Chapter Thirty-eight
Where do Marshmallows come from?

London, Earth

"Fucking sanctimonious asshole."

Lucy looked up from her work to find Susannah watching the wallscreen whilst lifting weights. On screen, a Westerlund reporter was dutifully covering Fleet Admiral Kessler's latest rousing speech to the masses. She hadn't been listening as she tried to concentrate on her new material she'd been sent from Alliance HQ. Kessler's speech was probably something they'd already heard a hundred times before. The same 'humanity standing together' bullshit. That the Alliance was working for the benefit of humanity during reconstruction. As far as Lucy was concerned, no amount of speeches could disguise the fact that they were all living under a military dictatorship. A tolerably benevolent one, but a dictatorship nevertheless. Anderson's persecution had brought that into stark reality. It made her head hurt and she turned her attention back to her material.

A small sigh escaped Lucy's lips. She missed her old position as a lowly intelligence officer. Hell, a part of her even missed the brief time she'd spent in the infantry. Everything had changed in the wake of the war. At the point at which she had helped Shepard to fire the Crucible, she'd forfeited all rights to a normal career. As soon as she had recovered from her injuries, someone at the top had decided to second her to the Alliance's ever-expanding PR Division. That's how it had remained ever since – an endless succession of speeches, appearances and, more often than not, boredom.

"Why do I even bother watching this shit?" Susannah muttered, drawing Lucy's attention again.

With her attention directed towards her wife, a small frown marred Lucy's brow. "Suze, those weights look too heavy. The doc told you to go easy."

That comment earned her a predictable scowl. Susannah continued working out and Lucy let the matter go. Since helping Anderson disappear, Susannah had been even more short-tempered and frustrated than usual. They'd heard nothing from Anderson or Mack. Ordinary life had returned. For Lucy this was like a comfortable blanket. Her job was boring, but it allowed her to travel and meet people. As well as giving them both a certain status. Susannah on the other hand hated suburban existence. It had been apparent for months, but Lucy couldn't see a solution. She watched the scarred skin stretch taut over Susannah's muscles and couldn't contain a slight swell of despair. Short of being able to get her wife reinstated to active duty, there was nothing Lucy could do. She turned her attention back to her material and continued reading. She'd been stuck on the same sentence for the past five minutes.

"There's something off about these briefing notes."

Lucy voiced her thoughts aloud for her own benefit, but she also hoped to catch Susannah's attention. A few moments later she heard the sound of success as the weights hit the floor. Susannah crossed the floor to stand at her side, arm resting lightly across Lucy's shoulders.

"Ick! You're all sweaty, baby."

Lucy glanced up and Susannah stole a quick kiss. "What's up, Lieutenant Park?"

"I know they've had a few personnel changes at HQ, but this is slightly unnerving. Why the hell are they trying to dredge up Turian atrocities committed during the First Contact War? It's not my area of expertise, but I wasn't aware that there were any atrocities during that War. Just a bunch of misunderstandings. And what's worse, this is approved for dissemination to school kids."

"Why don't you ask your buddy Kessler? He served during that War."

Lucy sighed in exasperation. "I've only met him a handful of times. He's always been nothing but courteous to me."

"Luce, he's a cunt. You've got this horrible affliction where you try to see the best in everyone. Everyone knows that Anderson was discharged on his orders."

"Even Anderson had no proof of that," Lucy said diplomatically.

"Not to mention Hackett's death!"

"Suze, you're not jumping on that scaremongering bandwagon. Admiral Hackett had a heart attack. Anyway, we were talking about my notes." Lucy scanned further down the material. "I can't talk to school children about asari reproduction!"

"Why the hell would you need to?" Susannah read over Lucy's shoulder. She uttered a sarcastic laugh. "Asari reproduction as a form of assimilation? C'mon, just because their kids will always be asari we're supposed to think they have the potential to take over the Galaxy? Hmmm, they say it like it's a bad thing." Susannah chuckled to herself, obviously at the thought of living in a Galaxy almost entirely populated by asari. "Luce, you can't seriously be thinking of standing in front of anyone and spouting this bullshit? How stupid do they think people are?"

"There are some impressionable people out there. I don't want to get above myself, but if I said it, there's a danger that some people might believe it."

"My wife the war hero. Don't say it then!" Susannah picked up the datapad and turned it off. "Stick to the old stuff. It was a little heavy on Shepard, but at least it was all true. Unlike that dribble."

