A/N:

More moving things into position. And some talky stuff. Horizon is coming, gentle readers, very soon.

As usual, thanks to the Editing Gang for their efforts, corrections, clarifications and fixes. They deserve more credit than I do.

Brokenby Sirrocco just updated after a pretty long down time.


'The nature of revenge is the pursuit of perceived fairness, while justice is only concerned with maintaining order and preventing chaos. Those who confuse the two are rarely truthful with themselves when it comes to why they pursue revenge. Justice does not mute the pain in one's soul nor erase the memories of better times now smeared with loss and pain.'

- Benezia T'Soni, 'No Single Raindrop Blames Itself For the Flood'


Tela Vasir sighed and wondered, yet again, what in the depths of the sea was the Council of Matriarchs thinking when they assigned her this mission. No stated goals, no real support, endless 'suggestions' and clues that all turned out to be shallow waves, and worst of all, theories that would shame the most paranoid salarian tossed about one after the other that all panned out to nothing.

And as if it wasn't bad enough answering to four different masters in this mess, she was forced to tag along with what she could only call a cosmic vortex of improbability.

It wasn't 'unlucky'. Unlucky was cutting yourself with a knife, or forgetting to load phasic rounds when dealing with a Blue Suns merc. Unlucky was things that happened to everyone once in awhile.

'Unlucky' did not cover the staggering array of strange and extremely unlikely things she had encountered while working with him, including an uncharted black hole, a hostile AI, an ardat-yakshi and a goddess-be-damned jump drift incident that nearly blew up her ship.

Given that, she fully expected the incoming message request to be yet more bad news, or possibly the announcement that a fluke accident had cured the Genophage.

The fact it was coming in on a one-time encryption pad in the low billions of digits did not help her headache at all. And upon further examination, the header identified it as being from the House of Storms, which had sent her stomach into sour convulsions, made even worse by the realization that it was the Queen Matriarch's personal key.

As she waited for the ship to move into the proper position for real-time comms, she glanced around the overseer room aboard her cruiser, the asari equivalent of a CIC. Unlike human and turian ships, the overseer room was buried deep inside the vessel, acting both as a backup bridge and fallback point in case of boarding actions. Hidden behind bands of Silaris armor and reactive force shielding, it was wired into the sensors of the ship.

The map in the center of the room, holoprojected onto a pool of water, was currently clear except for the small task force of ships under her Spectre partner, Delacor. The human Spectre was a good fighter, but stubborn and inclined to think his way was always best. Indeed, much of her frustration in her current role could stem from that. He'd not wanted to stop to allow Tela to communicate with the asari government, claiming their mission from the Council was more important.

Most Spectres were appointed by their governments, after approval from the Council. They retained a dual role, of whatever military rank and position most held in their race as well as their Spectre credentials. The upshot of that was that it more often than not fell to the Council to equip and outfit the Spectre for service, as few militaries were going to simply hand top of the line equipment to be used without their oversight. This, of course, made the Spectre force mostly beholden to the Council's interests. There were Spectres who were, of course, more independent – Saren was the most famous of these, having owned multiple corporations to pay for his wide array of technological toys and expensive ships.

Other Spectres, like Jondum Bau, were simply independently wealthy enough to literally finance themselves. While House Vasir was hardly poor, its fortunes had waned since the fall of Aethyta as matriarch and the near-total collapse of the Armali Council.

Tela, taking the advice of her family, had broke the standard mold when it came to funding, since her family couldn't afford it and she did not relish the idea of being beholden totally to the Citadel. She retained a rank in the asari military, but not in the naval service – technically she was a high huntress in the militia of the city-state of Serrice. In that capacity she answered pretty much solely to the Council of Matriarchs. The advantage this gave her was the right to raise and muster huntresses of her own, for her personal use, without oversight.

Her funding came from her open relationship with the Shadow Broker, who had paid for, among other things, the cruiser she used, and gave her the resources to retain such personnel as retired war priestesses, salarian gunners, and turian pilots. On the side, she also had a commission with the House of Vasir, in return for the use of the House battle-suit from time to time.

As an active duty Spectre – one of the most senior – she also had to answer both to the Council and occasionally to the whims of Tevos. All of this added up to a great deal of independence… on paper. In practice, she often found herself spending more time carefully making sure requests from one party that backed her didn't interfere with the wishes of another.

Which was why this mission was a headache.

The Broker wanted her to go to Ilium, and eliminate the thorn in his side known as the Sisters of Vengeance. The Council wanted her to work with Delacor to localize the Butcher and Cerberus. House Vasir wanted her to investigate rumors that Aethyta had perhaps survived, based on something they heard from some Remembrance Dancer. The asari government, such as it was, wanted her to spend more time on Thessia training huntresses.

She glanced again at the comm panel, fidgeting in her seat as the ship moved through space to get into the correct transmission lane. A direct request from Matriarch Thana T'Armal could not simply be ignored, after all.

The senior-most of her navigation officers spoke, her dark purple features somewhat tense as her hands flew over blue-tinted haptics. "Mistress, we are currently in the tier one comm-lane. Signal strength is good, establishing encryption links now."

Tela nodded, standing. "Good. Make very sure the humans don't try to tap the signal. I'll be in my chamber, if Delacor asks how long this will take tell him I don't know, but it is akin to a request from the Lords of Sol."

She exited the overseer room, heading down a gently sloping ramp to the commander's chambers. Unlike many asari ships, the Stormwind's Spirit was almost militant in its lines, a carry-over of the time in which it was built, during the Second Refusal War. It lacked the elegant gallery and tiered sleeping areas of more modern ships for well-armored protection, and the chambers she stepped into were no exception.

She lived more aboard this ship than anywhere else, the walls festooned with mementos and knickknacks of her travels and battles. The curved walls were likewise decorated with pictures of herself and other famous Spectres – Bau, Saren, Ventrius, even one with Shepard.

Some of the décor wasn't purely asari – the floor was mostly covered by an elcor meditation grove-mat, and she'd replaced all her chairs with sinfully comfortable human ones. She sat down in the human-style swivel chair she'd gotten from Earth fifteen years prior, and steadied her features as she tapped the comm panel on her battered desk.

"Spectre Tela Vasir, codelock nine six thiana elthsiar eight."

The far wall slid apart, revealing a holo-projection screen, which flickered to life, displaying the ancient but still unlined features of the asari ruler. Thana's eyes were narrowed and her mouth had a cruel twist to the lips, neither of which made Tela feel any happier. The dress she wore, made from what had to be Thessia sea-silk, probably cost as much as Tela's entire wargear.

She forced a pleasant tone to her voice and a smile to her face and spoke. "Queen Matriarch, I have hastened to attend to your words. I apologize for the delay, the... human I am paired with in my Spectre duties is somewhat obstinate."

Thana gave a graceful nod. "Apologies are unneeded, and your cooperation is appreciated. I understand you are already heavily over-tasked, but I require your assistance with a... delicate situation that has arisen."

Tela nodded. Frankly, the fact the matriarch reached out to her instead of one her personal Spectres like Viatha T'Armal made her even more worried, but defiance was stupid. "I am yours to command."

