Notes:

CIC - Combat Information Center

OPSEC - Operations security

OSD - Optical Storage Device

Siame - "one who is all", a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian/Source: CDN)

The Dominoes Fall

Normandy SR2, Phoenix Massing, At Large – 24 Oct 2188

Lieutenant Commander Rensch and Commander Williams had just completed updating their status reports concerning the rebellious Quarian fleet when they received a five-minute warning call from the bridge. "Relay alignment 98 percent complete, Commander. Standing by."

Ashley acknowledged Edi's warning before telling her XO, "Looks like we're as ready as we can be, LC. If we can pull this off, we'll have a much easier time tracking the Nalotir or any other ship capable of cloaking. Be ready." The Spectre turned and strode past the galaxy map display on her way to the bridge; she wanted to personally view the ship or ships about to exit the space-time corridor from Sahrabarik.

Upon entering the control deck, she stepped to the right in order to stand behind Edi's chair. She had no need to check the countdown timer on her omnitool; the increasing rotational velocity of the gigantic containment rings and the growing intensity of the massive Eezo core – magnetically suspended within the paired rings – confirmed the relay's realignment as complete. Once the intense blue glow had increased to a white-hot brilliance, blue-white ribbons of raw, dark energy surrounded and caressed the ancient structure for several moments before abruptly reaching off into a seemingly infinite distance – there to engulf an imperceptible speck that instantly grew in size as it approached and quickly decelerated from FTL to a seeming standstill beside the rapidly spinning containment rings.

Continuing to move past the control section of the relay, the Normandy's passive scans identified the vessel as the Nalotir. "Gotcha," muttered Ashley, watching through the forward viewports. As the Quarian ship began its turn to cross beyond the relay, its structure appeared to blur for just a moment before it faded completely from view. "I'll be damned… they really do possess the technology."

Edi had been working through a series of haptic control panels from the time the Nalotir had appeared; she entered her final command, then inclined her head to look at Ashley as she turned her chair towards the center aisle. "Now that I know what to look for, we can track that ship just as well as if it were visible. The cloaking device they employ is actually a form of shielding… using a series of electro-magnetically stimulated prisms on the hull to… bend… reflected light, effectively rendering the ship invisible to the naked eye. However, the light-bending effects can camouflage neither their heat emissions, nor the rippling void created by the ship's presence in the vacuum of space. They seem to possess extremely efficient exhaust coolers, and they probably use rather massive internal heat sinks to absorb excess heat while they're so camouflaged; this is not unlike our own onboard stealth systems. That said, the ship's thrusters are still hot; I am now scanning in the infrared wavelengths."

Joker split his attention between Edi and his captain while quietly monitoring the Nalotir's departure vector. "Ma'am? Should we follow?"

For the first time, Ashley truly understood why the Normandy had originally been designated as a scout flotilla asset, rather than a war frigate. As the sole vessel in her class, the ship's technology would have been a huge advantage for stealth monitoring of space forces… and a chill ran down Ashley's spine as she realized former Admiral Mikhailovich could have used the Normandy to monitor any forces… not necessarily just those of the enemy. She nodded as she shifted her attention to the Flight Lieutenant. "Set your course and begin following, Joker… no closer than the far range of our scanners; implement our silent running protocol… I don't want them to detect us, and I certainly don't want them to discover we can track them."

"You got it, Ma'am," came the response. He began entering commands into a multitude of Haptic interfaces, quickly pulling them up and just as quickly dismissing them. The frigate responded by smoothly moving to follow the path of the Quarian ship.

Atlas Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 24 Oct 2188

"She what!?" Valérie Corbett reacted to the information bomb Zoë had just dropped on everyone in attendance.

Zoë, sitting at the end of the conference table, smirked as she said, "She folded like a house of cards, Valérie. According to Tim, after his incomplete physical search shook Häberli up so badly, the colonel played her like a trout. By the time Culver was done, that damned traitor would have offered her own mother up as a Batarian slave."