"I'll speak to my superiors about it," Lucy announced resolutely.

Susannah kissed her on the top on her head. "Do you want me to come with you? I've seen you try to speak to your superiors before…and you're not exactly-"

"Don't you dare continue that sentence! Unless you want to find yourself sleeping on the couch indefinitely," Lucy replied hotly. With the datapad lying forgotten on the table, she rose to her feet. Despite her earlier threat, she wrapped both her arms around her wife's neck. "I can speak up for myself when I need to. Besides, it's probably just some jumped up little Terra Firma wannabe in the ranks."

"Hmm, listen to you go, Lieutenant. I'll look forward to hearing all about it. In the meantime, how about you and I try a little reproduction of our own?"

"That has got to be one of the worst lines you've ever used to try and get me into bed," Lucy pointed out with a grin. "You're just lucky I'm really easy."


Omega, Sahrabarik

"Have you seen the footage from Nos Astra, Liara?"

Liara clearly heard Hannah Shepard's question, but she didn't answer immediately. Instead she feigned working, her fingers typing nonsensical commands into a powered down HI for the sake of keeping busy.

Of course she'd seen it. The footage was burned into her retinas. When she closed her eyes, it was all she could see. The burning buildings and body bags. Flashing security lights. It was violence on a scale not seen since the war.

Liara's response to the footage wasn't sorrow or grief, but rather the cold detachment that resulted from a plan well executed. The only emotion she felt was a vague sense of relief.

When Liara finally looked up, Hannah was staring at her expectantly. "I have. Our deception was thorough, but I had reservations that the Alliance would fall for it so completely. Clearly I underestimated their desperation."

Hannah frowned visibly. "The collateral damage was significant. The Alliance may not care that their handiwork took out dozens of innocent civilians, but we should. I thought there were measures in place to mitigate casualties?"

"The measures were adequate." Liara was unmoved by the distress in Hannah's voice. "The building itself was largely unoccupied. Unfortunately the Alliance chose to carry out the attack during early evening. The casualties were mostly pedestrians."

"Deliberately no doubt. It has caused panic on a wide scale, especially with no suspects and no apparent motive." Hannah paused momentarily, bit her lip in a habit reminiscent of her daughter. "Does Evie know?"

Although it was expected, the question was like a slap in the face. Liara swallowed. Her throat was bone dry. "Yes."

"I take it the news didn't go down well?"

"I would prefer not to discuss the matter," Liara replied. It was impossible to keep a trace of frostiness from inhabiting her voice. She hadn't expected to feel so vehemently about discussing relationship issues with her mother-in-law. It was made worse by the fact that her bondmate so closely resembled her mother. Whenever she looked at Hannah, she felt as though she was looking at an older version of Evan. "I am sorry, Hannah. It is not anything personal. I am….unaccustomed to talking about such things with anyone other than Evan."

Hannah inclined her head, a warm smile on her face. "There's no apology necessary, Liara. I understand completely. If you don't have anything else for me, I'll sign off."

"There is one thing that has crossed my mind," Liara admitted. "In light of recent events, I need to start exploring an exit strategy from Omega."

"You don't trust T'Loak not to sell you out to the Alliance?"

Liara shook her head. "No, I trust Aria implicitly in that respect. What I do not trust is Omega's isolation. Cerberus was able to take the station with relative ease. While Aria has invested a great deal in improving the station's defences, I doubt it would withstand a concentrated attack by the Alliance. If it came to that, I would prefer to be on Thessia."

"You'd take Evie to Thessia?" Hannah failed to hide her obvious surprise. "Your home?"

Home? Liara had not thought of Thessia as home for some time. Now home was simply wherever Shepard was.

"It would not be a simple matter. Neither of us are in favour with Tevos, and following my mother's downfall, the T'Soni name does not carry the weight amongst Armali's Matriarch's that it once did. However the family still has significant resources, and my estate survived the war largely intact," Liara explained. It felt strange to talk of something that she had pushed to the back of her mind for so long. "I have recently appointed an old friend in charge of my affairs there. Some considerable work still needs to be done, but Evan and I will be comfortable."

Liara didn't know how to feel about returning to Thessia. The time she had spent there in the past three decades amounted to weeks at the most. Returning to the T'Soni estate would force her to confront emotions she had left buried far beneath the surface. First and foremost being the maelstrom of fear, anger and anguish associated with Benezia. Even almost four years later, Liara had still not laid that particular demon to rest. She feared that she never would.

