Act III: Hunted
Two – Prey

Liara joined Jondum in the cockpit as the Plain Dealer climbed out of Intai'sei's arid skies, her hand instinctively going to the cockpit's gunnels to steady herself when the artificial gravity kicked in. The Salarian's fingers darted across the cockpit interface as he silently plotted a course for Argos Rho's mass relay. They slowly climbed above the orbital plane of the Phoenix System, and then banked into an extended burn to reach FTL speeds. Before long, the ship was racing through the interstellar medium of the cluster.

Jondum kept silent for the first minute of the burn, then turned to Liara and regarded her approvingly. "You did a good job of running – a relative backwater of a cluster, a system without a direct link to the relay network, a planet without a permanent fleet presence, and a complex sufficiently isolated from Thoreau Mesa."

"It wasn't good enough," Liara responded simply. "The Broker still found me."

"An inevitably. It's a question of when, rather than if. Still, you chose well, even if the sentimentality of the place was perhaps an error."

"I went to the last place I felt connected to. I have no interest in being a fugitive forever."

"Doctor, you became a fugitive the moment you disrupted the Shadow Broker's most important operation in years."

"So what do we do now?"

"That will depend." Jondum engaged the ship's autopilot and wandered back to the ship's den, perching himself on the workspace's chair as Liara sat on the bed. "Whoever's been sent after you has been ordered to be relentless, and likely is by nature – wherever we go, he'll eventually find us. I'd like to know more about the character of our pursuer, but we're unfortunately in the dark unless my old colleagues in STG can dig anything up."

"I think we can make a few conjectures," Liara replied. "He didn't engage further once you showed up, which suggests that he's cautious enough not to be drawn into a firefight that he's unlikely to win."

"Astute observation. We've also both learned that he enjoys toying with his prey – the pursuit is a game in itself." Liara regarded him curiously, so he continued. "We spoke briefly on Alingon – he ostensibly wanted to see the one who had caused the Broker so much trouble. No doubt I was some sort of battle trophy for his own amusement."

"Judging from the voice, I'd say he was either Human or Turian."

"The former," Jondum indicated, "And one who's clearly seen his share of war. Referred to himself as Carlos on Intai'sei. But beyond that, we don't know a great deal."

Liara's gaze went to the array of screens behind Jondum. "Would Feron's data-feeds have anything of value?"

He shook his head. "Thought of that when I reached the Hydra system. Access to the Broker's feeds has been cut – to be expected, but it was worth a try."

Liara found Jondum's piercing gaze fixed back at her, his brow furrowed with a knowing look. "There's something you should know." Her head drooped until she was looking at the ship's floor. "I gave Shepard's body to Cerberus."

"I know, Doctor." There was no anger or scorn in his voice – merely an accepting resignation. "Carlos informed me of that when I was still tied to a chair. Can I ask why?"

Liara felt herself choke up, though she managed to hold back the tears as she spoke. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of giving him up – not when there was the chance of bringing him back."

Jondum looked at her curiously. "Salarians don't generally experience romantic love – we're not biologically hardwired to do so. But I can certainly appreciate its hypnotic power."

She regarded him coolly. "You think I erred."

Jondum shrugged. "My position has not changed. I hope for your sake and mine that I am proven wrong."

"You worked with them, and I don't trust them anymore than you do."

"I worked with them because I kept one piece of advice in mind." He rose from his chair and crouched in front of Liara, his face moving in close until they were almost touching. "The Illusive Man is always thinking two moves ahead. If you want to get the better of him, you'll have to think three or four."


The Plain Dealer dropped out of FTL as it entered the Hydra system, its scanners searching for a comm buoy as Jondum brought the ship into orbit around Canrum. Hydra was a backwater, and the ship was slow to patch into the Citadel's communications network. Both Jondum and Liara eyed the comms readouts apprehensively, waiting for their link to the galaxy beyond to be restored.

"For an information broker, Feron's comms tech is shit."

Liara was inclined to agree.

The readout flared to life, data flowing across the cockpit bubble as their telemetry and spatial data was refreshed. "There we go. Now to see whether Wiks has anything." Jondum brought up the comms unit on his omnitool patching through to the STG HQ on Sur'kesh.

