Notes:

CGC - Center for Galactic Cooperation

Closure

Science Lab, Gellix, Arrae System – 7 May 2189

As soon as she heard the door opening, Shepard had pulled her hand away from Liara and began turning around. Upon coming face to face with her clone, Samantha simply stared in shocked silence for a few seconds as she completed her initial assessment of the woman who stood before her. This clone was, indeed, nearly identical… but only nearly. While their faces were the same, the woman wore no armor and it was obvious she hadn't been subjected to any of the gene therapies, nor received any of the physical augmentations which had been given to Shepard. As a result, Burns looked very much like the pre-Alchera, original Shepard.

Burns didn't have anywhere near the muscle mass and bulk of the modified Spectre, so was significantly lighter in frame than Samantha. Even so, the most noticeable trait to the casual observer was her hair. The clone's hair was cropped short and the top stood straight up, as well as being dyed a rather striking cobalt blue. While reminding Shepard of the darker blue accents on Liara's armor, it was most definitely not the expected auburn red. Liara, taken aback by the woman's unexpected appearance, simply muttered a surprised, "Goddess."

Shepard, on the other hand, actually chuckled softly in reaction to Liara's response before commenting, "Pretty decent camouflage… Ms… Burns. You obviously know who I am but let me not be remiss in the normal civil pleasantries." She paused to indicate the Asari at her side. "This is Doctor Liara T'Soni, both my Executive Officer and my bondmate…" Shepard paused again, only briefly, as she pointed to her second companion. "And this is Spectre Moises T'Dura, attending this meeting to provide a second… and hopefully unnecessary… unbiased opinion, in addition to my own, since she does not possess the strong personal interest I obviously have in this case."

"Civil pleasantries." Burns canted her head questioningly to the side. "That almost sounds as though you're not here to arrest… or execute… me for my involvement in Cerberus." She huffed and shook her head. "I'll admit, I'm actually surprised – pleasantly so… don't get me wrong. If I had known that to be the case, I may have come sooner, rather than insisting I finish the repairs in the greenhouse, first." A small shrug that barely lifted her shoulders preceded her next statement. "The malfunction hadn't reached a critical stage quite yet, but I honestly wasn't sure I'd have the opportunity to finish the repairs later… and having it function at full capacity is much too important to the colony to leave to chance, so you have my thanks for that."

"Thanks for what? Not coming here with the sole purpose of killing you?" Shepard asked, a bit confused, having had absolutely nothing to do with the repairs to the greenhouse, except…

"Not storming the greenhouse while I was working is what I'm referring to, Spectre Shepard." A small, lopsided grin dared to creep onto her face.

{Goddess, Shepard… She even has your grin!}

Oblivious to the link and Liara's comment, Adrien continued, "I was told you hinted at that possibility… and, from what I hear, you're more the type to eliminate potential problems sooner, rather than later. So, thank you… for allowing me time to complete the necessary repairs."

Liara's comment through the link made Shepard smirk as she answered the clone. "Well, Ms Burns… in sharp contrast to other Cerberus soldiers I've met in my past, you have yet to attempt to kill me, so I'm simply following your lead." Shepard glanced down at the orphans playing in the courtyard below and continued, "Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?"

"Absolutely, Spectre." She took a deep breath and asked, "Would you trust my office, or would you rather go to one of the clear-dome parks we have on the station?" She ran her hand up over the top of her head – exactly as Shepard had a tendency to do, only with much less hair to run through her fingers as she did so – before she added, "Your transport, on the flight deck? One of the cafeterias? Or would you rather go somewhere else entirely?" Burns suddenly stopped and dropped her hands to her sides. "I'm sorry. My life, I'm sure, hangs in the balance of this discussion… and, it appears, I'm just a tad bit nervous."

"We're no longer in the middle of a damned war, Burns," answered Shepard. It was Samantha's turn to grin as she continued, "And, while I will admit to being very protective of those I care for, I generally try to not kill people unless they honestly deserve it. So, unless you give me a good reason, you're not going to make that list any time soon."

A quick thought to Liara had the Asari continuing the conversation. "If you'll permit me a quick scan… no offense intended, simply a security precaution… your office would be perfectly fine."

"I have nothing to hide from you, Doctor… or you, Shepard." Burns breathed a little easier as she added, "You are more than welcome to do any scans you deem necessary for your group's safety. I would expect nothing less."

