect, Sammy," she smiled. "I just never expected something this large!"

I grinned mischievously as Griff spoke up. "There's a bit of magic in what you're seeing, Ms Lawson. There are holo-emitters scattered in the overhead." He waved an arm to emphasize his next statement. "That expansive view in the distance? … it's a projection, added to give the illusion of greater depth."

I giggled as I added for him, "It'd probably be best not to walk more than a few meters past the end of the pathway at the far end … you just might run into the bulkhead."

I knew we had captured her heart when she asked, "Would it be alright if I stay here for a few more minutes, Sammy? This is simply beautiful … like an island of calm."

"Take all the time you need, Ori."

• ALLIANCE DREADNAUGHT SSV ORIZABA · AT LARGE •

"Council Spectre Rachaél Shepard, here to meet with Admiral Hackett." The Marine corporal, having accompanied Shepard from the transient hanger bay to the Fleet Admiral's office suite within the massive dreadnaught, turned and left the woman standing at parade rest.

Her imposing presence in her N7 armor had caused the admiral's aide a great deal of nervousness when last she'd visited; in her newly acquired Spectre armor, she was every bit as imposing as before, but the lieutenant wasn't as cowed by her presence. Smiling, he entered some information in the console on his desk; the door behind him unlatched and slid into its pockets as the old admiral appeared from within. "Shepard! Damned if you're not a sight to behold!" As he waved the woman into his office, he addressed his aide. "Lieutenant, hold my calls until we're done."

Following the Spectre into his office, he directed her to sit at the conference table, on which a service tray holding a coffee carafe and a pair of mugs bearing the seal of the Systems Alliance were awaiting them. Rachaél sat in the chair closest to the admiral's as he filled the mugs; setting one in front of her, he took the other and sat down. Taking an appreciative sip, he fixed her with his sharp blue eyes and asked, "Okay, Rachaél … talk to me … why in 'ell did you leave your new home to meet with me here, when we can just as easily speak on a secure comms channel?"

The Spectre took several sips of coffee, then set the mug on the table and leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingertips together in front of her chest. With her mouth set in a thin, tight line, she returned Hackett's gaze with one every bit as intense, saying, "I have some information for you, Admiral … info that will not make you or those at the top of the command structure very happy."

She retrieved a slim datapad from a thigh pocket. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she keyed the device on, placed it on the table, then gently slid it over to rest beside the admiral's coffee mug.

Hackett slowly picked up the device and skimmed through the contents displayed. After several long, silent minutes—in which Rachaél sipped her coffee—he returned his gaze to her face. A hint of anger colored his voice as he asked, "This has been verified? … all of it?" Her quiet acknowledgement that everything listed on the device was the unvarnished truth intensified his frown; he glowered unhappily, asking, "Under our goddamned noses, all these years?"

"Jack Harper never failed to discover the best ways to exploit people in positions that would most benefit Cerberus in their stated goals, Admiral. Unfortunately, credits were his most effective tools for gaining blind cooperation."

Hackett was studying the datapad a bit closer. "Murder for hire, Shepard? He actually had the Anixara destroyed, just to eliminate one turian?"

Rachaél compressed her lips together in a thin, straight line for a moment before replying, "Keep reading, Admiral." As he returned his attention to the small display, she explained, "A Marine general in Vancouver assigned a pair of operatives to discover how Cerberus intended to eliminate that turian. They uncovered the plot and developed a plan to prevent that ship's destruction. Unfortunately, the general was overruled from above, due primarily to Admiral Fletcher's orders."

Hackett, after taking several additional minutes to completely read the full report, angrily shook his head as he set the datapad on the table; leaning back in his chair, he finished his coffee, placed the mug in front of him, then clasped his hands together across his middle. "These agents? … their names are not mentioned in the report. Did they survive the war, at least?"

"They did … although neither remained in the service. One of them was severely injured during the final battle on Earth, Sir, and took the medical discharge six months after the doctors admitted they couldn't restore his body to the level of fitness he had previously enjoyed."

"And the other? … the unnamed specialist?"

"Made it through relatively unscathed, but …" Rachaél hesitated for a moment to carefully choose her next few words. "Jack Harper was so sure of his grip on highly placed Alliance personnel, he had absolutely no hesitation about suggesting that Lieutenant Commander Garrett Sutton arrange for the murder of that specialist, all because of how close she was getting to exposing the Cerberus connection to the Alliance."