"There's a reason Colonel Culver was selected as the Spec Ops lead, that's for sure; she's excellent at what she does." Stafford leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and said, "Gave us an entirely new avenue to pursue. Häberli received her marching orders from Marine Master Sergeant Matthias Scholtz. It appears that Scholtz really is all kinds of dirty, Jana. You'll remember he was responsible for assigning Corporal Owen Hamilton as Hackett's escort." Tim looked down at the data pad he was using; after scrolling through a bit of the information, he added, "Before today, I wasn't sure that Scholtz was holding Häberli's leash, but after listening to Häberli singing like a damned canary, there's no longer any room for doubt."

Zoë's mouth was set in a straight, grim line as she nodded before saying, "Apparently, Scholtz answers to an Earth-based Navy commander, name of Seth McKay. Tim, work with Valérie… find out everything you can regarding the possible identity of McKay's handler… he has to be getting his marching orders from someone higher up the chain. Whoever it is, they're all dirty… and I'll bet every credit I possess that Shepard doesn't want us to give up on the hunt until we reach the very peak of the pyramid." Zoë's eyes flashed with barely controlled anger. "We haven't reached the top yet, folks, though I honestly believe Shepard will cut us a bit more slack from here on out, since we were able to prove Häberli's role in this conspiracy. All we need to do now is identify their leader; giving that name to the Spectre should buy us a bit more grace."

Shadow Broker Vessel Chiroquol, At Large – 25 Oct 2188

Barla Von, like most members of the Volus race, was a meticulous researcher; having a background as a financial advisor plying his trade on the Citadel before the Reaper War, he had been quite adept at moving large sums of credits without leaving a data trail. The experience gained in the Financial District of the Presidium now served him well as he painstakingly hunted for the inexorable trails left by numerous transactions initiated to pay for the assassinations of four high-ranking Humans during the rededication of the Alliance headquarters in Vancouver.

He had already made excellent progress in identifying some of the multiple sources of the extravagant payments made to Walker and Klein for their parts in the conspiracy but had hit a wall… around which he had yet to find a way forward. With the added details from the investigative financial report from Atlas, forwarded to him by Riana Iregos, the rotund Volus finally found the crack in their cover trail. The unnamed Atlas researcher had been exceedingly thorough; a portion of Klein's credit could be proved as having been dispersed by Seth McKay… who, in turn, had received an unusually large stipend from Charles Saracino. Although this was very likely the link that Spectre Shepard was looking for, Barla Von felt he required more substantial evidence before presenting the information as fact. Besides… that's only a part of the payment. The question now is where the rest came from.

Thanks to the Alliance Special Operations' discoveries, the Volus was also closing in on whoever had paid Douglas Walker for his services. As Walker was in custody and Klein was dead, it would be a relatively simple matter to have Shepard issue a confiscation order for the funds. The Volus thought it highly ironic that, as highly successful as both men were at their craft, neither had succeeded in their individual attempts to kill two highly placed Alliance officials. That's it! came the thought. Neither succeeded. In all likelihood, they would have been expecting a completion bonus. Those credits would have been electronically sent to a holding account… an account that should now be empty. Those funds can be traced back to their source when the accounts are credited! The Volus went back to work with a renewed sense of purpose… and direction.

Special Operations Center, Earth, Sol – 26 Oct 2188

Colonel Culver glowered as she disconnected the second call from her friend regarding the assassination plot; she was beginning to seriously wonder if her entire career had been wasted, unknowingly spending her lifetime serving xenophobes and megalomaniacs. "What the fuck is going on?" she asked the empty space around her. "How are these people even in the Alliance?"

She shook her head as she stood from her desk, knowing the answer to the questions she had asked of no one in particular. Because they are being misguided and protected by someone higher than them in the chain. Scoffing in disgust, she opened a comm link on her omnitool. "Blaze, prep the team; we're headed back to Vancouver to pick up another one…"

A somewhat surprised voice answered back, "We?"

"Yes, we." Sharon snatched up her deployment bag as she waited for her office door to slide open; she was through and starting to stride purposefully toward the docks before the door had completely retracted, much less closed behind her. "I'll fill you in once we get underway."

Once the team was on the Kodiak and they were airborne, Sharon explained what they were doing. "Once we get Commander McKay locked down, Shepard will meet us at the training center… in the interrogations rooms."

"But this is anything but training." Blaze's voice held unchecked contempt. "These treasonous bastards accepted money for murder… so why in Hell does it take a Spectre to ferret them out and keep them in check? Just what on earth is our senior command doing?"

