CHAPTER 33

Vega was all for storming the Arena right there and then. Vega, Alenko, Rosemary, Balint, EDI, and Garrus were sharing a large-sized skycar to Bridgeton from Wakey Brews; Chakwas and Yadai had gone in an emergency transport ahead of them. Rosemary had messaged Meeno to alert him of their arrival and to get the clinic prepped.

Vega was furious; when he had first seen Yadai's condition. He hadn't flown off the handle, like Rosemary had very much expected him to, but... it had been close. His body had been in control, but his voice was full of boiling rage, "What are we waiting for, man," He gritted out to Alenko. "Let's go get this bitch – right – now."

Alenko shook his head, his jaw set. He was seething, too, but as always, he tempered his rage with reason. "One – we need more evidence to satisfy the Council."

Vega wouldn't accept that. "Nah, man – you think I give a damn about them?! Did you see Yadai?"

"Two! Most of us have fought in the Arena – the place is huge. We're talking a top-tier armory – countless soldiers."

The Normandy's captain hesitated. Rosemary sympathized; Alenko had a valid point there. "And three," she asked Alenko, giving him her full attention.

"And three," Alenko finished, ", the Arena's one of the hottest spots on the Strip. We're talking civilians – how do we get them out of the way with alerting T'Garu to our presence?"

Vega crossed his arms. "Shit," he growled. ", the hell we do we do, then?"

It was a problem. Rosemary looked at the vintage clock on the wall, unseeing – thinking. "So the Arena is Divide headquarters," she thought aloud. "Saeli's smart, though. She's not the type to put all her eggs in one basket."

Garrus frowned. "Eggs?"

EDI cocked her head. "Basket?"

Vega, Alenko, and Rosemary waved their hands. "It's a human saying," Alenko explained. "So what are you saying, Rosemary?"

"I'm saying... Nuni was right. Divide is a hate group at its core... but they branched out to becoming one of the Citadel's top gangs."

Vega shrugged. They all knew this. "So?"

Balint was driving the skycar, but she asked him, "Balint, can you pull over? I need a map of the claimed gang territories."

The C-Sec officer pulled the skycar over just below the first Crucible level and sent Rosemary the file. She brought up the holographic map and projected it on the floor of the skycar. She pointed out the areas of the Citadel shaded in opaque white. "Look. Their territories are scattered – you can't control so many areas from one place."

Vega narrowed his eyes. "You mean..."

"Divide has to have... what do you call them..."

"Outposts," Garrus supplied.

"Right." Rosemary nodded.

"Yeah, so?"

"Attack those outposts – spread Divide forces thin over all of their territories. It'll leave the Arena vulnerable."

Balint shook his head. He'd kept silent until now. "That's a common military tactic; she'll expect something like that."

"No," Rosemary shook her head. "I don't mean attack the outposts with straight-up force. That would be too obvious. I'm talking sabotage – or in this case, maintenance problems. Fluctuating power outages, street construction, infestations... Make them look natural: accidents. Only... apply those 'attacks' over several weeks' time, to divert suspicion."

Vega still looked skeptical. "How would that spread the Divide force thin?"
"It's won't – but it'd make the outposts vulnerable." Rosemary shifted in her seat. "And should the gangs of the Divide's neighboring territories hear of such vulnerabilities..."

Alenko grinned. "That's... brilliant!"

Rosemary looked up from the map. Everyone was grinning.

"You are devious," Balint said proudly, grinning as he turned back around and returned to driving the skycar.

When the skycar lurched back into movement, Rosemary steadied and re-shifted herself in her seat. Vega shook his head. "And here we thought you were just an extra-efficient secretary/barista."

"Yeah, where'd you learn to think like this," Alenko asked her curiously.

Rosemary blushed. "I read. A lot."

Balint nodded from the driver's seat. "She does – she reads a lot of books. Actual books. With paper."

Everyone looked stunned. Vega was astonished. "Hey, I love to read, too – but paper? Who reads on paper?"

Rosemary scowled. "There's nothing wrong with it – just because it's old..."

"Not old, ancient," Vega argued. "It's like wiping your ass with leaves, Rosemary. You're so damn weird."

"Shut up."

XOXOXOXO

Their plan would take time. In the meantime... Rosemary had administrative workings to mull over – for Wakey Brews, C-Sec, and Bridgeton. She was busy.

Nuni had finally managed to get a system working; Rosemary could now operate mostly from the comfort of her Wakey Brews office. A week had passed, and Rosemary was going over the data sent over from the new C-Sec clerics while Oliver hung out with CARD and Keeya in Wakey Brews' play area.

Rosemary glanced over through her window at them talking and playing for what had to be at least the thirteenth time that hour. She couldn't quite believe how... toddler-like CARD's exterior shell was. He was plainly made out of the same material as EDI was, but his expressions... How the hell did EDI get them so... Joker?

CARD's face was a baby version of Joker's, down to the goofy, sarcastic line of his smile. Even the little android's micro-expressions were an exact replica of the Normandy pilot's. The result was... impressive, but just a little creepy.

She checked her omni-tool and quickly got up to get the kids drinks. Imitha and Ossuri were working out front; she couldn't expect them to keep tabs on the kids' hydration, too. She grabbed a couple of orange juices from her mini-fridge and walked out of her office.

