A/N:

I haven't done a perspective from the Council of Elderly Male Jackasses of Sol, so I figured a snippet of that would be interesting before moving into pre-Korlus. The speed of events will start to pick up now, as most of the backstory you need to know is (FINALLY) in place.

Progman would claim I'm being too world-buildy, no doubt.

I'm glad to hear from some of you I haven't gotten reviews from in a while, like GalacticAlien. Please forgive me if I haven't replied to you review yet, as I'm...ugh, swamped with work and problems with my car and other crap.

I'm indulging MonkeyEpoxy with even more quotes from Benezia.

Thanks to the Editing Gang for their usual bang-up job, and to several of them for pointing out much needed clarifications.


'Balance is a concept many free-thinkers and philosophers like to delude themselves about, but it is often imbalance that results in motion, in action, in life. The balanced equation is equal, the balanced reaction inert. It is in the imbalances we find that which drives and catalyzes us. The more balanced a person becomes, I have found, the less likely they are to achieve that which they set out to do.'

Matriarch Benezia T'Soni, 'No Single Raindrop Blames Itself For The Flood'


The sky was blackened by the vast bulk of an armada storm, a legacy of the harm visited by men upon their own world. Winds howled and lightning flashed as the storm lashed at the tower with radioactive dust and booming thunder, and were muted to mere vibrations by the thick walls of the towering construction of white and gold, and the force shields of the arcology.

The Chamber of Lords was only dimly illuminated by the sunlight managing to struggle through the storm, and a more superstitious person might take such a thing as an omen. Given the recent setbacks and other problems encountered in what had once been foolproof plans, such would not be out of place. But as Manswell Maxwell turned his gaze from the corrupted heavens to the ring of elegant, well attired men around him, his ancient features were instead graced with a faint smile.

The massive doors were sealed, the multitude of anti-spying devices engaged, and the layers of kinetic barriers glowed along the walls, worked into the mighty pillars that supported the hall's soaring roof as they protected the seat of Mankind's power. Given the topics to be discussed, the additional security of the storm, which would disrupt spy-beams and foil more elegant methods of eavesdropping, was a blessing rather than an omen.

The Manswell prince sat hieratically atop the dais at the center of the Chamber, a black woolen blanket over his knees the only acknowledgment of his age. The past two years had been unkind, and his strength was failing faster by the day in the public eye. His voice was frail but firm as he spoke, amplified by the small mic lead against his throat.

"We have much to consider this day, and none of it is good. You have seen the initial reports from the Ministry of the Interior. Expenses for NOVENSILES have hit well over two hundred billion, and the most recent runs have been complete failures. We simply do not have the technology to perform the recombination work, and our ETA has slipped again, to possibly as late as 2205."

The hard, sallow features of Sheik Abzrad al Saud tightened. "Many things we have been promised, Prince. Few have we seen thus far. Our patience wanes even as our skepticism grows, and now we are told there are further setbacks?"

Seated across from him, lounging with one leg flung over the arm of his chair as if a reprobate and swirling a glass of something dark in one hand, the elegant and debased features of Prince Reginald Eldfell twisted into a sneer. "Voyez : la gracieuse maison Al Saud nous démontre une nouvelle fois sa sagacité.." He sniffed. "You will, of course, pardon my incredulity at your gauche statement of impatience, maître des sables. I seem to have mislaid my comprehension of your investment into the plan."

He paused, sipping at his wine. "Oh yes, I recall now. You said it was stupid and unworkable until you received your share of the profits, and then you were effusive in your praises."

Manswell's eyes narrowed but he said nothing, instead shifting his glance to that of Emperor Nikoru Hirohito Yamato, who stood up with a polite expression. As he rarely spoke, when he chose to do so, most listened. "So sorry, but it would seem to me as if the situation is unchanged. While I... have reservations about the direction we have steered ourselves in, turning back now is unwise. The salarians and asari remain the same threat as ever, and this new horror – these Reapers – remain an even larger problem. Arguments about delays hide the issue we face – do we proceed with NOVENSILES or with ACHILLES?"

Duke Si Yon Chu scowled. "This is not the hour for hesitance, and to alter course at this late juncture seems unwise."

The Emperor's nostrils flared, his delicate features blank and impassive otherwise, his voice beautifully modulated. "So sorry, but this is the last hour to turn our path to one course or the other. If there are... delays in what we plan, then what better time to consider other options?"

Maxwell raised a shaky hand. "This is no time to debate such things, my brothers. Humanity's own ignorance of the darkness beyond is by our hands, for the best of reasons. I will not pretend that NOVENSILES is a reasonable or measured response. But the time for such things is long past. ACHILLES will start a war when we can least afford it – NOVENSILES will remain undetected for decades if we are careful."

Prince Charles Windsor gave a scowl. "The actions of Kyle, Shepard, and Anderson – and the escape of your pet lunatic Harper – would indicate that caution in such an assumption is warranted. Need I remind my august brothers of the stakes? Of the untold billions we have poured into this project, only to have another round of failures?" His face soured. "Not to mention the human cost and what it means for our people."

Sheik Abzrad gave a hard little chuckle. "I complain because I have no faith in the projections, not because I have any hesitance about the ends. The aljamahir al-qudhra concern me about as much as the sands outside my home do. There will always be more. The destiny of the great is to rule, of the lesser to serve, and of the least to obey."

Grand Kniaz Tuchenko Dragunov nodded, his cruel features tightening into a grin. "Well said. Some of the classics have the most pointed reminders of truth. You lot rarely indulge in fiction... but one thing I read in a book sums our situation nicely."

He leaned back, heavy black brows drawing down over equally dark eyes. "Summer is gone. Winter is coming. This is no time to hesitate over morals... or money. If we are unprepared the asari will break us as they have broken the turians – and if these Reapers are real... we need the advantages of NOVENSILES. By comparison, the... plague thing of ACHILLES only weakens us in the long run - the aliens will be useful in fighting the Reapers, after all, and cannot do so if they are all dead."

Duke Chu gave a shrug. "As I said, this is not the hour for hesitance. Sun Tzu said 'the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation', and I tend to agree." He grimaced. "On the other hand, the report is... disturbing. The cold reality is that we will have to give consideration to tipping our hand to the quarians if we wish to continue with NOVENSILES – we simply don't have the technology needed to pull this off on our own. With ACHILLES, no such compromises are required."

Maxwell leaned back. "As loath as I am to admit it, Duke Chu is right. We have... spoken with this Admiral Daro'Xen. She is more akin to us than I expected. She is ruthless, driven, ambitious, and raises an excellent point – the quarians are the only aliens who would prosper more with us than against us."

Lord Jason Prescott Coleman, former Prime Minister, sneered. "I dislike working with gypsy aliens."

Maxwell inclined his head, strands of faint white hair occluding his flinty gaze. "I am not fond of the idea either. But we have little choice. The research we are conducting has many applications - with some alteration, it could be repurposed to fix the immune system and fertility issues of the quarians, and strengthen their own race. Their... investigation into the geth raises the possibility that one day they could regain control over their wayward servants, elevating them from merely useful to a true galactic power."

He smiled. "As such, our work with Doctor Archer on the geth programs on Horizon and Alte has already won her admiration. We can reap more benefits if we work with them than against them. And frankly, their ability to survive without a world may be useful if the Reapers are more than we can deal with."