The cockpit's interface reoriented itself into a large screen, and the face of another Salarian quickly materialized in front of them. His skin was darker than Jondum's, an auburn-brown burnished with bronze from Sur'kesh's tropical heat. Clan tattoos interwove with one another down the ridges of his horns and onto his upper jaw, giving him a distinct, barbarian-like look.

"Bau, it's good to hear from you again."

"Likewise." Jondum gestured to her, "this is Doctor Liara T'Soni, formerly of the SSV Normandy. Liara, this is Padok Wiks of Salarian intelligence."

Wiks tilted his head to Liara and quickly nodded, before turning back to face Jondum. "There wasn't a great deal in our intel networks – a few references in STG mission reports and one counterintelligence briefing from a redacted incident two years ago."

Jondum frowned. "That seems odd."

"Not entirely. We've had very few interactions with the Broker's network, largely because my superiors just don't see the point – no need to send the organization credits when we're just as likely to find it ourselves." Wiks regarded Jondum and Liara for a moment, and then continued. "Fortunately, the description rang a bell to a colleague in Espionage." His eyes darted to Liara, a skeptical scowl creeping across his face. "Can she be briefed?"

Jondum nodded.

"A bit of digging in the Alliance's networks turned up something. We're still piecing together a fuller picture, but here's what we have so far: your person of interest is named Carlos Ramires Sanchez. Born in the Sol system in 2141 – Mars, from what records we could find. Served twelve years in the Alliance, specializing in solo reconnaissance and kill missions. Honourably discharged a little over ten years ago, at which point he falls off the Systems Alliance grid."

"And anything else?"

"He reappears in their intelligence analysis about six years ago. On Anhur. During the rebellions."

"Fuck," Jondum said simply. The very mention of the planet's name conjured images of horror, of striking miners gunned down in the hundreds by corporate security drones, of slaves whose bones could no longer support them on standard gravity worlds struggling to walk without concussing themselves, of rich fields running blue and red with oceans of blood. "Which side?"

"Somewhat unclear. We've found reports that reference his activity among both the Na'hesit and Eclipse-aligned factions."

"And afterwards?"

"We're still piecing together the years in between, but all the signs of the Broker's network are there – you know them as well as I do, Bau."

"Anything on his habits?"

"Only that he's thorough – perhaps even more thorough than Tazzik. If I had to guess, I'd say he's a weapon of last resort for the Broker's network – cleans up messes that no one else can. But that's purely speculative – we're still digging, but solid info is proving difficult even for us."

"Noted. Keep looking as you're able, and forward us anything you find."

Liara's heart sank as Jondum deactivated the link. They had precious more information than when they'd left Intai'sei, and were no closer to piecing together a reliable picture of their pursuer. Information is power, the Broker had said.

"Not much," Jondum observed, "but more than we had before."

"Not enough, I'd say. But I'm believing less and less in the concept of 'enough'." She turned to face Jondum. "Any ideas?"

"We're not going to turn up more data on our own. Wiks has access to two hundred times the intel that we do, and even he's hard-pressed to find more."

"So we work with what we have. We know that he's cautious, and that he specializes in advanced kill missions – in many ways, we're his ideal target," Liara thought aloud as she pieced together their scraps of information in her head. "Which means that it will be nearly impossible to get the drop on him."

"My thoughts exactly. Any plan that involves us seizing the initiative is either foolish or suicidal –very probably both."

"We also know that he won't be operating alone – there were a dozen mercenaries with him on Intai'sei-"

"-which complicates our survival odds, but also lessens the chance that we're taken completely by surprise when he finds us." Jondum furrowed his brow as he looked at Liara. "Packs of mercenaries don't tend to be subtle."

"So what are you suggesting? That we let him find us?"

"He will without us letting him."

"Then we let him find us in the place of our choosing."

The Salarian quickly raised and lowered eyelids with excitement. "Precisely. But it can't be obvious – he'll never bite if he believes he's being led into a trap."

"When I was on the Normandy, Garrus was fond of saying that a trap was only trap if you walked into it before you saw it."

