MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Twenty-Six*

Antus wasn't sure how long he had been laying on the couch with Novari wrapped in his arms. It had been less than an hour, he was certain of that but neither of them had fallen asleep. They couldn't, not with their dire situation looming over them like a malevolent shadow. While both wanted nothing more than to block out the universe and enjoy the warmth of one another's presence, that universe shared no such desire. It would intrude, one way or another, and Antus knew it was now a question of whether they could stay one step ahead of it.

'We can't stay here,' he thought aloud. 'We don't have much time if we're going to stay ahead of C-Sec, or whoever else wants to take us down.'

'I know,' Novari replied sleepily. 'I keep telling myself one more minute.'

Sighing with unfathomable reluctance, Antus shifted, gently easing Novari off his lap and getting to his feet. He took a few steps to a large window that overlooked the Presidium Commons, stretching his arms. Outside, there was no sign of anything amiss. The embassy attack had taken place at the other side of the district and was not all that far away, but the pathways and bridges were still flowing with people of many races, all going about their business with serene complacency.

Despite his hangover, Antus forced his mind to work. 'C-Sec haven't come by to question me yet, but that could change. If they make the connection between Eris and Ciro, that could lead to us. The old man already suspects me, even if he doesn't know what he suspects me of.'

Novari pulled herself into a sitting position and folded her hands over her lap. 'I'll only need a couple of days at most to make all the arrangements for us to get off the Citadel. We can hide out in the Wards, if necessary. Rent an apartment somewhere.'

'It'll leave a paper trail a mile wide,' Antus said with a shake of his head. 'C-Sec are looking for you already and they'll be watching out for any credit transactions in your name. If Ciro has already told them about me, then the same goes.'

'If they were after you, wouldn't they be here by now?'

'Maybe, but I can't go showing any suspicious behaviour so soon after the bombing, not without knowing for sure if Ciro has told them anything.'

Novari gestured in frustration. 'Then what, Antus? Either way we're stuck here, just waiting for C-Sec or whoever...killed Eris...to track me down.'

Antus stared long and hard out of the window. He tried to summon the clarity of thought on which he'd always prided himself. Since his realisation following the geth attack, he'd let those instincts wither for the sake of his feelings for Novari, but now he urged them to return. Since their next actions depended entirely on Ciro's knowledge of their relationship, it seemed only logical to ascertain exactly what the extent of that knowledge was.

'I'm not stuck here, not yet,' he announced, turning away from the window and heading towards the bedroom. 'I'm going to pay Ciro a visit, see if I can find out what he knows.'

An alarmed look passed over Novari and she rose to follow him. 'How are you going to do that, exactly?'

Antus fumbled with a fresh suit and began the laborious process of putting it on as he answered, 'I don't know. I'll play it casual to start, see what he thinks about what happened at the asari embassy. If he really was in a relationship with Eris, however, then spirits only know what his state of mind will be.'

'That's my worry. If he thinks I killed her then he could be on his way to C-Sec as we speak.'

Antus paused and gave a single, grudging nod. 'Either way, we're not going to get away from all of this if there's a target on my back. Extracting you is one thing, but I doubt your Huntress will make allowances for a turian fugitive to go with you, the political consequences will be too great a risk.' He looked at Novari, his voice ringing with finality. 'One way or another, I won't let Ciro jeopardise our future together.'

Novari moved close to him and pressed her hands to his chest. 'I can't let you endanger yourself like that! Is there no other way?'

'I wish there were,' Antus replied sullenly, hanging his head, 'but I can't see it, and time's ticking away.' He offered her a small, hopeful smile. 'You never know, he might not be even thinking about us, in which case I'll just be a loyal subordinate checking up on his boss. It might not come to...'

In contradiction of the paltry hope in his voice, Antus' hand reached over to a nearby dresser and picked up a pistol. He'd taken to carrying it ever since the geth attack but never in his worst nightmares had he thought he'd ever need to use it - particularly in this context.

Novari closed her eyes at the sight of it. She wrapped her arms around Antus and held him tightly.

'Please come back to me,' she whispered, fresh tears pooling on her eyelashes.

