The last few hours had been so nice. Not many others had felt like shooting today, and Mojo had been delighted to hav the shooting range to himself most of the time. Noveria had punched a dent into his confidence. On Omega he had made a name of himself as an expert sniper. That reputation - and quick thinking when it counted - had paved the way that led him to the Armiger Legion, and from there… to the Alliance and finally to that forsaken ice planet that almost killed him, and, worse, let him look useless at what he had always considered to be his best skill.

Today, he needed a reminder of what he was good at. He hadn't wasted his time with practice rounds on static targets, but selected a harder difficulty, and quickly went to the hardest difficulty - moving targets, fully points awarded only when the tiny bull's eye was hit within a short time frame. It had felt good to fire his weapon, even when it wasn't in a fight. The sound of the rifle firing, the recoil, the dull thump when the practice ammunition hit the artificial creatures - yes, he had needed that. Now he was looking forward to another mission where he could prove his skill during combat, well, as long as there wasn't another snow storm.

He sighed. He had hardly locked the Viper away when a call reached him. Amalthea, who asked to meet her and the others, to talk about something concerning the last mission. That was all, or all she had dared to say, he assumed, in case somebody listened. Yet, if she feared somebody would overhear their conversation, then he could only wonder about her decision to meet in the lounge. Or, maybe, he was mistaken, and her call had another reason. The mystery could have been solved more than 20 minutes ago, if she opened her mouth and started talking already. He prayed to the Spirits that this hadn't been a trick to lure him to some kind of squad party.

"So, what was it again why we're here?" He shifted on his seat. Amalthea had already been waiting when he arrived, sitting on one of the sofas with a wide, satisfied smile. He had no idea how she had managed to keep both sofas free, but he could imagine a scenario or two, and both involved more of her krogan than of her asari blood. Too bad, he would have liked to watch her biting away the poor fools who tried to cross her. Maybe she could give him some pointers how to scare humans away, especially pesky redheads who wouldn't stop acting like it was their fate to be friends.

"We'll talk once Arek as here, as I've told you the last three times you asked."

"Five times," Meyrani corrected. She was sitting on the opposite sofa, a laptop resting on her crossed legs. She had been smirking at the screen since she had opened the computer; as much as Mojo hated to admit it, he was curious about what amused her so much, and if it had anything to do with the reason why they were here. Well, he could have asked her, but he didn't saw the point. If it was relevant, he'd hear it soon enough, if not, he wouldn't receive an answer. He looked around, past the few faces that walked through the room, that stopped to exchange a greeting, continue their round or joined a group of other faces. It wasn't as crowded here as the mess had been earlier today, it should be easy to spot a pale redhead with a too wide grin. The irony that he was hoping for the one person to show up that he wanted to avoid deserved another drink. He raised, headed for the bar and asked the barkeeper for another glass of turian ale, the better stuff from Palaven. The barkeeper nodded, and refilled his glass without a word. A pleasant guy, never forced a conversation on him, or bothered him with inappropriate curiosity. Mojo took his drink and returned to his two squad mates. His ribs ached when he let himself fall back onto his spot on the sofa, but he shut the pain up with a long draft from his ale. There were many things he had to say about Palaven, especially turians from Palaven. Even more precise - a lot of bad things. Arrogant, snobbish bastards, who considered themselves to be some kind of queen race, far above other species and turians from the colonies. But they had some fine breweries, he had to give them that.

"Finally," he muttered into his drink. Arek stepped through the door, a smile on his face and still limping, but not as badly as before as Mojo noticed. He suspected that it would take Arek's legs to fall off before he wouldn't smile or grin.

"Sorry, I was at the med bay when your call came, and the doc wouldn't let me go sooner." Arek sat down by Meyrani's side.

"They kept you for hours? Because of a few cuts?"

"Nah. I, well… I went there just a bit ago, after hanging out with Kalron." Arek tilted his head, giving Mojo a mischievous grin.

"You're an idiot."

"Keep the smooth talking for later, boys. Arek, is everything okay? Anything that Mojo knows and that I should know?" With a stern look, Amalthea put her wine glass on the table between them. Arek shook his head.

"Just a flesh wound I got when Cerberus tried to mess with me. I'll be as good as new in a day or two. Gimme another moment, I'll get myself a drink." He was about to stand up when Mojo gestured him to stay where he was.

