MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Fourteen*

Lina's head swam. Her body was weak with fear, panic sapping her strength. Her legs felt shaky as she ascended the command dais. Around her, sirens wailed and armed personnel streaked up and down the command centre's access ramp in search of Captain Ferrata's murderer. Deep down, Lina knew it was already too late. Whoever the intruder was, they were already gone.

She gazed despondently at the main screen, her hands clasped behind her back if only to stop them trembling. She saw nothing, heard nothing. Avrix Ferrata had been killed under their very noses, under her nose. It would've taken only moments to slash the turian's throat and Lina had given his killer plenty of them. All she could remember about the suspect was that he'd also been a turian, but nothing else - he was just another faceless C-Sec officer in a facility that swarmed with them.

Lorica approached her tentatively. She kept her voice down. 'All exits are sealed. Teams One through Seven are reporting no signs of the suspect. They're going to start combing the maintenance areas now but unless the bastard's hiding in a dark corner somewhere, I can't see them having any luck.'

'Yeah…' Lina mumbled distantly.

Lorica moved closer and pretended to join her in watching the main screen as she leaned in to murmur, 'I know this doesn't look good but you can't blame yourself. We're all responsible for a security breach of this magnitude.'

'You didn't leave Ferrata alone with an assassin,' Lina countered. 'Keelah, how could I have been so stupid?'

'We've had a guard on that door ever since we brought Ferrata in. They changed shifts as normal, there was nothing out of the ordinary to tip us off.'

'Have you found out who was posted there last?'

Lorica sighed. 'Yeah but he knows as much as we do. Since we outsource sentry personnel from Enforcement, they get rotated in and out regularly to stop any one of them knowing too much about our operations. They're just not here long enough to get to know each other on a first name basis.'

'And now we pay the price for it,' Lina remarked solemnly.

Lorica wouldn't be deterred and her voice firmed. 'It's easy to be smart after the event. You know damn well we have a hard enough time requisitioning personnel for support staff and field agents, if we did the same for sentries then the other divisions would make our jobs impossible. Not to mention we'd be wasting genuine talent on stuff a Wards mall cop could do if we used our own people for guard duty.'

Lina finally moved, leaning forward to grip the dais railing tightly enough to make her suited fingers creak.

'I know I'm grasping at straws,' she said, 'but it's all I can do. The whys and hows don't matter. The fact is someone just marched into JSTF headquarters and murdered a suspect in our own interrogation room, a suspect we weren't authorised to hold in the first place. Don't you realise how much trouble we- …I…am in?'

Lorica turned around and folded her arms. 'I wish I could say otherwise. Look, maybe it's time to come clean with Pallin, before things get any worse. If you own up to what happened here, there's a chance he'll be lenient. He's tough but he's fair.'

Lina knew Executor Pallin better than anyone. The old man was honourable to a fault, an unswerving advocate of the rules. However, she'd also seen a side of him few others had. When she came to the Citadel, it was as a runaway from indentured servitude on Noveria. She'd had no choice but to steal to survive, and it was Pallin who saw through the prejudice C-Sec had for quarians to give her a chance for a new life.

Therein lay the conflict that felt like a crushing force on Lina's chest. She didn't know if the executor's sympathy would extend to overlooking everything she had done. Nor, if she searched herself, did she think it should. More than anything, it was an act of betrayal the thought of which she could scarcely stomach.

Slowly, Lina nodded, her head drooping a little with the burden of guilt. At the very least, she owed Pallin an explanation.

'All right,' she said at last. 'I'll brief him from my office. Do me a favour and keep things moving, I'll try not to take too long.'

She left Lorica to the task and headed left off the dais ramp, towards the spiral staircase that led to the commander's office. Her gut was twisted into knots, making her sick with worry. It was hard enough knowing that she had failed. The last thing she wanted to hear was the condemnation, justified though it may have been, of the one to whom she owed the most.

Lina didn't waste time, not even bothering to turn on the office light. She parked herself in front of her terminal and immediately keyed Pallin's office into the comm function. She took steadying breaths, collecting her thoughts, preparing herself for the inevitable.

There was no holo this time. Lina had made the call voice-only. The least she could do for herself was avoid the look on Pallin's face.

