A man drove the skycar, while a mean-looking salarian sat in the passenger seat, turned round with his weapon drawn. Marik toppled to the floor of the car, which was more spacious than most skycars – more like a van.

"Please, whatever you want, can it wait?" Laurel pleaded with them, pressing her hands down onto Marik's chest. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. She moved her ear down to his mouth, looking down his chest; still breathing. Thank god. She glanced round the vehicle inside for a first aid kit. She could hear sucking noises from his chest.

"Medkit?" she snapped. Mire and the salarian exchanged glances. Mire rootled around for a kit, and she snatched it off him quickly before finding medi-gel inside. She spread a square-shaped layer over the sucking chest wound, leaving a small gap for the air to escape through. His breathing was shallow and his pulse was weak. Don't die on me. Please don't die.

"Put some of that stuff on your leg," said Mire suddenly. She was all at once made aware of her injuries again; her broken ribs, arm and gunshot wound in her calf. Where did it hurt more? Probably her ribs, if she were to be honest. The sharp pains each time she breathed were by far the worst agony. She smeared the medi-gel onto the wound, which dried over quickly.

"Any other injuries?" asked Mire.

"Arm and ribs…broken," she gritted her teeth as the skycar turned a sharp corner. Mire and the salarian kept their eyes on them.

"What do you want?" she hissed, trying to keep her eyes on Marik as well as the batarian. Mire blinked his four, large dark eyes as he stared at her. She always found the gaze of batarians (as well as turians) somewhat unnerving. She'd be hard-pressed to find either who looked docile. Mire stayed silent, however.

"I'm not going anywhere or doing anything for you until we get him to a hospital," she said to Mire, making sure her expression said it also.

"Not here to ask anything of you ," replied Mire. Was that something she should be comforted by or was it a threat? It was hard to tell.

"Then why did you help us?" she asked in return. Mire and the salarian exchanged glances again. It was silent at the skycar sped them through the wards.

"A common enemy," said Mire. Laurel frowned, confused.

"Whatever it is, it can wait," she eventually replied. "He needs help, right now." Mire's eyes flicked to Marik on the floor of the car, his breath still sucking in and out through the hole in his chest.

"I know a doctor deep in the wards," said Mire. "He runs a private clinic. We should be safe there – for now." It was another ten minutes before they reached their destination – a small clinic that said it was currently closed – lit up by the various shops and markets opposite and down the street. There were a lot of homeless people, human and non-human, wandering or huddled up in shop doorways. The human driver sped off as Mire and the salarian carried Marik to the doorway of this clinic. Laurel carried their weapons, looking up and down the street for any signs of the krogan; it would be easy to spot the bounty hunter, as krogan were not a common sight on the citadel. The doctor was also salarian, who waited in a (thankfully) clean lab, arms stiff behind his back.

"Gunshot wound to the chest," filled in Laurel, who felt like she had to act as paramedic. "He has a-"

"Sucking chest wound, yes I can see that," snapped the doctor, who got to work on Marik right away. She turned away, trying to catch a breath, trying to acknowledge what had happened, whom she was with. She was just trying to get her life back on track, she was going to leave here forever and go home – but the past had caught up with them. Was there ever a break in all this? She took a seat outside in the reception. Laurel hadn't realised but she was covered in Marik's blood, smeared across the top of her cargo pants and all over her t-shirt. Was he going to live? He'd lost a lot of blood. It had dripped from the entrance to the surgery room. She wasn't sure how long she'd been waiting there, for she'd fallen asleep in her chair, exhausted and aching. The pain of her own injuries began to register again as she sat there, desperate for a hot drink and shower. Unfortunately, she had to wait a little longer. A large hand grabbed her uninjured upper arm and hauled her upwards. It was the salarian who accompanied Mire, skinny and towering with huge biceps. Certainly goes against type, she thought dryly, before he hauled her back into another surgery room, lights dimmed.

"Get on the bed," said Mire, who was smoking a cigarette.

"Are you suddenly a doctor?" she snapped. He gave her a poisoned look. She didn't have the strength to argue with them, however, and clambered onto it, injuries screaming.

"Got a few questions for you," said Mire, unfolding his arms and stepping forward. He blew out his smoke, taking his time as he walked up to her without dragging his eyes away. Her heart began to thump harder, and she drew short breaths in through her nose, nostrils flaring. She began to nervously eye his cigarette as he took another drag, eyes still on her unwaveringly.

"I want you to explain what happened on that night…all those, long, long years ago," he said to her slowly. "Without the bullshit." She knew which night he meant; the job they were supposed to do for Aria, which had gone catastrophically wrong. She tilted her head up, trying to appear braver than she felt.

"Are you going to believe anything I say?" she asked. Mire started to laugh at her.

"That depends, human . Start talking."

"It was going fine until I realised who it was that stole from Aria," she said.

"And who is he, exactly?" asked Mire, still looking calm and laid back.

"His real name is Stefan Jensen, ex-Alliance. That's how I knew him," she said.

"And how was the whole mission jeopardised by this?"

"Cos I knew him," she said. "I'd…antagonised him. We have history…"

"What history?" asked Mire.

"I…History in the Alliance. First Contact War, my being in prison. He knew I was a threat. Marik got involved. We had to get away, knowing it looked like we'd betrayed Aria and abandoned the mission…"

"You'll have to explain…what history this is exactly, human," said Mire, stepping close enough that he was beside her – too close.

