Citadel
"I swear I'm going to turn into a cow if I eat any more of this stuff," declared Tessie as she stirred the beef stew in her bowl.
There was no reaction from those seated around the table. Inured to her constant griping, they were loathed to waste any energy in formatting a reply and simply carried on with their respective meal despite it being the same kind of food they were having for the last few months. Heaving a sigh, she took a mouthful. Her stomach heaved. She nearly spat the mouthful back into her bowl. With effort, she swallowed it before pushing her bowl away, wishing there were fresh fruits to be had but with the hydroponic gardens shut down, the other alternative choice on the menu was protein paste and tablets.
"Waste," Challa noted, his hand moving automaton like, scooping from bowl to mouth.
"I'm going to vomit if I eat any more of that." She sipped tiredly at her glass of water. "Any news they're going to reopen the station?" this to Malon who as usual, was surfing the xtranet as he ate.
"Status unchanged. We're still undergoing maintenance."
"Oh god," she groaned, rubbing her face. "There isn't anything special going on, what the hell maintenance are they talking about?"
"Considering the unusual circumstances in which the Citadel returned to its place of origin," Malon murmured, "I think they want to be certain nothing has changed. Didn't you notice there are more C-Sec squads running inspections in the wards?"
"Changed? What has changed? Station up and running? Check. Keepers doing their thing? Check. What else is there?" she demanded. "And before you start talking about that incident, you and West didn't say anything about what happened in your report so nobody knows about it but us. Besides, without any proof, it can't be verified."
Malon looked up briefly, shrugged before returning his gaze to the screen of his omni-tool. His disinclination to debate the subject was clear. Challa as usual, remained silent whenever the topic came into play. With pursed lips, Tessie glared at them. If Westir was with them, the table would be rocking back and forth with arguments but he was still under observation in medbay so her statement simply faded into oblivion. She didn't understand why he was not discharged yet but it seemed the doctor felt he was under some mental distress and should stay a little longer. Perhaps with the lack of patients, the doctors felt they had to do a good number on West.
With leave denied and every entertainment outlet closed, it irked her that there was no channel to vent her frustrations. The only silver lining so far was the email from her family, no doubt turned inside out every which way by C-Sec, assuring her that they survived the assault. With tight restrictions on communications, she couldn't send an email back to them. If she could, she would hand in her resignation and booked the next berth to Earth. The problem was, civilian traffic was still locked down. No one was getting off the station except military personnel. It was totally unfair. Maintenance crews put their lives on the line too. Shouldn't they have equal consideration?
"Who is taking up Alliance slot in the fleet?" Challa asked suddenly.
Malon cocked his head at the screen. "No update on that one either." He glanced at Challa curiously. "The Alliance aren't exactly vacating, they're just smaller in numbers."
"Yeah, it's not like they're going to give up their Council seat," snorted Tessie. "Not if they can help it. It's a no brainer who's going to take up the slack. Come on," she said when they looked blankly at her. "It's probably the geth. They're practically everywhere nowadays."
She prodded at her bowl, half wondering if she should try her luck at the dry stores instead and then decided it wasn't worth the time to wander over there. "Who knows they wouldn't end up running the station one day."
"The Council handing a seat of power over to a group of A.I?" Malon blinked. "Unlikely."
"I'm not saying it's going to be handed over," she muttered distractedly, her eyes drawn to an excited crowd gathered at the entrance of the canteen. People were gesticulating to those at the canteen tables. More and more were joining in. What's going on?
"The geth are helping out many now, yes," said Challa as he finished up his food, "but many trust not the geth would remain quiescent."
"Would you say the community would be divided if they make a move?" observed Malon. "Many would feel they owe the geth."
"Probably." Tessie's attention on the crowd sharpened when people began moving away, objects in their hands. Something was going on. "Hey, Konny," she called to a husky fellow when he hurried past their table. "What's the hustle over there?"
"Supply ship just docked with a load of cargo. Fresh fruits for all!" He grinned, not slowing down his pace but he showed her the two oranges he was holding.
"No shit!"
She leaped to her feet and rushed over to the crowd, Malon and Challa not far behind. The cacophony became louder as whoever was distributing the bounty tried to get the crowd to get in line. To no avail. Those along the perimeter shouted their choice, hoping someone would toss it their way while those in the forefront were grabbing from the opened crates. Without any hesitation, Tessie dived into the crowd. Skillfully worming her way through whatever space she could find, she managed to get within reach of the crates. Her hands darted out, amidst a nest of grasping hands, and snagged a couple of oranges. These she jammed into her jacket before she jiggled and slide her way over to other crates.
