Captain Varn had insisted I go along with him on his Quixotic quest to find Drisk. I know Ezio and the gang had been assigned the followup on the whole Blood Pack Contract mission, but I have no idea how that eventually went down; compartmentalized intelligence and all. I suppose I should count myself lucky that Varn hadn't insisted on restraining me in some way, but that didn't change my overall mood. I was still being taken back to Illium, and that was reason enough for me to sulk.

The vehicle we had...valorized for this mission was an older human Themis cargo tramp freighter. It had a few alien markings in eye-catching fluorescent green and red, but otherwise was indistinguishable from any of the thousands of interstellar Big-rigs plying the spaceways. The rear cab was rather spacious and poshly appointed for a utility transport. I imagined the ship belonged to someone who spent a great deal of time on board for work; that, or this was the Citadel equivalent of a shaggin-wagon.

Still, there was one thing about the shuttle that was very familiar; it was slow, and the trip to Illium was going to take a couple of days. I decided to pass the time by rummaging around for something that could be useful in helping me survive; Illium had already tried to kill me twice, and I had no intention of giving it a Hat Trick.

I managed to open a utility bench interface; it seemed to serve as a combination of personal computer and maintenance workbench. The workbench function had a number of fabrication programs; not up to the Play Pen's standards back on the Spirit, but enough to allow the ship's owner to fabricate most parts they'd need to make minor ship repairs. The PC function had a number of files on the desktop, and I opened one out of curiosity.

I gingerly stood up and looked around the cab in concern. "Hey Varn, you wouldn't happen to have a UV lamp function on your fancy Omni, would you?"

He gave a tired huff and came into the passenger area. "Yes, yes, I have a flashlight. They are very useful in-" He turned the light and panned it around the cab. "We may have a problem. I'll need to open an investigation into whoever owns this transport."

I scowled in distaste at the various...artifacts illuminated by the UV lamp. "The only problem we have is finding a clean surface to sit on." I nodded at the terminal. "The owner has 138 back issues of Fornax loaded on that thing. Help me find some bleach."

We spent the next two hours sterilizing every interior surface. "Why are all rutting breeders so vile?" Saelen frowned as he stuffed the last of the bed linens into the workstation recycler.

I pointed at him with a spray bottle of disinfectant. "Hey, go blaming us. You're the one who decided to boost the Skeevy Free-Candy Van." I gave the bench one more swipe and stood up. "There; maybe now I can get down to work."

"What work?" He must have been as bored as I was; that or he was just being a spy.

I opened the fabrication matrix and began typing. "Tinkering. I'm bored, and when I get bored, I tinker."

"Tinker?" I could hear the confusion in his tone.

I reviewed the stored materials and checked on the limits of the machining capabilities. "Yeah, tinker; futz, fidget. It's a long trip, and I need to keep busy or I'll go stir crazy."

Varn growled slightly. "Now you're just making up nonsense words."

I opened the PC function and found there was an industrial design simulator for testing designs before building. "Tinker comes from middle English, I think. It's from an onomatopoeia for someone banging on a sheet of metal, and meant someone who was an unskilled metal worker, or the act of doing so." I began drawing up the design that I desperately hoped wouldn't explode in my face; it wasn't like I could test it for real. "In modern english, it means a hobby craftsman, or doing minor repairs and improvements on equipment."

I looked back and saw him blinking owlishly at me before his horns vibrated and he glared at me. "You know what would make this trip go faster?" I spun around and looked curiously at him. "If we had a Hyrax shuttle." He spun on his heel and stalked back to the control cabin.

I chuckled and turned back to the bench. He isn't wrong. Shaking my head, I went back to work.

I was finished tinkering a few hours before we landed at the aerodrome in Seafos Valley. The pistol I made was a relatively simple single shot design; the only moving parts were the rolling block breech and trigger assembly. The power came from the ammunition, which took the longest to make. It was chemically very simple, but nightmarishly volatile if not handled correctly. Juan would likely kick my ass when he found out I was messing with Hexanitrobenzene. At the end, I had ten shots in a pistol that would provide a very rude surprise for anyone reliant on Kinetic barriers for defense.

The other weapon I fabbed up was what the Spirit Sword Club had dubbed a 'Heavy-Saber'. Even in this bizarre world, nobody wanted to risk the Walt Disney company coming after us for Copyright Infringement. It did conveniently collapse into something the size of an old style C-Cell battery Maglite, and would last for around ten minutes of melee.

The last bit I made was a simple low visibility armored vest. It wouldn't stop a direct hit with a military grade mass-driver rifle, but it would buy me a fighting chance against the kind of firepower I expected to face in a seedy dive on Illium.

