Emiya sighed quietly.

They were all seated now as all the plates and pots had been well polished off and set aside to clear the table. With each woman opposite him having sated themselves and settled down for the main course of the meeting as it were, it was time for the talks to begin.

Only Benezia and Shepard remained in the room with him, Shiala having left after a subtle gesture from the elder earlier. Whether her intent was to remain discreet, or to only allow him to notice for whatever reason, he didn't know. Regardless, he still took note as the commando left the room, joining the six others standing within a stone's throw of Benezia's quarters. He would like to think that he was just overthinking everything, but the fact was that this was how the Matriarchs fought their battles.

With minute gestures, veiled smiles, and open arms. With subtleties too small for all but the subconscious to notice, piling perceptions and paradigms around which the conscious mind would be forced to run ragged around.

He took a sip of water from the glass before him, as much to wet his throat as to keep himself from frowning, as he consciously kept himself from crossing his arms. He didn't want to close off his body language, even if the old belligerent comments brewed just below the surface at a simmer. Overt gestures will only be thrown right back at me; close off and remain as blank as possible.

His last meeting with Benezia was still in his mind. She had easily led him around by the nose, not giving him a single chance to regain his balance. This time he had come slightly better prepared, but he had no idea whether it would be enough. But he would just have to try.

Especially since Shepard had set this whole thing up. Having shaken hands on it, he felt the need to go through in more than just the motions, now.

Cooking had helped distract himself and relax a little before it had begun, which was why he had jumped at the opportunity to do so—on top of it being message back to the Matriarch, saying that this time would not go the same as the last. It helped him shift gears to a less confrontational but still confident tack, which should help. But ultimately this was still an extremely fluid situation. It could still so very easily go anywhere from here.

"So, how about you start?" Shepard began as she looked at him, glancing at Benezia immediately after.

She was passing the ball to his court; giving him the opening, putting the onus on Benezia to give it away; to let him define the discussion at the root. Did she do it without too much thought behind it as a mere icebreaker, or was it a calculated move to ease him into this situation? She already knew he wasn't the most open of people—had to be fully aware of her own unique position in that regard, that he was unusually prone to answering her questions.

Emiya grimaced, only now really giving that fact—which he had stubbornly tried to avoid thinking about—conscious thought for the first time.

That he was unusually soft on Shepard.

Her face scrunched up at his expression, thinking that it was a reaction at her suggestion when it was aimed at himself more than anyone else. Try as he might, he couldn't deny that Shepard was a great, big lever to him. And the wily asari elder had said that she knew as much, already.

"But of course. Please," she said, politely acquiescing.

Blackmail material, he thought anew, reminding himself.

Which meant he had to think through what he said here. Every word would be weighed and judged. Benezia was a Matriarch; a respected asari elder with great political and social power, standing preeminent even among the ranks of Matriarchs. If he was pulled in too deep into her sphere of influence he had little doubt that he would sooner or later be trapped. Even he had his handles. Especially he. And this political animal before him would undoubtedly find all the buttons to press to make him dance to her tune once she figured him out.

Benezia must have already realized that she had minimal chances in a direct confrontation, even with all who lay subordinate to her. Which was why he had been so flippantly confident with her, why he had been hoping to keep it like that. As long as it remained strictly hostile, that disparity in their powers would not change.

Which was also why she would not remain content to keep it as such, he intuited.

The first time they had met, he had taken out a batarian spec-ops starship with apparent ease, despite never having so much as engaged with them directly. He even had a relatively reliable and trustworthy eye-witness in the form of Hoana who would swear that he had never left her side. Yet something must have taken out the batarians and only he had been present at the time.

Which on its own it wouldn't have been enough.

But following Thessia, and now Torfan? And him having infiltrated her cruiser with such ease? So she must already know that Dretirop had been his work. Know that there was no meaning in trying to directly oppose him.

Which meant she wouldn't. And that made him nervous.

He thought back to Baliya, feeling a pang of something as he did, remembering Henell's words distantly. He had approached the Curator for a multitude of reasons—one among many having been her status as a Matriarch, and one that was known to be among the least sociable. He figured that if he wanted to figure out how shrewd and sagacious an asari elder truly was, then he would be best served trying it out with someone who engaged in as few social games and political jockeying as possible. Someone who did not go out of their way to master the skills of manipulation and social subterfuge that their race was so well known for.

Baliya Haphia had practically been a hermit; perfect in that regard.

And yet he was certain that the lazy and absent-minded professor had been able to see through him, clear as glass within days of their first meeting. If Baliya who spoke with less than a dozen people on an average month could do that in days...

What could Matriarch Benezia do?

Emiya wasn't sure how much of her spiel regarding some mysterious individual she had been trying to court he believed. But for now, he would play along. Especially since Shepard had already intervened and injected herself into this mess. Flipping the board and throwing the rules aside only worked when you didn't care about what lay on that table. On what might be broken in the aftermath.

He needed to focus; as much for his own sake as for Shepard's.

For starters unlike before, he might not be able to brush off certain questions, given that he was seated with not just one but two women who could talk circles around him. I've been in cross-fire ambushes less dire than this...

Shepard was the core of the problem, he knew. Not knowing how to act around her, she kept getting past his expectations and he just couldn't bring himself to brusquely brush her off. He needed to stop letting himself get caught up in her pace. I lower my guard around her far too easily...

"To be honest," he finally began, with a shrug at the silence that had seemed to stretch a tad bit long. "I don't even know where to begin."

There was simply too much going on.

He barely had a handle on it himself, and now they wanted him to explain everything? Oh, certainly only the desire to share information regarding the situation with Henell had been verbalized. But he could see the hunger in their eyes; see the gears turning as they both considered how to pull more out of him. Of the two, he wasn't sure who he worried more about right now.

Emiya almost sighed again at just the thought.

"I believe that in such matters, the beginning is often the best place to start at," Benezia advised, and he had to snort. "If for no other reason then to help you speak matters in order for our clarity's sake."

He scoffed, crossing his arms as he shook his head. Right, four and a half billion years ago the Moon Cell came into existence and then...

"No, that would just take too long," he said instead with another shake of his head. "So let's just keep it simple. At the conclusion of my time in the Systems Alliance Navy, I was posted on Mars for further training. To make a long story short, I headed for the south pole and made for the Prothean ruins there. Having looked around at the known ruins for a while, I realized that it was not what I had been looking for, and looked deeper. Which is how I found the second ruins, buried far beneath the much more well-known ruins that had already been found."

Both Benezia and Shepard paused at that, if for entirely different reasons. He could see the various questions in their eyes, buzzing about and struggling to escape through their lips.

"You discovered a Prothean ruin, all by yourself?"

"Wait, wait... You found the ruin in one day?"

The Matriarch had been intent on drilling Emiya for further details, only to pause and glance at Shepard again, before staring at him with obvious disbelief. "A mere day...?"

She licked her lips, as he shrugged.

"I've a knack for getting into places I'm not supposed to," he said with some amusement. "I thought that had already been established."

He had managed to sneak past the Alliance invasion and onboard the Dreyn N'var without too much trouble, hadn't he? Of course, that had mostly been due to the cloaking belt he had pilfered from the salarians. He still hadn't figured any reliable means of countering that, even with a belt of his own to mess around with.

"So, then you..."

"But how did—"

They obviously wanted to continue questioning him, but he pushed on. Forging ahead resolutely, he spoke over them. "Anyhow. I poked around for a while, and I explored until I hit the bottom. Any guesses as to what I found there?"

Shepard blinked, leaning back with a thoughtful look as she gave it serious thought, the previous questions already filed away for a later time. But it appeared that Benezia was quite well-informed, as she quickly replied. "The Prothean firearm that was analyzed in Serrice, which you have since recovered."

He blinked, considering for a moment that last bit she had asked. Was she trying to confirm something? Looking inwardly, he realized that he had in fact dispelled the gun, noting the lack of any extant instances. When did I do that...? He knew he had left it behind, but somewhere during that hectic day it must have been unraveled. Hmm, probably an effect of my spiritual core being destabilized.

It didn't matter, thus he nodded as he continued. "That, and a room full of long-dead yet remarkably well-preserved Protheans. Or what I think are Protheans, anyhow."

Benezia's eyes widened and for a moment she seemed to have gone utterly still, before she shook herself and lowered her gaze. A dozen thoughts running through her mind, as she tried to parse the things she could bring herself to believe in all that he had said just now.

Well, it didn't particularly matter, since Shepard seemed to believe him.

"And you didn't think to tell anyone about this...?" Shepard questioned, exasperation apparent as she leaned back.

"I've told a few people since. But, well... That's what I had joined the University of Serrice for; to meet with Nirida Henell, So that I could ask someone who might know what it was all about, and what to do about it. Besides, at the moment I had other problems to deal with."

"Right... 'brain problems'," she said while rolling her eyes, causing the Matriarch next to her to look at them with clear confusion.

The STG has kept a tight grip on that information if she wasn't aware of my operation, huh. But wait... Miranda knew? How come the Matriarch was not aware of the matter if Miranda did? That human supremacist organization had access to that information, when the Matriarchs who were far less antagonistic towards the Citadel did not? Were the salarians hiding the matter from their own allies?

Focus. Worry about the salarians some other time.

Speaking as much to himself as to the others, he continued. "The important part is this; they had locked themselves in there. In the deepest, most tightly-locked hole in the ground they could make."

Benezia frowned, her eyes locking onto him again.

"Locked themselves in? What do you mean?"

"The doors on that chamber could have taken a hundred shots from any mass accelerator you could have possibly dragged all the way down there. They had no intention of letting anyone in," he clarified and then added with emphasis, "or out of there."

"Like those asari we've now thrown in the brig? You think someone locked them up?" Shepard asked, brows furrowed.

"Maybe. But I don't think so. There were no obvious restraints on any of them, and they were all seated on the ground in large circles. Besides, it was locked from the inside. Also... they had all shot themselves in the head. That's where I got the gun."

That left the two sitting opposite him in a state of silent shock.

"That is... Certainly unusual... But, I do not quite understand how it relates to what has happened here at Torfan." Benezia pursed her lips, drawing a tight line.

He glanced at her, noting that he was getting there with his eyes. "During the Alliance invasion, three batarians who had been patrolling were left stranded down at the lowest levels of the compound, when the elevator ceased functioning. They were only discovered hours later when an Alliance investigation team stumbled down on their corpses; they had turned on each other and killed themselves." He paused again, inhaling slowly to let them have some time to consider what he had said. "That place was where the Dretirop contingent had been working, during their captivity here. They had been down there, every day, for hours on end."

"...Oh." Benezia voiced her horrified surprise, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Meanwhile, Shepard was frowning.

"Additionally... There's a... gut feeling I have about those two places. They're somehow related, even if I can't quite place the connection."

He didn't know how to explain something he didn't know himself completely either. He was fairly certain that it was not strictly mundane, but nothing he really knew of in mystical seemed to match.

Twisted, spreading shadows and ancient malice, was all he could call it for now.

"...I see," Benezia replied with a considering nod even though she still appeared somewhat skeptical.

"Did they lock themselves in to protect themselves on Mars, only to turn on each other like those three batarians, if they shot each other?"

Emiya shook his head at Shepard's question. "No, that probably wasn't it. It seemed too..."

He struggled for words, frowning and looking away as he recalled that chamber on Mars. Sitting in concentric, regular rings, all facing inwards, hundreds of Protheans. They had seemed at peace. Serene. Accepting of their end, somehow. Yet... Valiant. Adamant. Victorious in death.

"No, I think they did it themselves before it happened. On purpose. I think they knew about whatever it was that affected those batarians—and professor Henell and her colleagues—and decided to end things on their own terms before it came to that."

That seemed in line with what he remembered.

Perhaps it was time to re-visit the Prothean gun again and see if he could piece together that jumbled mess better now? Not that his grasp of the Prothean logos had particularly improved since. He looked up and took in their reactions.