'I will,' he responded with certainty as he fixed the pistol to his belt. He placed his hands on Novari's shoulders and tenderly eased her away from him. 'I promise you, in just a few days we'll be putting all this behind us.'

It was an agony to let her go, but Antus took a deep breath and did so. His heart both ached and beat with nervous ferocity as he made his way to the front door, Novari's long stride keeping up with him easily.

'I'll be gone a while,' he said. 'I don't know how long this will take and I'll need to walk. I don't want to risk my shuttle ID getting picked up on the way. It's not too far but I'll need to keep to back alleys for most of the route to avoid C-Sec patrols. Just a precaution.'

He stopped to look back at the woman he loved. Novari's pale blue skin was ruddy and stained with silver paint, her face filled with fear but that only strengthened his resolve to spend every remaining moment of his life with her. It dawned on him that he would do anything to make that happen, and his body calmed in response. There was only one path his, their lives, would take now. All he had to do was walk upon it.

'Be careful, all right?' Novari implored.

Antus took one look back at her, aware that it may well be his last. 'Don't worry about me. Just keep an eye out for any messages from Huntress. With any luck, we'll be on a ship out of here by nightfall. Ready to begin our new life.'

The words had meant to be a comfort but instead they only served to remind both of them how high the stakes were. Antus tore his gaze from Novari, who could only watch the door close between them as she was left alone once more.

~~~ME-I2~~~

The ploy Arlen had chosen to try and escape the Kanderax meant contorting this body into positions unnatural for a turian. He walked alongside Callidus, his arms bound behind his back while she led him with a rough hand on his shoulder. He strained visibly against the restraints, or rather, to keep the pistol wedged squarely against her side whilst not allowing a sliver of light between their bodies. Their brisk pace completed the illusion, with none daring to interfere with a spec ops officer transporting her prisoner.

Arlen was forced to turn slightly to shield the weapon from the sight of any crew they passed, and he could only hope it looked natural. It was a long way to the shuttle hangar and to be caught would lead to a hostage situation from which he had no chance of walking away alive. This was hostile territory and Arlen almost wanted to smile ironically at the thought. What an insane place the galaxy must have been for him to consider a turian ship as enemy lines.

Progress was arduous as the pair scuffled and staggered through the Kanderax's enormous, white-lit flats. The constant hum of machinery surrounded them like the drone of an insect hive, pierced by the heavy clangs of doors opening and closing, and the dry, professional voice of the duty quartermaster as he made some announcement or another over the address system.

It was during a rare moment when their path was seemingly clear that Callidus muttered, 'You won't get away with this Kryik. This charade won't last forever.'

'I don't need it to last forever,' he snapped back, 'just until we're aboard a shuttle.' He twisted her cuffed arm behind his back, making her grunt in pain. 'You've got your own concerns, so I suggest you keep your eyes forward and focus on doing your part.'

Callidus scowled, though Arlen guessed that she showed the expression often. When she'd told her fellow Blackwatch comrades outside the cell that she was taking him to the hangar to hand him over to the team from Palaven personally, the other soldiers didn't speak a word of protest. An officer with a sharp tongue and a face like thunder was always something to be feared.

'Captain Callidus?' spoke an unfamiliar voice and Arlen groaned inwardly as a Blackwatch lieutenant emerged from a doorway not far ahead. The man's armour was perfectly clean and polished, its grey-patched panels gleaming under the white spotlights. His sandy-coloured mandibles twitched with good humour as he gestured at Arlen. 'Leaving so soon? I thought the support team was a few hours away, at least?'

Unconsciously, Arlen pressed the barrel of his pistol into Callidus' back, even though it was a futile gesture. She wouldn't have felt it under her armour, though he hoped the movement would be warning enough.

It seemed to work as a reply emerged, grating from her lips, 'They had volus intelligence assets in the vicinity. Figured they'd save time, I guess. I'm going over to meet them now.'

That was quick thinking. While turians relied a great deal on the volus for their subterfuge, the client race were not autonomous when it came to such things and any request for verification of Callidus' story would take time to go through the proper channels.

