As it turned out the Alliance was able to shoot down one of the fleeing Mantis gunships. It happened somewhere over northern California. They sent in the combat search and rescue and found a wounded turian pilot trying to escape and evade near Mount Shasta in the southern Cascades. He hadn't made it far. A broken leg saw to that.

He was brought back to Vancouver for interrogation, but didn't say much when the exploitation team questioned him. For days various interrogators spent hours at a time with him, but he was stalwart. He had nothing to tell them and claimed ignorance of anyone that participated in the attack on Vancouver. He offered the same explanation; he was hired by an intermediary and didn't know anyone else on the operation. He wasn't headed to the same location after the mission. Prisoner extraction was another facet of the op he wasn't privy to. And so on.

Staff Commander Makani Kahoku sat dutifully behind the shabby desk in his drab command tent studiously reviewing the notes that had been produced by the investigation into the attack. Information was scarce. There were few witnesses. Only a handful of those who had seen the attackers had survived and many of them were in critical condition. The intruders had expertly retrieved their own dead and wounded. The only uniform description they could get from witnesses was that they were well-armed and equipped and the emblem of a skull wreathed in ragged angel's wings was etched onto many sets of armor. The intel section had nothing and Alliance brass was too inundated to be of any help with additional support assets.

Kahoku frowned. Their only lead was the turian pilot, but he wasn't cooperating. There had been talk of utilizing more draconian or enhanced techniques on him. But Kahoku stifled any such suggestions.

"Sir!" the panicked voice of one of his subordinate officers penetrated the calm in the tent. The flap folded back and a breathless Lieutenant stepped in. "Sir, the detention center is under attack."

"What?" Kahoku blared. He shot to his feet, palms slammed on the desk. "By who?"

The Lieutenant calmed himself and paused for a moment. "It's Jack, sir. Jack is attacking the detention center."

"Damn it," Kahoku sighed. "She's after the turian. Is QRF en route?"

"The quick reaction force is already on site, sir. But she's barricaded the doors. They're prepping to breach now."

"No, have them standby," Kahoku ordered. If they made entry she would obliterate them with ease. The last thing he wanted was his own men being killed by Jack, who was understandably overwhelmed with emotion. This would take some command finesse. He rounded his desk and tugged his Phalanx heavy pistol's shoulder holster on. "Let's go."

A smoke stack rose from the rear of the detention center and a trio of wounded guards lay writhing on the deck just outside the front entrance. Medics were seeing to them. The QRF's Marines had taken up positions in the best cover they could find, weapons trained on the entrance of the building. The distant sound of an alarm bawled loudly until it finally went silent.

Kahoku and the Lieutenant landed rapidly in an Alliance air-car. The doors flew open and Kahoku stepped out in a whirlwind of haste.

"What happened?" Kahoku demanded as he arrived among the group of assembled Marines.

"Jack showed up, sir. She demanded to see the prisoner," a Marine with a bloodied lip and battered ego reported. "We told her she wasn't authorized." His eyes glanced down at the three immobilized troops. "She didn't like that too much."

"Where are we at with the breaches?" This he asked the QRF commander. His face was hidden behind the plating of his combat helmet, but Kahoku recognized the voice.

"Everything is prepped, sir. We're just waiting for the order to go."

Kahoku's eyes fixated on the entrance of the detention center. He ran a shaky hand through his black hair. His tongue dabbed at dried lips. What's the best course of action, he wondered. Things could escalate quickly if he breached. Jack had certainly thrashed the Marines that had barred her from entry, but she hadn't killed anyone. That could change if they stormed the place.

"Let's see what happens," Kahoku said finally.

"But sir, the prisoner is inside," the QRF commander reminded him. "She could be-"

"I know, Sergeant. I know."

Time passed fluidly and the assorted troops outside could hear the howls of the captured turian. No one knew exactly what Jack was subjecting him to, but it was clear enough she was torturing him.

Some of the Marines didn't mind the sound. After all, the turian was a part of the brutal attack that had killed many of their compatriots. These seasoned veterans were scarcely prepared to show mercy to someone who had killed their comrades after the war was finally over. Others found it distasteful or morally reprehensible and chafed under their idleness. The QRF commander urged Kahoku to act, but he was reluctant.

Then, Jack made it easy for him. The doors to the detention center slowly eased open and the slender form of the Psychotic Biotic stepped outside casually. She was limned by the spotlights brought by the QRF vehicles. Every Marine trained their rifles on her.

She stopped several meters outside of the entrance, apparently undisturbed by the small army that encircled her. "Commander," she called to Kahoku.

"Jack."

"Let me go, Commander," she advised him loudly. "I don't want to carve a path through these Marines. But I will."

"What are you going to do, Jack?"

"I'm going to find the assholes that killed my students and I'm going to put them through a thousand times more pain that I put that guy through," she announced morbidly. She gestured behind her with a single outstretched thumb.

Kahoku looked closer and saw a smattering of blood on her stomach, chest and face. "What did you do to him, Jack?"