"You can drink later. The sooner our Miss Leader spits out why we're here, the sooner we can be done with it."

Arek hesitated, looking at Amalthea, who shrugged. Shrugging as well he sat down again, very much to Mojo's satisfaction. The end of the recent shift was coming closer, and he wanted to be out of here before the next wave of crew members streamed into the lounge.

"It's about Cerberus, as you all probably have guessed already," Amalthea began. "And don't worry, Mojo, this won't fill the evening, but I didn't want to send a traceable message." Mojo nodded. Yes, that made sense. There was a good chance that Crusher had given order to keep a closer eye on their omni-tools, and on the messages they exchanged. He doubted that they'd spy on every thing they did, humans were too crazy about respecting privacy, even when it was related to work. But short messages, shared between the four of them, containing certain keywords should be enough to raise some suspicions. It was just like her, doing everything to avoid clashing with her superiors. However, Mojo was relieved that they weren't done with Cerberus' involvement in the incident on Omega yet.

"You think it's wise to talk about that here? People here smell gossip quicker than a varran sniffs blood." He glanced at two female humans who strolled past their small group, chatting, and sending a wink and a smile at Arek, who waved back at them. Mojo rolled his eyes; was there anyone except him left on the ship who wasn't best friends with this guy? Barat came to his mind, but the drell didn't count, as it was Arek's choice to avoid him. A good choice, Mojo acknowledged. A picture flashed up in his mind, of Barat, trying again to get closer to an Arek who wasn't so unwilling - Mojo poured the rest of his drink into his mouth. The glee he felt was ridiculous, the thought that Arek would rather… that Arek rather approached him than Barat, who so obviously hit on him, amused him far too much.

"And that's why," Amalthea finished.

"What?" Damn, his mind had been wandering, and he hadn't heard one word of Amalthea's reply. The asari groaned, and fell back into the cushions.

"I said, if we met somewhere alone, with no one around, it would raise suspicion, but nobody would suspect us to talk about something we shouldn't in a setting like this. Got it now? Meyrani, fill them in, I'll get another drink." She stood up and left the three alone. Meyrani lifted her head for the first time since she had arrived, still that smirk on her face.

"It's really not much, and won't solve the big mystery." She typed on her computer. Arek stretched his neck, trying to peek on the screen, but she closed the laptop, and shot a glare at him that Arek understood without trouble - he muttered an apology, and moved a few inches away from her.

"I don't have any of the data you guys retrieved. Yet. But I got a bit of information about Price's involvement with Dinra and Omega. Do you remember?"

"Dinra, asari, involved with the Eclipse on Omega," Arek recited, his head tilted back, his eyes towards the ceiling as he searched his memory. "And Boris Price, human, involvement with Cerberus, and Dinra, right?" He beamed all over his face when Meyrani nodded. Amalthea returned, with a glass of wine and a bottle of beer that she offered Arek, who gladly excepted.

"Did you get to it already?" she asked while returning to her place.

"No, only rehearsing so far. Anyway, we were onto something. We do know that Dinra once had ties with the Eclipse on Omega, and so did Murakos. So far that wasn't proof for anything. Here's what's new." She put her laptop on the table, moving closer to the edge of her seat. Her hand stroke over the black case of the computer while she spoke with a lowered voice. The others moved closer to her. Mojo looked around. When he was sure that nobody was close enough to listen he leaned in as well.

"The Eclipse cut ties with Dinra three years ago, a few month after Murakos had left the Eclipse. Around that time, a contact of Price was busy on Omega. He changed his names a few times, even while he was there, the last he used was Hermes."

"A human?" Arek put down his beer. "Hermes is a figure in Greek mythology, from Earth. He was the messenger of the Gods," he explained, but Meyrani shook her head.

"Turian."

"Why would a turian use a name from Greek mythology, and why would he work with Cerberus?"

"We don't know yet, Arek, but there's more. About two years ago, Hermes and Dinra disappeared from Omega. In the year before, not only Murakos left the Eclipse. Within four months, before they left, seven more Eclipse members disappeared overnight. And five more closely associated with the Blue Suns, and more than a dozen from the Blood Pack."

