Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.

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Geneva, Earth, 24 hours after the death of chairwoman Hammerstein.

Louise Kalmann was unhappy. That was nothing new, really. When she had been promoted to her current position, personal assistant to the chief of police, she had though it would mean a major career boost; a high profile job that would involve meeting important, influential people. Instead, she found herself splitting her time between writing reports her new boss was too lazy to write for himself, and dodging his wandering hands. Still, the job did have its perks. It allowed her to blend into the background and listen while other people talked. Such as right now. The shouting match in the chief's office had been going on for almost five minutes with little sign of it being over any time soon.

"We cannot suppress this!" That was detective Mannheim, clearly audible, even through the closed door. "It will come out anyway and we'll look like accomplishes."

"We have to!" That was the chief. A bit weaker than Mannheim, but not much. "We have a responsibility to maintain order; Do you know what will happen if this gets out now? The whole city will be in chaos. No, the whole planet!"

"And that won't happen if they find out later?"

"There is no need for that. Right now, nobody knows, except the people in this room. All we have to do-" The chief's voice faded away.

-o-o-o-

It had taken more than an hour before the meeting ended. Detective Mannheim and his partner had left, Mannheim still looking furious. The chief had stayed in his office, with the door closed. That was rare. Normally he would have tossed Louise the recording of the meeting and told her to write a summary. This time he had chosen either to do it himself, which was unlikely; or he had decided not to write a report at all, which was contrary to procedure. When he finally left, he had been in a bad mood and too preoccupied even to leer at her, a sure sign that his mind was elsewhere. Now she was sitting behind his desk, wondering what to do next.

Louise hesitated. As the chief's assistant she had access to his account. Strictly speaking that was against the rules, but the chief had given her access so it would be easier for her to do his work for him. She had never abused that privilege to satisfy her personal curiosity, but this time... She could feel that something was wrong. Very wrong.
Curiosity won the day. A few key-strokes and she was in. Initially she accessed the chief' calendar, which she had done many times before. If anyone questioned what she had done, she could always insist that she simply wished to make sure that there would be no scheduling conflicts and let the chief explain how she had obtained his password. After checking the schedule, she did a quick file-search, just to see if any new files had been added. This was more dangerous, but could still be explained away. Most of the recent changes were meaningless, but there were a couple of new files.
She hesitated again. This was it. One more command and the files appeared on the screen. The first was meaningless, the second just a list of activities, the third- Her eyes narrowed as she looked at it.

-o-o-o-

Louise slowly drained the glass of water she had poured for herself. It had taken her the better part of an hour to put the pieces of the puzzle together and another hour to wipe out, as best she could, all traces that she had accessed her boss's computer. Now she was done. She knew what the detectives had discovered. She also knew why the chief wanted to keep this under wraps. The question remained: what to do about it?

Geneva, The next day

Louise looked at the man sitting across form her at the restaurant table. Marcus Santino was not a man who stood out, nor would he be recognized by any of the restaurant's other patrons, and yet he was arguably one of the most influential reporters in Geneva, perhaps even on earth. As personal assistant to the chief of police Louise had learned a lot about the media. Enough to understand that there were really two types of reporters. There were those who stood in front of cameras while in the background 'important things' happened, or who sat at a news desk and commented on whatever the person in front of the camera was saying. Santino was not that kind of reporter. For one thing, he didn't look pretty enough; for another, there was no way he would be able to manage the sad-and-concerned-yet-still-grimly-determined-to-do-his-job look that those reporters probably practised in front of a mirror. The only thing Santino was concerned about was his paycheck, and it showed. He was the other kind of reporter. The kind that made sure that the talent in front of the camera had something to talk about. His talent lay in finding prime stories and selling them to the highest bidder; and the numbers on those high bids could be quite impressive. That was why Louise had chosen him from all the reporters in town to make the deal. That, and the fact that he was absolutely discreet.

"So," she said. "let's talk."

Santino simply lifted an eyebrow.

"How much are you willing to pay for a top story?"

This time Santino actually smiled. "Quite a lot, but what makes you think that your story is anywhere near the top?"