By the time she wriggled out from the crowd, she was sweating and cursing from bruises from jabbing elbows and an eye weeping from the fingers of someone's hand that struck her face. Despite the discomfort, she was feeling satisfaction at having jabbed some of her bottled up resentment into some unfortunate unknown bodies along the way. Wiping a sleeve over the eye, she looked around for Malon and Challa and was not surprised they were making no headway into the crowd. Tapping their shoulders to get their attention, she grinned when their eyes lit up at the fruits she proffered. Tearing the wrapper off the bunch of purple globules, Malon popped one into his mouth as Challa sank his teeth into a cinnamon coloured fruit shaped like a pear.
"I'm taking one to West. Coming?"
Without waiting to see if they would follow, she skirted the crowd and headed out into the corridor. Taking out one of the oranges from her jacket, she held it out in the light as the other two hurried to catch up and match her step. "Now if this doesn't put a light in his eyes, I don't know what will."
"Hard to hold a light when all is lost," observed Malon.
"I'm not unsympathetic but his situation is hardly unique," she retorted. "He's one drop out of millions so why can't he just pick up and move on? It's been five years. All he does is pretend he isn't bleeding away. Why can't he just cry and let it all out?"
"Do human males cry?" Challa mumbled around a generous mouthful of fruit.
There wasn't any suitable reply to that so Tessie made a face and shrugged. Despite their friendly association, Challa was still a batarian. Batarians and humans tend not to mix, not when the former committed heinous crimes against her own people. That was before the war. But even if they had helped in the fight against the reapers, she wasn't about to flap her mouth off on what batarians would perceive as weaknesses. It probably didn't matter. It was not as if both groups hadn't sniffed out each other's foibles.
"But seriously," she switched back to the former topic as they stepped into an empty lift, "what's holding them up? Isn't it better to get everyone back? They aren't making any money if the station remain closed."
"Two possible concerns," Malon said. "Security and refurbishing."
"I understand the need in getting rid of Down Below." She shuddered as she recalled the times she had to make a trip to the Tishaeri Ward. It was not that she didn't like her own fellowmen but when they were of the kind dabbling in questionable business, she'd rather not get in the mix with them. "I'm all for that but washing out the rest as well and stock taking?" she shook her head. "That's going to take months. We'll all still be stuck up here, grubbing around this huge tin can. I really don't see the Council ever so ready to just let this place stay stagnant for that long."
"Reapers come, people change, nothing is the same no more," Challa said as he carefully spit out the seeds of the fruit into the wrapper.
"Well thanks for the old shower," Tessie muttered crossly as she rolled the orange between her hands.
"Down Below is the past," Malon said, "of major concern now is this unknown faction that attacked Earth. If they can do that, they can also attack the Citadel. Rumors are circulating that the assault is the handiwork of Cerberus."
"Cerberus," snorted Tessie. "They're still around? Thought they were ground to dust in the war. We showed them this time though and anyway, nobody is coming right out to say who it is, it could be the TI for all we know. They would be stupid to try something here, wouldn't they?"
"Who can say?" Malon shrugged. "The TI aren't exactly...sensible."
"You said it. Only the insane would try for this place."
She stepped out quickly when the lift stopped and made her way to the medical centre. Nothing had changed. All except for one medbed were empty. With no patients, most of the staff were conspicuously absent. Shoving the orange back into her jacket, she made her way to Westir's bed. He was sitting up cross-legged, one hand to his head, gazing into the air. She wondered what was ailing him until she drew nearer.
"Hey West. What's this?" She eyed the forest of small toy bunnies spread around him and recognised them as the voicecorders he made to try to warn the ductrats. Was he making more?
"Listen to this." He held out the voicecorder he was listening to and turned it on. The voice of a young child floated into the air, sweet and light. The message was short but its purpose simple; to thank him for saving her life.
"Where did you get that?" asked Tessie.
"One of the medtech said he found a box addressed to me outside the door. When I opened it, all of these were inside." He gestured to the bunnies around him. "Every one of them has a message."
"Wow." She picked up one of the bunnies and held it to eye level. "Who'd thought they'd feel grateful?"
"They're children, Tess, why do you always think the worse of them?" he frowned.