Adrien Burns' version of her history varied little from Miranda's summary, but offered even more detail into the machinations of the Illusive Man that prompted the rebellion of the Dragoons. Towards the end of her story, she had begun to pace nervously. "Light and lethal. As a Phoenix Vanguard, the Charge and Smash was a deadly combo… especially if the target wasn't thrown out of range of the Lash as a result."

Shepard found herself wanting to reach up and massage her throat, the memory of a Dragoon Lash wrapping around her neck bringing painful memories to the fore. The only thing that kept her from doing so was a brazen Liara, reaching over… in full view of Adrien Burns… to catch and hold Samantha's hand, both keeping her from raising it and providing a comforting touch to ease the painfulness of the memory.

The clone never noticed, wrapped up as she was in her recollection of that time in her life. "Harper had a great capability at his beck and call… which, as a politician instead of a warrior, he had absolutely no idea how to wield…" She laughed anxiously and continued, "And then, my chance finally came. All those idiots who had been so caught up in the cause… including the other two clones! All of them finally started to get worried… and all it took was Harper bringing in Reaper Tech! How could they have been so damned blind? Reaper Tech! Then, what I had known all along finally dawned on them … the man was indoctrinated! He had to be! I don't know how many vids he had shown us of his supposedly regular soldiers… none of them were really Human anymore! Extolling on the virtues of their implants… how much stronger… more determined and effective they were." She stopped dead and turned toward her three visitors.

"He just couldn't see that victory alone – with the utter and complete loss of our Humanity – meant absolutely nothing. Cerberus had never been anything but another Reaper tool… just like the Collectors, all the rest of the Husks… and even the Citadel. And it would never change as long as Jack Harper sat at the helm. It had never been about Humanity rising to the top… It was about a Reaper-controlled force destroying the resistance from within… and none of them could see it. Even then, with all the Reaper tech! They simply realized they didn't want to be changed into whatever those soldiers had become."

"I'm sorry." Adrien drew air in and blew out a shuddering breath. "I just hate how he managed to manipulate everyone… people, good and bad, suffered at his hands. But bringing in the Reaper Tech started a movement… which even Shepard…"

She paused, wide-eyed in horror, and focused on the 'real' Shepard before her and started speaking really fast. "One of the clones kept your name… even took off her helm in front of the others to prove who she was. I don't know what her deal was, but I could tell she was different… almost like she honestly believed she had been reborn after the terrible attack over Alchera. I knew better because I had memories of our awakening… I knew we were more than one, so it was pretty obvious to me we were all clones… but, I'm sorry… I have no idea how many of us there are!"

Shepard had started to appreciate the clone's honesty, so immediately decided to tell her what they knew… first to get the rest of the story out of her, but also to ease her panic. It was apparent that this… clone… had never considered being, or even trying to become, the real Samantha Shepard. "It's okay, Adrien. We do."

"What?" She stopped short in relieved surprise, only to have it shift immediately to indignation. "You know? Then what the Hell am I doing this for? Is this a test of my honesty?"

Shepard held up both hands in a mute plea for a chance to explain herself. "No, Ms Burns. The fact you have lived here… made a life for yourself and these others for all this time? I believe you. It's just… well, there's more to the story you don't know."

"So, you know how many are out there?" Appeased, Adrien returned to the conference table and slumped into a chair. "Will you tell me?"

"Absolutely. I let you continue because we didn't have any of the details you just gave us… so, thank you. One of our allies is Miranda Lawson, the former Cerberus agent who initiated the program, but left with me when my reconstruction was complete. After that, all we have are the digital reports on Project Phoenix… incomplete and questionable, at best, in accuracy. You've given us more info in five minutes than we were able to find in a year."

Shepard continued to relay all she had learned from Miranda and their review of the digital records. As she concluded, she added, "Soooo… as far as we know, you're the only one who remains alive."

Her shoulders drooping, Adrien shook her head. "I guess I should have expected that. I was sad when Olivia… the clone that died in the escape attempt… didn't make it. I thought, then, that the wrong clone was killed. I guess the actions of Miss 'Would-be' Shepard proved me right." Her expression suddenly hardened as she added, "There was something not right about that woman… it was like Olivia got your good heart, I received your intellect, and Shepard… well, she received your rather impressive soldier's instincts but, it seemed to me, without principles to regulate her actions. It was like she had no comprehension of right or wrong, no emotions… no conscience. She simply enjoyed killing and would do anything the Illusive Man told her to do, including the executions of two of our more uncooperative classmates, who were crazy enough to speak out against the Illusive Man." She paused to look Spectre Shepard in the eye before adding, "It may be a terrible thing to say, but I'm glad you killed her."

