DISCLAIMER: Mass Effect video game is the property of its respective owners and the author has no financial gain from it. Original Characters and story concept are mine though.

A/N: Happy New Year 2015 - hopefully it is better than the previous one and worse than the next one! Sorry for the longer than usual wait, but you know, holiday. :)

Here is the first part of Chapter 10 for your enjoyment. We're back from the mission and unfortunately things are not looking that bright. This part is about 6k words long. Hope you enjoy it!

My beta is still the one and the only Redentor

Chapter 10 – Let The Hammer Fall

They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country. But in modern war there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason.

Ernest Hemingway

There are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal, kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.

Terry Pratchett

Aboard 'Coronado'

In transit between the Crescent Nebula and the Hourglass Nebula mass relays

Earth Year: 2172

Our journey home was much less triumphant than I expected it to be. There had been a lapse in proper judgement, and I was practically beside myself with fury. The anger was especially potent, because I was the one at fault. I sat at the table in the mess smoking my second cigarette that evening and cursing my own stupidity. Our mission seemed to have gone off without a hitch and it looked like I had everything under control and going the way I wanted it to. That was until my artificial intelligence XO dropped the bomb.

Imagine what – it turns out that I did kick Balak a bit too hard after all. In fact, my strike was strong enough to put him in a bloody coma! Lox placed the unconscious batarian in our med-bay and run some scans on his body, but so far he could give us no estimation of when, or even if, he would wake up. Neither could he determine whether I'd caused any permanent brain damage, because batarian physiology was in many ways different from a humans. Sure, we had access to the extranet and even the batarian databases, but it still took time to process and apply that knowledge. The time we were wasting now, trying to fix up my fucking mistakes was the same time that could be used in making inroads in bringing down the Hegemony's dictatorship instead.

'Good going, Dubois. You had one job and you blew it,' I berated myself, taking a small sip of the whiskey bottle that I bought on Citadel when I was there. I had to burn my cash on something and in the absence of any other personal expenses alcohol, at the time, seemed as good an option as any. Also, it seemed like the alarm caused during our infiltration of the Aratoht Gamma base was my fault too. I didn't take into consideration that the scanning device at the gate also measured the weight of the vehicle. They calculated it as we passed and even after taking the driver into account it turned out that our transporter was way too heavy – my own weight and the weight of the armour I was wearing added up to a hundred kilos, which caused the guards to investigate. I was angry at myself for not thinking about it at the time.

I barely raised my head when I heard the door open. Still my hand went for my non-existent pistol of its own volition. I wasn't stupid enough to pack heat when I was drinking alcohol. It's like drinking and driving – you just don't fucking do it.

It was Corporal Tabitha Rakehal. She entered the mess and sat down at the table across from me. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, lips pursed in disappointment. I found myself checking her out as well.

She wasn't a classic beauty and you wouldn't look at her twice on the street. Her skin had an olive tint and while she was attractive in her own way I preferred not to regard her in that light, since she was my subordinate. Like with most of the humans in the Mass Effect galaxy there was some visible gene tweaking here and there, but compared to the likes of Miranda Lawson she was as natural as they come. Her only distinctive quality, apart from her darkish red hair, were the piercing black eyes. These eyes looked at me now with a disappointment and a hint of pity. Unsurprisingly she broke the tense silence first.

"How long are you going to hide here, el-tee?" Her tone of voice was sharp and assertive.

"I'm not hiding, corporal," I drawled, refusing to look her in the eye and focusing at the whiskey bottle instead. I reflected that it was the first time in my life that I could afford to purchase a proper Blue Label on a whim…

My musings were cut short by Tabitha's sharp tone, before I could drift off into my own little world.

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Dubois, get off your ass and get your shit together. That batarian twit going into coma is hardly the end of the world yet."

I snorted.

"Why is it when your subordinates say 'with all due respect' they mean everything but that?"

With practiced ease she ignored my witty quip and said, "For what's it worth our raid gave us some valuable insight into the abilities of Batarian elite troops. I'm sure that we can use this information in the long run, sir."