"Still reeling from the Reaper War, ongoing recovery efforts, and assassinations." Culver shrugged her shoulders and continued, "Even I find it hard to believe this conspiracy involves so many people in the Headquarters. I think we've simply had our heads buried in the sand, Blaze… relieved the Reaper War is over, glad the Illusive Man is now a dead madman with no surviving indoctrinated soldiers, and trying to convince ourselves that LEAP is just a fringe organization with a few radical fanatics. We've been focused on rebuilding… all while being completely blind to the people who are trying to tear us apart from within."

"So, with the help of Spectre Shepard, we're gonna fix it. Right, Ma'am?" Lieutenant Bewick growled, "Though, I think it would be a lot easier if you just let me plink him; eye for an eye, from 1000 meters."

The surveillance expert, Specialist Cliff Etulain, chuckled at the idea. "That'd be really sweet… especially if you use one of your explosive rounds… but kind of hard to ask him questions after that. And, I'm pretty sure there's nothing about McKay that screams he's the big honcho of this operation."

"You've got that right, Cliff," Culver chuckled in response. "So, we're going to find out just who in Hell is."

Vancouver, Earth, Sol – 26 Oct 2188

Culver and Blaze caught up to McKay just as he arrived home from work and opened his front door. He greeted the unknown Marines with caution. "Colonel? What can I do for you?"

"Name's Sharon Culver, commander of Special Ops, and I need to speak with you privately… and we need to get you off the street. Can we step inside please?"

McKay was both surprised and wary. "What do you mean 'off the street'?

"I mean that quite literally." Culver shoved him backwards through the doorway into his home and followed him in, Blaze trailing behind and closing the door after he entered. Sharon spoke quickly. "We have received what we consider to be a valid threat on your life, Commander. Given recent events, we decided to err on the side of caution. Do you have any meetings or appointments coming up in the next couple days? Anything that could expose you to people outside of Alliance command? People you wouldn't normally be in contact with?"

"No, no one that I can think of." McKay's wariness shifted to concern. "Is that important?"

"Well, crap." Culver glanced at her team lead. "If Commander McKay isn't going out, the assassin is probably planning on coming here."

"What information, exactly, do you have?" McKay looked at the colonel as if she had gone mad. "Who in Hell would want to kill me?"

"That's why we're here… because I don't know who wants you dead, and we need to sit down and figure it out, preferably before they manage to get to you." Culver's brow furrowed as she continued, "Someone has a problem with your section, Commander, and is working their way up the chain… It all started after Klein was found murdered in his bed, in a secure room in the hospital." The colonel shrugged, doing her best to look bewildered. "After that, Sergeant Diane Häberli disappeared first, and then Master Sergeant Matthias Scholtz… both simply vanished over the weekend. So, we're here to make sure the same doesn't happen to you."

"Diane and Matt are missing?"

"You didn't see them at work today, did you?" Culver frowned. "Don't you check up on your troops?"

"Of course, I do!" McKay responded, defensively. "But I also trust them, so I don't keep tabs on their every movement. I just assumed they had tasks outside the office today."

Culver opened her omnitool and began to scan the room. McKay immediately questioned, "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if your home is under any type of surveillance." Detecting no signals, she approached the commander. "You, however, have a personal tracker in your chrono. Do you not realize how easily you can be located through that device?"

"Well, yeah, but…" McKay's answer was abruptly cut off by the crack of weapon's fire echoing through the room, as a window beside the commander shattered in response to a sliver of metal that whistled past his head by mere centimeters, before burying itself in the nearby wall.

On instinct, everyone in the room ducked down and sought cover. Culver immediately shouted out, "Blaze, drop the blinds and kill the lights!"

He responded instantly and crawled across the floor to Culver's side. "The team reported in, Ma'am. They have pinpointed the source direction… Authorized to pursue?"

Culver growled, "No. As much as I'd like to find the fucker, our top priority is McKay's safety." She glanced at the anxious commander. "We can't protect you here… We need to move you to a secure facility… Now."

