Chapter 35: Refuge in the Storm

The sun was just poking its head above the horizon, bathing the skies in a stunning mosaic of reds and oranges and yellows. Every cliff face, every boulder—hell, even the ground—was bathed in the sunrise, which brought out the richest hues imaginable. Beyond us, the smouldering remains of the Reaper lay in a crumpled, smoking heap.

Legion turned to me. "Shepard-Commander?"

"Yeah, Legion?"

"Does this unit have a soul?"

Then Tali stepped forward and shot him in the head. I turned to her in shock as Legion collapsed. "What the hell was that?"

She looked at me blankly. I pointed a finger down at Legion.

"Shepard-Commander?"

I looked back. He was standing up again. Intact—aside from the usual giant gaping hole in his chest. "Does this unit have a soul?"

The eye of the Reaper suddenly blazed to life and vaporized him in a single blast.

"Shepard-Commander?"

Legion was back again.

"Does this unit… have a…?"

A Banshee teleported out of nowhere, reached out with her elongated talons and tore him apart.

"Shepard-Commander?"

Oh God.

"Does this unit…"

A Phantom decloaked and cut Legion's head off with a single sweep of her sword.

"Shepard-Commander?"

Make it stop…

"Does this unit..."

The Reaper lunged forward and stepped on him like a bug.

"…have… a soul?"

I was still half-asleep after yet another night of horrific fantasies. So I didn't catch all of the banter from the cockpit as the Normandy docked. Though I believe EDI mentioned something about the increased challenge of navigating through the docking area due to all the refugee ships clogging the lanes.

By the time I actually entered Docking Bay D24, though, I was a little more awake. Awake enough to overhear a soldier's conversation. "Ma'am, I had a friend in security at Sonax, and there was definitely Prothean tech on Garvug. I know the Valhallan Threshold is Reaper territory now, but Prothean tech could help the Crucible." He listened to the reply. "Yes, ma'am. Yes, I'm aware this is an unsecured channel. Yes… understood. Thank you, ma'am."

Once he was finished, I stepped forward. "Excuse me. I recovered Prothean data drives from Garvug. If you give me your contact info, I'll have them brought here. You can send them wherever you think they could be used—if you think you can refrain from mentioning secret projects or using unsecured channels."

"Commander Shepard?" he said in surprise. "Thank you." He looked a little sheepish before adding "I'm sure that will help with… ah, any operation we have going."

"Better," I approved.

I got on the comm and told EDI to run a security check on this guy. If he checked out, she was to have Cortez to pull the data drives out of storage and send them over. Having done that, I was about to move on when I overheard another conversation.

"I've got your briefing, Private. Let's fill you in before the squad arrives. The Alliance is posting us to an eezo mining facility on Zahni. It's a low gravity planet. Toxic atmosphere. You'll be expected to maintain full survival gear. Any questions?"

"Are we playing security, Sergeant Olembe?"

Translation: Was this some babysitter assignment that any idiot could do? "No, Private, we are not," OIembe bit out. "Have you discovered a way to run FTL spaceships without an eezo core, Private Talavi?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then consider this a serious assignment. Intel's expecting a Cerberus raid."

"Cerberus?"

"There a problem?"

"I thought we were fighting Reapers, ma'am," Talavi gulped.

"Give it a week," Olembe replied. "You could be."

"I'd like to request a transfer to a zone with Reapers, Sergeant."

Come again?

Olembe had the same reaction. "And may I ask why you think your deployment deserves special treatment, Private?"

"I think I'll do better against the Reapers than Cerberus, ma'am."

"And what combat experience against Reapers are you basing this on?" Olembe asked sarcastically.

"Um… none, ma'am."

"Outstanding."

Talavi took a deep breath. "Sergeant… I have a little brother. He went off-planet to try and make money. Hung with a lousy crowd. A week before the Reapers, my brother sent me this excited message. He'd found an organization that offered lots of pay and benefits. Even though he wasn't supposed to, he snuck me a photo of the shiny new armour they gave him. Shiny new white and yellow armour, ma'am."

Aw, crap.

"You're sure of what you saw?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Heard from your brother since then?"

"No, Sergeant."

In other words, this private didn't want to be put in a situation where she might have to fight—and kill—her own brother. Not if she had a say in the matter. You kinda had to feel for her. Olembe clearly felt the same. "All right, Talavi. I'll see if I can get you fighting Reapers instead of Cerberus."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Yeah, you won't thank me so much when you're eye-deep in husks."

While the sergeant was giving Private Talavi a few more Reaper-related nightmares, I headed over to Huerta Memorial. There were a couple people who might be able to use some of the stuff I'd found.

"There's got to be something, Dr. Kerry," a salarian doctor was saying when I walked in. "I don't know what Cerberus was packing, but we're going to lose this patient."

"I can't think of anything beyond what we've already tried, Dr. Silon," Dr. Kerry sighed. "Without a new treatment plan, we're stuck."

"Excuse me," I interrupted. "I came across this treatment plan at a chemical plant." I grabbed a spare datapad and transferred the relevant file from my omni-tool before passing it over. "Could it help?"

"Treatment?" Dr. Kerry said blankly, taking the datapad and turning it on. "What is… I've never seen this kind of process before. Dr. Silon?"

Dr. Silon took the datapad and perused the plan for himself. "Huh. Probably experimental. It's a long shot, but let's run some simulations and see if it might work for our patient."

They were so excited; they ran off without thanking me. Eh, story of my life. Besides, if the patient made it, I think I can forego a thank you. (1) Just around the corner was another salarian doctor who was struggling with another patient.

Though he seemed to be fighting more with someone on the other end of the comm at the moment. "I understand Palaven is very busy, but this is one of your own generals. He was stabbed with a poisoned blade by a Cerberus soldier during the attack on the Citadel. We can't identify the toxin. We're barely keeping him alive right now. It's some form of neurotoxin. If you could look at our charts… of course. I understand. Even a general is just one man. Good luck."

Ah, the warm sympathy of bureaucracy. Not much I could do—oh, wait! There was something I could do! "Sorry to butt in. I overheard what you said. I found this formula at a Cerberus station. It looks like a poison tailored to turians."

The doctor looked it over after I transferred the formula to his datapad. "Let me see… yes, I think this is it! With this, we should be able to come up with an antidote! Thank you. The general might pull through because of this."

There you go! (2)

No sooner had I entered the Citadel Embassies than I ran into an asari talking to herself.

"They hit where? Damn it. How are we supposed to predict the moves of an enemy we don't understand? Divert to… crap, do we have any AI-enabled fragments of Sovereign? Any Reaper code I could analyze?"

Okay. Maybe she was also on the comm.

"No? Well, then they'll keep outmaneuvering the Second Fleet and asari worlds will keep burning." She closed the comm channel with a vehement stab of her finger and cursed.

I was in a bit of a rush, but she was right here and this would only take a moment. "Excuse me, I'm Commander Shepard. If you promise to be careful, I think I've got something that could help you out."

She looked at what I had to offer. "A Reaper code fragment. Yes, I can use this to try to predict their strategic processes. We might be able to save a few worlds with this, Commander. Thank you."