"What does our history have to do with any of this ?" she snapped, waving her arm around. "I didn't escape from a krogan bounty hunter just to be threatened by you, of all people." Mire then did something excruciating – he stuck his finger into the gunshot wound in her leg. She leaned forward suddenly, gasping in pain.

"You're not the only person who has a bounty hunter on their back," said Mire calmly, as if he was anywhere but a grungy old surgery in a seedy ward.

"Jensen is part of Cerberus…." She gasped as he twisted his finger cruelly.

"I know that part," snapped Mire.

"He betrayed me and….my crew during the F-First Contact War. He framed me, urgh… for his c-crime and I spent eight years in prison. Someone recently g-gave me the blackbox…the flight recorder from our crashed ship…" Tears of agony slipped out from her eyes. "I'm guessing the bounty hunter is…Jensen's…."

"So you didn't betray us?" Mire said.

"No…. Oh God, please stop," she cried.

"More details," he snapped, digging deeper. She screamed in pain and kicked out reflexively with her other leg. Mire was caught in the face by the toe of her sneakers and he fell to the ground briefly, cursing. The salarian was quick behind her though. Laurel hauled herself off the bed and tried to fight him off before she heard the door open beside them. She heard the unmistakable click of a gun. Her heart dropped, hoping it was Marik – unfortunately it was the salarian doctor, holding his gun up at the other salarian.

"This is a clinic, not a torture chamber," he snapped. "I said you could bring the injured in after hours, not brutalise them here."

"Just do your job," grumbled Mire.

"I am," said the salarian. "Get out before I shoot you out." Mire glanced over to Laurel as he turned to leave after his salarian bodyguard. He looked like he was sucking on a lemon; face full of acid.

"I'll come back in a couple of days. If you want to live, avoid leaving this clinic."

"You think I'll do as you say, you bastard?" she spat at him.

"The krogan," was all Mire replied with before he left. She was left with the doctor examining her with that analytical look that many salarians carried.

"Interesting friends you have," he replied. "Come on, I've stabilised your turian friend. Let me dig out that slug in your leg." He waved her over and they walked back into the surgery room. A machine bleeped, monitoring Marik's heart rate. He was still unconscious, hooked up to a drip. It was so unusual to see a turian so frail, so vulnerable, with his eyes closed and his mandibles slack. The doctor had removed his tunic completely and she saw the delicate skin of his torso rise up and down steadily.

"Will he ok?" she whispered, clambering up on another bed. The doctor picked up a pair of scissors and cut through her trousers easily, opening them up wider.

"Yes. He's lost a lot of blood but thankfully he's a regular blood type - for a turian. You helped save his life – he was very lucky to not have his lung collapse either. The shot was far too close to his heart for my liking, however. It will take him a while to recover." She bit her lip in worry, her own heart aching. Too close to his heart? The thought of it killing him gave her a tremendously uncomfortable feeling of sorrow and despair.

"Don't worry. He's still alive," replied the doctor, having picked up on her distress. He injected her with local anaesthetic before attempting to dig out the bullet in her leg, which was much larger than usual. She could feel it in her leg, minus the pain, and it still made her wince. Upon success, the doctor twisted his tongs round to study the bullet.

"Hm. Oddly large. What weapon was used?"

"A pistol…But it was a krogan wielding it." The doctor frowned as he plopped the heavy metal into a tray. He began to sow up her leg after cleaning it and taking an x-ray with a portable device.

"No shattered or fractured bone…amazing. Any other injuries?" She showed him her broken arm and told him about the broken ribs. For this she had to go under general, so she slept for several hours, waiting for the local to wear off before he put her under totally. He told her to count to ten, and she never made it past two.

By the time she woke up, she noticed the doctor had taken off her sneakers and drawn a blanket over her body. This small act of kindness made her lips quiver with a smile. Every part of her ached despite the painkillers she had in her body. She knew the internal medicine they used these days to heal bones quicker had some unpleasant side effects. Her mind went over the events of the day. Too many things had happened too quickly. She could now understand Mire's behaviour (mostly); he probably thought both her and Marik were traitors, that they'd ditched Aria's mission and left Mire and the rest for dead. She swivelled her eyes round to see the salarian typing up details onto his computer. She attempted to sit upwards and he must've had the hearing of a bat because he turned round to face her.

"I would rest... The medicine will have kicked in by now but you need to give it a minimum of twenty four hours," he said to her.

"I can't wait here for twenty four hours," she said, flopping back down on the bed.

"You'll have to Ms, er…what is your name?"

"Laurel Westfahl and…"

"Absedeus Marik, yes I know the name of him," replied the salarian. "I am Dr. Varalan."

"I'll be sure to give your clinic a five star rating on the extranet," she replied. Dr. Varalan nearly smiled as he turned back to his work.

"How do you know Marik?" she asked.

"I don't," the doctor replied, not turning round from his work. "Your turian is well known, although his heyday has definitely been over for some time now."

"He's not my turian," she replied. Yes he is, said a tiny, annoying voice.

"Oh yes…beg your pardon...I meant friend," replied the doctor but she could tell he knew . Nothing got past a salarian. She looked over to Marik, who looked exactly the same as he did when she last saw him. Her eyes closed and she went back to sleep.