He tapped his hand to his chair. "The Earth is broken." He gestured above, to the skies tormented by the huge storm cell. "An invasion and more damage will kill the planet. If all is lost, then abandoning that which is nonessential will require... significant effort – and significant ships. They are the most prepared at allowing us to survive such an apocalypse."

Coleman blew out air from his mouth, his patrician features sour. "Fine. How will we pay for this while building up the Solguard, the Fleet, and the Knights Irregular?"

Lord Baron Jonah Ashland spoke, his voice low and even. "If our investigations are correct, even if our new technology and upgraded fleets can withstand Reaper assault, the economy and other races will be smashed. Humans are an afterthought – what little we know suggests the Reapers will focus on the larger threats first. If we must, we can sell off technologies to the other races for the final cash flows needed – even the secrets of the hyperscoop technology. After all, if everything is to be destroyed, what point maintaining a monopoly?"

Chu winced, but nodded. "Let us hope it does not come to that. And how do the quarians fit in?"

Maxwell shrugged. "Daro'Xen feels her people's leadership is... weak. The time will come when we will aid her in rectifying that, and she will aid us. I fear we have been so inured to alien betrayal and depravity that we risk overlooking a race that might be actual allies to us. And we are not competitive – they cannot live on our worlds, or we on theirs."

He leaned back. "If in the aftermath of the Reaper invasion – whenever it comes – the humans and quarians stand ascendant, then we can at least put an end to the threat of the Thirty, the SIX, and the Council of Woe." His ancient features twisted into a smile. "And then... we shall have... peace."

There was a moment of silence before all fifteen of the High Lords engaged in soft, mocking laughter. Chu spoke. "Shall we vote? NOVENSILES, and the quarians? Or ACHILLES?"

There was a murmur of sound, and then each High Lord touched an omnipanel to their right from their comfortable, throne like chairs. Blobs of green accumulated, and only one vote was for ACHILLES.

Maxwell's smile widened. "Then the plan proceeds. Inform the Minister of the Interior we will have speech with him, and prepare a Red Note to the Senate to curtail further spending on environmental repair or investment in outlying colonies – refocus the money to defense, and move additional funds to our technology sharing with the quarians."

The heretofore quiet figure in white silk that was Engazi Mufune Ngubane finally spoke. "A final question, it comes to my mind. Cerberus continues to meddle. When will you dispatch Hades to destroy them?"

Manswell gave an irritated wave of the hand, but it was Chu who spoke. "Whatever Harper is up to, it appears to be focused on the Traverse. He is ultimately harmless. No one will listen to him, and now that the Council is aware of his activities, they will endlessly harry him. We have isolated most of our own economic inputs to avoid penetration by his... agents."

The African prince scowled. "But he still knows. And Harper is a spiteful man, if he reveals what he knows upon capture or an understanding that he is thwarted..."

Maxwell sneered. "He has signed his own death warrant by his... attachment to his asari whore. Trellani is someone the asari fear intensely, and they will not allow anyone she has allied with to survive. And even if he does reveal what he knows, what of it? Who would believe such a thing? The facilities are well hidden – all they will find out of sorts in the Black Zone is our Reaper research, and the Palavanus and Salarians are doing the same damned thing."

He paused, giving heavy, racking coughs, then continued. "...besides. Harper... is foolish enough, zealous enough, to die rather than risk humanity. He's convinced he has all the answers - but in the end he is merely another jumped up commoner with aspiration and ambition beyond ability – he won't risk everything out of spite."

Eldfell nodded sagely, sipping his wine. "A common failing of a common man. Les manants devraient se résoudre à leur lot, no?"

Coleman gave a sigh of disgust. "Is it too much to ask for English?"

O-TWCD-O

The Illusive Man's shimmering QEC image exhaled smoke, before his face was twisted by a very small smirk. "You were able to convince Jack to join us, I see."

Shepard stood in her office, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Wasn't that hard. I suppose you think it's cute how she's basically a younger version of me. You're pretty goddamned slick, I'll give you that."

Harper dumped his ashes. "Certain similarities did not miss my attention, that is true. I think you will find I've given careful thought to all of the people I've recommended you acquire. I believe Jack will be a very useful asset in your own endeavors. And your similarities, as they are, would seem to put you in a place where you could provide guidance and stability for the girl."

She snorted. "Like that was real high on your list of reasons why we needed to pick her up."

He gave her a rather hard look, a note of annoyance in his voice. "As implausible as you seem to think it is, I do take responsibility for what Cerberus has done. Much of what was done was necessary, no matter how much you protest."

He exhaled smoke, eyes narrowing. "But some acts were not necessary. Those actions taken in regards to Jack ruined a promising method of using biotics for humanity. They ruined a research corpus I spent a great deal of effort putting together and a large amount of cash. But they also ruined a number of children... and if you can help her, and make her an asset of humanity while redeeming my own mistake – I'd call that a win."

She narrowed her eyes. "Every time I think I have you down, you display the tiniest bits of fucking humanity mixed with the most amoral bullshit and make me wonder just what the hell happened to you to make you this way."

He inhaled on his smoke again, eyes flat. "Shepard, you have a distressing tendency to assume I am something I'm not. Or that you have some... monopoly on regrets. I won't claim I undertake any actions out of the goodness of my heart." His voice took on the faintest tone of disdain. "And I hardly need to lecture you on the things that privation and a lack of concern do to the morality of those who grow up in such conditions."

She tilted her head. "Not to put too fine a fucking point on it, but what the shit would you know about that?"

His expression never wavered, but his voice sounded amused. "I was not always … at the status I am now. While I would never claim my early life was as void of human decency as yours, I had almost nothing to my name for many years as well." He puffed on the cigarette again. "I embrace elegance and luxury because reminders of such times does me little good. But I have no more forgotten the lessons of the streets any more than you... or Jack."

He puffed out smoke again, letting it wreathe his features. "We both know sometimes you simply have to take the action that keeps you in the game."

She glanced away. "I shouldn't have to justify my goddamned life by street rules, Harper." She pinched the bridge of her nose again, before angrily pulling out her own pack of cigarettes and lighting up.

He leaned back. "And that is your value to me, to Cerberus. You never let what you went through twist you."

Shepard gave a bleak, bitter laugh. "Ha. Don't be stupid, Jack. Of course I let it twist me. Shit, I let it ruin me and make me into what Ahern called an emo shitfaced clown. But someone made me move past that...and I'm just trying to remember what she said. What she showed me. What I finally understood."

She exhaled angrily. "Fuck. You didn't call me to debate goddamned morality or listen to me vent. She's on the team, and despite her mouth I can handle her. Next is Okeer."

He nodded. "Miranda provided an update about that – and your request for information regarding Urdnot Wrex. My penetration of Tuchanka is not as in-depth as I would like due to the interference of Eclipse, but he remains on the planet, engaged in organizing the krogan clans and focused on heavy warfare with Clan Ganar and its allies.."

Shepard exhaled. "I know we're tight on time, but I promised Wrex I'd stand with him to take down Okeer. I need to know if you can help me get to Tuchanka and pick him up."

He leaned back, sipping his drink. "Shepard, I don't need to tell you that Wrex worked for the Shadow Broker for quite some time, on and off, especially after the death of his son. I am uncertain of the context of said work, but if he has any loyalty to the Broker, then such a move might lead to your exposure – and exposing you to direct such scrutiny this early in the game is unwise."

Her nostrils flared. "You think he'd sell me out to the fucking Broker? You don't know Wrex very well."