"Sounds like a lot," Mojo interrupted, "But gang members come and go. Some quit, some are liquidated, some shoot each other over nothing, or just run away, back home."

"You're right of course, but this is different. They disappeared without any traces, no hints, no bodies, nothing. And I'm not finished." She put her computer back on her lap, holding onto it when she leaned back. "Those numbers I mentioned have something in common, with around 120 more citizens who left Omega around that time. Civilians, security…"

"Get to the point, kid."

"Turians. They're all turians." Meyrani and Amalthea watched the faces of the two men while the news were sinking in. Amalthea was nipping on her drink, while Meyrani's fingers glided along the frame of her laptop, as though she had to withstand the urge to open it again. Arek and Mojo exchanged a look.

"Don't look at me, I'm not one of them. Just because I-"

"Geez, Mojo, stop it already." Arek glared at him, his cheeks crimson, but with genuine anger, not guilt, if Mojo wasn't mistaken. "I know you left Omega to join that turian special army unit, and that you were promoted from there to join us because you pissed off too many guys around you. That's not what I'd call 'disappearing without a trace'."

"Sorry. What are you staring at me?" He growled at the two women who looked at him in surprised amusement. "What's the rest of the story?"

Amalthea hid her smile behind her glass, while Meyrani smirked openly at him when she continued, "There's not much more yet. To sum it up, we suspected that Murakos might have been involved with Dinra and/or Boris Price, who are involved with gang affairs and Cerberus. New is, that a turian who called himself Hermes is or was involved with Price, and that, when his stay on Omega came to an end, at least 125 turians disappeared.

"Do you think they were killed?" Arek asked. The color was gone from his face, the frown was still there.

"That's possibility, but unlikely if we count Murakos as one of them, and he was quite alive a few days ago." Meyrani shook her head, and raised her chin.

"I think they joined something, or someone."

"It sounds strange, turians joining Cerberus." Amalthea had crossed her arms in front of her chest, the fingers of her right hand tapping on her left upper arm. "Or any organization that somehow is linked to Cerberus activity. Of course all this might be a coincidence, we're still more following a hunch here than facts. Well, that's all we have, for now."

"What do you mean, that's all?" Mojo jumped up, but Amalthea gestured him to calm down, casting a quick look to their left. The lounge had filled with another handful of crew members. They had steered towards the bar, and hearing Mojo flare up promised the right kind of entertaining to go well with their colorful drinks. Mojo got the hint, and sat down.

"You throw a conspiracy theory on the table like a bone in front of a starving vorcha, and that's all? Where did you get these number from, kid? The names? We didn't find anything like that when we were searching for it!"

"I have a reliable source, let's leave it at that." She patted the laptop, but her voice was cold, and the smile was gone. She wasn't kidding - if he wanted to learn more, Mojo would have to beat it out of her. A mysterious source she didn't wish to talk about, interesting.

"So this thing is getting bigger and weirder." Arek stared thoughtfully at his empty bottle, his hands clenching the fabric of his pants where they covered his injury. "What are we gonna do now?"

"That's what I want to ask you." Amalthea's voice was serious as she spoke. "Our hands are tied. If we do any more solo runs we'll lose our jobs, and when we have to leave the ship, we lose our mobility and resources. The question is - do we want to do this for our ego, or to stop whatever is going on? What is our priority?"

"To stop whatever is going on, of course! It's the right thing!" Arek's back straightened as he answered with confident passion.

"And when the right thing is our priority, you're going to Crusher," Mojo stated. Amalthea and Meyrani nodded.

"That's correct. But I want to hear what you have to say. I want to convince him to give us access to the stolen data, and that the case will be returned to us, or that we'll at least be allowed to help working on it. Yet, there's still a chance that we'll get in more trouble if I talk to him. I'll only do it when you all agree that it's the right thing to do. We either do that and risk to be hung together, or forget about the whole thing. These are our only options."

Mojo saw a third option - working on this on their own, all risks included. For that, they needed the data they had stolen from Cerberus. He saw no reason why they wouldn't be able to do it again, this time from the Alliance. If they followed that idea, however, they'd lose everything else, as Amalthea had said. No, he wrapped up the plan and pushed it out of his mind. The possible benefits didn't outweigh the certain loses.