Now it was Louise' turn to smile. "How often have I contacted you, since you first handed me your business cards?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Do you really think, that the one time that I take a risk like this, the kind of risk that could send me to jail for years, by the way, I would do it for anything but a top story?"

"Probably not, but then again, the fact that you think you have something worthwhile doesn't necessarily mean that you're right."

"But, let's suppose, hypothetically, that I can give you an absolute top story: worldwide news, the kind that will run for weeks. What would you pay?"

"Hypothetically?" He wrote a number in his note book and turned it around so she could see. It contained an impressve number of zeros.

Louise smiled again. "Put another zero behind it and we may have a deal."

For the first time, Santino actually looked surprised. "That's a lot of money."

"I know."

"Even if I were willing, or able, to pay such an amount. How could I possibly know that I'd get anything near that value in return?"

Louise had spent most of the morning preparing herself for this meeting. This was, of course, the problem. As long as Santino didn't know what he was buying, he would not pay; but as soon as he had the information, there would be no need for him to pay. So, she had to give him just enough to wet his appetite.

"How about we make a deal. I describe the kind of information I have. You evaluate it's worth. Then we make a trade."

"Fair enough. What do you have?"

Louise hesitated. This was it. So far she was safe. Accessing the chief's files was a violation of protocol, but so far there was no reason anyone would find out, and even if they id, the chief would be more to blame than she. After all, the security of his account was his responsibility and he had already messed up by giving her access. Even if this came out, she would probably suffer no more than a reprimand. However, if she continued, the next sentence would put her firmly on the wrong side of at least a dozen laws and regulations. She took a deep breath.

"I can tell you why Hammerstein killed herself. If it was suicide, that is."

Santino froze, then very carefully, he picked up a small morsel of food and started chewing. His eyes never left her face.

It took at least thirty seconds before he said, cautiously, "I didn't realize that was in doubt. So far all that we have heard is that it was a suicide, not even the method."

"OD,"Louise said coolly. "A mixture of anti-depressants, recreational drugs, and alcohol. Note that I'm giving you that for free."

"So noted. And why would there be doubt about the suicide?"

Louise shrugged. "Hammerstein had no prescription for the anti-depressants and there is no record that she even visited either a doctor or a pharmacy recently. Also, she didn't have a history of substance abuse. Then again, politicians like to keep such things secret and there is no sign that anyone was with her when she took them. So, no evidence either way."

"I see. And the motive?"

Louise smiled. "Now we're getting into things that cost money. Let's just say that if other people knew what I know now... Well, there would be plenty of motive for killing her. Then again, if she thought these things would come out, she may have decided to stay one step ahead of the lynching mob."

"That bad?"

"Oh, yes."

"And you can prove this, how?" Santino's face still registered only polite interest, but she could almost hear his brain work as he considered various possibilities.

"I have a copy, a scan, not an electronic copy, of data that the police found yesterday. They're planning to keep it hidden, at least for now, for fear of what will happen when it comes out. I also have description of how they found it, so you can verify for yourself."

Santino thought for a moment. Then he scratched out the number he had originally written and wrote a knew one. "This is the maximum I can authorize right now. Anything more, and I would have to contact a major network to obtain funds. If what you have is as hot as you say, I wouldn't advice that."

Louise didn't believe him for a moment. Still, it was a very nice amount of money.

"It will do."

"Good. Just be careful not to spend it too quickly. They'll be searching for the leak for a very long time."

Louise nodded. "Don't worry. When this comes out, there will be a an upheaval in the police department. When that happens, I will be reassigned at least, maybe even fired. Either way, it will not come as a surprise if I start to explore new career options. Perhaps move to a different city, or even off-world. That should cover our tracks."

Santino pulled out a small tablet and started to type in commands. A few moments later he inserted a credit chip. He turned the screen around so she could watch as he made the final authorization and withdrew the chip.

"It's loaded. Now, what exactly do you have?"

Louise held up her own tablet. For centuries those had come with an built-in camera, which had come in very handy. "Take a look."

