Chapter Eight

"I knew it!" Khalisah stormed out of the front doors of the embassy, ignoring the questioning looks from the receptionist who knew she hadn't let them in, "I knew the Alliance was in trouble!" Jacana half skipped to keep up with her as they broke out into the street. Her pace continued to increase as she ranted and then, quite abruptly, she stopped.

Jacana sailed past her, caught off balance by the sudden change and wondered briefly if this was payback for the stunt she'd pulled when they first met. But as she stopped and turned she saw Khalisah wasn't even looking at her. Instead she was frowning irritably, both hands on her hips as she gazed up into the Presidium sky.

"Damn Commander Shepard," she muttered bitterly, "throwing all those ships at the geth, we were never going to come back from it easily."

Jacana glanced around at the passing crowd, who were completely oblivious to them both, and considered Khalisah quietly. There was genuine annoyance in her tone, her grudge against Shepard seemed to go far beyond being embarrassed in interviews.

"She did save the Council."

"The Council?" Khalisah looked at her sharply, emerald eyes gleaming with fire and Jacana had to resist taking a step back, "You think we're better off with the Council than half the Alliance fleet? Do you have any idea how many people – real-life people, as you said – died to save a handful of politicians who can't even be bothered to investigate these colony attacks?"

She hesitated, this was clearly something she was going to have to tread carefully around, at least until she could predict Khalisah better, "So what are you going to do now?"

She frowned and thought but never got the chance to say anything as she was distracted by something over Jacana's shoulder. As Jacana turned and followed her gaze, she saw two human men detach themselves from the moving crowd and head their way. There was intent in their eyes and as they reached beneath their jackets, Jacana didn't wait to see the guns she knew they were carrying.

"Get down!" she ran at Khalisah and pushed her to the ground behind a bench, the first bullet ricocheted off it and showered sparks over their heads as they crouched in cover. Instinctively, she grabbed the pistol concealed beneath her own jacket and returned fire. She hit one in the head, killing him instantly while the second rolled out of her line of sight behind a food kiosk.

By now the crowd were scattering, accompanied by screams and confusion as Jacana saw another two men coming from the other direction. She didn't know who they were or why they were attacking but she did know that they had her and Khalisah surrounded. She was pretty sure they weren't after her, it had been well over a year since she had received any death threats, which probably meant Khalisah was their target.

She sent a few shots over the bench, all of which missed, though it did stop the men in their tracks as they darted into cover, "Dammit!" she hissed as she reloaded and tried to think of a way out of this.

But before she could come up with anything, a sniper shot rang out through the air, silencing the frightened crowd. One of the men's heads exploded in a fountain of crimson blood. Before the other could react Jacana saw a red dot appear on his forehead and a second shot was fired. She didn't wait to hear the third as she grabbed Khalisah by the wrist and pulled her from cover, "Run!"

They were out of the area before C-Sec arrived, running through several back alleys and side streets before slowing to a walk as Khalisah took the lead. The human said nothing. She didn't seem surprised by the attack. Jacana noticed that her fists were clenched and she was shaking, but that seemed to be more from anger than anything else.

As they walked, Jacana subtly activated her omni-tool and monitored the C-Sec response to the incident before releasing a few low-key viruses into their systems, scrambling their reports just enough to keep them from identifying her and Khalisah. The last thing she needed was C-Sec interference.

Khalisah led her to the top floor of an apartment block where she unlocked one of the doors with a pass card and led her inside. Jacana looked about. The apartment wasn't large, or particularly fancy, but property on the Presidium was always expensive, well out of Jacana's price range and even more out of Khalisah's.

It was decorated in what was considered to be modern, these days. Lots of white leather and black tiles. There was only one bedroom, up a glass spiral staircase where Jacana saw white silk sheets strewn in a mess across the mattress and onto the floor. The downstairs consisted of a small, square kitchen, which was mainly cluttered with wine glasses, takeaway packets and empty bottles, and an open living area where a white, square sofa looked out across the Presidium through huge picture windows. The floor was littered with high-heeled shoes, left where they had been kicked off after a long day, and various other garments: shawls, coats, dresses, all in the style that suited Khalisah's image. The whole apartment was in a similar state of disarray and didn't look to have been tidied in weeks.