"Are you alright, Liara?" Hannah asked suddenly. "You seem…troubled."

"I am fine," Liara was quick to reply.

"Liara," Hannah said in her best motherly voice. "I've come to know you well enough over the past months to learn a little about you, and I know when something is troubling you…or at least a certain individual is troubling you. She's my daughter, if anyone is qualified to offer advice on the subject, it's me."

Liara knew that she was far removed from Shepard family history, but she had difficulty trying to find some trace of the monster her bondmate described when talking about her mother. She liked Hannah Shepard...immensely.

"Evan was always convinced you did not know her," Liara admitted quietly. "I am beginning to believe that is not true…nor was it ever true."

Hannah sighed. "Sometimes we have to become different people for those we love…often to the point where they can no longer understand us."

Liara was about to say something in return when she heard deliberate footsteps along the corridor. A few moments later, Shepard's head peered around the door. Liara managed a smile, which was not returned.

"I was just finishing up with your mother," Liara supplied, nodding to the viewscreen.

"Hey, Mum," Shepard said as she walked forward to make herself visible.

The word had been slipping out easier of late as Shepard gradually welcomed Hannah back into her life. Usually Liara would have been pleased to see such progress. However, in that moment, the room suddenly felt much smaller with her bondmate in it.

"I'm going to need to steal her away from you," the younger Shepard continued.

"Sure thing, Evie. Bondmate trumps work."

"It's Liara we're talking about," Shepard said with a pointed glance in Liara's direction. "That's not usually the case."

"Hannah, can you and Mack analyse the rest of the data from Nos Astra?" Liara ignored her bondmate's comment. "I will…be in touch."

"Of course, Liara. My love to you both. Shepard out."

With the buffer of Hannah Shepard gone, Liara pretended to be occupied for a further minute. She already dreaded the impending conversation. Shepard's presence was difficult to ignore. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it lingered. Liara decided that she would wait for Shepard to speak on her own terms. However, less than a minute later, the silence grew unbearable. Liara whirled on her heels to find Shepard leaning against the server with her arms folded across her chest. Her own frustration fled, leaving only a faint nausea.

"Please, can we not do this?" Liara asked.

"I'm not angry at you, Li," Shepard replied softly. "I was…but no matter how angry I am, it doesn't stick, regardless of what you've done. Can you just tell me why Ilium was chosen?"

"I was unable to extract anything of great use from the Alliance spies we intercepted several weeks ago…save that they had been led to believe that you were probably on Ilium."

"Shit. I'd almost forgotten. What the hell happened to those spies?"

Liara was silent for a few moments. She drew in a breath. "They were taken care of."

It was only in hindsight that she realised how clinical her voice must sound to her bondmate. The anguished expression on Shepard's face almost broke her.

"Li…did you? No." Shepard shook her head. "Don't answer that. This isn't how I wanted anything to play out. Dozens being murdered in my place? People being manipulated. Killed on a whim?"

Liara was firm in her resolve. She squared her shoulders defiantly. "Despite all you have been through, you are heartbreakingly naïve, Evan. This is how things get done! It is how you will survive. And I will always take care of such matters…so you do not have to."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"I do not care," Liara replied bluntly.

They reached a standoff. Liara could tell Shepard was struggling to keep her temper in check. She was terrified of what that anger might mean for their relationship, but she knew that, even if she had the opportunity, she would not do a single thing differently. After losing Shepard twice, she was literally prepared to do anything to ensure her safety.

Shepard stared. Liara forced herself to meet it without wavering. It was only at that point that she noticed something else burning in Shepard's eyes alongside the anger. Something fierce. It wasn't until Shepard surged forward that Liara realised it was love. Seconds later she was enveloped in a fierce embrace, which she returned with equal ferocity. Liara buried her face in Shepard's neck, her nose brushing the salty residue of a workout.

"I love you, Li," Shepard whispered. "It kills me to think of you making those sort of decisions on my behalf. From now on, we make them together. Anything, it doesn't matter. If it involves a life, then it's not inconsequential. I don't want you to carry that sort of weight alone."

Liara kissed the salty skin beneath her lips. "When you spoke to Ashley the other day, you were serious?"

"At the time I was making up whatever bullshit came into my head," Shepard replied wryly. "Now, I realise I meant every word. I love the solitude we've shared over the past months. I love keeping house with you. Not so much the boredom part, definitely having sex at random times of the day." Liara murmured appreciatively in response as Shepard continued, "But I'll never be content in my life, not as long as I know that things aren't right. We didn't murder those people on Ilium, but you can be damn sure I'll make whoever did do it pay."

