MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Twenty-One*

Police shuttles lowered to the ground, the dull whine of their engines overpowered by their sirens, shrill cries that had all the room they needed to echo through the crisp Bekenstein morning air. Officers poured from their vehicles shouting orders for everyone to stand back, but barely any civilians had remained behind after the first sounds of gunshots from inside the First Colonial Bank, only a smattering of onlookers with more curiosity than sense.

A heavy van painted dark blue touched down nearby, spilling out a dozen men and women in heavy armour of the same colour, their Avenger rifles taking aim at the front of the bank in deadly anticipation. They went no further and held the cordon with steely discipline while others set up holo-barriers in a wide, crooked ring around the building. Their squad cars formed a second, more physical wall behind it and uniformed officers sporting shotguns joined some of their assault team comrades in pointing their weapons at the bank ahead.

The last car to land did so a respectable distance from the main cordon, and from it stepped a ruddy-skinned man with greying hair and fierce eyes. He wore a police uniform banded with gold, with an Alliance-style officer's cap emblazoned with golden wreaths. It was to him that senior officers immediately flocked.

'Chief Carter?' a young sergeant asked, her dark complexion drawn taut with worry. 'Sergeant Nishan. I'm sorry, we weren't expecting you here so soon. First responders only arrived fifteen minutes ago.'

Carter's gaze raked the bank front as he placed his hands behind the broad sweep of his back.

'Never mind that,' he growled. 'What have you got so far?'

Nishan forced a stern expression and joined the chief in looking over the bank. 'Not much, Sir. They've taken hostages but we're still not sure whether it's a score gone bad or this was the idea all along.'

'Any demands?'

'No attempt at communication at all, so far,' Nishan replied with a shake of her head. 'Whoever these guys are, they're either buying time or they don't know what the hell they want.'

'Oh, they know what they want,' Carter murmured. He didn't seem to notice how Sergeant Nishan looked at him questioningly. 'I'm guessing your district commander hasn't briefed you yet?'

'No, Sir,' Nishan confirmed warily. 'This all started just after shift change. We were barely out of the locker room before we were scrambled to the scene.'

Carter grunted. 'These perps match the description of terrorists wanted by the Citadel in relation to that bomb scare a couple of days ago.'

Nishan winced in confusion. 'Terrorists? But…why are they here?'

'We don't know, and frankly, I don't care.' Carter narrowed his hard eyes. 'We've got orders to hold off on an assault, keep them busy until some Spectre arrives.'

Nishan moistened her lips, hesitant to ask, 'We really gonna let an alien hold the power of life and death over those hostages?'

The chief made a low snarling sound deep in his throat. 'I don't like it any more than you do, Sergeant, but orders are orders. If this was Earth, it'd be a different story but out here, the Alliance calls the shots. And the call is that we do everything this Spectre says.'

The thought appeared to snap Carter out of his intense observation and he looked at Nishan with an even expression.

'We'll be liaising with some kind of intelligence unit on the Citadel. They're running the operation to bring these guys in, but until they do we need to keep fingers off triggers. More lives are at stake than the people in that bank.'

'What do you mean, Sir?'

'I'll brief everyone shortly. Just make sure your people have their safeties on, that's an order.'

Nishan watched as Carter turned and made his way to a nearby command vehicle, a large truck that almost looked like a colonial prefab, with all manner of cables, conduits and power boxes covering its outer hull.

She couldn't help but frown in concern as she carried out her orders, unable to keep the strain from her voice as she shouted commands to her officers.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Tuvia had been tapping at her omni-tool for some time. Between the soft tones of her inputs and the fearful whispers of the hostages forced to gather and sit in a dense group at the back of the lobby, the loud clacking of Naraya and Tuvio's armoured footsteps were like thunder. They paced around their captives, circling like raptors, their weapons primed and ready to fire at the slightest hint of dissent.

Arlen watched from the edge of the room. He had joined Tuvia in clearing out the rear of the building and herding everyone they found into the lobby before leaving her to begin her work. She sat behind one of the teller terminals, squinting and muttering coarsely every few minutes as she ran into some difficulty or another.

It didn't take long for Zwei to get impatient and he strode over to her briskly, Locust in one hand and T-Seven in the other. He gestured to the terminal in front of Tuvia, jabbing his gun at it.