'Pallin,' the old turian announced gruffly. 'You have something for me, Lina?'

'Yes, Sir,' she began cautiously, 'but before I begin, I would like to…that is, I must apologise. I haven't been as thorough with these updates as I should have been. There are…developments that you're not aware of. I have no excuses and I am ready to face whatever consequences you deem appropriate.'

Pallin was silent for a few moments before clearing his throat harshly. 'I see. Not the way I expected our conversation to begin, but I appreciate your honesty, Commander. So, what are these developments, exactly?'

To her surprise, Lina found that some of her anxiety had lifted. In the shadows, with only the terminal's light to cast a warm outline on her faceplate, she felt oddly liberated as she went on.

'As you know, a human criminal named Zwei Jaeger stole the T-Seven device and hid it somewhere on the Citadel. The good news is the bomb has been found and it's no longer on the station. One of Jaeger's gang smuggled it out and to Bekenstein, a human colony in this cluster.'

A sigh of relief came from the terminal. 'Well, that's one positive, at least. Commander, it goes without saying that we cannot allow the T-Seven to leave that planet. Have Patrol lock down the Widow relay and monitor all FTL travel between here and the Boltzmann system. We can seize or safely disable any ship trying to move the device out of the area.'

'Yes, Sir. We'll get it done.'

'I don't approve of allowing regular C-Sec agents free reign to decide when and where to execute their assignments,' Pallin warned, 'but I know the Task Force has to operate with a certain degree of flexibility. I don't blame you for allowing Agent Kryik to go out there; as we discussed before, there were few options. I assume his captain gave leave for him to pursue this?'

Lina hesitated. The time had come for her to tell the executor about Captain Ferrata, about Maro Cannis, about all the sacrifices that had been made to get them this far. The freedom of moments before dissipated as quickly as it came about, clamping around her throat so her voice seemed unsteady.

'Sir, I…'

She stopped, not of her own will but because there was something tugging at her, something buried deep in her thoughts. It was another loyalty, to another turian to whom she owed another debt. Unlike Pallin, that debt wasn't a distant thing in the faraway past but a leaden weight of responsibility, present and urgent.

Lina breathed deeply, calming herself.

'Yes, Sir. Captain Ferrata gave his authorisation.'

The darkness of the office sank into Lina. Despite her assurances to Lorica, she couldn't allow herself to be forced to step down from her role, not while Arlen still depended on her. It simply wasn't a risk she was prepared to take.

'We're monitoring Agent Kryik's position by the second,' she went on. 'The bomb is still in Jaeger's possession and we know he's planning to travel back to Omega, though present circumstances have forced him to procure transport locally. This was one of the contingencies we anticipated, the chance to take control of the gang's movements. We're arranging transport ourselves, a "favour" from one of Riko Pavek - that is, Agent Kryik's - old contacts.'

'Good. We'll know exactly what ship to pounce on and we can bring this whole business to a conclusion. Excellent work. If we get this done right, we won't have to worry about the order I just received from the Council…' Pallin shifted on the other end of the line, his unease obvious. 'I also had some news for you myself, Commander. First, understand this isn't my choice, but arguing with the Council is a losing battle at the moment.'

'What's the problem, Sir?'

'I told you before that they were considering Spectre involvement. Well, they did more than consider it. An agent has been assigned to the situation and I'd wager once I give the Council this report, that agent will be on their way to Bekenstein as soon as possible to oversee things. I don't like Spectres at the best of times but even I'm willing to admit that Agent Kryik needs help out there, and this operative is one of the best.'

Lina nodded, in spite of her own misgivings. 'He can't do it alone, Sir. If this Spectre can help bring Arlen back alive, then I'll do whatever I can to help. Are they going to make contact with my team?'

'Yes,' Pallin replied, 'but I'm not sure when exactly. Probably when they hit Bekenstein, I doubt a Spectre will want to be kept waiting. Needless to say, I'd like you to prepare a dossier for upload sooner rather than later. This will all be on the fly, as the humans say, but it's nothing more than JSTF is used to.'

'I'm on it.'

'Good. Is there anything else, Commander?'