"And why do you insist on putting on blinkers? They're not typical kids. They're drug and black market runners, they lie, steal, cheat. They don't 'preciate people poking into their business." She stared hard at him when his face grew stubborn. "If you're thinking of trying to help them, you're going to run into a brick wall."
"I'm not asking you to lift a finger, why do you care?" he returned, growing angry. "Why do you believe what people said of them?"
"And you know them better?" she said skeptically.
"I don't but I'm not going to dump them in the back bin just because people think they're hopeless and not worth the time. They're kids, Tess," he emphasized. "I don't believe they had any choice in their circumstances. Nobody cares about them. It's time someone takes an interest."
Malon watched the exchange with dismay. Hardly five minutes and the two were already sniping away at each other. "By sending you these," he put in hurriedly when Tessie's face turned red, "it is a sign they harbor good feelings towards you. A first step in the right direction if you intend to provide some guidance."
"What makes you think nobody has tried?" she insisted, ignoring the tiny shaking hint of Malon's head to drop the subject.
"I don't care," Westir bit off each word emphatically. "I'm going to try."
"I can give you a hand," said Malon. "With the station under lock down, there is nothing much to do after duty shift."
Challa glanced at Tessie before adding his bit. "I can put in time."
"You're all mad," she said snappishly before shrugging. What did it matter? "If you want to waste your time, go right ahead. Don't expect me to tag along. Before I forget." She reached into her jacket and took out an orange. "Here." She took hold of Westir's hand and slapped the fruit into it. "Managed to snag this at the canteen. I'm going back to my digs for some rack time, you guys have a nice chat."
She began to walk away and then turned around. "Kids or not, West, if you 're going to try poking around the Keepers, you've better not crawl in too far. You'd never know what they might do." With a wave, she strolled away.
Malon blinked at Westir. "Is she right?"
Irritated that Tessie saw through him, Westir said, "I do want to help the kids but I also want to find out what happened. Maybe they remembered something."
"What if you do find out something about the Keepers?" asked Challa.
"I don't know but I do know we may get to understand them a little better. Not disregard them as nothing more than servants. Right now, we should try to contact those kids." He picked up one of the voicecorders. "These bunnies will come in handy. Let's see if the kids will respond to them again."
Malon picked up one of the bunnies. "If they don't?"
"I'll think of something."
Earth
Antartica Base
"...if we merge the squadrons, Home Fleet will be at full strength. That will leave us weaker along the flanks but it is imperative that our one effective defensive capability have the means and power to meet any offensive charge."
Admiral Khan looked around the conference table as he concluded his statement. The conference table was quiet as officers studied the holo displays of the local cluster and the Earth. Khan waited a beat but no one said anything, he shifted his glance to the light silver haired man to his left.
Hackett remained silent. The bottom of the barrel had been scrapped, every ship that could be recalled had been pulled back. There was nothing to add, really, to a already clear presentation, only a question on the feasibility of the proposal. Someone muttered inaudibly down the table. Hackett's eyes easily picked out the sandy haired officer; Rear Admiral Pekos. A member of the upcoming younger cadre. Khan frowned with displeasure.
"Admiral Pekos, you have something to add?" asked Hackett.
Pekos looked startled; he never intended to be heard. Seeing every eye was on him, he shifted uneasily until he saw the look in Hackett's eye, clearly inviting him to continue. He cleared his throat. "The fleet is just one big sitting duck right there. There's no maneuverability if more than one assault force come running in," he said.
"I agree," another officer sitting diagonally across from him said. "Pulling in all the squadrons bloat the fleet. It becomes too unwieldy. Stationed in one position, it's too slow and too far away to respond to any offensive from other sectors."
"What do you suggest?" Hackett asked before Khan could reply.
After a glance at Khan, Pekos said, "The squadrons should remain where they are. Their positions is flexible to assume both defensive and offensive roles to cover all sectors."
"How effective would they be, considering they're understrength?" Khan demanded.
"In weight of metal, they match all comers except dreadnoughts. The only element they lack is anti-fighter screening. That can be resolved if a few carriers from the fleet is reassigned."
"That will leave the main fleet vulnerable." Khan glared at Pekos who tried not to roll his eyes at the unnecessary obstructive statement; there were more than enough carriers to spare.
"Perhaps we could deploy hard installations in the debris field."
