Gratuitous Lost reference FTW! Virtual fish biscuits to those that spot it.

Chapter 8

"You seem distracted."

Shepard looked up from the couch in the Starboard Observation deck as the door hissed open to admit Miranda. After Samara had left, the observation deck had been unofficially converted into the "movie room." Shepard had been trying to watch an old comedy vid, but realized that he'd missed most of what was being said.

Miranda walked further into the room. Shepard sat up, eyeing her cautiously. They hadn't talked since the day she found Ashley's holo in his desk—he'd been busy and she had been avoiding him.

"Yeah, I am." Shepard said after a moment. "I keep... I keep thinking about Kolyat. When we left the Citadel, I felt like I was abandoning him again."

"Are you?" He looked up at her, expecting a sneering expression, but her face was clear of any mockery.

"No, but..." Shepard frowned at the empty air. "A warship isn't a place for a… young civilian. We're doing fine so far—but if this meeting with the Council and Samara works, Citadel space will finally mobilize for the Reapers and that means we're all going to be busy. Even if it doesn't, the Reapers are still coming, Cerberus will try again to get us back, or it'll be something else. There's always something else." His frustrated expression relaxed, becoming a little sad. "Kolyat deserves to have some normalcy. He should be in school, flirting with girls; figuring out what he wants to do with his life. But I don't know how to give it to him without breaking my promise."

Miranda took another step forward and, hesitating, sat down on the edge of the couch. "I once promised myself that I would never get involved in Oriana's life. I would see to it from afar that she was safe and taken care of, but that was it." The strong lines of her face softened with a smile. "Then you came along and convinced me that letting her know that I cared about her wasn't a necessarily a bad thing. Now we actually talk and I wouldn't give it up for anything." Her hands clasped together in her lap. "You'll find a way."

"I hope so."

Silence descended. The characters on the screen traded quips, but neither Miranda nor Shepard laughed.

"Koen—" Miranda started, biting her bottom lip. "I owe you an apology. I… I was blindly jealous… I said some things that I shouldn't have. I didn't want things to end so badly between us. I hope we can still be friends?"

Shepard leaned forward, capturing Miranda's hands between his own. She made as if to move away, but he held on tighter.

"Miranda, Ashley and I never kissed—we barely touched, if you can count passing the salt over the mess table touching. Maybe we might have had something if not for Virmire, but I'll never know that." He paused, trying to weigh her reaction to his words. "I'm not going to waste my life regretting what might have been when I have you, here, now."

"Koen…"

"You aren't a replacement for Ashley, Miranda, because you're you, and you are who I want."

She looked up at him, tears sparkling on her eyelashes. Sniffing, she brushed them away, and squeezed his hands. "Maybe… maybe we moved things too fast before. We were both in over our heads before we knew what was happening. Perhaps we can… start over?"

Shepard grinned. "Sounds good to me."

Miranda scooted closer to him on the couch, gesturing to the screen. "Can you rewind that last part? I want to watch from the beginning."

Shepard looped an arm around her shoulder, feeling her warmth as she tucked herself in next to his body, and settled down to enjoy the show.

Omega smelled the same as it had the last time Shepard arrived at the station. Same rotted garbage mixed with urine and the sweat of different species—the smell of the streets. Shepard shrugged his shoulders, as if to roll off the old memories that clamored in his mind, begging for attention, and strode through the docking bay.

"An asari justicar shouldn't be too hard to find," Garrus observed as they approached the doors to the main area of the station. "I imagine she's made quite a few enemies."

"Probably," Shepard agreed. "With any luck, however, we won't have to rescue her."

Garrus' mandibles flared in amusement. "Unlikely. She's not dumb enough to get herself cornered by three different merc groups."

They needn't have worried. Almost as soon as Garrus and Shepard left the grimy docking bay, they heard people on the streets whispering of her:

"... whole nest of vorcha—gone! She just plowed through them like a quarian at a used shipyard!"

"... public challenge to the Blood Pack. Is she crazy?"

"Aria's not too happy..."

Garrus chuckled. "Guess we just follow the carnage."

Shepard's lips quirked. "Sounds like we unleashed a bit of a troublemaker."

