Lowell City, Mars

The first thing Colonel William Kynaston noticed upon entering the briefing room was the dark, hungry looks of the men seated around the table. Kynaston had been in the employ of the Systems Alliance Intelligence Service long enough to know a first-rate clusterfuck when he saw it. The sole purpose of this meeting in the capital of the Mars colony was to place blame for the very severe breach of security that Kynaston was just about to give a briefing on. A metric ton of shite, and everyone here is looking for a person to shovel it on. This is going to get very bloody interesting.

He had just entered the room and no one seemed to take notice, so Kynaston allowed himself to take stock of the five very humorless officials seated around the large conference table. First, there was Alice Korensky, governor and chief administrator of Mars. Kynaston had seen ice sculptures decorating the banquet table of upper-crust parties that had more warmth and life than she did. She put on a good act for the news vids when a smiling public face was needed, but Kynaston was sure that it took a team of makeup and construction crews hours to assemble that face. Outside of public events, Korensky never smiled, and spoke in a voice that sounded like the headmaster of the boarding school Kynaston was incarcerated at for most of his childhood. The black power suit and dark glasses only added to the whole "ice queen" effect.

Seated at the head of the table was Kenji Saito, chief Security Advisor to Systems Alliance President Toffolio. Kynaston had to wonder how the small Japanese man had gotten the job despite being only thirty-three years old. He put on a good front of the professional advisor, but it was obvious that he existed on nothing more than stimulant chems and ambition. Kynaston could see the sweating brow, the slight tremble to the hand, and the eyes that just screamed of travel lag. He's been up for at least forty hours straight.

Seated next to Administrator Korensky was Alex Hannover, the Mars Chief of Prisons. Kynaston knew that Mars was ideal for prison construction in the Sol system. Lots of open space, close proximity to Earth, and a lot of free mining that prisoners could be utilized for. And Warden of Wardens probably seemed like a very cushy post for the ladder-climbing civil servant. Looking at him, though, Kynaston saw the face of a man who just got caught sleeping at the wheel. Pale but composed. If Kynaston stepped closer, he was sure that the smell of alcohol would be evident on Hannover's breath. Bet you haven't been looking forward to this little family meeting.

The most surprising face at the table was none other than Admiral Steven Hackett, commanding officer of the entire Alliance Fifth Fleet. Kynaston couldn't fathom why Hackett was here of all places, when his primary command was on Arcturus Station. This seemed almost like slumming for someone as prestigious as the Admiral. Whatever he's here for, it almost certainly has nothing to do with a prison break.

But it was the last person that actually made Kynaston pause and take notice. To the untrained eye, the young, tall man in his early thirties could blend right into a crowd and disappear. The suit was average, probably no more than a hundred credits in any clothing store in human space. But Kynaston saw far more. It was imperceptible to anyone not in the business, but Kynaston saw it all. The slight upturned angle to the chin, the mouth that had a minute hint of an all-knowing smirk, and the eyes that held an air of smugness and superiority. Kynaston knew exactly what that look said. It had been put forth by a nameless agent over a century ago, back when the FBI was still a separate agency from the NABI. Kynaston had read the quote while archiving the case notes of agents long since dead. The look said, I come from times and places beyond your comprehension. We have held governments in our hand, and altered the course of human civilization. Our history is unknowable, replaced by arcane lore. We are The Company. Mortals, fuck off.

Administrator Korensky was the first to acknowledge the Colonel's presence. "Colonel Kynaston, I assume that you have completed your investigation."

Kynaston snapped to attention. "The investigation is still being conducted, and most likely won't be fully complete for several days. I do have enough for a general recitation of the facts."

Security Advisor Saito fidgeted in his seat. "Colonel, I am due to travel back to Arcturus Station in a little less than an hour," he said, his English only having the faintest trace of an accent. "I have a veritable shitstorm of crises that I have to give the President a briefing on. I have colonies vanishing out in the Traverse, recruitment quotas for Alliance personnel down nearly ten percent from expected levels, and I've got the batarians building what can only be a weapon of mass destruction that they're calling an energy production project. It would be nice to be able to report one damned problem that has a quick resolution."

"Sorry sir, but I'm afraid this one is going to be something of a ballsed-up mess." Kynaston tapped a console on the table, bringing up a large aerogel screen showing what appeared to be a maglev train stopped dead on its track. "As you are all most likely aware, at oh dark thirty, night before last, a transport train carrying prisoners on a routine trip from Charitum Montse Maximum Security Prison to Lowell City was intercepted en-route by an unknown party. The assailants boarded the transport, killing almost everyone aboard. We are still looking into it, but so far, we've been unable to find any motive for this attack."

Korensky turned her gaze to Warden Hannover. "I know that you have an excellent reputation in the realm of Correctional Administration, Mr. Hannover. Your work on similar facilities on Earth and Terra Nova have been quite impressive. So I hope you will keep those words in mind when I ask you how the hell could security have been so lax that you allow a transport train carrying eighty-three of your prisoners to be intercepted without anyone getting a warning out."