As she looked back at the door she saw Khalisah leaning heavily against it, eyes closed as she steadied herself.

Jacana watched her curiously, "Are you alright?"

The look she got was venomous and she couldn't help but recoil a little, humans had a reputation for being unpredictably touchy, it seemed every stereotype had an element of truth. Still, her ferocity added an extra element of majesty to her that Jacana had to admire.

"Do you know who they were?"

"Thugs with guns," she replied, as though no more needed to be said. She moved away from the door to the sofa where she had to move a pile of clothes, datapads and wine bottles to clear enough space to sit, hitching up the skirt of her dress so she could curl her legs up beneath herself. Jacana saw she was wearing expensive-looking stockings and wondered what petty crimes the journalist must be reduced to keep up her appearance.

She eyed Jacana warily for a moment as she pulled off her shoes and tossed them onto the floor, "You seem pretty handy with that thing," she nodded at the pistol still in her hand, "someone else with a gun."

Jacana looked down at the weapon and slowly concealed it back beneath her jacket, "You have a problem with guns?"

"I grew up around men with guns. Thugs, gangs, military soldiers, they're all the same."

"You're a pacifist?"

Khalisah glared at her, "I suppose you could say that."

Jacana was surprised to feel intimidated, Khalisah had a wall of ice between her and the world, cold and sharp if you got too close. She sensed a way in through this conversation but hesitated all the same, there was something about those eyes, the way they glinted so dangerously, demanding her to feel shame for something she didn't know she'd done.

"Did you grow up on Earth?"

Khalisah considered her coldly, "Bekenstein. My father moved us there when I was a child. Do you know it?"

Jacana nodded, "Were you on the rich side or the poor? I've heard there's nothing in between."

She snorted grimly, "My father wasn't the type to mingle with the poor."

Jacana waited, unsure how to proceed. The attack was clearly related to the inheritance, what else could it have been? This might be the only opportunity she was going to get to question Khalisah about it but if she didn't do it right there would be no second chances, "Who were those men?"

She shook her head a little and shrugged, as though it didn't matter, "There are any number of people who could have sent them. I have something a lot of people want."

"And the snipers?"

She said nothing. Jacana felt her chance slipping away from her and she moved to perch on the coffee table opposite the sofa.

"Talk to me. Maybe I can help."

Khalisah looked at her for a moment, emerald eyes gleaming. She was moments away from breaking, Jacana could feel it.

"Why do you carry a gun?" she asked, from the sound of her voice her throat had gone dry and her tone was filled with suspicion.

Jacana blinked, "I've been a journalist for over three hundred years. I've put people in prison. I've exposed political scandals. I've made a lot of enemies, many of them dangerous," it wasn't hard to make that sound genuine, it was all true.

Khalisah searched her expression for a long while. Then, quite abruptly, she sighed and all of her defenses fell away.

"I had a husband on Bekenstein. He died recently."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she looked up sharply, "it was no love story. My father sold me to him, more or less. To complete a business deal. Donovan didn't mistreat me, on the contrary, he gave me whatever I wanted. I lived like a queen. But he was cruel to other people, his businesses were all fronts for organized crime. So I exposed his secrets and I ran away to the Citadel."

Jacana frowned, "That's why you became a journalist? And those men? Were they after revenge?"

She shook her head, "They were after my husband's fortune. He encrypted his finances, the one who provides the encryption key will get the money. They think I have it."

"Do you?"

"No."

Jacana waited for a flicker of deceit, a hesitation, a hint, anything to suggest she was lying. Nothing presented itself.

"Do you know who does?"

Now the flicker came, "No."

Khalisah suddenly folded, her hands went up to her eyes and she leaned forward heavily, "Why am I telling you all this?"

Jacana considered her options quickly, Khalisah was showing uncharacteristic signs of weakness, she was vulnerable, emotional and Jacana at least seemed to have gained some of her trust.

"Because you need help," she decided, standing swiftly and offering Khalisah her hand, "come with me, I've got an idea."