"You should hang out with us at Bridgeton," Oliver told CARD, catching Rosemary's juice-toss. "The hybrid kids are a lot of fun. At first, though, it was kind of sad. A lot of them are scared, and a lot of them had parents that Divide killed."

Rosemary handed Keeya her juice and shook her head at her brother. "Ollie..."

Keeya's smile was sad, but understanding. "I am fine," she assured Rosemary.

"Still..."

Oliver's smile was also sad. "It's okay, Rosie. I know we're kids, but it's healthy to talk about the stuff that bothers you – just not in excess. You still have to focus on the positive."

Huh. Oliver, Keeya, and CARD returned to their play. Oliver was... impressive. Has he always been this mature? Then she saw him pull Keeya into her lap so he could read her a board book. "What's this," Keeya asked, touching the book with curious fingers.

"It's hard paper – I would read you a story from an omni-tool... You know, like everyone else does – but ROSIE won't get me one," Oliver said loudly, the last bit purely for Rosemary's ears.

Rosemary snorted. "Not until you're thirteen, shrimp."

"Hmph."

Rosemary smiled quietly. No, Oliver hadn't always been this way; she rather thought Keeya had something to do with it. Oliver was protective of Keeya, very much like an older sibling should be. They... really were a family now. And CARD was their quirky, outspoken cousin, she thinks with a quiet chuckle.

Rosemary's fingers ached; they went home after Oliver and Keeya had finished their juices. They had just settled into the living room couches when –

BEEP!

Rosemary stiffened at the sound of multiple guns buzzing to life. Almost a dozen C-Sec officers took their positions in view of the door and behind cover. Rosemary peeked around one of the stone columns to see Tross squint at the door terminal. "Who's there," he demanded, his voice gruff with suspicion.

Rosemary walked over so she could look over his shoulder despite several officers' grunts of protest. She could see why Tross was so on guard; all she could see through the terminal was... a pile of boxes?

"It's me – Imitha," a muffled voice answered from behind the boxes.

Tross relaxed, but only a fraction. "What's in those boxes?"

Rosemary grinned at the sound of Imitha's long-suffering sigh. "Honey and chocolate tartlets with asari honey, durrha and quinate fruit macarons, cream puffs – regular and dextro, Napoleons, kholab balls, croissants, and an opera cake. I was too lazy to make a dextro opera cake – really sorry about that –"

Tross ushered her in. The door had already been opened halfway into her recitation of the treats. Guns were holstered as everyone crowded around the sweet-laden turian. There was something for everyone in those boxes – krogan, turian, human... - Imitha was amazing. Rosemary grabbed the box holding the opera cake, salivating... Oliver and Keeya both grabbed croissants.

Rosemary placed the opera cake reverently on the coffee table.

"What's an opera cake," Balint asked, walking up. He handed Rosemary a knife, plate, and dessert spoon, and took another bite into a dextro-cream puff.

Rosemary gratefully accepted the silverware and plate. She liked that he had given her a spoon instead of a fork; the spoon was, by far, her favorite form of cutlery. She cut herself a slice and at the first taste, moaned. "It's sex in food form," she told Balint, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

Balint's mandibles flared with curiosity. "That good?"

Imitha came over and sat next to Rosemary. "Three layers of coffee syrup-soaked almond cake, with layers of chocolate ganache and espresso-flavored buttercream, and a chocolate glaze topping."

"Ah." Balint sighed. "Coffee... and cake. How can I compete with that?"

"You can't," Imitha said smugly.

"You could have at least made a dextro one," Balint grumbled as Imitha cut herself a slice.

Imitha took a bite and waved her spoon at the C-Sec officer. "We can eat human food now, remember?"

Balint self-control was wavering. "... It's tempting. It's just... it's hardwired into our brains to avoid the alien food, you know? We were highly allergic before; hard to get over that kind of thing."

"Get over it," Imitha said mercilessly. "I didn't let that stop me. Do you know how many culinary opportunities synthesization opened for me? It's been amazing."

"It's coffee," Rosemary teased between mouthfuls. Inwardly, she was smiling. Balint was a coffee convert if she'd ever seen one; he couldn't resist coffee any better than she could.

Balint gave in and allowed Imitha to cut him a slice. When he bit into it, his expression froze. Then he took another bite. Rosemary smiled as she ate the rest of her slice, understanding him completely. Reverent silence was the only appropriate accompaniment to this sheer... deliciousness. When Balint finished his second slice, he pushed his plate away.

Balint cleared his throat. "I have a thought, Rose."

"Hm?"

"This really is sex in food form."

Rosemary grinned. "I know, right?"

Imitha was beaming, but Balint wasn't done yet. "What do you say to saving a slice or two... to bring into the bedroom tonight?"

Rosemary's eyes widened and her skin flushed with excited expectation. "Coffee, cake, and sex? Could we? Oh, that would be..."

Imitha groaned, looking sick to her stomach. "Oh, gross!" She pushed away from the table, disgust written on every plate on her face. "Way to ruin my... Ugh! You guys!" She shuddered and retreated to the kitchen, hurrying to put distance between her and... them.

Smirking, Rosemary bumped fists with Balint. "We are good."

"Yes, we are."