He nodded, blue-glowing rings in his eyes tracking her as she began to pace. "Perhaps not. I could argue the same for you. Your connection – the salvation of his son at Torfan by yourself and Ms. Shields – no doubt won his gratitude. But that was a shallow connection at best."

She shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

He shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I won't attempt to suggest that he is likely to actively betray you. But his association with the Broker remains... troubling, and there are still unanswered questions about his part in events. Namely, the only methods I can deduce by which the Normandy would have been brought down would have to involve some sort of active transmission that pinpointed the ship's location. The Broker's LINK technology – technology I believe Wrex placed aboard your ship – would have been the most natural place for such."

He put his cigarette out. "The report from the late Beatrice Shields indicated this was the most likely explanation for how your ship was destroyed. And even if Wrex is not inclined to notify the Broker, Tuchanka is not a stable environment … nor one that can be entered via stealth. The CDEM is under the control of Jona Sederis by Council fiat, but several Spectres have also been deployed to keep an eye on things. The Broker is hardly unlikely to leave such a situation... without a method to monitor it."

Shepard folded her arms. "You're saying I can't go pick up my friend? Okeer killed his goddamned son! He needs to be there."

Harper spread his hands. "I believe we had this discussion when I first awoke you, Shepard. I merely provide the means and the mission. How you go about things – I leave that to you. You've made it clear you don't take orders from me. But I would strongly suggest that there are few reasons for Wrex to meet your public persona, and Tuchanka is unlikely to have the privacy needed to reveal yourself. I can't stop you, nor would I try. I merely suggest it is a poor idea... and that krogan are never sentimental."

He sipped his drink again. "Assuming Okeer is involved, I cannot imagine Wrex being terribly displeased if you just bring along the skull of the good doctor when, in the fullness of time, you are ready to go to Tuchanka openly."

Shepard sighed. "Okeer is supposed to be a hard bastard to kill. I wasn't just going to bring him for fucking nostalgia, Harper – I might need the help."

The Illusive Man considered this a long moment. "We have little active intelligence on Korlus. One reason you are meeting Zaeed there is that the Blue Suns Legion Commander on the world, Jedore Kalsa, was one of Mr. Massani's strongest supporters. I'm hoping that the Suns will have more in-depth information - and provide additional firepower. That being said..."

He paused, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Aside from Doctor Solus, Okeer is the only source of direct intel we can locate regarding the Collectors, and he had interactions with both Saren and, it would appear, Ylana. His name is well known, and attacking him will almost certainly put the Broker on alert - not to mention the Collectors. Obfuscating who is behind killing him should be our priority. Between yourself, the assets you have on hand, and the assistance of Firestorm and Massani, Okeer should not require the assistance of a highly visible and famous krogan warlord. The less attention this trip attracts the better."

Shepard gave a disgusted sigh. "Fine." Her gaze hardened. "But I want some of your people on Tuchanka. Wrex is there, and so is Baby Blue. So many of my friends are dead – I'd like to know at least two more are okay."

Harper frowned. "I... will see if there are resources that I can utilize towards that. For the moment, let us concentrate on the goals at hand. Are there any other delays or complications prior to your setting out? Miranda's report also mentioned medical issues that were nearly resolved."

She nodded. "Miranda's medical team is done with re-installing Jack's bio-amp and fixing up the last few cyberware issues with a few of my marines. Pressly is going to be in surgical recovery for a while, there was a lot of shit to fix." Her face twisted in anger. "Fucking Alliance..."

He took another drag. "I am gratified the facilities we gifted you are being put to good use. Miranda was very complementary in regards to Mr. Pressly's various skills, and from all reports he seems to be an excellent choice as an executive officer. That being said, if he is going to be your executive officer, what role will Miranda be playing?"

Shepard shrugged. "That's up to her. She's too smart and skilled to be stuck shuffling paper and making sure all my i's are dotted and t's crossed. She's the only person who understands the bullshit you've done to me that I can take into dangerous situations, and she's got a good handle on shit I don't, like intelligence analysis and all that stuff."

She frowned, puffing on her cigarette. "But as a leader she's weak."

He nodded. "Yet another reason why I felt her working with you would be a benefit to you both. Growth that benefits her will only make Cerberus and humanity stronger."

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "I didn't set out to 'improve' your little terrorist clique, Jack."

He made a motion with his hands. "As I've said before, Cerberus is a concept. An ideal. You can't change that ideal – unless you are willing to take part in it. But you can still contribute. Cerberus and what it stands for will survive my death, and Miranda will eventually be the one to bring it to where I envisioned it when I first wrote the Cerberus Manifesto. The Alliance – humanity as a whole – will always need Cerberus. You should be honored I feel you are capable of improving the skills of who will lead it when I am gone."

Shepard frowned sourly. "Shit. I've told you before, I'm not one of you. One of your butcher boys called me out on the fact that what you people do is necessary. I still don't buy it."

Harper shrugged. "And to be honest, if you did 'buy it' I wonder if you would be as useful to me. I have not denied Cerberus has made errors – that I have made errors. Oversights … and in some cases, lack of oversight. Jack herself is an example of one such lack, as I said earlier."

He puffed on the cigarette. "But at least I can face you, and tell you that such oversights were not the intent. The Alliance can't do that, now can they? They will almost proudly admit to committing to a line that ultimately is not in humanity's best interest, mostly to keep those in power from ever falling from such heights."

He tapped his ashes into the tray built into the arm of his chair. "You may hate my methods – you may hate me – but you cannot tell yourself that my ultimate goal – a humanity that stands on its own feet, unbeholden and free to choose its own path – is somehow less noble or moral than NOVENSILES."

She exhaled sharply. "And you have no fucking idea how much disgust that fills me with. Not that I like venting to you of all fucking people, but I have to know something that's bugged me for a while: how much of it is just... rotten?"

The blue circles in his eyes rotated. "The Systems Alliance?" He lifted his drink, sipping slowly, then set it back down, a thoughtful look on his face. "Less than you might think or imagine in some ways. More in others. The question you should be asking is not how far the rot has spread, but what is spreading it in the first place."

Shepard shook her head. "I can already fucking guess that. Based on what Miranda and the intel team have been forwarding me, the High Lords of Sol are behind it. When he took care of the whole mess when I stole the Normandy, the Silver Prince snowed my ass pretty good, and I just assumed Alliance command was the problem."

Harper shrugged. "Manswell is very experienced at making people underestimate him, Shepard. The High Lords have run this game since the very start, since Saint Victor himself put down the ruling governments and united humanity under his own iron banner. The high-flown ideals and dedication to protect humanity all sound very nice – and I have no doubts that the vast majority of both the Alliance military and the Alliance government actually believe in said ideals – as you did yourself."

He tapped his ashes free again. "But as with any other system, it is the action of those in charge that determine, ultimately, the real direction it moves in. It is yet another reason Cerberus is needed. Unmonitored systems often develop code drift." He exhaled. "But that will be a discussion for another time."

He tapped a control on the arm of his chair. "I've arranged for a... distraction... near the Bledtesh relay leading towards the Korlus Trade Lane. Mr. Massani has three detachments of his Firestorm mercenaries on the planet, so you shouldn't need heavy use of attritional mech units, but I would suggest going in heavy when it comes to storming whatever complex Okeer is occupying. If the Blue Suns are willing to assist, Miranda can offer them financial incentives."

She snorted. "Good to know. Anything else?"