"You can thank me by forwarding anything you find to Admiral Hackett of the Alliance, Primarch Victus of the Hierarchy or Urdnot Wrex of the…" I had to stop and think. The krogan didn't exactly have a formal organized government. So what was I supposed to call them? "…of the…krogan," I finally said. Then I thought about the salarians. And the quarians. And the geth. "Hell, do me a favour and send your findings to anyone who might be able to make use of it."

"I will," the asari promised. "Thank you again." (3)

As I left the asari, I spotted an old human woman talking to an asari. She looked familiar. Had I seen her before?

Good morning. I… I'm not sure why… there was something I had to do and…"

"Oh… are you looking for someone, ma'am?"

Hey! I did see her before. She was asking about her son, as I recalled.

"I… maybe. I have these papers, but I'm not sure why."

She seemed very confused. The asari, on the other hand, had a sad but resigned look on her face. I suddenly had the feeling that this woman was a bit senile or something and had done this song and dance before. War was confusing at the best of times, but this…

"Here. Why don't I take care of these for you? Would that help?"

"Yes. Yes, please. You know, you remind me of someone. My son. He's dating an asari. She looks remarkably like you do. He's so very happy."

…this made it worse.

"Thank you. That's wonderful, ma'am."

"Oh, please. Call me Teresa."

There was nothing I could do. For all my accomplishments and talents and kleptomania, there was nothing I could do if this woman was suffering what I suspected she was suffering. Nothing at all. Hopefully that asari could help her out. Because I had something else to worry about.

I should explain.

Just as I was leaving Huerta Memorial, I got an e-mail alert. Now normally I wouldn't care. I'm not one of those people who have systems set up to inform me every single time I get an e-mail or message. Having said that, I do have an alert set up to inform me when certain people or people with certain levels of authority send me something. Usually because it's something important. Like this:

Subject: Durlesh Mole
From: Adrien Victus

Commander Shepard:

Cerberus just ambushed a turian cruiser full of high-ranking Hierarchy officials. The cruiser managed to escape, but its location was top-secret. Cerberus couldn't have located that ship without inside information, and the only other person who knew the cruiser's position—aside from the crew, the officials and myself—was volus ambassador Din Korlack. When I made a few discrete inquiries, I received ugly rumours of a bounty out for his head.

My advisors insist I can't bring these accusations against Korlack myself. I admit they're right. The turian and volus economies are tightly intertwined, and now isn't the time for the political crisis that would result. But the security of our fleets is at stake.

I ask that you investigate Korlack in your capacity as a Spectre, and find out if he is, indeed, a Cerberus mole. I've forwarded information on his last know location to the Spectre office on the Citadel.

Regards,
Primarch Victus

So I went to the Spectre Terminal and looked through the data Victus sent me. Biometric security sensors hadn't detected him in any public location within the last hour. His last known position was an office suite near the human embassy.

There was a turian embassy guard standing watch outside the office in question. "Was the volus ambassador here earlier?" I asked.

"Yes he was, Commander."

"I need in. Spectre business."

He looked at my ID. "Yes, sir. Give me a second to unlock the door."

The office was fairly standard. Standard light and dark grey colour scheme. Lots of desks with computers. A set of widescreens set against a wall. That sort of thing. I sat down by one of the computers and began searching around.

After an hour, I was ready to give up. There was nothing but report after memo after e-mail, all of them dull and banal and dry. I was just about to stop and call the authorities when I noticed something odd with some recent files. If it wasn't for the filename extensions, they looked very much like log entries. Recent ones at that. Sure enough, three of them were actually audio log entries. I played the first one:

"You've never been this uncooperative with us before, Ambassador," a woman said.

"*hiss* That's because you were actually doing some good in the galaxy before!"

"Has that changed? How many colonies would be gone if we hadn't taken action against the Collectors?"

Wait a minute…

"*hiss* Too many. But fighting the Alliance or the Hierarchy—"

"Must continue. In order to end the war. We understand it took a lot for you to reach out to Cerberus, Ambassador Korlack. We ask that you trust us a little longer."

Holy. Cow. Din Korlack, ambassador for the Vol Protectorate, was leaking intel to Cerberus? I quickly played the second entry:

"*hiss* You people are monsters!"

"Ambassador, please—"

"*hiss* Hundreds dead. *hiss* Udina betraying the Council! *hiss* I should have cut ties with you ages ago!"

"And what will that accomplish now?" the Cerberus contact asked sweetly. "The risks you took by passing information to Cerberus… it's left you in an interesting position. If you sever contact, we can't protect you from the consequences."

"*hiss* I don't… *hiss* I have no time for this."

"We'll speak again. Have a good day, Ambassador Korlack."

Well now. Something told me that Korlack had decided to cut ties—or had been suspected of being ready to do so—and someone decided to step in. Hence his mysterious disappearance. This didn't look good for him. Reaching over, I selected the last entry:

"*hiss* Someone's put a price on my head! *hiss* I can't go to C-Sec, *hiss* but Cerberus has plans. *hiss* An entire turian colony rests on my life. *hiss* If anyone finds this, I hid a tracking receiver and comm unit in the office suite beside the human embassies. *hiss* Wait… *hiss* who are you? *hiss* What are you—"

A loud commotion broke out over the speakers. Sounded like a struggle.

"Damn Cerberus has them everywhere nowadays."

I started at that voice. It was Zaeed! I hadn't seen him since I turned myself in.

"You gonna go on about them all night?" a second voice, female, asked.

"Just get the car up here quick. Little bastard's even heavier than he looks."

I quickly downloaded the log entries before searching for the unit Korlack had mentioned. The tracking device fit in the palm of my hand, while the comm unit was shaped like one of those wireless earpieces that were all the rage back in the early twenty-first century. I wedged it into my ear just in time to hear Zaeed's gravelly voice. "How long 'tilwe kill Korlack?"

"Once the credits go through," the woman replied. "It's been a while since you've been in the game, Zaeed. I was beginning to think you weren't interested in the money."

"I'm not," Zaeed said darkly.

"Right," a third, deeper and definitely male, voice said. "You're in this because Korlack worked for Cerberus. What'd they do to you, anyway?"

"None of your goddamn business. He waking up?"

"This is Commander Shepard," I quickly whispered. "I'm a Spectre. Can you hear me?"

"*hiss* Yes! *hiss* Yes, I can hear you."

"I know you're in trouble and I'm here to help," I said soothingly. "Tell me where you are."

"*hiss* Ah… *hiss* we're still near the Presidium."

Korlack raised his voice as I stepped out. "*hiss* C-Sec will check Selkish Arms when they realize I'm missing."

Selkish Arms. Got it. I began speed walking towards the nearest VI terminal. Time to ask Avina where the nearest Selkish Arms branch was.

"They won't give a damn when they realize you sold them out to Cerberus," Zaeed growled.

"*hiss* Wait, *hiss* Cerberus is planning to attack a colony that—"

"Shut up!"

"Stay calm," I said. "Help's coming."