"Talk to him. Find a good excuse why we didn't mention it earlier." Mojo picked up his empty glass and stood up. "Meanwhile, if you don't mind, I'll get another drink, before we lose access to the bar once Crusher kicked us out of the airlock in person." He had no desire to listen to the rest of the debate. Meyrani and Amalthea had made up their minds. Arek had given his answer, and he would stick with it.

He gave a chuckle. There really was no doubt about that, wasn't it? Amazing, how his perception had changed in a matter of a few days. Less than a week ago Mojo would have thought differently, hell, he himself would have decided differently. For better reasons of course, hunting down Murakos was his priority, and he'd do that alone if he had to. As for Arek - he had apologized on Omega, trusted him on Noveria, and he hadn't left Mojo left behind when he had the chance. Finally, Arek had defended him in front of the captain. All that was difficult to ignore, even for his stubborn mind. Mojo would have suspected him to jump at decisions that saved the human's own ass before, he couldn't do so now.

"One more!" he called, and shoved the glass towards Patrick. The barkeeper nodded, holding up three fingers, for the three minutes he would need to finish another order. Mojo didn't mind, this would give him a quiet moment before he had to choose between leaving and returning to his squad mates. He leaned against the bar's counter, he watched them. With their sombre faces and frowns it was a miracle they hadn't caught the attention of everyone else in the room. Most people coming her wanted to relax, and, of course, gossip, either spread it, trade it, or find it. Amalthea's reasoning why it was better for them to talk here than in a quiet corner made sense, but she had obviously forgotten that their squad had already been the in the focus of gossip over the last few weeks. Well, he couldn't deny that he was to blame for that, and now his behavior was coming back and biting him in the ass. All because of a mistake in his judgement. His life could be easier if he had just made clear that he preferred solitude about random companionship, but no, of course he had to act like a rabid vorcha in a china shop. That was all Arek's fault, and if Mojo only kept repeating that in his mind, maybe he would believe it himself. Humans, nothing but trouble, probably the only thing the older turian generations were right about. And yet, they were so oddly, well, compatible. So tempting - not despite, but because of their physical differences. He cursed the day years ago, when he had given in to his curiosity. Yes, humans were tempting. That he wasn't the only non-human on board who agreed with that comforted him, although he wished someone else than that drell shared his fascination.

Look who we have here. Gotta leave it to him, he is persistent when he put his mind to something. Or someone. He smirked at the awkward silent that had fallen over the trio. Somebody tapped on Mojo's shoulder - Patrick, with the new drink.

"Looks like somebody's claiming your spot." Patrick was gone before Mojo could answer. Funny, that the bartender would comment on Barat's arrival. If Mojo didn't misinterpret his team's faces and gestures, they didn't invite the drell to sit down with much enthusiasm, but he didn't seem to be interested in sitting down by Amalthea's side anyway. Barat was standing behind the sofa with Meyrani and Arek, smiling, his large, black eyes sparkling in the artificial light. He bent over, his arms lying on the backrest, between Mojo's two squadmates, but slightly leaning towards Arek. Mojo was sure that wasn't by accident. Arek's pose was stiff, and he stared at the table, talking with a weak, polite smile. Finally, Amalthea pointed at the free seat next to her, but Barat shook his head. Then, he moved behind Arek, and put his hands on his shoulders. Whatever he said, it made the two women laugh. Arek, however, showed a forced grin as he replied, and began to rise.

Mojo slammed his glass on the table. Without another thought, he crossed the room with few, long strides and stood by the group before Arek was standing.

"Mojo, there you are!" Barat laughed, his hands still touching Arek. "I was invited to sit with your wonderful friends, but I declined. It would have been preposterous if I had taken your seat while there was still the slightest chance of you rejoining! And can you imagine, Arek finally allows me to treat him for dinner!"

"Too bad that he's an idiot who can't remember his appointments. We have to be somewhere, excuse us." Under the surprised eyes of Barat, Amalthea and Meyrani, he grabbed Arek's arm, pulled him up, and dragged the overwhelmed human out of the lounge.

x x x

Author's Note

Most of the next chapter is naughty. That's why it will be very short here on ffnet, I'm sorry for that! I'll, however, tell you where to find the full chapter, don't worry!