"He's not wrong."

"So we need to go somewhere where we'll be found, but not a place that looks like an ambush. So somewhere that we'll be found organically, where his cautious mind will be at ease." Liara smirked as she looked back at Jondum. "My question is where that place could possibly be."

"And that is the pertinent question," the Salarian replied. "Too obvious and we'll spook him off. Not obvious enough and we'll be right back where we started, with no idea of when or where Ramires will find us." He glanced at the Plain Dealer's starmap as they approached the system's Mass Relay.

The embers of a thought kindled in the back of Liara's mind. "I think we need to go to a Human system." The curiosity resplendent in Jondum's eyes made her keep going. "That's where I screwed up on Intai'sei: if I'd gone to an Asari system, it would have taken the Broker weeks to trace me – like trying to find an omnitool in an omnitool warehouse. But on a human planet – even a remote one – I stuck out. They didn't have to look for a fugitive – they just had to look for the lone Asari that showed up in a Human system in the past week."

She could see Jondum tossing the idea over in his head, examining it for flaws and weaknesses. She was shocked when he concurred. "It's a good plan. You are right – we'll stand out more on a Human planet than outside of Alliance space."

Her heart sank as another thought occurred to her. "But that complicates the second part – how do we go to a Human system without it being obvious that we're going there to be found?"

Jondum didn't wait for her to finish. He swivelled in the cockpit's chair to face the starmap displayed over the ship's bubble canopy. His nimble fingers reached for the ship's navigation interface, his face seemingly blank as his mind raced.

"I have an idea."

Arcturus Station - Six Hours Later

The warships of the Alliance capital fleet dwarfed the Plain Dealer as Jondum nestled the ship into the docking bay of Arcturus Station. From the bubble of the cockpit, Liara could see the core of the Second, Third, and Fifth fleets arrayed around them. Even after the heavy losses sustained in the fight against Sovereign, it was a sight to behold: in the distance, the hulls of another two dreadnoughts sat in the Alliance shipyards, their rising frames a buzz of activity as their immense forms took shape. The station itself was enormous – a five-kilometer ring flanked by two wings of docking bays, shipyards, and repair facilities, with enough berths to simultaneously dock three of the Alliance's five fleets. To the Alliance, Arcturus was everything: it housed their general command staff, their parliament, the core of their interstellar bureaucracy, and was the logistical hub of the entire sector. To Liara, it was another inscrutable mystery in her flight from the Broker's agents.

"Why are we here?" she asked Jondum as he disengaged the ship's thrusters and relinquished control to the automated docking sequences.

"I have a hunch that needs investigating."

She felt the ship connect with the airlock corridor, felt her ears pop as the Plain Dealer's interior pressure synchronized with the atmosphere of Arcturus. Holstering her weapons, she followed Jondum out the airlock and into the station's interior. The docking bays in this part of the station were narrow, designed for smaller craft, and the walls closed in claustrophobically around her. Ahead of them, four Alliance marines stood at attention, their weapons drawn as they regarded her and Jondum coolly.

"Non-Alliance personnel. Here without authorization or clearance. Who are you?"

"Jondum Bau, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance," Jondum opened his omnitool and held it out for the marine to scan. "And Dr. Liara T'Soni, formerly of the SSV Normandy. You'll find that we have clearance to be here."

The marine scowled at them both, but then reluctantly gestured to her comrades to let them pass. "They do; let them through."

The narrow corridor of the docking bay led them to a larger containment area, where the crew of several Alliance freighters were preparing to muster out. Liara and Jondum must have been the only non-Humans on the station, and both attracted stares as they walked past the group of pilots, deckhands, guards, and mechanics that were gathered in the staging area and towards the station's internal tramway system. His back to her as they entered the shuttle, Jondum scanned the station's directory in silence, his focus intent on finding what he was looking for.

"Where are we going, Bau? To speak with Hackett?"

"Hopefully not," the Salarian scoffed. "I doubt he'd take too kindly to my being here – as I understand it, he disliked the last time a non-human Spectre decided to go rummaging around Alliance headquarters."