The other asari gave a brief smile at that. "Pity your aunt and matriarch is not so agreeable. No matter. I recently came into... a source of delicate, sensitive information. For the moment, the details of who obtained it are irrelevant. The information received is firm confirmation that the Butcher, whoever she may be, is working directly with Cerberus, not merely associated with them."

Vasir kept the displeasure from showing on her face. "I can only presume this development has not been conveyed to the Citadel Council?"

Thana's thin smile widened. "You would be correct, Vasir. The source I am using is not one I am willing to reveal at this time. I may decide later on to release the information via other channels, but given the Council's lack of reaction so far I prefer more … direct action. My larger concern is that my source is very certain the Butcher is not Liara T'Soni – that she died on Omega. If that is the case, our working theories are simply wrong and must be discarded."

Tela nodded. "How do I fit into this?"

The matriarch made a sign of siari separation. "Normally I would take this information to my fellow Matriarchs, and then to the Citadel Council. However, I fear they might simply exacerbate the problem. Whoever this person is, they are a player in the Game – to simply try to remove them from the board is likely to end... poorly. And that does not even begin to cover the nightmare that is Jack Harper. Frankly, the human has more than once showed his skill is every bit the equal of the Thirty or the SIX. Thus, rather than blind reactions, I need to consider other options."

Tela held her tongue, wondering when Thana would say what she wanted.

The matriarch leaned forward. "You have a... somewhat close relationship with the human Admiral Ahern, yes? The one who stopped the krogan assassin from Aria from killing me? He remains in charge of this sanctioned AI that provided the correlation to T'Soni in the first place, does he not? The AI that was critical in providing guidance in countering the geth?"

Tela nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "Yes. After that incident with the krogan, and a few other mishaps, we have remained in contact and have worked together often. He is my primary source of insight into the human military, as he is one of its core architects. The AI is... very advanced, and is excellent at bringing together disparate pieces of information and producing results others may have missed."

Thana gave a satisfied looking smile. "Very good. Exactly what we need. Convey to him the following data points. First, we have confirmed that the Butcher is not Liara T'Soni, and it is extremely unlikely that any ardat-yakshi could have imitated her. Second, analysis of the sword styles used in the brief video segments we have indicate this person's bladework is not that of the styles used by the Thirty. It most closely resembles the styles used by the Starward Facing of Clan Hearthwatch. This person may have been trained by Trellani. If so, she has access to most if not all of the restricted biotic skills of a priestess."

Thana tapped a control out of sight of the image pickup. "Third, video images from Omega show the ship the Butcher travels on is a clear modification of Shepard's ship, the Normandy – and has the same name. Scans were inconclusive except in proving it has both the IES stealth system and what appears to be highly effective visual cloaking. Fourth, sensor and scanner readings confirmed that the AI known as Vigil is taking an active hand in helping the Butcher in her tasks, and by extension is working for Cerberus as well."

Vasir frowned. Vigil? Well that should go over well... ugh. Aloud, she merely nodded her head. "That is indeed quite alarming, Your Grace."

Thana tapped another control, then turned back to face the view-screen. "Yes. While I won't go into details, as they are not important, certain asari agents have now ascertained that the main thrust of Cerberus investment in the past two years was all directed towards bio-tech. It has taken a very long time to untangle the layers of holding and shell companies, but we are now fairly certain Cerberus bought out several companies working with brain enhancement and memory, cloning and cybernetics. And two somewhat well known doctors - Wilson and Ahankar, I've forwarded their files - were last seen around the time Cerberus went on this buying spree. I doubt you are familiar with them, but they are some of the human's most skilled medical professionals, and for them to simply vanish is unlikely."

Tela nodded, tapping a finger to accept the upload even as the matriarch's voice became harder. "Wilson was known for his work on reviving the human President Huerta from brief brain-death, and Ahankar carried out a series of research projects on advanced cybernetic integration with blueware."

Thana folded her hands together. "I am aware that Ahern is unlikely to want to waste the processing time of his chained AI on determining what this all could lead to, but that is my request. As it will no doubt require some time for you to execute, you can explain to Spectre Delacor that this is a request of the asari government. And, unless I am mistaken, he will soon be dispatched elsewhere by his own government."

Vasir nodded. "I see, Your Grace. Do I have permission to share this data with... other parties that might assist?"

Thana's eyes hardened ever so slightly. "I presume you mean the Shadow Broker? I am not fool enough to think the Broker does not already know much of this. If you wish to see what he knows to confirm, I do not mind if he is aware we know the same. However the information regarding whatever Ahern's AI comes up with should not be shared with anyone." The matriarch's expression became disdainful.

"It is very likely, based on statements and actions, that the Butcher – and now, Archangel – have some sort of antipathy towards the Broker. I have lived long enough to see six Brokers, and most of them die when they overreach their grasp – this one may be headed for the same grisly end as his predecessors. And I do not think having any links to the Broker - or worse, clear indications that he received intelligence from us - is either wise or conducive to long life."

Vasir didn't think it was likely that the Broker could be taken out - anyone who terrified even Tetrimus was something she never wanted to encounter - but it was hardly her place to say such to Matriarch T'Armal. "Your wishes are my guidance. I will depart immediately for the Citadel – my ship needs refit anyway. Once I have answers or at least possibilities from Tradius I will contact you again, Queen Matriarch."

Thana nodded. "One... final piece of advice. And a warning. The fact that Vigil is working with Cerberus means every method of communication except laser-tightbeam or those using one-time pad encryption like this call are vulnerable. If some form of violence is required against the Butcher, I would get rid of anything that could be hacked. Reports from Omega indicate that hundreds of mechs belonging to the mercenary gangs hunting the Archangel were hacked at once during the assault. If Vigil is that powerful, in the hands of Cerberus it could be devastating."

Tela nodded. "I understand. I will contact you with a new one-time pad array via bonded courier before we speak again."

Thana nodded and cut the connection, and Tela slumped back in her chair. After a moment, she tapped the comms panel on the simple flat black desk in front of her. "Chelae, inform the navapath to set course for the Citadel, maximum rated speed. And get me Delacor."

And alcohol. In large quantities.

O-TWCD-O

At the same time Tela was being given her orders, Delacor was in a conversation with his nominal bosses, Councilor Udina and Admiral Mikhailovich. It wasn't a happy conversation, but then again, talking with the people in charge of him rarely was.

At least he wasn't taking his orders from Admiral Schulman any longer, but that was the only good thing that had happened in his career as a Spectre so far.

Delacor had once been excited to be a Spectre. He knew he'd been in the running when they picked Shepard, and when they'd tapped him to take the spot she once held he'd been overjoyed.

Now he was looking forward to the idea that he could possibly retire to get away from it all. The fights he'd gotten into were horrific, the knowledge he'd been exposed to disgusted him, and the fact that he had not died heroically like Shepard and Ross had somehow soured the public on his exploits, as if not dying was somehow gauche.

And that didn't even cover his irritation with the crew of the Kazan. At least he had an amiable relationship with Williams, the woman surprising him over the years. But Jiong never did bother to warm to him – although that, he mused, may have had to do with the fact that he'd warmed too much to Shepard, and still blamed himself for her death.