For the first time in the entire conversation, Liara stepped in, wanting to refocus the discussion on the main purpose of their visit – the surviving clone sitting across the table from them. "So, what are your plans, Adrien? If we simply climb back aboard the Knight Shade and go on our way, what will you do?"

Adrien's face took on a soft smile and she let out a little huff of a laugh. "I'll praise the Gods that be and go on with my life here." She looked at Shepard. "I know you are so much more than a soldier, Spectre. I see the news, read the biographies and the stories people write about you." She shrugged and her smile widened. "You're smart… a thinker… and I'd like to thank you because, while you may have chosen to enter the military, you gave me the genes – the intellect – to be a scientist. My specialization of choice is botany, and I've made considerable improvements in our greenhouses here. My intent, if you'll let me, is to continue to do so."

The scientist in Liara got the better of her, and she couldn't help but ask, "What kinds of improvements?"

"Oh, all kinds of things!" Adrien brightened at the prospect of being able to discuss her work. "The most important is the development of cold-weather varietals that can actually be grown outside, here, with minimal sheltering. They still need to be protected from the heavy winds and bitter winter season… but a few of my experiments can actually grow outside during the summer and fall here! My goal is to modify an even larger number of species… and increase their tolerances for cold even more." She smiled as she added, "It's absolutely fascinating… and has implications for a number of planets, not just Gellix! What I've already accomplished could easily improve production at a number of colonies that currently exist on beltline worlds!"

"Beltline?" Shepard asked.

Both Liara and Adrien turned to her and started to explain, Liara stopping immediately and stating, "It's your project… please, go ahead."

With a quick nod, Adrien explained, "A world with a relatively narrow band of greenspace, normally surrounding the world at its equator… like a belt. The modified varietals could potentially widen the belt into the slightly colder regions. Even if by only a few kilometers, over the entire circumference of the planet, it would greatly increase their food production capacity."

Shepard's eyes had widened as soon as the clone… Adrien… had begun her explanation, catching on immediately and understanding the potential. "That would be… awesome!"

Shepard suddenly glanced to her side and asked, "Spectre T'Dura? Any issues or questions?"

Moises shook her head and pushed her chair back, standing as she said, "None. I honestly believe we're done here."

Shepard rose with her, Liara and Adrien immediately following as Samantha reached out to shake the station director's hand. "I never thought it possible, but it's been a pleasure meeting you, Director."

"Likewise, Spectre." Adrien clasped the woman's hand for the first time. "I couldn't have dreamed up a better outcome for this initial meeting… and I'd like to think this doesn't necessarily have to be our last?"

{I don't believe I'm saying this, but I, too, would like to stay in touch with her, Sam… She has some interesting ideas!}

They dropped hands and Shepard smiled as she responded, "I'd like that." She glanced quickly at Liara, acknowledging her nod of approval before looking back at Adrien and continuing, "We'd like that. We'll pass our contact information to your comm center before we break orbit."

"As will I." T'Dura nodded at Adrien and added, "And, I'm not sure if you're ready to take the next step, but you should consider filing for official colonial status here, to protect yourselves. Gellix is currently an open world… a levo-world given to the Krogan after the Rachni wars but, following the Rebellions, was placed under guardianship of the Turians… who can't even live here without special adaptations. With everything you've already done here, you have more of a claim than either of them."

"Agreed." Shepard immediately nodded in accord. "I, for one, would happily champion your request with the council… and, I have an excellent relationship with the Krogan who, while not yet having taken any official action, have already made a bit of noise about reclaiming Gellix as an expansion world. If you would be willing to share the planet, I would happily talk to Wrex and Bakara for you… to avoid any conflict. I promise – you'd have good neighbors, hard workers, and a built-in security force, all in one."

