/ - - - - /

_-== Eden Prime - Constant Spaceport - Alliance Cargo 7D ==-_

/ - - - - /

I watched as the Alliance frigate lifted effortlessly into the sky. Its performance was very different to any familiar Alliance design, nothing the Systems Alliance had usually made could turn like that. It must have had a massive drive core. Which could explain the Special Reconnaissance designation..

Normandy..

I'd slipped out of sight when the craft had descended, although I'd gotten a good look at it from atop the service corridor when it had departed. The starboard wing passed a few bare metres away. The pilot was either a genius or an idiot.

At least they were Systems Alliance. The bustle that had poured out to recover their own and the Private was a good portent.

\ Warning - Power 1% shutdown in 720s \

\ Notification - Message Received [1] \

I binked in surprised at the notification. Nothing knew how to communicate with me like this. I flicked the mental equivalent of an Open button.

-Message-
From: Arleon
To: location:attention(me)
Sent: 17,878,987.5 days ago [local]
- Warning - message corrupted, partial reconstruction -
Kar'se##############igel##################ears####
###############slee################critical-fai#####
#########ortant#################this##############
####last###################Keepe################
by##################mperor's-circ#################
#############innerhal###########################a
#######Eribis##############################behind
space################################time#######
~unrecoverable content~
######################sent##############t#######
################pire############################
###########orrow############################eon.
-End Content-
- Meta - handler=EmpireSignallingService[QRelay21,offline] -
-End Message-

I dwelt on the name. She'd sent me a message, all that time ago. And it'd been stuck in that relay, blocked and degraded.
I'd never..
I sighed and let the Armour melt away. The lingering afternoon sun warming my face.

I'd never even considered it. This was sent long after.. very long after. I'd thought they were all gone. The last days had been... chaotic. Filled with tough choices and bad memories that I'd buried eons ago.

Yet, she'd reached out to me, here.. in particular.

I chuckled in personal lament.
Of course if I was still alive I'd have come back home... Protheans lived and died by their models and predictions; they were often right too. What I'd bet she didn't expect was me only receiving it a cycle later, and so little of it.

So, what of it..?

I smiled as the proverbial penny slowly dropped.
If there was a place they could hide something after the purge it had to have been there. The cunning bastards, I'd not even thought to look.. no one would.

I shook my head again. There was enough to work with, even belatedly. Firstly there were only five wards, all of them had at least one eribis.. a missing void… a null space.. - translations didn't carry too well without the Prothean context - but only one was accessible from the habitable space.

The other clue was one I was less inclined to visit. There was only one way in and no purpose to ever go there.

I stared into the sky where the Reaper had long vanished without a trace.

Maybe that was the point.

/ - - - - /

_-== Normandy SR1 - enroute to Secondary Relay 323 ==-_

/ - - - - /

The medbay was uncomfortable and quiet. The doctor had excused her self to a rear office, leaving Alex sat up in the sole occupied bed. He watched the officer pace up and down the length of the room, stopping at the foot of his bed to tap the data pad he must have read a dozen times over.

"Run that by me again, Private. You were helped? By who?"

Alex Conning, Pvt 1st class, rubbed his temples. Thinking hurt. His head hurt, his legs hurt, his back hurt.. actually, yes.. most of him just hurt. "A scientist.. a Dr.. or Mr.. Karsen, I think. Sir."

The staff Lt read back the statement he'd taken earlier, Alex winced at the interpretation. "... and somehow you got him all the way to the Space Port. Alone.", doubt dripped off of every laboured syllable. "Am I reading this correctly, Private?"

"N-no sir. He got me there; sir."

Lieutenant Kaden Alenko sighed, "You would truthfully have it on-record that you disobeyed a direct order, given to you by your commanding officer; to accompany a civilian, half way across the settlement, on some ludicrous errand.. while in the middle of an active conflict zone. Abandoning your direct charge unguarded in an insecure location while your unit sacrificed themselves in the defence of Systems Alliance territory? … Soldier? and.. to add to the already questionable tale; that you single handedly held off an army of Geth at the cargo dock in defence of this fictitious civilian?"

"He was attempting to secure the Beacon, sir", the Private's head dropped in honest defeat.

"I don't think you quite understand the seriousness of the charges you're going to face for lying to a superior officer, Private.", Alenko put the data pad down on the desk with a punctuating click. "Desertion. Intentional dereliction of duty. Wilful exposure of civilians to direct and immediate danger. Direct interference in a classified operation. Assumption of responsibility outside of your remit." He counted out on an open hand. Pausing to pick up the pad again.

"And worst of all, Private; Suspected interference in materials of galactic protected status that directly endangered the life of a superior officer."

"I-"

"There's not a lot in your favour here, Private."

"I.. Sir, it.. what I told you is the truth, sir."

Alenko sighed. "So you say, Private."

"If you were to scan the beacon, sir, there may-"

"There is nothing to scan, Private. The beacon has been destroyed, exploded in an incident at the dock and almost causing serious harm to a highly decorated soldier…", Alenko pecked at the datapad and closed the report. "very well, Private.. if this is your testimony I will leave it to the court martial to decide-"

"but sir-"

The medical bay door slid open. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

Alenko snapped a salute. "Captain. Commander."

The one addressed as the Commander quietly took up station by the door as it hissed closed behind the Lt. Folding his arms and leaning against the wall to disappear into the scenery.

The captain walked up calmly, "You alright there, son?"

Alex tried a salute, The pain in his arm making him grimace. The captain waved it away,

"The Doctor says you should have lost almost all movement of the arm. Shattered scapula, multiple serious bullet wounds, spinal fractures", he seemed to read off an internal list. The captain eyed him carefully. "Various skeletal fractures, extensive blood loss. Second and third degree lacerations, muscle tears and significant internal bleeding. Exhausted medigel and over stimmed.. By all accounts, and especially by that of your armour - that the good doctor had to cut off of you - you shouldn't be sitting there."