Hannover cleared his throat. "I wish I could tell you more. We have very elaborate security protocols in place any time prisoners are being transported. There is a minimum of one guard for every five inmates, full immobilizing restraints are employed at all times, and the transport is in constant contact with both the place of departure and the destination. The comm channels used for communications are carefully monitored around the clock," Hannover shrugged, apologetically. "I'm sorry, But I just have no idea how anyone could have done this."

"Sounds like incompetence to me," The Company agent muttered under his breath.

Korensky gave him a dirty look, but refrained from actually addressing the agent. Probably shit scared of him. Kynaston signaled for attention. "Warden Hannover is correct. The security protocols were in place at all times. I checked with both the prison and the Lowell City transmitters. Both systems reported the train's progress as normal. Neither station detected any kind of deviation from the train's transponder. According to all sources, the train was never in any trouble."

Admiral Hackett spoke up for the first time. "How exactly is that possible, Colonel Kynaston? How could somebody stop the train without anyone on either side noticing?"

Glad you bloody asked. "I've been crunching some facts on that one. The transponder channel that links the train to both the point of origin and the point of arrival is highly encrypted. Theoretically, only the Warden of the prison and the Chief of Prisons should have access to the transponder codes. Still, when you eliminate all of the variables and are left with only facts, the answer is obvious. Someone had the codes and used them to disrupt the transponder signal."

"How is that possible," Hannover sputtered. "Those codes require government level clearance to obtain."

"What about the motive?" Saito asked. "Why would anyone go to the trouble of stealing the codes and stopping a prison transport train just to execute all the prisoners and guards?"

"Not all of the prisoners," Kynaston said, placing his hands behind his back.

All eyes turned back to him. "What do you mean, not all of them," Korensky asked, her eyebrows arching from underneath her glasses.

"We did a thorough headcount of the bodies," Kynaston replied, bringing up the data on the aerogel screen. "Sixteen guards, the two conductors, and eighty-two prisoners were among the dead. One prisoner was unaccounted for."

Hannover was suddenly on his feet. "Unaccounted for? Which one?"

Kynaston pointed to the screen. "Prisoner 66315. Doctor Sirogoj Curkovic."

At the mention of the name, the Company agent started massaging his temples. Hackett scratched his chin. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"It should." Kynaston tapped another button on the console, bringing up the prisoner sheet for Curkovic. "Sirogoj Curkovic. Sixty-two years old. Croatian. Received perfect scores on a college aptitude test at the age of twelve. Entered the Michigan Institute of Technology on a full scholarship at the age of thirteen. Graduated with a double doctorate in engineering and theoretical physics at the age of seventeen. Became head of the Alliance Special Weapons Division when he was twenty years old. Some experts say he was the reason why we were able to drive the turians out of Shanxi during the war. Mental acumen placed in a comparable level to some salarians."

"If he was such an asset, then why was he in prison?" Korensky asked.

Hackett nodded, finally placing the name. "The Luna VI incident."

Saito seemed to place the name as well. "You're talking about the rogue VI that killed several Marines on the Luna Proving Grounds two years ago."

Kynaston nodded. "Indeed. The public story was that the station's VI went off the bloody track and started gunning down the marines taking part in the exercise. Took the intervention of an N7 unit to finally shut down the VI and retake the base." Kynaston shot a quick glance to the Company Agent. "Of course, like I said, that was the public story."

That statement seemed to finally rouse the Agent from his silence. "Colonel, I hardly think that everyone in this room has the clearance for that. I don't think I need to remind you that there are protocols for this-"

Hackett held up his hand. "I do have clearance Agent Hauser. As I remember, my clearance is quite a bit higher than yours. And I'm making the call here. Colonel Kynaston, you may proceed."

I could bloody well kiss you, Admiral. And what's this? The invincible agent didn't like having his name revealed. Who says that there isn't a God above. "Of course, Admiral. What wasn't so widely known is that the VI didn't actually go rogue. Dr. Curkovic was the primary designer of the VI system. It seems that he actually designed the system to open fire on the marines as soon as the exercise began. That was discovered when the cleanup team moved in after the system was shut down. The good doctor didn't even bother to try to hide the modifications he made."

Korensky leaned forward in her seat. "And why exactly would someone of his stature do that?"

Kynaston grinned. "Sometimes, the line between genius and batshit insane is a thin one. It turns out, Curkovic crossed the line, drove over it in a Mako, and then pissed all over it. In fact, Curkovic's last five psychological evaluations before the Luna incident listed severe emotional disturbance. The fifth one, in fact, diagnosed him with probable outright megalomania. But due to the work he was doing for Alliance Secret Ops, the evaluations were somehow lost."

"Ridiculous," Hauser said, some of the smug look vanishing from his face. "Dr. Curkovic has never worked for Alliance Black Ops. He was strictly in the employ of Special Weapons."

Kynaston's eye twitched. Did you really just say that? Are you really serving yourself up to me like a pint of stout? Dear God in Heaven above, I take back all the things I said about you from my senior year of boarding school. "He's never worked for Black Ops?"

"Was I unclear, Colonel? No, the man has never worked for Black Ops."