They kissed, a mutual affirmation of everything they had said. Tender, yet possessive. When Liara drew back and stared deep into her love's gaze, she was struck by a sudden thought that made her entire body tremble.

Is it wrong for two individuals to wield so much power? The Shepard and the Shadow Broker. Between them, they had the power to shape the Galaxy. Then Shepard's mouth curled into a slight grin and the moment was lost. They were just lovers again.

"What are you thinking about, Liara T'Soni?"

"I love you too, Evan," Liara kissed the tip of Shepard's nose emphatically. "But when have you ever kept house?"


Even after weeks on Omega, Sam still couldn't get used to the place. On the surface it was brutish, ugly, and hostile – especially the inhabitants. Everything seemed to be built for function over aesthetics. That wasn't even getting started on the foul smell that permeated the air. For all that, Omega held surprises – both in terms of sights and its denizens. Sam was currently observing two of its finest. The view above the docks was still as breath-taking as the first time she had seen it. The colours, the precipitous drop, and the delicate dance of ships below.

And then there was Myke. The asari was in her favourite spot, sitting precariously near the edge. True to form she was eating, shovelling an unidentified substance into her mouth from a large box. As Sam approached, she realised that an unconscious smile had spread across her face. As she had realised from their very first meeting, Myke was altogether fascinating. Sam had never met someone with such a laidback attitude to life. However it was confusing as it was refreshing. Myke was almost impossible to read when it mattered most. Although the young asari was open and friendly, she simply didn't flirt. Or she just doesn't find you attractive, Sam pointed out to herself.

After staring for far too long, Sam finally jolted to her senses and made herself known.

"Hey you."

Myke jumped slightly. When she turned around there was a guilty expression fixed on her face. "Sam…hey!" She then glanced apologetically at her food. "I was trying to wait…but the smell kind of got to me. Sorry. I hope yours isn't cold."

"I'm sure it's fine." Sam accepted the container from Myke and took a seat of her own. She suppressed a slight rush of vertigo and concentrated on Myke instead of the drop. "I've developed a newfound appreciation for food since meeting you."

Myke paused eating. She looked slightly dubious. "Is that a good thing?"

Sam laughed. "It is a good thing." A mouth-watering smell greeted her when she opened the box. "This looks great."

"Tastes pretty good too," Myke replied. She stared thoughtfully at her food for a moment. "Not sure what it is though."

Despite Myke's last comment, Sam tucked into the contents of the box with apparent relish. It did in fact taste heavenly, and was far better than standard rations aboard the Normandy. Not that she was overly hungry. Eating was something to do, a means of keeping herself busy as opposed to staring blatantly at her companion. It was difficult when Myke was only a few feet away. Sam noticed that the young asari had finished her food and was staring out at the docks with a pensive expression on her face. Eventually, Sam forgot about eating altogether. The food was nice…but it wasn't that nice.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked, hoping it wasn't too forward of her to ask.

Myke grinned awkwardly and shook her head. "Nothing really, just…stuff. Stupid questions mostly."

"Stuff you want to ask me?" Sam turned on her seat, facing Myke.

She hoped that Myke would follow suit, but instead the asari remained staring straight ahead.

"Maybe," Myke offered cryptically.

"You know you can ask me anything. I guarantee I won't find it stupid. My Dad always said that there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers." Sam laughed to herself to hide her nerves. "It kinda backfired on him though, I was that annoying kid who asked questions nonstop. Where do marshmallows come from? What is infinity? How can Schrödinger's cat be alive and dead?"

"What's a cat?"

"Small, furry animal. Some humans keep them as pets. I guess if they were on Omega they would be considered a food group by certain sections of society." Sam realised she was talking too much. "It's not important. I was just illustrating that I was a precocious little shit when I was younger."

"Do I…do I seem young to you, Sam?" Myke asked suddenly.

Sam tried to keep a small frown from appearing on her face. "Um, I really don't know. I guess this is when you tell me you're twice my age."

"I'm ninety-six," Myke replied hesitantly.

Sam fought the urge to let out a low whistle. While she knew that the years weighed differently for asari, she could only comprehend it from the point of view of her own culture. In human terms, Myke was almost four times her age. Yet it never felt like that. Spending time with the asari, being around her, Sam felt as though she could relax and simply be herself. Not Sam Traynor the badass marine, or the bright Operations Chief, just Sam the girl. As she was thinking, Myke stood and began pacing with some urgency.