I looked at her sharply and my raised tone of voice brooked no argument.

"That is a fantastic way to look at recent events. Clearly, circumstantial data regarding troop training utterly eclipses the fact that we might not be able to complete the primary objective. When I want your input on the overall strategic planning I will bloody ask for it, corporal!"

To her credit, Corporal Rakehal was not at all fazed by my outburst. She responded pointedly

"I think I know what's eating you, el-tee, because I know your type very well. You're just like my husband. You got pissed off because the world refused to fit into your nice, clean timetable and when it wouldn't budge you threw a temper tantrum like an offended Queen of Omega."

To be completely honest, I don't think that Aria T'Loak would ever throw a temper tantrum; she was the type to get dangerous instead. But Tabitha was still talking, her voice scolding me like an unruly child.

"A newsflash, el-tee – nothing ever goes according to the plan! I would have assumed that someone who works for Alliance black ops would know that, but I guess I was wrong."

"I don't have to explain myself to you…" I started, but she interrupted me, ignoring all established military conventions on speaking with a superior officer.

"No you don't need to explain, el-tee, but you still need to maintain the chain of command. Your men need to know that they can count on you to keep a level head in any situation. The people you lead need to know that they can fall back onto you when things go wrong. Do you know what kind of message your current behaviour send to your subordinates? Let me tell you – that you are weak and that the smallest mistake on our side will be fatal, because you just can't handle the pressure. That you turn to alcohol and drugs to cover your personal shortcomings."

The last sentence she finished quietly, her eyes squinting as if it reminded her of something more personal. If I were Shepard I would have vowed to investigate it, but I wasn't. If she ever wanted to talk to me about it, she would tell me in her own time. Not that I gave her the best impression as a commander right now. I think it might have been that small sliver of frailty that I saw behind that fierce exterior that prevented me from chewing her out. As it was, that combined with the fact that she was hitting a little close to home with her remarks, was staying my anger.

"Garem doesn't seem to mind…" I defended myself weakly.

"Rod'barr is an individualistic puke, who doesn't know a thing about discipline or leading other people," She snapped at me, her temper flaring up again.

I saw her in a new light right now. Intellectually, I was aware that she held the rank of corporal and that it brought certain responsibilities with it. But I did not expect her to actually have the gall to lecture me on leadership. It was… positively inspiring.

She shook her head at me, her eyes blazing with emotions.

"You did well in the field, el-tee – a blind man could see that. But your current meltdown is simply unbecoming, sir," She put a strong emphasis on the honorific to drive the point home.

With that, she stood up and saluted me respectfully, acknowledging my rank. I stood up as well and returned the salute.

"Thank you corporal," I gave her a small nod, hoping to convey my gratitude at her timely intervention. It was true that she spoke out of line, but she did it in private and well… I needed that talk.

She responded with a thin smile and made to leave our small mess hall. But before she could, I called her back. "Corporal, while I fully appreciate the advice you've just given me and the spirit in which it was offered, I'm ordering you never to talk that way about WO Rod'barr in front of me again. Regardless of his personal proclivities, he is still a superior officer. Am I understood?"

She pursed her lips once again, but I think she understood that her previous points upon leadership and the respect thereof would be completely invalidated if she herself couldn't follow doctrine. I also think that the fact I was finally doing the job of an officer helped her accept the order in good grace. She saluted, and left silently.

I admit – she gave me something to think about.

But Tabitha was right. I wasn't some emotional idiot. I was a Security Branch officer for God's sake! Gnashing my teeth at the unfairness of it all and getting drunk was all good and dandy when done in my own time, but I was on the job now. I still had the reports to prepare and mission debriefings to do. I'd already skipped on these responsibilities for the last day or so and I just couldn't put it off anymore. My petty and selfish side wanted to blame everything else for the partial failure of the mission, but the facts were hard to dispute. It was my poor handling of Balak that might just have cost us a vital war asset in our campaign against the Batarian Hegemony.