"Well, that's interesting." Kynaston tapped the console again, bringing up a different screen. "Because according to MI6 extranet intercepts, Dr. Curkovic has had regular access to the Alliance MILNET for the entire two years he was incarcerated." He added with a smile, "With Black Level security clearance. Now, I don't think Admiral Hackett here has that kind of access, but I think we can guess which agency does."

Hauser suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Now wait just a minute-"

Kynaston didn't stop. "From what we've been able to read so far, most of the people Curkovic's been in contact with are the research teams of various defense contractors, most of which have active deals with the Alliance military. But there is one name that doesn't fit that profile." Kynaston tapped the console again, zooming in on one of the extranet logs. "Curkovic was having quite a few conversations with one Mikhail Delanovich. The interesting thing here is that this Delanovich person doesn't seem to be a defense contractor. In fact, he doesn't actually appear to exist. The domain name is a fake, and the signal originated from deep inside the Terminus Systems."

At that point, Korensky, Hannover, and Saito all stood up and began firing off angry accusations at Agent Hauser. Kynaston could make out a few of them. Company bullshit. Gross breach of security. Kynaston's favorite had to be official inquiry. After only a few seconds of this, Hauser decided to beat a hasty retreat. Hannover followed him out, still railing against what he saw as a deliberate usurpation of his prison system. Korensky and Saito simply watched them go, livid masks of rage etched onto both their faces.

Finally rising from his seat, Admiral Hackett decided to play the part of the calming presence. "I think perhaps it might be better to reconvene at a different time."

Korensky nodded in agreement. "Thank you Admiral. I think that's for the best. Oh eight hundred tomorrow then?"

Saito walked up and shook Hackett's hand. "Thank you for attending Admiral. I know that you have quite a lot on your plate. Dammit, the President is just going to love this."

Saito left without another word. Korensky nodded to Hackett, and then turned to give a long, hard stare at Kynaston. If looks could kill. It was obvious that she didn't quite appreciate the little stunt that Kynaston just played in her capital. Luckily, I don't answer to you. Finally, just to maintain her diplomatic posture, she gave a slight nod in Kynaston's direction.

"Thank you for the briefing, Colonel. My own investigators can handle it from here."

Kynaston nodded back at her. "Those glasses make you look like a wanker. You do know that, right?"

For her credit, Korensky knew to walk away before she did or said anything that could result in a scandal. She stormed out of the room in a huff, clamping her mouth shut to avoid what was most certainly trying to explode forth. Kynaston and Hackett watched her leave until the doors clicked shut behind her. When they were finally alone, Hackett gave an amused smirk.

"It's a damned good thing you're not in the diplomatic corps. You'd most likely start the First Contact War all over again if we ever sent you to Palaven."

Kynaston gave a smirk of his own. "Not my job to be diplomatic."

Hackett shrugged. "Still, you did seem to enjoy yourself."

"Good work is happy work, Admiral."

Hackett took a moment to straighten his uniform. "If you're not too eager to jump back into that happy work, would you mind joining me for a drink?"

Kynaston finally laughed. "Thought you'd never bloody ask."

Ten minutes later, both of them sat in the Lowell City starport bar, Alliance military caps resting on the table. Hackett had ordered a bourbon on the rocks while Kynaston went to work on a pint of Guinness. Hackett gave a scowl to Kynaston's beer and shook his head. "I never get used to you Brits drinking that warm."

Kynaston raised his glass. "That's because we don't have to ice our beer down to kill the piss flavor."

Hackett smiled and took another sip. "So, you really don't care that Agent Hauser is probably going to have you on his shit list for the rest of eternity."

"Hell, Admiral. I've gotten my name on so many shit lists over the years that I'm sure half the bloody Alliance would love to see some accident befall me. But as for Hauser, exposing dirty little Company secrets is one of the things that makes me want to get up in the morning. That, and reminding them every January first that another year has gone by, and I still haven't retired."

"So," Hackett said, keeping a level gaze on Kynaston. "About this whole prison break thing?"

Kynaston snorted. "Doesn't exactly take a bloody genius to see it. Whoever broke him out did so for one reason. To make use of Curkovic's skills as a weapons maker. And whoever did it had access to high level Alliance intell and security codes."

"Any idea on who it might be?"

"One of the best designers of advanced weaponry in the entire galaxy?" Kynaston shrugged. "Who wouldn't want him? I'm sure whoever the Alliance chooses to carry on the investigation will come up with a veritable buffet of nefarious blighters who fit the bill. Not really my problem anymore."

"I wasn't talking to whoever the Alliance decides to assign to this." Hackett leaned in a bit closer. "I'm asking you."

Kynaston swirled the contents of his glass. "I don't have any hard facts. Just theories."

"Then give me your theory."

Kynaston took a long swig of his beer. "All right. You want to know who I think it was? Batarians."

Hackett's eyes went wide. "You're kidding?"

"Afraid not, old chap." Kynaston finished off his glass and signaled for another round. "Lord only knows how many batarian raids I've had the ill fortune to see the aftermath of. The prison train has some of their hallmarks."

"Such as?"