"But you have clearance."

"Just because they're obliged to let us in does not mean they're happy about it. Relations with the Turians have defrosted in the last few months, but there's still a lot of mistrust and enmity there. And they suspect – correctly – that their intelligence networks are crawling with Salarian assets."

"So if not Hackett, why are we here?"

"The Alliance keeps physical copies of nearly all of its personnel records on Arcturus Station. We need information about Carlos Ramires; we need information about Shepard. Both of those will be here, and I don't trust Salarian intelligence to be free of infiltration from the Broker."

"Is that a common problem?"

"Getting rarer – we're generally quite good at catching Broker assets, but it still takes time. If your trap is to work, it has to look natural."

The shuttle took them out of the docking arm of the station and into the enormous ring-shaped structure that formed the hub of the station. Where the Citadel's Presidium was an oasis amidst the void, Arcturus's interior was the triumph of function over form. Blocks of grey, modular buildings sat in gridded patterns across the ground, stretching across the hub of the station towards the ring's far walls. To Liara, they were nondescript – all clearly designed by military bureaucrats. A lone building to her left stood out from the others – an enormous dome, its entrance flanked by twin lines of Romanesque columns and the walkway tiled in the same burgundy-red as the Alliance insignia.

She turned to Jondum. "Government or military?"

"Alliance Parliament – the seat of their government. And a place increasingly dominated by Terra Firma humanists. Not a place you or I would be very welcome at the moment."

The shuttle sped past the Parliament and shifted onto one of the lower trackways on the station, winding around the outer edge of the station's ring and downward to the street level. It deposited them in front of a descending staircase in the midst of the station's bustling crowds of Alliance personnel. Here the uniforms were cleaner, the greys and blacks of enlisted personnel replaced by the navy blues of the Alliance Navy's officer corps. All of them stared as Jondum and Liara exited the shuttle and walked down the stairs into the Alliance's personnel data archive.

For all that Arcturus prioritized function over form, the atrium of the data archive didn't feel military. To Liara, it had the ambience of a bank on Bekenstein or Illium, the walls a perfectly reflective black with minimalist lighting. Data terminals lined the semicircle wall, their glow barely penetrating the room's stillness. Two officers staffed the desk along the far wall, and registered no acknowledgement as Jondum and Liara approached them.

"It's not common for non-humans to wander freely around Arcturus Station," the one to Liara's left noted. "Even rarer for them to come to this part of the station."

Quickly suppressing the urge to be flustered, Liara regarded them coolly, keeping her tone measured as she transferred her identification to their omnitools. "Dr. Liara T'Soni. I served on board the SSV Normandy under the command of John C. Shepard."

The officer to Liara's right's eyes widened in recognition. "Our apologies, doctor. How may we help you?"

"We want to see Shepard's personnel records."

"You can access them through one of the terminals behind you," the one on the right told her. "Your omnitool now gives you the necessary clearance."

Jondum stopped her as she made to leave the desk. "I'm afraid data retrieval won't suffice. We'd like to see the original, please."

"Can't," the one on the left replied. "Those records are sealed to almost all Alliance personnel, let alone non-Alliance ones."

Glaring across the desk, Jondum typed several commands into his omnitool. "I think you'll find that we have all the clearance we need."

Both officers' brows furrowed as they looked at the transferred information. "Fuck, another one of you?" Sighing, the one on the right punched them through. "Fine, you're clear to go."

The second officer led them back into the data archive's hub, walking them through row upon row of server stacks. The archive was incomprehensibly vast – glowing server hubs seemed to stretch onward in all directions, the black reflective tiling of the walls magnifying the sense of infinity. The officer led them through the archive's labyrinth, eventually bringing them to a tower of computer drives in the far corner of the chamber. They retrieved one of the data modules, tinkering with its circuitry for a moment before handing it to Jondum. The Salarian regarded the module curiously, turning it over in his hands to study its intricacies. "You keep such precious data remarkably analogue."

"Information is power. We ensure that as few people as possible have access to these files."

"Then how does the Alliance maintain its internal human intelligence?"

"Officers are cleared to access the files of personnel under their direct command – no one more."