Alex shifted uncomfortably. "I told the Lieutenant, sir-"

"I know what you told the Lt, son. He's just doing his diligence. That is not why I am here."

"Sir?"

"The problem is not the record, you see.. It's that you survived it. And by the time we picked you up had apparently achieved the medical impossibility of already having started to, and continue to, heal from most of it."

The captain casually left the observation hanging in the air. All the while watching the young soldier carefully.

"So, why don't you start at the beginning and tell me how you didn't end up a casualty."

An hour later Chakwas ended the conversation, Doctor's orders.

Commander Shephard stepped silently into the elevator. Anderson tapped the console.

"The kid's not lying, captain. He believes everything he said."

"Yes. I agree. Chakwas's account ties in, as unbelievable as it is. He does not have answers. The Geth were here with Saren, that is as much as we know for certain. This still leaves the other unknown. Someone was there, with the kid, Shepard. Before you. Possibly before Saren. And if the Private's account is true then they were a step ahead of us.. and Saren. This leaves a lot of open questions. My gut tells me it ties together."

"Do we know if the Alliance had any other personnel down there?"

"No.. We're pulling the names of the staff on the site but coming up empty on details."

Shepard frowned. "How is there no record of a System's Alliance operation? There was an assigned local garrison and an Alliance cordon, records are automatic."

"More questions, commander. All I know is that Nihlus' OP was a priority. Nothing else was ment to be in the assessment.

Saren and the Geth are the top priority. I won't let this go cold but Saren risked a lot for something.. something important.

You saw it, I believe you. There's too much riding on the consequences if we let this go.

The problem is that the council will want to pin Nihlus on someone and their top agent is not going to be an easy one to blame. I won't lie to you commander. Between the Beacon, Geth and Saren we have our work cut out for us in keeping our heads above water. Saren and I have a history. He's dead set against humanity. I can believe he is involved in this, I do not trust him; if the beacon had some secret he could use against us then we're in a serious race for time.

But none of this is evidence.

An attack on a Human world could give the Ambassador reason to demand a response from the Council. But we're going to have to link Saren and the Geth. You have the dockworker's account, your corroboration and the interaction with the beacon; this is all we're going to have to push with. The Private's testimony is littered with too many holes to withstand political scrutiny.

Go speak with Gunnery Chief Williams. I'm assigning her to your squad. See if she can fill in some of the blanks."

"And the kid, sir?"

"Your call. See Chakwas. His record is clean, this was his last tour before N2 call up. Kid's got spirit, I'll give him that. He isn't saying a lot, it's in the eyes. But he's earnest; it could simply be coping. He may just have been in the wrong place at the right time.

I'm truncating the medical and mission record, Chakwas is in agreement. A lot of good people died down there. It would be a pity to run him out of the Alliance for the count of surviving..." Anderson cast a long look at the silent commander. "Report back to me by 18-hundred."

He stepped out of the elevator. Navigator Pressly was already waiting, ready for the Captain with a pile of data pads stowed under his arm. "And commander.. we'll crack this."

/ - - - - - /

_-== Civilian Transport ACV-23118 : Evacuation Special to Arcturus Station ==-_

/ - - - - - /

Civilian transports were glorified sardine cans. A hundred refugees and determined escapees mumbled in hushed silence. Some clutching random grab bags of belongings. Most nothing, save expressions of determination.

"..going to enlist?" The female voice next to me was matched with sharp blue eyes. I had nearly missed the opening to the conversation. The intelligent gaze flitted to the multitude of stern visages that mostly remained locked to the floor.

"Me? No… no, not like that."

The woman looked thoughtful. "You just had the same expression. Sorry-"

"Ah. No. Not if I can help it.", I cast a half smile."I nodded in the direction. "Do you know them?"

"A few. Some joined the militia during the attack. Two arcologies collapsed, another three severely damaged. Then the fighting. Almost everyone here lost someone.. Everyone copes differently.."

"Are you headed for Arcturus too?"

"Oh? no..no..meeting my editor then routing to the Citadel. This..", She glanced across the still transport cabin before reflexively adjusting a shoulder strap, a datapad slung within easy grasp.".. is human interest."

I raised an eyebrow, the details clicking into place. "What brought you to Constant?"

"Following a lead.. before the attack turned it into a real case."

"Now I'm just curious.. A lead about the attack?"

"Anti-Human.", her eyes flashing, "The System's Alliance is sitting on credible intel. Growing movements within council space are colluding to undermine human interests and capability."

I watched her carefully as I thought through the revelation.. "In nineteen years humanity went from a galactic unknown to a challenger of the established order… rumours and backalley whispers are par for the course on that ground alone, don't you think?"

She shook her head, "This is an escalation." She lent closer. "The recent discoveries on Eden Prime.. technology that could change the balance of power in the galaxy-"

"Discoveries?", I played to genuine surprise.

"Don't you follow the news?", she lent away, seemingly taken aback, "Something really big was going down on Eden Prime.. Prothean finds popping up like nobody's business. More chatter on the information market than ever. The last time there was this much excitement we catapulted from Earth to the Galaxy. Look.. I'm not 'anti' the other races.. but humanity got going without their interference and since the System's Alliance joined the council accords they've done nothing but impede our progress while taking every opportunity to sit back and leave us to fight our own corner. There are established powers that would prefer humanity to fail and supplicate itself to the order rather than continue to grow." The young woman's eyes never faltered in her conviction, "I just think we would be better off alone."

I rubbed my chin. Rummaging through the mental drawners to place the all too familiar digestion.