'Smart thinking,' the lieutenant said, unwittingly echoing Arlen's thoughts. 'I guess I shouldn't keep you.' He frowned, and Arlen tightened his grip on the unseen pistol. 'Hey, Tyra, you feeling all right? You look a little strung out.'

Callidus didn't answer immediately. Though Arlen couldn't appear to be paying too close attention, he knew she would be trying to send her fellow soldier some kind of signal. The longer she hesitated, the more obvious it would become that something was wrong. Something had to break the silence.

Arlen snarled as he heaved against her, shattering the tension with a guttural yell that he summoned straight from his time on the Purgatory. 'I swear I'll kill you, pig! As soon as I get out of here, I'm hunting you all down, you and your boyfriend here!'

To his relief, Callidus played along, using her free hand to pull him back by his collar. She managed a bitter grin at the lieutenant. 'Yeah, I'm just peachy, babysitting scum like this.'

Thankfully, the lieutenant chuckled and began on his way. 'It'll all be over soon. Remember, Skyllian Five in the mess tonight, you still coming?'

'Sure am,' she called out as Arlen renewed his struggle. 'Right after I'm done taking out this trash.'

The lieutenant was still laughing as they parted, and Arlen settled down once they were out of earshot. They had almost reached the shuttle bay at that point and he almost let hope rise that the plan was going to succeed.

'You're doing well,' he said softly.

'Screw you,' Callidus retorted.

Arlen hadn't expected any other response but he didn't care. Whether Callidus believed his claims of innocence was irrelevant, and as they stepped into the vast hangar that housed the Kanderax's fleet of shuttles, Arlen felt optimistic for the first time since his capture. The bay was several decks high, with landing pads for dozens of craft that even now flowed back and forth in a near constant stream. Supplies and personnel were being delivered to and from the Kanderax by the minute, and Arlen couldn't help but marvel at the perpetual cycle of logistics that kept a ship of its size running.

Ahead of them stretched five thick gantries, each with four platforms reaching out from them like the branches of a tree, stark white against the vivid blue mass effect field that shielded the mouth of the hangar. The closest landing pad held a shuttle, outside which a single sergeant stood with a datapad in hand, no doubt checking off cargo.

Callidus didn't need to be told that was their destination. As they approached, the sergeant looked up, his yellow eyes fixing on them immediately.

'Can I help you?' he asked harshly. The man's grey carapace was cracked and weathered, and his voice was hoarse with age. Arlen knew this one would be difficult to fool.

'Prisoner transfer,' Callidus replied smoothly. 'By order of Admiral Kaion.'

The sergeant ran his gaze over them cautiously. 'I wasn't informed. Hold on while I check with the bridge.'

The ruse had run its course, but Arlen would not be stopped now. His arm unfurled from behind his back and the sergeant gaped at the sight of the pistol now trained over his forehead. Arlen's other hand, still cuffed to that of Callidus, looped over her until her arm was wrapped around her own neck.

'I can't let you do that,' Arlen warned in a low, threatening tone. 'Now step away from the shuttle.'

'Don't listen to him!' Callidus rasped. 'He's too dangerous! You've got to warn-'

She choked as Arlen yanked on her wrist, drawing her arm even more tightly around her throat. The sergeant looked at her helplessly as Arlen's voice rose a fraction.

'Step away from the shuttle now, or you're both dead.'

The sergeant complied, edging away from the shuttle as Arlen dragged Callidus over and opened the main door. The craft was a standard combat model, squat and hardy, and the door lifted to reveal a spacious crew compartment. Arlen hauled Callidus inside before closing the door, paying no mind to the turian outside as he ran shouting for help.

Arlen wasted no time as he pushed Callidus through a small hatch to their right and into the cockpit.

'Fly,' he ordered curtly, ensuring the pistol remained at the edge of Callidus' vision as he spoke. 'Zakera Ward, level twenty-seven docks. Move it!'

Callidus obeyed, and the shuttle bay outside shifted rapidly, the cockpit instrumentation whining with several warnings at once as they took off without clearance. Callidus was forced to bank hard to the left to avoid an incoming cargo ship and Arlen ground his teeth as they passed through the kinetic field and out into space, the Kanderax issuing a screeching alarm at their backs as her prisoner made his escape.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Once again, Sarn found himself in the tattered, wind-blasted comm building of his compound but it had been far too long since the last time. Many days had passed since his last communication with Furia, days spent trying to keep his men in check as their impatience grew, and he knew better than most that restless batarians were difficult to control.