By the second day, Dr. Varalan definitely knew more than he was letting on. He allowed her to shower in his apartment and he shared his food with her while Marik recovered in the surgery room. His food was…interesting to say the least. Her t-shirt and trousers were now stained and cut by surgery so he gave her a tunic and trousers that were miles too big on her and smelt like something akin to rosemary. He said she shouldn't attempt to leave while Marik was still recovering, and by the third day she was bored out of her brains. She'd tried to read some of his medical books and dropped off each time she read a chapter. The doctor didn't have much in the way of entertainment in his apartment, a clear sign he was a man obsessed with his work. However, in the evening, Marik had finally woken up. She wasn't sure if he 'looked' better or not. He still appeared fragile in that bed. His eyes lit up when he turned his head slowly to see her curled up in an armchair next to him.

"Laurel…" he croaked, mandibles moving outwards in joy. She'd only been lightly dozing and sat up quickly, grabbing his hand.

"Hey sleepyhead…" she smiled, overjoyed to see him finally awake.

"Where are we?" he asked, eyes squinting at the bright light. She got up and dimmed it slightly.

"A private clinic in the wards," she told him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've just been shot in the chest," he smirked at her, untangling his hand from hers and stroking a single talon down her cheek. She couldn't help but laugh.

"You were very lucky…. that bullet almost pierced your heart," she said, face serious again. His pupils were large and round as he took her in.

"You got there first…" he replied, dropping his talon back down to the bed. Her cheeks blossomed with sudden colour. She wanted to kiss him very badly, but shyness and joy were so mixed up together that neither could win. She glanced away, while he looked her over.

"Should I be worried?" he asked. She turned back to him, puzzled. "You're wearing a salarian's clothes…"

"Gosh, for someone who's just gone through a major trauma you are very chirpy and jokey," she said, cupping his chin, stroking his lower mouth plate with her thumb.

"Maybe because I've just woken up next to you…"

"And flirty!" she said, pulling in towards his mouth. Oh fuck it all. She kissed him passionately, cupping his face with her hands. He was still unused to kissing, but he responded in kind, despite his weakness. He let her nip and suck and caress his mouth and mandibles, eyes fluttering, his voice soon vibrating with a purr, a sign he was content.

"He even let me shower in his apartment…" she said, whispering into his ear.

"I hope you were thinking of me," he rasped, his guttural voice sending a tremendous shiver down her spine as he breathed hot into her neck.

" Ahem ," began a small voice behind them. Laurel was so shocked and embarrassed she nearly crashed into the medical equipment behind. She heard Marik sniggering as she straightened back up, turning to see the salarian doctor standing at the doorway.

"Jesus Christ!" she shouted. "Perhaps a knock first?"

"This is my clinic, Laurel Westfahl," said Dr. Varalan, sounding annoyed but she swore she glimpsed a twinkle in his eye. He walked up to Marik and checked the machine, giving them silence for now. When he'd finished, he turned to face them.

"Doing much better than expected," he announced. "But I must insist – you need rest in order to fully recover."

"We can't stay here, doctor," said Marik, attempting to shift himself upwards a little. "Do you sell supplies? I'm a doctor myself…" Dr. Varalan's thin mouth nearly vanished as he drew a look of pursed exasperation.

"We'll only be found eventually," cut in Laurel. "We wouldn't want you to come to harm-"

"You brought me to harm as soon as you stepped across my threshold," snapped Dr. Varalan. Laurel, feeling guilty, exchanged a brief glance with Marik, who looked impatient.

"I'm sorry, doctor," she said, desperately wanting to erase the etched frown on his face – or what she interpreted as a frown – his normally large eyes drawing into a squint. After years spent among aliens she knew certain telltale signs of emotions expressed on faces.

"It's alright," sighed Dr. Varalan. "It wasn't…your fault. But the krogan will find this place in time. I'm surprised he hasn't already but then again krogan aren't always the brightest scalpels in the toolbox…" On that note, a thudding was heard against the front door, which was locked. Marik managed to sit up totally this time, while Laurel seemed to freeze, staring at the doctor. The salarian shook his head at them, and his omni tool pinged.

"What do you want at this hour?" snapped the doctor, acting slightly. A small screen appeared above his arm from the omni tool. It was the face of Mire, and Laurel let out a partial breath of relief.

"Come to check on our pals, see how they're doing," replied Mire.

"Sarcasm doesn't work with me. You're a bloodthirsty merc and have no place in my clinic. Far cry from what you told me you were before. Now step away from the door," said Varalan.

"We just need to talk to Westfahl and Marik," pleaded Mire, although his begging was far from sincere sounding. Laurel walked up to stand beside Varalan, looking at the screen.

"What do you want, Mire?" she snapped. "Stop with the useless posturing and spit it out already."

"Not a good idea blurting it out on a busy street," the batarian shot back. Laurel and Varalan exchanged cautious glances, his gaze seeming to say: this is your funeral. She gave him the briefest and smallest of nods.

"Leave your weapons outside," announced Varalan. Surprisingly, Mire and his salarian bodyguard complied with this, and were shepherded into the building by Varalan who stood behind them. Mire and the salarian walked into the surgery room, having seen Laurel from the doorway, but hadn't anticipated Marik round the corner. With one swift movement, Marik slammed Mire's head against the wall. There was a sickening crack as the batarian cried out in sudden anguish, collapsing to the floor. The salarian was met with a pistol before he could react.

"Nice to see you," Marik snarled, ignoring Mire's cries. He motioned the salarian over to the corner, kicking Mire in the abdomen to move him.