But the war wouldn't wait for me and I had to pull my weight still. Sure, Balak's incapacitation put a bump on our way, but as Corporal Rakehal has pointed out – it was not the end of the world. As oft quoted by the Security Branch, LeRoy Vatell said, 'No matter how bad it gets, there is always one more thing you can do.' I would hope for the best where it concerned our batarian prisoner, but I still had a lot of work to do. Just because my batarian Fidel Castro in training was indisposed for now it didn't mean that I couldn't make the Hegemony bleed in the meantime. If we started a campaign of terror against the Hegemony's military and infrastructure we would greatly destabilize their power base. If the batarians saw that their government was slow to respond to threats and then unable to find the culprits, they will lose their fear of the administration. It was true to some extent that the glue that held the Batarian Hegemony together was the traditional xenophobia of the batarians. But a much more important factor was their rabid fear of the violent repercussions against the dissidents and of the legendary brutality of the Batarian Internal Police Force. Take that away and not even the batarians apathy at their government would stop them from rising against the Hegemony, especially if I provide them with the right tools to do that and an ideology to rally behind.

I found myself rather blasé about the whole idea of organizing an insurrection and possibly a very bloody civil war. Yes, the possible repercussions would be huge, and casualties were more than guaranteed, but the other option was to do nothing – and it was nothing short of criminal since I knew the outcome.

Finally putting down the barely touched bottle of whiskey I stood up and headed for my quarters to wash, shave and change. It took me half an hour to refresh and make myself somewhat presentable. Foregoing the regular jumpsuit, I decided to put on the uniform that I received from the Blue Suns. I hadn't had a chance to wear it yet, choosing to wear the civilian clothes instead. But Tabitha was right – I had to make the right impression and restore some of their faith in my command.

I'd barely spoken to anyone since our mission was adjourned, but I had no more time for moping about and wallowing in self-pity. Shit doesn't always go your way and sometimes you just have to take it in your stride.

After putting on the uniform and making sure that everything was in place I left my room. I walked swiftly through the corridors of my ship and opened the door to the command room. With a confident stride I entered the bridge of our small corvette. Garem, Tabitha and Lox looked at me and I acknowledged them with a simple nod. I walked to the captain's seat and sat down looking around.

"Warrant Officer," I barked at Garem. "How long until we reach the Hourglass Nebula?"

My batarian navigator blinked for a moment, but he responded without a hesitation.

"Six days, el-tee."

"Make it five." I ordered, knowing full well that we were running at a rather economic speed so far. The 'Coronado' could do way better than that.

"Yes, sir," He responded obediently and focused on his console.

I turned to Lox whose blue silhouette was visible standing next to one of the computers. He tilted his head in a questioning manner.

"Lox, I want you to revive Balak ASAP. Clone him if you must. I don't care what it takes; I need him alive and talking."

I almost said to bring in the Interactive Dislocation Department, but it wouldn't do in the present company. The artificial man simply nodded and said.

"At once, lieutenant Dubois." It was the moments like these that made me cherish his military programming. Lox was always laconic and straight to the point.

Finally, I turned to Corporal Rakehal, who sat at her usual place at the communications console. At the mention of cloning, her face had slipped a few traces of surprise, and perhaps even anger. But she brought it under control quickly.

"Corporal, use my personal network link to contact to Mr. Massani or Mr. Dal'Serah and request a full report on the status of the shipyards on Acheron. I was made aware that we have already invested more than three million credits into this endeavour and I want to confirm that there have actually been results."

"Roger that, lieutenant," She acknowledged my order with a barely visible smile.

Yes, ordering people around definitely had its merits. I took out my holo-tablet and opened its writing app to get started on my mission report, which would be submitted to the Security Branch. I sighed quietly as I started to write:

'Mission Code: 'Thin Ice'

Mission Type: False flag infiltration of a secure military facility

Place of Deployment: Aratoht Gamma military facility; planet Aratoht; Bahak System; Viper Nebula

Mission Target: Acquisition of Commander Ka'hairal Balak of the Batarian External Forces – further referred to as Target Charlie

Rules of Engagement: Maintain cover until extraction. In the event of discovery, enable option 'Flaming Arrow' – read more below.