"Right." McKay's eyes were wide. "But I need to make a call first…"

"Not a chance, Commander." Culver shook her head. "Drop your chrono and omnitool, so you can't be electronically traced or tracked. We'll get you access to secure comms once we have you tucked away from whoever is trying to kill you. We make you safe first… then you'll be alive to make your calls… Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered as he deactivated his omnitool and removed both it and his chrono from his wrists. Reaching up to slide them onto a small table near the couch, he muttered "This situation is beyond bizarre! I honestly have no idea who would want me dead!"

"Time to talk about that later, Commander." She turned her head. "Blaze… Let's move."

It had all been carefully planned; Culver, with a five-person team including herself, quickly smuggled McKay to their waiting transport and took off, supposedly to safety. The squad's hacking and infiltration specialist, Engineer Rudolf 'Fortune' Fortunato, stayed behind and worked his way through the commander's apartment looking for evidence of past and potential future activities, while Specialist Monte 'Ringer' Mehringer, a close-combat specialist and the squad's back-up sniper, maintained a watch to ensure they were not discovered. Fortune grinned as they entered the apartment. "Nice shot, but did you have to shatter the window? Makes it a bit more difficult to sweep the scene."

"Not my fault the dirtbag lives in a cheap apartment without security webbed windows!" Ringer smiled in return. "He's lucky I checked that out before I pulled the trigger. I didn't expect the glass to stop the shot, so made sure to aim left. Besides, it's not like you need to worry about it anyway. I'll call the glass dimensions into the cleaners and it'll be replaced quick enough… maybe even before you're done."

Fortune was done in less than ten minutes, time enough for Ringer to make the necessary call, clean up the shards of glass, and make a perfunctory search of McKay's personal belongings, but little else. As they left, locking the apartment on their way out, the hacker whispered, "The Alliance really needs to do a better job training its officers in OPSEC. This guy didn't even have basic encryption on his files… any of them!… or on his damned omnitool!"

Moving quickly via dark, back alleys, Cliff asked, "So, did you find anything good?"

"Oh, there's all kinds of shit. Messages between a number of other Alliance personnel… it will be fun sorting through all that crap and figuring out which were official duty stuff and those that weren't… and lots of other stuff. The best download will probably be the batch file of banking records; money trails never lie."

"So, we get to nail McKay to the wall?" Cliff grinned, white teeth flashing briefly in the darkening fall twilight.

"Oh yeah… and a number of other folks as well, if intuition serves. This one guy is gonna crash their entire network. The info trail he left behind is big enough for a blind Vorcha to follow! We'll certainly be able to follow it; this group is going down!"

T'Soni Country Estate, Thessia, Athena Nebula – 26 Oct 2188

Shepard had just snuggled in behind Liara when her omnitool chirped with an incoming call. Liara mumbled grumpily as her bondmate rolled over to see who could possibly be calling at this late hour. Upon recognizing the ident code, the Spectre bolted upright in the bed. "Sharon! What do you have for me?"

Immediately awake with the mention of the name, Liara quickly sat up and peered over Shepard's shoulder, answering for the Special Operations commander with a spot-on declarative statement. "You already have McKay in custody, don't you."

"Correct as always, Liara," Sharon chuckled softly. "Sorry to disturb your rest."

Liara turned away to roll off the opposite side of the bed, speaking loud enough for Sharon to still hear. "Quite alright. It will be good to have this entire matter resolved; our rest hasn't exactly been peaceful, knowing those murderers and conspirators are still roaming free."

Culver's jovial mood vanished as she answered, "That's a true assessment, for sure… not only for you two. A lot of us have been losing sleep over this mess, but I do believe we are very close to wrapping this up."

Shepard was all business as she hung her feet off the side of the bed. "So, what do we have?"

"We have a very confused commander sitting in a sound-proofed Safe Room, thinking someone is trying to kill him." Culver smirked as she continued, "I imagine, by the time you get here, he'll have figured out he's been had… and his confusion will have turned into angry indignation. Please, go back to bed and enjoy your night's sleep, then come in the morning when you're good and ready. I want McKay to sit and stew; he's going to be mighty pissed off when he figures out the promised communications access isn't happening. I want him waiting long enough for the simmer to turn to a full boil. It just might make him say something stupid."