He walked without his usual complement of bodyguards, who had already been called to break up several fights that morning. Sarn usually prided himself on the discipline of his Crimson Fist, but the longer they were forced to put their plans on hold, the harder it became for them to simply sit still and do nothing.

The scratched burgundy paint of Sarn's armour strobed intermittently as he passed under small windows set high in the corridor. All that could be seen out of them was the morose crimson of Aratoht's sky, thick with dust. Sarn couldn't contain his hope that this comm call was to announce the recovery of the Titus-Seven and the advancement of the plot that would lead to his triumphant return to Khar'shan. He hated Aratoht's dust and grime, for all that the harsh conditions kept his people strong.

He passed an open doorway and immediately halted before taking a couple of backward steps to glower through it. It was a small room, dimly lit by a single lamp in the centre of the ceiling that flickered every few seconds. It threw its weak light on a battered old couch set in front of an even older vid screen, around which three of his men sat hunched, staring at what appeared to be broadcasts of the varren pit fights held frequently in the more active corners of Aratoht. The trio were deliberately trying to keep their voices down, and for good reason. All wore armour - and were therefore on duty.

'You!' Sarn snapped, thundering into the room. 'All three of you, on your feet! Now!'

The men - though Sarn was loath to call them such, as they were little more than boys - sprang to their feet, their faces awash with terror.

'A-apologies, Sir,' one of them stammered, 'We thought-'

'I don't want excuses!' Sarn interrupted. 'I want all of you slackers walking the perimeter! Count yourselves lucky that I'm letting you wear your helmets!'

The trio nodded gratefully and quickly scattered, leaving Sarn to grumble over the waning standards throughout the compound as he moved on. Boredom was a greater threat to a righteous cause than any amount of ships or soldiers.

He ignored the acknowledgements of the guards outside the comm room and entered without a word, standing in front of the main terminal projector. As before, the image it showed was not of any discernable person, and he knew instantly who had summoned him.

'Furia,' he greeted. 'What news do you have?'

'Much has happened since the T-Seven was stolen,' Furia answered, with as little emotion as Sarn had come to expect from her. 'Events have taken an unexpected direction. While the weapon is not lost yet, the agents we hired to procure it have failed in their efforts to retrieve it. Moreover, we now no longer consider the Destiny Ascension a viable target.'

Both sets of Sarn's brows creased deeply and his voice was a throaty roar. 'That's unacceptable, damn you! That ship was supposed to be destroyed! We had a deal!'

'The deal has been modified,' was the indifferent answer.

Sarn flexed his large hands by his sides, imagining what it would be like to wrap them around the windpipe of this treacherous serpent. He closed all of his eyes, his leathery nostrils flaring as he tried to keep his fury under control. Though he considered himself fearless, especially in the face of those too cowardly to show their faces, he knew Furia was dangerous enough not to underestimate her.

'And in what way,' he breathed, 'has it been modified?'

'In a way that I believe will suit you.'

Sarn spread his arms in annoyance. 'Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?'

'Tell me, Kurak, how much political currency was the Destiny Ascension worth to the Hegemony? Enough to buy a minor post on Khar'shan, where you can spend the rest of your days playing petty power games, frustrated by your peers' inability or unwillingness to prosecute your war against the Council?'

Sarn's expression became tight with suspicion. Though he knew Furia was well aware of his ambition to put himself back in the Hegemony's good graces, he hadn't anticipated she would predict his path so accurately. In truth, he'd never completely believed her assurances that destroying the Destiny Ascension would be a path to rulership of the batarian government. He had far too many enemies back home to make that a true possibility.

'Yes,' he admitted slowly. 'Yes, that's probably true.' He narrowed all four of his eyes. 'Are you saying you can give me more?'

'I cannot speak for your government, but even I know that real power matters far more than a mere symbol or action far from the eyes of your people.'

Sarn controlled his irritation at Furia's reticence. 'And what is this "real power" you speak of? What would we have to do to get it?'

'An opportunity will soon present itself, and to take full advantage of it will require every man you can muster. The risk will be great but the prize is too great to ignore. I wonder, if the destruction of the Destiny Ascension would have been enough to put you back in the Hegemony's good graces, then how much power will you have with a turian super-dreadnought at your command?'