"I believe we could come to some accommodation, Spectre Shepard, and would accept any help you are willing to provide." Adrien couldn't believe how the day had turned out, and her relief was evident. "I'll need to talk to my people first, to confirm it's a path we are willing to travel. I'll do that soon and let you know. Travel safe out there, Spectres… Doctor. Some selfishly expect you to continue working miracles, but you can't be everywhere. They simply don't realize that they have to be the ones to pick themselves up. Everyone on this station understands that… and, I'd like to think we can be part of the solution by setting an example." A wide smile crossed her face as she finished, "In the meantime… if you're in the area, just want to check in, or even need some help… feel free to stop in. Our door will always be open to you." Her eyes shifted to Moises. "All of you."

Nyocha, At Large, Sigurd's Cradle – 9 May 2189

Turian Spectre Quintian Akril stood a meter away from the U-shaped console at the forward-most position on the ship's bridge. He had quickly gotten used to the sweeping view – ahead, above, below and to both sides – afforded by the reinforced clear panels installed on the nose of this ship. As one of four prototypes for an exploration vessel being shipped to the Andromeda Galaxy, the Nyocha was the last and most advanced of the ships constructed by the Initiative, before being abandoned with its predecessors in the Far Rim.

To his right, Pilot Kaetus Adalius had just engaged the cloaking generator and was scanning the area around their position for any vessels he needed to avoid. To his left, ship's navigator Lieutenant Taia Maldros had just finished plotting a course through the cluster to Decorus. Akril's ultimate destination was Firebase Glacier, an abandoned Cerberus base on the second planet, Sanctum.

Turning towards Maldros, he said, "Make sure our flightpath is well clear of Psi Tophet and 2181 Despoina, Lieutenant. Reading Spectre Shepard's report on her encounter with the Leviathans is the stuff of nightmares. We don't want to travel within a million klicks of that place."

Taia turned her golden-hued eyes on her captain, replying, "Yes Sir. You'll get no argument from me on that subject, and…" She paused as she compiled more data from her sensors. "The warning buoys are all in operation, Sir. Triggering any of them would send an intrusion signal to Omega Station." She chuckled, the sound resonating with her rich sub-harmonics. "After traversing six relays to arrive here so we could avoid traversing Sahrabarik, the last thing we want to do is alert anyone on that miserable rock to our presence."

"I'm glad we are in agreement, Lieutenant." Akril looked to his pilot. "Commander Adalius. You have the course locked into the navi-computer?"

"Yes, Sir. No other vessels on sensors. Cloaking generator operating within established parameters. We're ready to go."

The Spectre shifted his gaze to the area ahead of them. "Very well, Commander. Jump to FTL. I want to get in and get out without being noticed by anyone."

Outwardly, Quintian appeared to be the definition of calm; inside, he was quite nervous. The trip here from the CGC had taken longer than was normal; he had chosen a round-about route to Sigurd's Cradle, purposely avoiding the more direct route of traversing the Omega relay. Going through the Eagle Nebula to the Shrike Abyssal, then through the Raheel-Leyya relay in the Valhallan Threshold had added nearly four hours to their transit time, the majority of which had been spent standing by for each relay to realign for the next transit. Couldn't be helped, he mused. We can always return through Sahrabarik, when we have what we came for. It'll be too late then for the queen to do anything to hinder us.

He watched intently as the Nyocha gathered speed, creating the illusion of distant stars becoming streaks of red that shortened in length as their velocity increased. Turning away from the view forward, he began walking aft while saying, "I'll be in my quarters, Adalius. Call me when we reach the system's outer boundary."

The acknowledgement was immediate. "Yes, Sir."

Nyocha, Orbiting Sanctum, Decorus System – 9 May 2189

Quintian studied the tactical display in the increasingly vain hope he might discover some way to land at the base; even after thoroughly reviewing Spectre Shepard's after-action report describing her wartime assault on the site, he had believed he could find a landing site – a platform, large enough on which to park a frigate-sized vessel – originally overlooked by the Human Spectre.

Velmius Florius, his 'second' on the mission, huffed in exasperation. "I don't see any place large enough to set this ship down, Sir. It appears we'll have to fly down in the shuttle."

Holding both hands palms up in front of his hips – a Turian expression similar to a shoulder shrug – Quintian replied good-naturedly, "As much as it pains me to admit it, I concur with your assessment. You'll accompany me on the search and watch my six… I'll assign Ensign Octasia to be our pilot. If the shuttle cannot set down nearby and our mission goes sideways, she'll be close enough to quickly retrieve us."