"Well, to start with, the whole thing just reeks of a professional raider. Whoever did this knew exactly how to board a moving vehicle and quickly neutralize anyone they find. But I know what you're going to say. Any group who's ever hijacked a ship could do that. Fine. Then let me get to the juicy part. The prisoners were gunned down still shackled to their seats. Simple. A group of men line up and open fire. Over in a matter of seconds. But the guards? They were lined up, one by one and executed. And most of them were killed by a different weapon than the last. Shotguns, rifles, pistols, even a couple of slit throats. All one shot per man to the back of the head. And none of the bullets recovered from the bodies had the same striation marks. So, either a few men kept exchanging weapons to execute the guards or..."

Hackett nodded grimly. "They all took turns."

"Give the man a cigar." The waiter came by with another Guinness, which Kynaston gratefully accepted. "That is a classic signature of batarian raiding parties. Secure the ship and have a little fun and games with the now helpless crew. You can see why I didn't mention this at that most secret palaver today."

"Indeed. No one would want to be the one to admit that batarians somehow managed to slip right into our own backyard and slap us in the face."

"Sodding politicians and their little fiefdoms of shite. Useless as fake tits on a corpse." Kynaston took another long swig of beer. "So, Admiral. Why exactly were you there today? This hardly seems like something the CO of the entire Fifth Fleet would give a toss about."

Hackett smiled. "Believe it or not, I was on leave to visit the family back on Earth. Got another granddaughter. That makes the running total nine. I'm starting to lose count."

Kynaston raised his glass. "I think a quick congrats are in order. Nine rugrats? Getting a bit crowded at home?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Starting to think I might have to take an extended leave just to get to know them all over again. How about you?"

"Peachy," Kynaston said with a cheer that Hackett didn't quite believe. "The family just purchased another dozen Ezo rigs out on the frontier, bringing our total up to twenty. My youngest nephew just graduated Oxford with an MBA. Not only that, but my cousin Stanley is getting Knighted in a couple of months. All in all, I'd say life is dangerously close to perfection."

Hackett shook his head. "You always were a terrible liar. So, no bullshit Billy. How are you really doing?"

"I've been serving in Military Intelligence for almost thirty years, I have the Star of Terra, and I'm still a bloody Colonel." Kynaston downed his remaining beer. "How the hell do you think I'm doing? I write the reports and compile the information that no one wants to hear, don't bother with the sugar coating to make any of those inconvenient facts go down easier, and I speak my bloody mind when no one else will. And what do I get from them? Empty promises of 'we'll get right on that' and a bloody black mark on my record from here to eternity."

Hackett just sighed. As far as he was concerned, the treatment that William Kynaston had received over the past thirty years was a disgrace. Kynaston had served the Alliance since the First Contact War, first as an N7 operative, then as a member of Alliance Military Intelligence. Kynaston was well suited for the job in all regards but one; he despised the politics. When he found out a bit of sensitive intel, he didn't believe in holding it back, or omitting certain uncomfortable facts. It had been the milestone that hung from his neck his entire career. Kynaston was brilliant at the spy game. From forming contacts, to information retrieval and counterintelligence, he was one of the best. But he couldn't play the political game that came with the job. And it was, Hackett suspected, the debacle of two years ago that placed one of the most brilliant minds in AMI into an investigation of a prison train.

"You're still holding the torch for her? After all this time?"

Kynaston's gaze narrowed. "Somebody bloody well has to. She saves the lives of everyone in the galaxy, and as a thank you, the Council tells everyone that she's a lunatic? Bollocks to that!"

"You think she wasn't crazy?"

"Believe me, if she was a head case, I would know!" Kynaston suddenly realized how tightly he was holding his glass and put it on the table to avoid breaking it. "I've run the numbers and I've run her profile dozens of times. It doesn't add up. Her whole family wiped out on Mindior, she loses her entire unit on Akuze, and somehow manages to keep it together. Even after the time she gets left alone with captured batarian slavers, she doesn't slot the lot of them. She goes on to years of extraordinary service, gets to be the first human Specter, brings down Saren, saves the lives of the entire Council, and only then suddenly loses her mind and starts raving about sentient machines coming to wipe out all life? A bloody brain dead politician could see that makes no sense. But no, they all say she was under 'undue stress', and made the whole bloody thing up. I swear, if there was a more useless lot than politicians, I defy you to find them. Especially that turian councilor. If you were a thought going through his head, it would be the quickest trip in the galaxy."

"So, you believe she was telling the truth?"

Kynaston just nodded. "I'm not a politician Steven. I don't have to deal with the burden of shite. I deal in facts. So, when I add all the facts together, about her psychological profile, her story, and the evidence before me, I'm left with only one conclusion. Everything she said was true."

Hackett looked away. "Have you ever thought that she just might be very charismatic and able to convince people of far out stories?"

"I've thought of that. In fact, if it had just been the crew of the Normandy, then that might be a possibility. But it wasn't. Not only did her entire crew believe her, but she managed to convince a turian, a quarian, an asari, and even a krogan of the same thing. I saw how vocally they defended her afterward. Nobody is that accomplished a liar."