A settled into the copilot's station and passed a ration bar and a water bottle to Saelen.

"You're finally done?" There was a little heat in his voice.

"Would you have rather I sat up here with you singing 'The wheels on the Bus' or playing 'I Spy' for 52 hours?"

He huffed, took his repast and headed back to get an hour of sleep before the auto pilot brought us into Illium's orbit. Saelen contacted traffic control and had the kind of awkward, stilted conversation you expect of movie spys giving pass codes. It felt very similar to my last trip here with Lee. I just hoped it wouldn't be nearly that exciting.

"So do you have a plan for this, or are you just going to saunter in there and say, 'I'm Saelen Varn. Drisk wanted to see me'?"

He gave me a wry smile. "Something like that, yes."

The Valley region was no less sweltering than Nos Astra, just more humid. Varn seemed to not mind, even draped in an impromptu 'Dalatrass' disguise. I was wearing a heavy animal hide jacket we had found in the ship's locker and carrying a hat box with the last of our food and water so it had the heft of a head in a box.

We sauntered into the Starfire Lounge and made our way back to a semi private booth. Varn pulled his robes a little tighter while I relished the blast of air conditioned bliss. A serving maiden came up to us wearing something more appropriate for the outside weather. "Welcome to Starfire! I'm C'Ndee; can you get us anything?"

I glanced over at Varn who gave the faintest of haughty nods. I looked back at 'Candy' and put on my worst wise-guy accent. "Yeah, two glasses of water and Drisk."

Her demeanor shifted from perky to fearful in a second. "Oh, yes. Right away."

I leaned back and scanned the crowd. "Well, at least we know he's here."

"Yes," Saelen kept his voice low, "the trick is to get him out past the Civil Protection teams."

I scowled at the memory of being chased by Illiium's 'Gestapo'.

Varn shifted slightly as a Batarian walked over to the table. "You have something for me?"

"Depends," I shrugged while glancing at the hat box on the table, "you still paying for Salarian heads?"

Drisk kept two eyes on me as he looked at the box with the other two. "Depends on the head. Who's the Dal?" His gaze flickered to my temporary partner.

I nodded at the box. "Captain Saelen Varn of the STG, and this is someone with a vested interest in Varn's...disposition"

Drisk licked his lips and looked fully at me. "Yeah, there might be a payday there. I just gotta confirm the head."

As he reached for the box, Saelen threw his hood back and leveled a pistol at him while I reached over and seized the back of Drisk's collar. "Sure you can, but I have it on the best authority that this is Varn's head." I nodded at the Captain. "I hope you don't mind, but decapitation is so messy. Anyway, do I still get paid?"

I take solace that the event that followed caught Varn flat footed as well, as the clawed hand of a Krogan grabbed me by the shoulder and tossed me across the room. My grip on Drisk slipped mid flight, and we landed side by side on the dancing-girls' platform. I rolled right to avoid the charging Krogan as Drisk rolled left and bolted deeper into the club.

Varn was close on his heels. "Keep him occupied; I'm going after Drisk!"

"Occupied?!" Everyone was rushing for the exits as the Krogan charged again, this time headbuting me in the chest and sending me sprawling onto the floor.

He stomped up and planted a foot on my stomach, then leaned in. My armor prevented him from crushing my liver, but I couldn't breathe with him standing on me. I desperately grasped for one of my weapons.

"I'm gonna squash you into sausage filling, then bite your little Salarian's oAHHHH! -VMMM-hissssssss- My quad!"

A funny thing about cold plasma, is that it isn't. The interior gas nucleus cloud stays at room temperature, but the outer electron shell of the plasma is hotter than the sun. Those of us members of the Spirit's Sword Club had learned how to make a cold plasma sword using a core Ferro-nanotube jacketed Carbonfiber rod. My preferred design used two prongs near the grip both to insulate my hands, and shape the plasma into a longsword shape; a shape I had just used to lash out at my attacker's groin.

He staggered back and tripped over a booth while I coughed and slowly stood up. I was just getting my wind back when my dance partner stood back up and glared balefully at me. I settled into a more formal sword stance and glared back at him. "How much are you getting paid?"

The Krogan stared cross eyed at the glowing white brand pointing at him. "Not nearly enough to lose a quad over."

I nodded to the exit. "Then might I suggest you head behind the bar, grab yourself a severance package and call it a day. Drisk isn't going to be signing any more paychecks."