"You kglashraat…you fuuuucker….you veyn-fnarr-" Some of Mire's batarian insults hadn't translated as he cried on the ground, clutching his face which was now bleeding profusely. Laurel couldn't help but wince and frown as she saw red blood dribble down from Mire's face as he rocked himself back and forward. Marik still had his pistol trained on the brawny salarian, who looked dark with anger.

"One false move and you'll be dead," Marik hissed, pressing the pistol barrel into the salarian's bare head. "Now…talk."

"He doesn't know anything, he's just my partner," gargled Mire on the floor, still gasping from pain. He must've broken something in his face for she'd never seen anyone so hysterical from what looked like a simple bang. A far cry from the menacing man who'd threatened her just a couple of days ago.

"Marik…please," she blurted out, unable to take more violence. You've lived on Omega. Since when did you go all soft? Marik shot her a glance.

"I'm finding it difficult to feel sympathy for these…." He started but drifted off, catching himself. He bent down and picked up Mire with a surprising amount of strength. "What do you want with Laurel? Why is a bounty hunter after her and what's it got to do with you?"

"The bounty hunter is after me…too…" Mire cried. Laurel kept her eyes on the salarian however, whose eyes were swivelling round the room, looking for an opportunity.

"Hobbs and Banks…worked against me, us , eventually. They were originally in c-contact with Jensen, who promised them a fair share of money he'd stolen…"

"WHY would the bounty hunter be after you ?" snarled Marik, shaking Mire as he tightened his grip on the batarian's civvie clothing.

"Banks and Hobbs…ran back and lied to Aria…. Let Jensen have the money as well as taking their share…. They pinned the blame on you, her, and me…" said Mire, regaining his breath only slightly.

"Still doesn't make sense why the bounty hunter is after you and us…and why you wanted to find us," snapped Marik, drawing Mire close to his face so that the batarian could see Marik's sharp, white teeth in all their glory.

"I tailed you b-back to the Citadel, convinced you betrayed us. I-I managed to track down Westfahl and found out she had a sister…found Anise Carter belonged to Cerberus, working for Jensen. I thought she knew something…wanted to get revenge…but didn't anticipate her skills. I told her everything-"

"You'd trust the truth with a stranger?" asked Marik, letting Mire go but still training his weapon on him and the salarian. Laurel was surprised that Mire had been that crafty and resourceful in espionage.

"She made sure I'd tell the truth," Mire trembled, tapping his thigh. Laurel glanced down at his leg, but his clothes covered whatever he was pointing to. Did my sister…shoot him?

"Carter…she gave me her sister's blackbox from the war… She somehow 'acquired' it."

"Why the hell did she trust you with it?" snapped Laurel suddenly, more angry with Anise than Mire. Mire swivelled his dark eyes towards her.

"I-I don't know…" he confessed. "She was desperate, somehow found out that I'd known you. I knew you wouldn't trust me if I gave it to you in person so I hired someone else. I also knew I was being tailed and wanted to see how it played out… I needed to make sure you weren't a traitor."

"So I was just bait?" asked Laurel. Mire sheepishly shrugged. Could she blame him? Her anger dissolved for now. There was silence save for the machinery droning in the background.

"What's your goal, Mire?" asked Marik, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"Return to Omega without Aria killing me. Finishing our original job with a bullet in Jensen's brain." The salarian suddenly snorted, crossing his arms in exasperation.

"You expect Aria to reward you if you complete the job?" he scoffed.

"Shut up, Pazik," snapped Mire.

"And you want us to help you ?" asked Marik. The answer was evident in Mire's face. But before Marik could say anything more, Laurel piped up.

"On only one condition," she announced, making Marik turn to gaze at her slack-jawed in surprise. "That we keep Jensen alive. And that I deliver both him and the blackbox to the Alliance." They all looked at her in silence for a moment.

"Laurel…I don't want us to get involved in this again," sighed Marik.

"You don't have to," she retorted quickly. "I need to do this. Surely you realise how important this is to me." Marik's shoulders sunk, his pistol lowering a little. The salarian, Pazik, looked ready to strike at any moment. Fortunately, she saw Mire briefly shake his head in the corner of her eye.

"It's…it's too dangerous," said Marik, pleading in his eyes with his mandibles slack. It was difficult for her not to feel annoyance.

"Who are you to tell me what and what not to do?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"It should be obvious why I'm telling you," replied Marik quietly, his equipped arm now completely relaxed. "I'm in love with you. You might…-"

"Can we save the soap opera for another day?" yawned Pazik, helping Mire stand up. After all that fuss and violence both of them had seemed to remarkably relax. Laurel had looked away but she could tell that Marik's softened gaze was still on her.

"We have to get off the Citadel as soon as possible. Pazik has a small freighter. I'm not taking any more chances with that krogan," said Mire, wiping the blood on his face off with a large dirty handkerchief.

"No," said Laurel. "I want this blackbox delivered to the human embassy ASAP. Or the Alliance headquarters."

"No deal," snarled Pazik, stepping forward.

"I'm not making a 'deal' with you!" snapped Laurel, equally as aggressive. There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, everyone's heads buzzing with thoughts.

"Give it to me," announced a quiet voice behind them. She turned to look at the doctor, his hands solemnly behind his back.

"It's too dangerous, doctor," she said, shaking her head. "How will I know that the krogan won't find you and the blackbox?"