Hackett seemed to understand completely. "I knew her for some time. Used her on several high risk assignments. She always got the job done, no matter what it called for. She could be subtle and diplomatic when she needed to be. She could also be the hammer of a vengeful god when that was needed. She was David Anderson's protege, and I've known him for decades. He and I both agreed on one thing. She had many many quirks in that complicated mind, but one thing she did not have was ego. She got the job done and moved on. She didn't bask in the limelight, or demand praise after doing her job. Hell, I watched that interview with her on the Citadel two years ago. I can honestly say that the only people she liked less than slavers were reporters. So when I heard the charge that she made up the story about the Reapers to drum up fear so she could draw out her fantasy of being the big hero a bit longer, I nearly puked in my soup. Believe me, when she made her report on the Reapers known, I believed her. Still do."

"That's good to know," Kynaston said. "That's why I've been compiling an intelligence report on the Reapers for the last two years."

Hackett almost dropped his own glass. "You've been compiling a report? For two years? I can't imagine the Alliance would ever agree to that."

Kynaston smiled, a hint of mischief about him. "As long as I use my own resources and keep it quiet, the brass doesn't seem to give a tuppenny damn what I do. Sometimes, there are perks to being a pariah in your own job. I put together an attack profile, using her own report and a few contacts I've made. The results aren't pretty. If you take everything into account, the origin point of the Citadel, to the power that Sovereign alone possessed, to the numbers of Reapers she estimated to exist, and the end result is always the same. Everybody dies. So, yes. I keep gathering what intell I can, and I keep preparing for the worst. Fighting the good fight and all."

"I'm sure she would appreciate that." Hackett put his cap back on. "About this missing weapons designer. Something about this makes me nervous. Do you have any idea where we might start looking?"

Kynaston nodded. "If he was contacting somebody out in the Terminus Systems, there's really only one place it could be."

Hackett knew instantly. "Omega."

"Spot on. It's as they say. Everybody who wants to hide goes to Omega eventually."

"Listen, Billy. I know you don't have official authorization to send an actual team to Omega, but I'd still like to have it investigated. Do you think you can do that? Off the books."

Kynaston scratched his chin. "I know some folks there. I could have them take a shufti, see what they can find out."

"I appreciate that. Keep me informed of what you find. The sooner we find out, the better. And good luck with your other project. I'm sure she would be grateful."

Kynaston raised his glass. "To Lilitu Shepard."

Hackett raised his own glass. "May she forgive the galaxy for turning its back on her."

"Chin chin."

The Citadel

Lieutenant Commander Niveas Lucultus figured that if there was one universal thing that truly united every civilized species in the galaxy, it wasn't music, philosophy, sex, or even war. No, the one thing that seemed to be the same everywhere in the galaxy was waiting in line. The flight from Palaven to the Citadel had been pleasant enough, but trying to get through customs and security was rapidly becoming an ordeal in and of itself. Dozens of weary travelers of all species were enduring a very long line that was getting longer by the moment. There was muted muttering and cursing, that Niveas could easily tell was getting louder as time went on. A lot of the annoyance was focused on the glaring incompetence of the C-Sec officials in charge of the customs desk. Niveas found that amusing. Sure, it had to be some incompetence. But she had long ago suspected that lines were there for a reason, especially in government controlled areas. People needed to feel the bureaucracy, see it around them, remind them who was in charge. And the best way to make people feel the bureaucracy was to make them wait in line.

While everyone else kept checking the time or shifting the position of baggage, Niveas used the the wait to take in her surroundings. It had been more than two years since the last time she had set foot on the Citadel, just before the geth attack. There were a lot of new sights and smells, and Niveas tried to take in as much as she could. The first thing she noticed was the increased security. The C-Sec presence was twice what she remembered from before, and a lot of extra security checkpoints had been set up along the main entryways. The second thing she noticed was the increased number of human C-Sec officers. Sure, there had been many back before Battle of the Citadel, but now, their numbers appeared to have grown exponentially. Makes sense. Lose eight cruisers to save the lives of a Council that had treated them like children for thirty years, and the least you could do was hire more of them to keep watch over the gates. Niveas did think that granting the humans a Council seat was a bit much, but she wasn't a politician.

"Next."

Niveas' attention came back to reality as the customs officer waved her over. She stepped briskly up to the security desk, meeting the gaze of the young human female C-Sec officer in charge of customs. The human was young, still in her twenties.

"Name, please."

Niveas had to suppress a laugh. A turian, wearing officer black armor, with the red and gold stripes of Hierarchy CID stands before you with name and rank clearly visible, and you ask for a name? The human was definitely a rookie, regurgitating the standard security questions without actually knowing whether or not they were relevant. She couldn't blame the human too much. I was just like her, years ago.

"Niveas Lucultus."

The C-Sec agent typed it into her console. "Reason for visit?"

She barely had time to get the sentence out before the console pinged her. She looked down, her eyes suddenly widening. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant Commander Lucultus. I didn't realize..." She instantly straightened up, her tone becoming much more respectful. "I've been instructed to inform you that Executor Chellick has requested your immediate attention. You need to report to the Presidium immediately. It's through-"

"I've been there before. I know the way."