Lina pursed her lips. Again, the chance presented itself to come clean about the darker events of the past day but with the knowledge a Spectre was on the way to assist Arlen, victory felt close enough to touch. The truth could come later.

The quarian's helmet dipped regretfully. 'Nothing more, Sir. We're still chasing leads on Crimson Fist but with the OSDs we recovered from Ca-' She had to stop herself from saying "Captain Ferrata", and berated herself inwardly for the near-slip. 'From Molach's apartment, we should have something to go on once we've broken their encryption.'

'Good to know. Keep up the good work, Lina.'

'Yes, Sir.'

The channel cut out with a soft click. Lina propped her elbows on the desk and buried her head in her hands as best the helmet would allow. Her shoulders sagged and unable to hold it back, she let out a quiet sob, alone and unheard in the darkness.

~~~ME-I2~~~

The mood aboard the shuttle was muted. No one had spoken since Zwei sent Grond to his death, but neither was there an air of mourning, either. It reminded Arlen of the end of a military exercise back in Boot Camp, after days or weeks in the field and the recruits were simply exhausted and relieved it was all over. There were no celebrations or shouts of joy, but somehow the callous, businesslike demeanour shown after the murder of their comrade chilled Arlen even more.

He sat hunched over in one of the passenger bay seats, and couldn't stop himself from staring at Zwei. The human still stood in the open hatchway, the icy night wind of Bekenstein ruffling his soiled white shirt, further exposing the equally pale knots of rigid muscle lining his torso.

Arlen hated this man. He had before, when he'd known his target only through mugshots and reports, but this was something else. It was a deep, writhing fury Arlen now felt, a heat that fired his core.

Zwei sensed his scrutiny and looked over at Arlen in turn. As always, there was a trace of a smile on his thin lips.

'You all right over there, Ricky?' he asked casually.

'Why did you do it?' Arlen growled.

Zwei either feigned ignorance or truly was crazy enough to have forgotten his earlier actions. Arlen wouldn't have put either past him.

'Mm?'

'Grond,' Arlen said insistently. 'You just killed him like he was nothing.' He glanced at the others, who ignored the exchange as if they weren't even there. 'Can everyone expect that kind of loyalty from you?'

Zwei angled his head up slightly, turning his smile into that of a shark. 'They sure do breed criminal scum well out there in the Traverse, don't they? Were all the crews over there so willing to die for each other, or was it just yours?'

Arlen didn't respond. His eyes followed Zwei as the human made his way over to sit on the opposite side of the shuttle, resting his arms on his knees. His clear grey gaze pierced Arlen's, promising the sudden, unprovoked violence that had come to be expected from him.

'Do you remember what I told you, Ricky?' Zwei asked quietly. 'Back on the Purgatory?'

'You told me a lot of things,' Arlen replied steadily. 'I was a little too busy dodging mass accelerator fire to remember it all, so why don't you remind me?'

He tensed as Zwei drew his Locust, twisting it in his grip as he spoke. 'I have the power of life and death over you and everyone in this shuttle. Shit, I have that power over everyone out there, too. The difference is, they won't know it until it's too late. My friends, they have the privilege of being aware of that fact. So did Grond. He just forgot.'

'Are we really your friends? Or just your hostages?'

The question made Zwei blink in surprise. His expression remained the same but there was a light in his eyes Arlen hadn't seen yet. Zwei chuckled softly.

'You know, you're the first person to ever ask me that, Ricky. I suppose it'd look that way from the outside. I mean, the scores we take down keep us all knee-deep in booze, red sand and asari pussy but that's all just window dressing to me. Keeps that lot happy, stops them getting on my bad side, but they know just like anyone else in this line of work all that ain't anything to retire on.'

'So if Hock actually paid you the twelve million,' Arlen said, a glimmer of challenge in his glare, 'then you wouldn't have stopped doing what you do?'

'Why would I stop when I'm having so much fun?' Zwei hissed with barely concealed delight.

Again, Arlen threw a look to the rest of the gang. 'And what about them? You'd have let them walk away with their share? Retire on Illium like you promised earlier?'

The human shrugged indifferently. 'We'll never know, will we? I doubt they'd even take the chance if I gave it. The twins, Mads, Naz, they're all like me. They're all with me because they're looking for something beyond the creds, the drugs, the cheap thrills. Ain't my business what that something is, but until they find it they know what I do - that life's short, violent and full of surprises. They found me because they were running scared across the galaxy, and now they found a nice little island of pain, blood and chaos to laugh back at whatever it was that chased them to Omega.'

The cryptic clues were wearing out Arlen's nerves but he knew that trying to nail down anything specific from this maniac would be like trying to wrestle a thresher maw to the ground. He settled for staring, long and hard, at the man in front of him.

'And what were you running from?' he asked. 'What are you looking for?'

'Two questions,' Zwei responded. Arlen frowned at the approval in his tone. 'I like you, Ricky. Things should always come in twos, so I'll give you this one for free. Let's just say that I'm now looking for what I was once running from, and leave it at that.'

Arlen nodded silently, though his private thoughts were filled with as many questions as his tired mind would allow. They collided with the seething contempt he felt for Zwei, and he knew that any professional curiosity he might have once had was being gradually burned away.

He turned his mind to the present, if only to escape from his desire to put a round in Zwei's head. He went over his situation, his objective and the resources at his disposal, figuring he might be able to buy a quiet moment to contact JSTF through Petra.

'I have a contact,' he began, 'one of my old fences who works out of the Citadel. With the short comm buoy chain between here and there, I think I can get a message out, arrange us a ship back to Omega.'

Zwei still held the Locust and he jabbed it towards him. 'That's the kind of thinking I admire, Ricky. It'll get you far in this organisation. Set it up.'

Arlen opened his omni-tool and the projection erred as the shuttle caught some turbulence, bumping and heaving in the strong winds. He began to type with his other hand, working in shorthand so the others wouldn't be able to read his keystrokes.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Before leaving, one of the many retrieval situations he'd discussed with Lina was the interception of a spacefaring vessel. It had seemed the ideal solution, the most unlikely best-case scenario. In the cold void of space, the loss of life would be minimal even if the bomb went off, and this close to the Citadel they had Patrol, even the Citadel Fleet on hand to do the job. All they needed to know was which ship to board. It wasn't possible before, the trip from Omega to Bekenstein came about so quickly, and Aria's smuggling vessel was used to avoiding Council ships but now JSTF had full control over Zwei's movements after Hock's betrayal. It was the golden chance to end it all.

Still, Arlen couldn't bring himself to give the order. He knew JSTF were waiting for it but something had seized control of his actions, refusing to let him proceed. That something, he realised, terrified him to the depths of his soul - but he couldn't refuse it.

Arlen scrubbed the message and started a new one. It was a secure private message directed to Lina alone.