Benezia had gone very silent, all of a sudden. She knows something, he realized. Clearing her throat as she noticed his looking, the Matriarch spoke up.

"Do you know when this event—this, mass suicide—took place?"

A lone eyebrow rose at this question. It was why he had handed over the Prothean gun to Baliya and Liara, so of course he didn't know. But she knew. She must know if Henell had been already informed of it. It was likely it had been Benezia who had told Henell, even. It's related to what Henell said, about how that information was enough to utterly ruin Baliya.

But now she was probing whether he knew. Why? Did she suspect he had done it on purpose, to undermine Baliya, or even... No matter. Turn it back around.

"No. But your daughter would know. She was there after all, wasn't she?"

"Daughter...?" Shepard blinked, turning to stare at Benezia as pieces began to fall in place in her head. He had to internally wince at the look in her eyes; no doubt it was in all the wrong ways, but falling into place nonetheless.

"...She was, yes," Benezia said, lips tight as she stared at him. Considering. Weighing. Had he set her up for whatever it was that Henell had talked about? She must have wondered, given his reputation. It wasn't as if he hadn't ruined hundreds of people over the years in his guise as Redhax.

But he had no reassurances or denials to give her.

"So I'm guessing they found something they shouldn't have, huh. Let's hear it, then."

If she was annoyed by his attitude, it did not show as she cleared her throat and glanced at Shepard. "...Very well. It is somewhat a difficult matter to discuss, given certain more... delicate aspects of asari culture. But I am certain that neither of you two will needlessly spread what is spoken at this table, yes?"

It was phrased as a request, but the edge underlining her words was obvious to both.

Shepard frowned, glancing at Emiya who kept strong poker-face to hide the fact that he had no idea what Benezia was talking about. But he supposed he was about to find out why Liara had originally reacted so violently to his thoughts, back on Thessia.

"No promises," he said with finality as Shepard nodded in agreement.

If she chose to refuse here, then while all discussion wouldn't come to a crashing close it would mean that the burgeoning trust between them would end here. He had already shared quite a bit, having given the asari a strong lead to follow, and he could well argue that he had upheld his side of the bargain, far more than he would have been normally willing to divulge. So much so, that he had no intention of agreeing to any terms. Of course, if she could accept his refusal to any conditions, then they certainly still had much to discuss.

Emiya was certain that the wily old woman before him could read him that well. Better to be too cautious and risk offense, than get myself ensnared into something troublesome.

"...Well, that is fine. It is a secret you have already begun to become aware of—more or less. I am certain it would only be a matter of time regardless," she said with a shrug, before continuing. "What do you know of Ardat Yakshi?"

"Ardat Yakshi?" Shepard repeated the strange word, frowning as her translator failed to interpret it at all. "What's that?"

Emiya's eyes narrowed, as he recalled that word. The Justicar in the Museum of Serrice had spoken it and in the aftermath he had looked it up. It had taken some time, but he had managed to roughly translate the old asari dialect and concluded it to mean 'demon of the night winds'.

And there had been one other word, one he had only managed to find after poring over every asari text he could get his hands on relevant to the first words' results.

"Kshirae, is it...?"

Stemming from the same root as the 'night wind' in Ardat Yakshi, the state of kshirae was to be enthralled, ensorcelled and enamored with something to the exclusion of everything else. To be 'lunatically in love with the night winds' in a sense. At times a manic love that transcended all, at others a state of rampant, murderous insanity. It was a common plot device in asari literature and theater until some two thousand years ago, but had since been effectively phased out of their culture, both as a term and as a concept.

The only instance of the word he had found in digital storage had been in a dry text discussing ancient asari culture and storytelling, having had to check through library records to find scanned pages of the actual old manuscripts for reference separately.

"...You are certainly knowledgeable," Benezia bemoaned with a sigh before she continued, "it would seem that I was right after all, to take you into my confidence in this matter."

"Huh? What now?"

Emiya turned to Shepard, raising a lone hand in a gesture to quiet her down so he could explain. "Ardat Yakshi are asari boogeymen, to put it simply. Think something like a malevolent succubus-vampire, from human popular culture."

"Oh," she blinked, before frowning. "Oh. But they're real...?" He nodded. "And they can control people?" He nodded again. "...And you've already run into one, huh...?"

Somehow he felt worried about nodding carelessly to that last part, given the measuring look he was receiving. So he looked away and cleared his throat instead. "I may have run into someone like that, but it wasn't anything on the level that some of the myths would suggest. It seems more like a difficult genetic condition than anything else. Much like erythropoietic protoporphyria may have once led people to believe in the existence of sun-fearing undead monsters in the night."

Or well, attempt to rationalize them away, after the fact.

Dead Apostles and various monsters still had roamed the nights in his time, even as mystery had long been waning from his world, though in this timeline he hadn't seen any signs of such creatures existing. At least, not anymore. Similarly, it was of course entirely possible that once upon a time, the Ardat Yakshi had been everything the legends and folklore had made them out to be, just as once upon a time on Earth great monsters and heroes had walked the land.

"Tyra T'Sanis, yes. She is particularly strongly affected by that condition, but not enough to truly be called an Ardat Yakshi," Benezia continued, smiling just a little at their byplay. "Or so we have held for two thousand years. For millennia, we have held to a definition of a 'true' Ardat Yakshi, and by that strict definition there exist only three cases today."

Emiya narrowed his eyes. If they know that much, then how much a threat could they be?

Even he could only do so much alone. Unless...

"Just three?" Shepard questioned, obviously having similar doubts.

The Matriarch looked at Shepard and said, "You are right in that regard. Irrespective of how powerful an individual is, if they work alone then they can only accomplish so much." Somehow even though she wasn't looking at him, he felt like she was singling him out there. "Especially since two of the three I mentioned remain under constant watch in exile, and are of no harm to the galaxy."

"So... Why? What is the problem?"

"Yes, well. I shall continue," Benezia nodded, not arguing as she had not quite finished yet. "It ties into a set of particularly pernicious beliefs that still remain among some asari. The belief in a time when asari and Prothean walked alongside each other, long ago."

"Ah. The seventh age." Emiya nodded. Suddenly the tension inherent in the subject started to become clear to him. Why Liara, Baliya and Henell had all reacted they ways they had. Noticing the confusion on Shepard's face, he turned to give a quick explanation for her benefit. "Mainstream archaeology states that all Protheans vanished fifty thousand years ago, with all physical evidence until now supporting that. But some hold that remnants of the Protheans still remained after that point, for thousands of years even. It's a rarely—if very hotly—debated topic, and heavily frowned upon in the official circles."

The soldier nodded, not entirely sure she understood why it would matter, but keeping her mouth shut and listening quietly regardless.

"Yes, that is right. The seventh age has long been held up as a... beacon of sorts, for certain ideologies and beliefs. Some of these... tales hold the Protheans as gods to the asari; protectors and teachers, who mysteriously disappeared. Others hold that the Protheans upraised the fledgling asari and made them into demons and gods among other races. That asari were made to serve the Protheans directly, as warriors, advisers and even lovers. And... that the Prothean disappearance was caused by those asari in an uprising or internal schism."

Emiya blinked; all of this was news to him.

But if the tales of what kshirae could do were true, then perhaps those ideas were not so outlandish as it might have initially seemed. The crux of the matter was...

"So can an Ardat Yakshi kshirae someone into doing things like that? To kill each other and themselves?" He asked.

"...Yes."

He inhaled slowly, raising a hand to rub his brow. Great...

Mind control, hypnosis, geas and methods of coercion magical and mundane. He had had some experience with things like that both in life and after death, meaning that he didn't find the idea quite so outrageous as Shepard seemed to.

But knowing that there was someone running around with the ability to mind control people with such ease and potency was disquieting to say the least. At least in his time, there had been institutions that sought to control and curb such events—incidentally if for no other reason—protecting innocent bystanders. What was that about the Ardat Yakshi being alone...? With this, can't someone like that have entire armies on her side?

"Well, at least that narrows the suspect down to just one then," Shepard concluded.

He frowned, but it was Benezia who answered.

"No; I suspect something has changed. He—Mister A—I believe would not be so drawn to action if it were merely a lone Ardat Yakshi. I believe there is something more at work. After all... Nirida Henell is very nearly an Ardat Yakshi herself as well," Benezia said, with heavy intent seeping into her words.

Shepard blinked. "You think the professor you both came looking to rescue was the one behind all of this?"

He and the Matriarch both considered that.

"There is a precedent for it. After parting ways with Mister A I investigated a few leads into his past, an there was a similar event." Benezia paused, turning to regard Emiya directly. "You spoke of an object that was on Torfan, as such am I correct in assuming that professor Henell lost herself only after you mentioned it?"

He nodded.

That had seemed to be the trigger.

The Matriarch sighed and nodded as well. "Based on what I was able to gather of the event in Mister A's past, I believe that we are dealing with a relic of some kind, that acts similarly to an Ardat Yakshi, or is perhaps able to awake latent potential in those asari who are afflicted by the condition."

Emiya inhaled, considering it.

There just wasn't enough information. They would need to find the object or then manage to communicate with one of the affected asari if they wanted to find out more.

Focusing on the comms during the lull in the conversation, he belatedly realized that it seemed as if there had been some kind of trouble down at the installation as well. Some of the batarian prisoners had been getting rowdy, but the situation had been contained by the Alliance personnel without too much trouble since they were already being held prisoner.

"What about the records down on Torfan? Didn't you manage to recover most of their computers?" Shepard asked. "If they were digging there, they must have kept some records right?"

He looked up, broken out of his thoughts and meeting eyes with Shepard. "There wasn't anything really useful there. Everything was being kept separate, on a pretty strict need to know-basis. Much like the personnel handling the captives and mining operation didn't know that the whole operation was funded by Khar'shan, neither did the command center personnel know that—"

"Wait a minute!" Shepard shouted, standing up so quickly that the chair shot from beneath her. "Khar'shan?! You're saying this whole operation was under the Batarian Hegemony's orders?"

He looked at her, blinking twice. "Yes?"

"Do you have, you have proof, right? You're not just saying that off of a gut-feeling, right?" She pressed.

Frowning, he nodded. Well, there wasn't anything per se here that would incriminate Khar'shan, but the credits from the starship on Dretirop had undoubtedly come from the batarian homeworld. He had checked some of the other funds on the base, and he had been able to find more of the same cash trails that matched up to the ones he had already identified.

A few credits were one thing, but when they were receiving millions of credits every month from Khar'shan?

"Obviously."

"Emiya, we've been trying to find proof for, for years now! Where did you—" Shepard paused, finally realizing in whose company they were right now.

Benezia smiled lightly, inclining her head sideways a little as if indicating that she had heard nothing or at the very least understood little of what she might have heard just now.

Shepard pulled back the chair, sitting down as she cleared her throat. "We'll talk about this later."

He didn't nod, but he figured he could at least hear her out later.

"There is one more thing... What was that they were saying? Henell and the others, I mean... Something about a cycle?" Benezia asked, breaking the silence that had just begun to stretch out.

"Hmm?" Emiya frowned. He hadn't given the apparent nonsense much thought. After all... "It could mean anything. Or nothing at all."

Without context it was worthless.

"What if we just ask one of them?" Shepard suggested.

"Awakening one or two of them should not be a problem, but I am not certain we will be able to question them much at all. Not unless you have something in mind?" Benezia asked, seeing the same issue he had.

Shepard had to shake her head, admitting that she had no ideas.

"How about melding with one of them, instead?" Emiya considered out aloud.

The asari's expression turned difficult, as she considered the proposition. "It would be... Unlikely to result in any answers, and it would be..."

"Right. Forget I said anything," he said with a nod.

Melding with a possible Ardat Yakshi would not be a good idea. Additionally, if his experience with Tyra was the norm, then it would be difficult to get anything beyond surface thoughts and experiences out of an unwilling participant.

"Then it would appear we are at something of an impasse. Perhaps it is best we table the discussion for now, until a later time?" Benezia turned to look at him. "Thank you for the food and for sitting down and discussing this with me."