Niveas walked away without another word. She knew that security officers had to start from somewhere, same as any other profession. But guarding a place as vitally important as the Citadel? This was not the place to start rookies. Still, it wasn't her call to make, so no need to waste mental energy worrying about it.

After several more checkpoints and security scanners, she finally got into the Citadel proper. She was surprised to see a human C-Sec captain when she passed through. She had an appointment to keep, but she did allow her eyes to rest on him for just a split second. But in that second, she got quite a profile on the Captain. This human was most definitely not a rookie. She could tell that this human had seen quite a bit during his tenure, if the deep lines in his face were any indication. Okay, at least a few worthwhile people then.

Minutes later, as the elevator took her up to the Presidium, Niveas once again found herself thinking about the reason she was here. It had happened so quickly that she scarcely had time to think about it. Her Commanding Officer on Palaven called her into his office and told her that she was to report to the Citadel as quickly as possible. An hour later, she was on a commercial flight from Palaven to the Citadel, still with no idea why she had been ordered to do so. Even now, moments away from a meeting with the head of Citadel Security, she was completely at a loss. And Niveas hated feeling that way. She was an investigator, CID through and through. It was her job to to know what was going on around her, or do her damnedest if she didn't know. A dozen scenarios had already gone through her mind, none of them standing up to her own mental scrutiny. As the elevator finally arrived at the Presidium, Niveas realized that she was going to have to go into this meeting uninformed.

As the door to the Executor's office opened, Niveas reflected on the last time she had been here. It was just after Sovereign's attack on the Citadel two years ago. Back then, she had burst in, desperate for information about her mother. At the time, the office was in shambles, and the old Executor nowhere to be found. As she entered this time, things were much different. The whole area had been rebuilt, and the office looked like it had just been completed. The decor was still utilitarian in style, typical of a turban officer. Seated behind the desk was Executor Chellick, white facepaint locked into an impassive stare. He regarded the barefaced female for a quick moment before he spoke up.

"Lieutenant Commander Lucultus, welcome to the Citadel. I apologize for the cloak and dagger air about this, but this is a very sensitive matter."

"It's no problem, sir," she said locking her hands behind her back, her voice keeping respectfully inferior-to-superior.

"I wish we had more time to bring you up to speed, but we're going to need you to get started on this immediately." Chellick steepled his clawed fingers. "What I'm about to tell you is highly classified. Council Level secrecy. We can't have any of this come out before the time is right. Do I make myself clear?"

Niveas remained still as a statue. "Perfectly, sir."

Chellick nodded. "Good. Does the name Nashara Tashaeis mean anything to you?"

Niveas opened up her mental archive, the organized place in her mind where she stored away the facts and information accumulated over her lifetime. It was a technique her mother had taught her years ago, a way to organize her memories for optimal retrieval. It took only a moment for her to find the name.

"The vice-president of Stellar Dynamics on Illium. I've heard the name."

"That's the one. Approximately seventeen hours ago, she was found dead in her apartment. Beyond that, Illium police are keeping a tight lid on the crime scene and the story. You've been selected to lead the investigation."

That was not what Niveas expected to hear. "Me? I'm CID. Illium is not even close to CID's jurisdiction. Not even in the jurisdiction of the Hierarchy. Why would the Asari Republics ask for a turian to lead a murder investigation on one of their own colonies?"

"Between you and me Commander, I have no idea." Chellick's mandible twitched in annoyance. "To me, this whole thing reeks of political s'kak." He put his palms up. "But, when the Council personally sends a request for an outside agent to investigate a crime inside Council space, I don't ask a lot of questions. I do my job, same as you."

Niveas still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her crop. "Why not just send someone from C-Sec? This sounds like something my mother would take up for fun. I'm sure she would jump at the opportunity."

"Senior Detective Lucultus would have been my first choice. Unfortunately, she's on administrative leave for the next few days due to the shooting."

Niveas' eyes widened. "Shooting? What are you talking about?"

It was Chellick's turn to look surprised. "You mean...you didn't know?"

Her discipline had vanished, fear-anger taking its place. "What happened?"

Chellick saw that Niveas was coming slightly unhinged and was quick to respond. "She was responding to a robbery down on the Wards. She wasn't even on duty, just going back to her apartment. The suspect ran right passed her, and she immediately gave chase. She caught up to him near the Wards Access Tunnel. She challenged him, and he turned and fired off a shotgun blast. It hit her squarely in the shoulder. She was still wearing her armor, Spirits be praised. She returned fire, taking out his weapon and his arm. I assure you, her wounds are minor. But as you well know, there is mandatory leave for any officer involved in a shooting."

Niveas felt her pulse slowing down, especially after knowing that her mother was going to be alright. But that didn't do anything for the indignation she felt over her mother not bothering to inform her daughter that she'd been shot. What was she thinking? How could she not tell me?

With effort, she was able to regain her composure. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't aware of her injury. Do I at least have time to see her, before I leave?"