It always came back to Shepard. The propaganda machine of the SA had turned her into a near Saint, with actual sainthood being discussed by the Pope. The whitewashing of her name and past insulted Delacor, not only because it ignored what she'd been, but it ignored the fact that she had changed herself towards the end of her life.

He didn't hate her. He was, even now, still impressed at the turnaround she'd pulled in her life, and having investigated her death had left him with a grim appreciation that she at least knew how to die well, unlike certain glory hounding idiots he could name. The problem he had was that people kept comparing him to Shepard, and he would always end up being second place to the dead.

The fact that his bosses were fairly disdainful of his own efforts to measure up didn't help things any. They delighted in sending him on wild goose chases, like going after the Butcher, and now had another one for him. He folded his arms across his chest and stared hard at the images on the view screen in his ready room. "With all due respect, sirs, this sounds like... a less than optimal use of resources."

Donnel Udina, dressed in a black drape-coat and a slate gray tie, gave a sardonic smirk. "Once again, you have an excellent grasp of the obvious. In terms of military usage, I agree."

But before Delacor could speak, Udina's smirk widened. "But this is politics, not military, Captain. The current wishes of the Addison Administration is to leave all of the wildcats out in the cold. Despite the fact that we now know the attacks aren't pirates, there's no way to convince that moron Branson to cut loose even a scout picket for any of them."

Mikhailovich gave a sour nod of disgust. "Since the fuckwits in charge have us tied up, we need a way to keep an eye on the independents without... formally admitting such. There are only three wildcat worlds worth spit – Neo Tokyo, Horizon, and Noveria. The rest are either too small to care about, too far out for us to do much more than make angry faces at them, and frankly, politically distasteful."

The admiral leaned back in his chair. "Now, Noveria is technically within Council Space, and its defenses are stronger than ever. That doesn't even take into account the colony is highly distributed and buried underground in many places – it would take a long time to raid it. Neo Tokyo is full of those 'banshi' nutjobs, and if anyone wants to go and kidnap people who think dying in battle is the only way to go, they're welcome to it."

Delacor nodded. "Whereas Horizon is wealthy, home to millions, and has very light defenses because it was reliant on Freedom's Progress for that. Alright, I can see that much. Since I somehow doubt common sense has erupted and Horizon has decided to join the SA, I can only assume your statement that this is political means some other group is involved. So... what's the plan?"

Udina smiled thinly. "The 'plan' is simple. A volus investment bank has decided to gamble on Horizon as being the most likely to agree to join the Vol Protectorate. As a result, they don't wish the planet to fall. The VDF is sending four transports to Horizon – carrying GARDIAN defense systems, orbital x-ray burst emitters, and rapid-fire GTS trucks."

Udina's expression became stern. "Thanks to scandals at home, Addison is distracted from the situation on the border, and Richard Manswell is busy with the election campaign. No one is really watching the situation. And while we can't send any official Alliance forces... your battle group could be dispatched there to 'oversee' the preparations, if we call this a Spectre operation."

Mikhailovich rubbed his nose. "Don't get us wrong : I'd much rather the idiots on Horizon agree to join the SA. But that's not going to happen. Failing that, I'd prefer not having more humans dragged off by giant bugs to God knows where. It's going to take a long time to get the defense set up, especially since they don't have any specialists to help. If you're there, then we're hoping maybe the Collectors – or whoever is behind this mess – will hit another less defended world. And once the defenses are set up they should be able to handle themselves."

Delacor sighed. "Freedoms' Progress was pretty heavily defended, and those defenses didn't do a lick of good. And from what little we know about the Collectors, they are more advanced than us."

Udina nodded. "Which is another reason to send you – so you can brief the Horizon Chamber on what you saw on Freedom's Progress, and what we know about the threat. As for the effectiveness of the defenses, from what we gathered Freedom's Progress relied mostly on VI's and mechs for the first line of defense, and those were hacked. The systems the volus are sending are manually operated, hard-link connection systems that can't be hacked externally."

The counselor gave a wintry smile. "And while the Collectors are probably more advanced, the Kazan has an awesome amount of killing power with the six remaining Kyle-class torpedoes you have, enough to hopefully make them hesitate."

Delacor gave a sour, reluctant nod. "And what about the whole thing with the Butcher? Do I stop trying to find leads?"

Mikhailovich rolled his eyes. "After the stunt she pulled on Omega getting that spike out of there, son, I'm starting to think you don't have much chance in finding her. And if you did find her ...frankly, the bitch killed Okeer in single combat. Both you and Vasir would be a light snack even if she was running alone, and now she's hooked up with this Archangel lunatic."

He adjusted his dress top. "The issue isn't dropped...but for the moment let's put finding the Butcher on hold. We're still gathering data and intelligence on her anyway, and for the moment the Horizon issue is more important."

Delacor could not help but arch an eyebrow. "Sirs, while I understand the reasoning behind warning the Horizoners, and even providing assistance, why is this so important? And why now? I don't want humans to be abducted either, but we've pretty much confirmed if it is the Collectors there isn't jack-all we can do about it. For that matter, why isn't the VDF sending protection of its own?"

Mikhailovich rolled his eyes. "The VDF is still pretty small in terms of numbers - it's expanding, but slowly, and all of it is currently tasked beyond capacity with protecting volus shipping or Council requests. They're putting together a force, but it's expected to be two to three months until it's ready. There's also some political maneuvering involved, as I understand it, between the Horizoners and the volus, as to status and remuneration, which is causing further delays. As for the rest..." He gestured to Udina.

Udina's usual sour expression puckered further. "There may have been a suggestion made by the Vol Court of Corporations to certain... parties inside the Alliance... that our assistance in this matter would be greatly reciprocated in a financial aspect. The SA Corporate Court also has certain interests on Horizon that they don't want threatened, although they've declined to outline exactly what those consist of."

Delacor's eyebrow arched higher. "And the Council has signed off on this … side trip?"

Udina sighed. "In return for additional AIS assets in tracing the Butcher. And in any event, the Council's lack of any real action or even political statements concerning the Butcher is basically tacit agreement for you to act." Udina's expression altered. "In fact, the lack of a plan or policy aside from 'arrest her if you find her' is disturbing … and most probably means that they are relying on non-Council assets like the Deathwatch or STG to go after her."

Delacor nodded, and Udina continued. "Ultimately, however, there is a concern among Alliance Command that something needs to be done to prevent further attacks, since the Council has no way to control the chaos that would erupt it if were widely known that the colony disappearances are indeed being done by Collectors."

The admiral grimaced. "And if it does come out, all hell will break loose. We'd have to try a blockade around the relay, and given that it would mean moving a huge fleet to Aria's doorstep, Aria is unlikely to cooperate. That would be an ugly, long and drawn out war."

Udina folded his arms. "And as for 'why now', the salarians claim they have determined some sort of pattern to the attacks. Neo Tokyo and Noveria are very unlikely targets, while Horizon is the most likely candidate for the next attack."