Emiya nodded, slightly surprised that she would be willing to leave it at just this. Well, she must have other leads of her own.

"Lieutenant Shepard, could I ask for one last favor of you? I understand of course that it would be something of an imposition, but..."

The woman being addressed blinked, realizing that suddenly she was the center of attention in this conversation. "Go on...?"

Emiya's narrowed, as he suddenly realized something about Benezia; she had already seen through Shepard.

"This incident is quite delicate, you understand. While we are thankful for your assistance, both in locating our missing people and in helping contain everything that occurred aboard my ship... I would hope that you will not inform the Alliance of this. To protect professor Nirida Henell's reputation?"

Benezia knows what makes Shepard tick already; she's seemingly putting herself in Shepard's debt, playing on that feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment. Topping from the bottom to reverse the dynamics.

"I..."

"No," Emiya interjected. "There are batarians on Torfan, who were also affected though they were taken down with much less of a fight. This is already an Alliance problem."

Both of the women blinked at him, no doubt taken aback by his blunt refusal for Shepard, as well as what he had just revealed. It was necessary since he still had no idea what to really make of Benezia. At the very least however, he had no intention of letting her get a grasp on Shepard that easily.

"...Yeah, sorry but I don't think I can let this go if it's already an Alliance problem," Shepard said, agreeing with him but appearing none too pleased about his speaking for her like that.

"Of course. I apologize for asking something like that without considering your situation with the proper care it deserved." Benezia recovered quickly, smiling politely and hoping to wave away any awkwardness that might have sprouted from the request.

Hmm, so she hopes to make this into a long term investment then? Turning down short-term gain for long-term benefits, it appeared that Benezia had plans for Shepard and himself.

Well, that could wait.

"It seems like that last asari was finally found," he said and they both turned to look at him. "It seems like she's snapped out of it and was found by your subordinates."

Benezia perked up at that, brows furrowed and obviously alarmed.

"Don't worry; they're taking the proper precautions. She's being moved to the brig under careful watch. It's not like any of them particularly believe her." He shrugged, getting up.

"But, well... Since it would appear that speaking has become possible perhaps it would be time to try asking, just as Shepard suggested?"

Emiya blinked, turning to look at Shepard. They shrugged and moved to follow after Benezia.

;

Y'lana scowled at the cowering Matriarch who had stopped, turning around to look at her with quivering eyes.

"Keep moving. The brig is just up ahead."

"I—

"Shut up."

The Matriarch—a professor from Usaru, if Y'lana remembered correctly—had never seen any combat, having sat behind a desk her whole like. Thus, it was no wonder the harsh words were enough to make her flinch.

But the commandos cared little.

Orders were orders, and not more than a handful of minutes ago this cowering Matriarch had been a hostile combatant. Or rather, a sleeper saboteur. What guarantees did they have that all of this was not merely another ploy to make them lower their guards?

"Move," another said as she shoved the professor forward.

The Matriarch stumbled, a hand reaching out to the wall for support as she hastened to keep ahead of the three commandos behind her. Being guided to the brig, she kept her eyes low and her mouth shut.

As the door to the holding cell of the brig was opened, she looked up and swallowed. Hesitating with fear, apprehension and confusion all apparent on her face, the professor looked at all of them and then back to the cell.

"I—I... Where are, where is professor Henell...! What have you done to professor Henell!"

Y'lana ignored her, turning to regard the asari on watch. "Where did you put the sedatives? We need to put her down before she tries something."

"We used most of it already for the others, but I sent someone to go get some more from the doctors."

"Right," Y'lana replied with a frown, turning to look at the professor. "Which means we'll have to keep an eye on her."

"We could just keep her in Stasis until then. Keep a rotation and it should be fine," one of them suggested.

Another shrugged. "Hmm, fine I guess. Who goes first?"

"I—I asked you a question! What have you done to professor Henell?!"

"At least it'll shut her up."

"Wait... Matriarch Benezia is coming here. She wants to talk to her," the warden said, nodding at the distraught Matriarch. "Put her in the interrogation room, past the others..."

Y'lana nodded, turning her head just at the moment to miss the calculating spark in the professor's eyes. Or rather, the desperation of someone down to their last resort.

One of the commandos grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. "Move."

They headed for the interrogation room, walking past the three other holding cells. Y'lana, taking the lead glanced only momentarily at the captured and unconscious asari inside, making sure to keep at least one eye on the Matriarch at all times.

"Hey, Y'lana! Your rifles back, if you want it!" Someone shouted to her, and she turned to regard the commando, holding aloft the rifle. She nodded, taking her eyes off the Matriarch for just a single instant as she thought that she would have to perform a full check on it just be sure it hadn't been tampered with.

But that momentary distraction was still enough.

It was just an instant; a single fraction between one second and another, where not a single one of them was paying attention to her. A cowering non-combatant, they had all thought. What danger could she pose, unarmed and alone? Especially since they were all wearing hardsuits.

But she wasn't trying to hurt them.

The biotic wave—an all-encompassing dome of expanding force, pushing everyone in the corridor away with the force of a runaway shuttle, sent all the commandos flying off of their feet. It was merely a second that they were taken off guard. A mere second before they recovered and were back on their feet, their own biotics kicking in to allow them to catch themselves and prepare to retaliate.

But it was already too late.

Y'lana's barrier slammed into place around her as she prepared a biotic slam, gritting her teeth at having been too lax. But her eyes widened as she beheld the Matriarch.

The gaping wound in the Matriarch's torso; the long rivers of freely flowing blood; the slim, black shard of something held in her hand. All of that, Y'lana registered at once as the gears in her head rolled into place to take down the Matriarch.

So when she plunged into one of the holding cells—through the mass effect field which allowed entry into the cells, but not out of them—she did not recognize it as a hostile act, one requiring her to prioritize a take down. If the Matriarch wanted to run into a holding cell she could not possibly get out of, that was hardly a problem for them.

Y'lana watched it in puzzlement as the arm was swung down. The black shard was plunged straight into Nirida Henell's chest.

She had time to realize that they had royally fucked up, just as all hell broke loose.

"Aaaaaaa̷a̸h͘hh̻̦̻ẖ̮̯͔̫h̦̩̬͙̼͖͟ͅh̡͎͕̙͖͖͖͔̉̈́͑͗ͭh̢͕̬̘̳̠̼̫̮͕̝̭̘̰̟͚̲̬̭͙͛ͨ̇̈̿͌ͩ͠!"

;

Shepard stumbled as something seemed to hit her in the chest, the ephemeral impact knocking all the air out of her lungs in one gust-like gasp.

She blinked back confusion as her teeth seemed to vibrate in her mouth; like tuning forks being pressed against each other, resonating off-key and discordant. Then the sensation spread, as all her bones and joints seemed to become afflicted as well. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her as her knee began to ache anew, the amplified pain and weakness making her vision swim even without all the other strange sensations affecting her.

"What is this...?" Benezia asked out aloud, before turning to regard her. "Are you alright, lieutenant?"

She nodded, waving away the concern with a quiet thanks and a reassuring smile that she really didn't feel. "I'm alright... What's going on?"

Behind them the commandos who had been escorting and following Benezia rushed up to them, radiating concern and worry for their mistress.

It was Emiya who answered, clicking his tongue with annoyance. "It's the Dretirop asari... The one who had supposedly given up. She did something in the cell, but the security cameras didn't catch it properly. Whatever it was, it also broke the camera."

Beside her, Benezia frowned at the cross-armed and far-eyed Emiya. Didn't he realize he was revealing just how completely he had subverted the ship's security systems by telling them this? Or rather, he was completely aware and didn't care, even as the commandos tensed and buzzed at his words.

"What was that?" She asked, motivated as much by curiosity as a hope to distract Benezia's commandos, even for just a moment.

"I'm not sure, the footage was—"

His words were interrupted as all the lights in the hallway vanished, plunging them into darkness.

"Huh?"

"What the?!"

Several of the commandos scrambled to use their omnitools, bringing back light. But a few seconds later the lights flickered back on.

"Emergency power. Your fusion reactor has gone offline due to overheating," Emiya explained, unmoved and still frowning as he continued. "Henell just broke loose and took out three commandos. I need to go and—huh?" he spoke as he moved to start running, only to stumble at the first step. "She's... gone? A biotic blink...?"

Benezia moved to stand in front of Emiya, catching his attention as she started to speak. "Professor Henell has broken loose?"

"That's impossible, the holding cells are lined with mass effect containment fields—even Blinking would not allow one to escape the cell," Shiala objected immediately.

"...She broke through them; two of the power conductors in the brig blew out trying to contain her," Emiya explained, his eyes still looking at nothing.

The asari blinked, her expression one of complete surprise and disbelief at what she had been told. "That is impossible. Even a Matriarch could not possibly—"

Emiya ignored her and the other asari, wheeling around as he began to walk with purpose. "She's at the aft-munitions storage."

"—have... Aft-munitions?!"

"Hey, Emiya wait up!" Shepard shouted, moving to follow.

Looking over his shoulder, he stared at her. "You're in no condition to fight."

"The hell I'm not!" she objected loudly, rushing to catch up to him. And as he halted in the middle of his step she almost ran into his back, looking up at him with a few choice words as he frowned with that still far-off look in his eyes.

"She's gone again."

"Wait, what?" Shepard blinked, all else forgotten. "Again?"

"Where?" Benezia asked, looking away from her commandos who were desperately working to figure out what was going on as well.

"Near the engines, by the emergency generator. Maneuvering is already offline, but life-support systems are still working. I think she's aiming to disable those by turning off the power completely."

Shiala drew in a sharp breath of surprise. "That is ridiculous, no one could move through that many walls that quickly."

"Move through walls?" Shepard repeated with disbelief. "How is that possible?"

"Certain biotic techniques are capable of allowing one to phase through solid matter by shunting themselves to adjacent physical dimensions; it is how a biotic charge can move one through certain obstacles and why starships do not ram directly into every particle in the void during flight. A biotic blink is a short-range movement ability that focuses on shunting oneself as much as possible out of these physical dimensions to maximize that effect," Shiala hastily explained, before hesitating as she glanced at the still and silent Emiya. "In theory, it is possible to jump around a ship in such a manner with a Blink... But the distances are much too great, and the amount of matter to 'move through' exponentially increases the difficulty. I can barely go through a pane of glass, myself. And at those distances, she would be likely to phase back inside of a wall or floor, given that she would have no way of knowing where she would come back."

"Ah, uh yeah okay...?" Shepard muttered, a little overwhelmed by all that. The Alliance files regarding biotics had made no mention of such techniques, perhaps due to never facing an organized fighting force with a large number of biotics before. That changes everything; none of the tactical assessments have factored in such mobility.

"Two teams, headed by Anatha are heading for the emergency power. She will have it under—" Benezia said out loud, looking up from her own omnitool and breaking Shepard from her thoughts.

"Too late, she's on the move again." Emiya was growing increasingly frustrated, Shepard realized. "There were casualties among the engineering crew—send a trauma team and engineers down there instead."

"What happened?"

"Henell wounded two asari mechanics and crippled the Dreyn N'var's back up generators. You'll lose all power in 10 minutes at this rate," he said as he stared at them, then turned around to start walking in a completely different direction. She could just hear him mutter to himself "I knew she was being too methodical for this to be a mere berserk-state," as he passed her by before he added more loudly. "Fine, then. Guess I'll just have to stop her myself."

"What are you...?" Shepard began to ask, but then he vanished on the spot. "Emiya!?"

Benezia and the assembled asari seemed to gasp as one, their heads turning left and right as they began to search for him. "Where did he go?"

She hobbled over to where he had stood moments before, worry radiating in her chest as she looked around. Even the grinding pain of shards of bone in her knee wasn't able to penetrate through her concern.

"Hey, Emiya, this isn't funny!"

She reached forward and then suddenly felt something, as her hand felt something familiar. Warm skin. She blinked, brows furrowing as she felt human flesh where her eyes saw nothing. Cloaking technology?