He observed her for a long moment. "Just... one more thing. We don't know what Okeer is up to on Korlus, but I've been trying to follow the money. It has taken some time to piece everything together, but it appears that his funding is mostly through various Broker fronts – he may have knowledge or information about the Broker as well as the Collectors that could be of use to us. His work on the Genophage may also mean he has information on that."

He leaned forward. "Not to indulge in unsubtlety, but anything about a Genophage cure could be an extremely valuable bargaining chip with your friend Urdnot Wrex. The krogan would make a good bulwark of infantry soldiers when the Reapers do come."

Shepard sighed. "Everything has a goddamned use for you, doesn't it?"

He leaned back in the chair. "I will instead say that the time and place for sentiment is not when we are facing extinction, Shepard. Keep me informed." The QEC link died, and Shepard rubbed at her cybernetic eyes for a bit, before tapping the commlink on her desk.

"Miranda, where are we with the medical stuff?"

Miranda's voice had a thin edge to it, but it softened after her first few words. "Minor complications in regards to Mr. Pressly's condition. The Alliance did not see fit to anchor any of the damaged nerve caps in his ocular socket or his lower spine, so we'll have to culture new nerve basal stem cells and use nanotherapy to process the endings. That isn't a quick process, even with Vigil's assistance – but it is needed before we do any cybernetic installation."

Shepard sighed. "And Jack? My marines?"

Miranda sniffed. "Jack's bio-amp was reinstalled. She's currently in the biotic test facility. Her power is impressive if … unschooled. Your marines who required augmentation or repair have been refitted and are prepared to move out."

Shepard nodded to herself. "Rustle up Tali and have everyone meet me in the main ops briefing area in twenty."

O-TWCD-O

In true Cerberus style, the meeting area was basically a small auditorium built around a haptic display tank, leather sectionals and expensive coffee machines setting off the framework of more haptic displays on the wall.

Shepard glanced at Miranda, and then at the team. Tali and Joker sat closest, flanked by Senior Chief Vega, Chief Haln, and Sergeants Ownby and Haskins. Her DACT lounged against another nearby couch. Jack sat by herself, feet spread wide, eyes covered with a pair of wrap-around sunglasses, fiddling with a heavy shotgun she'd taken from the armory.

Miranda stood to one side, flipping through something on her omnitool, speaking a few seconds later. "Jacob has arrived on Bekenstein...as of an hour ago, there are some difficulties involving one Donovan Hock that he may have to rectify. It is unlikely he'll be done in time to get back before Friday."

Shepard nodded. "Alright. We'll roll without." She glanced at the big haptic screen. "We're going after a krogan scientist named Ganar Okeer."

Jack snorted. "A krogan scientist? The fuck?"

Shepard shrugged. "That's what I'm told. Okeer is the oldest krogan – the oldest living sentient being – alive, approaching three thousand years old. Apparently, krogan only die if killed, and get bigger and stronger the longer they live."

She tapped her omni, an image of a simply titanic krogan in bronzed armor displayed. "Case in point, this image is from the fucking original Krogan Rebellions – that was a long time ago. He's one of the developers of the Genophage that broke the power of the Krogan, and he's been involved with all kinds of shady shit over the years."

She set her jaw. "Among other things, he was tied up with slavers that killed the son of a good friend of mine. He was involved with Saren and Benezia, providing the krogan that Saren warped into those Destroyer things that stormed the Citadel, the rachni-krogan crossbreeds. And he was probably tied up in some way with Ylana. Now it looks like the Broker lied about taking him out and he's tied up with that fuck, plus the Collectors."

Tali shifted in her seat. "Do you think he is indoctrinated, then?"

Shepard shrugged. "Possible. We don't know much – Korlus is a pretty rough place." She tapped her omni-tool. "It's a recycling and shipbreaking world, with it's own little slaver gang that provides the manpower for such jobs. Most of the work is hazardous, involves lots of explosive, corrosive or dangerous chemicals, and is a big source of smuggling cover. It's overrun with criminal asshats, slaving fucks, and other assorted slime. Even if Okeer wasn't on the planet I would have wanted to give it a going over."

Miranda's lips twitched. "We're trying to maintain a low profile, Shepard – which I mentioned to you, before you set out to have your temper tantrum with the Umlor Pirates. I understand it was a deliberate move in some ways that allowed us to achieve our goals … but the manner of its execution has had certain consequences."

Shepard smirked, and Miranda gave a look of exasperation as she continued speaking. "And while I certainly appreciate the idea of removing such blights, I would argue the situation is much different here, and that perhaps we should engage that particular problem at a later date? Annihilating another pirate network will not go unnoticed, after all."

Shepard made an open gesture with her hand. "No one is gonna miss them, Lawson." She blew out a breath. "But she's right. The Council is 'interested' in the Butcher and they have a pair of Spectres with lots of backup looking for me. We can't afford to get pinned down in a long running fight and apprehended – and I know both the Spectre's involved. I don't need a fight with either of them, much less both."

Jack sneered. "What? I thought you could beat the shit out of anyone, all the smack you were talking earlier."

Shepard shrugged. "Maybe I could beat them both. But they both have personal fleets, and a lot of the people on one of those fleets used to be my sailors and marines. And while I'd be happy to put my fist into one of the Spectres in question, the other one...she's sort of a relative. I'd rather not have to kill them – not to mention doing so would ruin any chances I have to work with the Council later on."

Miranda arched an eyebrow. "Optimistic of you."

Shepard shrugged. "Maybe. But given the whole point of this mess is to find enough evidence to convince the ever-fucking Council to, y'know, actually listen to me for once, I figure it is probably the smart play."

Turning back to the group, she folded her arms. "Our goal is to find Okeer, neutralize whatever bullshit he's up to, gather intelligence and information, and then either capture him for interrogation – or if that's too hard, blow his fucking brains out." She glanced at Tali. "This is the asshole who beat the fuck out of Wrex, and is probably the guy providing the clowns who offed Captain Troyce as well."

Tali's mechanical hand tightened to a fist, and Joker scowled. "Could you stop deliberately pissing her off?"

Shepard smirked. "I like it when she gets angry."

Joker sighed.

Shepard tapped her omni again. "We'll be meeting up with a man known as Zaeed Massani – a very famous bounty hunter and mercenary, who currently runs his own private military corporation known as the Firestorm. Masaani has his own axe to grind with the Broker, and Cerberus has paid him off to work with us as well as to retain his PMC on standby if we need heavier or additional backup."

She glanced around the room. "I've worked with him – briefly – during the Damocles Incident, and he's ex-Penal Legion, like me. He's going to be a very rough sort of man to deal with, but adds a good amount of firepower. We go in, meet up with him, and his merc company will help assault Okeer's compound. He'll also help us talk with the local Blue Suns leader, who has some kind of issue with Okeer."

Another tap of the omni revealed an image of a heavily reinforced ship dock, surrounded by high walls, heavy bunkers with GTS missiles, and rank upon rank of krogan-style ground assault vehicles. "Okeer has taken possession of the Takara Shipbreaking Dock, converted it into some kind of ship conversion facility, and is currently doing something involving biotechnology."

She glanced at Miranda, who continued. "According to our sources, Doctor Okeer has access to almost a dozen light frigates and more than fifteen heavy freighters converted to troop landing vessels. He is also acquiring quite a large amount of ordinance and other war-fighting supplies. Our initial intel suggest that the situation on Tuchanka – his clan is being cleansed from the face of the planet by Jona Sederis and Urdnot Wrex – has forced his hand away from whatever research he was working on to planning a raid on Tuchanka to rescue the rest of his clan."