With a thin smile, the old soldier said, "Sounds suspiciously like Samantha Traynor."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that suspicion, Sir … you'll understand my hesitation after you read all the files on that tablet. I will only say that you are … acquainted … with that woman."

Admiral Hackett had taken only a short time to completely review all the data with which Shepard had presented him; their discussion over salient points within the narrative had taken longer, to the point he insisted the Spectre have lunch with him before leaving the Orizaba.

As they ate, he wondered just how Shepard intended to place Lieutenant Commander Sutton in custody. "The man is well-protected in his offices and residence on the Citadel. I can't imagine you'll be able to extricate him without resorting to bloodshed." He took a couple of swallows of beer from his mug, used a linen napkin to blot moisture from his lips, then continued, "After his fall from grace at Arcturus … demotion in rank, subsequent transfer, he kept an extremely low profile while rebuilding his powerbase. By the end of the war, his previous rank had been restored and he no longer needed Jack Harper's credits."

Shepard finished the last of her salad, pushed back from the table slightly and sighed. "There's research being done as we speak, Sir. When I'm finally ready to go after him, there will be nowhere for him to hide."

Hackett felt he already knew the answer, but stated his opinion anyway. "If I was a betting man, I'd lay ten-to-one odds that Samantha Traynor is doing this … research … just as I believe her to be the source of the plethora of evidence against Sutton and Fletcher."

Rachaél hid her smirk by polishing off her beer, then chuckled. "I did say you were acquainted with her, Admiral. You may even suspect she's more than a simple research tech."

Hackett cocked his head. "I believe she's the goddamned Shadow Broker, Rachaél!—or has been working for him—ever since she resigned her commission."

Shepard's laugh was immediate. "Ms Traynor's abilities were the main reason Bill Cody … and you … wanted her to ride around in Iringù-Eßizkur, but … she's still only a research specialist, Admiral. I'll admit she's a damn good one… but it's pretty obvious she's not working alone on this project."

Shepard shook her head and huffed, before continuing, "I believe, to gather all of this data, she must be part of a larger network. But, I've worked with and spoken to the Broker … all while Traynor sat at my side … so it is most definitely not her." Rachaél put all of her conviction into her statement to her long-time commanding officer … and friend. Even given Liara's former occupancy of the position, Shepard was still surprised to find it wasn't a difficult lie to tell.

Besides herself and Liara, Rachaél could count on one hand the people that knew for a fact Samantha Traynor actually was the Shadow Broker; there were several more—like Hackett—that suspected, but did not know for sure. Rachaél intended to keep it that way, as there was no way to determine how quickly a determined assassin could end Sammy's life … or Buchanan's.

The old Admiral leaned back in his chair as a soft knock sounded at the entry. With a nod to Shepard, he used his omnitool to release the lock, allowing the steward to enter; the man silently collected the dishes and mugs, wiped the table, and was gone. Alone once more, Hackett spoke softly. "I simply have to trust you on this, Shepard … and you've never given me cause to do otherwise, so I will. I just ask that you keep me in the loop, Spectre, before … and after … you take that man down."

"You'll receive regular updates, Admiral … count on it."

• OMEGA STATION · OMEGA NEBULA, SAHRABARIK SYSTEM •

Tulana Varinian silently waited as the Desorspar—the small vessel used to transport the Shadow Broker strike team to Illium and back—slid like a ghost into its assigned berth in the bowels of Omega Station. The docks on this level were normally teeming with small-to-medium sized ore haulers, but the illegal trade in refined eezo had slowed sales of the exotic mineral to a mere trickle.

As soon as the cargo ramp touched the surface of the dock, the Shadow Broker strike team, led by Roshida B'Sayle, slowly walked from the ship; two members of the team, Catalina T'Gelvos and Condella Selani, guided the hover lift equipped stasis chamber, within which the main reason for their trip to Illium was confined.

The six asari paused when they reached the still waiting turian; Varinian walked up to the stasis chamber and, after taking a quick look through the top-mounted viewport, immediately drew back and rounded on B'Sayle. "She's supposed to be dead, Captain. Your instructions were to eliminate the Eclipse on Illium …"

Roshida was tired, which shortened an already short fuse; she interrupted, "… I was instructed, and I quote: 'Your primary target is to be returned here in the stasis container on board the transport,' end quote. Nothing in the mission parameters stated the primary target was to be killed."