That one realization sent her mind a whirl, knowing that such technology was the cutting edge of military technology, that not even the Citadel had still fielded reliable cloaking on the field as far as the Alliance knew. How had he gotten it? And why was he just standing there, leaning against the wall?

Then, the whole starship seemed to shake.

Rumbling echoes, transmitted through the walls. Like a far off thunderstorm and quake, still rumbling at this distance with enough power to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. Except that was impossible on a starship, right? They both looked up and around, confused by the continued sounds.

"Is someone shooting at the cruiser...?" Shiala asked.

"Surely not," Benezia answered, in a voice that sounded as much in need of reassurance as it was one.

And just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended.

The next second Emiya reappeared exactly where he had been, his mood twice as black as it had been mere seconds before, leaving the frazzled asari at a complete loss at his scowling visage.

"Huh!?"

"That was unexpected, she's pretty tough... At least now I know how to trail her. No mistaking that wake," he muttered quietly, before turning to regard Benezia. "You need to get your commandos and all your personnel somewhere defensible; Henell is rampaging across the whole ship and if this keeps up the casualties will start piling up. I'll try to take her down as quickly as possible, but I don't think this will be that easy."

"What, what are you talking about? What was that rumbling just now? Was that your doi—"

"No time, Benezia!" He stalked up to her, grabbing both of her shoulders as he shouted. "Where can you defend yourself on the ship? Assume you're being attacked by an overwhelming force of commandos who have already boarded the ship — where would you take refuge?"

The Matriarch blinked silently, taken aback by his forceful demeanor. Finally, Shiala spoke up, "The... the communal dining hall is the designated fallback-point. It's—"

"Good, go there and protect your people!" He didn't bother listening to the end as he turned to look at Shepard. "And you need to get out of here with the Alliance personnel; half of them still haven't left."

She blinked, realizing that this was serious. It was one thing that things were going crazy, but if an Alliance officer was injured during all of this, it would become a huge deal. Nodding twice, determination flooded her. "I'll have 'em off the ship in five minutes. Then I'll grab some gear and come back you up, you can patch into any comms, right? I'll call out to you—"

"Like hell you will," he cut her off, not even looking at her as he did.

"Like hell I won't!" Anger erupted in her chest as her arms lashed out, grabbing a hold of his shirt. Or trying anyhow, as she couldn't get a proper grip on the tightly fit material. So she settled on grabbing his shoulder instead. "You can't tell me what I can and can't—"

His distant eyes snapped to hers, bringing down the full brunt of his wrath on her. "Bullshit. You're in no condition to fight."

She blinked at the sheer anger in his voice, feeling her own temper flaring again. Who the hell was he to—

"Were you cleared for active physical duty by the medical staff?" he asked, sneering as he stared at her down the length of his nose.

She blinked, deflating instantly as she realized what he meant. She hadn't, as a matter of fact. In fact, anything more strenuous than a brisk walk could be grounds for official reprisal, given that she was supposed to be recovering from multiple organ transplant surgery. Even having helped Shiala carry that one asari was skirting that line if the Alliance medical personnel were to find out.

"Exactly." He glared at her, seething the lone word out. "Or are you going to risk it here? Your Alliance insurance won't cover those kinds of fees, especially if you ignored strict medical orders. Are you really willing to risk the kind of debt you would accrue from having to pay that? The reprisal? It won't end with just a slap on your wrist, you know that." He lectured her, his eyes boring into her as she had to take a step back. "So the next time you think about turning yourself into Swiss cheese, remember that you have to live with your choices."

"—But... What if—"

She realized then that he was actually angry with her. Had been angry, since he had realized the condition she had been in when they had fought back down on Torfan. That he was scolding her for having been too reckless.

"Tough," he said, still glaring down at her.

Cold eyes. Hardened by similar experiences. Had he been here before, too? In her shoes, in this situation, or one just like it? She faltered, for just a second, and realized he had won.

Shepard grit her teeth while still holding out for long seconds of silent protest, but finally nodded as she pushed down the white-hot anger in her chest. It wasn't the time, the place or the right people to take it out on. Not while people's lives were at stake.

All she was accomplishing here was distracting him and keeping him from getting on with saving lives.

"Fine," she managed through clenched teeth. "Guess I'm staying out of this one. This time."

Emiya nodded and turned around, giving the still frozen Benezia his full attention. "And you, what the hell are you still doing here? Do you think this is a show or something? Get moving already! You're the only one who can hold off Henell's biotics when she shows up; they need you there."

Some of the commandos bristled at his words, but Shiala and a few others appeared actually worried by his words. The Matriarch blinked, as if only just now pulled back to reality as she shook her head. "Ah yes—yes, of course. I understand."

"Then what are you going to do?" Shepard asked.

He huffed, some amusement finally peeking through his foul mood. "I'm going to stop Henell."

Having said that, he sat down again.

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I'll stop her, so just go. Both of you!" He waved them all away. "And you should be running, Benezia!"

The Matriarch gave him a queer look, before finally turning around and taking off as quickly as her low-cut dress allowed, her retinue of scowling commandos following right behind.

Shepard hesitated, seeing that none of the asari were staying behind. Was he planning to just sit here, alone? Why had he closed his eyes now? No, he's got a plan. I can trust that... Right?

As she thought that, the quaking booms resumed from an entirely new direction. Far closer this time, she could feel the starship vibrating beneath her feet in rhythmic, pulsating tune. Like the heartbeat of the ship itself, she thought for a moment before shaking that thought away.

"What the heck... If he's the one doing that, I need to get me some brain problems as well..." She complained as she stared at Emiya. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do...?"

Her omnitool buzzed to life. "Shepard, the Alliance personnel is evacuating now. Head for the hangar. It's the next left up ahead, follow the hallway to the end and take the stairs down."

"Emiya? Hey, no way am I leaving you behind!" she shouted back, but he didn't answer. She waited for long seconds but still received no reply. Huh, he can't hear me then...

Was there any point in her leaving with the Alliance officers? In fact, would their waiting on her not just keep them here longer? She pulled out her omnitool again, opening a commline to the general frequency the other officers should have active and open at the moment.

"This is Lieutenant Shepard of the Systems Alliance. Any receiving Alliance personnel, please acknowledge, over."

A few seconds later, a reply came. "Shepard, this is Commander Boroff, we hear you loud and clear. Where are you?"

"I was with Matriarch Benezia—kind of stuck right now with something." She side-stepped the question, breaching comm protocol entirely as she continued."Are you at the shuttles already? There was an evacuation order because of the fusion reactor failure, right?"

"Yes, but the bay doors are sealed due to the power going out. The asari are trying to fix it right now. There's something rotten going on; get your ass over here, lieutenant. The asari are all arming up, but they're being tight-lipped as to why."

Shepard's mind raced, before settling on a likely explanation. She wasn't sure how much of what she had become privy to during Emiya's and Benezia's conversation should be spoken off on open comms. But a harmless little fib which got the facts across, should be fine. "There was some kind of agitant down on Torfan, hooked up with the captives' quarters. I think there's been some kind of leak on the ship; be advised that unidentified asari might be hostile."

There was a long silence, during which she was certain the cadre of officers on the other end were discussing what she had said heatedly.

Finally, she received a confirmation.

"...Acknowledged. Do you require assistance, lieutenant? What is your current position?"

"Hell if I know. It's not like they gave me a map," she groused. Emiya had given her rough directions, but that didn't mean she knew where she was. But she did know what she was going to do. "But I'm in the company of a VIP so don't worry about me."

She meant that she was protecting a VIP, but she was certain they would think she would be receiving the protection such a person would be receiving. When had it come to this? That she would repeatedly and with intent lie to her superiors and comrades, serving her own ends like this? God damn it, Emiya. Things were so simple before you popped back into my life...

To commline buzzed with a reply. "Understood, lieutenant. Commander Boroff over and out."

"Will do, Lieutenant Shepard over and out," she said and closed the line. Inhaling slowly, she turned around and shook her head. "Now I need to find a gun. If he's sat his ass down to focus, then just about anyone could sneak up on him..."

Hadn't she done the same a mere day earlier?

She wasn't sure who she was convincing here; herself—or the annoyed Emiya who would be out for answers once he realized she was there and not leaving the ship with the other Alliance officers. He was still seated where she had left him. Completely vulnerable and helpless.

What was he even doing? He was obviously doing something—but what?

Shepard frowned, gingerly crouching down to stare at him. With his eyes closed and leaning back against the wall, he could have been asleep for all she knew. Or dead.

The creases in her brow deepening, she tried to ignore that thought but found that it would not leave her so easily. Hesitantly, she reached out and placed a hand against the bare skin of his arm. It was warm to the touch, and reaching down to his wrist she found his pulse without issue, beating strong and slow.

But even as the worry about his life receded, she realized that he hadn't moved at all even as she had touched him. He was utterly helpless right now; she felt vindicated in her choice to stay. Like hell was she just going to run away, especially when she had no idea what was going on. Well, if he felt confident enough to just sleep here, then she might as well stay here too. It wasn't like either of them would be any safer alone.

Should I move him? We're completely out in the open here. She could take him back to Benezia's quarters. No, the doors would be locked.

What the hell had been his plan? Was he focusing on hacking so much that he couldn't even stand up? She had noticed that he had a tendency to zone out during conversations recently. Had he been hacking then too?

As she stood there for a minute, just weighing her options, the rhythmic sounds of what could only be combat continued. It was constantly changing, moving closer and further away every ten seconds, it felt like. And every twenty or thirty seconds Emiya's body twitched, tightened up and then relaxed again. Almost as if he had been asleep, kicking at his covers while dreaming of running, she mused.

And then her entire body froze up.

Her every muscle seized up; her neck and head shaking at the stress as she could feel a headache budding, while at the same time she felt the bones in her knee flaring up again.

Biting the inside of her lip, she spat blood and got a hold of herself. Realizing belatedly the cause, she frowned at the queer howling she could hear in the distance. Echoing through the winding passages and hallways of the asari cruiser. Somewhere not far from here, something was screaming.

Shepard swallowed, getting back up and gearing herself up for a fight.

As the asari came around the corner, she relaxed so completely she almost fell over. Exhaling and shaking her head, she grinned at the asari as she shouted out. "Hey! What are you doing here, its—"

And then she realized that something was off about the asari ahead.

Sluggish. Slowly swaying with every step. Turning her crested head in a manner too exaggerated to be natural, as if her eyeballs did not function properly... Everything about the asari's body language was just off.

She swallowed, as much to cool her nerves as to wet her suddenly dry mouth.

Shit. No gun and biotics are a bitch... If it came to a fight, it would be a pain in the ass. Especially with her leg the way it was. She blinked, noticing that the asari was walking closer at a sedate pace. Almost as if she thought Shepard hadn't noticed anything off.

Maybe...

Right, nothing to it. Plastering an easy smile, she shouted to the asari. "Hey! You mind coming over and giving me a hand? My friend slipped and hit his head!"

Shepard ignored every instinct screaming at her, telling her that this shambling asari was Dangerous and turned her back to her, as if bending over to check on Emiya. Something about her is off. Like she's lost her mind...

But some predatory instinct seemed to remain. Some remnant of sense that told the asari that getting closer would be good. The kind of ambush instinct that existed in the 'lizard brains' of nearly all sapient beings, that knew that killing your prey was easiest when they allowed you to draw near, right behind them.

"You grab his other arm and..." Shepard continued talking as the asari neared.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Not yet... Not yet... Now!

She pivoted on her foot, lashing out with an elbow at the asari's face the moment she was in range. Cartilage crumpled beneath bone on impact, the blue head rocking back. Yet the asari made no sound of protest beyond a wheeze of air.

Shepard ignored the twinge of pain from her leg as she shot forward, dancing around and behind the asari in a one-two-one step and twirl. Arms shot forward over shoulders and clamped down into a vise-like sleeper hold. The asari struggled with more wheezed gasps, and suddenly Shepard found her legs floating off the floor. But that didn't matter; her arms were wrapped around the asari's neck and weight mattered little here.