He flared and dropped his mandibles, adding, "Shepard went in while Cerberus was still in possession of the place, so didn't have the time needed to adequately scan the laboratory. Our own scans indicate the place is totally devoid of life of any kind. It appears to be abandoned, but sensors are indicating an operational automated defense network."

Quintian tipped his head as he considered his options. After several minutes spent watching the slowly rotating tactical display, he announced, "We'll bring Specialist Corvannis along… he's an excellent programming tech – should be capable of dealing with any security programming Cerberus left behind. Let's gear up. Sooner we get down there, see what's hidden inside, the better I'll feel." Heading through the nearby hatch to the hanger deck, he added, "We'll change the shuttle's transponder to use a wartime Cerberus code… should keep whatever that place is using for defense from shooting at us."

Cerberus Firebase Glacier, Sanctum, Decorus System – 9 May 2189

Ensign Orinia Octasia brought the UT-47A to a stationary hover beside the long platform; after carefully checking clearances all around, she side-slipped the ungainly craft towards the platform until she could safely set down. Speaking over her shoulder as she cut power to the ventral thrusters, she said, "Starboard side hatch only, Sir. Nothing outside the port hatch but cold air."

Quintian chuckled as he opened the starboard hatch and peered at the reception area. "Warning noted, Orinia. Contact Nyocha – report us safely on the ground." He stepped down onto the platform, followed by Sergeant Florius and Specialist Corvannis. As the pair split up and moved to the front and rear of the shuttle, Quintian stuck his head back inside. "Keep the core hot, Orinia… just in case we need to leave in a hurry,"

She nodded once, saying, "Yes, Sir. I'll maintain an open comm-link as well, Sir."

The Spectre chuckled softly. "I gather you're not a fan of haunted houses, Ensign." At her questioning look, he added, "Human stories of creepy, evil places usually feature an abandoned structure rumored to be haunted by the spirits of those long dead… haunted houses."

She chuckled nervously in return. "Thank you, Sir. I feel so much better now."

Quintian turned, said, "Florius. Corvannis," and cautiously moved through an open doorway to the right, then up the short flight of stairs to the left. Reaching the top, he paused at Specialist Corvannis' warning to wait as he drew abreast of his position.

Activating his omnitool, Corvannis entered a series of commands; upon inspecting the results, he closed the tool and reported, "Sentry turret disabled, Sir.

Quintian looked questioningly at the specialist, who simply pointed towards the hall. "Ceiling mounted dual auto-targeting miniguns, Sir. They would have activated as soon as we entered."

The Spectre nodded mutely, then cautiously stepped through the opening into the next area on the left. The disabled guns hung forlornly from the ceiling ten meters from the entry. A visual inspection of the area ahead led to the discovery of several data-entry terminals below a bank of windows overlooking the shuttle landing area; Corvannis carefully inspected each until he discovered the one he felt was most important: the base security station.

While Akril and Sergeant Florius waited nearby, the young specialist activated the device and quietly went to work. Within minutes, he had deciphered the character string needed for access; once in, he disabled security protocols for the entire facility. "It should be safe to continue our explorations, Sir."

Quintian moved past Corvannis; singling out a newly active haptic keyboard in the middle of a U-shaped console, he said, "See what you can find on that device, Specialist."

While the Spectre and Sergeant Florius slipped around the console to move deeper into the complex, Corvannis eagerly moved to the terminal. After entering a short string of characters, the viewscreen came to life, accompanied by a chime; within a few moments, the specialist was inspecting an index of the data stored on the main server. Eyes wide in surprise, he nervously announced, "Spectre Akril? You should see this, Sir."

Quintian came back across the room to stand behind and to one side of Corvannis. "What have you discovered, Specialist?"

"Cerberus was pursuing a number of research avenues, all designed for a common purpose – the eradication or control of every non-Human species in the entire galaxy!… as if the Reapers weren't doing that already!" He paused to study information in one of the files.

"It appears the Illusive Man was particularly interested in eliminating Turians – most of the data stored on this server points to a particularly lethal bioengineered disease that, fortunately, had not been perfected when it was abandoned in favor of research into weaponizing Reaper tech."

"Damn! Cerberus was following in the footsteps of the Collectors. They used the same tactic on Omega Station before the war – eliminated a large number of Blue Suns and a fair number of Batarian civilians with a laboratory-created plague." He paused for a moment before asking, "How close were they to perfecting this one, Specialist?"