The small bull klacked his jaw shut. "Hell, that's a better deal than Drisk offered me." He hobbled over to the bar and began loading up on bottles. Once he was staggering out the door, I shut my sword off to conserve power and headed for the back.

I found Varn staring at Drisk through some barrier. "Ha! You don't know who you're messing with! I have friends in the Civil Protection Force, the Terminus Pirates, some even your precious STG hasn't heard of! When I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to put you up on the slave blocks! Hahahahaha!"

I looked over at Varn, who scowled balefully at Drisk. "Kinetic Barrier is vehicle grade," he flicked his coat tail at it, causing it to spark, "and actively charged. The device itself is analogue controlled; no possibility to hack it."

I looked into the room and saw Drisk standing next to a whirring, glowing generator-ish device with several switches on top. I pulled out my pistol and loaded a round. "That it?"

"Hahaha! Isn't it wonderful?!" Drisk gloated. "It's a gift from my newest benefactors; completely impervious to modern intrusion and-" -FZACK- "Ah!" He dove away as the generator suddenly developed a 5mm molten hole and began sparking and shaking. Moments later, both it and his shield died.

Varn rushed in and tackled Drisk to the floor. Once restrained (and gagged) he looked at the pistol in my hand.

I calmly cleared the breech and loaded another shell. "Explosive Pumped Gas Dynamic Laser. My people have had designs for them since the 1970's, but the material engineering was never up to snuff." I holstered the weapon and stepped aside. "We should leave before any of Drisk's supposed 'friends' shows up."

We were dragging Drisk behind us through the lobby on a pallet dolly when the main entrance was blocked by four figures.

"I'm afraid I can't let you take him, Bon ami."

I nearly choked at the familiar voice, as a stocky woman stepped forward. "Put the Batarian back where you found him, and we might let you off with a little rough treatment." She and a second male both cracked their knuckles.

Varn was shifting to go for his gun when my hands flopped to my sides. "Ezio? Battery?"

Battery blinked in the poor lighting and squinted. "Hira...Goddamnit!" she threw her hands in the air in frustration while Rambro all but collapsed on the ground in laughter.

We all sat at one of the round booths. "So Drisk is one of ours now?" I had dropped all pretense by this point, as the Ghosts with me were equally candid in Captain Varn's presence.

"Oui, flipped like a coin once we got our hands on him." The entire team chuckled while sipping drinks. Drisk was still restrained on the cart, glaring daggers at everyone present. Ezio looked over at Varn. "I must say Mon ami, you led us on a merry chase that day." He saluted the STG Captain with a glass of wine.

Varn sulked over his glass of beer. I'm certain he'd say he was 'brooding', or 'considering his options', but he was sulking. "So glad I provided you with such good sport." He finished his drink. "So now what. You won't let me take one of your assets, and my career is on the line with getting these answers."

Ezio smiled graciously. "Bon ami, what he knows," he gestured towards Drisk, "I know. And I already know the answer to your question, so we need only a little reciprocity from you and you can walk away from here with the information you seek."

I finished my drink and stood up. "This conversation started above my paygrade, and if it goes any higher I'll be able to catch a ride on a passing comet." I looked over to Varn. "I take it you're going to keep the Free-Candy-Van?" He frowned in distaste, but nodded. "That's fine. The designs for the pistol are still in the Work Bench; just make sure you wipe it before you leave it to be recovered."

"The data, or the bench itself?" His lips almost tugged at something resembling a grin.

"Both, just to be sure." I looked over at Ezio. "And that means I need a ride back to the Citadel to get the rest of my crew back."

Every member of GT Ezio glanced at each other; Ezio nodded to Min Ji and Rambro who stood and led me towards the exit. "Come on boet; getting the rest of Jawa isn't your job, and we need to make a supply run anyway."

Min Ji put a gentle but firm hand on my back. "You still need a formal debrief, and there's a lot that has happened since you were back on station."

I didn't resist as they led me out, though I did look back and forth between them. "I've been gone two weeks; how much can have happened?"

A/N: Not much to say, other than sorry it has taken so long since the last upload continuing Hirams story; or any of the side stories. This has been 100% on me, not Ian or MP07 or anyone else, for not getting around to uploading these; mostly because I've been a little burned out regarding Fanfiction as of late.

But I feel better now, So I encourage you guys to go check out the main story; A Ghost and A Spectre, and the other story I have Co-written with Ian, A Half Life-Mass Effect Crossover First Contact AU. HL:E is uploaded on Wednesdays, and AGAS is uploaded on Fridays; both at around 11 AM EST.

I hope you've all enjoyed Ians latest chapter; and I will see ya when I see ya.