The asari flailed, arms uselessly swinging about as wheezing gasps rasped at Shepard's senses. But ten seconds of struggle was all it took until the cut-off blood flow to the brain had done its job and the asari lost consciousness. Crumpling down and returning Shepard's mass to normal, she had to struggle to avoid landing on her bad foot.

Grimacing at the tangle of limbs she had made on the floor with the knocked out asari, she scoffed. Sheesh.

It was only then that she realized that her chest was slick with blood. Her heart froze in her chest for a solitary, drawn-out second, but then she realized it wasn't hers. Looking up, she found the wound on the asari's back bleeding freely and already pooling on the floor from the exertion of wrestling.

She frowned, pushing away the body practically on top of her as she peered at the wound. There's... something in there?

A black, jagged piece. Sticking out ever so slightly. Someone had stabbed it into the asari's back. Somehow, something about that made her spine crawl as she kicked off the asari and pushed herself away.

"I need to tie her up..." she muttered to herself, as much to distract as to remind her that this was no time for freezing up.

Taking off her dress uniform jacket, she made do with it and bound the asari's arms at the small of her back, just below where the black thing was peeking out of her flesh.

"That should do..."

It wasn't bleeding anymore, she distantly noted after wondering whether she should try to pull the thing out. It's probably pressing against veins; I shouldn't remove it... Right?

She still had medigel with her.

Sixteen courses on first aid, seven of which were on battlefield triage. Bi-monthly refresher courses as per active personnel regulations. Hell, she was even subscribed to the Sirta Foundations weekly extranet magazine just for the articles...

All of her experience told her that she could easily treat such a wound. Even on an alien. Yet her gut told her to stay as far away from the unconscious and bound asari as possible. That she shouldn't touch whatever it was, that had been burrowed into her back, that she was too far gone already. Filthy. Infected. Dangerous.

"Like hell," she cussed and moved forward.

She wasn't going to let this stranger die, not if she could do something about it!

Omnitool program set; medigel being adjusted to function using the blood sample she had taken from the asari; hands sterilized, she exhaled as she placed one hand around the wound on the asari's back. Her knee was leaning down on the small of the asari's back to keep her down in case she started struggling, but she didn't want to put weight down on or around the wound. Not before she had managed to pull out that thing.

Fingers reached in and grasped for a good grip. The white-silk glove of her uniform soaking in the almost-black blood and she knew she would never be able to wash it white again. But she wasn't going to touch that thing directly. She pulled, yet it didn't even so much as budge. It was as if it had spread roots out into the asari's body.

Shepard grimaced, getting a better grip and leaning down more, using the other hand as support to exert more force. One pull. Two pulls. It budged and Shepard instinctively knew that it had been the asari's body that had started to give way as the thing was being uprooted out of her flesh. The act would probably do catastrophic damage, yet Shepard only became more convinced that it had to be removed by the second. It was something vile and disgusting. Unnatural and perverse to life itself.

It had to go.

The asari gasped, and there was a touch of panic to it. That timbre of genuine, humane horror and fear, that she knew that the asari had been knocked out of her puppet-like state.

"It's alright, just hold on for a second. I'll get this thing out, so fight the pain! I have medigel, so—" She spoke to reassure her, almost missing the change.

It was the change in air pressure that made Shepard turn around and pause in what she had been doing.

And the second she did, she saw it.

"Aaaa..."

Having appeared out of nowhere, clad in blue sparks and torn shreds of clothing. Emaciated and with a skin color of long-rotted death, Gray and mottled, almost torn at places. Not emaciated, she realized. Stretched out.

It was an asari, yet not, she realized instantly.

Too twisted, and too grotesque to be truly called that. It was a living creature that had been warped. Changed by something. Perverted. So tall that her crest almost brushed the ceiling, walking on shambling and twisted legs, its eyes bored down on her.

No.

At the black thing she had been trying to remove.

The air itself seemed to freeze, as suddenly Shepard felt like her mass had tripled. No, it had tripled—at the very least, possibly and easily being a dozen-fold more than that actually—she realized with dawning horror. A Stasis-field encompassing the whole hallway was being created by this creature.

A mouth far too large and broken opened up, stretching enough that the black teeth could have bitten off a head. And then the sound...

"Aaaaaaa..."

Pain. Like her teeth were vibrating in her mouth, trying to loosen themselves from her skull and shatter explosively in her mouth. Her bones thrumming in tone with that scream that was only rising in pitch and volume with every second.

"Gah...!" Shepard lost her balance, despite being on her knee already. Her vision doubled, but even so she could see that gangling creature approaching with slow strides.

"Aaaaaaaaa̷a̸h͘hh̻̦̻!"

Death came for her, she knew with absolute certainty.

Red flashed before her eyes, warring with blue lighting as the air itself thundered. Her ears popped and her lungs felt like they were about to burst, leaving her a coughing mess on the floor.

But she was still alive, she realized.

Blinking away the tears of agony, she looked up and froze. Emiya...?

But he was still behind her, still slumped over and unconscious she knew. But there, clad in crimson and black, kneeling on the ground twenty meters away... It was definitely him. Even with that same featureless helmet he had worn down on Torfan hiding his face, she still instantly recognized him. But that feeling shrouding him; that aura of barely restrained murderous intent was entirely new.

"Aaaaa..."

The twisted asari-creature shrouded in deepest blues and purple lights groaned, turning to half regard him as he stood up. He must have tried to tackle or kick it, only to be tossed aside by its crackling biotics. One of the ceiling lights had been shattered between her and him, broken pieces falling to the ground as he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just the tiniest fraction. Had he been thrown into the ceiling that hard? How was he still standing, when the ceiling and lights had been shattered completely by that impact? In fact the ceiling itself was bent and caved in, the metal and plastic completely broken.

Their eyes met for a second—she knew despite the opaque visor hiding his features—and she nodded.

No words, yet something had been transmitted between them in that instant.

The next second white lighting flashed.

The creature raised an arm and swiped it aside in a willow-in-the-wind-like backhand and sparks flew as something embedded itself into the wall next to it. But that had nothing to do with her, as she spun on the ground and delivered a spinning ground-kick to the back of the creature's knee.

Something resisted her for a moment, but the surprise attack still went through as its focus had been completely on Emiya.

Its stance broke as it keeled over backward. He didn't miss his chance, exploding forward with his left arm raised, vanishing entirely from her sight for a moment. Like a collapsing mountain, he crashed forward and struck down.

The creature was bowled over, sent flying over her and down the hallway like a cannonball had folded it over. She had just time to turn around to see it spinning on the ground like a rag doll, certain that at least one arm had been broken on impact with the floor.

"Yeah, take that!" she shouted, getting back up to all fours with a toothy grin plastered on her face.

Yet, Emiya was still radiating that anger beside her as he clicked his tongue. "Tch... A direct cut and it just barely grazed."

"Huh?" she muttered looking up to him for further explanations, but he only lazily tossed the thing in his left hand into the air away from him in a long arc. She blinked, eyes taking in the curved black blade, realizing that he had been trying to cut down the creature just now.

And then he vanished; disappearing into nothingness. "Huh?!"

She blinked, swinging her head left and right in an effort to find him, and in the corner of her vision she saw movement, drawing her eyes. The until-now unconscious arm of Emiya snatched the spinning blade out of the air, drawing her eyes back again to him and the blade. Ignoring her entirely, he kicked off the ground and stood up as if nothing had just happened.

"What the hell is going on...? Hey, Emiya!"

He sighed, glancing at her. "It's complicated, and this really isn't the time."

She inhaled slowly, before finally nodding. But there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to just forget about all of this, once it was all over. Getting up as well, keeping her eyes on the form of the creature that had been blown away as she did. "Okay, then what the hell is that thing?"

Emiya sighed, some of the tension in his back returning as he spoke. "...That, would be the esteemed professor Nirida Henell."

"Huh, she hasn't aged all too gracefully, has she?" she quipped, eyeing his tense form. Like a bow at full draw, it somehow gave her the impression he was on the edge of snapping.

He relaxed a little, scoffing at her words. "No. No, she really hasn't. Though you can't blame her; late growth spurts can be a pain to deal with like that."

"So what's going on?"

"She's too slippery, and keeps teleporting around and I can't pin her down," he explained shortly. Sighing, he looked away and back to Henell. "Fourteen people have already died, while I wasn't able to catch up. That's the first significant wound I've been able to put on her."

Following his gaze, she frowned at the wound he had inflicted. It was a deep gash, running from shoulder to hip—the kind of disemboweling wound that should have bled anyone out in minutes. Yet on the creature it seemed to have done nothing; there was no bleeding, no awkwardness of motion to hint at any perceived pain or actual damage, nothing.

"Of course, that has nothing to do with you. I thought we agreed you should get out of here."

"Uh huh. That was before I realized you were just going to sit here in the middle of a hallway. What if she had showed up and bitten off your head before you, uh... showed up...?" she rebutted, raising a challenging brow at him even as her own words petered into a question at the end.

"Hmm..."

It seemed like he had nothing to say to that. But it was still as good as a confirmation that it had been him making all that noise earlier. What was that, some kind of advanced drone? How advanced is his technology and where is he getting all of it? I've never seen anything like it.

"Just sit tight and let me handle this," Emiya said as he swung the blade in his left hand easily as if limbering and warming up before exercise, as he started moving towards Henell.

She flinched as the object that had embedded itself to the wall behind her was torn loose and snapped to his right hand. A white blade, mirroring the black in his left and creating a set and reminding her of over-sized butcher's blades. It took her a moment to realize what they were, the absurdity of the antique armaments leaving her aghast. He's using swords...?

"Aaaaaa..."

Shepard's fingers twitched, itching for a rifle as the jarring, hollow scream began again. A solid thirty-round burst would do wonders to shut the creature up, she thought through gritted teeth. But it turned its head, taking a step towards the wall on long gangling limbs, as if utterly dismissing them in favor of some other unknown purpose.

"Tch. Leaving again huh," Emiya said, turning to look at Shepard as the blades in his hands vanished. "If you're going to stay here... Then I'll leave myself in your care."

He inclined his head slightly, and she could only nod.

The air crackled, and she turned her head, realizing a second later that Henell had vanished again. A second later, Emiya's unconscious body was sliding down the wall into a seated position again, leaving her completely alone again. The swords had vanished, too.

She blinked, looking around and taking in the devastation that had come to pass in a mere handful of seconds with those two's presence, noting how even the floor hadn't been spared as Emiya's feet had left cracked indentations behind. It was like the hard and unyielding material was like mere cardboard to them.

"...Well, what the hell do you think I've been doing until now?" she complained to no one, huffing as she shook her head.

;

Emiya jumped out of the security camera, immaterial and invisible as he phased down through the floor, his mind racing as he left Shepard behind.

Only a handful of cameras still remained online, giving him fewer and fewer points of exit to work with, unless someone fixed the power soon. The longer this wore on, the more difficult a time he would have catching up to Henell after every time she used a Blink to relocate.

Currently she was another two levels below him in what was labeled as a personal quarter on the cruiser's internal schematics, but this had been the closest point out that he could find and save time through. While he had been in, he had also taken in everything during his short stay in the computer, coordinating the commandos as he tried to keep the conflict from boiling over. But he knew it was a losing battle if he couldn't take out Henell quickly; unless someone fixed the power soon, life-support systems would start going offline.

He shook his head. This really was the worst place possible to be fighting a biotic, he thought for the nth time.

The first problem was that a Blink's trail wasn't like a Charge's; it could go through walls and curve. He couldn't just pick a direction and try to catch up; he had to knew specifically where she had jumped before he materialized. He had set himself a twenty-second limit on manifestation since Thessia, but already he had been pushing himself closer to thirty just to minimize the collateral damage every time she jumped in the middle of a group of commandos fighting it out with each other.

Tight, narrow hallways which made flanking and pushing through difficult. The lack of space for him to attack from multiple directions simultaneously with projectiles.