'What the hell's taking so long?' he snapped.

Arlen saw Tuvia's eyes slide towards Zwei in a sidelong glance of concealed bitterness. 'It's not that simple, Boss. This was Madsen's area of expertise, he would've been able to get around these damn firewalls no problem.'

'Are you telling me you can't do it?'

For the first time Arlen could remember, he saw a look of naked fear pass as a shadow over Tuvia's face. It was seldom seen on a turian, less so in a female of their species and it made Arlen tense up. His pistol was drawn and aimed loosely at the hostages but the barrel slowly rose, only a finger's width but enough to spring up at the first sign of opportunity.

'I can do it,' she finally replied with a hint of defiance. 'Just- Just give me more time. Madsen didn't exactly leave me with instructions here.'

Naraya spoke up without taking her hateful gaze from the hostages. 'Don't worry, babe. You know the cops won't try anything once they know about your little insurance policy.'

Her statement was accompanied by a furtive look outside, where blue and red flashes marked the wall of police vehicles and barriers set up around the building.

'I suppose it's time we clued them in,' Zwei mumbled. He glared at Tuvio. 'Get the message out on all public frequencies, just like we discussed. Don't get creative with the wording either, keep it exactly as I said, got it?'

'Got it,' Tuvio acknowledged. His omni-tool came to life, though the flanging of his turian vocals was interrupted by Zwei.

'Not here, dickhead. Out back.'

Tuvio grumbled as he obeyed, lurching into one of the rear rooms to broadcast the gang's ultimatum - that they possessed a stolen weapon of mass destruction and half of Milgrom would be consumed by nuclear fire if the police intervened.

The authorities already knew, of that Arlen had no doubt. JSTF would have made it their first priority to inform Bekenstein law enforcement of the T-Seven. He wasn't there during the Silver Coast job; he didn't have a clue of how long it'd taken for them to crash Elijah Khan's accounts before, nor how long it would take to do the same to Hock but it didn't matter. Time was on the side of Zwei, whether he realised it or not. The only question was how long it would take for the maniac to lose his patience - and how many innocent people he'd take down when he did.

The tension was a relentless, pulsing pressure on Arlen's nerves, mirroring the beating of his heart. The early morning sun shone through the glass walls of the lobby in warm shafts, highlighting the crowd of hostages as if to keep pushing them to the forefront of his attention. He tried to focus, his eyes shifting constantly between the milky patterns in the marble furniture and floors to the tropical plants lining the room, anything to avoid the terrified stares of the civilians huddled before him.

A yelp of pain made him blink and he glanced at Naraya as she cuffed the back of a poor woman's head with the butt of her shotgun.

'Keep your hands where I can see 'em, bitch!' she screeched as as she bludgeoned the woman again. The hostage wept uncontrollably and her hands shook as she raised them, keeping her head down in hopeless terror.

Arlen's blood burned in his veins as Zwei chuckled.

'At least I've got you for entertainment, eh? Tell you what, Naz. Anyone else hides their hands, blow one of 'em off. Should only take one shot, right?'

Naraya gave him a sick grin. 'Shredder rounds? Easy.'

They laughed, a sound that brought a few sobs from the crowd and made Arlen want to gun both of them down right there and then. He gauged his distances, once again going over all the possible actions that could be taken, the methodical mental patterns of his training now the only thing keeping him sane. The Interceptor inhaled slowly and exhaled just as gradually, maintaining the composure that had always brought him victory when he'd managed to summon it in the direst of situations.

Any minute now, he repeated to himself. Any minute now.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Ciro scarcely noticed his antique clock issue its quaint metallic chime, marking over three hours of his time spent with Eris. They sat together on the largest couch, still in the same positions they'd first taken so long ago, surrounded by various datapads Ciro had scrounged from his collections. Among them were old treaties, scholastic references and accounts of some of the most significant diplomatic developments in turian history. It was all enough to bore the crest off most of his kind but Eris was different, in more ways than simply being an asari.

He reached over to the low table in front of him and took a sip of water from a tall glass. Beads of it remained on his lips as he spoke hurriedly.