"Elysium or Mindor?"

Her eyes widened. The shock of the calculated name drop clearly disarming her. "How did-"

"Not my first.", I waved off the explanation. "The experience either broke or hardened people.. some both. Family?"

She leaned back, eyes closed. Her short black ponytail splayed on the rest as she shook her head, "No one gets there that quickly.."

"I've worked with survivors. No one came from there unscarred in a myriad of ways." I turned to face her. "But that was a long time ago. Look. What happened here is a far cry from the Baterian issue. Fantasising about associations and pulling at random strings to validate biases is not going to get you to any actual truths. People died, people are scared, hackles are raised and everything is a target. No one could have seen this coming. You hear the rumours.. who or what attacked is something the Alliance will doubtlessly step up to deal with, in its own way; with or without help."

The flare of indignance faded. I idly tugged at the uncomfortable white collared shirt that made up part of the two piece smart-casual overwear and sat quietly.

"Are you with the Alliance?", her question carrying undertones of maliceless suspicion. "It's not an issue if you are.."

"No I'm not. Colony family."

She cast me a curious look. "Wouldn't have guessed that part." She sighed, "Alliance took me in after... I lost both parents, gunned down in cold blood outside our house, I hid till the marines pulled me out. Lost two other siblings who were dragged off to processing. That changes a fourteen year old. I regret a lot of what I put my foster family through. They were good people, spacers.. life was just very different."

"You resented the Alliance's inability to save them."

"Yes and no. Humanity should have been prepared, we knew of the dangers back then, like we do now." Her distant focus shifted to a frown. "Otherwise, what is the whole point of the fleets and the alliance if its ineffective at deterring such atrocities.

But.. now it's all happening again. I've spent my life chasing the discarded truths and inconvenient facts. All the signposts that are ignored. Throwing them at the feet of the institution who is supposed to protect us.. and of they don't listen-", she shrugged, "putting it out there to whoever will."

I watched her carefully. "Can the Alliance always be prepared for everything? Can anyone? Isn't that mere notion a fallacy?"

The blue eyes stared into me and blinked. "I'm just saying.. if the information and warnings are there.. if no one does anything.. doesn't that make you complicit?"

The eyes steeled to bottomless orbs for a second. I blinked, shaking away a thought.

"That feels like retrospection. Just because you have information it doesn't mean that the interpretation is there. Or correct. Or actionable. Context is king.. a random stone does not describe any bigger story than its own. Not without time, place and a hell of a lot more rocks.

Can anyone one know everything, be everywhere, do everything? That may be describing omniscience."

"How does this justify inaction? Humanity may have just lost something. Something important. I have eyewitness statements that a significant archeological find was made just before the attack."

I looked at her carefully, watching, interested but impassively. "You've been busy."

She lent in closer again before continuing almost conspiratorially.

"Geth." She whispered. "And I've got it on good authority! That whole mothership descended on the colony with an army of mechanical soldiers ready to murder anyone in their way."

"I don't see the connection.."

The pout was almost tangible. "Mad AI turning their attention to humanity.. just as we are forced into the Traverse to grow by the council.
The council is disregarding it, the Turians won't even acknowledge it and the Alliance is burying it. So, here's context; paradigm altering tech discovery stolen under our noses by an enemy we're refusing to acknowledge is even a threat!"

"I know of the Geth. But any sense of a motive is just conjecture. The Council races are unlikely to take the prospect with any enthusiasm.. you have to concede that they're probably terrified.

They were all there when arguably the most technologically advanced race was objectively wiped out. That's not a memory that is going to fade for them without a scar."

"Why would the council ignore a threat.. why would the Alliance? Humanity doesn't need another war tearing apart peaceful worlds because of power hungry jealousy."

I smiled softly. "Occlusion is part of the frustration, but don't let that colour your deductions. It is important to start with this not being Mindor. We're in the heart of Alliance space, the risk of any strike this deep is unbelievable to insane unless it is desperate. So, if there is any rational reason at all then it has to be for something that someone would risk everything for. But we can't pretend to know yet. That type of enemy is not one that is ready for an all out war and risking provoking one is down right stupid." I cocked my head to the side trying to read her contemplative expression. "You give the Alliance very reserved credit. Even the council is justifiably weary of directly antagonising the Alliance. Humanity is a wildcard that they just don't know or understand yet. Shanxi saw humans face down the Turians, nineteen years later the Baterians. The council reigned in the first, and pretty much ejected the second. Both not insignificant acts in the impact either had on the power and economic balances in the galaxy, in such a short time scale too.
From the outside, the Systems Alliance is terrifying in its potential and demonstrated capability. If anything, they don't want humanity not to be on their side. I would love to have been in the room when the ambassadors to the council reported back that barely two hundred years back Humans had only just made it as far as their moon."

"But we've stalled. The council would love to see humanity's spirit crushed and subjugated. And they're succeeding.. corporate buyouts,council dependencies, technology limitations and restrictions.."

"Explosive economic growth, colony expansions, unprecedented technological adaptation and integration… you're looking at this with some blinkers on." I sighed.

"Look.. these people are testament to that spirit you allude to. It's not missing, far from it. Sure anything has to redefine itsself when confronted with new information.. new facts.. especially when its been in isolation for so long.. but I think humanity is doing pretty well in carving out its place in the galaxy. You're risking looking at it with the wrong eyes.. the galaxy is connected in ways we're still discovering, and you can't just undo it."