And unlike the meat-grinder of Torfan's underground tunnels, there was plenty of room for a biotic to fall back or move around, since at these distances Blinking made walls immaterial. She could jump from room to room, going up or down levels without any problems, forcing him to constantly keep track of her. That was what asari ships had been designed around; the seeming luxurious space all actually extremely suited to their biotics, giving them enough space and cover to work with without allowing them to be outmaneuvered easily.

Adding on top of that his constant timer, which forced him to disengage and jump back to his body through the connection to his cybernetics, which meant that he simply couldn't pressure her enough to break through her biotic barriers. Not that he had had much opportunity to pressure her, given how much effort he had to put to keep casualties to a minimum until now.

Before—when he had run away—he could have probably powered through if he resolved to take a hit in return. But this change—whatever it had been caused by, which had turned her body into a grotesque monstrosity—had explosively increased the potential of her biotics. He was certain that it was causing damage to her body to operate on this level, but Henell was long gone and had no care for such matters anymore.

But even with his full physical might brought to bear thanks to the chance Shepard had created, he still hadn't been able to lay a decisive blow on Henell. It was like trying to cut down a falling leaf with a fan; she just moved out of the way, her biotics acting like layers of padding, slowing him down just enough that he couldn't pierce through. Even when he managed a direct hit, she had managed to blunt the impact and only be blown back as her biotics took the actual brunt of the attack.

And he couldn't speed-blitz her, either.

Biotics regularly stopped hypervelocity rounds, and she had cloaked herself in three dozen layers of various barriers. Even getting within line of sight was already putting him inside of her outermost folds, giving her a perfect sense of his movements and actions. On top of that it was like fighting underwater; a constant Stasis-like pressure she tried to exert on him to slow him down while reading his movements to reinforce wherever he tried to break through by sheer force.

It wasn't by skill or intent, he suspected. There was no delay between action and reaction. There was none of Henell left in the monster that was roaming the cruiser now. Merely a murderous intent; an instinctive battle-logic fully focused on trying to kill this entire ship.

So he hadn't managed to cut her down yet, but neither could she really hurt him either. The Stasis-field was barely an annoyance; the slams and throws couldn't touch him unless he closed in and even then they merely battered him around, and the Warps were much too slow to catch him.

It was like two titans trying to punch each other out with balloons for fists, neither able to land a decisive blow on the other. It was turning into an endurance match, more than anything. Sooner or later one of them would give, thus he had to conserve his magical energy and be mindful of how long he spent out of his body.

But if that was all, then there wouldn't be a problem.

Henell was elusive and slippery, capable of killing even commandos with ease if he wasn't there to stop her, but if it was just her then he could have easily contained the situation.

The problem was that Henell wasn't alone, nor was it just the Dretirop contingent that he had to deal with. For some reason, commandos had begun to turn on commandos, just as crew had begun to attack fellow crew, wherever Henell went. He had said that fourteen people had died, which was true enough. What he hadn't said was that he had killed half of them. Or rather, they had turned on him and acted as willing meat-shields for Henell whenever he tried to take her out.

The entire ship had gone to bedlam in mere minutes.

He could catch glimpses of the struggle through the security cameras while he had been jumping between his body and the computer, now spreading to nearly every level. Benezia and Anatha had their hands full even now as more and more crew seemed to turn mad, reminding him of what he had been told by Benezia earlier. Is the thing that was down on Torfan somewhere aboard? The Alliance logs made no mention of it when they boarded the ship...

He shook his head. He had no idea where it was, and every time he left Henell alone things kept on escalating.

"Aaaaaa..."

He could already hear it, despite the floor still between them as he phased down through it. That wail, growing in strength and intensity matching Henell's own. Those biotic fields held closest to her were simply massive in breadth and depth. Such being born of a living biotic beggared the mind. If he hadn't seen it himself, he would have thought she was a starship's eezo core. Just the heat alone from the currents necessary from operating on that level should be killing her.

But it hadn't, meaning it was up to him to put a stop to her. And not just anything would do; he was certain that she could tank shots from gunships in her current state.

Should I use a broken phantasm...?

Caladbolg and Hrunting would blow clean through the hull before he could stop either, meaning they were right out. Additionally, Henell always seemed to fight in the middle of a crowd. How much collateral was he willing to accept to land a hit? He hesitated to use his bow now too, after she had proved capable of reacting and re-directing projectiles as she willed, earlier.

Perhaps a weaker phantasm planted as an explosive mine. Like on Torfan.

But balancing the necessary power to kill Henell with how much the starship could take would be a problem. It couldn't be anywhere too near the outer hull, either. It wouldn't be a joke if he broke the starship's integrity and explosively vented everyone out on accident.

Perhaps if he pulled her into his reality marble... But she would not stand still long enough for that to work, he suspected. And what if she could teleport out of it? He couldn't deny that possibility.

Dismissing those thoughts, he focused and got his mind back in the game.

Materializing, his boots slammed on the floor as he beheld the scene of carnage. Three asari lay dead, all commandos who had been fighting back and fallen before Henell moments before, taken down as much by her as well as by five of their former comrades who must have turned on them. A mere four-second lead on him had led to this.

Six pairs of eyes turned to him, all intent and murderous. Yet his failure here was an opportunity; with no further collateral around he could go all out here. As much as the starship's integrity would allow, anyhow. I need to take her down here before she jumps again somewhere with more people.

Just five on her side with zero unaffected civilians, was some of the best odds he had had until now. That moment with Shepard aside; it had broken the pattern he had been seeing until now. Why had Henell jumped there...?

Dismissing those thoughts, he ran through his options.

Eighteen seconds... His mind's eye began to play out moves, dismissing several opening ploys as he disguised the instant as an eternity.

This was too close to the starboard side; a broken phantasm would break through the outer hull. Which meant that if he wanted to take her down here, he would have to resolve himself to making an exchange of blows.

"Aaaaaaaaa..."

Henell began and the five others joined in with a chorus of moaning wails of their own. None of them had been transformed as she had, nor had any of them her potency. But in sufficient numbers and with Henell leading them—using them—they were hindrances.

He would have to take care of them first, to clear the battlefield of obstacles. Besides, their bloodied fingers and teeth stained with the remains of dead commandos' littering the room, had already sentenced them in his eyes.

Twin married swords appeared in his hands, hailed by fire and anger, as his fingers closed around the hilts.

Henell sensed his intentions, screaming again.

"Aaaaaaaaa̷a̸h͘hh̻̦̻ẖ̮̯͔̫h̦̩̬͙̼͖͟ͅh̡͎͕̙͖͖͖͔̉̈́͑͗ͭh̢͕̬̘̳̠̼̫̮͕̝̭̘̰̟͚̲̬̭͙͛ͨ̇̈̿͌ͩ͠!"

Shadows all around him roi̵led̷ and pu̡l͘śate͝d͝ in tune with the headache pressing down at him, but he suppressed the sensation through sheer, cold rage.

Taking that as the signal to begin, he exploded forward, faking a frontal charge to buy time. In this enclosed room, Henell could cover the whole space with her biotics.

Kanshou lashed out, loosed from his grasp at one asari like a flying buzz-saw. A bait as much as an attack; she would focus on the flying projectile.

He felt the fields shifting, mutating to intercept and swat aside the blade in the air, but he swung Bakuya in his hand and changed its course at the last second. The black blade twisted and turned in the air as it continued spinning, going through the neck of another asari then embedding itself in the wall through a third's arm. Two down.

Kicking down and pushing forward, he jumped over a table and lashed out with the blade in his right hand, as his boot connected with the chest of an asari leaning forward with lethal intent to Charge him. Ribs shattered and a neck was cut, as his left hand slammed down on the back of a chair. Using it for support, he righted himself in the air. It toppled over with a clatter as he got his bearings, lashing out with another two cuts that dismantled the cupboard sent flying at him by Henell.

Fifteen seconds. Two down, two left.

He sneered, flicking the white blade and leaving a crescent of purple blood across the otherwise still pristine white wall. The chair was at his feet; Kanshou embedded across the room in the wall. He could box Henell in, if...

The chair was sent flying straight at Henell as his leg exploded up, as he pulled back Bakuya while reaching through the wife-blade for its husband. The embedded sword pried itself loose and primed to return to his hand; through Henell's neck along the way.

But the mass effect fields wavered for an instant and the sword's mass increased a hundredfold instantly, stopping it dead in the air before it fell to the floor. The chair was swatted aside by another biotic exertion, the physical motion making Henell's broken arm limply swing at her side.

He dashed to around the room, stopping at a corner and kicking off the room towards the last standing asari. The white sword flashed, parting head and one arm—shoulder and all—from the rest of the asari's torso as he moved past her. Just Henell left...!

Making a beeline for the last combatant standing, he rushed in low and fast.

She raised a hand, blue sparks crackling as she opened her mouth to scream again. He clenched the blade, placing his free hand against the back as he put his whole weight behind the sword, thrusting forward like a bolt of lightning and slamming everything against Henell's defense.

It was like slamming into a mountain, as he came to an immediate stop. The crackling barrier completely impenetrable, bringing all of her biotic power to bear.

"Kh...!"

Gritting his teeth, he tried to push forward but found the floor did not give enough purchase, and that his blade would not budge even an inch forward.

Henell's other hand twitched, the shattered shoulder-bone allowed little movement beyond that. But it was enough to guide the intent and practiced maneuver she had wanted, as a biotic pull was enacted on the kicked-over table behind his back. That's fine, I'll take your neck from behind in exchange!

"—Trace, on"—begin projection,

Locked into place and forced into a standoff, she had unwittingly given him enough time to pull off one of his slower maneuvers. The two swords appeared in the air behind Henell's head, crashing down to pierce her spine at the same instant as the table smashed into his back.

Henell did not visibly react, only swaying at the last second just enough for the two swords to miss her spine and skull. Punching through until the crossguards hit her skin, the swords met almost no resistance. She swayed, blood welling in her throat as a gurgling groan as one of the blades had pierced her throat.

At the same time, the table folded over and shattered as metal and plastic broke on impact with his back. But it didn't move him, his full weight already leaning into the sword in his hand. Rather, it only pushed him forward, towards Henell.

The resistance Bakuya had been met with weakened, perhaps as much from the impact to his back as from the sudden damage she had taken. It didn't matter; he surged forward—forcing through with a roar—aiming to sever her neck with one swing.

A massive build up; the innermost folds draining to power up an attack; the fabric of space bending to accommodate—A Shockwave...!

He jumped to the side to avoid being thrown back, dancing around the biotic freight train that rocked the room sending tables and chairs flying and shattering against the walls. Sliding against the floor to correct his course while struggling with the wake of the Shockwave, he slammed Bakuya into the floor to create a handhold for himself. He needed to attack, now! Having drained all her momentary reserves, she was completely open for his counter for this half-instant!

The Kanshou lying inert on the floor shook, and then returned to his hand as if reeled in or pulled by a strong magnet. Parting Henell from her leg below the knee in the process. She was off-balance, falling over. Just as planned.

Wide open, spent and with no cannon fodder to rely on, he had her now.

But that was his mistake; assuming that the Shockwave had been all that Henell had been setting up.

"Aaaaaahh—!"

Space itself froze, his hunched over figure one second away from dashing forward stopping awkwardly just as she froze in the middle of her falling over.

A Stasis field... Can I ride it out with just ten seconds left? He considered coolly as he reminded himself of how little time he still had before he needed to reset.

If he failed here and she got away again, she would be rested up and ready for another round by the time he caught up again. He needed more time to properly pressure Henell, to wear down her reserves until all her biotic strength was spent. But he also needed to be able to keep up with her Blinking, thus he had to use his Servant body. It left him in limbo, stuck between two opposite pulls.

The fabric began to stretch taut, vibrating and gathering in clumps.

Emiya blinked as he realized Henell's intent, feeling the surge of biotic power she was building up while holding everything stilled. With his increased mass right now, it would be difficult to affect him physically. But using a Warp to perform a biotic explosion...