~~~ME-I2~~~

'Message coming through from Lina,' Kim announced before her brow twisted in confusion. 'Wait…that can't be right.' She raised her voice. 'Lorica, can you take a look at this? There must be some sort of mistake.'

The rest of the command centre was too busy to notice the anxious hitch in her voice but it was enough to draw the attention of Ket and Deveraux, both of whom turned around in their chairs to look at her. They didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong as Lorica approached immediately, jogging across from a neighbouring section.

'What is it?' she asked. 'Do we have a green light?'

'Yeah, but…' Kim paused to scroll through the message on her terminal one more time before shaking her head. 'Here, take a look. Maybe it's the lack of sleep making me see things, I don't know.'

She leaned back slightly to allow Lorica room to lean in. The asari too stared at the terminal screen but her face didn't express the same perplexion. While she couldn't have said she expected the turn of events, it was what she'd feared the most.

Damn you, Lina, Lorica cursed privately. The orders were clear, succinct, and wrong. However, they were still orders and Lorica had no choice but to repeat them.

'You heard the commander,' she said stiffly, trying to conceal the greatest part of her frustration. 'Arrange berth on a local transport.'

'Wasn't that the plan to begin with?' Ket queried. Even the salarian bore as curious an expression as it was possible for his species to bear.

Lorica straightened. Her tone was unusually flat, and she found she didn't care if the others could tell it was through suppressed anger.

'Yeah, but there's been an alteration. We're not notifying Patrol. Let Jaeger go.'

'What?'