"Eclipse was to be completely eliminated from Nos Aedelos, Captain. That meant everyone."

"Which has been done." The slightest hint of amorphous, blue tendrils of biotic power gathered at her hands, but she maintained an outwardly calm façade as she quietly stated, "The primary target was captured as requested, and securely brought back to Omega Station for someone's amusement; I can only assume that someone is Aria T'Loak."

"She will not be pleased by this, Captain" Tulana declared. "She doesn't wish to kill Sedaris herself … she only wants her head on a pike outside Afterlife."

"That's not your call to make, turian! You just arranged the fucking transport … I'm the mission commander." B'Sayle had had enough. "Understand? She'll probably enjoy snuffing out what remains of Jona Sedaris's life; she's an invalid! Even out of stasis, she's completely defenseless." The captain looked around at her team before continuing. "Besides, we get paid regardless of how the station's queen feels concerning our results, and I truly believe she's not foolish enough to stiff the Shadow Broker out of his fee for this little expedition."

Placing a datapad in front of Tulana, she said, "Signature and thumbprint, please."

The turian gave the datapad a quick glance and asked, "What in spirit's name is this?"

"Receipt for the stasis pod and its contents … because my team isn't going to Afterlife. So, it's now your responsibility to get Sedaris back to your boss." Roshida scowled at the turian's hesitation. "I don't have all day. Take it or leave it … but if you leave it, you get to explain to Aria why you returned without the pod. And, just so you know, this entire conversation is being recorded and uploaded to the Broker-net in real-time … as proof of delivery."

After several more moments of staring daggers at this brash asari, Tulana Varinian dropped her gaze to the datapad Roshida was holding. With a heavy sigh of defeat, she scrawled her name at the bottom, touched her thumb to the display, then activated her omnitool to call for assistance.

Roshida smiled grimly as she tucked the datapad away; picking up her travel bags, she turned to her companions and said, "Okay, crew … let's get to the Harashi so we can go home."

• AHN'KAHAR STATION, STRENUUS SYSTEM · HORSEHEAD NEBULA •

The fifteen days since I had assigned a strike team to eliminate the Eclipse from Nos Aedelos for Aria T'Loak had passed in relative peace and quiet. Oriana Lawson had joined us on the station and had made significant progress in untangling the twisted web of finances that enabled the Shadow Broker the freedom to poke his nose into the secrets of anyone and everyone in the galaxy. Additionally, Chinami'Taelas nar Jellicoe had done an excellent job of correcting the errors in the station's environmental control programs, and had subsequently agreed to stay on the station as the Broker's lead programmer; that she had quickly made friends with Ori was a real plus.

After reading the after-action report from Roshida B'Sayle, I knew that it—the peace and quiet I was enjoying—would not last; it was actually a relief when an incoming comms call revealed an always nervous Jipaw Zilorno. Apparently, our salarian agent on Omega Station had an upset pirate queen literally pounding on his door—she actually knew the location of his offices on the station, but would never lower herself to going there personally—demanding to speak directly with the Broker.

It took less than a minute for me to activate the playback computer that would present an image of the Broker; I donned a mic-equipped headset and sat in front of a split-screen monitor that would show a previously recorded image of either Griff or myself as the Shadow Broker alongside the image of Aria T'Loak. After exchanging a brief greeting with the salarian, he cross-faded his image to that of a thoroughly unhappy asari.

Knowing her connection to my comms was still being routed through Zilorno's office, and relaxed in the knowledge Aria couldn't actually see me, I leaned back in my chair as I greeted her. "Aria T'Loak … what service may the Shadow Broker render for you today?"

"Just skip the pleasantries, you pompous ass! What's the meaning of your team leaving Jona Sedaris alive in a damned stasis chamber? They were only supposed to bring me her head!"

Since I had already seen the full report from B'Sayle, it was relatively easy for me to keep any amusement from creeping into my voice as I replied, "Which they did. Is there some problem of which I am not aware? Did they not complete the assignment?"

"It was supposed to be separated from her fucking body!" she growled. "It was the only proof I required that your commandos had completed their primary task on Illium! What in Goddess' name do I do with her now she's on my station?"

I allowed some anger of my own to gradually creep into my voice as I answered her. "Nowhere in the mission parameters was that request stated, T'Loak, and I feel I must remind you I can have you eliminated as easily as I would crush a bothersome insect. You would do well to keep a civil tongue in your head."