That would certainly put the hurt on him.

He struggled, trying to force himself to move. But even with his strength it just wasn't enough. It was as if his skin and muscles had turned to stone, with even the air itself around him having turned viscous, almost solid with how massive it had been made.

Astralizing, he tried to get out of the sphere of heavened mass. But the same property that had kept him airborne in the Museum of Serrice now kept him completely frozen in place, despite his nominal lack of mass. Henell hadn't even blinked or slowed down in her charging of the Warp, despite his vanishing for a moment.

Materializing again, he exhaled as he closed his eyes—or tried to anyhow, the Stasis field denying him even that much—and focused inwards.

He could feel the space he occupied being pulled 'down'. Like a fabric drawn taut being pulled down from below, pulling himself along with it and trapping him in the dip it formed. Like a hundred thousand threads, wrapped around his limbs and pulling him in every direction all at once, and as a result moving him nowhere but keeping him rooted in place.

I could get out if I burn through two-thirds of my magical energy and break free with sheer brute force...

But then what? It would leave him so low on magical energy that if it happened again, he wouldn't be able to do it again. And since he had to be mindful of his endurance, that might only be shooting himself in the foot in the long run even if it gave him a momentary advantage. Could he gamble on that and attempt to take Henell down here?

No — he couldn't guarantee a definite hit. And her Stasis field had taken him completely off guard. He had no guarantees he wouldn't end up in this situation again, either.

Should he just Reinforce himself and try to take the biotic explosion head on, toughing it out? He wasn't sure how much damage it would do to him, but seeing as how biotics had proven to affect him already...

But a thought occurred to him, regarding the layers of space. Biotics always felt slightly muted, in a sense. As if what was happening wasn't really happening near him, but behind a veil or in another room. As if there existed a boundary between the source and the result of biotics.

A boundary that reminded him of something.

It might just work; it's not like I've got anything to lose by trying. His thoughts that had already been turned inward sharpened and his focus clarified. The still-open, yet unseeing eyes turned to a hill of swords as his blood began to heat up.

If this twisted version of Henell could use her biotics to slide around and aside his blows, then why couldn't he do the same to her?

—I am the bone of my sword

Twenty-seven circuits all sprang to life, magical energy roaring. He wasn't going for a full incantation; he didn't need that much. Just enough to encroach on reality. A metaphorical thin film slid between himself and the fabric of space; he separated himself from everything as the World Egg and Self switched places for just an instant.

A ring of fire exploded outwards from his body, and he could breathe again.

Exploding forward with upraised sword in hand he struck down at Henell with everything he had. Parting flame and flesh with his cut, he felt more than saw the blade biting through something.

"AaaaaaaaaaAAaahh..."

The creature had been practically cut in two, sections of spine and parted ribs visible through the slash running down her side. It was a lethal blow, he was sure. Having pooled so much of her strength to restrain and take him down, those gargantuan defenses had been brought low enough for him to take her down. Her remaining leg had given out, but the remnants of her biotic barriers had still provided enough of a blunting effect that some of his cut's force had been transformed into a push that left her sprawled against the far wall of the room.

Emiya breathed deeply, taking controlled measures to calm himself down as the raging temperature spike in his blood made him feel as if his every exhalation was fire. Henell was bleeding out; helplessly sprawling on the ground and struggling to get up.

But she wasn't dead yet.

He raised the blade in his right hand, moving no closer as their eyes met. It would hit; she had no more strength to resist. Had she finally burned through herself? He no longer sensed the biotic fields around her.

That moment seemed to stretch on for several seconds, but then he broke it. There was nothing of Nirida Henell left in this creature. The arm came down, releasing the blade from his grip halfway through and sending it in a quarter-spin throw straight into her chest. Nailed to the wall through the heart by the white sword, Henell took her last breath... and stilled.

Exhaling, he relaxed.

Was that it?

A gurgling sound caught his attention, making him tense up. He turned his head to look around the room, until he found the source. One of the commandos was still alive, despite her throat having been ripped open and lying in a pool of blood.

He blinked, realizing that the commando must have seen everything. Frowning, he for just an instant thought about letting her die. But then he sighed and moved forward to save her. It was far too late to be worried about maintaining some semblance of secrecy now. Between all these commandos, there has to be a medigel pack somewhere here...

In truth, it had been too late for weeks now.

Which was why he had started to change his strategy entirely.

Because it wasn't as if there was some great meaning to any of it anymore. Just a reflex from a long time ago, from a world where he absolutely had to hide such things. Back during his life it had been very different from now; there were numerous authorities who wished to safeguard the secrecy of the moonlit world, to protect it from the ever-encroaching human order.

But here? What did it matter?

Especially if hiding it all meant that he could not save people. Silencing witnesses to safeguard the secrets of his power, which he used to save people, would be the very essence of putting the cart before the horse now.

Just old die-hard habits.

"Lie still, I'm not gonna let you die. Just relax, I've got you..." he said as he began to open up the commando's hardsuit to take a closer look at her wounds. Setting aside the black blade, he frowned. Her eyes were swimming. Lost and confused. No wonder, given how much blood she must have lost.

It was a conscious change in his strategy; to no longer hold back.

During his escape from Thessia, he had seen the sheer overwhelming amount of data the STG had compiled and labeled as possible actions he had committed in a mere five years. And it had been staggering. Exabytes upon exabytes of all kinds of data; video footage, financial transaction records, news articles from hundreds of planets and space stations. Much of it had nothing at all to do with him, had in fact occurred completely beyond his notice.

But it was the appearance that mattered. The appearance and possibility that it could have been him.

Five seconds, he reminded himself automatically.

It wouldn't be time enough for more than basic triage and applying medigel. With this much blood-loss, he would have to use at least two packs for blood replenishment and to seal her wounds it would take a third. The commando had only survived because of how poorly suited asari teeth and fingers were for tearing out throats.

But he had only found two packs. Should I seal the wound and risk shock, or use both for blood and let her bleed until I get back... The decision was easy. "—Trace, on"—begin projection,

In the era of medigel—and really, even long before humanity had created it—tourniquets and bandages were antiques of a long-bygone time. But while he couldn't whip medigel out of thin air, he could project those antiques.

Combining the two medigel packs as blood replenishment along with the bandages, it should be enough to save the commando's life. Still, it would take time for the medigel to be ready. He would have to come back after jumping back to his body to reset so that he could administer it.

What was wrong about using his abilities openly, if it meant that he could save people? If it meant he couldn't use such things, then obviously his strategy was wrong and it was missing the forest for the trees.

An old adage of strategy was to appear weak when strong, and strong when weak. It was what he had done on Thessia and during his life often enough; downplayed his own abilities; always kept one more ace in his sleeve; never giving it his all in case he would be revealing too much. But now that would be the wrong thing to do.

A lone man, facing the entire galaxy, the more he held back the more hard-pressed he would be. The more desperate he would grow. And the more they would be able to create a baseline of his abilities. Certainly, as he was cornered he would be able to reveal another trick and extricate himself once more...

But that would be too obvious. Too clear. Too easy to compile and contrast with what was known of him.

As a result, he would only be slowly showing his hand. One card at a time, until all that remained, was the ace of spades and he would have nowhere to go, nothing to retreat to, nothing to rely on. Once he had allowed himself to be backed into a corner, nothing would remain, but death.

Which by itself perhaps would have been acceptable, but there was more to it.

When strong, appear weak. To bait in an attack, to make your enemy overextend and reach beyond their grasp. Just like on Thessia, where they had only brought so much to bear and had not had the reserves to push him back once he ramped up. But now he was weaker. Both in relative and absolute terms.

Those who hunted him knew now more than they did before then, and he had crippled himself leaving Thessia.

When weak, appear strong.

If instead of attempting to appear completely normal, if extraordinarily skilled on occasion, he instead cut loose all restraints and fought as he wished? If he henceforth continued by pulling every trick and using every ace at will, seeking to never appear to use the same method twice... How could they categorize and analyze him then? If he held the appearance of someone who could do anything. If everything was his doing, then what recourse would that leave his pursuers? How did you fight that?

Without knowledge of what lay at the basis of his abilities—of projection, reinforcement, reality marbles... Of Unlimited Bladeworks. They would never be able to crack the puzzle that he was without an understanding of those things. And most importantly—if they did have an answer to him going all out... At least holding nothing back would allow him to save more lives and be defeated without regrets in the end.

As such, his new main stratagem was simple; be ridiculously flashy and hold nothing back, but avoid using the same trick twice.

"I'll be right back, so hang in there..." he said to the commando, standing up.

Her hand reached out just before he could step away, fingers wrapping weakly around his ankle. He paused, looking down at her. She was whispering something—mouthing silent words as her eyes bored into his. He tried to read her lips but found it difficult to make sense of her words, that amounted to little more than gibberish.

Shaking his head, he pulled his leg away and then frowned as he felt it. He turned around, sensing the re-kindled presence behind him.

Henell was staring right at him, trying to pull herself loose from the wall. He had to blink twice at her still struggling form, before scowling. This was starting to be all too reminiscent of some of the worst years of his life already. More than just infecting and converting innocents, she has the tenacity of a bloodsucker, too. I'm already two seconds over my deadline, but... I have to finish this now.

"If the heart won't do..."

He readied Kanshou, stalking forward. Behind him, the wounded asari was twitching on the floor and making intermittent gurgling sounds, desperately trying to grab his leg again but failing in her weakness.

"Aaaaaaaaaa..." Henell began to moan, her voice starting low and building up, despite the black blood spurting out of her wounds as she did so.

Emiya paused, raising the black blade in a guard as his gut instincts screamed danger at him. There was nothing more dangerous than a cornered beast on its last leg. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned and took a step forward. Kill her.

"AAAAaaAAAAAAAAAAaaAA̷A҉..."

"What the..." He winced, taking an involuntary step backward, pausing to grit his teeth. His vision was doubling as the floor seemed to sway beneath him. What is this...?

"AA͜A̴A̕A͜A̴A̹̩̼ͅA̧̛̗͎̟̳͢A̴Ą̨̱̪A͙̖̕A̧̛̗͎̟̳͢A̴Ą̨̱̪A͙̖̕A̷̧̧̫̫͇̩̥͈͇̪̯̗͉̹͇̖̐̑͑̎̄̄͊͒́̄̀͌̋̊͋͑ͣ͘ͅĄ̴̢͙̼̬̪̘͙̀͆̇̅̕A͙̖̕A̢̳̱̬̼̜ͮ̋͂̄͛͌̓̒̈́̓̌̀̓̄̔͟A̟̩̻̗̠ͩ͑ͭ͘͝—!"

Gritting his teeth h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ raised his sword and took the last two s҉t̨ep͘s̨ forward to finish this, ignoring his overwhelmed senses. The sword came down—

Something tipped over and the world tumbled. H̷̢̀è͝ was lying on the floor, he realized belatedly, his head pounding no longer with just the piercing cry of Henell. Had h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ fallen over, or...? No, h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ was hit from behind by someone. By a biotic attack. The wounded commando... How... Did she use a Throw on me in her state...? Damn, it...

It must have taken the last of her strength, as she was lying still and lifeless now.

There was a strange tearing sound. Unnatural and grotesque, that of something that should not be shredded being torn apart forcefully. H̷̢̀è͝ got an arm beneath himself and pushed up, looking at the so͞ur͝ce͝ of the s̷o͏u̸n̛d.

Henell had ripped herself loose, pulling her chest over the hilt of the sword and coating it in bits of bloated organs and black blood.

She was coming for him now, turning around to look at him with those empty eyes. H̷̢̀è͝ couldn't muster the strength to get up, h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ realized with a mi̶nd like m͠ol̶a͠s͢s͘es. That continued s̸cr̢ea͏m͞ was giving him no respite, h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ needed to...

Astralizing, his ephemeral self fell through the floor.

And another, and another.

It was only by some stray thought h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ realized that h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ needed to stop before h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ flew through the outer hull. As h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ materialized anew and impacted against the floor seven levels down, h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ breathed unevenly, desperately trying to gather his wits. I need to... return. body.