The question came as one from all three members of the team and Lorica's own misgivings were reflected in the disbelief she saw in their eyes. She couldn't stop herself from balling her fists at her sides, the only sign of her fury at Lina for putting her in such a position.

'You heard,' she snapped as she started to pace about the section, if only to occupy herself from sinking into further rage. 'There must've been a problem at Arlen's end, or Lina spoke to the executor and he didn't want to risk casualties.'

Ket scoffed. 'Risk casualties? A few hours ago we'd have gladly taken a few thousand dead over the alternative! What's the executor waiting for, the T-Seven to slip out of Jaeger's hand and magically fall into a black hole?'

'He's right,' Deveraux agreed. 'This doesn't make sense, we know Arlen hit trouble back at Hock's place but the danger's passed. Why let the T-Seven go now, right when we're on the cusp of getting it back?'

'We're not letting anything go,' Lorica said firmly. She folded her arms and leaned back to perch her backside on the edge of Kim's desk. 'Arlen's still there and circumstances are still in our favour. This is just…delaying the inevitable.'

Her rushed reasoning sounded even more implausible when spoken aloud. It made her burn with shame.

Kim looked up at her as she murmured, 'I guess if we're gonna risk taking Jaeger down, it might as well be in the Terminus Systems, well away from polite society. Too many awkward questions for the Council if it detonates, am I right?'

The remark was laced with sarcasm and Lorica's temper finally frayed.

'Okay, that's enough, all of you,' she snapped. 'None of us are here to question our orders, just to carry them out. If Lina, Pallin or anyone else higher up the chain wants our opinion, they'll ask for it. Mike, sort out Arlen's ride. Ket, wind in your tongue long enough to explain to Patrol that they're to allow that vessel into the system and through the relay without any interference. Kim, get back onto Investigation and have them release Captain Ferrata's terminal and all materials to us immediately. Don't tell them why, just do it.'

'Not like he'll need them anymore,' Ket muttered.

Deveraux shook his head. 'Too soon, man.'

'For an ape like you, perhaps. We salarians are much quicker to come to terms with bad news, as we are in all things.'

Kim's chair squeaked as she leaned back. 'No, you're just an asshole.'

'Enough!' Lorica seethed through gritted teeth, stunning them all. She gestured about her. 'In case you all didn't notice, we're not only trying to hunt down a stolen nuke but a man was just murdered in our custody! If I hear any of you making light of this again, I swear to the Goddess I'll have each and every one of you busted back down to the streets, is that clear?'

Lorica was aware that none of her team had heard her speak that way before. Her stomach tightened at Kim's wounded expression, and the young woman's response was slightly strained as she snapped back to her terminal.

'Yeah, sure thing, Ma'am.'

Lorica let it go. No doubt a few days ago Lina would've found her girlfriend's anger amusing and made another smartass remark about the asari's "addiction to office romances", but it might as well have been a whole different life. Their commander was not there now and if she had been, Lorica didn't think she would have been able to contain herself.