There were too many people crowded around Avina. Thankfully, I had an omni-tool, extranet access and Spectre-level clearance for the fastest bandwidths. One search later, I was jogging up to the Presidium Commons. "Listen: one of your abductors is a human male. Gravelly voice, lost the use of one eye, goes by Zaeed. He used to work for Cerberus. Ask him why he's here."

"*hiss* Why… *hiss* why go after your old employer, Zaeed?"

"How you know my name all of a sudden?" Zaeed asked suspiciously.

"Good question," the woman added.

I reached Office 94, but it was locked. I checked my omni-tool. Yep, this was Selkish Arms all right. But the tracker… said Korlack was somewhere behind me. "Damn," I muttered under my breath. "I'm gonna need some more time. "Ambassador Korlack, tell Zaeed he needs you alive to stop Cerberus."

"*hiss* Cerberus is after a turian colony. *hiss* Kill me, and they get it."

"Drop my name," I added, turning around.

"*hiss* Shepard's investigating. He's… *hiss* a recent acquaintance."

"How recent?" Zaeed asked.

"*hiss* Very."

Apparently he didn't remember the first time we met, just before I became a Spectre. He and the elcor ambassador—who had a beef with the Consort—were sharing office space. I'd bugged them with a lot of questions. No one remembers the little people, I guess. I began walking down the corridor, eyes carefully following the tracking device.

"Prove it."

"Tell him I hope he's not still bitter over the way things ended on Zorya," I said. (4)

Korlack repeated my words.

I suddenly remembered an intel report Liara had compiled recently. "Tell him that I know he's been buying a lot of… presents lately. Jessie's a lucky girl." (5)

Korlack said that too.

"Shit," Zaeed cursed. "All right, I'm listening."

"You're what?" the woman squawked.

"You still waiting for the credits, right? Won't hurt to keep him alive a minute longer."

"Huh," the third voice grumbled. "Won't hurt to split the bounty one less way either."

The tracking device was pointing to Room 80. Which was locked, of course. I was just hacking the lock when—

"Get him! Get—"

A gunshot rang out. Then another. Then another.

The door hissed open and I ran in. It was only after I took a few steps that I remember I wasn't carrying a gun. Thankfully I didn't need it: Zaeed had taken out his former partners for me. "Been awhile, Zaeed," I said casually.

"Shepard," he nodded. "Glad I wasn't just making an ass of myself over a hunch. Undisciplined bastard."

"Come again?"

"Talkin' about me. This is what I get for signing up at the last minute. Didn't have time to check things out. If it wasn't for you telling that damn volus what to say—"

"Right. Where is Korlack?"

"*hiss* I'm here, Commander." The ambassador rose from the couch he'd been hiding behind. "*hiss* I… *hiss* you saved my life. *hiss* Someone put a bounty on my head. (6) *hiss* Probably because they thought I was still with Cerberus."

"Did those mercs hurt you?" I asked.

"*hiss* I'm fine. *hiss* They wanted me alive until the fees were delivered for my capture. *hiss* They didn't care about what I had to say."

"You kept mentioning a colony in your message."

"*hiss* Information on their planetary defence system. *hiss* They'll strike soon."

"Which planet?" I demanded.

"*hiss* If I tell you which planet they're attacking, *hiss* Cerberus will know I turned traitor."

"'Turned'?" Zaeed snorted. "You already betrayed your own people."

"Besides, I thought you left Cerberus!" I added. "Look, we saved your life! Tell us what planet you put in danger and we can protect you!"

"*hiss* I can protect myself, but I need more time. *hiss* Look, I can offer a bargain! *hiss* The volus bombing fleet. *hiss* In tactical terms, it's worth far more than a colony."

Zaeed and I exchanged a disgusted look. Only a politician would sell intel to the enemy that put an entire colony at risk, narrowly escape a death warrant by the turians when they found out, but refuse to divulge the identity of said colony because he wanted to save his own ass. "Or you could give us both," I offered, "and still get protection."

"*hiss* You can warn the turians there'll be an attack, Commander. *hiss* That should be general enough to ward off suspicion."

"You tried to do the right thing before," I tried instead. "It failed because you trusted the wrong people. Now here's your chance to make up for it. You can give us volus support and help us make Cerberus pay for using you."

"*hiss* I can't…"

"You can."

"Waste of everyone's time trying to appeal to a volus's better nature, Shepard," Zaeed sneered.

"No, it's not." I turned to Korlack, crouched down and looked him in the eye. Well, the eye slits of his pressure suit. "Right?"

…

"*hiss* Aephus. *hiss* The colony's name is Aephus. *hiss* Cerberus wants its shipyards."

"And the bombing fleet?" I prodded.

"*hiss* Yes, it's yours, Commander."

"Thank you," I said. "Now someone's probably alerted Citadel Security about the gunshots by now. When they arrive, you can give them a full statement about everything. How long you were feeding intel to Cerberus, when you stopped, what these bounty hunters tried to do, how one of them saved your life after I intervened and how you're transferring control of the volus bombing fleet to the Systems Alliance. Got it?"

"*hiss* All right. *hiss* You have my thanks."

"Took him long enough to spit that out," Zaeed muttered. "Listen, Shepard, you can handle this, yeah?"

"I guess. But what about you? Don't you want to catch up on old times?"

"Later. C-Sec won't be too pleased with this mess. Catch up with me at the docks if you like."

Dealing with the aftermath took a while. Zaeed was right: the C-Sec officers who arrived on the scene weren't happy to hear they had a double homicide on their hands. They were less than pleased to find out an ambassador and a Spectre were involved. They weren't thrilled at being told that this was an open-and-shut case that Korlack would be able to explain with a full statement. And they were positively livid when I told them that they wouldn't be able to arrest anyone—read: Korlack—or bring them up on any charges—read: treason—because of political and intelligence concerns that I, a Council Spectre, might or might not be able to explain to them.

I sympathized. I really did. Some hotshot waltzing in and railroading over their investigation and their jurisdiction because of some vague 'galactic security' spiel. But Victus had a point when he said that this could be a bombshell on galactic unity in general and turian-volus cooperation in particular. Besides, if there was a chance we could use Korlack to feed misinformation to Cerberus, we had to try. I just wanted to make sure Korlack would pay in some manner. (7)

Once I was sure that we got the bombing fleet and Korlack wouldn't get away scot-free, I went on my way. That was how I overheard the following conversation between a human soldier and an asari embassy clerk:

"My wife was just sent back to active duty and I'm about to get shipped out, too. I was told you might be able to help me?"

"Of course," the clerk nodded. "You're Lieutenant Diana Page, correct? Neeota's spouse?"

To say Page was flabbergasted would be an understatement. "I—yes! How did you know that?"

"We keep identity information on all permanent Citadel residents engaged in formal relationships with asari. That way, should anyone require diplomatic aid, we can ensure prompt assistance."

"That's wonderful! Then you can help me send my daughter back to my wife's family?"

"I… I'm afraid, however, that might be a bit difficult."

So much for prompt assistance.