"I know what you're going to say, I'm just a kid-"

"Um, that's not-"

"-but hear me out, please?"

"-what I was going to say, but…yeah. Of course."

Myke squared her shoulders and finally met Sam's gaze directly. Her dark eyes were shining with determination. "I'll admit I am young…and there's a whole galaxy of stuff that I don't know the first thing about. I don't know what a cat is…or a mass…mellow, and I don't know a Goddess-damned thing about relationships, but Shepard told me the story of how she fell in love with Liara. She didn't 'fall in love' at all. She said it was like being hit over the head with a baseball bat – I dunno what that is either, but it sounds serious…and painful. A lot like what happened to me when you walked out of the Normandy's medbay."

"Seeing me was…painful?" Sam was reeling.

"Honestly? Yes. Because you were there, perfect, and probably not even going to give me the time of day. Then you were polite…and kind…and it was painful because I knew you'd never feel the same way about me."

Sam swallowed. Her throat was dry. "You never asked."

"I couldn't. I was scared…of it hurting even more. But I realised that it hurt more not to ask." Myke shook her head. "Shit, in my head I imagined sounding better…more confident, but I guess I'm always going to be a failure," Myke said with her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Sam. Just forget this stupid conversation happened."

As Myke turned away, Sam was finally jolted into action. She stood and reached out to grab Myke gently by the wrist. The asari stopped, and turned to look at Sam with a wretched expression on her face. Sam's lips kept wanting to curl upwards. "Myke…you never asked."

"What?" Myke whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

"You never asked whether I feel the same way about you," Sam pointed out. The stupid smile refused to go away.

"Um, no…I guess I thought it was pointless." Myke swallowed visibly. Hope started to take hold in her eyes. "Do you? Feel the same way about me?"

"Yes, you ninny," Sam said breathlessly. She remembered that she was holding Myke's wrist and shifted her grip so that their fingers were entwined instead. "Why else would I have eaten my own body weight in noodles?"

Myke was clearly torn between grinning and frowning. "You don't like noodles?"

"Not as much as I like you," Sam admitted with a laugh.

Sam then used her grip on Myke's hand to draw the asari closer. If she had occasionally fantasised about being with an asari after watching one too many vids, she discovered that the reality was something else altogether. She stared at their hands, marvelling at Myke's skin tone alongside her own. Shyly, she stared at Myke's face, tracing with her eyes every curve of the vivid pink markings. Sam took a hesitant step forward, seeking the contact that she craved. With achingly slow, considered movements, their bodies eventually slotted together perfectly. Her heartbeat quickened when she felt the rapid rise and fall of Myke's chest against her own.

"You're trembling," Myke whispered.

"Am I?" Sam asked.

With it pointed out, she was now aware of the fact that she was shaking like a leaf. She hovered on the verge of pulling away in embarrassment when Myke settled one hand lightly against the small of her back. The other hand rested in a gentle touch on Sam's hip.

"I haven't kissed anyone in a very long time," Sam eventually admitted in a weak voice.

"If it makes you feel better I've never kissed anyone. So if you're crap, I won't know," Myke replied with a nervous laugh.

Sam responded with a laugh of her own, but the quip did not assuage her fears. If anything, she felt worse. Her stomach churned as though threatening to expunge its contents all over her potential lover. Her entire body thrummed with a vexing combination of desire and anxiety.

Finally there was nothing left to do except commit everything she had to the kiss. Sam panicked. Holy crap, she thought. I've forgotten how to kiss. All rationale knowledge fled from her addled brain. Anything remotely resembling a clue, was gone. Breathe, Sam. You've got this. Don't think…just do.

With the gentlest of touches, Sam cupped Myke's cheek. The asari's skin was cool to the touch. Myke was grinning like an idiot. Sam swiped her thumb gently over the lips she was about to claim. They were soft, parting eagerly beneath her touch.