Jondum was silent as he parsed through the module's data, transferring its contents to his and Liara's omnitools. "How detailed are the files?"

"How detailed do you need? Birthplace, living kin, service record, relevant physical and mental evaluations."

Jondum scrolled through the data once, nodded in satisfaction, and closed his omnitool. "Many thanks, officer. I do believe we're done here."

"Wait," Liara stopped him. "We need to see another set of records – someone who's no longer with the Alliance."

The officer furrowed his brow, scowling at them both. "That's a tall ask."

"Not one you can refuse, though," Liara retorted. "We need the personnel file of Carlos Ramires Sanchez. Born human-year 2141, honourably discharged in the early-mid 2170s."

"Why do you need to see his files?"

"He's trying to kill us," Jondum said simply.

Gritting his teeth, the officer exhaled slowly. "The file will be retrieved for you. However, given that neither of you served alongside him, you will have to return to the lobby. The file will be transferred to you when it is located."

Liara took a step towards him. "In full?"

"In full."

The floor lit up beneath them, the lights patterned to guide them back to the entrance. The officer regarded them coolly as they followed them out of the server hub, his gaze not leaving them until they were well out of view.

"Liara, what do you possibly expect to find in that personnel file?"

"What did you expect to find in Shepard's?"

"Information."

"As do I. This is the closest to the source we'll get without asking him. I want everything we can possibly find – every record of service, every judgment by his superiors, every medical record. I want to know who's trying to kill us."

They stepped out of the data vaults to find an escort waiting for them. Six officers flanked the atrium, each with their weapon borne across their chest at attention. The archive's attendants had seemingly disappeared, either dismissed by their superiors or vanished into the labyrinth of the archive. As Liara's gaze adjusted to the light of the doorway, she discerned a seventh figure descending the steps into the atrium.

Vice-Admiral Hackett.

"Doctor T'Soni," he said simply. "Your presence here is unexpected." His gaze went to Jondum, who now wore the flattest expression Liara had ever seen. "As is yours."

"Admiral," Liara began. "What do you want with us?"

"As you can probably imagine, non-Humans are rare on Arcturus. Particularly when they're uninvited." He regarded them both skeptically. "In plain language, what the hell are you two doing here?"

Liara opted for honesty. "Someone is trying to kill us, Admiral. Someone who used to be in the Alliance. We're trying to find out as much about them as possible."

Hackett eyed her skeptically. "And why would an ex-Alliance officer be trying to kill you?"

"He's in the service of the Shadow Broker," Jondum responded. "Your team never found Shepard's body, Admiral. You didn't because the Broker beat you to it."

"The Broker?" Hackett was visibly shocked. "What does the Broker want with a corpse?"

Liara opted to lie, hoping it would buy them both enough time to get off Arcturus unmolested. "We aren't entirely sure. But his body was recovered, and put far beyond the Broker's clutches." Her gaze met Hackett's, the desperation plain in her eyes. "But the Broker's vengeance is furious and far-reaching, Admiral," she opted for the truth this time, "and we wanted information on our pursuer."

Hackett exhaled loudly, his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching as he ran this over in his mind. "And neither of you thought to simply ask? Doctor, you're a respected former crew member of the Normandy. You should have asked."

"We like Alliance red tape even less than you do," Jondum shot back. "Time is of the essence. We narrowly avoided our assassin on Intai'sei, and the Broker's reach is long."

"I don't like it," Hackett said simply. "I can't stop you from taking the data, but I can tell you that you've worn out your welcome. Officers," he gestured to the six armoured figures flanking him. "Please escort Doctor T'Soni and Jondum Bau back to their ship."

The officers complied, leading them out of the data archive's dark interior. As they stepped into the open air of Arcturus, both Jondum and Liara's omnitools pinged to indicate that Ramires's personnel records had been transferred to them.

"Do we have what we need, Jondum?"

The Spectre brought up both sets of data on his omnitool, scanning through Shepard's personnel logs before briefly perusing Ramires's. "I believe so, Liara."

"And was your hunch correct?"

"We'll have to find out."