"What you pussies couldn't."

Commander Kahoku sighed. "This isn't the right way."

"The right way?" Jack scoffed. "The right way to what? Getting stone-walled by some jerkoff mercenary? You had him for days. Fucking days, Makani. And what did you get? Shit."

"So you torture him?"

"If that's what it takes. Yes."

"You're better than that, Jack," Kahoku told her sincerely. "You're not the same girl Shepard found on Purgatory."

A gust of wind picked up some dust behind her. She felt her pony tail flap in the breeze. "No, Makani, I'm not better than that. I'm the same hateful bitch I was then. Only now my blood is boiling and I'm anxious to shred the assholes that killed my students." She took a few steps forward. The assembled Marines flinched and then steadied their aim on her. "So am I going to unleash hell on your Marines or are you going to let me pass?"

This was not the embers of some flame waiting for the breeze to smother it of life. This was a torrid fire storm prepared to consume all life that it encountered. All it needed was the right tinder to get it started.

Kahoku balked. In his peripherals he saw some of the nervous QRF members glance at him and then back at Jack. He was well aware Jack was capable of slaughtering them all. He hesitated, for the first time truly unsure of how he should proceed. The wind continued to pick up. It whistled as it passed and sent an unwelcome chill down the Commander's spine. "Jack," he murmured, then fell silent for some moments. He let out a sigh and gestured to the Marines. "Stand down. All of you stand down."

The Marines hesitated, but eventually did as they were ordered.

Jack strode toward Kahoku, her eyes still locked on her former commanding officer. When she was near him she reached out and offered him the Systems Alliance emblem that was worn on the dress uniform. "Here," she said. "I won't be needing this."

"Jack."

"Commander, I have something to take care of. I've already got my shuttle prepped. Don't send anyone after me," she told him calmly, then started to walk away. Suddenly she stopped and offered a backward glance over her shoulder. "And tell Mikhailovich to go fuck himself."

She took an air-car she'd stashed behind the detention, lifted into the air in a spray of debris and detritus and headed to the Alliance's nearby airfield. Her Kodiak was sitting idly on the tarmac near where she landed.

The cabin to her commandeered vessel hinged open with a mechanical hiss and Jack coolly stepped inside. The auto-lights illuminated the cabin. And she quickly learned she wasn't alone. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm going with you."

"No, Prangley. You definitely are not," Jack responded icily.

Jason Prangley rose from the seat he'd been waiting patiently in. His face was a stone mask of determination. "Yes I am. I don't care what you say."

Jack's faced contorted into a scowl. In an instant she lunged forward, grasped Prangley by the throat and slammed him against the Kodiak's bulkhead. The smoky eyeliner she wore did nothing to remove the hate deep within the recesses of her eyes. She stared daggers at Prangley who struggled in her grip. "I know you don't care what I say. That's why you're such a fuck up."

"I… how could I know?" Prangley muttered. "How could I know about an attack like that?"

Jack tilted her head as he attempted to speak. Her lips curled into a sneer. Then she released him. "Get out."

Prangley fell to his knees. A trembling hand reached up and rubbed at his throat. "No." He glanced up at her defiantly.

"I'm not going to say it again," Jack threatened. A purple aura began to form around her.

"They meant everything to me!" Prangley cried out in a wavering voice. "She meant everything to me. And now they're dead. They're all dead because of me. I could have saved them. I could have."

Jack felt her jaw set and the familiar surge of rage course through her veins. A voice inside her demanded action. It told her there was only way to make the hurt deep inside her go away—and that was violence. It was what she knew; it was what she was best at. Shepard had tried to rehabilitate her, but it was of no use. The one thing that could make her right again had been cruelly taken from her. And someone was going to pay a terrible price for that.

But Prangley was not the one. Jack's hands, previously curled into fists, relaxed. The biotic aura that had surrounded her dissipated. "So what do you want, Prangley?" she questioned sardonically.

Jason Prangley slowly climbed his way back to his feet. His eyes were shimmering, the flesh around them puffy. "I want revenge," he said in a cracking voice. "I want to help you get the bastards that did this."

Jack's mouth was still focused into a frown. She narrowed her eyes on him. "Why should I let you?"

"Because I have nothing. Because… because I'll go back there and blow my brains out if you don't give me the chance," he cautioned in a trembling voice. A few loose tears streamed down his cheeks, caught the edge of his jaw and rode their way down to his quivering chin.

Jack looked away from him for a moment. Her gaze fell upon the floor of the Kodiak shuttle. "Fine," she said reluctantly. "Maybe you can earn back some of my trust. But I doubt it." She stepped passed him toward the cockpit of the shuttle.

Prangley collapsed into one of the crew seats as she passed. His chest heaved up and down as he fought to control the storm of emotions inside him. "Thanks," he said in a cracked voice.

"Yeah whatever," She callously shrugged off his words. "Quit your crying. This boat doesn't have any tissues and I've got no time for pussies.

"It's time to man the fuck up, Prangley."