'But consider that the Vol Protectorate was, in fact, not a protectorate at the time. Think for a moment what that meant. Few individuals, let alone an entire race, are willing to relinquish the fundamental responsibility for their safety and that of their loved ones. Oh, of course there's the matter of state protection through law enforcement but when you look at the raw facts, only a minority of citizens have any interaction with these organisations in such a context. For most, it's a largely abstract notion.'

'So,' Eris began, frowning a little in confusion, 'the common view that the volus willingly submitted to turian vassalage is misfounded?'

'No, no,' Ciro said, waving a hand as he set his glass back on the table. 'Not at all. But, as you'll come to see if you start digging a little deeper into these events, the common view is often the simplest. It ignores a thousand details, each giving a particular insight into both turian and volus culture. If you wish to become an ambassador one day, you must learn to dismiss the common view out of hand and seek out the truth for yourself. Missing just one of these thousand details may rob you of insight that will enable you to ingratiate yourself with an exceptional volus colleague, or curry a favour that can be called on later.'

'But assuming it was, more or less, a matter of the volus swallowing their pride to accept protectorate status; wasn't the size of the turian fleet enough to assume they would see sense?'

Ciro laughed and shook his head. 'Pose that question to a human and you'd get a very clear answer. Never forget, my dear, that no matter the perceived strengths or weaknesses of a race, it is the unperceived that will always cause the most injury. To underestimate the spirit and fighting ability of the volus - as we did the humans - would have cost us more than lives and ships. It would've robbed us of loyal friends who have given us far more in peace than we could have extracted through war.'

He sighed quietly and, for a moment, gazed out of the balcony window. ' I wonder sometimes what would have happened had an ambassador been leading the patrol that began the Relay Three-Fourteen Incident, and not Renius Kryik. Protocol demanded they open fire on those human science vessels, but it needn't have gone any further. I wonder if, checked in their small pocket of space, they would have accepted the Empire's protection as the volus did?'

Eris softly cleared her throat. 'I know this is the common view again, but if what they say about the humans is true, I don't think they would have. I mean, just look at how quickly they've advanced in the galactic community already. Establishing an embassy in decades, and to say nothing of their admittance to the Council, it's all so…unprecedented. Do you believe the turians would have been able to contain them, even if they'd initially accepted to become protectorates?'

'A question for your matriarchs, I think,' Ciro responded, gathering a few of the datapads together into a neat stack. 'Or maybe the salarians. They seem to understand the humans better than anyone. Both races share the same sense of urgency, that obsessive need to progress. Even when they don't have any idea to where they're progressing.'

Eris nodded. Ciro thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but then he saw how she was holding her own datapad. She'd been taking notes on it for some time, but over the last half hour or so it had gone unused, and only now did Ciro notice how she clutched it tightly to her body, her fingertips worrying at the smooth edges with increasing frequency.

'I'm sorry,' he said, prising himself up from the couch. 'I must be boring you. I tend to prattle on when it comes to history.'

Eris' face was aghast as she snapped her eyes to his. 'No! No, please, don't think that! It's not you, honestly, I've been having a great time. It's just that…' She considered what to say briefly. 'Never mind, I shouldn't trouble you with my problems.'

'I doubt it would trouble me any more than it seems to be troubling you,' Ciro pointed out as he picked up both glasses, slipping a long finger inside each and clamped down on them with his thumb. 'Not that I wish to pry too deeply into your business, of course.'

'Well, that's the thing. It's not just my business. At least, I don't think it is.'

At that, Ciro paused. He was on his way into the kitchen and the glasses were still in hand as he turned back to her.

'What do you mean?'

Eris looked down at the datapad in her lap and continued to fidget as she spoke. 'When I dropped off your gift with your assistant, when I first arrived, I…that is, he was acting a little..strange. Your assistant, I mean.'

'Antus?' Ciro took a step closer. 'I don't understand. What was he doing?'

Eris winced. 'No, you see, this is why I didn't want to say anything. When I think about it, what I saw, it looked suspicious but when I say it out loud, it just sounds so…'

Ciro's lips pulsed for a second, then he strode into the kitchen to set down the glasses. When he returned he took a knee in front of Eris and his deep, smooth voice poured into the room as he spoke soothingly.