Sarn's lips spread into a cruel smile. 'The Kanderax.'

'Yes. I can give it to you. How many on Khar'shan would dare to stand against you with such a vessel under your control?'

'They will join me out of fear,' he murmured, trying in vain to quell his growing excitement as his eyes danced with images of the strongest batarian fleet in his people's history. 'The army, the navy, all will see our new strength. Enough to finally wipe the humans from the galaxy.' Eventually, his gaze returned to the hologram. 'Why offer me this now? Why not before?'

'The captain of the Kanderax has displeased me greatly. He has also made crucial errors that will soon leave his ship exposed. Ready your people, Kurak Sarn. Follow my instructions to the letter and you will have power, real power, at last.'

Furia ended the call and Sarn was left standing in a dark room once more. To his surprise, he found himself shaking with anticipation. He did not trust Furia, but she had given Crimson Fist much so far, clearing their paths to inflict justice on the humans across the galaxy. If it hadn't been for her, they would not have stood a chance of reaching their target on Thessia.

Sarn turned to depart, his mind ablaze with possibilities. The most powerful ship in the galaxy in the hands of his people - in his hands - would bring a new future for the batarians. The balance of power would finally shift in their favour, and he would be revered as a living god of war for his achievements. The title made him grin as he left to rouse the Crimson Fist for battle once again.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Kim's eyes widened at the report on her terminal. The maelstrom of noise and activity in the command centre was reduced to a hush, as if she'd been plunged into a deep pool of water. Her eyes ran over the message more than once and she lifted her head hesitantly, her red ponytail bobbing with the motion, even in its frayed state. She moved her lips but indecision stole the words from them.

Everyone was busy. The tiers were flickers of shadow against orange as staff constantly moved to and fro in front of their terminals. Their voices were like the steady rumble of a drive core, feeding the determined energy of the place, though Kim longed for just one of her colleagues to catch her eye. Mike and Ket were buried in their own work, and Lorica was hunched over the former's desk, immersed in the latest readings from their worm in the asari embassy network. Lina had been dragged into her office to answer a call from Executor Pallin, so she couldn't be disturbed.

Kim took a deep breath. This couldn't wait. She got up and headed for Lorica, though the asari didn't notice her approach.

'Run it again,' the team lead told Mike, her voice barely above a whisper. 'I don't care if it increases risk of detection, we're way beyond that now. It's likely enough that whoever we're after knows we're in there…'

'Lorica,' Kim announced gently. Now she'd had a few moments to digest the message, she wasn't sure if its contents should be widely known just yet. Still, Lorica hadn't heard her, and after an anxious glance about, Kim forced urgency into her voice. 'Lieutenant.'

The mention of Lorica's rank, rarely used between them, snatched the asari's attention immediately. 'Yeah?'

'You need to see this.'

With a sudden look of concern, Lorica left to follow Kim back to her desk. The human thumped back into her seat and nodded to her terminal. 'I've been helping Mike handle surveillance of the other divisions' efforts to find Novari. They're still not convinced the embassy explosion was a deliberate attack, so they're not treating her as a suspect for now.'

'Not to mention her diplomatic status,' Lorica sighed. 'The executor probably wants her handled with kid gloves, if he even knows what's going on. If that shuttle exploded outside the volus and elcor embassy, at least he'd have heard it from his office.'

'You don't really think everyone's trying to keep Pallin out of the loop, do you?' Kim asked worriedly.

Lorica tried to give her a reassuring smile but it was half-hearted. 'Never mind that, what was it you wanted to show me?'

'Well, I've been scanning interdivisional comms and they all went nuts around the same time Lina was called into her office. An arrest warrant's been issued to all sectors, and it's not for Novari.'

Lorica rolled her eyes. 'Then who, Kim? Come on, I'm right in the middle of-'

'Look at the name,' Kim said sharply.

Lorica frowned as she leaned closer, peering at the scrawl of text on Kim's display. Her mouth opened in shock, a whisper escaping it unconsciously.

'Arlen Kryik.'

Kim up looked at her. 'This came straight from the executor. Arlen's an official suspect in the T-Seven theft and he just broke out of custody on the Kanderax. Thanks to that, they're now considering him the prime suspect.'