At zero nine hundred hours we deployed onto the planet surface with an acquired enemy vehicle and a single drone overwatch. The designated driver for the vehicle was the local asset, one [Garem Rod'barr; Warrant Officer; Blue Suns PMC – further referred to as Delta 2], while I [Peter Dubois; Lieutenant; 213thInfiltration Brigade; External Affairs Bureau – further referred to as Delta 1] occupied the passenger compartment under a cloaking device. The transport was used to traverse enemy territory under a false flag operation with fabricated marching orders for Target Charlie…'

Now having some experience with the military procedures, I wrote the report in a concise manner, rewriting some of the more questionable parts and removing unnecessary details. That's how it was done in the Security Branch and I really took Galtieri's lessons on the reporting to heart:

"Don't write anything more than the absolutely vital info. We don't care about the colour of the flowers you saw on the way there. We don't want to read about your disgust with the enemy's head falling apart. Provide only the details that are mission critical, nothing else. Here you will always have enough paperwork to do Dubois – don't make it any more difficult for yourself or for the others."

I smiled as I remembered the Captain's pained face, as he explained to me this less than spectacular aspect of military service. It seemed like many practices were universal or rather multiversal, though. I learned that the Systems Alliance was almost as bad as the Confederacy and even the Blue Suns had to keep their paperwork in order if only to keep their employees paid on time. I still considered myself somewhat lucky, because when it comes to the written bureaucracy and convoluted practices, the Batarian Hegemony was in a category of its own. Now I had to make it all work for my benefit.

The Mass Effect galaxy was an advanced society, but it had its flaws too. One of them was the lack of real external and internal threats. Or rather – they had the enemies, but nobody was taking them seriously and it resulted in complacency. Normally it would be beneficial to any society, allowing it to focus on trade and production, but in this case it allowed the Geth, the Reapers and Cerberus to make huge inroads and deal heavy blows during the early stages of the war. That had to change and for that we needed more than just one Shepard trying to keep everything together.

On the other hand, if Shepard decided to join us I'd be more than glad to dump everything on his (or her) shoulders.

Acheron Shipbuilding Co. 'ARGO' facility

Planet Acheron (LV-426)

Hourglass Nebula

Earth Year: 2172

I entered the office confidently and looked around with a quiet whistle. The previously utilitarian metal furniture was replaced by much more elegant and streamlined synthetic designs. It seemed futuristic and functional and it was also rather expensive-looking, but not ostensibly so.

"Wow… that looks really cool, Massani. It seems like the cash we provide you with is truly money well spent," I said sardonically.

The mercenary looked up from the orange computer screen and looked at me with an amused expression.

"Shut it, Dubois. If I'm to be an Executive for the Blue Suns then my office will look the bloody part," He drawled.

"Perhaps for your birthday I should buy you an outfit like Jath'amon wears? I wonder how you would look in silk clothes," I continued the line of jibes, referring to the batarian ambassador's well-known fondness for expensive asari clothing.

"I'm strongly reconsidering breaking your neck for good measure, boy."

I raised my hands in defeat, not willing to tease the grumpy merc anymore. He was not the type to follow up on such idle threats – if Zaeed Massani ever wanted to kill you, he won't be giving you any warnings – but the joke is only funny if you take it so far.

"Alright, alright. By the way, Zaeed, you did a truly magnificent job here. We are still a long way from being ready to take on the enemy, but we are getting there faster than I anticipated."

Zaeed nodded with a completely straight face, but I could clearly see that he too was satisfied with the progress so far.

I admit that the more time I spent in his company, the more I grew to like the legendary veteran. I admired his military accomplishments just like virtually everybody else, but to my surprise it was the management work where Massani truly shined. You wouldn't expect that, but it was true. He had a much more hands-on approach in comparison to Vido Santiago, but he also had a clear vision of where he was taking the company. The late Vido was more of an opportunist – a very good one I'd give him that – but it was Zaeed's leadership that could and would take the Blue Suns to their true heights.