'Come on, now. It's just the two of us. If this is bothering you so much, it's clearly important to you. And that means it's important to me.'

Her eyes, shimmering, watery blue mirrors, met his. 'I think he was trying to break into your office. He was fooling around with his omni-tool and your office door. I mean, there might be an innocent explanation but why else would he be doing such a thing?'

Ciro furrowed his brow plates, his mouth slightly ajar and lips working subtly, as if on the verge of asking a dozen questions at once. He stood, his head turning to nothing in particular and he had to place his hands behind his back to stop them from fumbling. His first instinct was that Eris must be mistaken, but why would she lie about something like this?

'You're sure?'

'More than sure,' she responded firmly. 'I only saw him for a couple of seconds but between that and how awkward he seemed afterwards, it was like I caught him doing something very wrong. It didn't occur to me at the time - I was kinda surprised you weren't there and I didn't have a good excuse for dropping off the gift - but the more I've thought about it, the more it's been bothering me.'

Ciro digested the revelation in silence, choosing to pace steadily back and forth in front of the balcony for a time.

Eris hunched up a little protectively, clasping her hands together on her lap. 'I'm sorry. I didn't want to throw accusations around needlessly. I just know that if something's going on, and I missed the chance to do something about it, I'd always regret not telling you.'

'It's all right,' he assured her, touching a hand to her shoulder as he passed. 'You did the right thing. I'll keep what you've told me in mind and, well…'

He trailed off, as unsure of what to say as he was about everything he'd just heard. Antus had been his loyal and dutiful aide for a long time, and Ciro had never found any reason to suspect him of foul play.

But what if I'd simply never been given a reason? he posited to himself. He nodded once, then, knowing what he needed to do.

He cleared his throat. 'Perhaps we should finish for today. We've already been through more than I had planned and I don't want to overload you. We can continue another time.'

Eris rose to her feet with a sad expression. 'I haven't ruined the mood, have I?'

Ciro gave her a tired smile, drawing near and taking a gentle hold of her arms. 'Of course not. I've very much enjoyed this morning and I honestly can't wait to do this again.'

Eris let an expectant silence draw out, all while she held him with those large, bright eyes. The trace of a smile played on her lips and Ciro grinned broadly.

'All right, how does the evening after next suit you?' he asked. 'A couple of hours' study and then dinner. My treat.'

'That suits me just fine.'

Eris took one of his hands in her own. Her grip was soft and warm, and against his better judgement, Ciro didn't want her to let go.

'I'll call by after work,' she said before releasing Ciro's hand and turning to leave. She took a moment to straighten out her dress and made her way to the front door. She glanced at Ciro as it opened, the Presidium light framing her features perfectly.

'See you soon,' she said happily.

Ciro waved farewell, but as the door closed his smile evaporated. He stared ahead for a while, considering everything Eris had revealed. He still couldn't believe Antus was trying to break into his office, but even as his doubts rose, the simple logic of Eris' accusation railed against it. She was young and a little naive, but she was no fool. Moreover, her instincts and intuition were sound, of that he was convinced after spending so much time with her lately.