"A collaborative civilization and galaxy works. Step away from all the politics, agendas, prejudices and greed.. and there still is the core truth that if everyone contributes then everyone is better off. That's how the civilian arms of the Alliance works. See those over there.. they get it. Whether they realise it or not. The instinct, the drive, to do something by enriching and protecting the collective is built into every single living species; not just humans. The real risks are in the subversion or fracturing of that collective instinct, especially under the guise of isolation or defence.
Any war is a detestable event. Mindor is no exception.. neither Elysium. Both were culminations of a lot of choices on both sides of the argument. It hurt, badly, but humanity answered and has evolved. Look past the System's Alliance as an organisation, glimpse it as the incarnation of the combined living spirit of humanity. Its not perfect, but it strives and learns. Like you, fighters and survivors imbue this collective with resolve and fortitude; living insight and experience, which unlike memory does more to enrich it.
This attack will change humanity, steer it, evolve it. The better and clearer the truth that surrounds it then the more apt the and effective the evolution.
Look at it this way. You're a journalist.. an investigative journalist; so what you set your mind on to bring fact or fiction to the fore either adds or subtracts from the core lessons within humanity's collective. Steering perspective and insight in the popular consciousness. You have an interesting role, but if you want the Alliance to represent you, you have to be part of it.
Expecting it to be able to preempt and solve all your problems is placing it on a pedestal and absolving yourself of any responsibility. Nothing that lives should ever be on there.. it's not greater or better, lesser or worse. It is you, if it is whole.
And, Yes.. of course this 'humanity' is a threat to other species. As theirs is to ours. It's not a conspiracy, it's an objective reality. Politics is about finding and arguing the reasons for effective symbiosis. But it does not benefit any to see the other subsumed, collapse or declawed. All that would breed is the rot of complacency and a superiority complex."

"Oh my god.. how long have you been thinking about this for? If I wasn't belted in I'd be half way through enlisting right now. Are you sure you aren't in Alliance PR?"

I snorted, "Ha. Clearly too long and in too much isolation. And, no. I'm a passenger, if anything."

"Anni Smith, Ms", she extended her hand.

I shook it, raising an eyebrow, "Pleased to meet you Ms-clearly-not-an-alias. William Karsen." I tapped the name and likeness on my key card, casting a glance to her datapad. "And I hope you didn't record any of that."

"Honest, introverted and observant." A wry smile passed over her lips. "And no.. tho I'm already regretting it.. damn ethics..", her amused gaze looked distant for a moment. "How long are you on Arcturus for?"

"Half an hour", I pulled out my pocketed bundle of flashforge tickets, "I've a direct connection onward to the Citadel."

"Hard tickets? What century are you from?", she smiled mockingly, "Antitech?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "You're assuming a lot."

She pulled her brunet ponytail back into order, "Seems you're all about choices, chances and change.. but thin on volunteering facts."

"Sounds about right.", I grinned.

Her omnitool appeared in her hand. She scrolled through a calendar and flash forged something that was shoved into my hand. "Apex, Thursday, 9pm." She smiled, I'll see you there.

The craft juddered as it landed. Two hard clunks reverberated through the hull as docking clamps locked into place. The cabin murmurs lifting several notches in the rise of general shuffling. The door slid open to a flurry of attendants, a few uniformed alliance officers pressing their way through the disembarking meleé to direct the flow.

The docking hall was a snaking horde of arrivals. Queues of people making their way to the lines of tired looking uniformed immgration officers staring blearily at holodisplays behind a double wall of armed security soldiers. I eyerolled internally at the theatre.

Anni disappeared through the crowd; beelining toward a distant waiting suit and clearly-not-armed tail at the edge of the hall. The three vanished through a side door almost unnoticed. I stared at it for a moment before the press edged me forward. The din of VI welcomers drowning out most surface thoughts amidst the chorused shouts of 'NEXT'.

One more flight. I pulled my suit straight and adjusted the lanyard. The crumpled paper in my hand drew my attention. I struggled to repress a scowl as I read the few words.

- Delta. Echo. November. Twenty. -

/ - - - - - /

_-== Widow Nebula : Council Citadel ==-_

/ - - - - - /

I hate the citadel.. no, not like that though.

It is a beautiful thing. A marvel. A.. the.. centerpiece of galactic civilisation. The pride and wonder of every species that inhabited it. But like everything of magnificent beauty: the less you know about it the more benign it felt. I remember staring at it in childlike wide eyed wonder the first time I saw it. A memory that is somehow drawn out again, each and every time since. Perhaps that is part of its intent, purpose and lure.

It was too perfect.

Merely being on it conjures up the weird juxtaposed feeling of being awed while simultaneously, and inexplicably, unnerved.

I'd avoided it for a long time. If I had my way I'd never set foot on the thing again. Easier to say than to commit to.

I pushed down the memories and tried to look at it with new eyes. Focusing on the idiot in front of me, arguing with a Turian C-Sec officer about the import of controlled substances.

I stepped forward to swipe my card at the next available terminal. The human officer waving me through as the indicator blinked green.

The Wards awaited.. one in particular.

Kithoi.

It'd taken a few hours to wander the maze of alleys off the more opulent bulevards. The night cycle was well set in now, letting the background hue of the widow nebula wash the streets. The combo of the dimmed oranging pools of the lightposts and the blue-purple was surreal. The abandoned lanes and streets hemmed in with deep shadows. Not empty shadows. The odd glint or hint of movement betrayed the presence of the more shady figures of the night world. Three of which had followed me for the last two blocks.

This area had seen better days. Almost all the storefronts had heavily graffitied barricades drawn over them. The few that weren't barred were clearly long abandoned, now just trashed black holes and silent places. Keepers should have been rebuilding this area by now.

unless…

I looked around.

Keepers tended to avoid active conflict zones for all but critical repairs.

The next alley should have been a link to the next block. I stepped around a pile of broken crates to turn into the alley as a dual tone growl loomed toward me from right. "Hey suit. Missed your turn?"

"Don't think so.", I said, stopping. "Just following my feet."