Special Operations Center, Earth, Sol – 26 Oct 2188

It had been over five years since then newly-promoted Commander Seth McKay had recited an oath that stated, in part, that he would '… support and defend the regulations and accords of the Systems Alliance against all enemies.' His thoughts went back briefly to that time as he waited for an escort to whatever passed for a secure communications center here… wherever this was… so he could contact Captain Bruce Mitchell on the heavy cruiser SSV Madrid. Have to warn him that the hounds have been loosed… let him know people are vanishing and everything is unraveling.

McKay, inside a locked room – 'for your own safety' he'd been told – by turns sat in the one comfortable chair in the room and paced around it in an endless circle as he slowly came to believe the promise of access to a comms system had been a fabrication in order to gain his unresisting cooperation. The realization that he'd been played hit him hard. That bitch lied to me! came the bitter thought. That miserable fuckin' whore lied to me!

Special Operations Center, Earth, Sol – 27 Oct 2188

"Shep!" Shepard's face wore a broad grin as she walked into Culver's office, the Colonel jumping from her chair to wrap the arriving Spectre in a warm hug as she continued, "Damned good to see you. I knew you'd get here as fast as you could this morning. Did you even sleep?"

"Like I didn't have a care in the galaxy, Sharon," came the smiling reply. Stepping back from the hug, she added, "But I was raring to go the minute I woke this morning, that's for sure. What do you have for us?"

Ignoring the question for a moment, Sharon sidestepped the Spectre and hugged Liara in welcome. "Good to see you too, Li. I can only hope the next time we get together will be for something fun."

"Yes, I agree. It would be nice to simply get together as friends… family… instead of for business." Liara smiled softly. "We need to make a point of it."

"Agreed." Sharon glanced back to Shepard and finally answered her. "Now, as for your question… McKay's concept of security thankfully needs a whole lot of work, so we have more information than we could have ever hoped." Handing over a data pad, she continued, "This is a summary of everything Fortune dug up. Didn't even take him long since none of it was encrypted. McKay must not have believed anyone would track him home and dig into his private equipment." She shook her head and snorted in disgust, "Idiot."

"Or, he simply believed whoever he's working for would protect him." Shepard raised her eyebrows as she glanced quickly through the information, her thoughts bleeding through the link garnering an angry retort from Liara.

"Bruce Mitchell?" the Asari growled. "As in the 'executive officer of the SSV Madrid under Captain Jessica Mikhailovich' Mitchell?"

"Easy, Blue." Shepard reached over and placed her hand over a clenched fist beginning to shed wisps of biotics. "It doesn't surprise me in the least that the followers of the Mikhailovich clan are mixed up in all this. In fact, I rather like it."

"What?" Liara looked at her siame in vexation, her voice squeaking as she said, "They were responsible for killing you, Shepard! What in blue blazes is there to like about any of this?"

Shepard squeezed her hand softly and answered, "Because this allows us to clean up more than just one mess… We're getting at least two for the price of one, here."

"Or not." Culver shook her head. "Could be it's all been related from the start. My guess is Admiral Mikhailovich was part of this from the very beginning. You two have been a pain in their collective asses more than a few times over the course of their attempts to establish Human dominance over the galaxy."

"You think he was associated with the Illusive Man?" Shepard's eyes opened wide as the implication of Sharon's words became clear.

"Keep reading over that data, Shep." Culver nodded at the pad still in the Spectre's hand. "The farther back in time you go, the more obvious it becomes. McKay was initially receiving orders from Admiral Mikhailovich. Even though Cerberus was never directly mentioned, he does talk about a man named Harper having a crystal-clear vision for the future of Humanity."

"Well, fuck me." Shepard said softly as she glanced at Liara. "Do you think they knew Jack Harper and the Illusive Man were one and the same?"

Liara shrugged. "I have no idea… but I cannot imagine that they did not."

"I want you to scan through this before I go in." Shepard handed her bondmate the data pad. "That way, you can look up specifics as I question McKay. I want him to think I've been studying this data for a long time… like none of it is a surprise to me." Sharon looked a bit confused, so the Spectre elaborated, "There's no way I can memorize that much information fast enough… but Liara can provide me details through the link." She grinned at her bondmate and added, "It's a huge advantage, since most don't understand the nature of the bond we have."

Understanding lit up Culver's face. "I can imagine." Glancing at Liara, she smiled. "There's no rush… the longer McKay waits, the better, as far as I'm concerned. Just let me know when you're ready to start."