A silent sigh escaped as a long breath through her nose, and while the team busied themselves with their tasks, she cursed Lina again for forcing her to lie to her team. Her eyes lingered guiltily on Kim's back as her lover went to work.

~~~ME:I2~~~

After the clean air of Bekenstein, it was almost a torture to be forced back into the stale, sterilised environment of a starship so soon. Arlen couldn't complain aloud about the vessel, an Athabasca class freighter, without drawing too much suspicion but he made a mental note to file a complaint with JSTF if he returned. The least they could have done was find him something with a bed.

The compartments were a little bigger than those of a Kowloon, at least, and this ship was on a return journey with barely any cargo beyond a few dextro food stores. The labels were clear enough and had prompted Tuvio to begin cracking his way into one, much to the chagrin of his sister.

'Get the hell over here and stop messing around,' she called out.

'I'm starving, damn it! I haven't eaten since before we left Omega!'

Tuvia's blue-rimmed mandibles twitched irritably. 'Neither have any of us, unless you count having to swallow your bullshit. So stop acting like a damn kid, sit down and shut up!'

Next to her, Madsen was fussing around with his omni-tool and spoke without lifting his head. 'Easy now, less than two days ago we were settling in for a new life on the worst prison ship in the galaxy. A few hours ago we were fighting our way out of the compound of one of the most dangerous arms dealers in Citadel space. I think your brother's earned the right to help himself to a few bars of dextro chocolate.'

From a darkened corner of the cargo bay, Zwei's voice echoed, though the man himself was hidden.

'At this rate that's all he'll be eating. Do I have to remind you lot that we haven't been paid for the casino job? Keeping you all in the luxury to which you're accustomed is a bloody tall order.'

Arlen sensed the mood of the group dip further and his brow plates pursed together as nearby, Naraya kicked out hard at a crate of mechanical parts.

'What did we expect from a slimeball like Hock?' she asked through gnashing teeth. 'The guy's got no balls, hiding behind his Eclipse pussies in his fancy house in his little celebrity paradise. He wouldn't last two minutes out on the streets.'

'I think the idea behind all that cash is to avoid the streets,' Madsen pointed out, drawing a look of sarcastic contempt from his asari comrade. 'I'm just saying is all, it could've been worse. We gotta count our blessings.'

Tuvio's voice barked out from inside a freshly smashed crate of turian confectionery. 'Damn right. Could've ended up like that oversized lump of crap - a big krogan-shaped stain on the mountainside, am I right?'

To Arlen's astonishment, the crew chuckled at the tasteless comment.

'Wrong place, wrong time, wrong weight,' Madsen joked, bringing another round of quiet laughter from the others. 'Shame I was trying to keep us in the air, I bet that fall was a sight to see, eh, Riko?'

Arlen glanced at him but said nothing, allowing Tuvio the chance to expel another guffaw from within the crate.

'Yeah, you'd have loved it, man. A triple somersault with a few twists thrown in, worth at least an eight if you had your scorecards handy.'

'Shame he didn't stick his landing,' Madsen said and the two men roared with laughter.

Arlen didn't have time to register his disgust. A loud smack reverberated through the compartment and his lips parted, a shocked expression to match Madsen, who was now doubled over clutching his cheek in open amazement.

All were silent as Zwei brought his arm down, the back of his hand red with the impact. His expression was murderous.

'I'm glad to see you all think this is funny,' he growled. He started pacing the bay, flexing the fingers of one hand as if ready to choke someone, while the T-Seven case swayed in the other. 'That prick Hock just made us all look like a bunch of bloody mugs. While you lot are all laughing and joking, I got a responsibility as the leader of this little group of thugs and killers. When somebody mugs us off like that, I need to have an answer. If Hock thinks he can hire us for a job, then run out on his debt, how long's it gonna be before someone else decides to do the same? All the years I spent pissing about on that shithole of a station, killing, burning, stealing, building a reputation…all for nothing!'

The last word came with a vicious kick that left a dent in a nearby shipping crate.

He lowered his voice. 'I don't let anyone get away with ripping me off, don't matter how big or small they are. Nobody screws us over.'

Arlen cleared his throat. 'You mentioned before that you were sent to Purgatory only hours after getting pinched? No due process, right? Maybe Hock was the one who had you shipped out, figured he wouldn't have to pay if you never got out. Put a word in someone's ear, someone high up in C-Sec, I don't know.'

Slowly, Zwei nodded as he turned the possibility over in his mind. 'Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense. Never mind this bomb here, Hock was never playing straight from the beginning. Which just makes it more important that we nail this guy to the goddamn wall.'