Admiral Mikhailovich grunted. "In any event, your orders are simple: protect the VDF as they set up the defenses, present what you know to the Horizon Chamber, and protect the colony from any hostile attacks. When the VDF warships and vorcha troop complements finally show up, you and your battle group will get three weeks leave to make up for it."

Delacor nodded. "Understood, sirs. Anything else?"

Udina's eyes met his. "If you are attacked by Collectors, your highest priority is to confirm and then notify the Council. We have no hard data on their capabilities, but even with the Kyle torpedoes it is very likely they will have you outgunned. While we want Horizon defended, if you estimate the encounter is not survivable, retreat. The only thing worse than losing another wildcat colony would be losing our last Spectre."

Delacor winced. "I'm good at staying alive. I'll contact you again when I reach Horizon."

He clicked off, and tapped his comm panel. "Lieutenant Traynor, I'll need comms with Spectre Vasir's ship."

The English accent of the comm lieutenant came back almost apologetically. "Yes sir – she's actually been waiting three minutes to talk to you."

He frowned. "Transfer to my ready room, lieutenant. Thank you." He clicked off, then triggered the viewscreen, fixing his eyes on the face of his partner. "Vasir."

The asari woman nodded. "Delacor. Look, I've been pulled off the Butcher search by my government for... something political. I'll probably be out of contact for at least a month, as my ship also needs refit." She gave an exasperated heave. "Not that we've found much of anything..."

Delacor leaned back. "Intriguing. I've also just been handed a political waste of time – babysitting VDF ships headed to Horizon and guarding it until the VDF gets there in force. My Councilor basically told me the volus bribed us into doing it. After that my crew is being given three weeks of leave."

He ran his thumb against his fingertips, his voice musing. "I find the coincidental timing... odd."

Vasir appeared to be thinking, then shook her head. "You may be right. I get the impression from the... person who contacted me that they feel the Butcher is too dangerous to be poking with a stick. Then again, some of the intelligence I'm going to be working on is fairly recent." She shrugged. "I guess I'll see you in a few months. At least try not to get killed."

Delacor merely nodded back. For an alien, she wasn't bad, and definitely easier on the eyes than a turian."I'll do my best, Vasir. If you need backup, let me know." He clicked off, then sighed in weary acceptance before tapping the comm panel yet again. "Lieutenant Helmsley, lay in a course for Horizon."

O-TWCD-O

Tazzik grimaced as he came aboard the command dreadnought of the Shadow Broker, wiping water out of his eyes from the storm outside. He understood on a practical level why the Broker kept his ship on this storm-wracked hellhole of a planet, but it certainly made getting here a pain in the back.

It didn't help that the entire ship looked like a tomb and smelled faintly of burned metal, or that one could hear the occasional scream that echoed from the interrogation levels.

He walked through the narrow blackened steel corridors, and then took a lift to the lower levels of the ship. Emerging onto the restricted access deck, he walked past the automated defenses and heavy mechs to enter into the Broker's sanctum.

As always, the Broker was at his massive desk, eyes flickering over the galaxy of haptic screens set in an array to his right. The massive, fanged head swung slowly to face him as he entered. "Tazzik."

The salarian nodded. "Job's done, boss. Didn't get anywhere as much data as I would have liked, but we did verify a few things."

The Broker's bulk swung around in the chair to face him fully. "Scans of Archangel and the Butcher?"

Tazzik sighed. "Very long range only. The armor of the Butcher is shielded, and I could only verify that the Archangel is indeed turian, with some cyberware. I've confirmed that Zaeed Massani is working for them. No sign of Goto. I nabbed the Blue Suns video archive, thanks to Avrensis, and that has some interesting snippets."

The Broker tapped several controls on his desk. "Anything of note?"

Tazzik's features drew back into a grin. "Two, actually. Advance to two forty seven point nine."

The Broker's massive clawed fingers tapped at the desk controls, and a holoimager sprang into life, displaying a snapshot from the chase of Archangel. The battered airtruck's back doors were open, and a number of figures could be dimly glimpsed within.

Tazzik pointed at one segment. "I had that cleaned up – the two people behind the guys in heavy armor and Zaeed would appear to be Doctor Mordin Solus of the STG, and a convicted terrorist known only as Jack who was tapped in one of our biotic cults but got away."

The Broker leaned back. "...ah. The Cerberus experiment. The one with the strange biotics."

Tazzik nodded. "Rumor has it that Solus split from the STG – openly – and is rogue, now. It almost looks like this Butcher is putting together a team of some kind to me, boss. We don't have an ID on the krogan yet, or the asari."

The Broker gave a grumbling emission, his equivalent to a sigh. "And the other thing of interest?"

Tazzik folded his arms. "One hundred twenty five point two. Just after the Butcher comes out of the roof to save Archangel."

Video flickered, then stopped. The Butcher was still in mid-air, trailing biotic power and her warp sword alight with energy as it sliced into the heavy battle-suit below. Above her, near the ceiling, a glowing set of silvery orbs hovered.

The Broker hissed in alarm. "The VI discovered by Shepard on Ilos. It was not destroyed."

Tazzik nodded. "Looks like, boss. Avrensis was able to map some kind of funky distributed pulse or flux of electromagnetic dissonance when our gunships went down and again when the suits and mechs of the PMC's all went haywire, and I'm guessing this thing did it. It certainly explains how the fuck the Cerberus assholes have been one step ahead of us for the past two years."

The Broker considered this. "And Avrensis?"

Tazzik shrugged. "He thought he was secure where he was. Declined our offer, although he was open to selling us more data in the future. Pretty sure Aria had him whacked by now, he wasn't very careful about meeting with me. He was gambling on the warlords taking Aria out with the PMC's. That would have been a good gamble if not for the Butcher showing up."

The yahg folded his massive hands in front of him, his rumbling voice musing. "I believe it is probably time for us to act against these agents of Cerberus. While the bulk of our active units are on the rim, all of our financial and support infrastructure is still vulnerable, and we can't afford for any additional setbacks to the plan. And the military assets we have will be useless, both in securing our retreat or against the Reapers if things go poorly. The fact that Harper has access to Vigil means we are much more vulnerable than I originally expected."

Tazzik took out a cigar and trimmed the tip. "So... we go hunting?"

The Broker shook his head. "Not so much hunting as baiting a trap. Harper has clearly invested a great deal of resources into the Butcher... bringing her down should set him back and give us time to maneuver."

Tazzik nodded, tossing the cut tip away. "How to bring her to grips is the question, then. You have good bait?"

The yahg nodded. "Indeed I do. The Sisters of Vengeance are not dead. After triggering the fusion reactor explosion, someone brought down a transport with a sabotaged FTL plotter on top of your double on Ilium."

Tazzik whistled. "Read about that on the way back. It's a damned shame we can't get those girls to work for us. I'm kinda flattered."

The Broker shrugged massive shoulders. "Tetrimus feels their interference will only persist if they leave Ilium, and our chances to localize and destroy them will plummet if they are roaming. And that cannot be tolerated - the damage they have done so far would be nothing compared to if they managed to disrupt our Bekenstein or Vanthir nexus points. This opportunity cannot be allowed to pass - the chaos there has the system on lockdown and they will be unable to leave. He is going to hunt them and eliminate the threat. You will go as well... and we will let slip that you both are hunting them."