"I find that proposal wanting. Hard installations are immobile platforms with limited range. How practical are they if the field of engagement is beyond their scope?" Khan looked around. "Moreover, with our resources, it takes at least two months to construct a single platform. Given the indeterminate window of an imminent Cerberus attack, they cannot be taken into consideration."
Pekos shrugged and sat back in his chair. What Khan said was true but only if the fleet intended to carry the fight too far out. Hard installations could act as a defense screen if Cerberus launched strikes on the planet itself. If they could begin construction right away, the core of those platforms could be set up long before the bells and whistles were added. If Khan couldn't see it, he wasn't about to contend his rebuttal. Doing so was to kick Khan off again into a blustery discourse. After hearing the older man controlled the floor for the better part of two hours, he didn't want to inflict more torture on himself and his fellow officers.
Hackett leaned forward, sweeping his eyes across every face. "Is there anything else anyone would like to add?" he asked.
The silence lingered. Khan opened his mouth. A look from Hackett invited him to close it. After a brief hesitation, he did. Looking around the table again, Hackett nodded with finality. "Thank you, this meeting is concluded."
Langdon remained seated as the others got up. They waited for Khan. Next to Hackett, he was the most senior officer and tradition dictate that he should step out first. After a cool assessing stare at Langdon, Khan turned and marched out. The rest followed quietly. Once the last man exited the room, Langdon hit a few keys on the console before him, shutting down the video and audio pickups that were recording the conference.
"So," Hackett looked at him. "What'd it be? A fat goose or a pack of lean wolves?"
"I'm leaning towards the wolves but those squadrons are mighty thin in their ranks. Pekos is right about the fighter screen. The squadrons are vulnerable to swarms of oculi."
"Go on."
"Shifting some carriers over would cover the gaps but tonnage still count so what if we employ some good old booby traps?" Langdon picked up a stylus and turned to the holographic displays. "If we strategically deploy inert mine fields along these sectors-," he highlighted the areas with the stylus, "and if the enemy forces can be lured into their range, the amount of damage inflicted might be sufficient to impair their offensive capability before they come within range of the Earth. Additionally-," he turned to the image of the globe, "we can also consider mining the debris field." He highlighted the areas he had in mind.
"A fractured debris field of that size is deadly," said Hackett. "Mining it is hardly advisable and only as a last resort."
Langdon winced at the reminder of what the Citadel taskforce did in a desperate attempt to halt the assault on the Earth. The resultant fire spalt and scattered the debris in all directions. Survivors faced an additional menace as they escaped the destruction of their ships. In the aftermath, fighter squadrons and SAR teams had difficulty avoiding collisions in carrying out their tasks. Rescue operations were bogged down as they struggled to pick up damaged lifepods before they were pulverized or breached by chunks and minute pieces of moving debris.
"Yes, sir. I understand," he said somberly. "But with the time constraint and resources, I'm afraid it is the only practical and last line of defense." He called up a holographic schematic of a sphere. Hackett leaned forward, reading the data with interest.
"Pekos ran this by me several days ago to thrash this out. The main concern is active scans would pick up an inert mine field so a wider dispersion is more optimum. He made a suggestion on the shell material. I think it will work, sir."
Hackett's brows twitched. "That is certainly innovative," he murmured. "The mines won't be picked up until it's too late. What about deployment?"
"Frigates and shuttles will seed the perimeter within the next few days. I suggest we leave the debris field insertion as a secondary operation to allow the chaff to settle further."
A sigh escaped Hackett as he regarded the holo displays. He called the meeting to see what the board would throw up but Khan ended up wagging his tongue for the most part, advocating a proposal he was probably polishing for the past few days. The rest of the junior officers had little input but then, with the numbers remaining in the fleet, there wasn't much anyone could suggest to even up the odds in their favour. Time was against them. All he could hope for was that Cerberus had no plans to launch an attack in the next few weeks.
"Very well," he nodded. "Assemble the required taskforce and arrange with BAO (Bureau of Alliance operations) to reassign the carriers. We'll go with the wolves."
Langdon made a note, pleased that the old man had decided in favor of a more mobile defense strategy. With the matter settled, he moved on to another subject.
"There's no further update from the geth, sir. It looks like the TI had no indoctrination devices or reserved tactical arsenal other than basic armory. They estimate HZ1 and 2 would be clear at the end of three months," he said. "There is also no sign of the three fugitives although further tests will be carried out on the bodies found in the TI fortifications-," he stopped short when the beep of an incoming call sounded. "Yes?"