"Look, I've filled out all the forms you requested and jumped through every hoop." Page ran a hand through her hair. "I don't even know where Neeota is and I'm going to be deployed soon, too. Everyone's been called back to active duty since Earth was attacked."

"I understand," the clerk tried, "but—"

"I can't leave my daughter here alone. I need to send her back to Thessia, to her family!"

"These things are very complicated and usually take a very long time. It's even worse with everything going on right now. I'm very sorry. If you can't accept a fostering by proxy until her file is processed, there's nothing more I can do."

Ah, the tender loving mercies of bureaucracy.

"Perhaps you could send the girl to your side of the family?"

Page made a face like she'd eaten a mouthful of sour milk and rotten fruit. "Are you kidding? My family disowned me when I married Neeota. Wanna guess why?"

I didn't need to guess. Used to be that interracial marriages were... frowned upon. Then it was homosexual marriages. Nowadays, it's interspecies marriages that riles up the conservative elements. The more things change…

You should've seen the look of shock on the clerk's face. "Oh, my."

Just in case she hadn't figured it out yet, Page added "They'd be happier to see those Cerberus assholes than they would be to see me."

"I… understand why you would not wish to send your daughter to them."

"Yeah, well. Your 'understanding' doesn't help me or my daughter much, right now."

The clerk looked around, as if making sure no one was watching, then leaned towards Page. "I'll do some more investigation and see if there's anything else I can try. Come back in a couple days at this time and talk to me."

"Yeah, whatever."

Hopefully that would get sorted out, because I had to find a certain military trainer for the Asari Sixth Fleet in Purgatory. My intel led me to a corner that was only slightly deafening, where said asari was yelling at someone over the comm... "No, the problem is that our people are terrible at making war!"

Wait a second. Did she say there was something the asari weren't good at? The mind boggles!

"The Library of Asha had sacred texts on the ways of the huntress—the defining works on the art of battle. But the Nimbus Cluster has already fallen, and our people are here dancing instead of fighting."

She wasn't kidding. There were a lot of asari dancing around in here. Well, party time was over. "Hi there! I couldn't help but overhear your situation and I think I can help. I recovered some texts from a library in Reaper-controlled space a while ago. If you'd like, I can have them waiting for you at Bay D24."

"Really?" The asari looked like she was going to say no at first. Probably something like what were the odds that this human would have what I was looking for.

"Yeah. Let me see." I pulled up the list on my omni-tool. "Um, we have 'Light from the Shadows,' 'Path of the Justicar,' 'The Way of—'"

"Let me look at that." The asari practically grabbed my hand and yanked it towards her so she could read the omni-tool's screen. "This is exactly what I need. If we make these texts required reading, we'll have every asari maiden thinking with the mind of a huntress. Thank you! Now I just need to get Matriarch Aethyta to back me up…" (8)

As I was turning around and pondering the idea that Aethya would have something to do other than serve drinks or keep an eye on Liara, I overheard a turian and a human chatting. "I miss Afterlife," the turian growled.

"Yeah," the human agreed. "This place is so clean, it squeaks. Anyhow, thanks for the drink—but why'd you drag me out here?"

"You, uh, still got that merchant freighter?"

"Yeah."

"Looking for work?"

"Might as well. What you got?"

The turian leaned towards her. I had to strain my ears to catch what he had to say next: "The Alliance is bringing medical supplies in by the ton. I know a guy in Customs. Crates of medi-gel from weeks ago are still sitting on the dock. My friend finds us a few loose crates, you bring in your ship, we split it. Fifty-fifty."

Something told me I might have to step in.

"What do you say?"

"I say… I should slit your goddamn throat."

Or not.

"What? What the hell's your problem?"

The human shoved the turian. Hard. "I'm not skimming from the Alliance."

"Since when are you so chummy with those pricks?"

"Screw you. You been watching the news?"

"Sure."

"Know what's happening to Earth while we're sitting here?"

"Calm down already."

"Okay, sure, the Alliance wasn't good for business before, but this is war. They're dying for us. I'm not stealing medicine from them."

The turian rolled his eyes. "Your patriotism is touching."

There were tears in the human's eyes as she seized the turian's clothes. "My planet's on fire, asshole! Tell your friend in customs every goddamn package of medi-gel better stay where it is. Or maybe C-Sec needs to know where their last gun shipment went."

"Fine." The turian threw up his hands. "I'll pass on the word. Guess that's all I have to say. I think you should finish your drink."

"Yeah. Think I should."

As the turian stalked away, I made sure to snap a few pictures of him. Figured I'd summarize what I'd overheard and send it—along with the pics—to Bailey. Just in case.

But that was kind of… uplifting. Heart-warming, in a way. I'd seen a lot of profiteering and desperation throughout this damn war. To see that even criminals and people living in the grey area of the law had a line they wouldn't cross was… reassuring. Like a reminder that this was what I was fighting for.

With that in mind, I left Purgatory. I was just clearing my ears from the noise when I spotted a salarian soldier talking to a human woman in civvie garb. "How's the head?" she asked.

"Good," the salarian replied. "Concussion's almost gone."

"Good. That's… good. When I heard you were injured…"

"It was stupid," he said, shaking his head in self-recrimination. "I should've ducked when that wall came down. Something good has come out of all this, though. I got new equipment. They sent me a set of Vohrtix armour. Man, someone in supply sure messed that one up!"

"Oh! I heard those are pretty good."

"It's great! I'd only be safer inside a tank. It's why Vohrtix gear costs more than I make in a year."

"Will your new heavy armour keep you safe?" the civvie asked. "I've watched reports on some of the things you're fighting."

"Well, it won't stop a Reaper, but an extra second of shielding can be life or death."

"So Vohrtix makes good shield capacitors?"

"The best. And they don't skimp on plating either. I love it."

"Sounds like you want to get back out there to try it out."

"You know… a little." The salarian grinned. "Can't wait to show it off to the team. Maybe I can take point more often now. Anyhow, enough about my armour. Let's find the gang and celebrate while I'm still here. Where'd you park?"

The civvie hesitated. "I… took rapid transit."

"Come on, you have the fanciest ride on the Citadel. And I saw that new paint job!"

"I, uh… I sold it a couple weeks ago."

The salarian clearly couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What? But you loved that car."

"I know."

"You never shut up about that car!"

"I know."

"Wait, wait," the salarian frowned. "You asked if I got 'heavy armour.' I never said it was heavy armour."

"Uh…"

"And since when do you know anything about shield capacitors?"

"I read about them."

"Did you say you sold your car a few weeks ago? Because that's around the time… I got… sent this new armour…" He trailed off as he finally put two and two together.

"Hey! It's late and I'm not letting my friend miss a night at Purgatory, right? You want to go in or do you want to talk about my car some more?"

"No, you're right. Let's go in." The salarian stood up and gave her a hug before adding "And I'm buying you some goddamn drinks."

Now that that was over, I had a few more people to find.

One of them was a volus who'd been crying out to anyone and everyone about some religious texts. I finally tracked him down in the lobby of a bank that was still dealing with the aftermath of the Cerberus coup attempt, judging by the papers strewn on the floor and the big scorch mark on the wall. Ignoring all that, I walked up to the volus. "I recovered the Book of Plenix. It's waiting for you in Bay D24."