Shepard and Culver stepped into the room; before he ever said a word, the expression on McKay's face told them he was none too pleased to see the Spectre enter along with the Colonel. "I guess the promise of access to secure comm was nothing but Pyjak shit, huh?" McKay's face held a derisive sneer as he added, "As for you, I should have known you had something to do with this… Spectre… because nothing about this is legal."

"You're right," Shepard chuckled, irritating McKay even more. "Especially your cooperation with Captain Mitchell and, by extension, Charles Saracino, in your attempt to eliminate the Systems Alliance leadership through assassination." With immense satisfaction, she watched the flash of surprised concern cross the man's face.

"What?" he blurted. "Are you out of your mind?" He shook his head in denial as he continued, "I'm a loyalist! I've supported the Systems Alliance my entire career… fought in the war… damned lucky to survive, if you ask me!"

"And the only reason any of us survived was Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett's leadership…" Shepard closed on the man, fists glowing blue, but she restrained herself as she growled, "And you repaid him by killing him, you worthless son of a bitch!"

McKay honestly thought he was going to get warped into oblivion and backed away quickly, cowering with a hand held up as a useless shield if Shepard was unable to contain herself. Once he realized she wasn't going to turn him into a smudge on the wall, he rediscovered his backbone, dropped his hand and straightened back up, glaring at her as he brazenly stated, "You've got no proof of your slander, Shepard, so why don't you shut the fuck up and give me my phone call."

At that, Culver laughed. "Oh! My! God! Do you honestly think we would take you into custody without full knowledge of your actions and proof of what you've done? You really are daft, aren't you?" She glanced at Shepard in disbelief before looking back at McKay. "Häberli told us most everything we needed to know. We just needed your info to tie up a few loose ends!"

At this point, Liara sent a quick prod through the link and Shepard echoed the information she provided. "I know it all started with a personal message from you to then-Commander Mitchell, congratulating him on his upcoming promotion but lamenting the reasons." Shepard sneered as McKay's eyes clouded with worry once more, and continued, "I've read a copy of it… should I quote it?"

McKay's face paled and he visibly deflated as Shepard, not bothering to wait for a response, repeated the words rolling through her mind from Liara. "It's a shame the woman who managed to rid us of that alien-lover as Humanity's representative to the galaxy had to lose her job in order for you to get your first command. You deserve every bit of it, but Jessica is a good woman and deserves thanks for her dedication to the cause instead of the loss of her position and rank within the Systems Alliance Navy."

Sharon quickly added, "And Mitchell's response… the assurance that Jessica's position within the movement was safe, along with inviting you to the next meeting of LEAP, next time you were home?" She scoffed in disgust. "That message sanctioned Mikhailovich's abandonment of Shepard to the ice of Alchera… Too bad for you, she didn't actually perish in that attack."

"Fuck you." McKay shook his head in disgust, realizing they had more than enough evidence to send him away for life. He no longer cared about himself but was determined to give them nothing else. Glaring malevolently at Shepard, he said, "Jack Harper is the one who recognized what you were and saved your ass… rebuilt you, so you could do what needed to be done. You were just a fucking cog in the machine; it was his vision that truly saved us, not you and your blue whore's last-minute heroics."

"He did save me… I'll grant you that." Shepard sighed and continued, "But the man was a megalomaniac. His intention wasn't to share power with anyone. He intended to control the Reapers and become a demi-god, a galactic dictator with the Reapers as his enforcers."

"That's a crock of shit." An indignant McKay glared at Shepard. "If we hadn't led the way, the Reapers would still be raping our worlds and we'd all be dead, just like all those cycles before us. We saved the whole Goddamned galaxy and all you alien-ass-kissers want is to piss away the leverage we gained through our sacrifices… our obvious superiority. Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong. I'm done. Not telling you shit."

"Whatever you say." Culver shrugged. "Just trying to make life easier. If you had decided to cooperate, you might have joined Häberli and Douglas Walker in their tropical retirement."

"And, as far as I'm concerned, it's too late to change your mind, asshole," Shepard growled with a curl in her lip. "Since we now have all of your unencrypted communications, we don't really need you anymore… so, your chance at a pleasant end to your life vanished before we even had the chance to offer it. Enjoy your nice, long life in prison, Mr McKay."