Shepard smiled. "We will have to hit this facility hard, penetrate security, fight through an army of krogan and beat him down, steal or gather information about the Collectors and whatever else we can, and then get the hell out before the Spectres – or the slaver networks on the planet – show up." She gestured vaguely at the image on the haptic screen. "As you can see, it is pretty fortified. If he's up to something really nasty, we'll have to blow the place up on our way out."

Tali sighed. "So, Virmire, minus Benezia and Nazara. Wonderful."

Shepard winced at the reminder of Kaiden's death, but nodded. "Pretty much. We'll split into activity teams for this. Jack, Tali, you'll be with me. Miranda, I need you to to lead my marine squad as a flanking force to keep heavy fire off of us. We'll take some mechs, but not a lot, mostly to boost your numbers."

She shut off the haptic screen. "Zaeed will retain command of his own mercs and I plan to have him do the bulk of engaging the krogan. We'll keep Doctor Sedanya on hot standby with a landing ship if we need medevacs."

Tali spoke up. "We should bring Kiala and Dost as well. Dost is a very good combat engineer and hacker, and we may need something heavier to break Okeer's data."

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "You forget about Vigil?"

Tali shook her head. "No, but we don't know what will happen. There could be something that ties up all of Vigil's attention."

The sphere pulsed in faint illumination. "While normally I would suggest the canned organic is underestimating me, there may be wisdom to planning for the worst. While I am invulnerable to anything your primitive technology might come up with, this Okeer is involved with the Collectors, and if they are using Reaper technology, that is more than capable of causing me severe difficulties. A good portion of my runtimes are already heavily engaged at Bekenstein. Additionally, I will be attempting to jam communications from an entire planet to prevent the Council from learning of what is happening until it's too late. Besides, I am not here to do your jobs for you."

Shepard eyed the thing, but Jack laughed. Tali was clearly unamused. "Canned organic?"

Vigil smugly soared higher and closer. "I can assemble other nicknames if you like."

Shepard held up a hand. "No. Back to the matter at hand, please. Have you been able to penetrate Okeer's network yet?"

The sphere sank back down. "No. The krogan is much smarter than any of his meat-headed kin. His entire network is run through purely optical hardlines, and all communication systems route to a primitive but effective speaker system rather than the normal TTL nets. All computers are physically isolated from any outside networks and even the armored vehicle computers have nothing but hardline comms – not even laser pickups. It is almost as if he fears being compromised by hacking...which makes me wonder exactly what he is doing."

Shepard nodded sourly. "Alright, then. The armory is open and Dost has finished specs on upgraded armor for everyone – including you, Jack. You aren't running into a goddamned firefight wearing bandages."

Jack scowled, but one of the marines spoke up. "Hell, the other shit they threw together looked pretty badass, Boss Lady. And those fucking guns!"

Jack immediately perked up at that. Shepard chuckled. "You have two hours to get geared up. We'll be launching twenty minutes after that, so make sure you have everything squared away. Vega, that's on you to act as the BDO."

The big Hispanic man nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Ah, what kind of rank or organizational structure we running here?"

Shepard sighed, and Miranda spoke. "Cerberus uses a simplified rank structure for its military forces...or at least, we did. Line soldiers are troopers, commanded by assault leaders – roughly, sergeants – and centurions, or chiefs. Assault Captain is roughly a BDO style rank, and most units are lead at the top ranks by a Cerberus Commander."

Shepard's lips quirked. "So I guess I'm Commander Shepard again, huh?"

Miranda arched an eyebrow. "I'd say that would depend on if you consider yourself part of Cerberus."

Vega nodded. "Fair enough. Is all the armor in black and orange, though?"

Miranda sighed. "A byproduct of the plasma forge process is that it blackens the metal. We removed any Cerberus logos or insignia, and the suits can be painted to whatever spec you like."

Shepard nodded. "Have Dost throw white and blue on everything. I don't want anything linking us to Cerberus right now, and putting Jack in Cerberus colors might actually make her catch fire or some shit."

Jack flipped her off, and Shepard chuckled. "You have your orders. As Master Chief Cole used to say, move like you have a purpose."

"Rah!" The handful of marines departed, and Shepard turned to Miranda. "If you don't mind, I'm going to check on Pressly – comm me when we're ready to head out."

Miranda nodded. "Of course, Shepard."

By the time she got to medical, her somewhat keyed up nerves had settled. Pressly was ensconced in one of the private rooms around the periphery of the main medical staging area, in a comfortable bed with a thick black and orange blanket.

He sat up a bit more as she entered, cutting off the haptic programming he was watching. "Ma'am."

She waved a hand. "Knock that shit off , Charles. How you doing?" She took in the big bandage over one eye and the replaced cybernetic arm that looked much more advanced.

He shrugged, wincing as he did so. "You've got some pretty good – and scary – doctors. The docs on Dirth said it would be almost impossible to walk again, these guys just sound irritated by it. And they're going to do some more prep-work for a cybernetic eye tomorrow." He frowned. "But that means I'm in no shape to back you up on your next mission."

She sat down in a comfortable leather chair across from him. "Don't sweat it. Just having you here helps." She glanced down at the floor. "I'm a little surprised at how calmly you're taking all this in."

Pressly gave a chuckle. "Some of it may be shock. But … I'm not blind, Shepard. I've been watching the news pretty closely ever since the Normandy went down, and taking a look at some of the more paranoid extranet sites. The idea that Cerberus is the only sane organization in the galaxy taking the action that needs to be taken is ugly … but not, if you think about it, too shocking."

She glanced up. "How is that?"

He adjusted his position slightly, his broad shoulders slumping as he did so. "The Council never struck me as caring much about humanity. I think we had a conversation about how I saw aliens, and the fact that humans are on the Council now still doesn't mean they give much thought to how the average joe lives. They are looking to keep the peace and not rock the boat."

He grimaced. "Watching the video of the Collectors taking out the people on Freedom's Progress isn't something they're going to want to face. It's more likely they have the STG or some other quiet group doing what they can in the background. Hell, they didn't want to believe the truth about Saren because it would disrupt the galaxy, and they kept quiet about the Reapers for the same reason – are you really surprised they're doing the same here?"

Shepard shrugged. "Inaction only gets people killed on the battlefield."

He nodded. "We both know that, but they aren't warriors."

Shepard snorted. "Sparatus and Valern were, and they should both know better."

Pressly sighed. "From what public minutes that I've seen, Councilor Sparatus is the only one pushing for continued military buildups and he seems .. frustrated a lot."

Shepard laughed, leaning back. "And there it is. I know I've finally gone goddamned crazy – Cerberus is the good guy and Sparatus is the Councilor with a brain." She looked at Pressly directly. "They're not what is pissing me off the most. The lack of action by the Alliance is."

At that, the bald man merely gave a sour expression. "I … have lost some faith in the Blue since the day the Normandy died, ma'am. Not just about my own situation. The game is politics and I was a casualty. But how they treated General von Grath, Tali, and Joker – the crap they did to Anderson – cashiering the marines to keep them quiet...it isn't right."

Shepard smiled. "Don't worry. We'll make them regret that shit." She ran a hand through her hair. "Still...it's good to talk to you about this. Agreeing to work with the Illusive Man...God, I almost couldn't make myself do it."