Lorica shook her head in disbelief. 'Broke out of custody? When the hell was he in custody? When were the turian military going to tell us they arrested one of our agents?'

'He's not officially one of ours,' Kim stated, before adding sombrely, 'And his commanding officer's been missing for several days now. If they sought authorisation, it would've been from Executor Pallin himself.'

'Damn it,' Lorica spat, shaking her head again. 'What a freakin' mess. Pallin might know about everything.' She looked up to the edge of the command centre, to where Lina emerged from her office and began to climb down the stairs leading up to it. Lorica's lips pursed together. 'Hold on. I'm going to speak to the commander. In the meantime, keep this to yourself, okay?'

She didn't see Kim nod as she rose and headed down the central ramp, catching up with Lina just as the quarian reached the command dais.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Lina knew the look in Lorica's eyes well. They had been through far too much together to keep any secrets from one another, and Lina had seen that sparkle of desperation in her friend's gaze too many times to ignore it. Moreover, she knew better than to think her helmet and suit would hide anything from her.

'It was about Arlen, wasn't it?' Lorica asked quietly.

Lina felt the same wave of nausea overtake her then just as it had when Pallin had broken the news himself. At least the executor had only been a red-hued projection against the darkness of her office, and Lina knew he couldn't see how her hands had twisted together, knotting in abject fear as he detailed the charges against Arlen in full.

'Executor Pallin has ordered us to scramble all assets to assist in his arrest,' she murmured distantly. 'It just doesn't make any sense, Arlen has been nowhere near Palaven this past year. I checked his case logs, he's only left the Citadel twice, both on assignment. Pallin knows that, so why's he going along with this?'

'I know this stinks,' Lorica offered, 'but Arlen hasn't helped things. Lina, he's taken a hostage, a turian soldier. I don't believe the charges any more than you do but he's putting us in an impossible situation.'

'A turian soldier?' Lina snorted. 'The turian military is already complicit in all of this, Ferrata acknowleged as much.'

Lorica's expression hardened, and her whispered response hissed with impatience. 'I know, but testimony extracted under illegal torture from a man who was murdered under our watch isn't exactly going to help here!'

Lina wasn't listening. Even the memories of that horrific deed that had kept her from sleep and haunted her waking moments were pushed aside by another recollection, of words spilling from bruised, swollen turian lips.

'His blood is suspect,' she repeated, looking back to Lorica. 'One of the last things Ferrata said was that Arlen's "blood was suspect". We assumed it was his family, but what if he meant the DNA that was used to steal the T-Seven?'

Lorica again gave her a look of agitation. 'Lina, it doesn't matter now! This arrest warrant was signed off on by Pallin himself, he's called every division in on this. We can't sit this one out!'

Behind Lina's visor, spotted with the warm luminance of hundreds of distant terminals, her eyes narrowed visibly. 'You can't be suggesting we turn a blind eye to all this!' She gestured wildly. 'After everything Arlen's done, after everything he's been through to find that bomb, you want us to betray him? Knowing that these charges are false, knowing that there's someone in the turian ranks working against us?'

Lorica stared back, unrepentant and seemingly unable to stop her voice from rising. 'I'm suggesting we remember that we're C-Sec, and we can't keep breaking the damn rules! We've already done enough to have Pallin tear this place apart, it's a miracle he's not kicking down our door as we speak! Please, Lina, don't make this any worse!'

Lina's lungs heaved, all the anger she'd felt at Lorica's previous accusations returning a hundredfold. Her chest pushed against the confines of her suit and all the sickness she felt before was now a hard lump inside her, burning away all of her doubts.

'Disregard the warrant,' she said. 'That's an order.'

She turned away to ascend the dais ramp, feeling the urgent stamping of angry footsteps behind her.

'Goddess, Lina, you can't be serious.'

Lina's eyes grew wide as Lorica gripped her arm, forcing her to turn around and face her. The asari's face was a picture of shock and fear, such as Lina hadn't seen since the Forgotten Legion crisis.

'Please tell me you're not serious!'

Lina feigned indignance as she snatched her arm away. She had to feign it, because there was only sorrowful understanding as she looked into the pained, shimmering gaze of her closest friend. The feeling warred against that knot of rage she was trying to nurture, trying to break it down, but it was no use. She needed that anger. Arlen needed her to keep it.