Carpathian Mountains, European Union – Earth, Sol System – Fourteen Hours Later

The discovery of Prothean technology and the Mass Relays in 2148 had launched humanity's homeworld and capital into a new golden age. The central hub of a network of a dozen settled colonies, a hundred industrial outposts, and thousands of trade routes, wealth and resources had flowed to Earth in the three decades hence. The planet's orbit was ringed with satellites, space stations, orbital launch facilities, and the might of the Alliance First Fleet. They had entered Earth's atmosphere above the western heartland of the Eurasian supercontinent, the ground below them glowing with the lights of dense population centres and industry. To Liara, the great cities of Earth sparkled just as bright as any others in Council space, their landscapes greened by arcology skyscrapers and technological advances.

Scratch beneath the surface, however, and the sparkling lights of Earth's golden era shone duller. The late 21st century had been marked by environmental catastrophe; sea levels had risen and environmental disaster loomed as Humanity's development outstripped the planet's ability to absorb its costs. For advanced nations, technology and wealth had offered a cushion that held back the worst effects until the luck of a quantum leap appeared. For others, however, the 22nd century had never fully arrived. Liara had watched as those high towers had faded into the distance, their ship gliding past them as if they did not exist. Jondum guided the Plain Dealer down from the stratosphere until the rolling peaks of central Europe's Carpathian Mountains loomed in front of them. The bounties of Earth's golden age had not reached here. Below them, Liara could see rugged farms and ancient houses dotting the hillside, nestled into the narrow valleys that ran between peaks, with a handful of centuries-old roads and trainlines all that stood between them and complete isolation.

Jondum peered down from the cockpit's glass bubble, his eyes scanning the terrain as he muttered a series of incomprehensible instructions and coordinates to himself. Arriving at what seemed to be their destination, the Plain Dealer decelerated and began to descend into the fog-swept valley below them. Setting the autopilot, he moved past Liara and into the ship's quarters, checking each of his weapons in turn as they prepared to leave.

"Why are we here?" Liara asked as she holstered her own pistol. "If we wanted to hide in plain sight, would it not make sense to go to one of Earth's larger cities?"

"Think about it," Jondum replied. "If we were to go to London, Rio, the Cascades Megacity, or the Eastern Seaboard, we would be two needles in a haystack covering hundreds of miles. There's almost nobody in this sector, but we'll stick out that much more."

"And word will travel faster."

"Precisely. Who stays in the hinterlands when the boom hits? People who are either unable to get to the centre, or those who are unwilling. Both will gossip furiously, ensuring that word gets back to the Broker's network. Plus its remoteness is consistent with your previous decision to go to Intai'sei."

"So our behaviour is unusual enough to attract Ramires's attention, but not so unusual that it attracts his suspicion."

"You catch on quick, Liara."

They exited the shuttle on foot, and Liara's lungs quickly soaked in the moisture of the air around them. The clouds hung low in the valley, with no more than two hundred feet of the mountainside visible above them. They had landed beside a narrow lake that was bracketed by an old, disused rail-line that hugged the valley's edge as it wound its way through the western Carpathians and towards Prague. Barely a hundred feet wide, the lake's northern shore was dotted with small houses, many of them falling into a state of disrepair.

They were ancient, lacking the modular design of modern prefab units or glass facades of more upscale residences. These were mostly brick and wood, their roofs blacked with the soot from fires and their windows obscured by cobwebs and grime. Many appeared deserted, long abandoned to the siren call of greener pastures in Earth's booming cities or in colony worlds scattered across the void above. Lights flickered in a handful of windows, including one particular house that stood out from the rest. It must once have been majestic. Three steep gables swept over an austere two-storey façade of rock, with a panel of bay windows sweeping across the main level. The house was surrounded by a sweeping expanse of countryside, with a metre-high rock wall running the perimeter of the yard some hundred feet from the house's edge. Yet time had been a harsh mistress: the coppered shingles had long since faded from soot and sunlight, while the windowpanes were caked with dust and time.