I could just make out two grey eyes in a dark carapace in the gloom.

"This isn't safe turf for a human.", he spat the last word, then seemed to think for a moment, reading off some internal script, "..especially without protection."

I raised an eyebrow. The doubtlessly young Turian stepped to within a pace away. They were never shy to try intimidation. Turian doctrine: press toward any advantage in a conflict. A discipline alone does not make you capable.. or honourable; so the self made outcasts of their society would lead you to conclude.

An arm was held slightly behind, making little effort to conceal the gripped pistol.

"And what would I need protection from, exactly?"

"Lots of.. disadvantaged.. in this district.. talons to grind because of your kind." The pistol snapped up. The dimming squeee of the charging weapon sank into the otherwise silence.

"Your.. credits, or your life.. or both.. if you're stu-"

I smacked the weapon aside. The jerked round humming over my shoulder to ping off somewhere in the darkness. I grabbed the Turian's arm, spun and pulled, pivoting the oddly light mass across my shoulder to slam his back into the ground.

Now upside down from my perspective, I lent over to look the disorientated Turian in the eye. His forearm still gripped in an uncomfortable twist.

"None of the above, if you please."

I glanced back. The noise had drawn attention. Hurrying footsteps were quickly closing in from behind.

The pistol came out of the unresisting grip. I inspected it before tossing it aside and sized up the metallic avian.

A casualty of the casteless gutter trash that came with any megatropolis.

"Ill fitting armour. Bad weapon discipline. Zero cc training. You're supposed to be at basic, not waggling a half working gutter pistol in people's faces."

I matched the returning blaze of indignance with a glare of my own. "I'm going to release you. Don't do something stupid. You're too young to die."

The Turian slowly scrambled up. Forgoing the offered hand. Shouts from the far end of the alley drawing his eye for a moment. A round pinged off a nearby stall's hard barrier. More following in quick succession in an open declaration of presence.

"You're dead, human..", A predatory grin crept across the Turian's face as he dropped to an emboldened stance.

The first clawed swipe was easily ducked. More rounds glancing off the walls failing to hammer home the lack of discerning fire. I pulled the next swipe into the alley and kicked off the wall, planting a foot square in the centre of the armour. The idiot careend backward into the gaping front of an empty shop with a crash.

I shook my head.. just stupid.

Two more Turian's appeared, rounding into the narrow alley with pstols drawn. Both bore a triple yellow stripe drawn on their left pauldrons.

"..where is he?"

"not here.."

A third sauntered into view. Stalking toward the broken storefront. "Hunt it down. Noone crosses the Claws on their claim."

"What about the initiate?"

"Fail. Useless squib. Never should have let him in.", movement and the glint of drawn steel caught in the little light. "Gut the human. I'll deal with the trash."

I sighed inwardly. Adjusting my grip on the narrow ledge a few metres above. A two piece suit was definitely not the right attire for this. Not much choice though… well.. choice, yes; conscionable was another matter.

The drop was enough to build a small amount of momentum. The driven force into the shoulders of the two goons rumpled them into the floor with barely a sigh each. I reflexively snatched one falling pistol out of the air and pulled the other from the floor as it slid. Dissipating the last of the energy in a forward roll. Two barrels locked onto the recovering surprise of the ringleader whose arm was already in mid throw. I flicked the left pistol away. The audible ting of metal on metal colliding in the air punctuated the diving skid as the Turian bolted to the side reaching back for his own holstered weapon, two rounds going off before he'd stopped; one pinging off a nearby wall.

I grabbed a fallen crate and tossed it toward him, buying me a fraction of a second distraction. The weapon jolted to expel one heavy round with a significant kickback. The Turian slumped. The crash of crates settled around the still figure. A trickle of blue running out from behind his head.

I inspected the dirty weapon. It had been poorly maintained and was in bad shape, but it sat comfortably in hand with a good heft.

A sound made me look up to the left. The young Turian shifted in the crush of the old shop stall, he was watching me with a combination of fear and shock. A few centimetres from his head the nasty looking three pronged blade still juddered where it had buried itself into the metalwork. His attention split between the blade and the gun in my hand.

"You thinking of doing something stupid again?"

The Turian's head shook.

"Good.", I stepped forward and pulled at my keycard with my left hand, a gauntlet shaping over the hand. "You'll live.. minor bruising, nothing broken."

I nodded toward the less than living Turian a few metres away. "What's this about?"

The Turian's mandibles chewed for a few seconds. "Initiation." He seemed to come to some conclusion, his shoulders visibly sinking. "I'm as good as dead now."

"Doesn't sound like a prospect you're too happy about.. it looks like the crowd that you're in with are quick to judge."

"I'm just a gutter rat.. what am I supposed to do?", his eyes looked panicked, " there's nothing' for me or the others. These backways are all we know. There's no care from the uppers since the Claws moved in and pushed the few with credits out. Now they'll just hunt us down."

"Get C-Sec in. This is your home. Gang's are their problem."

The Turian eye'd me for a moment. "I'm not that green. They're paid off.. the blue for this district's got a nice place in the Presidium and a cushy job. The p'tak couldn't care less unless it hits his comfort factor. Turians look after their own." He scowled and spat a curse. "The Claws run a good trade off the merchants for protection.. most people here are veterans; families and survivors of pointless wars.. still proud but forgotten and just trying to live a quiet life. ", his gaze drifted between the broken stores; some still sporting black streaks where fire had been. "A few tried to push back… it didn't do them any good."

"The lower ward districts that are this close to the Presidium must be a valuable area to control."

"-you name it, they can get it in."

I pulled out the blade and stared at it. Turian special forces… or memorabilia.. It was hard to tell. The turian didn't seem surprised by it. I drummed thoughtfully on the pistol before lowering it and stowing the blade.