Pressly leaned back. "Well, I don't work for him. I work for you. So do the rest of us. And if it comes a day where you're called to account for working with the only people looking to fix the problems, I'll be right next to you, ma'am. Proudly."

She smiled again. "Can't ask for more than that. So. Miranda. You two talked?"

He shifted again. "We did. A rather formidable woman, very talented and driven. She told me more of how they … brought you back to life." A troubled expression crossed his face. "I think I can give her some advice, but she seems pretty fixated on the 'Cerberus is a good thing' line of thinking."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "...God, I hate to say this, Charles...but I'm having some doubts if she's totally wrong."

His expression hardened. "The Sara Shepard I knew never doubted her own path – and the things I saw on Edolus make buying that Cerberus is a good idea a fairly hard sell. They damn near got you and Liara killed."

She nodded. "They did. At the same time...fuck. If not for Cerberus, think about where we'd be. Harper said the Alliance was probably going to move on Liara in a bad way if she had .. not died, because of some of the things I found out about. I really doubt that Joker and Tali would be able to have made it, and if they'd gone back to the Flotilla and things ended out there the way they did what would they have done? No one was going after the Collectors, Jack would end up being sold to the goddamned Deathwatch, and you would still be suffering."

Pressly gave a faint, bitter sigh. "I know that … Sara." She glanced up as he used her name, something he rarely did, and he gave her a tired smile. "But I also know that men like Mr. Harper don't change their whole outlook very often. He may not be doing the same sort of things the rest of Cerberus was. Maybe Ms. Lawson's story about the AIS involvement, about this General Florez and a Williams being the bad actors is totally true."

He exhaled. "But even if that's the case, Cerberus did a lot of questionable acts before they got involved – killing the Pope, blowing up ships, killing aliens, and worse. I'm not ready to give them a free pass because they're finally not doing something appalling, because I don't know they're not."

She shrugged. "And how does this tie into your discussion with Miranda?"

He gave a wry smile. "Ms. Lawson is driven and talented – but she's got a lot of issues stopping her from being a good leader. She's confused being smart with thinking things through, and has trouble understanding that planning for problems doesn't mean assuming you aren't smart enough to catch every last mistake."

He shifted. "The man who taught me most of what I know was a crusty old bastard named McDaniels. Career officer, never would make it past lieutenant commander because he was a cousin of the Williams family. He said too many leaders want glory. He used to quote an old Chinese philosopher. 'A leader is best when people barely know he exists, when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say: we did it ourselves.'" Pressly gave a smile.

Shepard thought about that for a long moment. She'd seen her share of glory-hogging assholes get marines killed, and cretins like Branson who loved the limelight and publicity. But looking at it more deeply, she thought about the thousand little things Pressly did and rode herd on in her hunt for Saren, and during her time in charge of the Kazan, that got the job done. She finally nodded. "I can see that."

Pressly sighed. "Ms. Lawson wants … recognition. She wants praise, even if she might seem standoffish and full of herself. She doesn't yet get the point of being an executive officer is to provide the leadership, the organization, the detail work that people overlook."

He looked up at Shepard. "I'd never want to do your job, ma'am. I'm not strong enough, and the few times I had to face down admirals and the President when you were down I understood I just wasn't ready for that. Leadership is as much about growing yourself as it is growing the people under you ...and until Ms. Lawson learns she needs to grow some more, she won't be as effective as she could be."

Shepard smiled. "I still have no clue why they made me Anderson's XO and you the navigator. Hell, they could have made me the Battle Duty Officer and it would have made more sense." She smiled. "The good old days where I only had to worry about pointy-faced asshats."

The bald man ran his good hand over his scalp, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, we have a chance to see if we can't do better this time. I'm hoping some of what I've learned by having time to sit and think has let me grow as well...and like Joker said when he visited earlier, we have a lot more resources now, even if they are Cerberus. It will be better than the good old days."

She gave him a look. "Shit, I hope so. I died."

O-TWCD-O

Shepard found Jack in the biotic practice area, testing out her biotics. She had gone with an armored vest of sorts, with projected omni-fields over the chest, omni-field bracers, and strap-on armor plates over her thighs and shins. She was hurling thin lances of warpfire at one of the targets, the streams of energy curling and arching at sharp angles to strike with unerring precision.

The power of the strikes was impressive, but Shepard had never seen warp fire bend like that, or channel in such thin, beam-like streaks. She cleared her throat, scratching her chin as she stepped into the room more fully. "I see why they said you were different."

Jack smirked, trickles of sweat running down her features. "I ain't got much to be proud of, but this? I'm the best at this." With a grunt of effort she slammed her palm down on the decking, waves of storming blue energy flying across the metallic floor in a narrow arc towards the target, exploding into shockwaves only upon impact. The already stressed metal snapped with a loud bang, the heavy metal weight flying through the air to crash into the far wall with a resounding gong.

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "...that's handy."

The ex-Corsair girl tossed her head, wiping her forehead with her free arm after killing the omni-field bracers. "I can do shit no one else can do."

Shepard folded her arms, the thick white armor glimmering in the bright lights of the practice area. "I don't know your skillset, and Harper didn't give me a manual." A flicker of memory from her past bubbled up, remembering something Rachel had done with her as a Penal Legionnaire.

She walked forward, letting her arms fall to her sides. "I seem to recall you telling me some kind of bullshit about you being the worst nightmare I'd ever see. We have a little time before we ship out. Let's see what you got."

A flicker of conflicting emotions stormed across the girl's face, before they fixed on anger. "Your funeral, bitch. You slammed my ass around when I was thawing out and with no amp, but I'm the psychotic biotic for a reason."

Shepard merely mouthed the words Rachel had told her so long ago. "So much talk, so little action."

With a roar Jack hurled warpfire, six curving lines of it moving at differing heights and angles. Shepard sniffed and pulled up the wall evocation Trellani had taught her, using her will to bend it into a curved shape. She grunted as the spears of fire slammed into it with heavy impacts, but enjoyed the dumbfounded look on Jack's face.

"What the shit...that's a goddamned Wall! Only asari can do that!"

Shepard let it fall, flickers of biotic energy shimmering over her body. Stopping those hits had taken more than she had expected – little bitch was not that much weaker than she was. She didn't show that though, merely smirking. "Nice trick with the multiple angles. Most can only throw one at a time."

Jack looked confused at being complemented, frowning. "I...yeah. Some of what I do just shuts down other people's crap. But I can … split a lot of the powers . I can keep my shockwaves in the ground and have 'em pop up at the last second, invert my throw into a pull or my pull into a push, and throw two different evocations at once."

Both of Shepard's eyebrows came up at that. "This I have to see." She carefully placed her hands in the mnemonic shown to her by Trellani. Called the 'Shield of Athame', it was supposedly a method of disrupting biotic attacks that passed through it, stepping down their power.

Jack could feel the energy pouring off of Shepard, and despite herself bit her lip. "You flare like a goddamned asari, Shepard. Damn." With a deep exhalation, she focused her power, and with a yell of effort hurled a strong throw and a powerful lift.

Shepard's Shield blazed into biotic light, angry crackles of black lightning erupting from it, before shattering. The two powers, badly destabilized, detonated, sending her skidding back a good fifteen feet to slam against the far wall. Grunting, Shepard got up, frowning. "Still needs work."

Jack folded her arms. "Huh, not so fucking badass after all. Top that shit."