They found the "troublemaker" in the slums near Mordin's old clinic. Various passersby had told them they'd heard rumors of a beautiful asari traveling through the area, dispatching stray vorcha and any Blood Pack merc that got in her way.

Garrus and Shepard caught up with her at the clinic itself. She stood just inside, speaking with Daniel—Mordin's assistant left in charge of the clinic.

"Samara."

The justicar turned, blinking her large blue eyes at the sight of them, but otherwise did not seem surprised.

"Shepard, Officer Vakarian—it is a pleasure to see you again."

"I hear you're cleaning house around here," Shepard said with a grin.

Samara inclined her head. "The Blood Pack was severely weakened by your recent trip through here. I thought it a good place to start, though eventually I will work my way to the festering heart of corruption in this foul place. Aria T'Loak has much to answer for."

"Samara, I didn't just come here to check up on you," Shepard said, sobering. "I need your help. The Citadel Council has learned of your assistance on my mission to destroy the Collector base. If you will be present as a witness in your capacity as a justicar, Councilor Tevos has agreed to join our minds to ascertain the truth of the Reaper threat."

Shepard held his breath, wondering if the justicar's strict adherence to her code would allow her to leave such blatant criminality as there existed on Omega.

Samara's serene face broke into a smile. "Technically, you never released me from my oath to aid you, Shepard. I believe that was the condition of my service, yes?"

Shepard nodded, relieved. "Thank you. Hopefully it won't take long and you can come back to finish your clean up."

"What, no fighting? No hurricane of bullets? No shooting our way out?" Garrus said, shaking his head. "Shepard, you're getting soft."

"Yeah, yeah, keep talking Garrus, and I'll start shooting in the region of your head."

"That's more like it."

"I'm glad you're here, Shepard." Kaidan stepped forward to shake his hand as Shepard and Samara walked out of the airlock on the Citadel. "Anderson and Udina had kittens when they found out you were here a few days ago and didn't come around."

Shepard shook his head. "Long story. Sorry I'm late. Kaidan, this is Justicar Samara. Samara, this is Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko."

"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am," Kaidan said politely, inclining his head. "Shepard has spoken highly of you."

Samara gazed at him a moment, measuring his worth. Kaidan, to his credit, didn't shift under the pressure of her stare.

"A pleasure, Commander," she finally said. "I am pleased that my presence will further the cause to fight the Reapers."

Kaidan had a cab waiting. Shepard ducked down to get inside when he heard his name. Turning, he saw Captain Bailey trot toward him, a scowl on his face.

"Shepard?" Kaidan leaned over from his seat, eyebrows raised.

"Just a minute." Shepard nodded at Bailey as he came up. "Bailey, I just got to the Citadel—"

"I know, that's why I'm here," huffed Bailey, breathing a little hard. "Kolyat's in trouble."

"What?"

Bailey scowled. "Shepard, I've stuck my neck out for this kid, but if he doesn't shape up—"

"Give him a break, Bailey," Shepard interjected, frowning. "The kid's father just died."

Bailey's eyes narrowed. "Whaddya mean? He looked plenty healthy last time I saw him."

"He's been sick for a long time, even before I met him. It finally caught up with him."

Bailey sighed and ran a hand over his grizzled face. "And I just had to give the kid a piece of my mind…. Ah, hell."

Shepard shook his head. "I should have told you when I dropped him off. So what happened anyway?"

"Kolyat and Mouse got into a scrap in front of the ramen stand. Some customers' bowls were knocked to the ground in the scuffle. Disorderly conduct is the most I can charge them with, but I'd rather not." Bailey rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Shepard, I'm willing to cut the kid some slack and let him stay on if he's got no other family to take him in. He's a good kid at heart—some real talent with the tech stuff. I'd hate for him to be abandoned somewhere in this galaxy."

"He won't be," Shepard said, crossing his arms. "He has me. I promised his father I would look after him."

Bailey looked relieved. "Good to know. I guess you'll be wanting to talk to the little miscreants, eh?"

"Yeah." Shepard looked back into the cab where Kaidan was starting to look impatient. "Kaidan, I'll meet you at the embassy. This won't take long."

"Shepard, this is important—"

"I know, Kaidan, but so is this." He shut the cab door and stepped aside as it whirred into the air and soon got lost in the stream of traffic.