For me personally, seeing as I had been dealing on a daily basis with the Confederacy's bureaucratic hurdles, Zaeed's no-nonsense, direct approach was a welcome change. While I agreed on principle with the notion that we should trust in the institutions rather than the individuals, there were times when I wondered whether putting efficiency before bureaucracy was really such a bad idea. In some way I'd become a convert to the libertarian approach of outsourcing various aspects of running the country to the private sector. It really seemed to work, at least as far as the lawless Terminus was concerned.

On the way here I took my time to inspect the Argo, Bahak and Taetrus Fields shipyards and I was glad to see that all of them had expanded extensively, despite the limited time they had so far. All of them were consolidated into one large conglomerate – Acheron Shipbuilding Co., a subdivision of the Blue Suns PMC – their resources pooling together and their particular roles assigned. Bahak would provide the armaments and electronic systems, while Taetrus Fields would focus on the elements of armour and engines. Argo would put everything together in their newest dry-dock. The largest ships would be partially constructed in the planet's orbit and the materials delivered via a huge orbital lift, which was still under construction. Many of the solutions that the Blue Suns were going to utilize here (like the aforementioned elevator) were not unknown in the Galaxy, but they were rarely used nonetheless due to their expense. For the Blue Suns, who could draw on the Confederacy's resources, money was not an issue.

At first I was sceptical of the enthusiastic reports that I received from Zaeed, Das'Maral and Solem, suspecting that they had embellished their own accomplishments in an effort to extort more money from the Security Branch. I was soon proven wrong, seeing as the three de facto leaders of the Blue Suns with the help of their able lieutenants managed to do a total 180 degree turn when it came to the company's policy, in a very small span of time. While shipyards were being built and expanded, a respectably large small arms factory was established on Acheron. Currently they only produced the weaponry on the Haliat Armory license, but if things went well we would have plasma-coilguns rolling out in no time. Tarak swore that the new facility used all the newest and the best production equipment. If all of this could have been accomplished in a mere three months then in the future, the sky was literally the limit. The Blue Suns also actively recruited in the Citadel Space and anywhere else, their advertising putting a strong emphasis on bringing law and order to the erstwhile lawless territory. The benefits of such an approach had become apparent when the first batch of recruits, the new breed, left the Blue Suns training facilities and began deploying to their units. It did create some tension – new soldiers were driven more by the frontier spirit rather than their monetary needs and they were more ideological about their job than their predecessors. They clashed with the Blue Suns veterans, but the iron discipline of Zaeed's Boot Camp lived up to its hype. If all went well on that front, we could change the public perception of the Blue Suns to a significant degree – and we desperately needed to do so before the Reapers arrived. So while I spent my time arguing with the army of bureaucrats and lawyers for every credit, Zaeed and his people got things done. It did not matter to me in the long run though, as we were all working for the same goal, but it was still somewhat depressing.

"How long before we can get more of the Confederacy's technology?" asked Zaeed – as usual straight to the point.

I folded my hands in front of my face as I answered his question. It was a gesture that I'd picked up from learning about the batarian negotiators, which supposedly meant that we are going to bargain. Batarian culture put a strong emphasis on the non-verbal communication and gestures and I used every moment I had to practice it before I talk to Balak. If I even got the chance to talk to him.

"Until we can infiltrate the Batarian Hegemony and put our people in charge of it there won't be any technology transfers. I can't risk the technology getting into the hands of the Hegemony or some warlords in the Terminus or in the Attican Traverse before the time is right."

Zaeed shook his head at me with a snort.

"Stop speaking in riddles, Dubois. 'When the time is right' – what does that even mean? They will get their hands on your heaters one way or the other – and then they will reverse engineer it, whether you like it or not," Said the old mercenary impatiently.

Despite my best efforts when putting the data-transfer together, some information on the Confederacy's military technology was included, and Massani took an instant interest in it. I responded carefully.

"That's exactly what will happen, Zaeed. Once we have the Terminus under control and the Hegemony in at least cordial relations with the Citadel, I won't mind spreading the plasma-coilgun technology, because it will help us against the Reapers in the long run. But at the moment arming the batarians would be counterproductive, because they would use this technology to either settle their scores with the Systems Alliance or to raid the colonies for slaves. And I won't allow that."