Sam closed her eyes and leaned in. A myriad of sensations overwhelmed her in that moment. She inhaled. Myke smelled of noodles and jasmine. Their lips came together. A jolt cascaded throughout Sam's body, sending tingles across her lips and deep in the pit of her stomach. With each successive caress, her panic eroded. Eventually it disappeared completely, replaced by a confidence born of desire and need. Myke's lips moved beneath her own, responding to each subtle movement. Not usually one for taking control, Sam felt a delicious thrill as she guided the asari in her arms with subtle touches and changes in tempo. For a brief moment, her tongue darted between Myke's lips. Myke's mouth was warm, inviting. Sam sought out Myke's tongue and teased it with the length of her own. Myke shivered in response, her hands clutching desperately at the back of Sam's shirt.

The touch reminded Sam that she was moving too fast. She felt her arousal and the need to sate it, but it was too soon. Tenderly, she extricated herself from the kiss. Several gentle pecks promised more to come, but for now she needed to give them both time to process. And, despite the need, sex on a dirty ledge high above Omega's docks wasn't what Sam wanted. For herself or for her girlfriend. She drew back, only just realising that Myke was fractionally taller and there were flecks of violet in her dark eyes. And Sam thought she was gorgeous. Girlfriend? Too soon?

Myke's poise had disappeared altogether. The smile on her face was tremulous and giddy. "Kissing…is even better than being shot."

Sam laughed. "I should bloody well hope so."

"I think we should probably kiss again," Myke said with a mischievous grin on her face. "You need some practice, you really are a bit crap."

Sam raised her eyebrows playfully. "Oh, I'm crap am I?"

"Utterly crap," Myke confirmed. "Now shut up and kiss me again."


Vancouver, Earth

If there was one thing Kessler loathed more than any other, it was a flock of mindless sheep. He sat, drummed his fingers on the edge of the table, and fixed a bored expression on his face as he scanned the circular table in one long stare. He was supposed to be amongst colleagues, but not one of the other Heads of Staff, nor their underlings, inspired an iota of confidence. These were the men and women who held the future of humanity in the palms of their hands, and they were wasting their time in a pointless scapegoating exercise.

"Are you admitting that you do not know the current whereabouts of Captain Williams and the Normandy?" Admiral Carol Vogel asked with derision clearly evident in her voice.

"No," Kessler replied through gritted teeth. "What I am saying is that I do not have to disclose to this Committee the whereabouts of those Fleet captains who are currently engaged in covert operations."

"So you are refusing to tell us?" Vogel pressed.

Yes, you pencil-pushing bitch, Kessler thought irritably. "My hands are tied by regulation, not out of any desire to mislead the Committee. I assure you that Captain Williams is engaged in operations that are essential to our reconstruction efforts."

"And yet you cannot disclose details of a single mission?" General Jason Durrant went as far as to thump his considerable fist on the table.

Stupid fat fuck, Kessler didn't offer the man the courtesy of a reply.

"Admiral," Vogel leaned forward in her chair and clasped her hands as though delivering an edict. "It is the decision of this Committee that the Normandy, with Captain Williams at the helm, return to the Sol System and reengage with their primary mission. We have any number of captains and starships who can fulfil your so-called covert operations, there is only one Normandy. The Alliance needs its flagship back. You have one week, then the Normandy is being recalled."

"Fine," Kessler said grudgingly. He needed to leave the room. The scrutiny was stifling. "Was that the last matter for discussion?"

Vogel nodded and he stood to leave, beckoning for Weston to follow him. The pair exited the meeting chamber, in silence at first, at least until they had put an acceptable distance between themselves and anyone else in earshot.

"You don't have a clue where Williams is," Weston stated bluntly.

"It is hardly necessary for you to remind me," Kessler growled. He paused by a window. Rain was hammering against the glass. His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "Vogel and Durrant are imbeciles, but they will not be placated by anything short of parading Williams in front of them." He slapped the palm of his hand against the glass. "Damn that arrogant bitch! She was supposed to be the quintessential marine, instead she's still trying to pretend she's a fucking SpecTRe."

"Sir, I'm confident that our sanitisation of the Horizon incident will stand up to public scrutiny. Williams has effectively lost her leverage," Weston offered in a calm voice.

"That may be the case, but locating Williams remains the issue. At the last sighting, the Normandy left Chasca as planned, then disappeared."

"It's hardly a problem," Weston announced confidently. "You simply need to move your plans forward by a few months. As soon as we set things in motion, Williams and the Normandy will be forced back into the fold."

Kessler set his lips into a grim, determined line. "You're quite correct, Weston. I'll make contact this afternoon. I can't say that our friend will complain about the change in plan."

Weston stood at his shoulder. "Everything's going to change, sir."

"For the better, Weston. There's just going to be a little collateral damage along the way."