Corvannis scrolled down through several screens of data before slowly responding, "Estimated time of nine to twelve months, Sir." After a momentary pause to study another document, he added, "There is also a file here containing data on an antidote, which does look complete."

The Spectre thought about this for a moment, then ground out, "Spirits! Create the antidote first, then create the infection. Brilliant strategy… they could infect a few prisoners – test subjects – so would need to keep them alive… cure them after infecting them." Quintian paused before adding in a low voice, "Perfect blackmail device! Record a demonstration on some Turians… after the first few succumb to the chemical, cure the rest! Jack Harper wanted the Human race ruling over all the other races, galaxy-wide! He knew – and rightly so – that we would never submit to Human rule… his rule!… unless he could wield a devastating weapon… or weapons."

While Quintian was speaking, Specialist Corvannis had been browsing through the contents on the server. "There are files in here on every race in the galaxy, Sir… from Batarians to Yahg… all at varying degrees of completion… there is even a file on Humans! Best I can tell, most of their research was not as far along as what they had on our own people, but there's no question the Illusive Man felt this research was the way for him to rule the galaxy – at least until he became obsessed with becoming the ultimate dictator, with the Reapers under his control as his enforcers."

Akril leaned heavily on the counter, contemplating his choices. Pushing away from the edge, he growled, "Is it any wonder humanity is looked upon with such a high degree of mixed emotions by us and the other races? That a 'Samantha Shepard' can rise up from the same species that gave birth to a 'Jack Harper'? After discovering what was being done here, I can more easily understand why she renounced her Human citizenship in favor of becoming a citizen of Thessia."

Focusing on the young specialist, he made a low noise in his throat before continuing, "Make sure to copy over all the research notes on every antidote they created, then purge that server. Ensure there are no copies or notes on these bioweapons stored here or offsite. I cannot fathom the damage that could be done if some criminal got their hands on them! Having data on the antidotes will at least give our scientists a head start, should stockpiled examples of this twisted research be discovered at another site!"

Corvannis asked, "Sir, would it not be better to copy all of their research notes before I purge everything from the servers?"

Quintian fixed Corvannis with a glacial stare as he said, "Explain your reasoning, Specialist."

Corvannis studied the monitor for several moments before replying. "I am not a research scientist, Sir… that said, I believe anyone tasked with creating an antidote for any of these plagues would need access to the research that originally created them." He pointed to a diagram depicting the assembled chemical chains for the Turian poison. "In order for an antidote to be effective, it has to be formulated to counter this specific chemical chain. Changing just one component of this compound might cause it to work in an entirely different way – or not work at all; without modifications that target the changed formula, this antidote might not be as effective … or would have absolutely no impact whatsoever."

Akril slowly paced back to their entry point, then returned to stand in front of Corvannis. As the first Turian chosen to be a Spectre since Saren's betrayal of the Council, he was well aware of how minutely the new Galactic Council would scrutinize each action he took. After several moments spent in silent thought, he said, "I believe your reasoning is sound, Specialist. Encrypt all the data and copy it onto an OSD, then purge the server. Make sure it's wiped clean."

Corvannis acknowledged the Spectre as he began the process. While he was engaged in his task, Akril left to find Sergeant Florius.

The Spectre descended a wide staircase to the lower level, to find Florius at a stand-alone console. "What have you found, Sergeant?"

Florius looked over his shoulder at Quintian. "I'm gonna need help from the specialist on deciphering this one, Sir." There was a note of unease in his sub-harmonics as he asked, "Do you recall the Council's reports concerning the Raloi – 2184, 2185 or so?"

Akril dropped and spread his mandibles as he nodded. "Avian species, correct? Something about contracting some virulent form of respiratory illness during the welcome ceremonies on their homeworld?"

Florius turned back to the display monitor. "It wasn't a new virus, Sir… Its source was an old avian flu virus originating on Terra and carried by other species with no ill effects. It only infected the Raloi, Sir… and these notes indicate the more lethal, mutated version of the virus originated right here in this lab."

"Spirits! Didn't these bastards have any scruples?! Infect a newly discovered species with a life-threatening disease before they could even become part of the galactic community? Why?"