It took agonizing seconds to find the nearest camera and jump in but after that, it was a thankfully easy matter to simply slide back through the open connection to his cybernetics and his body. Something tried to impede him for a moment, but he forcefully moved past it in his hurry. Only where h̬̫̳͕e̞̗̤̠͍̖ͅ had been expecting a return to normalcy, there was just the jostling of being carried, along with the haggard breaths of Shepard next to his ear.

That, and the distant keening cry not far behind them.

;

Shepard panted, hauling Emiya on her shoulders as she slammed her fist down on the lockdown interface, shutting another door behind them.

"Aaaaaaaaahhh..."

She could still hear them behind her, looking for her and Emiya. It had been one thing when it had been a lone asari; one she had been able to fool into getting close enough for a quick takedown...

But with three of them and another one of those twisted creatures? The one she had bound down having been able to rip her uniform jacket to shreds to break free now, with her skin turning that same putrid gray and her limbs contorting and stretching out to match that one Emiya had been struggling with?

Some odds just weren't worth taking, especially since Emiya's unconscious ass had still been there. So she had beaten a retreat. She'd managed to give them the slip, but she wasn't sure how long that would last. They seemed able to follow her trail somehow, forcing her to keep moving. Her leg ached, and she wasn't sure whether it was that or her just post-operation exhaustion coupled with carrying Emiya, but she felt sick to the bottom of her stomach. The cold sweat felt clammy against her skin, as her breaths came short and shallow.

"What the hell is going on..." she complained, moving to set Emiya down against the wall and then slumping down next to him.

"Guh..."

"Huh, Emiya?!" She turned around, blinking as she realized he was back again.

He groaned again, raising a hand to his forehead and rubbing hard. As if he was just waking up from a hangover after a week-long drinking binge, his skin was pale and his breathing labored.

"What happened? Did you get her?"

Shaking his head slowly, he said nothing. Still keeping his eyes closed, he seemed to be focusing on his breathing. Slowly, his breaths began to even out and become longer, and with the effort his pallid complexion began to improve. She sat there quietly for several minutes, focusing on trying to recover some of her own strength as well. At this rate, I really might risk organ rejection... And my leg really isn't helping.

Unarmed, wearing only her dress uniform and effectively alone, she was kind of in the shit.

Which was why she had shut up and refrained from arguing with Emiya when he had started ordering her around. But it looks like things didn't work out so neatly as he had expected.

"Hey."

He exhaled, finally opening his eyes after minutes of silence. "What time is it? How long was I out...?"

She frowned. That's not good.

"It's 18:32, fleet time. If that means anything to you... What happened?"

Emiya scowled, opening his eyes wearily and looking around. "There were... complications. Where are we?"

She frowned, before shrugging. But seeing as how he wasn't looking her way, she sighed and spoke. "I have no idea. Asari build their ships weird. And what do you mean, 'complications'?"

Getting up, he shook his head while flexing his fingers. As if checking himself for damage, or seeing whether everything was still there. He seemed inordinately intrigued by his hands, all of a sudden.

As if something was wrong with them. Like the sensations of his own body weren't quite familiar, or as if there was something there that he hadn't noticed before.

Finally, he spoke. "...Be careful of that scream. Don't get too close to them."

She stared at him. "Yeah, I got that myself, thanks. Makes your skin crawl, just hearing it, and you can't move." There was more; something he wasn't telling her. Hesitating for just a moment, she asked finally, "Are you okay?"

He turned to look at her, frowning. "...I'll live. You?"

"I'll live," she shot back, tone equally dismissive of her current condition as he was. If he could pull the macho-act, then he couldn't complain if she did the same.

Staring down at her, he said nothing. He had told her to get out; to get to the other Alliance officers, but she had ignored him completely. It wasn't as if he was her superior officer, and she had essentially saved his ass, and they both knew it. But there was still that unresolved question of the nature of their relationship now.

For all his candidness regarding any questions she posed, she knew there were a dozen other things he wasn't telling her. And he knew that she knew, leaving them in a strange equilibrium. Had her refusing to follow his lead now tilted that delicate balance of trust? He hadn't said anything about it, but she still worried.

But as he extended a hand down to help her up: "Thanks."

Shepard blinked and realized it was a needless worry, nodding back her own appreciation. Apparently not.

"Shouldn't you be doing that thing right now, if she's still running around?" she asked, accepting the arm and letting herself get pulled up. Nausea welled up, as she felt the broken remains of her knee grinding at the motion. It just doesn't get any easier, does it?

But she ignored it, continuing. "You know, that double body-thing, whatever it was."

"I was too careless and... ran out of fuel. Or something to that effect," he said shaking his head. "But I crippled Henell in return for it. She won't be jumping around anymore at least."

For a moment she worried about that, how his eyes didn't seem to be able to look at anything and how he was slightly swaying. But seeing as he seemed more annoyed and worried than anything else, she figured he shouldn't have hurt himself too badly. "Right, think it's about time we called in the cavalry. Can you patch me through to the Alliance ships?"

He looked up, alarm obvious.

"That, would be a terrible idea," he said and Shepard frowned, narrowing her eyes at him for doubting their ability. "Whatever it was that happened to Henell on Torfan, it's at work here too. If we can't detect or prevent it from happening, then maintaining a quarantine is imperative."

"Wait, what do you mean?" She blinked, losing track of the conversation.

"I mean that while the creature Henell has turned into is the biggest immediate problem, the reason the asari are struggling to contain this situation is because more and more of their crew are turning on them." He paused for effect. "If we bring in more people, then all that might well do is give Henell more numbers to draw on and the bigger of a mess we'll have to deal with. Already I'll probably have to go through a few hundred asari, just as it is."

Shepard nodded slowly, eyes wide. "Alright, alright... I get it. But, how do we stop them? You look like you're about to fall over where you are and I'm..."

He looked at her as she trailed off, eyes weary but far from giving up. The silence stretched out for a long moment until he finally sighed. "I can still handle Henell."

Shepard frowned, nodding. "Then what about the other one?"

"The other one?" he asked, eyes wide before he frowned. "What other one?"

She blinked, staring at him now. "The one who showed up before, who I tied up with my jacket, remember?"

Crossing his brows, he looked away as he tried to remember. As his eyes went distant again, she realized he was doing his hacking thing as well. He blinked, his expression changing instantly. "Tch, now there's two of them?"

But then he paused, thoughtful.

"Only two? That's peculiar. Why would there only be two of them?" He frowned, turning to Shepard. "What happened?"

"After you left, she broke loose. Without a gun, there wasn't much that could be done, so I grabbed you and came here. I thought the jacket would at least restrain her, but she broke through it like wet paper when she started turning into that thing."

She shook her head. That jacket had been fairly expensive, too.

Emiya nodded at her explanation, cupping his chin in thought as he muttered quietly. "Is she on the Ardat Yakshi spectrum as well? There's nothing in her medical files... But she's unmarried, with nothing hinting at previous relationships..."

Shepard blinked, suddenly remembering something. "That black thing, that has to be it."

"Hmm?"

"The asari that turned into one of those creatures... She had something in her back, inside of her," Shepard explained, looking up at Emiya who was frowning now. She hastened to explain, "It wasn't bleeding like should have. It felt like the thing was rooted in her, somehow." She nodded again, certain of it now. "That's gotta be what turned her into that thing."

Emiya was quiet, staring at her with narrowed eyes and unseeing eyes. He was doing that thing again, she realized.

"Henell was stabbed, too." He muttered quietly, nodding at her words and confirming her suspicion. He looked up. "What were you doing right before I showed up? Were you trying to remove that thing right then?"

"That's right." Shepard nodded.

"Hmm, okay..."

"'Hmm, okay', what? You have a plan?" She was starting to get annoyed with him now. Back in basic, his reticence had been fine because she figured he knew better and it would take too long to explain.

But now...

If nothing had changed, what had she been working towards all this time?

He looked at her, blinking twice as if only just now remembering her presence. "...The beginnings of one. But," he said and sighed. A second later the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. "It looks like we're starting to run out of time. The emergency power just ran out, and the life-support systems won't be far behind. They'll be aiming to decompress the whole ship next, most likely."

"Can't you do something about that? You're a big-shot hacker, aren't you?" She frowned.

"I was doing something," he shot back, with some annoyance seeping through in his voice, though it wasn't directed at her per se. "But they took down the power—it's all offline, now."

"Right, okay yeah." She nodded. That would do it, she supposed.

"Right. Come on, let's move."

She looked up and frowned at him. He had turned his back to her, holding his arms out as if...

"What, you're going to carry me now?" She couldn't quite keep the exasperation out of her voice.

"It's piggyback," he looked over his shoulder, raising an amused brow at her indignation, "or potato-sack. Your choice."

She glared at him, considering for just a moment arguing that she could walk just fine. That she had been carrying him until now, meaning—Huh, I did carry him. So it's fair.

"Alright, sure. I can't exactly cover you without a gun though." Emiya blinked at her sudden change of mind, slightly taken aback as she hopped on his back without further ado.

She took a moment to inspect how solid his back was, more surprised than anything. It was like he was tensing his entire upper body, or as if he couldn't relax.

"Where are we going?"

"The armory two levels above. There's a group of commandos holed up there, keeping it locked down. We'll need to gear up; get some explosives," he answered as he started to move, dashing down the corridor as if she weighed nothing at all.

Sure she had a broken leg she could use as an excuse, but even with her physical conditioning and gene-mods, she had struggled to move at a decent pace while carrying him before. "Guess those arms weren't just for show, huh."

"Hmm?"

"It's nothing. And watch the ceiling there big guy — if you bump my head, I'll bite your ear off."

He snorted, and she could feel the tension melting away from his shoulders.

;

Arnaut Kyle frowned, shaking his head.

"What do you mean the comms are down?"

The communications officer licked his lips, suddenly nervous at being stared down by the major. "Sir, that's just..."

"What about the away party?"

"Most of them have returned, but six still remain onboard the Dreyn N'var, sir." Relieved at being able to actually be able to report something of value, the sitting man spoke quickly. "Commander Boroffs, Lieutenant Smithwill, Lieutenant Shepard—"

"Shepard...?" Kyle interrupted, blinking as he drew back. "Why is she up and about?"

The officer, not having any knowledge about Shepard's operation and the like, merely licked his lips again.

"Did the asari say anything?" Kyle questioned. "Anything at all?"

"They said they were having some technical problems, informing us that away party would be returning shortly. Since then, they haven't said a word beyond assuring us that everything is under control."

"While the whole cruiser has gone into lockdown? With their reactor offline? That does not make any sense. Then what about the away party, have they sent any word on short-range transmissions?"

"Ah, no sir. The ablative plating on the cruiser's hull would degrade the signal too much."

He frowned, shaking his head as he turned his back to the officer and stalked away from the CIC. There was no use talking to him, since he obviously didn't know a damn thing about what was going on aboard the Dreyn N'var.

What is happening there...? Until mere minutes ago, the asari starship's communications had been assuring them that there was no problem, and that there was no need for concern. But that was obviously not the case. Not with the whole damn ship now having gone dark.

But it was not as if they could board the cruiser and find out, either. Not without some form of leave given by the asari aboard.

"It's that Alliance Intelligence operative... He's behind this, somehow. I know it...!"

What was his plan? I need to get onboard, somehow. Why had he approached Shepard of all people? Maybe I can convince the general to let me lead a boarding party... Why was he hunting for a Citadel hacker out here in the Attican Traverse? Phrase it as an investigation and aid attempt now that communications have been cut. How were the asari related to all this?

None of it made sense to him.

But it would. Of that he was going to make certain.

;

Thanks to Olive Birdy and Dumdum for proofreading! Thanks to Tolack for pointing plot stuff out!

Another one of those chapters I wrote, and then re-wrote and then re-wrote again. Had a plan for it, but the more I work on it the less I like the chapter itself. So meh, will have to do so I can just keep moving.