Tazzik frowned, before lighting the cigar. "Boss... that's your bait? How can you be sure the Butcher will show?"

The Broker's voice was cruel sounding now. "The Butcher reacted to save Archangel when he was pinned down. I expect, given the chance, for the Butcher to try to repeat the act if the Sisters of Vengeance are run to ground. And while the Butcher may be dangerous, I do not think she is capable of handling both you and Tetrimus at the same time."

Tazzik nodded. "She's got backup, too – Archangel, Zaeed. Going to be really messy."

The Broker tapped a control, dismissing the holoprojector. "Take as many men as you need to ensure your success. I want this done, quickly and efficiently." He looked across at Tazzik, his tone dropping. "If possible, capture the Sisters – I want to know who sponsored them." He gave a rumbling growl. "While the damage the Sisters have caused is mostly localized to Ilium itself, their meddling has cost the Network billions, left us vulnerable to STG and Cerberus activity and is making clients doubt our efficiency."

Tazzik nodded, puffing on the cigar. "Understood... guessing we're not looking to capture the Butcher or Archangel?"

The Broker turned back to his displays. "No. I prefer to keep the random variables to a minimum. Kill them."

O-TWCD-O

Liara stared tiredly at the news feed, before rubbing her good eye blearily and cutting it off. It had been an extremely long day, sifting through all the queries and interest in the recent 'terrorist' bombing of an entire fusion plant, followed not long after by a 'core malfunction' in a freighter that had crashed into the surface of the planet and wiped an entire town from the globe. Endless requests from anguished family members, hunting for survivors. Auditors and executors, legal teams and nineteen Spectres, all of them requiring more and more data, or analysis.

Irony writ itself large in the fact that the lack of truly high-end information brokers was mostly due to Liara and Telanya having killed most of them. Their profits had grown ever larger, to the point where they had two satellite offices staffed by clanless asari – completely firewalled from their own systems, of course, and in other cities besides the capital.

They even had more than a few real STG ops officers swing by to take advantage of their data connections, who wryly expressed their admiration in the Vantirus Sisters lying to the galaxy about working directly for the STG without being called on it. Of course, rumor saw these open visits as simple confirmation, while wiser minds assumed the link had been openly proven, removing the need for obviously secret visits that had somehow gone unrecorded.

The triumph of their cover, and the irony that they were rich, was not enough to remove the fact that every day dragged on longer, every night filled itself with terror and pain, and all that was left was killing a certain turian and his master.

A glance outside the windows of the Vantirus Information Systems office showed the sky cast into hues of purple and red-gold as the sun began to set, the lights of Ilium flaring into lines of purple and blue as the people wound down the work day and began to plan for their nights of entertainment and excess.

There was always excess on Ilium, and the more chaotic things became the more the excesses turned sickening. Behind the sealed doors and handsome bodyguards in some of the towering starscrapers would be parties of the most extreme carnality, drugs that seared the mind and 'indentured servants' put to vile purposes. More often than not, the unwilling participants in these events would be found on the streets in the morning, with a chemical mind-wipe and an idiot's expression.

A sigh of disgust broke her musing, as Telanya shut down her terminal and stood, stretching and arching her back. "Finished the final data manifests for the Vendbek Consortium. Money should clear in the morning. There's still an outstanding data arbitrage request from Cal Datha of the Vol Corporate Court, but it can wait."

Telanya's voice was as tired and worn as she felt, Liara thought, before standing herself and killing power to her terminal. "Very well. I suppose we might as well head home." She swallowed as she looked out the windows again, seeing the swarms of uncaring, blindly happy people move through the streets like oil on water.

Blind, foolish idiots.

It took five minutes to get to the groundcar they used, parked in a hard security zone just outside the building. As usual Telanya checked for bombs, traps and spy nano while Liara examined the surroundings for trailers or observers.

And as usual, they found nothing, and the drive home was without consequence and done in silence. Liara's own mind was going over the mess that had become their hunt for the Broker.

As she drove across the waterfront, she considered the situation. With the exception of low-level information brokers and a large number of soldiers, the Broker network on Ilium was smashed, and every attempt to restart it had been derailed. The accompanying chaos this had brought about had allowed the Thirty to enter into the situation, and now the conditions on Ilium were a whirlwind.

The Broker had not taken it lightly, and the number of wet-teams trying to end them had numbered in the dozens, but they all made two critical errors. The most important, of course, was that while orders for such hits were above their clearance on the Broker's Link network, they had breached it repeatedly using stolen credentials from their kills, eventually building their own dedicated back door. Every hit was known to them before they even arrived, making killing them little more than a slightly dangerous chore.

It wasn't that the Broker's assassins weren't good. But hunters did poorly when they unexpectedly became the hunted. Moreover, they were arrogant, assuming in what Shepard would have dismissed as being in love with their own badassery. And that was their second lethal mistake - they assumed they had the upper hand when in fact they did not.

Ahern's lessons in going for the quick kill had come in very handy. They never bothered to taunt their victims, killing them with any and every method that worked, often combined in complete overkill. If innocents got caught up in the crossfire...that was the sad and ugly price of doing business.

Any innocence Liara had, or any sense of lawful justice once possessed by Telanya, was buried under oceans of blood and an increasing lack of concern as their own mental states slowly crumbled.

Eventually, the Broker had stopped sending such teams. There were weak thrusts at establishing low level contacts that Liara permitted, but anything more than that was ruthlessly extinguished. It had an effect, in how people viewed the Broker. The myth of shadowy invincibility was broken. It was spreading beyond Ilium, even, and the effect would only get worse the longer the Broker was unable to bring them down.

Tetrimus' long planned trip to Ilium seemed as if it was never going to occur, and they had actually been making preparations to leave the planet when the reactor explosion happened. The detonation had destroyed the entirety of the Reclaimed Sisterhood, a group of lapsed siari practitioners who dedicated themselves to improving conditions for the poor and indentured on Ilium. Many of the corporations hated them for their meddling and legal trickery, and at first Liara had assumed the strike was done by one of them.

The next day requests had shown up on the Broker's Link asking if any activity of the Sisters of Vengeance was seen to report it, as the explosion was intended to take them out based on the intelligence they had. Liara was horrified that so many people would be killed just trying to get at them, while Telanya had pointed out that, if the Broker assumed they were dead, then this was the best time to leave and continue the hunt elsewhere.

And they would have, if not for the sighting of Tazzik they had. Liara knew that Tazzik suddenly exposing himself had to be a trap, but this was the only chance they had at directly finding out anything regarding the Broker. If Tazzik himself were slain, the Broker could not let that challenge go unanswered – Tetrimus himself would be forced to come.

With that in mind Liara had obtained, through back channel mercenaries and at exorbitant cost, a black nanoware conversion matrix. Loaded into a super heavy sniper round, the sludge would eat into and deactivate most conventional cyberware. Combined with two EMP bombs and their biotics, Liara and Telanya were confident they could capture Tazzik, or if that failed, kill him and draw out the Dagger.