"I'm already involved," replied the doctor, nodding at Mire and Pazik. "I can copy the evidence – a backup if there are…complications."

"That might be corruptible," cut in Marik. "Easily changed, stolen… And it might not be seen as complete evidence – easily forged. Especially for a crime that's getting on for fourteen years old." Dr Varalan appeared unflustered by this. Laurel chewed on her lip, considering for a moment.

"Can you take it to the embassy for me? I can double your pay," she said, knowing that whatever she had saved wouldn't cover these expenses. She could feel Marik's disapproval, radiating off him. There was a loud, sudden bang at the door, making them all jump. Dr Varalan didn't hesitate; he urged them all to follow him, soon showing them a way out the back. Laurel and Marik were last, as the banging continued.

"The flight recorder, Westfahl," said the doctor, holding out his slim-fingered hand. She held it tightly, wrapped in the pillowcase. I don't know. I don't know. Oh god. I can't lose this.

"I can't," she burst out. "It means too much to me." She wasn't sure if she could completely trust the doctor, despite everything he'd done so far. She could feel Marik at her back, urging her forward.

"Open up!" came a distinct voice only belonging to a krogan from the front door.

"Trust me." The doctor's bottomless dark eyes implored her, urging her to have confidence. She gave it to him reluctantly, shooting a look at the door behind her. Marik gave the doctor the pistol he was holding, patting him on the back. They left out the back in the dead of the night.

He faced her in the poky little freighter, watching her chew her lip hard. Her knees bounced up and down and she rolled her shoulders back and forward, unable to sit still. The batarian and salarian were in the cockpit, thankfully preoccupied with piloting the ship. His Laurel hadn't said a word since they escaped the clinic and boarded the freighter at one of the many ports. In fact Mire and Pazik hadn't said much either, and Marik couldn't help but wonder if this was a perfectly laid out trap. His own leg couldn't stop bouncing in anxiety. It was going to be another four hours before they'd reach Omega. Marik leaned forward and caught Laurel's clasped hands in his own.

"Laurel…" he whispered.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this…I shouldn't have got your colleague to call you back in the wards…"

"You'd be dead if you didn't," he admonished her. She met his eyes, pulling a small smile.

"I'm so confused and….bewildered by all of this, Marik," she began. "Anise…getting the blackbox to me? And…the possibility of having my name cleared? It's too much to even comprehend. I wish it happened sooner. I don't know if what we're doing is a good idea. My skills are rusty – and we could end up dead."

"It isn't a good idea," he said honestly to her. "But I couldn't have let you go on your own. Aria is smart, hopefully she will come round to believing us. She'll think of a plan."

"We're relying on the generosity of a corrupt woman," Laurel told him, raising those eyebrows of hers. "Just how forgiving do you think she'll be?"

"True. But if we're to believe Mire then the money stolen from her hasn't yet been returned." She nodded at this, satisfied with his words. Another hour later, and they were slumped in their seats, her snuggled up next to him, breathing deeply. His talons threaded through her hair carefully, as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He had tried to push her from him, but she'd come back into his life, once again. It was something he had to accept – that she'd made a mark on his life in a way that no one had done before. He breathed in her scent, cuddling her close to him, enjoying the warmth of her body, her soft breaths tickling the skin on his neck. He had time to get things sorted for himself. He could try to rebuild a new life, perhaps with her. He felt he didn't deserve her – that she needed to be with her own kind. The differences between them were too great. She was young – she'd get over him. With another hour gone, Marik still sat there awake, while the human woman beside him slept. Despite living together briefly, she'd never slept in his bed, and he enjoyed listening and watching her as she slept. She had laughed in her sleep, very quietly, which amused him. Had telling her that he loved her still made her wonder on their relationship and where it was? I'm kidding myself. I can't ever hide my feelings.

Several hours later, Laurel Westfahl was face to face with Aria T'Loak on Omega once again. The place hadn't changed, the same sticky, oily heat that clung to her skin and the acid-like smell that burned her nostrils. She held Marik's hand in her own, tightly gripping him and he her, pulling her to his side. Despite everything, she felt safe with the turian by her side. Aria's bodyguards, a turian named Grizz and Bray the batarian appeared as soon as they all stepped foot onto the station.

"Aria wants to see you," grumbled the turian, his assault rifle held tightly in front of him. It looked like he was ready to shoot at any moment.

"Well that's convenient," replied Mire dryly. "Because we want to see her." The guards didn't have anything else to say, and led them through the streets of Omega towards Afterlife. Laurel's heart began to thump as they were led away from the main floor of the nightclub to a room below, darkened and balmy with heat. The red illumination threw an uncanny light onto the slim shape of Aria, her legs crossed and arms thrown out on the sofa. As if to say, I've barely any time for you. None of them said anything for a moment, each thinking the same thing. Aria was the first to speak.

"A little late, don't you think?" Grizz and Bray were behind them, closer than Laurel first thought, and they rammed the stocks of their guns into each of their upper backs. Forced to the ground, agony erupted across Laurel's shoulders as she curled in pain on the ground. She glanced up to see two other guards beside Aria, stepping only slightly into the red light.

"You've got some nerve, coming back to my station," began Aria, her voice clipped. "Unless you have my money with you, I suggest you leave quickly before I change my mind." Laurel didn't believe that for a second. She knew Aria would have them killed without a hint of remorse. Mire cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Aria…we've come back to get your help…" Laurel felt Marik wince beside her; not a good line to open up with. Aria snorted.