Santino's eyes narrowed. "This is a financial statement. Hammerstein's?"

"Ultimately, yes. It goes through several ghost accounts, but, like I said, I can give you the connections. It's from an investment company, basically a hedge fund. Look at the transaction: Exogeni sold, Weyland-Yutani bought. That was a couple of weeks ago. Then, three days ago, another share swap: Weyland-Yutani sold, Exogeni bought. Both swaps were for the same absolute value. Check the stock values."

Santino was typing furiously on his tablet, looking at the market logs. His eyes widened.

"Good god! She must have ended up with nearly ten times as many shares as she started with."

"Indeed. News of the discovery of aliens sent Exogeni shares up, because alien biology is one of their key research areas. Hammerstein sold Exogeni a few days later. Weyland-Yutani has been on a decline recently because of the military cutbacks, so she could get those shares cheap."

"Except that with the threat of alien invasion those shares started climbing."

"Yes. Then the aliens hit Shanxi. Guess who is one of the major investors in that colony?"

"Exogeni."

"Right again. They just lost one of their major research and manufacturing sites. Exogeni shares plummeted. Hammerstein pretty much got them for free. So, without spending a centicredit, she basically turned every share she owned into ten shares. Of course there is a financial risk: Unless something changes, Exogeni may actually go under in the near future. Except the government won't allow that, so they will either receive a major government bail-out, or, more likely, be placed under government control."

Santino laughed softly. "And Hammerstein was in the perfect position to make sure that it happened. Either way the value will rise and by the time the shares are back at a reasonable value, Hammerstein would have picked up at least fifty million credits."

"Exactly. So, my question is: why would she commit suicide? She was safe. The police only found this because they were looking anyway after her suicide. If she had done nothing, nobody would have known that there was anything worth looking at."

"Unless somebody was already looking." Santino said softly. "Someone who was wondering why she was had delayed military aid for Shanxi. If such a person found this and threatened exposure-"

"She would have been torn limb from limb." Louise agreed. "Forget about police protection, forget about bodyguards or security. Hell, most people on earth approved of the delays; but not for money. If it got out that she sold out six million human beings just to make a quick buck..."

Santino slid the credit chip across without taking his eyes off the share values.

"Let me make a copy of this, and the trace information."

"You're satisfied then?"

"Oh yes. This is explosive. Westerlund has been dominating the news cycle with their saint-Hammerstein approach. There are at least three other networks that would love to have a new angle and this... this will blow Westerlund out of the water. They'll be a laughing stock for years to come. And you said the police wanted to keep this under wraps?"

"Of course! The department prides itself on its political sensitivity. There are at least two dozen Assembly members who actively aided Hammerstein with her delays. Those people will be very grateful if the chief can keep this out of the news."

"Right. Of course. I'm sure that they would be very grateful." Santino smiled again. This time the expression was anything but friendly. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few calls to make."

That same evening, life broadcast

"Welcome everyone!" The show's host smiled, showing a considerable number of brilliant white teeth. "With us tonight in the studio is general Thomas Spears, the United Systems Military's chief of staff."

There was a smattering of applause as Spears smiled politely at the camera, before resuming his usual earnest-and-concerned look. He'd had a lot of practice with that look lately.

"General," the host continued. "It has now been several days since the navy's withdrawal from Shanxi. Can you tell the viewers what our current situation is? How safe is humanity?"

Spears surpressed a grimace. Talking to this sort of supposedly "expert" commentators was in many ways even worse than talking to reporters in general. Still, he had little choice. With Hammerstein's death everything had ground to a halt, but eventually the wheels of government would start turning again. When that happened, he had to be in a position to put pressure on the politicians, and for that he needed public support. So, he had to stay in the public eye, and with the mainstream media focussing on the human drama of Hamerstein's suicide, expert panels were about the only place where he could look good.