The plan went flawlessly, until the point where they did a preliminary scan of the target. Somehow, that had alerted the Broker's forces, and the ambush erupted into a sprawling firefight. Outnumbered ten to one, they'd been forced to fall back after failing to hit Tazzik with the cybernetic kill agent.

Unwilling to let the target get away, Liara had triggered the engines on the small ship they'd purchased to eventually leave on. She'd long ago hacked the FTL systems and plotter to re-target on her command if things got out of control, and she overrode the safeties and smashed the ship into the fortified estate of Tazzik, killing him and smashing the last known Broker base on Ilium.

She tried, as she drove, not to think about the casualties. About the indentured servants, or the innocents, killed in such an act. She told herself that the Broker's actions were threatening tens of billions of lives.

Math did not make the pain or the self-recrimination go away. Logic didn't fix the fact that she felt dirty. She flinched as her vision flickered, and shook her head to clear it.

She wasn't driven to such desperate acts out of mere hate. She sincerely did not think she could keep functioning much longer. Her own mental state was deteriorating by the day, and Telanya wasn't much better. Even the powerful drugs the latter used to try to sleep had failed weeks ago to keep her own nightmares away, and now both of them were trembling from exhaustion and mental stress.

Sleep was almost impossible except in short, terror-wracked snatches. Liara had suffered hallucinations, and her emotions were a roller coaster. Trembling and uncontrolled bouts of flaring meant her biotics were also affected. Their appetites vanished, everything tasting bland and often coming back up when waves of nausea hit her. They were losing their edge, their combat ability, even their sanity.

This had to end, if only so she could die as herself and not insane.

As they entered the parking lot of the apartment complex, and transitioned into the inner hidden living area, Liara's mind picked over the bits of information she'd obtained today. She let herself sit almost bonelessly on the couch in the main room, watching dully as Telanya poured a stiff drink and downed the entire glass in a pair of gulps, grimacing afterwards.

"...How much longer before we go totally crazy, do you think, Lady Liara?"

Liara gave a hollow laugh, motioning for the bottle. Tel crossed the room to sit next to her, handing the bottle over, and Liara poured herself a glass. "I don't know that we already have not, Tel. The nightmares and … waking hallucinations are hardly hallmarks of a stable mind. I'm sure that some would say killing Tazzik with a freighter was... unacceptable."

She drank, the fiery salarian brandy Tel favored sending warmth through her body, dulling her pain if by only a bit. "We won't need to hold out much longer, though."

Telanya nodded, leaning her head back. "...It's funny. I didn't become a cop because I cared much about the law, or about protecting people. I did it because I was good at finding patterns, because I was running from an ardat-yakshi, because I wanted safety for myself." She gazed at her hand. "And now, I've become something I can't even recognize. Murder is... just a word, instead the outrage I should see it as. I have... no idea of how I can go back to what I used to be. I can't even really remember what that felt like any more."

Liara closed her eye. 'We are far from any shore we recognize now. Trying to swim back to the familiar against the tide... is beyond us now."

Telanya's bitter smile flickered. "And when it's done? I... can't live this way, Lady Liara. Every day just... hurts more. I'm not getting over it."

Liara's laugh was discordant and broken and sad. "And I'm doing any better?" She placed her real hand on the shoulder of her friend. "There are times I already feel... dead. Reliving Sara's death every night has... shattered whatever hopes I had of living past this. And it is not likely we will... succeed in actually killing the Broker."

Liara's eye narrowed. "If in death I can cripple or kill him, I will..." She paused as the comm light on the information panel on the wall lit up.

Telanya groaned and stood up, walking over and tapping the console. She stared at the message for a few seconds, then gave a weary, almost rattling exhalation of breath. "...It's for you, Lady Liara."

Liara frowned, forcing her exhausted frame to stand, and walked over to the panel. The message flashing on the screen was a real-time comms request... from her aithntar. Both relief and worry flashed through her numb mind as she stared at it a moment.

Shaking herself back to action, she tapped the message, and the haptic screen illuminated. Her father's features were much the same as always, although there was a sadness in her eyes Liara did not remember. She took in the faces of Liara and Tel and grimaced.

"You two look like boiled shit."

Liara found a faint smile, the first in weeks, cross her features. "I love you too. Aria has not contacted us in several weeks, I was beginning to worry."

Aethyta nodded. "You probably heard about the Archangel and the Butcher. Things have been ugly, but for now they're good. Aria let me go, after restoring my spine with some cybernetics that I'll have to get cut out at some point. I'm headed to check on Telanya's mother before delivering a message to the Council of Matriarchs, then I'll be on my way to you two to get you out of there."

Liara was happy her father was free of Aria's control, but frowned at the last part. "Why would you come here?"

The matriarch gave her a sad look, and her voice was filled with regret. "Because you two are killing yourselves, and you've done enough. The Broker network there is in shambles, and that fleet of asari warships in orbit is about to put the planet into a hard blockade. Once that happens getting you out of there will be almost impossible."

Telanya gave a small bow. "Lady Aethyta, I thank you for going to make sure my mother is well. I've moved what wealth I could into an account she can access, I am transmitting the numbers now. But as for... removing us from the scene, there is little point. The Broker's Link is full of the news – Tetrimus is coming to Ilium, at long last."

Liara nodded. "It is time to end this."

Aethyta shook her head. "And you think I'll let you go against that fuck alone? I still owe him for breaking my spine, gutless spike bastard." She grimaced. "The condition you two are in, you won't stand a chance."

Liara felt herself grow angry. "We've destroyed everything in our path! Had to lie, murder, kill! Blow up innocent people. Children. Elders. I can't even sleep without my nightmares ripping me open. I can't look in a mirror without hallucinations, can't eat without feeling sick to my stomach!"

She clenched her fists. "You can't save me, not from this. Tetrimus dies, and I don't care what it costs me." She gave a bitter little laugh. "I have nothing left to lose, so it can't cost me anything but my life."

Aethyta sighed. "...And that, my daughter, is exactly why you need me there." She looked up. "This has broken you. Both of you. You're not in any kind of shape to fight Tetrimus, no matter how goddamned angry you are. I don't doubt you've gotten stronger... but you've both turned into people I barely recognize. You let your need for revenge overpower everything else, and now there's nothing left in the tank but that."

Telanya's voice was tight and angry. "Perhaps that is all we have left to give."

Aethyta nodded. "Maybe so. But I'm old enough and tired enough that I don't mind dying... and if you two are determined to do this, you'll need me to keep the bastard off of you long enough to kill him. He's not going to show up alone, you know, and this is almost definitely a trap."

She paused. "Do you two even have a plan?"

Liara grimaced. "We need to beat him and rip the location of the Broker from his mind, then kill him. We... we have several possible plans, and a lot of anti-biotic gear."

Telanya spoke up. "We also know it's a trap, Lady Aethyta. Our element of surprise is that we have convinced the STG to sell us various devices that will nullify a great deal of his biotic powers. Without those he's just an old, crippled turian."

Aethyta sourly nodded. "And you two know how to do a mind rip, I suppose?"

Liara's expression faltered. "I have... studied the concepts."