"Then what are you going to do with the Hegemony?" He asked curiously.

I wondered for a moment how much I should tell him. Zaeed was an important ally and he was aware of the big picture. I still didn't feel comfortable with sharing the full plan with him, so I decided to remain vague for now.

"I plan on starting a revolution."

Zaeed Massani raised his eyebrows then snorted.

"Well I'll be buggered. You have it all figured out, don't you?" He laughed disparagingly. "Why not just walk up to the Hegemon himself and ask him for his job, eh?"

I frowned.

"I find it hard to determine whether you're joking or not."

"I'm not joking, laddie – just stating a fact."

"Trust me, I have a plan Zaeed. And what's with this whole 'laddie' business anyway? You keep calling me that and I know that you're not Scottish."

"It's because it suits you best, Dubois. You look like a brat and I wonder why of all people, they sent you to do this job."

Zaeed was ribbing me again, but I could sense his genuine curiosity on the subject at hand. I simply shrugged and answered.

"Probably because nobody will give a shit if I die," I said apathetically.

The old maverick grinned.

"Well, at least your boss is being honest about it." He pressed a button on the keyboard and the orange computer screen flickered and disappeared. Zaeed leaned my way and pointed his finger at me while scratching his chin, letting me know that my attempt at batarian non-verbal communication was not lost on him.

"So what's with your revolution, Dubois?" The gesture in question meant that he was cautiously interested. Oh heck, I had to get him on board anyway, because I needed the batarians that he had in his employment. I decided to give Zaeed some insight into my plan so far. In for a penny, in for a pound I guess.

"The Hegemony is corrupt, inefficient and brutal. Frankly, they are an abomination of a political system that is legitimized by the fear of their repression not by the will of its subjects. If I make the batarians lose faith in the capabilities of their government and give them an alternate ideology to rally behind, then I have a chance of creating a credible political force."

Zaeed looked at me, clearly amused by my speech.

"A true democrat, aren't you? I was right about you the first time – you should have joined the Alliance and be done with that."

It was my turn to smile as I massaged my wrist to signal my satisfaction with the current state of affairs.

"What I have in mind is not really a democracy, Zaeed. Are you familiar with the Bolshevik Revolution, by any chance?"

It took him a moment to remember the half-forgotten history lessons. Still, the horrible imprint that the Soviet Union and the dictate of the proletariat left on mankind made sure that Alliance citizens were still taught about it in school. After all, those who fail to learn from their history are doomed to repeat it.

"You mean like communism? Damn Dubois, what have the batarians ever done to you?"

I rolled my eyes at his reaction.

"I won't bring back Stalin's purges if that's what you're worried about; I'm not that depraved. I would rather try and recreate the socialist market economy of 21st century China. Batarians are already familiar with the one party state – they would be hopelessly lost in a democracy. Besides, a truly democratic system by definition would offer some protection to the people associated with the previous regime and would also provide them with political leverage – I don't want to allow that. I'd rather see the old slaveocracy broken than reformed. In addition, socialism has a catchy revolutionary and egalitarian rhetoric, which is perfect for people who have nothing to lose and everything to gain – like the slaves and the low-born batarians."

Zaeed still didn't seem too convinced of the merits of my argument but he opted for changing the topic.

"So what exactly is your plan, lieutenant?"

"My team and I will use batarian volunteers from the Blue Suns' ranks to carry out a series of terrorist attacks on vital elements of their military and industrial infrastructure. I plan on interrupting their weapons production and their transportation network as well as put their armed forces in a high alert status. At the same time I want to use our batarian assets to sow dissent among their population and raise their dissatisfaction with the current government."

Zaeed shook his head in exasperation.

"The batarians aren't as stupid as you think. They know that their government doesn't give a rat's ass about them and they don't care as long as they're left alone by the police. They won't follow you," He said dismissively.