"Right now, Arcturus is safe," he answered. "Second fleet is at full strength. Unless these turians receive major reinforcements, they don't have the strength to fight their way out of the Arcturus relay and past admiral Drescher's forces. Unfortunately, that is the only good news. The second relay, near Thedus, is still exposed. Right now, we only have a scratch team of destroyers and rapid deployment vessels covering that relay. If the aliens attack in force, that will not suffice, and once the turians have control of that relay, they will simply have too many options. They can attack Thedus and the surrounding colonies, or they can use the relay to jump further along our frontier. We cannot even begin to cover all those systems."

"And earth? Surely earth is secure."

Spears snorted. "Hardly! Without a formal declaration of war, we are still hampered by peace-time limitations. First fleet is only at half strength. The rest is in reserve and will take weeks to activate. Even if we received the necessary authorization today earth would not be safe for at least another month."

"I see-" The reporter fell silent as he listened to the voice that came from her ear-piece. He was a skilled professional, who knew he was on life television and understood the need to present the correct image. Even so for a moment his face only registered blank astonishment.

"General Spears," he said at last. "I apologize for asking a question that is not directly related to this subject. However, we have just received an astonishing piece of news and I would very much appreciate your comment. Are you aware, that a police investigation has turned up evidence that Patricia Hammerstein, the late chairwoman of the Assembly of the United Systems, played the stockmarket in order to gain financially from the Shanxi crisis?"

"A hedge fund?"

"Like I said, general. Greed is a wonderful motive. It's so... understandable. A simple line graph showing the stock values, a few dates, and even the dumbest viewer can grasp what Hammerstein was up to."

"And if they check the time-stamps on the transactions? If there is even the slightest doubt about this-"

Harper smiled. "I can assure you, general, that everything will check out, no matter how deep they search."

Spears felt a sudden chill. It was less than two weeks since he had handed Harper a credit chip with funds to set up whatever he had in mind to discredit Hammerstein. Either Harper had penetrated the financial system to an extend that was supposed to be impossible, in order to fake the dates, or the hedge fund had already been in place; and if that was the case... The general couldn't help but wonder how many such account might exist, ready to be linked to whatever individual Harper set his sights on.

"I suppose it is fortunate, after all, " he said slowly. "that ms Hammerstein had the good grace to remove herself before this came out. It saves us a very nasty public trial. Still, it's almost as though she was expecting to be exposed. People may wonder about that."

"I'm sure they will, general. In fact, I expect that there will be conspiracy theories about Hammerstein's demise for many years to come, but that doesn't matter. What matters is, that we use this moment in time to take charge of the government. That is your task general. I've created the opportunity, now it's up to you to seize it."

Spears nodded. "I know. By this time tomorrow, there will be utter chaos in streets. Not just here, but everywhere on the planet. Once the news reaches the colonies it will be even worse. They'll want to secede. We have to head that off and quickly. And there is another aspect to it as well. Already politicians are fleeing the city. If too many of them go into hiding, we may not have enough assembly members available to vote on anything."

"And so?"

"And so, we need to direct people's attention elsewhere. With Hammerstein out of the way, and her supporters in chaos, the assembly will go along with anything that will keep them from getting lynched. So, all that remains is convincing the mob not to kill them."

Harper nodded. "I take it you have a plan, general?"

"I do. There is one proven way of deflecting the anger of a mob: you show them another target."

"The aliens."

"Exactly."

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A/N No battle this time, but I wanted this part of the plot wrapped up. Next chapter: the battle for Shanxi continues.

I'm playing a bit with the way a hedge fund actually works, but there is quite a bit of variation, even today. Who knows what may be possible in the future.

Regarding the xenomorphs. I have thought about turning them loose on the citadel, but I'm not sure yet. That is really a point of no return. Once they're lose on a space station you may as well blow it up. There is just no way to get rid of them completely.
About the terror factor: That is certainly important. It's arguably the most terrifying SciFi creation ever. Not sure though if it will work on every other species. For us it is so effective, because it triggers some very elementary responses. Another species may be less susceptible because they lack the right perspective. The sexual component may just be less relevant to a species like the salarians, and a non-humanoid species like the hanar may not notice it at all. Then again, they take on characteristics of the host. Perhaps the terror factor will go with it (Not sure what a hanar-xenomorph would be like, but it is an interesting thought)