Naraya straightened and reached out to place a hand on his arm. 'I want to get my hands on Hock as much as you do but we were lucky to get outta there alive. Maybe we put out the word Hock ain't worth shit dealing with, stick to the Terminus for a while, get ourselves back on track? I mean, if we need some quick credits, we've still got that thing.'

She gestured to the T-Seven and flinched as Zwei turned to her brusquely.

'What did you say?'

His tone was brutal and everyone grew palpably anxious as he took several slow steps forward.

Naraya edged away from him, unable to stop her voice from shaking. 'The bomb, it's worth a lot to the right people, isn't it? Maybe we can find a buyer, or Aria T'Loak would-'

'You said we're lucky,' Zwei snarled. He screamed, red-faced, 'Lucky? That son of a bitch screwed us, tried to kill us, and now we're here on our way back to Omega with our tails between our legs. This is supposed to somehow be a fortunate state of fucking affairs?'

He whirled on the spot to face the others, his eyes ablaze and skin mottled with anger. 'Bollocks to that. I want each and every one of you to get yourselves ready when we arrive back on Omega. I want guns, thermal clips, grenades, I want us armed to the teeth and ready to go. The day after tomorrow, we're going back to the Bek, and we will get what we're owed. The only words I wanna hear out of any of your mouths until then are ideas. The next one of you to crack a joke, we're gonna have a big goddamn problem, is that clear?'

Arlen joined the other in murmuring their agreement. On hearing it, Zwei's grin returned and he hefted up the T-Seven.

'And look on the bright side. As Naz rightly pointed out, we've still got this little baby. It's our bargaining chip, our insurance policy and if necessary, our final act of revenge.' He thought for a moment. 'Or it's something I'm gonna tie Hock to before locking him in the basement of a very tall, very crowded building. I'll decide later.'

Arlen didn't know whether Zwei was being serious or not, but either way the likelihood of the bomb being used against civilians had increased a hundredfold. Arlen knew it was a risk when he asked Lina to avoid tipping off Patrol but the reality of his decision was a rocking blow to his nerves.

He took deep breaths, silently and subtly, trying to calm himself. It wasn't calm he found, however. It was that unspeakable, searing rage that had set him upon a different path. The hate he'd found for Zwei had grown with every second spent in the human's presence, repeated and reinforced with the deaths of Maro Cannis and Grond. Arlen knew after seeing Zwei's gleeful reaction to both murders that he couldn't trust Patrol to raid a ship with a man so dangerous walking its decks. He didn't doubt Zwei would've blown the T-Seven just to take out as many people as he could.

No, Arlen told himself as he completed his train of thought, finding a terrible new certainty with it. You don't get to decide how this ends, you bastard. You're mine.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Donovan Hock still smouldered with fury. It was etched into every line of his face, set though it was in a stonelike expression of stern contemplation as he sat at his desk in his private quarters. It was a dark, moonless night on Bekenstein, perfectly matching his mood. His bedroom was enormous and choking with opulence, but none of it shone through the impenetrable shadows. Only a couple of lights were visible, that of Hock's terminal as he stared at the summons he'd sent only moments ago, and the other a lamp set on a table at the other side of the room.

Hock's elbows rested on the desk, his hands clasped together, and his knuckles paled as his grip tightened unconsciously. The insult paid to him by the punk Jaeger and his little gang still burned like a slow acid in his stomach. It was all Hock could do not to execute the entire Eclipse platoon sent to bring them down but for all their incompetence, he needed the mercs on his side for more than just a security contract. Besides, many had paid with their lives and the rest would have to answer to Eclipse's infamously violent leader for their failure. Hock had bigger concerns.

His brow flexed and furrowed as he recalled the sequence of events in the vault, trying to puzzle out how Jaeger not only survived but escaped his compound altogether. The whole gang had proven to be more than the sum of their parts. They'd fought a running battle to the landing pad with all the expertise of trained soldiers. Hock would have expected, and even still been somewhat surprised at, the result if he'd tried to trap a squad of Alliance marines but these had been anything but. Clearly he'd underestimated the Omega street trash, but the rectification of his mistake would soon present itself.

At that thought, Hock lowered his hands and after a brief final scan of his terminal, he rose from the desk. He snatched up a glass of expensive red wine and took deep sips as he made his way across the room. Luxurious couches ringed the nearby table and he took the one to his right, facing opposite the main door so he could keep his approaching guest in his sight at all times.