"*hiss* Earth-Clan, *hiss* this is a priceless gift. *hiss* Thank you. *hiss* You may help my people remember themselves. *hiss*"

"Happy to help," I chirped. "Well, I gotta go."

With that done, I thought I'd head back to C-Sec and see how Korlack was doing. More specifically, I wanted to make sure he wasn't trying to weasel out of anything. But I kept getting distracted by arguments.

Then there was an asari scientist who was having an urgent conversation. "Listen, I thought of something. No, it can't wait until I'm back from my break. The Hesperia Period. Their statues had legendarily accurate Prothean inscriptions. Can we use that? Yes, I know the Athena Nebula is off-limits, but this… classified project needs all the Prothean intel we can find. I haven't found any reliable pictures, but just think… if those statues had something that could help us, even today… I'm sorry, I have to call you back." She turned off the comm and looked at me.

Well, at least this person knew how to exercise comm discipline. "Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy," I introduced myself. "I think I know which project you're talking about and I have a Hesperia-period statue on my ship. It's in Bay D24. If you could give me your contact info, I'll pass it to my crew and they can hand it over."

"That's excellent news. As soon as I get it, I'll have it sent to that project right away. Thank you so much for your help." (9)

Then there was Sellea, a salarian whose plight—unstable weather conditions threatening his sister's colony's egg clutches—I'd overheard during my last visit. As luck would have it, he was in the exact same spot. "I couldn't help but overhear your earlier conversation. I found these heating stabilizer schematics on Noveria. Maybe they could help."

"This… is amazing!" he exclaimed. "The colonists—my sister—will be most pleased! Thank you. I am in your debt." (10)

On a sadder note, I had an asari widow to find. The one who's bondmate was one of the commandoes who attacked the Ardat-Yakshi monastery on Lesuss. I finally found her looking at one of the fountains on the Presidium as she made a call. "Her name is Tashya Porae. Of course. P-o-r-a-e. No, I realize you can't tell me where she was deployed. Can you inform me if she's under orders not to communicate with her family? It's… been a while since I heard from her. Uh huh. But I would be contacted if she was injured, correct? Yes, I'm listed as her bondmate. Yes, I can hold."

"Weshra?" I asked. "I have an audio log for you."

"For me?" she asked blankly. "Where did this come—oh, no. Oh, Tashya."

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am," I offered. It seemed like just another set of rote platitudes.

"Thank you for bringing this back," Weshra said. "At least now I know what happened."

As long as she got closure, that was all that mattered.

Next was the C-Sec officer who was dealing with all the surprises left behind by the aforementioned Cerberus coup. "Damn it, another Cerberus trap? Bomb or turret? Uh huh. How many this time? Damn it. All right, clear the area until you've done a full sweep. We need a way to find their tech and shut them down safely. What was that? No, E-Crimes still doesn't have anything. The tech they got off the bodies of a few Cerberus engineers self-destructed when they took it apart. Not much we can do… except pick up the pieces after another turret guns down a mom and her kids."

"I might have a solution there," I called out. After introducing myself, I transmitted over a few files from my omni-tool. These are control schematics for Cerberus turrets. Maybe these will help."

"Damn right they will. I'll have E-Crimes dig into them. Might even help us find the little presents Cerberus left for us. Thanks a lot. This is gonna save lives."

The officer pointed me to one of his colleagues who was investigating a similar incident at some place called Apollo's Café. He was conducting a forensic examination when I arrived. "Autorecord on. Scene contains large scorch marks. Looks like three fatalities. The entire area's shot to hell. Precision shots. I heard the geth use jamming towers to prevent auto-targeting. If we had tech like that, we might save some lives the next time somebody attacks the Citadel."

"Now you do," I said. "Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy. I pulled this from one of the geth jamming towers you just mentioned. Maybe you can use it."

"How the hell did you—never mind," the C-Sec officer quickly said. "Tech like this, I don't care where it came from. I'll have my people run with this. If we can get it working, this jamming tech will make this place a lot safer. When the war comes back here, maybe we can save more lives."

But the most bizarre meeting was one with a salarian war strategist in the Citadel Embassies, right in the corridor where I'd met Korlack and Zaeed. "No, the krogan are the only race that can fight on the toxic worlds, so they need support," he was saying when I walked up to him. "Well, ideally, something like a kakliosaur. They're good in mountains, immune to toxins, ferociously loyal to their riders. Unfortunately, they were driven to extinction during the Rachni War. So unless we can engineer something new, krogan on toxic worlds will have to fight on foot without any support other than those tomkahs."

"Actually, I found a kakliosaur skull preserved in amber," I said. "Maybe you could extract some DNA from it and clone it?"

"You're kidding."

I wish I was. It was like Jurassic Park all over again. (11) "Nope."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Well, um… if the genetic material is intact, we could… hmm. We've got cloning facilities on Sur'Kesh. Kakliosaur genes were remarkably pliable. Cloning might be effective."

"Just don't go mixing in any frog genes."

"Why would we do that?"

"Never mind."

"I'm more worried about the way kakliosaurs mark their territory. Hopefully the krogan won't mind."

Moving on…

I thought I'd go back to C-Sec and see how Korlack was doing—or, rather, whether he'd tried to weasel his way out again. But I kept gettingdragged into arguments. And by 'dragged into,' I mean sticking my nose into other people's business.

There was a C-Sec officer trying to obtain vids from a café owner, who was less than inclined to hand them over. Probably because the officer was taking a page out of Garrus's old book and trying to cut corners. Once I suggested they both cool off, the officer promised to go through proper channels and the owner promised to pass on any information he heard.

Then there was the merchant who wanted to sell weapons to anyone wishing to defend themselves and his partner who was freaked over how C-Sec would react. After I pointed out that a bunch of civvies shooting at anything that moved would hardly make the Citadel safer, they agreed to submit a proposal to the Citadel authorizing C-Sec to train a civilian militia.

Speaking of C-Sec, there was the officer who insisted on enforcing the law as it stood and the officer who wanted to focus on terror-related incidents and let the 'lighter' misdemeanours slide. They might have gone on and on had I not reminded them that what the inhabitants of the Citadel needed was reassurance that C-Sec would maintain law and order, lest today's bar fight become tomorrow's street riot. (12)

Oh, and then there was the argument Tali was having with some guy from the turian ambassador's diplomatic staff. She was trying to get dextro-oriented antibiotics and medi-gel for her people because they just got out of a war with the geth that never should have started in the first place. Unfortunately, the turian was explaining that between the fight for Palaven and the Cerberus coup attempt, there literally weren't any supplies to spare.

So after all that, I think I could be forgiven for thinking that I'd stumbled into another argument—between two humans—outside C-Sec. "I just don't understand why you're suddenly so conflicted," one of them said.

The other one pinched his forehead. "Look, the asshole's in custody now. Killing him won't bring anyone back."

Say what now?

"It's about justice—the man is a traitor and a murderer. You saw what he did to your wife! To my husband!"

"And didn't bat an eyelash. I know."