"Sir, a priority message from Captain Shepard."
At that, both men sat up and looked at the screen. After reading the message twice to be sure, Hackett studied the schematics Shepard sent over. "Inspired," he said, feeling pleased.
"You're giving her the green light?" Langdon asked. "What about the third segment?"
"At this moment, Thessia is hovering on the edge of an abyss. If they lose those two footholds, it will take them longer to recover, perhaps longer than they took to settle after the war," Hackett said gravely. "They haven't been as dedicated in pushing back the TI when they should have and now they're finding out it's going to cost them. Neither we, the turians or the salarians can extend much aid. They're on their own in this one. If Shepard has a solution, she should go to Thessia."
"She would have gone either way if we said no," Langdon said wryly.
"We have no reason to deny her request when the Ain Jalut can proceed to the Hades Nexus to pick up the third segment of the puzzle Greenacres has set for us." Hackett pointed to the screen. "We'll see if it works. If Prime Psi confirms a near hundred percent probability of success, it wouldn't fail."
"Would it be adaptable for future uses?"
Hackett shook his head. "Citadel Conventions prohibit future deployment. Unless a way can be found to counter its impact, it will remain that way for a long time-," he stopped short when the console beeped again. This time, the message was from one of the sentry marines posted outside the conference room, requesting permission to send Commander Santiago, Langdon's aide, in.
"What is it?" Hackett asked with some tension after Santiago entered and greeted them. For Santiago to report personally, it wasn't anything good.
"Admiral, we have lost contact with the Asteria taskforce," said Santiago. "48 hours ago, we received confirmation that the taskforce is conducting fleet maneuvers in the system. As per standard OP, all comm channels are restricted and locked down. The daily standard fleet comm traffic continued at the usual schedule. However, there has been no data package received in the last twelve hours. Attempts were made to establish contact with the Asteria colony but there were no replies. There is also no response from the FTL comm buoys."
"Have you contacted the Asari High Command?" Langdon asked after exchanging a look with Hackett; Asteria was in the Hekate System located in the Hades Nexus. Did this incident have anything to do with the third segment in the Sheol System?
"Yes, sir. They're unable to contact their own ships nor have they received any messages for the last 24 hours. They asked that we look into the matter."
"What's the nearest-," began Hackett before he cut himself off abruptly. With all Alliance squadrons recalled to Earth, there was no navy unit in nearby systems to dispatch. The nearest military units were those of the Quarians and the Geth. "Where is the Ain Jalut?" he asked instead.
"Still at the Titan Nebula," said Langdon. "The Normandy is the nearest..."
"No," Hacket cut him off. "Contact the geth and the quarians," he said to Santiago. "See if they could send some ships to investigate and notify the Ain Jalut to proceed to Asteria. Keep a tight lid on this matter."
"Aye sir." Santiago saluted and headed for the door.
Langdon waited till Santiago left before saying softly, "You don't want to put Shepard in a difficult position."
"Would you?" Hackett looked at him. "Her mother at one end and her bondmate at the other. I would not say I know for a certainty what she may choose to do but I would prefer that she does not have to. Not when we can handle it."
"She may not agree, sir."
"That's her opinion. Sending her to Thessia is a command decision."
At that Langdon fell silent. Privately he wondered what Shepard would think the moment she learned that Hackett had peremptorily made the choice for her.
"Admiral Shepard is a capable fleet commander with a strong taskforce under her command," continued Hackett. "The problem may be not as catastrophic as we supposed but if it turned out that Cerberus is behind it, Shepard has to be kept out of it. For now."
"Why?" Langdon was not sure he understood.
"I've no desire for both of them to land in the wrong hands," Hackett said grimly as Langdon stared at him, shocked. "That's the most screwed up scenario I can come up with. Until we know exactly what Greenacres intended, we cannot dismiss the possibility that whatever he is doing now is not an elaborate scheme to snare Shepard. Imagine the blow to morale if he succeeded."
For a moment, Langdon was tempted to think the old man was wrong but he had to concede that Shepard was a well known icon. Her deeds were legend in the galactic community, forever cast a champion in the annals of galactic history. Winning the war would not have happened without Shepard, it was said. There were cynics of course but they were a insignificant number compared to the number of admirers, especially among the Alliance officers and marines. He couldn't imagine how Shepard lived with the weight of such regard. "Retiring" to Thessia did not dim any of the reverence. He dragged his attention back to Hackett as the older man continued.