As he lowered himself into the soft leather he set the wine glass on the table and glanced to his right again, out of the window that looked out upon Bekenstein's capital, Milgrom. It was nothing but thousands of small lights suspended in the blackness, mirroring the night sky above. It brought the illusion of being in space, which in turn provoked an uneasy sensation in Hock. He much preferred the solidity of terra firma to the cold emptiness of the void. One was something he could build upon, manipulate and make serve his whims, while the other was possibly the only thing more ruthless and unforgiving than he.

The door to his quarters opened, snapping him out of his melancholy. The light from beyond was blocked by a shadow that almost took up the entire doorway.

'Come,' Hock ordered.

He repressed a bout of nervousness as the shadow appeared to stoop down even further for a moment to get into the room, and on the table, the wine rippled inside its glass with increasing force as heavy footfalls slowly thumped the ground. They came to a stop just in front of the ring of couches and Hock knew better than to invite the colossal creature to sit down. If he did, the first thing he would be doing after the meeting was ordering new furniture.

It was a krogan. Not just a typical krogan but the single largest specimen Hock had ever encountered. It towered over him, dwarfing everything in the room, which itself seemed to have shrunk by several orders of magnitude in the last few moments. The krogan had stopped just outside the gentle light of the table lamp, so Hock could only barely see the outline of a huge, dark red crest above leathery skin of pale, fleshy yellow. They were encased in armour of nearly impossible thickness, curves of plating drawing the lines of the krogan's hump and shoulders in camouflage patterns of grey.

'Inamorda,' Hock announced. 'It's a pleasure to host a bounty hunter of your reputation. Many of my friends and business acquaintances speak highly of you.'

The krogan shifted, a small movement but one that seemed to alter the surrounding shadow in some way, as if the darkness itself was making way for him. His voice was like the rumble of a cruiser engine, edged with an animal growl.

'I ain't interested in your pleasure, mammal. Let's get this over with so I can go to work.'

Had the words come from anyone else's lips, Hock would have delayed things as a matter of authority but he knew Inamorda wasn't someone to be tested. If anything, the anxious hesitation he felt was reassuring - it meant that he'd made the right choice.

A datapad lay at the edge of the table and Hock slid it over, waiting for Inamorda to lean over and pick it up before continuing.

'Your target's name is Zwei Jaeger, a petty criminal and gang leader based out of Omega, in the Terminus Systems.'

Inamorda said nothing as he perused the datapad, reading intently.

Hock leaned back and gestured with a hand. 'He leads five others; three turians, a human and an asari. You have all the details there, everything you need to make a promising start. I want them dead. All of them.'

'You know my fee,' Inamorda murmured under his breath without taking his eyes from the datapad. 'Plus ten percent. At this short notice I've had to put some lucrative contracts on hold.'

'I think that can be arranged.'

Clearly surprised, Inamorda looked up momentarily. 'This pyjack must've pissed you off bad. Usually I have to waste time negotiating.'

Hock leaned forward again and tapped a finger forcefully on the table. 'I'm past negotiating. These people mocked me in my own home. I want those slights repaid a thousand times over. I want Mister Jaeger to know the biggest mistake of his life was to turn down my generosity, right before the last breath leaves his lungs.'

'I'll make sure he dies slow,' Inamorda replied, returning his gaze to the datapad.

'One more thing.'

Again, Inamorda looked at Hock directly and the human held his fierce gaze unwaveringly.

'Jaeger has something on his person, something I want. A briefcase; large, silver, heavy. Do not open it under any circumstances. Understand that if you do, your contract will be cut short and not by any action of mine. Retrieve the case, bring it back to me and there will be a five million credit bonus in addition to your fee.'

The number made Inamorda freeze briefly, the breath stopping in his enormous lungs. The krogan hesitated, though Hock couldn't tell if it was because of greed or suspicion. He had offered Inamorda a handsome sum, one that he could retire on if he so chose, but it was insignificant next to the price Hock could command for the T-Seven device. Vengeance was his first priority but if the chance came to profit from this calamity, he would not turn it down.

After a time, Inamorda gave a single, hefty nod.

'All right. Six bodies and a briefcase,' he grunted. 'By the time I'm done you'll be able to fit whatever's left of these dead sapients walking into that glass.'

Hock's eyes flickered to the wine glass and for the first time since Zwei's escape, he smiled.

'I'm glad we could do business, Mister Inamorda,' he said with no small satisfaction as he motioned back to the door. 'My men will show you out.'

Inamorda gave Hock a long, unpleasant look before he departed, one Hock couldn't read. It was the glare of a hunter warning a scavenger away from a fresh kill. As Inamorda left with thundering steps, Hock continued to smile to himself.

Though he didn't yet know it, Jaeger's days were numbered. Death was coming for him and his gang, and Hock's only regret was that he couldn't savour those last moments of agony for himself.