"You always were a slimy little weasel, Mire. Shoot them all."

"WAIT!" yelled Laurel, getting up. Grizz raised his gun to hit her again, but Aria held up a slender hand.

"Explain, human. Fast."

"It was Hobbs and Banks that betrayed you," she began, trying to keep her voice level despite her pounding heart. "They'd been in contact with Scott – his real name Stefan Jensen - all along. I knew Jensen – he was my superior officer during the First Contact War. He betrayed me and framed me for his crime-"

"Assuming this dreary story will go somewhere – may I ask what crime?" asked Aria, her voice silky smooth. There was a huge lump in Laurel's throat.

"It's irrelevant," she retorted. "He recognised me during the high stakes quasar. He knew that I was a threat and tried to kill Marik and I. We were forced to flee. We knew this would make us look like traitors-"

"It certainly did," cut in Aria again, standing up to walk right in front of Laurel. "How can I be sure that you're not just lying to me?"

"What would be the point if I was?" replied Laurel, meeting Aria's pitiless blue eyes. That seemed to make her think, if only for a brief moment.

"You want my help? What for?" Aria asked. "You seem capable."

"Find Jensen," said Laurel.

"I've been hunting that son of a bitch for a long time now. What leads have you acquired that I haven't?"

"Bekenstein," came a muffled voice to the right of Laurel. Aria's head snapped to look at Mire.

"How the fuck would you just happen to know that?" she barked. Mire got up from his crumpled position on the ground to look at her properly.

"Anise Carter," he said. "An agent for Cerberus. When I thought Laurel and Marik betrayed us, I tailed Laurel, which eventually led me to Carter, her sister."

"I know Jensen's real name and I know he belongs to Cerberus," Aria interrupted, her voice dripping with exasperation. "He has tried to muscle in on Omega before – without success of course. Cerberus keeps trying and they'll keep losing as a result."

"What I'm saying is that Anise Carter gave me his location – where he lives . Where his 'assets' are kept – not where Cerberus is based. Has a huge mansion on Bekenstein. Probably armed to the teeth," continued Mire.

"So Carter gave you this information because…?" Aria said slowly.

"She's obviously gone behind his back," cut in Laurel. "I don't trust her, but she somehow got the blackbox to me. She knows how dangerous it was for her to do so – both for her and me."

"A krogan bounty hunter has been after us all. It must be Jensen's doing," Mire added. Aria folded her arms, looking at the ground as she started to pace.

"A krogan bounty hunter?" she said, sudden exasperation in her voice. Mire and Laurel exchanged glances between each other. Aria paced back and forth for a while, leaving them all in suspended silence. When she finally stopped pacing and contemplating she turned to them, resolution in her eyes.

"So what's your plan?" she then spoke again, making them all flinch, her voice waspish.

"Plan?" said Mire dumbly.

"YES. Plan? You think raiding Jensen's mansion on Bekenstein is going to work ?"

"Yeah," replied Mire. "Yeah, we do. It's where his personal assets are kept. It's where we'll hit him and Cerberus where it hurts." Aria stared at both Mire and Laurel, observing them deeply, narrowing her eyes.

"We do this my way," she finally announced. "It's about time someone handed Jensen's ass to him. If for any second I doubt you, there'll be nothing left of you. Clear?"

"Crystal," replied Laurel, meeting Aria's cold glare. When they were allowed to stand back up, she felt the warmth of Marik's talons, suddenly enclosed in hers.

They weren't yellow. Not anymore. They were amber. Ochre. Russet. No longer piercing, but soft, full of gentleness.

"Deus," Marik told her. She tested it on her tongue, trying to pronounce it correctly. They lay side by side, waiting for Bekenstein. Waiting on a fighter piloted by Mire and one of Aria's other sheep. It was the one sofa, but it was large and soft. Bekenstein was on the other side of the galaxy so it meant lots of jumps between relays, as well as a steady four-hour trip to the system where it resided. Deus curled a talon underneath her chin, the other coiling a strand of hers round his other.

"I came back to try…. again," she whispered. She still had trouble figuring out turian facial tics as she stared into his intense eyes.

"Laurel…don't," he whispered back.

"I know I didn't speak to you for months…." She started again. His chitinous features reflected a mild sheen as she looked at him.

"Laurel…." He sighed, his talons still on her chin and in her hair. "I'm just glad you're alive." She left it at that, despite wanting to talk more. Wanting to tell him that things had changed. She felt better. She felt like for once, she had a shot at a better life. It wasn't the best time. She realised she wanted a life with him in it. He had told her the shortened version of his name. Deus. Would he do so if he were still sure about his decision?

"Try and get some sleep," he said to her softly. "This is going to be tough." She nodded, and closed her eyes, as he wrapped his arms round her tightly.

According to Anise's intel given to Mire, Jensen's mansion lay southeast of Milgrom, Bekenstein's capital. Termed as the 'human's Illium', many companies sought the planet to produce high quality entertainment and goods. All that Laurel knew about it, was that it was home to the rich – the extremely rich. It was the perfect tax-dodging haven for corrupt mega-corporations, and now it was influenced by other species after it had gained popularity with the rest of the galaxy. Same shit, different planet. Not that the planet wasn't beautiful, of course. It had comfortable temperatures, soft skies and sunsets that could rival Earth's. Mire called through to Aria.