Chellick nodded. "The ship doesn't leave for another three hours. Take that time and use it how you want. However, once you are on that ship, I need you working the case. You were chosen because you share what your mother has. She sees things in ways most are incapable of. In my thirty years on the job, I have never seen a better investigator than Aledas Lucultus. And from what your CO on Palaven has told me, you share your mother's ability. He told me that you have solved cases with almost no solid evidence. That's what I want from you. Once you hit planet-side on Illium, the local police have been instructed to give you whatever assistance you need. Remember, you don't just speak for CID on this one. You speak for the Council. Any questions?"

Truthfully, Niveas had about a thousand questions she would prefer to have answered immediately. But she knew that no answers would be forthcoming. So, she kept her worries to herself.

"None sir."

"Good. Spirits keep you safe, Commander."

Unsurprisingly, the closer Niveas got to her mother's apartment, the more she felt her worry and tension easing. The trip had given her plenty of time to start asking herself questions about her mother's motives for keeping the injury secret. First, it was a shotgun blast at less than optimal range. Second, her mother had been in armor at the time. That alone told her that the injury couldn't have been life-threatening. Third, if the injury had been serious, then her mother or her mother's partner would have sent a communication. And finally, Niveas remembered that her mother had once said that injury was just part of the job. If it wasn't serious, then there was no point in making a huge fuss about it. And if there was one thing her mother truly excelled at, it was not making a fuss.

By the time she got to her mother's door, Niveas wasn't even thinking about the injury. She was thinking what insight her mother could shed on this sudden secretive assignment. In fact, she was hoping that the conversation would skip the pleasantries and get right to business. But she knew that wouldn't be an option. Aledas Lucultus was very much a social animal, and there was no one she liked to talk to more than her two children. The problem was that Niveas had some actual questions she wanted her mother to answer. To get to the questions, she knew that she would have to talk to her mother about unrelated topics first. It was one of the traits that made her mother so good at being an investigator. She could always tell when someone had an agenda. That included her own children.

Niveas was about to reach for the door intercom when the door's lock clicked off. She couldn't help but grin at that. Figures. Someone in C-Sec must have seen me entering Chellick's office. Leave it to my mother to know exactly how long it takes to reach her apartment from anywhere on the Citadel.

With the fact that her mother knew she was there quite clear, Niveas just walked in. She was immediately struck by how little her mother's apartment had changed over the years. Aledas had procured it after Niveas and her second-brother Aulus had moved to the Citadel more than thirty years ago. And in all that time, nothing had changed. The same furniture, the same decorations, the same everything. And as the final punctuation mark on the complete sameness of the apartment was Aledas Lucultus herself, sitting at the same desk she had for three decades. Her extranet terminal was open, and she was chatting with somebody over a live video link.

"Listen, I better go. I think I have visitors at the door. Tell the kids I said hello, and tell your mate I will have her in my thoughts. If you ever need me, just call. Indeed. Goodbye, Gavius."

Aledus stood up and turned to regard her daughter. Niveas knew that quick look she was getting was the same that she used to get a sense of the minute details of a suspect. Instead of body language, facial tics, and all the other giveaway signs of guilt, her mother was examining her for more personal reasons. Is she seeing anyone? How is the job? How is her health? Most importantly, is she seeing anyone? Aledus loved grandchildren, same as any mother. Aulus and his mate had already given her three, and Niveas knew that her mother was impatiently waiting for her to carry on the family mission.

After only a moment of scrutiny, Aledus rushed up to her and clasped Niveas' shoulder. It was a bit ackward, as Aledus still had her right arm in a sling, her shoulder wrapped tightly with medigel packs. If she felt any pain from the injury, she gave no indication of it.

"Daughter," Aledus cried out happily. "Look at you! It's been almost two years! How have you been?"

"Very well, mother. Thank you." She looked at her mother's injured arm as if she had no idea. "I didn't know you had been injured. Domestic accident?"

"Don't play coy with me. I know perfectly well that Chellick told you everything. All of the pertinent facts are open and well-known, so no need to discuss it further." Aledus turned and vanished into her small kitchen. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, thank you mother." Niveas glanced at the extranet screen. "That sounded like your old partner."

"Gavius Vakarian. Yes, that was him. You remember him?"

Niveas scoffed. "Not since you tried to set me up with his son all those years ago."

"He seemed like a nice enough young male. I thought you two would get along quite well."

"Mother, we had nothing in common with each other. That whole night we sat in silence, until we started talking about how crazy our families were for trying to set us up."

Aledus poked her head out of the kitchen. "Can't blame a mother for trying."

"Actually, yes I can," Niveas replied, a hint of a smile on her face. "That was all your doing. You and your partner."

"Perhaps. I also did it as a favor to him. He was the senior officer, I was his junior partner. We figured if our children were involved with each other, it might make the time go by faster on long stakeouts. You know, discuss the kids. Speculate on what they're up to."