The look she returned to Lorica was her answer, as was the way she folded her arms, if only to stop them shaking. The two women glared at each other across the command dais, and more than a few heads rose from their terminals to nervously watch the exchange. The scrutiny was lost on both of them.

'I already said, more than once,' Lina began firmly, 'that I will accept full responsibility for any wrongdoing.'

'And I already reminded you that it's not that simple,' Lorica shot back. She let out a small, incredulous laugh. 'Goddess, you're really doing it, aren't you? You're selling us all out for him, just as I said you would.'

Lina's patience was fraying and her reply was rough with contempt. 'I'll tell you what I'm not doing, and that's participating in this charade, this farce of justice. This turian insider, they stole the T-Seven and handed it over to Crimson Fist. They had Arlen's commander in their pocket, not only to abuse his position by colluding with the batarians, not only by concealing something from Arlen about the people he was chasing, but by actually framing him for taking the bomb to begin with.'

She took a pointed step towards Lorica, bringing her close enough for the asari to feel the breath flowing hot from her respirator.

'I'm not going to turn a blind eye to it all. Not for you, not for Pallin, not for anyone in the galaxy.'

'The bomb's gone, Lina,' Lorica said, so quietly that Lina could barely hear her. 'For all we know, a turian black ops team was responsible for stealing it back on Bekenstein and it's already back in friendly hands, even if they're not ours. Arlen's chasing shadows here and so are you. I get it, there's something bigger going on but damn it, how far are you going to go before you realise you're in way over your head?'

It was an admittance of defeat that Lina had long held off proclaiming, even to herself. No matter the truth of the words, hearing them wiped away whatever sympathy she'd begun to feel. She would never give up - not because of her job, or her team, but because she'd never surrendered hope even once. There was always a way forward, whether it was in a cramped, freezing shipping crate out of Noveria or taking Pallin's offer to work off her fraud sentence as a hacking specialist in C-Sec. Nobody was going to stop her.

Lorica's gaze did not waver, and neither did Lina's. Both searched for something, anything to take the fraught edge away from the moment but the iron-hard resolve that both showed said everything that needed to be said. There would be no compromise this time.

Most in the command centre now listened intently, wrought with tension as the two most experienced, capable and highest-ranking personnel in JSTF stood off against one another. No one dared intervene.

It was almost with resignation that Lina spoke again, breaking the silence. 'If you want to run away now, after we've come this far, that's your choice. I won't try to stop you. Just don't expect me to come with you.'

'That's all you've got to say?' Lorica's features had shifted subtly into a mask of simmering anger. 'After everything we've been through? After all the secrets, all the lies, it all comes down to "my way or the highway"?'

Lina's silence was answer enough. It was one that tore at the commander's heart, even though it was like clawing at a diamond with bare hands; ineffectual in spite of its ferocity. That alone seemed to bring a ragged breath out of Lorica, and Lina was surprised to see tears lining her eyes.

'All this shit,' she muttered, and her lips twisted into a sneer. 'You're no better than Chellick.'

Lina's hand moved, far too quickly for either woman to realise what was happening until it was too late.

The smack resounded through the room, the suit material of Lina's open palm making it sound much harder than she'd intended, but the violet patch left on the skin of Lorica's cheek was plain to see. The blow rocked her head to the side, but the asari was slow to return her eyes to Lina. The look on her face made Lina's lips part behind her mouth lamp.

It was an expression worn by many in the command centre. Everyone was paralysed with shock, and it made Lorica's next action all the more pronounced.

She turned swiftly on her heels, striding briskly down from the dais and straight up the central ramp that led to the exit. She ignored the stunned looks from everyone she passed, including that of Kim, who stood up at her desk with her mouth agape. Perhaps the young human wanted to shout out some plea for Lorica to stay, but she clearly couldn't summon the words.

If only to drown out the all too loud noise of Lorica's footsteps as they echoed from beyond the top of the ramp, Lina's voice cracked out like a whip.

'Get back to work, all of you. The show's over.'