"ETA is twenty minutes. How do you want to play this?" Laurel and Deus had moved into the cockpit.

"Leave it to me," said Aria, her voice tight. "Just get us to Milgrom." It was painfully silent for the last hour, as they went through docking clearance and half a dozen other procedures that were very clearly there to make a profit. The docking fee was already costing them an arm and a leg but Aria was unconcerned by this. She had a bulge in her jaw and her biotics flared occasionally. Laurel felt concerned – would she spare Jensen? Milgrom was a capital much like any other, filled with tall, smooth skyscrapers and thronging with people. Mostly humans, but these days more and more races had joined the crowds. Laurel could feel the balmy heat settle on her skin quickly as they walked through the capital's streets. Aria's extra backup stayed with the ship, while Mire and Pazik joined them. They took a skycab, half an hour journey outside the city, a short walk away from where Jensen's mansion lay. Laurel could feel the nerves more intensely, her knees bobbing up and down in the car, her hands clammy and writhing. Occasionally Deus would squeeze her arm, bringing her some small semblance of relief. She had to admit the countryside was beautiful – more abundant than she'd ever seen. It was covered with cinder cones, lava domes and maars, shaping the land as rutted without being mountainous. Their skycar shot past these domes where beautiful wildflowers grew on the verges. Huge unending forests continued beyond her eyesight. So much was untouched by humans, something that was very uncommon back on Earth. It was a place of beauty: a shame it served megalomaniacal interests.

"Here's the place," said Mire quietly. Aria ordered the cab to stop above half a dozen conifer-like trees, Aria could see the white, flat surface of a mansion - a mansion that boasted absolute wealth. After paying the cab driver, they found a small, hidden clearing. A bird chattered in the distance as Aria turned to address them. Laurel tried to quell her growing feelings of attachment. Why does this place have to be so beautiful, she thought.

"Plan?" asked Mire, shuffling his feet and checking his shotgun (the tenth time, Laurel noted).

"Do as I say," said Aria. "We don't know the layout of this place, but I'm willing to bet it's the same as most of the buildings on this planet."

"Why'd you say that?" asked Deus, his tone and posture displaying a sense of ease and confidence.

"Having many contacts on this planet, as well as a damn good information broker, I'd say I might've had a little insight into the schematics of Bekenstein's houses. Being a new human colony, despite the wealth, does not allow for people to go wild as house designers. Especially on the outskirts here – the planet is not fully known yet. I can guarantee this is similar to the mansions I have here," said Aria, drawing up a 3D map of a similar looking estate, showing both the grounds and the inside of the building.

"You don't know that for sure," said Deus, unimpressed by her information, folding his arms. "Humans are known for their, um, individuality. Not everything is the same – and someone like Jensen would-"

"True," cut in Aria, her voice like acid. "But I'm not going to waste time on figuring out his taste for interior design. We get a good look from the outside, we can see if it fits the other profiles for Bekenstein's prefab estate designs. Then – we split up. I want you two-" She pointed a slim blue finger at Mire and Pazik – "to go round the exterior and disable any cams. And any security guards – as long as you do it quietly." Pazik and Mire looked disappointed by the instructions to keep stealthy. "If you keep quiet, then you'll make this easier. If not – you risk getting shot. And I'm not gonna stick around to nurse you back to health."

"And what's our job?" asked Laurel.

"Us three will scout the front. Mire, you'll message me when you've finished the job out the back." It seemed an easy enough plan to begin with, but by the time they walked through uneven land and through dense woodland, they saw towering walls protecting Jensen's estate. Security cameras were on either side of the main gate, which showed a long tarmac pathway leading up to the glass double doors. All of them wore various pieces of mostly light armour, with Pazik having the heaviest. Fortunately, as a salarian, he was adept with technology and hacking the security cameras and gates were no obstacle. One by one, they filtered into the mansion's grounds.

"Fucking huge for a prefab," Mire was murmuring as they found a place to crouch behind a manicured bush, surveying the large estate.

"And obnoxious," muttered Laurel. She noticed a flashing light to her right, seeing it was Mire's omni tool. Something occurred to her.

"Mire, can you open a comm channel to my sister? To Anise Carter?" she whispered, making Aria's head snap towards her.

"We're not here to have a family reunion," she snapped.

"And we're not here to just fulfill your lust for revenge," Laurel countered.

"It's too risky anyway," replied Mire. Laurel shook her head in irritation, stepping back and beginning to feel fed up already. She should've known that this would've been hard.

"Is it? If we can get her to tell us an easier way in," she continued. Laurel felt Deus's uneasiness behind her, his flanged voice partially humming and his posture now poised in anxiety. Suddenly she felt a hand grab the visible material of her shirt above her armour. Aria's blue face came a little too close for comfort as Laurel felt her other hand draw her pistol and press it to her temple. Deus moved visibly in the background.

"Here's what we're gonna do, human," she spat. Pazik and Mire pointed their guns at Deus, who was about to lug Aria into the air.

"We're gonna go in – kill anyone we see without being killed – shoot Jensen in the head and pick up what's rightfully mine. If you wanted to go play hero, then you shouldn't have asked me to get involved." Whatever came next, Laurel was glad it was the krogan bounty hunter who had showed up behind them. He didn't say anything, obviously enraged by his failures so far and started firing concussive rounds here, there, and everywhere. Pazik was struck by one of them, breaking his shields completely as he fell to the floor. Aria whipped round to face the krogan, her body now glowing with biotic power. Laurel instinctively grabbed Deus's hand and pulled him towards the mansion.