Shepard tilted her head. "If you insist..." With a wrench of energy, she flung a singularity, the dark orb of energy sailing well over Jack's head, but still strong enough to pluck her from her feet helplessly. Shepard killed the evocation before it began to grow in heat and let the biotic fall to the floor.

Jack sat up, eyes wide. "...okay, that is bullshit! Humans can't use goddamned singularities!"

Shepard put her hands on her hips. "By most ways of looking at it, I'm not really human any more, Jack." Her voice softened. "I won't lie to you. In a lot of ways you are probably the better biotic. You have a lot of power. You can use it in ways I can't. I rely on straight brute force...you seem to be creative with it."

Jack scowled. "Still fucking hax."

Shepard looked at her hands. "Maybe. But what makes a good biotic isn't merely power, or skill. It's knowing when and where to use the stuff. One of the guys who trained me called it 'magical blue bullshit', and said that depending on it above actual skill would get me killed." She exhaled. "The second time I went up against a Glorious batarian, he almost did kill me."

She looked back up at Jack. "I want to teach you."

The younger woman narrowed her eyes. "Why? Just cuz you went through bad shit like I did don't mean I plan on copying you."

Shepard shook her head, walking over to Jack. She knelt down next to her. "I know that. But I also know that you're like me. You never had anyone to show you why shit had to be done a certain way, to point out the good and the bad, to teach you the right way." She glanced at the weapon on Jack's back. "That's a pretty big fucking gun for a girl of your size. Biotics let's you fire it."

Jack snarled. "Yeah. So the fuck what?"

Shepard smiled. "So what do you do when some ass flings an antibiotic grenade at you, or you get fouled with eezo dust?"

Jack paused, and said nothing, frustration in her eyes. Shepard tilted her head. "Well? I mean, in your way of doing shit, it's just you. No one to back you up. You get your biotics taken down, you can't even lift that fucking monster of a gun."

She stood, holding out her hand, and after a second Jack took it, getting to her own feet. "I'm not saying this shit to tear you down. I had a guy tell me I was a fucking clown, and he beat my ass in shitty armor with a pistol when I threw everything I had at him – and he wasn't even biotic. That was the day I learned the lesson he wanted me to – biotics is a tool, not an all purpose thing."

Jack looked away. "It's all I got. I ain't smart. I … don't have anything else to … to make me me."

Shepard snorted. "Used to think that way too. It's wrong. And that's why I want to teach you. I don't want you to be like me. You have your own skills, and you are your own person. But that doesn't mean I can't pass along some of the shit I've picked up to make you better, and maybe learn something in return."

Jack looked up at her. "...you're really weird, Shepard. What if I decide after you teach me to turn on you?"

Shepard shrugged. "If it happens, then it happens. If I've learned anything it's that fear of shit going wrong is more likely to keep you running in place, miserable with your life, than shit actually going wrong. I'm not here to make your choices, just offer choices."

She exhaled. "And besides, I think you're strong. Strong enough that I can teach you something that made me a big part of what I am, if you think you're up to it."

Jack swallowed, then narrowed her eyes. "I'm up for anything, bitch. If you can do it, so can I."

Shepard smiled wider. "Then follow me to the armory. We need to go over some non-biotic tactics."

Jack sullenly nodded, then scowled. "And what about biotics? You gonna teach me how to do that too?"

Shepard paused thoughtfully. "...I don't know. Most of the stuff Trellani has shown me I can only pull off because of what they've done to me. I guess I could show you the dancing kanquess, but that comes back to making you a copy of me, doesn't it?"

Shepard glanced over her shoulder. "I think you'd do better mastering the stuff you already know. It's a lot more badass than a biotic pogo stick, after all." She walked out of the room, and Jack's scowl weakened as she considered the words and the complement before huffing and following.

O-TWCD-O

Jacob hunkered the broad bulk of the ATLAS mech down behind an already smoking pile of storage bins, muttering. "This is some straight bullshit you got me in, girl."

The overly cheery voice of Kasumi Goto in his comm-link sounded almost impishly pleased. "Taylor-san, I'm overjoyed you came to rescue me! But please. More shooting. I don't have a nice big mech to hide from the explosions in, after all!"

He shook his head. "And at the rate he's going I won't either for much longer."

Grimacing, he stutter-stepped sideways, bringing up the secondary missile system and popping up to launch a spray of missiles at the hovering gunship currently firing down at the landing area behind the palatial home they'd infiltrated earlier. The ship was hammered, but its kinetic barriers held firm and it began to move back towards his direction.

"Shit! What does it fucking take to drop this thing!"

As he moved into cover, he wondered just where this shit had gone wrong. Trellani had gone to Bekenstein to pick up Goto after some kind of heist she was going to pull, along with her sidekick, a creepy asari thief named Ghost-Step.

He didn't know all the details, only that Kasumi, Ghost-Step and Trellani had snuck into a big party a crime lord named Donovan Hock was throwing. This Hock was the son of the famous Castor Hock, big shot mercenary and gunrunning asshole taken down back in the day by Tyriun No Kage before his death.

The infiltration went fine, but Trellani was concerned – Hock had a private army and was gathering a great deal of materials for war, and if they were discovered she wanted an exit plan more in depth that merely winging it. Thus, Jacob had hustled through the relays along with a battlesuit and about thirty of Vigil's souped up RAMPART mechs in one of the base's stealth frigates.

Getting past the planetary security net was rough, even with Vigil's hacking. They'd managed to set up about two miles from Hock's palatial home in the Bekenstein High Hills, overlooking the glittering lights of the capital.

The party had gone on for hours, and at some point, while Ghost-Step caused distractions, Trellani and Kasumi had snuck into an underground bunker and stolen something vital from Hock. That was when the shit blew up.

Ghost-Step was apparently killed in a firefight in the house itself, buying time for a badly shaken and upset Kasumi and Trellani to escape. Kasumi's usual skill at bypassing security had been affected by the death of her friend, and before long they'd been pinned down by swarms of Hock's private merc forces.

Jacob had already started to move in when Trellani apparently lost her temper. Cut off by a horde of soldiers, the matriarch had used her biotics to incinerate many of the soldiers, and had melted a way through several security doors seeking to block their escape, snarling in annoyance as she did so.

Kasumi herself had rallied and avenged her friend, and had then taken the liberty of blowing up most of Hock's priceless gun collection. When a second wave of mercs had burst upon them, Trellani had drawn her warp sword and, according to Kasumi's breathless play-by-play as she fought, 'went through them like a samurai in an old Tarantino flick".

He had to admit, this Kasumi girl made him laugh.

Fleeing from increasing amounts of hostiles, Trellani had instructed Jacob to strike and send the shuttle in for a hot pickup. He'd been about to do so when Kasumi reported she'd been cut off by yet another security door - this one complete with a phase nullification barrier - and that Trellani was trapped. Jacob was going to try to directly storm the complex and free her when the Matriarch countermanded that idea.

"Mr. Taylor, the information Ms. Goto possesses is vital – both to my own plans and to Mr. Harper's. You must get her out alive no matter the cost.I will make my own way out via an alternative path, but leave me behind if you must.."

He'd winced. "The big man isn't going to like the idea of me leaving you behind, Matriarch...gotta say, I don't roll that way either."

The snarl of warp energies and screams that echoed through the commlink only made her amused growl scarier. "I assure you, Mr. Taylor, I'm in little danger, although they have ruined this dress completely. Go."