"What's going on, here?" I asked sternly.

Both of them flinched. Apparently they were so caught up in their little discussion that they didn't hear me. "Um…" the woman said.

"Well…" the man stalled.

"I'm in position at C-Sec. Start the distraction and I'll move in and make the kill."

The woman flushed, her hand reaching unconsciously down to a comm unit. She'd apparently left the volume on a little too high. "Don't answer that!" I snapped.

"My name is Commander Shepard," I said, "of the Systems Alliance and the Office of Special Tactics and Recon. The two of you have some explaining to do."

Boy, did they ever. After giving them a stern warning and sending them off, I hurried to C-Sec.

Thankfully, I made it just in the nick of time. It didn't take long to find the man I was looking for. Human, bald spot pushing back an otherwise lush head of black hair. Dressed in civvie garb, but his posture screamed of military training. His eyes flickered in recognition when he saw me. "Captain Aaron Sommers, I presume?"

"Retired," he corrected me. (13) "Guess I know what happened to my backup. I know when I'm made, Commander Shepard."

He stood to attention. "Just let me explain," he pleaded after we exchanged salutes.

"Go on."

"There's a prisoner here. C-Sec officer who helped Cerberus. He was caught when you stopped the coup. Now he's offering them intel on Cerberus to get a better deal. But he doesn't deserve a better deal. Or any deal. He killed people during the coup. Good people. And he's former Alliance. Like us. Way I figure it, he's our problem to fix."

"And by 'fix,' you mean 'execute'."

"Look, Commander, some of those people were his friends. Had his back time and time again. But he executed them in cold blood for Cerberus. Cleared the path for their troops. Now he's saying he's a vet and he was suckered in by talk of helping humanity. I don't know what intel he has and I don't really care, either. He dishonoured the uniform."

"Sounds like he did," I nodded.

"Then you agree: we have to take him out."

"No."

"What?"

"If you gun that man down, you're dishonouring the uniform just as much as he did."

"Like hell I am!" he spat.

"I don't like plea bargains any more than you do, but the intel we get might save lives."

"Says who?"

"Our superiors. The people we swore to serve and trust. And even if that intel doesn't pan out, that man should be sent to trial and made to answer for his crimes. If you kill him, it might feel good. At first. But what you're really doing is helping a traitor escape justice. You want him to pay for what he did? Then let the system do its work. The system built on the principles and values you and I swore to protect… Captain Sommers."

"Yeah, but…" he trailed off. I stood there and watched him think about it. "You raise a good point, Commander," he finally said. "A lot of them. Been a while since anyone said what you said and made me believe it. Sorry, Commander. I'll shut this op down before it gets any further. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

I watched him go with mixed feelings. Talking about the coup reminded me of Udina. He'd cleared the path for Cerberus too. Used his influence and credits to move Cerberus soldiers and equipment into place for the coup. And when I'd stopped him, I had done so with a bullet to the head. That wasn't the same as what Captain Sommers had tried to do. There was a difference between firing in self-defence—and the defence of my squadmates and the Citadel Council—and executing in cold blood.

"Commander Shepard?"

Turning around, I saw a female human C-Sec officer approach me. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Officer Jordan Noles, E-Crimes. "It's an honour to meet you, Commander. Do you have a minute?" she asked after we shook hands.

"Sure."

"I've got a saboteur hacking key systems. Power, communications… it's bad. Take a look at this." She turned on her omni-tool and tilted the display towards me.

"Looks like a collection of access codes," I guessed.

"They are," she confirmed. "Three of them, to be exact. All batarian diplomatic access codes… from back when they had an embassy on the Citadel."

"But that was…" I closed my eyes and did the math. "Fifteen years ago. You mean those codes are still valid?"

Noles made a face. "You can thank bureaucratic inertia for that. I've done my best, but I just don't have the authority to shut down diplomatic codes—even if they're old codes assigned to a race that no longer has an embassy on the Citadel or recognizes Citadel laws and conventions."

And maybe some politician held some faint hope of bringing them back into the fold. Stranger things had happened.

"But you do," Noles continued. "I won't bore you with all the legal details, but a joint investigation between C-Sec and the Spectres would cut through a lot of that red tape. If you can use your access to find where they've been used, I can shut down those codes once and for all."

"If I find anything, I'll let you know."

So off I went. Wandering around the Citadel, just like before. Only this time, I had a purpose.

It won't surprise anyone to hear it took a while. The Citadel's a big place. And since I didn't know where those codes were being used, I had to basically scan through every single computer within range of my omni-tool.

Then I had the bright idea of uploading those codes to the Normandy and having EDI do the scanning for me. She had a lot more processing power than I did, after all. I still had to actually check out any computer she identified, mind you. But it was a hell of a lot better than random exploration.

The first one was embedded in one of the computers at Huerta Memorial. After running a second scan for confirmation, I activated my comm. "Noles, this is Shepard. I found one of the code locations."

"Okay, I'll shut it down. Just need to authorize your Spectre status… son of a bitch."

"Noles?"

"Someone used this to cut off power to a dozen life-support machines in the hospital. Five of them coded before the doctors found out and switched to backups. Okay, that access code is officially disabled. Can you find the others?"

"On it. Stand by."

Following EDI's analysis, I headed over to where the Normandy was docked. Sure enough, she was right on the money. "Noles, I'm in Docking Bay D24. I've found another spot where the batarian codes were used."

"Holy crap," she whispered. "They were used to access the remote navigation codes last week. That explains the crash at the docks. We thought it was an accident. Shepard, there were 117 Alliance soldiers on that ship. All human… just like the patients at the hospital."

"So we've got batarian codes and someone with a grudge against humans," I concluded.

"Looks like. Okay, this code is offline now as well. Two down, one to go, Commander."

The last code was at a console near the end of Bay E28. "Noles, I've found the computer where the last access code was used."

"What's that, Commander? I'm losing your signal."

"I'm at Bay E28. I found the computer where the last access code was used. Noles? Can you hear me?"

The back of my neck began tingling… just before a gun was jammed between my shoulder blades. "Commander Shepard," a gravelly voice said aloud.

"I know I am but who are you?" I responded.

"Captain Ka'hairal Balak, Batarian External Forces."

"Balak," I repeated. Where did that name sound familiar… oh, right! News article I'd read after the Battle for the Citadel, when I was off hunting down rogue geth. "You wouldn't be the guy who tried to crash that asteroid into Terra Nova three years ago, would you?"

"Only after your people claimed star systems that rightfully belonged to the Hegemony!" he snarled. "Not to mention all the soldiers you killed on Elysium."

"Funny," I said dryly. "I thought the Citadel Council ceded those systems to us because we actually explored and colonized them. And I thought the official story was that only slavers and pirates attacked Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. Are you saying that it really was state-sponsored?"

The jab in my spine told me maybe now wasn't the best time to argue over politics. "You know what? We can talk about that later."

"There won't be a later," he hissed. "I've been waiting for this. Everything that has happened to my people is your fault."