"Funny thing," Bailey said as he and Shepard approached the Customs desk. "I've seen more drell since I met you then in all the years I've been at C-Sec."

Shepard froze as something started to whir into place in his brain.

"Drell besides Kolyat and Thane?"

"Yeah," Bailey looked at him, eyebrow quirked. "Not even an hour ago, some yellow dame—at least I think it was a dame—Hey!"

Shepard set off running to the door. He was an idiot. It made sense now. Thane's memory: he'd said it was a "warning." Asaera everywhere he was on Kahje. The hacking attempt—she wasn't Cerberus—she wasn't even after Shepard; she was after Kolyat. Thane's memory... he'd nearly forgotten in the powerful emotions it evoked, but the hanar—Dances with Waves, or something—had been one of Thane's contract holders. He or she—it was hard to tell with hanar—had assumed that Kolyat would be given over to receive the same training that Thane himself had gone through. Asaera must be another assassin—or at least a servant bent on retrieving Kolyat for the hanar. They had not touched Kolyat while Thane still lived, but clearly once the drell had died, they considered his son fair game.

Shepard all but ran up to the turian guard at the security check point. "Open the door!"

The guard's mandibles pulsed, and he looked over Shepard's shoulder at Bailey coming up behind. "Uh, sir?"

"What's going on, Shepard?" Bailey growled.

"Someone's after Kolyat," Shepard grunted, running a hand through his hair. "I'm an idiot—I just realized..." He shook his head. It was too much to explain.

"Open 'er up, " Bailey ordered. The turian fiddled with his controls and the door opened... to a scene of complete calm. No one was shouting, officers sat quietly at their desks; everything seemed to be in order.

"Where are they?" Shepard turned to Bailey, voice taut. The C-Sec captain nodded at a human behind what looked like a monitoring desk to the left, in front of the door to the holding cells.

"Chang!" Bailey barked. The officer nearly fell off his chair, a magazine tumbling from his lap to the floor.

"Y-yes, sir!"

"The kids that Sawyer brought in from the fight—Mouse and the drell. They still in Room 2?"

"Yeah..." The officer's eyes scanned the monitors in front of him and his jaw dropped. "Oh shi—where'd he go?"

Shepard gripped the edge of the desk, Thane's gravelly voice ringing in his ears as if it was yesterday: "You'd think Citadel Security would be the tightest in the galaxy. I see no fewer than fourteen fatal flaws a skilled assassin could exploit."

Bailey shot the young officer a look that would have melted stone, and he and Shepard hurried into the interrogation rooms. Room 2 had a table and a couple of chairs. One chair had a pair of empty handcuffs. The other…

"Ow…" Mouse groaned as Shepard and Bailey grabbed his arms, helping him up from the floor. The side of his head was red and swelling.

"Mouse, you'd better start talking," Bailey said, a hard glint in his eyes, "or I might just remember that little incident with the red sand last month."

Mouse winced, going white around his mouth, and squeezed his eyes shut. "We were just sitting here—me an' the Krios kid," he said after a moment, brow furrowed with pain. "I heard someone jump down behind me; they put a muzzle to my head. Whoever it was told Krios to go with them and he did. Next thing I know, you show up." Mouse leaned over the table, looking ill. "I had nothin' to do with it, pops."

Shepard looked up. An air duct—too small for a grown human male, but accessible for a slim, wiry drell—was right over Mouse's chair. "Did you get a good look at whoever put the gun to your head?"

"No. Kept behind me, like I said, and I didn't dare move with that steel pressing against my skull."

Bailey followed Shepard's gaze and cursed. "I knew about that duct, but there's a fan about ten yards in—never thought it would be an issue."

"We heard the fan stop," Mouse offered, squinting against the light in the room. "We noticed cause it started gettin' hot. Smelled funny too, like a sweaty elcor."

"Bailey, do you have any idea where this duct leads out?"

Mouse answered again. "Yeah. Duct rats know to stay away from it, but we still know."

"Where?"

"The warehouse on Level 27." Mouse shuddered, looking like he might be sick on the table. "Lot of shady deals go on there. I ain't never been there—dangerous…"

"Chang," Bailey spoke into the comm, "get in here with the medic. Shepard and I have to go."