The matriarch snorted. "Yeah, that's a no. Look, kiddo. You can't stop me from wanting to come protect my own daughter. I'll message you when I get to Ilium – be a few days. If you don't decide to pick me up I'm going after Tetrimus on my own and probably get killed."

Liara scowled. "That's..." She trailed off. "Why, aithntar? Why do this?"

Aethyta's voice was slow and sad. "I don't have much more reason to go on myself. When you and Sara were alive, I could tell myself I had a purpose in life. That I could see you happy and safe, watch my grandchildren grow. Die in a century or two in peace and knowing that, given all that I had fucked up, at least I'd gotten one thing right."

Her eyes met Liara's. "That's gone now. And if you're determined to do this, and I can't stop you, then at least I can be there at the end and make sure it is successful. I'm not stupid enough to try to tell you to that life past revenge is possible. I know... what you're feeling."

"But don't tell me I can't be there for my daughter at least once in my miserable fucking life."

Liara swallowed. "I understand."

Aethyta nodded. "I love you, little wing. We'll figure out how to pull this off when I get there. Not before."

Telanya gave a weary sigh. "And if our hand is forced before then?"

Aethyta shrugged. "Do your best to stay alive. Or do what you have to do. But don't rush into it when it will only end up in failure. Given all you've gone through, wouldn't you rather succeed?"

The matriarch straightened. "I've got to go. Ships getting ready to jump. I'll contact you after I'm done with the Matriarchs and I'm on my way to you." She paused. "I'm sorry things... didn't end up better. But consuming yourselves in revenge won't bring them back."

Liara gave her a faint, almost trembling smile, dredged up from somewhere. "She lives inside me, still. She doesn't want me to do this, either. But... they have to pay."

Telanya's voice was dull with pain and rage. "No matter how far into the depths we have sunk… the Broker killed hundreds of thousands just on a trap to kill us, and will kill billions if we don't change how the Council views the Reaper threat, Lady Aethyta." She gave a broken little laugh. "Garrus would certainly approve of dying for the cause when it was a... cause worth dying for."

Aethyta's face twisted in misery as she killed the connection on her end. As the small ship she was on was snatched by the mass relay, she wondered bitterly how she could have ever thought the life she led would end well, or as anything but a misery-driven bloodbath of revenge and hate.

She had to give Aria credit... her revenge for her unborn child was certain much colder and more painful than anything Aethyta could have imagined.

O-TWCD-O

The bulk of Garrus' people were still in medical, having lesser grade cyberware replaced by top of the line models. Krul's condition was stable and regeneration was going normally, and Mierin was in surgical prep for forced regeneration of her hand.

Garrus himself had a bandage over his eye, in prep for having the low-quality cybernetic eye he'd had put in on Omega replaced.

As he leaned back on the leather sectional couch in Shepard's private quarters, sipping on turian brandy, wearing fresh clothes for the first time in weeks, he wondered at the heavy black warp sword hanging on hooks near the middle of the far wall. For all he knew about Shepard, what she had become was still a mystery to him. Shepard, much like Tali and Joker, was colder than he remembered. Pressly was much the same way. There was a certain level of something he couldn't quite get his talons around – not quite despair, not quite fury.

It wasn't everyone that was affected. Meandering about the base the day before, he'd seen the famous thief Kasumi Goto interacting in a playful manner with the big black human soldier over drinks. He'd seen some of Shepard's marines that he recognized gathered around the form of Angel and Zaeed as they shared war stories, and had even listened with fascination as the giant krogan asked Miranda questions about a list of books he'd been given to read.

It was something off in just a few people, but it worried him nonetheless. He sipped again at the brandy, then looked up as Shepard came back through the door, carrying an entire bottle of scotch for herself.

"Comfy?" Her voice was very slightly amused as she set the bottle down on the table.

Garrus flicked a mandible, his voice dry. "I suppose this room will do, although we'll have to replace the bed with a turian hammock. It's not like you're going to enjoy it, after all."

She rolled her eyes and opened the scotch, pouring herself a glass. "I hate all the extra comfort... but goddamn, that mattress is just illegally comfortable. Some kind of mass effect supported air cushion thing." She sipped at the scotch and shook her head. "Not sure why a cyborg needs a comfy mattress..."

Garrus watched her closely as she sat down. There was an eerie, almost unnatural smoothness to every single motion she made. It was almost hypnotic to watch the complex interplay of muscles below the skin on her exposed arms.

He stared down into his glass of turian brandy, taking another sip. "It's really difficult to see you as a cyborg. I can only barely hear and smell it and I certainly can't fucking see it."

She laughed, a soft and ironic noise. "Behold the endless march of technology." She sipped at the drink again before picking up her pack of cigarettes and lighting one, inhaling deeply before looking up at the turian and raising both eyebrows.

"Had some time to think about what to do, Garrus?"

He nodded, setting his own drink down. "I... have. It isn't an easy answer." He saw the barest flicker of hurt in her expression and held up his hand. "Calm down. I'm with you. I just have some concerns."

He faced her squarely. "Cerberus is not the worst of those problems, honestly. Whatever they're up to, they have to know that having you on board to make Cerberus look good will only work if they actually do have somewhat clean hands. I get why you don't trust the vakars – I don't either."

He shrugged. "But my main concern is the people you're surrounding yourself with."

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Garrus sighed. "You once told me that... vengeance is satisfying. Doing things the quick way is satisfying. But eventually you lose sight of things and end up lost." He looked down at the decking. "It happened to me, on Omega. I got sloppy with a plan and ended up blowing up an entire apartment complex. Sixty-eight people died. Fourteen children."

He closed his good eye. "I researched the names, and etched them into my battle-suit. So I wouldn't... forget."

She nodded, slowly. "And..."

He opened his eye. "And you're going after the Broker, and the Collectors. The stakes are high, I get that. But..." He trailed off. "Kasumi Goto and her partner Ghost-Step ended up killing dozens of innocent people for money. They blew up a spirits-damned passenger liner to steal some kind of expensive salarian artwork. Zaeed Massani blew up a turian cruiser while he was working for the Taetrus Collective and no matter how many 'good' ops he's been on he's also had his hands in smuggling, slavery and worse. This Matriarch Trellani is a horrific terrorist responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocents."

He exhaled. "And now you tell me our next pickup is the Sisters of Vengeance? Who've blown up entire city blocks to get at targets and just crashed a fucking freighter into a planetary surface?" He shook his head. "The Shepard I remember wouldn't have tolerated these people even living."

Shepard looked at him a long moment before she gave a weary smile and drained her glass. "You're right. I wouldn't have. I'm not fool enough to think Massani's hands are clean, or that silly girl act of Goto's doesn't cover up a cold-blooded killer. I'm pretty sure Mordin Solus had to do something pretty vile before he decided he couldn't handle being in the STG, and it's quite possible even Jack did more than a few criminal acts."

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes briefly before clucking her tongue irritably. "In the end, Garrus, the bad guy isn't Cerberus. It's not the fucking Collectors. It's not the bullshit my government or anyone else's pulls. It's the Reapers. They're not going to care, when they show up, about right or wrong. They're going to wipe us the fuck out if we can't figure out to stop them - and right now we have jack all nothing to show."