"That's cold, mother. Using your own daughter to better your career. For shame." That got a laugh out of both Niveas and her mother. Aledus went back into the kitchen, where the smell of hot apha was now wafting through the room. To pass the time until her mother came back, Niveas wandered the living room, trying to see if anything really had changed. The only thing she saw was her mother's aerogel vid screen on pause. Curious, she tapped the console. She was greeted by some human news show. It didn't look like anything that came from the Citadel. She turned up the volume and finally recognized it. It was some news show out of Earth that, (oh what was the word?) 'satirized' the news of the galaxy. When the human host went to commercial, the show's name came up on the screen.

"The Daily Show? Mother, how can you watch this s'kak"

Aledus came out of the kitchen, a cup of apha in her good hand. "I like it. The show makes the news easier to choke down. If I wanted to watch endless hours of droll reporters telling me in monotone voices how badly this galaxy is going, I would watch the Citadel News Net. With this, I at least get to laugh."

"I didn't know you went for human jokes. When did this happen?"

"It's not just humans. You know they have an elcor and a salarian on the show as well?"

Niveas shook her head. "No turian would degrade themselves like that."

"Are you sure," Aledus asked in the tone of voice she reserved for when she knew something no one else did. Niveas took the verbal bait and waited for the show to come back on. The human host started in on a story about a big raid the Hierarchy Fleet carried out against a large pirate pack in the Traverse. She watched until the host brought out...

"They have a futtari TURIAN on the show?" Niveas continued to watch, morbid curiosity driving her. She watched as the turian was introduced. "Senior Violence Corespondent?"

Her mother took a sip of apha. "Who says humans don't understand us?"

Niveas smirked. "Am I going to become like you when I get older, mother?"

Aledus ran a finger across her daughter's forehead. "Only if you're lucky, daughter."

Niveas found she was actually beginning to feel at ease. Not that she ever felt uncomfortable around her mother. Quite the contrary. They were as close as any turian family could be. It was just that the apartment tended to remind her of...more unpleasant times. Forget that. Remember the other reason you're here.

"Listen mother, I need to ask you something." She figured enough time had gone by chatting about mundane things. Her mother was probably ready for the real issue. "I'm being sent by CID and the Council to investigate a murder on Illium. I can't imagine why they picked me, of all people, to go to a crime scene so far out of our jurisdiction. I wanted to know if you had any idea why I was chosen?"

"Good question," her mother said, her tone becoming thoughtful. "Who would they normally send?"

And this was the moment Niveas had been waiting for. The Game. It was something the Lucultus family had done for many years, and was one of the reasons why Niveas had developed her mother's ability to see things most did not. It had all started when Niveas was only five. She had lost a favorite toy, and had gone running to her mother practically exploding with rage and grief. She begged her mother to help her look for it. Instead of searching, her mother asked her a question. Where did you remember putting it last? Niveas had answered, but that only led to another question. How small is it? Each question led to another one. Eventually, after about ten questions, she realized where the toy had to be. She raced to the spot and sure enough, found her toy. She ran back and showed it off like it was some animal she had caught all on her own. And this became what Niveas called the Game. Whether it was a lost toy, a misplaced book, or a tough homework assignment, Aledus would never give a direct answer. She would instead ask questions until Niveas got the answer herself. As she got older, Niveas found that she eventually could start asking the questions to herself and get the answer. It was a technique she had used for decades now. But no matter how many times she did it, having her mother start it off always got better results.

She considered her mother's question. "Who would they normally send? Illium Planetary Police."

Aledus took another sip. "Good. And who would process the the crime scene?"

"IPP detectives."

Aledus nodded. "So, why wouldn't they want Illium detectives investigating the case?"

At that point, Niveas took off on her own. "Why wouldn't they? Competent detectives. Most of them asari, so centuries of investigative experience. Victim was high Illium society. Want this resolved, avoid bad press. No, no word on murder made public yet. Not a widely known event. Still makes no sense to bring in outside aide."

Aledus tapped her cup with the tip of her claw. "What do you bring to the investigation?"

Another good question. "Unique eye, techniques not often seen outside CID. Military training. Better senses than asari."

Aledus tapped the glass faster. "What do the asari have that you don't?

"More experience. Already mentioned that." Niveas was pacing the room, her gait suddenly very animated, each step almost in time with her mother's tapping. "Know the planet, know the neighborhoods. Know the people better. Most have well developed biotics, useful for..."

Niveas suddenly stopped pacing, right at the same instant that Aledus stopped tapping the cup. "I think you have it from here."

Niveas felt a shudder go through her body, the feeling she got whenever a clue that had proved elusive for so long finally clicked into place.

"They have biotics. All asari detectives train to use it. And standard asari interrogation procedures, at least with other asari, involve some level of joining minds. And any incriminating evidence is known to the detectives. So even if the case file is locked away, the investigating detective still has those secrets in their mind. So..." Niveas finally turned back to look at Aledus. "They're afraid that Nashara Tashaeis might have some dark secrets that no one wants becoming known to somebody who can take it right out of the mind."

"I think Chellick warned you about the possible sensitivity of this case." Aledus downed the rest of her apha. "Take the warning seriously. Do your best, see things like I know you can. You'll do fine. And remember what I told you the day you entered CID. Watch your back. Always."