"Laurel, it's suicide," Deus hissed as she made a beeline towards the front door. "We have no plan, no strategy, no way of knowing what's inside-"

"Deus, please," she said, pulling him round the side of the house, looking for another entrance.

"I'm not going to lose you!" he said, louder now, his hand tightening on hers.

"You're not," she replied. They could hear the cacophony behind them – she only hoped that Aria held her own against the bounty hunter. Or did she? Honestly Aria as an opponent was no less deadlier than the krogan. Thankfully there was a doorway to the side of the house near the back, this one had been left open. Jensen must be at home. In the far distance, she heard the sound of a biotic flare exploding. There were some distant shouts and yells. She pulled out her pistol as they ran through what looked like a utility room, looking into the next room through another door that had a window. No one there, thankfully. Deus had his pistol ready in his talons as he nodded to her, the first to leave the room checking to the right and left of him. When the signal was clear, he waved his hand and she moved forward, following him. His military training was showing now, probably having kicked in a long time. Laurel had to admit she was rusty and the weapon shook in her hands – although it shook for various other reasons also. They bolted through various huge rooms and down corridors to find an elevator with a terminal.

"Perfect," muttered Laurel as she accessed it. After some digging round, with Deus guarding the front, his feet unable to keep still, she found something.

"His study," said Laurel as they got into the elevator and chose their selected floor. How many floors did one need for a home?

"Laurel…." began Deus, breathing in a large breath through his nostrils. Oh no, here comes the turian lecture. "What are you looking for? Do you think we can just cart him off like we're C-Sec?" She faltered a little, seeing the fear in his eyes.

"I…we need to find Anise," she said. She didn't know what to do, she was running on adrenaline. She was tempted to shoot Jensen in both legs and cart him off to Alliance headquarters. Was it ever that simple, though? It began to occur to her that it wouldn't be, that perhaps he had bribed Alliance officials. Maybe it was extortion – selling his weapons to them for a lower price.

"We have to find his personal terminal – anything with a record of his dealings, for evidence," she said quickly. "The blackbox, I feel, isn't enough evidence. Also we have no idea what that salarian doctor might've done with it, or whether it even works." Deus gave her a nod, clearly unhappy with her way of thinking. She led the way, craning her head around walls looking for guards or anyone else. The place was unusually silent, and they hadn't come across anyone since they'd entered the house. Laurel almost could hear Deus's mind churning away in worry. Both of them could still hear the cacophony come from outside – no doubt Aria and the krogan battling each other. Finally, on the third floor they came to Jensen's personal quarters. Unfortunately, Jensen must've anticipated her, on account of the fight outside. Laurel saw her sister as soon as they entered the room.

"Anise?" she said, seeing her sister stand in front of the bedroom's large window. Her sister looked the worst Laurel had ever seen her. Her clothes were ruffled and torn in some places, her hair dishevelled. She had bruising around her left eye and cheek.

"I'm so sorry," said Anise, her voice trembling. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The unmistakable click of guns were heard from behind them and in front, beside Anise, stood Jensen. He was dressed casually – he can't have expected them, at least not today in any case. Laurel's eyes flicked over to another door in the corner of the room – probably where he'd come from. He held up a pistol, pointing it at her head directly. Ah, this feels familiar.

"Care to explain why you've broken into my house, Westfahl? And why you've brought Aria T'Loak with you?" he said, a sneer creased under his nose. "Not that it was successful. You triggered the security as soon as your mercs hacked my cameras."

"Evidence," replied Laurel, trying to keep herself calm.

"Yes, about that…." said Jensen. "Anise here was working for me all along… Shame she had to go spoil it all." Why did you do it, Anise? Her sister was opening crying now, the tears unable to stop as she stood there trembling.

"Drop your weapons," said a female voice from behind them, presumably one of his bodyguards.

"Not until I have answers first," snapped Laurel. The bodyguard slammed the barrel of her gun right between Laurel's shoulders, making her cry out in pain. Inhaling deeply, she placed her gun on the floor, catching Deus's eye as she did so.

"So I presume the blackbox is still in your possession?" sneered Jensen, having lowered his gun but was now aiming it towards Anise. "If I'm right then why would you come here?"

"Not just us we're here for - Aria ," filled in Deus, his voice growled with barely concealed contempt.

"Oh," smirked Jensen, holding the pistol higher now, aiming at Anise's chest.

"The money you stole from Aria," said Laurel. "You're a bloody idiot."

"And so are you, Westfahl," snapped Jensen. "For coming here in the first place. You hope to have your name cleared and me locked up? It's over – fourteen years over."

"I have questions – and you need to give me the answers," she said, keeping her voice steady despite her thumping heart.

"You're in no fucking position to demand anything," was all he said, before moving his head ever so slightly. What happened next was so quick Laurel barely blinked. Deus next to her had whipped round, disarming the guard behind them before she could shoot them dead. Anise leapt towards Jensen, struggling to disarm him.

"Laurel!" she cried, before he then hit her in the face, making her fall to the floor. Before Jensen could shoot her, Deus aimed with the newly acquired rifle from the guard and shot Jensen clean in the shoulder. He was thrown back violently onto the floor cursing, blood immediately soaking his shirt. Yet he kept the gun in his hand still, and let off a round – straight into Anise's head.