She took another puff of her cigarette, grey smoke wreathing her features as she leaned forward. "But more than that, Garrus, I didn't pick out these people to work with. The Illusive Man did. The people I picked out to work with are my marines, and Pressly. Would I have chosen different people had I been given the chance to do so? Maybe."

Her voice became almost tired sounding. "But I don't look at it like that. This is most likely a suicide run, Garrus. Even if we drop the Broker, taking down the Collectors involves boarding one of their ships and heading into the Omega-4 Relay. We may not even have a way to get back, and we may have to blow up the ship or crash it into whatever we find to stop them."

She gave another weary smile. "So yeah. I'm working with people whose hands aren't clean. Neither are mine. Umlor had a lot of people living there. They were all supporting slavery. They were all benefiting from it. But not all of them were slavers. There were probably innocents. I didn't give a shit."

He swallowed as her eyes got harder and a note of pain entered her voice. "I've lost it all, Garrus. Everything I had that made me feel human is fucking gone, and I'll never get it back. I'm a goddamned zombie-robot and even if I pull this off, even if we somehow fucking win this, everything I've had faith and believed in is a sick fucking lie. I learned shit in the past week that makes me almost sorry the turians didn't wipe us out in the First Contact War."

She exhaled, and let her head droop, hair falling down around her face. "I'm not the same as I was. I don't have anything to hope for."

Garrus was silent for long seconds. When he spoke, his voice was soft and musing. "In the first days I was operating on Omega, I felt empty. Tel was gone. My family thought I was dead. You were dead. The people who saved me had no intention of going after the Broker, or even helping me do it myself."

"They were busy protecting the people of Omega from being abused. With nothing else to do and needing to justify the money and time they spent on saving me, I helped out. The very first time I did I ran into a pack of batarians. Meat-catchers, they called them. They rounded up the poor and cut them up, for the 'elite' of Omega who liked eating other sentient beings."

His voice took on a very slight tremble. "There were six of them, and they'd cornered a little turian girl and her father. The father was beaten senseless, bleeding into the alley, mandible torn off and jammed into his own eye. The girl was against the wall maybe six or seven."

Garrus lifted his head. "I barely remember what happened, except when I was done there were six dead pieces of tork-shit on the ground and a little girl staring at me. I patched up her father, and called Angel to help me get them out of there."

The turian looked at his hands. "She asked me if I was some kind of spirit, and I said no. Just another turian like her. Her father shook his head and said I wasn't like them. I wasn't weak. I hadn't surrendered to the darkness that was Omega."

Garrus looked Shepard in the eye. "I told him that all it took to push back the darkness was a single spark of light. That as long as you refused to give in, no matter how much that hurt, no matter how much it cost, that darkness couldn't win."

He exhaled shakily. "I had to be reminded of that by my own team. But you know what? Do you know who I was thinking of when I said those words? You."

Shepard's face was immobile, but he pressed on anyway. "I remember Liara saying how bad you'd had it growing up, and how horrible it must have been. I remember the shit the Council flung at you, and your own government. How no one had any spirits damned faith in you, even when you'd beaten Cerberus and Saren. And yet you never let that stop you, or even slow you down. You were that light."

He looked away from her, finishing his brandy. "And I remember your funeral. Listening to that priest. Listening to people grieve and cry because the light that was who you were flickered and died."

"I'm still a pretty bad turian, Sara. The turian part of me should be pragmatic about this whole thing. Like you said, it's a one way trip. The Collectors aren't going to care about criminal records. But just because we've lost everything does not mean we have to give up everything we are. Or were."

Shepard was silent for a long time, before taking a final pull on her cigarette and stubbing it out. "You haven't changed at all." There was a faint smile on her face, as she stood up. "Maybe you're right. But to me I see something else. Goto lost her fiance, then the woman who raised and taught her, just like I have. Zaeed is tormented by the mistakes he made with the Blue Suns and has nothing else to live for but to die in one last impossible mission, chasing death just like I used to. Trellani is crazy as all fuck, but she went through shit even worse than you and I did – they tortured her bondmate to death, and killed her entire family after making them think she was responsible for their deaths."

Shepard shook her head. "I was a murdering, drug-dealing ganger piece of shit too, before I changed myself. Maybe I'm a fool for thinking Jack can be like me, or that a part of Harper wishes he wasn't the way he was. Maybe I'm too focused on killing Tetrimus and just getting on with this mission, dying again to save people who don't even care."

She looked at him. "But if I'm not, and if I'm going on the wrong paths, you'll be there to tell me when I need to change. I don't think I can find that little spark of light you're talking about."

She walked over the bottle of scotch and poured another. "But I'll do whatever needs to be done to make sure other people get a chance to see it." She drank, wiping her mouth and smiling. "Make sense?"

Garrus shrugged. "Nothing makes much sense any more, Sheep." He turned to pour himself another drink. "Sorry if I was out of line–"

Shepard snorted. "Garrus, you're never out of line with me. I'd have died if you and Tel hadn't held that line on the Citadel." She shrugged, and sat back down. "And maybe I needed to hear that, too. I've been telling myself the Sisters of Vengeance are like me - like you, now that I know who you are."

She turned away, staring out the large armaglass window into the deep darkness of space. "But that bullshit with the freighter is a touch extreme. I said as much to Harper. I'm willing to bend to get the job done, something I was too stupid to do before."

Garrus frowned. "Too stupid?"

She gave a hollow, sad laugh. "Harper showed up at my wedding. Secretly. Told me and Liara that he wanted to work with us, that people were plotting to kill us. He stopped that assassination but said they'd get me sooner or later, and President Windsor too."

She drank. "If-" She broke off in a near sob, "If I had listened to TIM then, swallowed my self-righteous bullshit pride and hatred and actually bothered to listen, would this have happened?" Her voice trembled. "Would Liara be dead? Tel? Would Tali be messed up?"

Garrus shook his head. "Angel once told me that 'what if' are the deadliest and stupidest words in any language. And I happen to agree. Beating yourself up over things in the past won't make the future any brighter or better." He sighed. "And everything is in shades of gray. I don't know what to do with those."

Shepard smiled faintly. "Yes you do. Pick the brightest shade and do your best to make it brighter. Solus told me that."

Garrus drank again. "Yeah, well, he's also crazy. But point taken." He flicked a mandible. They drank in silence, lost in their own thoughts, until Garrus' breathing slowed and he slumped down further on the leather sectional.

Shepard shook her head and easily picked up the bigger turian, laying him out on her own bed. She stepped out of her quarters and tapped her omni-tool. "Doctor Sedanya, Garrus is passed out drunk in my quarters. Should I bring him to medical or is he stable enough to sleep it off?"

Sedanya gave a sigh. "Given his nutritional condition and the amount of damage he took, I would feel more comfortable if he was in medical but he should be fine." She paused. "We'll prep him for his surgery in the morning, make sure he gets up by 0800."

Shepard nodded. "Not like I'm going to get any sleep tonight anyway. I'll have him there on time."

Sedanya's voice took on an impish note. "And should any of his team come looking for him, shall I tell them you are sleeping together?"

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Don't, Kelly might get jealous."