As Balak was behind me, he didn't see the way I winced. There were a lot of souls in the Bahak system who would agree with him. But his accusation wasn't entirely accurate. "I didn't destroy your people, Balak," I said. "I didn't attack Khar'shan. The Reapers did."

"We were a proud race," he seethed. "A beautiful race! But all that changed when the Reapers invaded! Have you seen what they've done to us? They've conquered my homeworld! They drove us into exile. We've been reduced to wandering the stars, waging hit-and-run attacks on Reaper forces, hoping to survive just one more day."

"How do you know where they are?" I asked, already guessing the answer.

Balak confirmed it: "I've tapped Council transmissions. It's all I can do while I'm trapped here on the Citadel. I am the highest-ranking military officer left in the Hegemony, and that's all I can do. I can't save my people!"

His voice grew more anguished and tortured as he ranted. Then there was an ominous pause. When he resumed talking, there was a bleak chill in his voice. "But I can kill you."

Okay. Batarian with an axe to grind against humans had a gun pointed at my back. Think fast, Shepard. "And what would that accomplish?" I asked.

"Vengeance. The Bahak system…"

"Had 315 thousand batarians," I interrupted. "None of whom would've survived if the Reapers invaded. You know that."

"Yes. I do know that. Just like I know that you were there."

"I was there all right," I said, craning my neck until I could look Balak in the eye. "Only days before the Alpha Relay was destroyed. If I had known beforehand, maybe I could have stopped it. Stop the Reapers and save all those batarians. But I didn't. I did the best I could, and managed to save ten thousand lives in the process, but that wasn't good enough. Why do you think I turned myself in, Balak? Because even though I saved ten thousand lives, that still leaves 305 thousand. 305 thousand batarians who died on my watch. That's why."

"You expect me to believe that you give a shit about batarian lives?"

"He does, sir."

I had to really stretch my neck before I could see that second voice. My eyes widened. "Cathka?"

"Nice to finally know your name."

"You know this human, Cathka?" Balak barked. "Do you know what he's done?"

"Yeah," Cathka nodded. "I know he got the jump on me while I was repairing a gunship on Omega. Could've killed me, but he didn't. He spared my life. Then I bumped into him again on Illium. I was trapped in a contract from hell along with my buddies. Thanks to Shepard, we got offworld—before Eclipse found out we were trying to poach on their turf—with a bunch of Cerberus punks. Alliance paid us a lotta creds to take them off our hands. Shepard didn't have to go to all that trouble to help us, but he did."

"And I'd like to help you too," I added.

"Help me?" Balak challenged. "Or screw me over?"

"I'm too busy fighting the Reapers to worry about screwing you over," I replied. "It's hardly been a barrel of laughs, let me tell you. A lot of blood and tears have been shed. But it's been worth it.

"I've united the krogan and the turians. Wasn't easy to get them to put aside their differences. But they did, and now the genophage is cured. If we win this war, the krogan can reproduce again. They have a future.

"I've united the quarians and geth as well. Wasn't easy to convince them to put aside their differences, either. But they did. And now the quarians have reclaimed Rannoch. They aren't refugees and exiles anymore. If we win this war, they'll have a homeworld from which to build their future.

"And that's not all. I've got support from the asari, the salarians, the elcor. Hell, even the volus have thrown in their support." I decided not to mention the rachni, because Balak might think they were still extinct. "We're the best hope for this galaxy because we're all in it together. You could be, too. If humans and batarians could put aside their differences, if we could fight together against the Reapers, we've got a better chance of winning this war."

Taking a chance, I turned around and faced Balak. "I know why you sabotaged those beds at Huerta Memorial. Why you caused the crash of that ship carrying all those Alliance soldiers. Why you want to kill me. You think it's over for your people and you want to do something. Anything. But you're wrong. It's not over. Not yet. You want to do more than provide intel for a few hit-and-run attacks? You want vengeance for Khar'shan and the Hegemony? Then join us."

We stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

Then, with a muffled roar, Balak jammed his gun into his holster and took a step away. I slowly breathed out, careful not to let any relief show on my face.

Seeing that Balak was still quivering with rage, Cathka took over. "Let's say we're willing to cooperate, Shepard. How are we gonna coordinate our forces? There's no way an officer of the Hegemony will take orders from the Alliance."

He had a point. For that matter, the batarians probably wouldn't take orders from any race serving on the Citadel Council, which ruled out the asari, salarians and turians. The quarians were too busy resettling on Rannoch. And dealing with the geth would probably confuse the hell out of the batarians.

That was when it hit me. "How about the krogan?"

"Which ones?" Balak snorted. "There are a lot of them, Shepard. All divided in their own clans."

"Not anymore," I smiled. "Urdnot Wrex has brought them all together under his banner. And he's managed to establish working relationships with the Alliance and the Hierarchy. He could act as an intermediary between your people and ours."

"Fine," he snarled. "I'll reach out to him. If he vouches for you, and if he's willing to deal with the Alliance… then we have a deal. Our ships and our soldiers will fight with you."

With that, Balak stomped off. Cathka stayed behind. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone running towards me. It was Officer Noles. "Shepard," she said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied. "You won't have any more trouble with those codes."

She pointed at Balak's retreating back. "Is that Ka'hairal Balak, the terrorist who attacked Terra Nova?"

"Sure is."

I don't think she was expecting such a glib remark. "Do you want me to arrest him?"

"Yesterday, I would've said yes. Today… I guess we're all making a sacrifice or two. Let him go. Spectre authority."

"Understood, Commander," Noles said. "And thanks."

She headed off to wrap things up, write a report and all the other glamorous things that a cop would do at the end of an investigation. That left me and Cathka. Naturally I wound up being the one to break the silence. "So how many credits did you get from turning those Cerberus agents over? 'Cause I was under the impression the bounty wasn't that much."

"It wasn't," he shrugged. "But we may have swiped some cargo on the way out and flipped it for twice the market value."

"'May have'?"

"You really think I'm going to tell a Spectre I committed a crime?"

"Stranger things have happened," I replied. "Thanks for backing me up, by the way."

"Way I see it, I still owed you for Omega. Now we're even."

"I guess so," I admitted. "You still with the Blue Suns?"

Cathka shook his head. "Not after Khar'shan fell to the Reapers. Had to help my people, right? Couldn't do that with the Blue Suns. Wasn't a popular move. Lotta buddies didn't see it that way, but… I had to do what felt right. You know?"

"Yeah," I nodded soberly. "I could see that."

"I know what you just said, Shepard, but I gotta ask: did you really do everything you could to save the people in the Bahak system?"

"Everything I could think of," I replied. "Ever since then, I've been playing those days over and over, wondering if there was anything else I could've done." I spread my hands helplessly. "But there wasn't. If it wasn't for my crew and the plans they made on their own, the d… the death toll would have been far greater."

"Yeah, I know," Cathka nodded. "Couple buddies of mine made it out because of what you and your crew did. They say thanks, by the way."

He had no idea how badly I needed to hear that. "Tell them you're welcome," I managed at last.

"Will do."