The turian let out a breath I hadn't realized he was holding.

"Got a name?", I asked.

"Trib."

"Doesn't sound very Turian."

"Tribius.. but no one's called me that since my Da passed."

"You said there are others?"

"Eight of us.. Mar, Semmy, Reb, Tannic, Cas, Alita, Exi and Korg."

"Sound's busy… and you're all in this district?"

Trib shrugged. "It's home. Old Turian district. Most of us were orphaned when the Claws moved in and C-Sec vanished." He spat the name. "There never was a lot here. Used to be a lot more shops and people around. Food's gotten short, no one's giving handouts other than the soupkitchen. Everything costing credits is controlled by the gang.. it's all blamed on you humans; pushing into the other wards and cripping everyday Turians just trying to survive. I couldn't see it tho."

The complicated expression explained more than he was going to volunteer.

"So, you know this area, well?"

Trib nodded.

"I suspect you may be able to help me find something.. and-", I held out an open hand, "..in return, I will see if I can unpick this.. situation."

I stepped over the one dead Turian and made my way back over to the two other unconscious ones pulling off their omni-bands and dropping them into the still stunned hand of the young Turian before continuing down the long alley.

A few seconds later Trib appeared next to me. His mandibles still flexed in surprise. "Wait.. wait.. wait… You're looking for something… here? There's nothing down here that I don't know of.. this isn't a human district.. it's never been."

"What I'm looking for is hidden in plain sight." I pointed toward the end of the corridor where a solitary Keeper was skittering past on its never ending rounds.

Trib's eyes narrowed. "You don't want to mess with them. Bad things happen to a lot of people when you least expect it. Home, places and occasionally people just silently disappear.. no one is ever to blame."

I chuckled. "No. Not to interfere. Specifically I'm looking for where they aren't."

A Turian's derisive laugh is amplified by their tonality. "There's no where they aren't. Even here where they're avoiding."

"Okay.. try: where they never are. Think about it." I glanced at the still prone figures. "Ill be back tomorrow evening.. do you have a safe place?"

"I'll go home..." Trib's crest rose as he looked down for a moment. The omnitools still in one hand. "What about these? These guys carry a lot of creds."

"Find a use for them, I'm sure you know people in need", I looked around the general abandonment. "I'll be back tomorrow, around midnight."

"Midnight? The place will be crawling with them..", he gestured back down the alley. "The Claws don't take challenges lightly."

"Just lay low till then.. You know the community? Make sure they're safe and the streets are quiet. I'll see if I can give the Claws something else to think about."

/ - - - - - /

C-Sec was an ordered riot. The duty officers dully trying to placate an endless stream of disgruntled supplicants. Conducting it, or at lest revealing in the chaos was a Krogan. Massive even for his kind. The red skull plate dipping along to barks of guttoral laugher. The small flock of C-Sec officers trying to corral the beast were clearly only frustrating themselves.

"If you have issue with me.. then arrest me. Welp.."

"-carrying weapons in a civilian zone-"

"Got a licence-"

"-and ibstructing an officer in the line of duty is a postable office."

"I'm just standing here.. you can walk around-"

I had to smirk at the audacity of picking a fight in the middle of a police station.

"What're you staring at welp? Got something to say?"

I realised a little late that comment and beady red eyes were fixed on me. The stumping behemoth loomed closer with a trail of petty officers still nipping at its heels. It was then I noticed that almost everyone else was very pointedly making every effort not to look toward the Krogan.

"-causing a nuisance in a public space-"

I grinned, not breaking eye contact. "Egging for a fight?"

"What's it to you?"

"If you can lose the flies I'm game."

"Talking like that.. what's stopping me crushing your puny skull right here?"

"The fact you'd better be damn fast before I rip that pretty red bonnet off your head and shove it in your-"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE." A visibly fuming Turian officer stormed into the square, a trail of bedraggled officers in reluctant tow.

I turned to the simmering official. "A friendly debate on the merits of constructive social intercourse. I do apologize if the discourse was outwardly antagonising.. I'm sure this Krogan would prefer to continue this debate over a drink.. or nine."

The beady eyes never broke away, the scoul however shifted into a toothy grin in my peripheral vision. "Nine."

"All quite civil officer... I assure you-", I looked questioningly toward the Krogan.

"..you don't get to know my name.."

"-the good Krogan is following only what is culturally dutiable for the time and place."

"DON'T.. don't", the Turian awkwardly shifted mental gears, ".. don't make me have to come out here again."

I watched the train jerk back toward the inner halls of the station; occasional outbursts being directed toward the retreating swarm of attendants.

A shadow still fell to the side. The Krogan was looking between the distant door, the gaggle of officers working up the gaul to confront him again and me.

"That was fun.", I said. the remark came out etched with honesty.

"You gonna make good on that, Human?"

"Drinks? Sure. Winner gets to throw the first punch and the last fist."

"Ha. Deal." The Krogan snorted. "First I got a job.. then I'll floss with your entrails."

"Not if I get a new salad plate first.", I grinned.

"Big talk for a small creature. I look forward to killing you."

"You'll certainly try.." I smiled, "Good hunting."

I ignored the glare as I walked away. Making sure to sidle past the distressed officers and give them an obvious and encouraging nod and thumbs up before beelining for the offices corridor.

The office of Counter Culture and Organised Criminal Sociology had clearly been labeled by politicians. Four or so of the twenty desks visible through the glass wall were occupied by disinterested officers. Three of them were Turian, an Elcor near the rear sat on a chair that looked like it could have once been another desk.

"Would you like to register your civil organisation?" A Selerian sequestered at a narrow desk behind the door accosted me a few seconds after entering. "All civilian organisations must be registered and operate withing their declared bounds. If you are registered and wish to lodge a complaint please raise your concerns with your assigned duty officer or at your nearest station."

