Lt. Sato came hurrying down the steps with Dr. Kramer in tow. "Browne!"

D'Angelo Browne sat on the floor, leaning against the bulkhead. Bloodstains on the floor indicated he'd spent time lying there before getting up. His clothes were saturated with blood, and while he was obviously in pain, he was not kicking and screaming with it.

He'd always had admirable mental fortitude.

"Just a painkiller, Doctor," he said quietly, before turning his gaze to Sato. "Things have gone very badly, Miss Sato."

Sato knelt by his side, touched his neck with the back of her hand. He was cold, clammy—probably shock.

"I can fix this," Dr. Kramer said simply, setting down his so-called black bag.

"No. You can't. Just a painkiller, please, or I refuse all medical assistance."

Sato opened her mouth. "Wh-what's going on here? How did Jack…"

D'Angelo gave a wry laugh, followed by a wince—and the application of painkillers by Dr. Kramer. "Wasn't Jack, Miss Sato."

Sato opened her mouth. "Commander Rogers? She'd never…"

"Not unless someone interrupted her plans. How's Tonya? I heard her screaming."

"Trey's dead. Jack flipped out. Finally." Sato set her teeth. She had not liked Jack's presence on the ship.

"Of course she did: Rogers was sending her back to Cerberus," d'Angelo shivered, no longer noticing Dr. Kramer and his surreptitious attempts to treat the gunshot.

Sato suddenly understood several things, among them that whatever Rogers had shot d'Angelo with, it was meant to bring down someone like Jack in one shot. "It's not standard ammunition, Doctor."

Dr. Kramer's 'hmph' indicated he already knew this.

"I wasn't going to let her be a lab rat twice. I tried to…" d'Angelo's words slowed, then stopped, his pink eyes looking at something past Sato's shoulder. She glanced at Dr. Kramer who, lips pursed, shook his head slowly. With that, he picked up his bag and strode up the stairs.

Sato watched him go. Dr. Kramer had been with Rogers a long time. Like most of the crew, he owed Rogers his current career. Not many people wanted a physician with several counts of malpractice against him.

If it was malpractice. No, if d'Angelo had betrayed Rogers, Dr. Kramer would wait until Rogers gave the word for treatment.

D'Angelo must have known that when he said 'painkillers only.'

Sato's brow furrowed as she knelt there, caught between staying with her crewmate and following Dr. Kramer's lead. A cold discomfort crept into her stomach: this was not a conversation she wanted to have! It…shook the foundations of the world as she understood it.

"Is he gone?" d'Angelo asked softly, lucidity coming back to his clouding eyes.

"Yes." Sato bit her lip. It had never occurred to her what might happen if someone in the crew actually turned on Rogers. Why should they? Why would they want to? "D'Angelo…why? She's not even one of us…" She'd never liked Jack: the biotic was a walking mistake. The best thing for everyone would have been to put her down like a rabid varren.

-J-

"Perhaps not…but you are. And it is my belief that…you're next to be donated to Rogers' cause…or Cerberus', though I imagine they're about the same right now. Whether you volunteer or not." It was a blatant lie, but d'Angelo found it justified. He had failed in both his plans, so he needed to recalculate…and his time was limited. His feet were so cold…

"Me?!" Sato's eyes grew wide, disbelieving.

It wasn't hard to conjure a wry chuckle. "You're a technological genius, Miss Sato. Don't you think you could be some sort of template for an army of technological geniuses?"

"I could t-train them, of course…"

"Takes too long."

"D'Angelo? D'Angelo!" she shook him, shook him out of his apparent slip out of consciousness.

"Sato, I couldn't save Jack…but you're here, and she isn't." Sato didn't need telling who 'she' was. "I've never lied to you before…why should I start now?" He was telling all sorts of lies today, but his longstanding practice of unvarnished truthfulness worked for him now.

Now, when it counted most.

"Wh-what do I need to do?" Everyone could be made to cave in when faced with the right appeal to self-preservation. Especially when everyone on this ship knew Rogers was crazy—but a crazy woman who took care of her staff. An opportunist guards her resources…

…until it becomes more beneficial to parcel them off and sell them out. Sato knew it, and d'Angelo knew she knew it.

"Hack Rogers' omnitool. Find out where she keeps the records…of her Cerberus conversations. Her insurance policy."

Sato worked in fevered silence for a few minutes—more minutes than d'Angelo would have liked. He feared he would die before she found them. He could feel the press of death creeping up on him. "When you have them, you have to…"

"I have them…" Sato played the last logged message, biting her lip.

"That's good. I need to…talk to Arcturus first. Record that. Then play that message. Then play the recording and the message both until someone does something. They need to know…and you need to…to get out. Don't wait for me to pass. I'm…fine…"

"Okay…I hacked into their main communications…whenever you're ready." Sato cued the transmission.

D'Angelo took a deep breath, pulling together the words he wanted to use. They had to be right…they were his last.

They had to be right. If they weren't…if they weren't, Rogers could counter them, paint him as the enemy, the traitor.

Who was he? Where was he? They needed to know. "This is d'Angelo Browne…SSV Victoria." Why was he calling? "This…is a Cerberus vessel…under the command of Commander Eva Rogers." And what was most important? The most important thing? "The girl you have…must be kept…safe." He nodded at Sato to run the playback, listened to the poisonous, unforgivable treachery.

He didn't feel Sato touch his ankle when the playback ceased and she cued the message to repeat itself.

He didn't hear her tell him goodbye.