He took a deep breath and went back to the table, picking up one of the datapads cluttering its surface. Tucking it under an arm, he made for the door. There were some small matters of business he wanted to see to at the office but, more than anything, he wanted to speak to Antus himself before the day was out.

~~~ME-I2~~~

The JSTF command centre was a whirlwind of noise and motion. No one had anticipated the situation on Bekenstein to develop so quickly but this was what the team trained for. There was no confusion amongst the army of analysts as they worked, whether processing information on terminals, relaying intel with omni-tools or conversing with team leads. It was a concentrated buzz of activity, focused and direct.

Lina, as ever, oversaw everything from the central dais.

'Kim,' the quarian called out, 'I'm still waiting on that connection.'

The response was immediate. 'Still wrangling with Milgrom PD, Commander. Don't worry, we'll have you patched through soon.'

Lina's arms were folded, her fingers drumming impatiently on her suited biceps. She almost didn't see Lorica make her way up the dais ramp to join her.

'I step away for a few hours and all hell breaks loose,' the asari complained.

'Just like old times,' Lina joked before gesturing to the main screen, where the various news organisations of Bekenstein had already begun coverage of the First Colonial siege. The feeds were distant and grainy, not much use to anyone but they could easily make out the heavy police perimeter in front of the bank.

'We can't figure out what the hell Jaeger is playing at,' she continued. 'We know he's going after Donovan Hock. We know Hock's main business accounts are held with First Colonial. What doesn't make sense is why he's drawing all this attention to himself. Even if he crashes Hock's accounts, the guy knows he's there now. The chance to take Hock by surprise has been completely blown.'

Lorica hefted her shoulders. 'Well, he knows as well as we do that the T-Seven pretty much guarantees his safety, at least in the short term. But you're right, this mess gets him nowhere. Hock's bound to have enough funds stashed away elsewhere to lie low until Zwei runs himself into a corner.'

There was something they were missing, Lina was sure of it. Surely no one could be this random, this thoughtless, and have survived for so long living the way they did? There had to be some kind of thought process behind it they weren't interpreting.

'All we can do is watch,' she sighed. 'Hopefully the Milgrom police will have enough sense to follow our orders, when I can finally get in contact with their commander on the scene, that is.'

'Not picking up the comm?' Lorica asked wryly.

'They haven't been there long. Everyone needs a few minutes to get organised, but the delay makes me nervous. We need to make the danger clear to them as soon as possible. I don't want to see another Thessia.'

'Nobody does,' Lorica agreed morosely. 'Speaking of the asari, we got eyes on the embassy network?'

'The worm's doing its work. It's already spread to the nearest colony government networks but that's not going to do us much good. I doubt whoever stole the Destiny Ascension schematics broke into the military net from way out in the sticks.'

'Maybe not, but it's going to take some time to work its way into the high security networks.'

Lina dipped her helmet. 'What choice do we have? All we can do is wait. I've got Mike on it for now, he's monitoring the spread in between all this.' She looked back at Lorica. 'How's Officer Lang? Did he have any trouble with the asari ambassador?'

A disturbed look came over Lorica, gone as quickly as it came. 'No, but he did say she was behaving a little strangely. How did he put it? It was "like he walked in on a turian coming out of a salarian-only massage parlour". I don't get the joke but either way, she didn't want to talk much until she realised he wasn't there for whatever reason she assumed at the start.'

Snorting, Lina gestured dismissively. 'She's a politician. Who knows what kind of dirty laundry she's hiding?'

'I hear you, but don't worry, she's clean. I ran a check on her personal files as soon as the worm was in. Nothing beyond an outstanding parking ticket, but that's only because Enforcement didn't flag her diplomatic immunity.'

'Either way, you two did a great job once again. Where is he now?'

'Eddie? I told him to go home and get some sleep, then report back here when he's gotten a shower and a change of clothes.'

'Thank goodness for that. I could smell him even through my olfactory filters.'

Chuckling, Lorica glanced over at her section, where Kim, Ket and Mike were immersed in their individual tasks. Lina saw a multitude of emotions in the asari's exhausted face as her eyes glistened.

'She's fine,' Lina persuaded her. 'In fact, she's better than fine. I don't know where she gets her energy.'

'She's still young,' Lorica replied with a weary chuckle. 'Tires me the hell out sometimes, but I'm glad to hear she's doing okay. I was worried, with all that's going on I haven't been able to properly gauge how Kim's coping.'

As if in answer, Kimberley's voice piped up from the tiers. 'Commander? Chief Carter of Milgrom PD on a secure line. Do you want me to send him through to your office?'

Lina went back to poring over the dais consoles. 'No, here's fine. Patch him through.'

Lorica dismissed herself as the terminal in front of Lina spiked with static, and the commander waited until it settled before speaking.