I stared at him and at the offered datapad, trying to mentally phrase the explosion of questions in the forefront of mind. "You 'manage' gangs?"

"Oh yes. Registered, zoned and tracked. Influence conflicts are easier to manage and supervise with prior arrangement with local street units. Unattributed civilian casualties are at a record low."

"And you know this.. how?"

"A requirement in the registration and articles of inception.. see section 14, required declarations, item 12. Incidental civilian injuries and fatalities must be catalogued by causality table 36b and lodged within 36 hours." He smiled birghtly.

"-And people do this?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't they? We take administration very seriously here at Citadel Security. Galaxy Gold Standard." He blinked proudly and grinned.

"Yes.. I see. Fantastic. You're clearly the someone that I was looking for. Would you be able to help me please?" I placed a convivial arm around his shoulder, "I would like to register my ga.. social organisation. It's a bit complicated… you know, disputes and so on."

The Selarians face lit up with eager pride. "Excellent! I will be more than happy to assist, you don't even need identification! You're the second registration this whole year! We understand the difficulties and risks involved with these voluntary programmes! We are here to help."

An hour later I wandered back out into the security plaza. The Krogan was gone, so too were most of the onlookers and idle queues.

I spotted the signage pointing toward the Presidium. The better dressed few ambling languidly along the transit corridor. I wandered toward the elevator, contemplating the minefield of what I'd just done..

Hopefully it would work out.

/ - - - - - /

_-== Council Citadel: Presidium ==-_

/ - - - - - /

The dimmed light of the Presidium was a little less inspiring than I remembered. At least it was cooler. The lower gravity left you with an odd spring in the step; partly why no one ever looked to be in a hurry. Running or stamping about was a good cause of most unsanctioned swims.

The night cycle stull had a few hours left. A fact that did little to deter a base level hum of activity. Even at this hour there were people wandering around. Business was an all day affair in a galaxy that never sleeps.

I wandered along the endless river passing a few dignified new arrivals who were cleary tired but still suitably wide eyed and gawping. A familiar name was printed on a register outside an expensively simple white multi-story facade.

Vol, Bindle & Associates - Professional Financial Services.

A chime dinged as I stepped in. A three seconds later a blue skinned goddess stepped into the reception area, A pile of datapads in her arm. The Asari tendency to dress strictly and formally while still exuding an air of sexuality was ubiquitous to the extent of being mundane.. they knew it, they used it. Couldn't fault them for it.

The Asari smiled as she took up station behind the polished wooden desk. "Good morning. Do you have an appointment?", the hint of a melodic accent underscoring her native tongue.

"No, but I have an account. I'd like to see Mr Vol, at his convenience."

She tapped at the console, her dark green eyes lingered a little longer on me than she thought I'd notice.

"I'm afraid that Mr Vol is out of office at present, Mr Bindle has an appointment slot available in two hours.. may I book that for you?"

Her questioning inflection clearly intimating the expectation for me prefering to see the human partner.

"No.", I gestured an Asari placative negative without thinking. "Please message Mr Vol and inform him of my interest."

"Mr?"

"Karsen, Keystone Trust. I'll be over at Café Azure."

The green eyes didn't leave me till the door slid closed behind.

It was a good thing the street was reasonably quiet at this time. I fiddled with my suit. Not out of nervousness.. moreso in trepidation.

Playing these cards was tantamount to revealing my full hand to anyone who could, or would, be watching.. which was a stupid thought. Anyone who actually knew me, or of me, was long dead more times over than I should care for.

But..

What was that saying.. once burnt, twice shy? How long did it hold for.

I was staring half through a statue.. one of a Krogan in a defiant yet heroic pose. A monument to unfinished things, half thoughts and knee jerk reactions. Anyone in a desparate situation in going to take questionable long term choices if forced. There was still a lot to play, there was a whole galaxy at work. I stared at the statue again..

So why did it feel like there was more at stake.. was it because of Earth? Humans? Because I had stopped, gone dark and just given up. I didn't want to believe I could be predjudiced. Maybe I'd been pretending what I wanted for too long and had started to believe it.

I shook my head to clear it.

Further across the freespace a flurry of movement caught my eye.

Humans trooping across the lower Presidium in full combat armour. Alliance.. who else. Also the only ones hurrying about with self importance in the quiet hours. The four seemed to be caught between sightseeing and actual purpose.

Surely it wouldn't be long now until the powers that be lost the last few reins on mainstream news. In a hyper connected galaxy the speed of light is only a passing inconvenience for information. The placid fountained silence of the surroundings carried the air of a tenuous calm.

The Cafe wasn't bad. It was secluded, quiet and offered a pime view into the Presidium major. The very human name turned out to be an adoption of the new and foreign by the overtly social Asari owner who appreciated the nuances of customers who wanted a quiet escape.

I scanned the menu for a third time.

"Anything you like? There's more off the menu if you're wanting something more familiar.", the Asari behind the bar polished an already spotless glass.

"How far off the menu?"

"Name it, hon. And if I can do it: you'll get it."

"Kei-lym tea, neat."

She started pulling out an Asari brewing pot. "You know.." the Asari started in mere conversational interest, "This is highly toxic for humans straight up." Her quiet tone making no effort to question the request.

I simply nodded and set out tapping a long credit code into the small terminal keypad.

The terminal bleeped.

"I'll bring it right over.", she smiled.

The table overlooked the balcony. A few others were occupied but quietly isolated by lush and strategicly placed planters. The owner deposited the glass tea pot and poured a narrow flask like mug full before disappearing back behind the bar. I picked up the glass, tipping it to savour the smell. Oceans, fire and sweet. The stuff was almost black, a few light blue lines swirled between the odd crimson fleck. I stared out over the endless sky and took a swig.