"True," I agreed readily with a small nod. "The batarians want to be left alone and they know that the government is indifferent to their problems. But if they were made aware that their government is actively working to keep the 'little man' down they would be very angry indeed. I know I would be. And the batarians aren't as apathetic as you think they are, believe me Zaeed," I added, paraphrasing his previous statement, as I remembered the anti-government websites on the batarian extranet.

Massani tapped his fingers on the desk surface in thought. After a minute or so he nodded to himself and said, "Okay, let's assume for a moment that you're right. What makes you think that the batarians will accept some alien ideology, let alone fight for it?"

I waved my hand in a dismissive manner.

"I'm sure that I can spin the tale well enough to make them think that they figured it out for themselves. As for the fighting – the batarian higher castes live a life of decadent luxury while the lowborns toil day and night to put some food on their tables. If they do not care for the ideology, then simple greed and envy will do the trick."

Zaeed sighed and shrugged his shoulders, conceding the argument.

"It's your show, kid. Just remember to keep the money coming in and we'll have no problems on our side. By the way, have you figured it out all by yourself?"

"Of course not. I'm not that smart and I don't have the authority. The plan was created by the General Staff of the Brigade and it had to be approved by the Confederacy's government. I'm just here to carry out their orders. They give me a lot of freedom in the execution, but I'm held accountable for my actions."

I stood up and shook hands with Zaeed, not willing to bother him anymore. I knew that he had a lot of work on his hands and so did I. As I moved to the opened door his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Just be careful out there, son."

I looked back at the old mercenary in surprise and he added with an expression so serious that it actually gave me a pause.

"All I'm saying is that war is a very nasty business. It's very easy to stay so focused on your distant objective that you lose touch with the here and now, Dubois. Sometimes you might have to do stuff that isn't exactly gentleman-like to get things done. And remember that 'only following orders' will only take you so far in this galaxy, lieutenant."

He sighed and just for a moment looked very weary, as if his respectable age had finally caught up with him.

"I get it – you're young and you want to change the world. This 'freedom of action' that your superiors gave you sounds a bit too good to be true. Just remember that, and don't let anyone make you a political scapegoat, Dubois."

I respected Zaeed's experience and put his advice into consideration. I knew that Massani had been in this business long enough to see the worst types of manoeuvres being pulled off by politicians and soldiers alike, sometimes even falling for them, as it was with Vido Santiago. Alas, for the moment there was nothing that I could do, but I would tread carefully nonetheless.

"I know that Zaeed, but thanks anyway," I said, forcing a carefree smile to my face.

With a quick nod I left his office letting the automatic door close behind me.

As I walked through the freshly renovated corridor I noticed a couple of Blue Suns mercenaries in their work clothes pulling the wall apart. They were busy replacing the old fiber optic cables with the new ones that had been delivered the week before. I was adamant with the Blue Suns management that the new shipbuilding facilities had to be the absolute top notch in any given aspect. This was to be the main hub for my future military-industrial complex and I wouldn't risk putting a cramp on our future production because someone decided to save money on the vital equipment.

I was greeted with polite nods from the mercs as I passed them by, but they never stopped their work even to salute me. I made it clear on the very first day that I had been to the facility: discipline is very important both in a PMC and in the regular military alike, but I throw it out of the window the moment it stopped any of my subordinates from giving a hundred percent. I valued efficiency and the productivity above all and I had to give credit where it was due – the Blue Suns were as ruthless and greedy as any, but only a total moron would call them incompetent.

I heard my omni-tool beep twice signalling an incoming message. I checked it out swiftly and smiled – it was from Lox. It seemed like he finally managed to wake up Commander Ka'hairal Balak. I felt the weight of the world being taken off of my shoulders, thanking whatever lucky stars that watched over me for this grace. Saved by the bell, eh?

Without any further delay I left the building and had one of the Blue Suns drive me to the train station. The maglev train, which was used for transporting goods between the three facilities, would then take me to the Taetrus Fields facility where we kept our prisoner.

A/N: So there it is, first part of the Chapter 10. I hope it was worth the waiting time! Stay tuned for more.

Have a good one!

RosoMC