'Chief Carter, this is Commander Lina'Xen of Citadel Security's Joint Security Task Force. Are you reading me?'

'Loud and clear,' the human answered. His voice was throaty and rough, but professional nonetheless. 'We received word through the Alliance that we're not to engage our hostage takers. Am I to assume this bomb threat we've been hearing about on the Citadel has now moved onto Bekenstein?'

'Correct. The perps are in possession of a suitcase bomb, a nuclear weapon. It is stable, which is more than we can say for the man holding it. Let me make this clear, Chief; all they have to do to arm the bomb is open the case. Once armed, it can't be disabled. It'll automatically activate a ten minute timer and then even the most talented bomb squad in the galaxy won't be able to defuse it.'

'Understood,' Carter confirmed. 'Before we continue, I have to make one thing clear, Commander. A lot of my people are concerned about alien authority on a human world. They're worried you might not show the same regard for our civilians that you would your own and I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't relay these concerns.'

Lina inhaled deeply, hiding her frustration. 'Chief, we represent Citadel Security. We're a multi-species organisation composed of many races. It was a human who put you through to me in the first place. The reason we're even having this conversation is because we hold all lives equal in value; if we didn't, then allowing you to assault the bank and forcing a detonation off-station would be a rather convenient solution for us, wouldn't you agree?'

A short grunt came from the other end. 'Of course. I'll make sure my people keep that in mind. So what's the game plan here?'

'Simple. We keep watching the perps until they move on. We already know what they want, so don't be fooled by any demands they come out with. Just stall them until the Spectre arrives and we'll see which way they want to play this before coming to a decision.'

She didn't add that Spectre authority exceeded her own, and they may not hold innocent life as sacrosanct as JSTF did.

'However,' Lina quickly added, 'if the perps request a transport off-planet, you have our clearance to organise it immediately and forward us the transponder codes. If we can disable their vessel in space, whether they take hostages with them or not, that's going to be the best solution.'

Lina didn't truly believe they would get that lucky twice, but the words needed to be said. She heard Chief Carter mumble a few words to a subordinate before responding.

'Understood. Anything else we need to know?'

'Just to prepare your people for the worst. The leader of this crew is sadistic and will likely try to provoke an armed response. You must not force him into opening that bomb case, that means not firing on them even if fired upon, not even if they start killing hostages. While we hope to get everyone out alive, it's a couple of dozen lives versus a couple of million. Never forget that.'

'We know the stakes. I just hope this Spectre of yours is good.'

'They're…the best,' Lina said grudgingly. After Saren Arterius and his geth rampaged through the Citadel only six months prior, the Spectres' reputation had suffered, even if their authority hadn't. She didn't like their involvement any more than the chief did.

'I'll pass you back through to Agent Farrell, she'll be your liaison from here on out. And on a personal note, Chief, thank you. I wouldn't be happy taking orders on my home turf either, but your cooperation is going to save many lives.'

'We'll do our part. Godspeed, Commander.'

Lina had heard this human expression only once before and didn't fully grasp its meaning, though she understood the sentiment. She nodded sharply.

'Keelah se'lai.'

She transferred the channel back over to Kim and busied herself with a dozen tasks at once. All the dais terminals were dedicated to data feeds and comm transcripts, each relaying instantaneous updates on the developing crisis on Bekenstein from hundreds of sources, all filtered through the analyst teams. When Lina was focused, the information ceased to be words and numbers and instead became a sort of second consciousness - she didn't need to think about what she was reading to extract the important facts from each update.

The main screen showed several live feeds from Bekenstein news outlets, as well as armour cam footage from officers at the police cordon. The shifting images cast on Lina's visor warped across the glass as her head whipped up, alerted by a shouted exclamation from Mike.

'Commander! We've got eyes on Jaeger via MPD's sniper team. Ma'am, you're gonna want to see this!'

Lina's pale eyes narrowed as a window was enlarged on the main screen. It showed a vast cityscape, rendered dull and flat in monochromatic blue. The image zoomed in, further and further until it rested on the First Colonial's front windows. Through them, Zwei's and his gang were clearly visible and Lina's breath caught in her chest as she saw something she'd spent many hours desperately wanting to see.

Arlen was there, the dark curves of his fringe unmistakeable despite the poor quality of the footage. Lina's heartbeat quickened and emotion threatened to overwhelm her. A great deal of strength was needed to quell it as she spoke loudly and clearly.

'Okay, people, it's confirmed; we have an agent on the ground. Let's do everything we can to bring him home in one piece.'