"If I'm reading these research notes correctly, that's exactly what Cerberus did. As to why? The Illusive Man always felt humankind was better than other species and deserved to rule us all. In this particular case, the virus already existed on Earth, so was rather simple to create a mutation with increased infection rates for the Raloi… There's even a note in here that Harper was disappointed it didn't kill them outright… that the feathered bastards only wound up having to wear environmental suits – not unlike the Quarians – in order to interact with the other alien species on the Citadel."

"The Raloi simply got lucky, then, with the timing of the Reaper invasion. Who knows what Cerberus would have come up with next. Now that the war is done, I have to wonder what happened to them… the Raloi, that is."

"There was a delegation on the Citadel when the Reapers entered Kite's Nest. They left immediately to return to their homeworld – Turvess –with a plan to destroy all the orbiting satellites and observation equipment. Their hope was that the Reapers would see them as a pre-spaceflight civilization and bypass them." Holding up his wrist-mounted omnitool, he added, "There's no mention of them in our own recent history, so I can't say whether they survived the war or not. I don't know that we ever attempted to contact them again… but the Galactic Council may have some information they haven't shared with us."

Quintian turned at a slight noise behind him; Specialist Corvannis had come down the stairs. "Everything copied onto OSDs and the server has been purged, Sir. What have you found here?"

"The sergeant will fill you in, Specialist. Same protocol as before." The Spectre moved back in order to provide space for Corvannis to work. "I'll look around some more… see what other nightmares exist on their remaining servers."

The Turian Spectre carefully inspected the entire lower level, then slowly climbed the short flight of stairs to yet another workstation, this one overlooking one end of the landing area. He unthinkingly ran a talon through an innocent looking, orange-glowing Haptic switch, and was immediately sorry for doing so; a synthetic voice, sounding Human in origin, began speaking. It urged anyone listening to immediately vacate the facility, without explaining the reason for the instructions.

Accompanying the chiming countdown, Sergeant Florius' voice sounded in his earpiece. "We need to get clear of this place, Spectre. Every terminal we activated is flashing a red pictograph of a human skull. I think Cerberus left an ugly present behind!"

"How much time do we have? Is there a count-down?"

If the sergeant was worried, he didn't allow it to color his voice. "Looks like five minutes."

"Okay… Get to the shuttle – Ensign Octasia! Float sideways so we can get out of here without delay!" Upon receiving an acknowledgment from each of them, he continued, "Specialist Corvannis, see if you can stop whatever is about to happen… I'll join you momentarily."

Quintian began moving as Corvannis acknowledged him, wishing as he ran that he'd left that particular console alone.

He reached the area where he had left Florius and Corvannis in time to see the specialist use his omnitool to overload the terminal; as the interface dissolved in a spray of electrical arcing, he began running towards the landing pad. Aware the Spectre was behind him, he spoke into his comms, "Heading back towards the landing area and the other terminal I didn't access."

Sliding to a stop, Corvannis activated the terminal. Upon studying the display for a few moments, he relaxed slightly. "Nerve gas, Sir – quite lethal to Humans, Salarians and Batarians – not so much for Turians, but still nasty. I can stop the countdown."

Quintian could see their shuttle; Orinia had it hovering in place a half-meter from the platform's edge, with the fore and aft thrusters operating intermittently to prevent it from drifting. While she waited with the side hatch wide open, she quickly plotted and entered the most efficient course away from her current position.

Corvannis pulled an OSD from its slot adjacent to the console, shut down the terminal and turned to Quintian. "We can leave, Sir. I directed the computer to inject a neutralizing agent into the reservoirs; anything released now will be inert. I made a copy of the formula they used to synthesize the gas and scrubbed the software from their servers. Any future treasure hunters arriving here will find nothing of interest – even the hardware is outdated."

"Well done." The Spectre nodded in approval. "The information we gathered today could potentially prevent a lot of damage… save a lot of lives. Let's get back to our ship, see what's next."

Quintian and Corvannis moved to the waiting shuttle and jumped inside. The instant her last two passengers were inside, Orinia had the craft accelerating up and away from the station, before the hatch even had time to close and seal.

The Spectre, mandibles waggling in nervous relief, sighed heavily as he plopped into the co-pilot's seat beside his pilot. He studied her profile for a moment before saying, "Nice dust-off, Ensign."

Orinia, face coloring slightly in embarrassment, glanced briefly at Quintian before answering, "Thank you, Sir."