"They say that the savor is better only with time and patience to appreciate it.".

I turned to find the voice.

An Asari. Seated on the other side of a planter and back from the balcony continued scrolling through a datapad as she picked up and sipped a much more benign drink.

I stayed standing, turning back to lean on the rail and enjoy the view. "They're not wrong." I took another sip.

"You do know you're going to be dead in two hours?"

"I find those sorts of predictions are overrated."

"I'm curious.", a click on the table indicating she'd put down the data pad. "What does a human care for tastes and time?"

I swirled the last in the glass. A ribbon of eezo curling in the vortex. "Eventually everything can be appreciated for its tenure.. very few things are truly persistent; from the oceans where nearly all life begins to the all consuming fires of stars, existence is bitter..", I turned to face her, raising the glass open acknowledegment and swallowing the morsel, ".. living is sweet."

"Interesting. I wonder if you understand the irony.", her omnitool beeped, two robed Asari entered the cafe and approached her. One whispering quickly into her ear, the only word I could discern was 'council'. She waved them back. "Please excuse me, my duty requires me. I wish you a good death."

I nodded and raised the empty glass. "Till next time."

I'd just poured another cup when a metallic cough next to me brought my attention down from the retreating Asari and her entourage.

"Excuse my interruption of your morning tea- " ..kshhhhk.. "I'm Cara Vol of Vol and Bindle Associates?" ..kshhhk.. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Karsen." ..kshhhhk.. "I've not had any direct interaction other than through your proxy.." ..kshhhhk.. "When Maiel sent me the message this morning I simply had to" .. kshhhkk.. "meet the name in person."

"Thank you for coming."

kshhhhk… "It's not often that any of our largest.. most diversified clients" ..kssshhhk.. " directly attends any of our offices." ..kshhhk.. "Blindle has had your family's trust in their accounts for only a few decades."..kssshhhk.. "The leverage of the trust is directly attributed to our success in the galactic market place. Its mandate has been quite " ..kssshhhhk.. "challencing and profitable to pursue."

"I can count on your continued.. discretion?"

Kssshk.. "Of course."

"Good. I would like a portfolio breakdown across galactic interests.. technology holdings, fabrication, construction, shipyards, mining, research… everything."

The volus wobbled for a moment. "That.." ..ksshhhk.. "may take a little while to-" ..kssshhkk.. "compile.. Are you sure you require such a comprehensive report?"

"Discretion, my friend."

"Of course.. of course..", the volus waved his stubby arms placatively, "I will personally have it ready for you in.. " ..Kssshhk.. "four weeks."

He tapped a few buttons on his omnitool. "Possibly a month." ..kssshhhk.. "The security and manpower on this will be extensive but of no concern,"

"This is important. Please use the channels hereafter."

..kssshhhk.. "Understood."

"Thank you."

The Volus nodded clumsily and tottered off, apparently happy at the mammoth and burdensome accounting task. They were nothing if not adept at complex financial constructs.. this one was definitely going to be interesting to catch up on. I never expected to exercise it, but was quietly glad that there were some strings I could indirectly pull on.

Or at the very least play influencer toward.

Getting back in touch was a first step in reforging ties. Hopefully there was still time. The citadel was still standing and I wasn't being chased across star systems, those were big pluses.

I made another pull on the drink and downed the last drop of the heavy liquid. The welcomingly warm lightheaded tingle of eezo made me feel a little more confident than I would otherwise.

I looked back over the balcony.

The small Alliance troop was back. Now breaking away from the odd relay monument and heading for the tower elevator. One of the marines was staring my way when a white and pink armoured arm pulled it along with some protest. I watched the elevator rise at its snails pace up the tower.

I had no doubt that the Alliance was going to make its play soon. My only concern was whether that would make life easier or a lot more complicated.

But first…

/ - - - - - /

Diving into the Presidium lakes was forbidden.

Not just because it was presumed to be part of the potable water management network, but also because the labyrinth of tubes and tunnels beneath were an unscannable and unnavigable deathtrap.

Unfortunately it was also where I needed to go.
Certainly not where I wanted to go.
But it was probably one of the most secret places, hidden in plain sight. Almost guaranteed to kill most people and arguably useless beyond its critical, yet mundane, function.
The longer I thought about it the more obvious it was. I had to know.

I'd heard the first gasps behind a little after I'd climbed over the balcony and walked out over a roof top. No one was stupid enough to actually jump.. not from this distance.

Thankfully gravity, or lack thereof, combined with a little liquid courage, and a lot of restraint, kept the parabolic arc ordered and tame.

I aimed for the deep water. Feeling the liquid envelop me in a splashless landing.

The centre of the lake was dotted with deepening funnels. Some were inlets, others, like this one, flowed out. And downward.

The light darkened then vanished.

The current increasing as the tube narrowed and rounded several long arching curves. I relaxed, letting the flow pull me along, ignoring the increasing internal tug for breath.

Minutes.

The flow still quickened.

The occasional bump became more frequent as the pressure almost constantly grew.

A few more seconds.. I told myself, forcibly ignoring the burgeoning perceptual eternity.

I could feel my lungs beginning to shift from strain to a burn. Every molecule of oxygen slowly being sapped out of me.

The dark kept coming.

A dull roar within the water getting louder.

I strained against the desperate reflex. A last few bubbles escaping into the torrent as flashes of light sparked around my vision.

The flow forcing unrelentingly onward.

Until.

Until…

The pressure vanished.

The world roared and fell out from beneath me. Eyes closed, anticipation dragging the milliseconds out, the world exploded around me in a ripping pulse with the ramming impact rising from below.

/ - - - - - /