"I'm likely barking up the wrong tree concerning Shepard but if it's Cerberus at work here, there could be another reason why they would attack Asteria. The reason why we maintain a taskforce at Asteria."
Realization struck Langdon. "The grain," he breathed in astonishment and pulled the console back, running a series of queries. "The harvests are in and shipments are already prepared."
"Didn't Shepard recently handed in a report on the number of Cerberus freighters that left the core?" said Hackett.
"This can't be Greenacres's principal motive. It has to be part of whatever plan he has in mind."
"I think it's time we separate Greenacres from Cerberus. Whatever he is doing now, is not in the latter's interest. It has to be Terra Firma. He joined Cerberus for a specific purpose. I believed he has achieved his goals with the collapse of the hierarchy. But-," he held up a hand to forestall Langdon as he made to speak, "despite Terra Firma's noncombatant status, Cerberus resources are still his to call on. Has Shepard forwarded any further insights on Greenacres?"
"No," Langdon shook his head worriedly.
Hackett rapped the table with his knuckles, slightly vexed. "I can't help but feel we're missing something else in the puzzle."
"It's likely the warships that escorted the freighters from the Omega 4 Relay are responsible for the attack on Asteria."
"Highly probable," Hackett frowned. "We should look more closely into the communique from the taskforce before the comm blackout."
"I'll look into it at once." Langdon pushed back his chair, anxious to get to it. "Sir."
Thessia
Medical Center Laboratories
The hustle and bustle around the laboratory was unusual but Peliar ignored it to examine the Adjutant cell specimen under the scope, carefully noting down each development as it reacted to various introductions of new material. So engrossed was she that she didn't hear the call at all until her shoulder was tapped hard.
"What is it?" she said without looking around to see who it was.
"What in Athame's name are you doing? This isn't the time to be mired in work!" the voice scolded.
"What?" She turned round to stare in puzzlement at Zelvis whose green-grey eyes sparkled in annoyance at her confusion.
"We are supposed to be packing up, not continuing with work. Didn't you attend the meeting yesterday?"
"I was busy," Pelia blinked. "What has happened?"
"The labs are closed until further notice. All dangerous specimens, especially that one," Zelvis nodded towards the shielded microlens, "are to be moved to the vaults or destroyed. It has to be done today."
"But why?"
"Apparently, the military are running a city wide invasion drill. Everything dangerous has to be locked down. Everyone is to report to their respective elders for further instructions at the end of the day. I think they're mad," Zelvis said bitingly.
"That is strange," Pelia said anxiously "Do you suppose they're worried the TI will strike back with the lost of Armali?"
"Who knows? They just made me miss an appointment I was looking to all week!" Zelvis turned away. "Get clean up, will you?" She looked at her omni-tool when it beeped.
Pelia frowned at her receding back before turning to the microlens. Removing the shielded container cautiously, she deposited it into the nearby incinerator and made sure everything was destroyed. Pulling off her protective gear, she threw them into a waste disposal unit for hazardous equipment and made sure that too, was completely fried. Looking around, she realized that most of the laboratory equipment was packed, every workstation was powered down. A few of her colleagues were present, clearing away their personal items as she watched.
She began to do the same. There was very little to pack. Having lost most of her possessions during the war, she was too caught up in work to get herself back into the usual rhythm. Other worries and burdens had preoccupied her and she had little inclination to try to change it. The only bright spark in the last year was that she could finally devote herself to finding a way to resolve the TI problem after confessing the dilemma she found herself in to Liara and Shepard on Ilos. Coupled with the political changes, it was a great relief although the clan elders reprimanded her for her part, minute as it was, in the downfall of one of their Assembly members.
As if I care. Trisio doesn't deserve that seat.
Closing up the duffel, she shut down her workstation, removed the datastick and headed for the door. As she passed the doorway of the storage room, the tail end of a conversation caught her attention. Wasn't that Zelvis? She stood by the door, listening in.
"...I double checked. T'Soni's last appointment before they move her is 10 in the morning. Yes...yes, I can do that. I'll make sure they get the appropriate security clearance..."
T'Soni? Was she referring to Liara? What did she want with Liara? Hearing footsteps towards the door, Pelia hastily scooted for the lab exit. Who was Zelvis talking to?