This had been an odd day, I thought. I'd encountered a fair number of people who'd done terrible things for various reasons. Each time, I'd been faced with the quandary of what to do with them. Whether to keep them alive for intel and so they could face justice as defined by the galactic society… or whether they should face a more immediate and vigilante form of justice.

"Can't believe how hard the doctors are working to keep that terrorist bastard alive."

"He's in intensive care?"

"He got blasted by Cerberus. They think he's just another victim."

Looking over, I saw a scarred turian and a human woman chatting away. "If he's a terrorist, he ought to be locked up," the latter insisted.

"He should be shot!" the turian growled. "Ghorek's wanted for six bombings. Six! Killed both humans and batarians."

The woman's eyes widened. "He bombed his own people? Why?"

"He was part of a terror cell. Picked crowded places. Voya. Omega. Doesn't matter to these asshole-fanatics who gets blown up. As long as people suffer. If I was his doctor, I'd pull the plug."

"You don't want this guy dead. He could lead us to other suspects."

"Who's going to have time to find them in the middle of a war?"

"Ghorek should be punished in a courtroom where people can see it happen," the woman said firmly. "I want a society to get back to when this damn war's over."

"Whatever."

"So did you tell the refugee camp who Ghorek really is?"

"I tried."

"What happened?"

The turian looked a little sheepish. "I, uh… didn't have any proof. Kind of got hot under the collar."

"You punched someone, didn't you?"

"Um… yeah."

Well, that was enough for me to work with. I headed back to the Spectre Office in the Citadel Embassies and did some digging through hospital records. (14) There were a lot of batarians being looked after, most of whom were in one refugee camp or the other. Several of them were in the kind of critical condition that the turian had described. Three of them were named 'Ghorek.' The one in the temporary refugee camp at Docking Bay E24 had reported an incident where a 'belligerent turian' had accosted hospital staff and had been tossed out.

I pulled up Ghorek's picture. Then I did a search for any batarian terrorists named Ghorek who was suspected of bombing incidents at Voya and Omega and pulled up the pictures from those watch-lists. Sure enough, it was a match.

After typing up a quick report of what I'd overheard and saving all my findings, I headed back to Docking Bay E24. Took some searching, but I eventually found Ghorek. He was definitely in bad shape, judging by all the IVs and medical equipment. There was a turian nurse looking after him. "Pressure's okay," I heard him mutter. "No infection so far… how're you doing today?"

Ghorek was curled in a fetal position with his back to the nurse. He didn't say a word. Shrugging, the nurse hung up a bag of blood. "You're lucky we've got a lot of batarian blood donors... wait a second."

The sudden alarms clued me in before the nurse cursed. "Damn it. Breathing's getting erratic." He quickly fiddled with some of the equipment and the alarms cut out.

"Excuse me," I coughed. "Commander Shepard, Office of Special Tactics and Recon. Can I talk to this man?"

"Only if it's important, Commander. He's hurt bad."

"I only need a few minutes."

The nurse sighed, then reached over and adjusted one of the IVs. "There. I took down the sedative a bit, but hurry. Right now, I peg his survival at fifty-fifty."

I waited until the nurse turned to another patient before approaching the bed. "Are you Ghorek?"

Apparently he was more willing to talk to me than the nurse. "Go away. Nothing to say…"

"Don't want to talk about what a terrorist like you's doing in a place like this?" I asked.

Ghorek rolled over and looked at me. His eyes narrowed. "You!"

"Me," I replied. "Do I know you?"

"Every…" Ghorek broke off and coughed. "Every batarian with someone on Aratoht remembers your face!"

Somehow, I didn't think Cathka was coming to my rescue this time. "I tried to save as many people as I could before the Alpha Relay was destroyed," I replied. "I wish I could have done more."

"You did plenty," he snarled. "You butchered an entire colony! Only regret… don't have the strength to… why? Why did you do it?"

"I was trying to stop the Reapers from pouring through."

"Bah!" Ghorek scoffed. "Easy for you to claim now that they're here. Don't pretend you have any remorse."

"It's the truth," I said. "You think I don't feel guilty? A colony was destroyed and 305 thousand batarians died because I couldn't find a better solution. I've thought about the people who died, about how I couldn't warn them in time. In the end, I didn't have a choice. But I'm sorry, if that means anything."

Ghorek coughed. "If you're so remorseful… if you have any real guilt, show some mercy." He took a wheezing breath before continuing. "Unplug this machine."

Say what now?

"Let me join my family."

Huh.

Well. This was unexpected.

(1): The treatment plans saved the lives of several marines in the Alliance First Fleet who'd suffered chemical burns while covering the evacuation of various colonies.

(2): Shepard would later find out that the treatment plan he provided to the first pair of doctors allowed for the counteragent to finally take effect. And the formula for the turian poison allowed the third doctor to successfully treat General Korillius of the Sixth Fleet. By the time Shepard left the Citadel, he was already awake and responsive.

(3): While the asari who received the Reaper code fragment was certainly willing to pass the information along, Asari High Command were uncertain of its usefulness and chose to use the Asari Second Fleet as a 'guinea pig' first before releasing the fragment to its allies.

(4): Zorya was the location of an Eldfell-Ashland refinery that had been seized by the Blue Suns. Officially, Zaeed had demanded Shepard help him with that mission in exchange for his aid against the Collectors. Unofficially, Zaeed had found out that Vido Santiago—the co-founder of the Blue Suns who had driven him out and tried to kill him after they disagreed on how to run the merc outfit—was at the refinery. Zaeed wanted to kill Santiago, but Shepard forced him to rescue the refinery workers instead—a move that allowed Santiago to escape.

(5): 'Jessie' was Zaeed's affectionate name for his favourite assault rifle, which had stopped working prior to his contract with Shepard. During the initial months of the Reaper War, he made a variety of purchases including parts for a discontinued variant on the M-7 Avenger assault rifle, presumably to restore Jessie to working order.

(6): Specifically, one of the Hierarchy officials on the cruiser Cerberus attacked, who was in a position to put the clues together as Primarch Victus did and come to the same conclusions.

(7): Ambassador Korlack would subsequently face a series of fines and tolls that severely depleted his financial holdings. Furthermore, he was informed that he would be resigning his post as ambassador once the war was over for 'health reasons.'

(8): The wisdom and insights gleaned from these texts did indeed prove useful in training several more squads of huntresses, most of whom were assigned to the Asari Sixth Fleet.

(9): The insights gleaned from the statue's inscriptions proved particularly useful to the Alliance Engineering Corps.

(10): Shepard would later find out that once the colony in question, Senoquol, was out of danger, they were able to send all the materials and weapons they could spare to the Salarian Third Fleet.

(11): A human science fiction novel involving the cloning of dinosaurs from genetic material recovered from mosquitoes preserved in amber. The similarities are uncanny, to say the least.

(12): Shepard's contributions to these conversations would ultimately have a net positive impact on C-Sec's ability to maintain law and order on the Citadel.

(13): While Shepard knew that, he also knew that addressing Sommers by his former rank would be received as a gesture of respect.

(14): Normally a court order would be required to acquire patient information and test results for any investigation. Shepard's Spectre status allowed him to bypass those legal conditions.