Liara looked back at Jondum, who glanced at the three-gabled house and nodded. Hugging the shoreline, they slowly traversed the lakeshore until they found a creek shallow enough to ford to the north side. When they reached the perimeter of the yard, they cautiously let themselves through the wall's front gate, swinging it shut behind them as they slowly moved towards the house. Her pistol drawn, Liara kept her eyes focused on the windows as she approached, yet detected no light or movement behind them. No shadows danced in the windows, and the house felt as if it had been deserted for quite some time. Yet as she pushed the door open, Liara got the distinct feeling that they weren't alone.

The interior was cloaked in a suffocating darkness, the enveloping fog plunging the room into murky, waxing shadows. Only the windows provided light, where grime and soot worked to turn the outside mists into a haze of purples, greys, and browns that shapeshifted along the walls. Behind her, Jondum activated the light on his omnitool, sweeping it across the entryway and revealing the panorama ahead of them. The room in front of them was bisected by a narrow flight of stairs leading upwards and a corridor that continued further into the house's rear rooms. Sets of double doors led to different rooms on their left and right, and they opted to explore the former. The doorway led into what must once have been an elaborate reading room, the walls lined with dusty shelves flanked by old kerosene lanterns. Most of the books were gone, their pages rendered redundant for more than a century. The parlour led into a great hall, which was dominated by a single long table that ran the length of the room. Evidence of its past glory remained: two chandeliers hung from the ceiling above it, while three high-backed chairs sat at the far end of the table. Several faded pictures hung on the interior wall, but time and miserable lighting had long since robbed them of any discernible figures or characteristics.

Tracing her hand along the tabletop, Liara cocked her head at Jondum. "Why here? We could have run anywhere in Alliance space – Goddess knows there are hundreds of places as remote as this one. But you brought us to this exact place, to this exact house in this exact corner of the Sol system. Why are we here?"

"That's an excellent question," a foreign voice growled. "Why are you here?"

The lights in the chandeliers flared on, momentarily blinding Liara. She heard the unmistakable pumping action of a shotgun behind her, and spun on her heels to face the sound. A lone man stalked out of the shadows, his weapon raised and pointed at Liara. His bearing was unmistakably military, but he had long since abandoned fatigues and uniform in favour of buttoned grey coat and leaf-stained work pants. His hair was cropped short on the sides, with longer strands of a light brown strewn across his forehead and parted near the left corner. A few days' beard growth cast a shadow over his jaw and chin, which were locked in a scowl of firm resolve.

"An Asari," the man muttered to himself, "and a Salarian." He took another step forward, moving fully into the light. "We don't get a lot of your kind in the hinterlands."

Gulping back her anxiety, Liara took a step back as the figure advanced towards her. "I am Doctor Liara T'Soni, and this is Jondum Bau – a Council Spectre." She took another step back, raising her sidearm slightly. "Someone is trying to kill us – an agent of the Shadow Broker."

"Figures. And so you break into my house," the figure snarled. "You have no place here – not on this planet, not on this continent, and not in this house. What madness compelled you two to come here?"

"Our pursuer is Human," Jondum responded, "and we want him to find us when the time is right. I'd say Earth's hinterlands fit the bill."

"Just my fucking luck," the man muttered to himself, "pair of aliens show up somewhere they don't belong, and it's my dining room."

"I do have a connection to Earth," Liara protested. "I served on board a Human frigate during the Battle of the Citadel."

"Bullshit. No Alliance captain would allow such a thing."

"The Normandy did. John Shepard did."

"The Normandy…" The man's voice trailed off as the ship's name wormed its way through his head. His entire demeanour seemed to change, his eyes widened and his grip relaxed momentarily on his shotgun. "The Normandy…you served on the Normandy…"

Only now could she see the lines of worry and exhaustion worn into the man's face, ringing his eyes with an eternal fatigue. Yet those same eyes remained ever alert, their icy blue gaze fixed on Liara, a gaze that burned into the depths of her soul.

She knew those eyes, knew them as well as she knew her own.

And they knew her.

Liara broke the silence, her voice broaching the question before her mind could stop it. "Who are you?"

"My name is Tomasz Svoboda."

"His birth name. You might know him better by the name he later took, Liara: Thomas Shepard."