There was a genuine ripple of hesitance throughout the sea of analysts as they settled back down. No one was comfortable with that they'd just witnessed and Lina knew she couldn't control the whispers that now flowed back and forth between the tiers. She turned her back to them, staring at the main screen without seeing anything shown on it. The heat of their eyes on her back felt like it would burn through her exo-suit and she tried to block it all out.

She was thankful no one could see the shining tear that trailed down her face, glinting brightly under her visor. That precious anger that had fuelled her only moments before was bleeding away, and the consequences of her decision were now spoken of freely by the entire task force.

Lina let out a shuddering breath. She prayed silently to her ancestors - something she hadn't done since childhood - that it would all be worth it in the end. She had traded one friend for another that day, and it was one of the worst choices she had ever been forced to make.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Light trickled in from somewhere, piercing through the darkness Ciro Tessarius had slipped into. Ever since he heard about the asari embassy explosion and shortly after receiving a frantic order from Councillor Sparatus to close their own for the time being, he had sunk into a heavy malaise that now had the old turian prostrate on his couch.

The curtains had been drawn over the balcony window, cutting out the light of the Presidium, though his main vid screen still blazed on the far wall with Citadel News Network's coverage of the incident. Ciro had fallen asleep waiting for news that C-Sec had found Eris, but even through the fog of miserable exhaustion that gripped him he could tell there had been no progress. Their pessimism had infected him, though in his heart he knew that she would've contacted him if she'd survived.

His tears had long dried but still his heart wept for her. Only hours ago, she'd pressed her lips to his and for the first time since his wife's death, Ciro had felt truly complete. Eris had broken the listless automation of a life gone stale, bringing a happiness Ciro had thought he'd never see again. Then, in a heartbeat, she was gone and he was left with something worse than emptiness.

His eyes opened just enough to make them sting in the harsh light of the screen. The room was blurry and grey, and he had no interest in anything within it. There was nothing that could rouse Ciro from that black despair, and he'd been through it enough before to know. More than for himself, he grieved for the galaxy, that they would not know such a promising and vibrant young maiden as Eris. She would have been nothing but a positive influence on the galactic community and her loss made the galaxy a worse place. The unfairness of it all was every bit as painful as the fact he would never hear her laugh again, or look into her eyes, or enjoy the warmth of her conversation.

Ciro blinked as on the via screen, blue and black shapes moved beyond the human reporter as she spoke to the camera. He recognised them as Citadel Security officers.

C-Sec.

He dimly recalled Eris' words, suggesting he go to them about Antus. Ciro didn't know if his assistant was involved in any of this senseless violence, but his mind latched onto the idea nonetheless. Eris had been worried that she'd stumbled onto something, and now she was dead. It was too much to be a coincidence.

Slowly, Ciro pushed himself up and climbed to his feet. He tried to force aside his sorrow and focus on what he needed to do. He paid no mind to his appearance, not even stopping to straighten out the creases in his suit. Such things were the furthest from his thoughts as his resolve grew to see justice done. Feeling a surge of purpose, he lifted his head. The oaken hues of his carapace almost glowed golden in the shadows, and his eyes fixed on the screen, on the C-Sec personnel working to make sense of it all. If he could help them do that, then he would spend all his remaining strength in aid of their investigation.

For her, he told himself.

Ciro strode over to the front door, his mind awhirl with plans. He didn't know whether to just show up at the nearest C-Sec precinct, find a beat officer, turn up at the embassy crime scene or even seek an audience with the executor himself. He'd never interacted with C-Sec in any capacity other than signing off on new recruits imported from the Hierarchy.

He almost didn't notice the door open, and nearly missed the pistol pointing at him from the other side.

His gaze sharpened on the barrel, into a hole so dark that it seemed it would suck him in. He then saw who was wielding the weapon and opened his lips to let out a single, whispered word.

'You...'

The shot came, a sharp bang that cut out all other sounds. Ciro stumbled back as slug after slug tore into his body, until he collapsed back into a ragged, bleeding pile in the hall. More shots came, but they were not needed. The light had already left Ciro's eyes, and his body was shrouded in shadow once more as the door slid shut.