Shadow Broker Vessel Chiroquol, At Large – 27 Oct 2188

With his short little legs moving so quickly, it almost appeared like the rotund, diminutive Volus had veritably rolled into Oriana's office, obviously excited to share his news. "I found it!"

"Found what, BeeVee?"

Oriana's smile was always so sweet, Barla Von could never find it within himself to tell her how much he disliked the nickname she had attached to him, so he answered simply, words being spoken between the intermittent 'sshhk' sound of his rebreather, "The final money link to Mr Terra Firma, himself… Charles Saracino!"

Oriana's eyes went wide for a moment before she unthinkingly asked, "Are you sure?" Before he could take a breath to reply, she quickly added, "No! Strike that… of course you're sure, else you wouldn't be standing here trying to catch your breath." Shaking her head minutely, she took the OSD from his hand, inserted it into her own reader and glanced quickly through the contents displayed on the screen.

After several moments, she returned her attention to her enviro-suited crew member, saying, "You have outdone yourself this time, Barla Von… I truly believe this information will leave Mr Saracino twisting in the wind – for the rest of his natural life – probably in a cold, concrete compartment with vertical bars on the door and windows."

"I really must ask, Ms Lawson. '… twisting in the wind'? How, exactly, would something like that be accomplished?"

"It's a human idiom, BeeVee … from old Earth history… an allusion to being hanged by the neck and then left for dead in a suspended state… something that was done with depressing regularity in the American southwest of the 1700s and 1800s. In this context, it means Saracino has left himself wide-open to irrefutable criminal charges for soliciting – and paying for – the assassinations of four very prominent and important leaders." Grinning at the Volus, she added, "Well done!"

Upon hearing this, Barla Von found he no longer cared what Oriana Lawson called him. Seeing the grin that lit her entire face when she looked at him made him a bit giddy. I suppose it is okay for her to refer to me as 'BeeVee', as long as no one else is permitted to do the same.

SSV Madrid, Exodus Cluster, At Large – 28 Oct 2188

While on an extended patrol in one of the first extrasolar clusters reached by Humans, Captain Bruce Mitchell had been receiving regular updates on the situation in Vancouver – if one could call the paltry amount of data received since the last update in September – and even that source of information had abruptly gone silent within a week of the discovery of a Cerberus dagger planted in the middle of Frédéric Klein's chest… It hadn't resumed since, and the sudden cessation of information was worrisome; Mitchell had been the one advocating patience while his people looked for a way to bring Shepard and her blue whore down from their lofty pedestal… it was beginning to seem as if he had been too patient.

After attempting… and utterly failing… to have the blame for Klein's murder dropped at the feet of the unknown woman who had attempted to wring Klein's neck, Mitchell had been forced to fall back on trusting the agents on the ground with getting the job finished. The sudden silence was leading him to wonder if he'd been too direct in his last communication. Perhaps, actually voicing his disdain at their apparent utter incompetence had angered them, and they were responding by being petty… by withholding the information he sorely needed to press their movement forward.

Marine Sergeant Diane Häberli had fallen silent first, followed quickly by Master Sergeant Matthias Scholtz… then, lastly, Commander Seth McKay. Seth's disappearance was the most disturbing; he had apparently failed to report to work and, when two Marines had been dispatched to find him, it appeared as though he had simply deserted his post. His omnitool and chrono had been turned off, a set of suitcases were missing, and there was absolutely no trace of the commander. His home showed no signs of forced entry and all of his personal possessions were undisturbed. It's as if he simply vanished into thin air! I'll just bet the bastard lost his nerve and abandoned our cause! Mitchell's face screwed into a frown as his mind raced. Could Scholtz and Häberli have gone with him? If that's the case, they're together on this mutiny… Goddammit! I need to find them!

"Only one way to find out," he said aloud to himself, alone in his quarters, before he opened his comm unit. "Bridge. There's nothing out here of any significance to us. Time to wrap this mission up and head for home."

The response came back quickly. "Aye aye, Sir. Setting a course for Sol; estimated arrival, 0400 hours."

"Excellent. Wake me at 0600 hours." With a nod, Mitchell turned away and retreated to his quarters. As if I'm going to get any sleep this night!