~~~ME-I2~~~

Antus was busy drafting an official mail to the volus ambassador when he heard the first footsteps to grace the embassy corridor all day. It had been exceedingly quiet, more so than usual, and Antus was grateful for the lack of disruption to catch up on some clerical duties, but his irritation at the interruption instantly turned to shock as Ciro emerged at the end of the hall.

The turian ambassador held himself stiffly as he walked, and he kept his eyes on Antus as he neared. It was unusual, enough for Antus to curl his fingers into tight, anxious fists on his desk, the only indication of the sudden fear that washed through him.

He ensured he was the first to speak. 'Sir, this is a surprise. I wasn't expecting you in today. Did you forget something?'

Ciro hesitated, another strange thing to see in the ambassador. Antus kept himself as calm as possible.

After a few moments, Ciro smiled. 'Yes, as a matter of fact. Antus, I received a private message from a friend of mine, she said she left something here for me yesterday morning. I assumed she would've given it to you for safekeeping.'

The pin. Antus ground his teeth behind his lips and mandibles. He'd left it with Novari. Of all the things to forget…

On impulse, he frowned in feigned confusion and shook his head slowly. 'I'm sorry, Sir, I haven't taken delivery of anything. Not since those classified datapads at the beginning of the week.'

Ciro's eyes shifted downwards, a flicker of uncertainty. 'Oh? My friend was quite clear, she definitely dropped something off here. Perhaps she left it in your desk?'

Antus stepped to one side. His movements were smooth and easy, betraying nothing of his nerves. 'You can look if you want, Sir. I keep my desk locked, though, as protocol demands. I assume this package was too valuable to leave on my desk unattended while I wasn't around?'

'I imagine so,' Ciro answered. He waved a hand to indicate he wasn't interested in searching the desk. 'She was quite specific. She said she dropped the package off with my assistant.'

Antus' thoughts raced. Again, he spoke very slowly and deliberately. 'Perhaps she…left it with another member of the embassy staff, thinking he was your assistant? I can ask around the building for you, if you'd like?'

The seconds drew out in painful silence as Ciro digested his words. A thousand consequences played out in Antus' mind, torturing him with thoughts of trial and prison, all of which he managed to conceal behind an expression of mild concern.

He wanted to sigh in relief as Ciro finally bobbed his head, seemingly satisfied.

'Very well,' the ambassador said, though his voice held a flat, subtle note of suspicion. 'If you'd be so good as to handle that for me, Antus, I'd very much appreciate it. Hopefully it's as you say, and someone else is holding onto the package. Do be so good as to message me if it turns up.'