I grinned at her reaction. She nervously licked her lips while glancing around; when she finally replied, her words held less bite to them. "You think this is funny? What am I to do with her?"

I prefaced my reply with a low chuckle. "Why, you're supposed to kill her … or are you no longer capable of getting your hands dirty in that manner?"

It was good to see that my words caused her to blanch slightly. "I did not think I would be required to stoop to her level, Broker."

"She is in a stasis pod, T'Loak; place it on display at the entrance to Afterlife. I'm sure the station's Eclipse contingent will appreciate being able to see their leader whenever they wish."

The glittering eyes narrowed in thought. After several moments, she nodded once and spoke. "That idea would actually have some merit, if I didn't have to worry the Eclipse would somehow deactivate the damned thing and set her free on the station."

"You're a smart person, T'Loak. Rig it with a tamper sensor – a failsafe. It would be simple to have the chamber self-destruct if any attempt was made to open or relocate it … the explosion would kill Sedaris and anyone foolish enough to make the attempt."

After thinking about my suggestion for a number of seconds, she slowly nodded again as a small grin appeared. "You have my apologies, Broker … and my thanks. I now believe having that miserable harpy trapped within a stasis chamber so rigged will be an even more effective deterrent to Eclipse activity than simply having her head on a pike at the entrance. Goodbye." She terminated her end of the connection, which cut my connection to Zilorno's equipment.

I removed my headset and stared unseeing at the blank screen for several minutes in silent contemplation of my actions, then stood and slowly walked to my adjacent research station.

I was so engrossed in my investigation into the various ways Garrett Sutton could leave his personal quarters, as well as his workplace in the consular offices near the various embassies on the Presidium, it was actually a surprise when Buchanan rapped his knuckles on the door frame and entered. "What the 'ell, Sammy? Are you going to knock off for dinner?"

I looked up at him and had to cover my mouth as a huge yawn escaped me. I didn't need to check my chrono to know it was late; my stomach had been grumbling for a while. "Wasn't watching the time, Griff … been busy mapping out all the ways that miserable rat bastard can escape from wherever he happens to be. Some of his routes actually run through Keeper tunnels."

"Have you heard back from Amber Watson? Did she warn General Park of our suspicions?"

I frowned slightly. "Haven't heard back since the Broker spoke with her week before last." I sighed, then added, without much faith in my words, "I'm sure the general is okay. Not much happens around that Alliance base about which we're unaware, and Watson would have contacted us if anything had happened."

Buchanan had a soft spot in his heart for his true friends … me, Xiùlán, General Park … and now Oriana and Chinami had been added to his list. He appeared all hard on the outside to everyone with whom he interacted, but he was actually pretty damned gooey on the inside. "I just don't want to see Park come to any harm, Sammy."

"Neither do I, Griff. Neither do I."

I went to bed while pondering RaeLee Park's dilemma regarding the insane amount of credits Garrus Vakarian was demanding from the Alliance in order to make the problem of the Anixara's destruction go away; as I was no longer in the Alliance military, that particular problem wasn't really mine to solve. My entire rationale for pursuing Fletcher and Sutton was to make them pay for their treachery towards the Ø7 program in general and myself in particular.

I realized with a start that I had become fixated on seeing both officers—Sutton in particular—pay for all the shit I had suffered because of their connections to Cerberus. I hated both of them for what they had done during the war … and prior to the invasion. Discovering that Admiral Fletcher had revealed my location to Michael Moser Lang, and that Jack Harper had directed Sutton to investigate the possibility of having me murdered on Arcturus Station, had only increased the antipathy with which I regarded every last one of them.

Harper was dead … and for the most part, Cerberus had died with him. Fletcher had chosen to eat a bullet rather than face the consequences of his treasonous crimes through the years. And Sutton … Sutton was still alive … still using the system to his own advantage … and apparently plotting the untimely death of General RaeLee Park.

Thinking about everything that had happened over the past few years—particularly the previous six months—was keeping me awake. I needed to speak with someone … someone outside of my own close circle of friends on this station. Someone … like Yuán Xiùlán. I needed to speak with my Inamorata … needed to see her.

Thinking about Xiùlán's love for me pushed all the other thoughts … uncertainty … fears … out of my mind. I'll call her in the morning, I promised myself. With the image of my Chinese Qíngrén in my mind, I quickly drifted off into pleasant slumber.