If her biggest concern was the fact her dress was ruined, he assumed she could handle whatever she'd run into. So he'd dropped his mechs – sending them into cover and extract the master thief – and had been caught by surprise when Hock himself showed up in a super-heavy Phantasm mass effect gunship, sporting Silaris armor and ship-grade kinetic barriers along with heavy weapons.

He didn't think he had the firepower to take the thing down, as it was bouncing his cannon attacks and shrugging off his missile hits. His armor plating was scored heavily already, and the artificial canopy was cracked. The ATLAS was a conversion of some old diving mechs Cerberus ran across, and in most situations against a gunship he'd have no issues, but this gunship wasn't even close to spec.

He backed up further as more mass accelerator fire hammered his position, and calculated his odds on foot if his mech went down. They weren't good. And he was about out of both tricks and options.

Taking a deep breath, he keyed the mike. "Hey, Goto – I'mma draw his attention best I can. You need to get the shit out – shuttle is over the hills, and it has an autopilot. If I can draw him enough you can swing back and grab Trellani and get the hell out."

The Japanese woman's voice was tight. "And you, Taylor-san?"

He fired back a burst from his gun, gratified to see the gunship's shielding flickering more rapidly now, but stammering out a curse as another round from its guns blew a hole clean through the leg of his mech. "Pretty sure my number is up, girl."

"Tsk. You can't rescue the damsel in distress if you give up so easily. Let's see what I can do..."

He shook his head, firing everything he had. The flare of firepower blossomed over the shielding of the gunship, finally taking it down, but bounced almost impotently off the gleaming Silaris armor. Jacob backed away further, attempting to draw the gunship out.

A cruel, accented voice boomed over a loudspeaker. "You are a talented suit pilot, whoever you are. If Miss Goto is paying you for assistance, I am sure it isn't enough to die for – and I pay much better."

"Eat a dick!" He fired again, snarling as the gunship nimbly dodged, coming in low so that it could get a better shot off with the slung-forward missile pods.

"A pity."

He wrenched at the controls, even a flare of the pods bloomed. Hard explosions rocked the ATLAS, systems failing as alarms flared and the right leg stopped responding. Lifting his chin, he stared at the hovering gunship, framed in the smoke from its missile launches, and nodded to himself, his breathing calm.

Least I got to see Pops again. He's gonna take me dying hard…

Even as he thought that, though, a blur of black leapt up from a stack of crates, landing nimbly on the gunship's now lowered wing surface. The hooded figure lifted a glowing omni-tool and slammed it directly into the diagnostic port of the gunship, and arcs of electricity erupted in all directions from it, even as the engines began to smoke.

The slender figure gave a jaunty salute to the blackened glass cockpit of the gunship and leapt away in a high arch, somersaulting to come down in a three point landing stance, as the gunship began to wobble across the sky and slew to the right. Jacob watched in disbelief as the thing slammed directly into a stack of fueling crates with a titanic blast, fragments of splintering armor flying out in a deadly cloud.

The form of Goto fell back with a pained shriek, a thin but long piece of metal stuck in her thigh. With his mech not moving at all, Jacob popped the hatch and leapt down, drawing his Eviscerator shotgun and bringing up his biotic barrier.

He rushed to her side, covering her, before pulling his medical pack from his back. "Stay down, I gotcha." She gave a shaky nod, blood pooling rapidly below her legs, letting out only a faint whimper of pain.

The woman was definitely well built, her flat-black armor hugging her body, and her cowl had fallen back from her face, revealing dark and yet almost vulnerable looking eyes, a pretty face dominated by the lip bisected by a purple mark, and glossy black hair savagely tied back into a pony tale. She let her eyes rove over him as he flipped the kit open and then began unbuckling the armor plate on her thigh.

She gave him a deadpan look when he cut away the undergarment that the armor was attached to with a field knife. "While you do look … tasty, I think you're going a bit fast for our first date, no, Taylor-san?"

Despite the pain she was in, her voice remained playful, and he rolled his eyes.

"That was the craziest shit I've seen in a long time, miss, and I used to roll with DACT day in day out. The hell did you do to his gunship?"

She winced as he pulled the splintered armor plate and blood soaked cloth away and began drawing the jagged splinter of armor out of her thigh, gritting her teeth as she spoke. "Oh, you know. Just a farewell gift. You were in the military, Taylor-san? Repensum est canicula and all that. He killed someone very important to me."

Jacob nodded absently, ignoring the expanse of pale flesh to focus on the gory wound in said flesh. "Damn, girl. Remind me not to ever piss you off."

As he finished extracting the piece of Silaris armor and tossed it to one side, he pulled out a spindle of flash-thread and began drawing the edges of the ragged wound together before he applied medigel. The shard had barely nicked the femoral artery, but even a nick could kill her in short order if he didn't hurry.

Given that the thief was on her back and in serious pain, and he was totally focused on fixing up her leg before she bled out, it was understandable he wasn't as aware of his surroundings as he should have been. His first reminder of that was the heavy caliber bullet smashing into his back and throwing him forward atop Kasumi, as he spat blood.

He rolled off of her reaching for his shotgun, and a second shot caught him in the shoulder, forcing him to drop it in agony. Striding forward from the burning wreckage of his gunship, Donovan Hock was limping, bloody, smoking and burned, but the smoking barrel of his Carnifex was held steadily. "You have cost me more than you understand, Goto. It ends here!"

He had enough time to get that sentence out before a hard blast of blue fire engulfed him from one side, making him shriek and spin around in agony. A moment later he was lifted from his feet by biotics, and flung a dozen feet to one side, where an almost arrogant slash of a warp sword bisected him.

His lower torso collapsed immediately as his upper half sailed another dozen feet before landing in a gruesome splat, the look of shock and pain etched on Hock's features frozen in place obscured a second later by a final blast of warp fire.

Jacob gingerly sat up, clutching his shoulder, to see Matriarch Trellani standing there. Smears of red gore and viscera splashed her once-elegant gown, now torn in places and stained with her own blood, and her arm was hastily bandaged by a sloppy application of medigel, but her expression was calm as she examined the two of them before shaking her head and sheathing her bloodied sword after an application of warp fire to clean the blade.

"We have what we came here for, and Mr. Hock... " Her lips crooked into a wickedly evil smile … "has seemed to...what is the parlance? Ah yes. Seems to have split."

A moment passed, then Kasumi groaned as if in pain. "Trellani-sama, that was terrible."

Using his biotics to lighten his weight, he sat up fully, and examined his shoulder. "I gotta get my arm patched up and her leg, before we both bleed out – can you keep an eye out? I didn't think that bastard could walk off crashing his shit into a fuel dump, and I don't need any more surprises."

The asari nodded, her eyes flickering around the smoking ruin of the landing area. "The mechs you sent into the complex were of great value – I am unsure I would have survived otherwise. A few still remain and are delaying pursuit but we must move quickly. The crash has only highlighted that there is trouble here, and Commissars and police units are on their way. Vigil is reporting extreme difficulty with keeping our presence quiet – the Alliance is flooding the data-sphere with the Silver Legion."

Jacob nodded and got to his knees. "I'll make it quick as I can, but the lady here is in a bad way. Her femoral artery got clipped and some muscles are probably severed, I don't think she can walk."

Goto fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Surely a big, strong man like yourself can carry someone like me?"

Jacob just blinked, then reached for his med-kit to find some medigel for himself, giving the thief a shake of the head.

Why is it only the crazy chicks go for me?