'Of course, Sir,' Antus said with an obedient dip of his head. He kept it down as Ciro departed, and only when the corridor had gone quiet did Antus dare to raise it again, his eyes filled with terror.

~~~ME-I2~~~

A large collection of holographic clocks adorned the wall above the First Colonial's teller stations, displaying the time on Bekenstein, Earth, the Citadel and more. Barely an hour had passed since Arlen last glanced at them, though it felt like an eternity.

The hostages still maintained a muffled silence, the threat of Naraya's temper keeping even the most uncontrollable pangs of fear in check. The more their tear-rimmed eyes kept turning to Arlen, the harder it became to maintain his grim mask.

'Won't be long now,' Tuvia announced, her voice like a gunshot in the tense quiet. 'The upload's begun. We just need access to Hock's accounts, the parameters aren't set already like they were in the casino.'

Zwei reacted immediately, striding over to a middle-aged man in a sharp white and blue suit.

'You, manager man,' he snapped, shifting his grip on the T-Seven's handle enough to be able to grip the man's collar with two fingers. He violently jerked the manager to his feet. 'Go over there and give my friend what she needs.'

The manager quivered and held up his hands plaintively, stammering, 'I-I don't…I d-don't know-'

His voice rose into a cry as the butt of Zwei's Locust whipped out, cracking against his nose. Zwei sneered and gestured with his weapon.

'Yes you do, so don't piss me about. We need the details of a very special client of yours and you're gonna bring them up for that lovely turian over there. Don't worry, she's an easy girl to please. But if she ain't happy in the next two minutes, then you'll be looking at the other end of this gun, understood?'

The manager nodded miserably and staggered over to assist Tuvia. Arlen watched him for a moment before looking back to the bomb in Zwei's hand.

Time was running out. The window to act was getting ever smaller and Zwei hadn't once released his hold on the T-Seven for a single moment. Arlen ran through his choices; a depressingly short list. He knew Zwei wouldn't be leaving Bekenstein unless Donovan Hock was dead, or to follow him off-world and this destructive vendetta would endanger even more innocent people.

A low rumble came from overhead. It was the unmistakable drone of a gunship's engines, no doubt a police craft keeping the airspace around the bank clear. Tuvio had long released Zwei's statement to the authorities, a bragging litany telling them about the T-Seven, and threatening the utter obliteration of their city if they dared interfere in his business. So far it had worked but that wasn't something Arlen wanted to count on lasting forever.

He blinked. Zwei lounged close to Tuvia as the bank manager did their bidding, while Tuvio was preoccupied with using his omni-tool to hack into a nearby ATM terminal. Arlen once more found himself wishing Petra was there, already having thought of a dozen distractions his AI companion could have caused to give him an opening. He felt powerless, and every muted whimper from the civilians huddled at his feet only increased that feeling.

Naraya drew near, her hawkish gaze firmly on the hostages, and Arlen made his decision.

He moved, all his exhaustion and injuries melting away in a single moment of adrenaline. It only took a heartbeat and Arlen was too quick for Naraya, especially with her attention focused elsewhere.

The asari cried out as he took her wrist and twisted it, the joint cracking as her shotgun clattered to the ground. He looped her arm back over and around her neck, and Naraya's eyes were wide with horror as Arlen's pistol dug into the side of her head.

'What the hell?' she screamed hoarsely. The shout covered those of Zwei's gang as the turian twins reacted instantly, levelling their weapons at Arlen and his captive.

'Pavek?' Tuvia snarled. 'What are you doing? Are you insane?'

The hostages too began to scream, adding to the chaos. Naraya's feet scrabbled against the floor and she choked as Arlen dragged her back, her own arm pressing tightly against her throat. He put their backs to the wall to stop the gang circling around.

'This has gone far enough!' Arlen yelled. 'I can't allow this to continue, Jaeger. Release these people, put the bomb on the ground and step away from it slowly!'

Zwei glared at him from beneath lowered brows. Unlike the twins, he hadn't rushed to confront Arlen. Instead, he paced languidly at the periphery of the room, his expression calm but eyes filled with savage intent.

Tuvio primed his shotgun. 'I knew we couldn't trust him! It was all too damn convenient, all of it!'

Still Zwei said nothing. He walked towards Arlen and Naraya, his fingers flexing around the handle of the T-Seven case.

For a moment, Arlen knew hope. He'd seen how close Zwei and Naraya were, the bond they shared. He already predicted the others would break if Zwei could be removed, but that hadn't been possible. Would it work the other way around? It was a risk Arlen had to take.

'That's close enough!' Arlen barked. To make his point, he pushed the barrel of his pistol further into Naraya's skull, making her groan in pain. 'Put the bomb on the ground, along with your weapon. Your lackeys can do the same.'

'This guy really is crazy,' Tuvia spat. She leaned forward a little, like a leashed animal straining against its collar, waiting for the order to kill. 'Let's smoke 'em both and get outta here, Boss.'

'Fuck you!' Naraya hissed from between bloody lips.

'Shut up, all of you!' Zwei snapped. His head snapped between the twins. 'Drop the pieces, both of you.'

Arlen's heart raced. It was working.

He waited until both Tuvio and Tuvia had relinquished their weapons and moved away before speaking again. 'And you, Zwei. Do as I say and I won't have to hurt your girlfriend here.'

The lobby became very still. The hostages could barely breathe. All eyes were on Zwei as he shifted his grip on his Locust.

He shrugged. 'What? This girlfriend?'

He raised the Locust and fired. A chorus of screams followed and Arlen staggered back, closing his eyes against a spray of dark blood.

Naraya collapsed dead at his feet, her face frozen in a look of pain that went beyond the bullet that had pierced her chest.

Arlen's face was slack with disbelief. His armour had stopped Zwei's round but as his eyes rose from Naraya he saw the Locust still trained over him.

Zwei stared at him. There was no remorse, no conscious thought that Arlen could see running through that twisted mind. As the turian twins made for their guns once again, all Arlen could see was his own death in the gaping maw of the Locust's barrel.