MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Twenty-Two*

Arlen weighed up his chances. In a heartbeat, his trained instincts had made a subconscious analysis of his situation. It was one of the dozens he'd been considering throughout the bank siege but it was, without a doubt, the worst case scenario.

Zwei was joined by the turian siblings, one at either side of Arlen, now approaching with weapons drawn. Neither would fire unless Zwei gave the order but if Arlen knew the man, he would want the pleasure for himself. Naraya's lifeless body pressed down on Arlen's armoured foot but he made no move to shake her off. Even the smallest motion could be his last.

The police gunship passed by overhead again, rattling the loose objects and debris strewn across the marble floor. It was a vise, winding the tension ever further. Arlen's eyes swept from side to side, keeping track of the twins. If only one of them got in close, he could rely on his armour's shields to stop a shot or two while he disabled and disarmed them. Zwei wore no armour, though he was a strong biotic, capable of generating a barrier as sturdy as any shield.

It didn't matter how things played out; it was three on one against armed and skilled opponents without the element of surprise. Arlen knew his life was coming to an end.

Zwei's colourless gaze was bright with violent energy, clear and glistening as he watched Arlen's expression. Then, to the Interceptor's surprise, he grinned. It split his face in two as he hacked out a laugh.

'I was wondering when we'd finally meet face to face,' he sneered. 'About time you showed yourself, Kryik.'

Arlen's eyes widened. 'You know who I am?'

'You think I wouldn't find out who put my boy Ronnie away? The grapevine's buzzin' with the news of how some turian kid took down my best man with nothing but his fists.' Zwei shrugged. 'You do a good Terminus accent, I'll give ya that, but no pirate could do what you did back on the Purgatory. I might be a nutter, but I'm not a complete idiot. I had you sussed since Aria filled me in.'

His mouth dry, Arlen worked his lips, struggling to comprehend. 'Aria knew?'

Zwei tilted his head briefly in acknowledgement. 'She knew the pig who took down Ronn was after me, and that he wasn't on the Citadel. I put two and two together, even though I couldn't believe C-Sec would be able to pull something like this off so quick. They couldn't organise an orgy in a brothel.'

Tuvio and Tuvia were slack-jawed, each as shocked as Arlen at what they were hearing.

The former's weapon lowered involuntarily as she gestured wildly. 'Are you serious? You knew all along? Why didn't you tell us?'

'Because,' Zwei began slowly, without taking his aim off Arlen, 'you didn't need to know. Besides, call me a sentimental sod but I quite like this lad.' He paused to glance at Tuvia, just a flicker of the eyes. 'Oh, stop acting so precious! It livened up the trip, didn't it?'

Tuvia's brother took a look at Naraya's body and snorted. 'Not for all of us.'

Zwei chuckled harshly. 'That's the spirit! See, Kryik, this is what I love about my little crew. They always look on the bright side.'

Arlen ground his teeth angrily and shouted, 'Why? Why play along all this time if you knew I wasn't who I said I was?'

'Because I knew you wanted this,' Zwei answered, lifting up the T-Seven. 'And I knew that so long as I kept this away from you, you wouldn't try anything foolish. I figured that with you tagging along to Hock's place, our chances of getting out alive would've been plenty improved when I shot my way out of there.'

'You had no intention of making a deal with Hock,' Arlen seethed.

'Nah. I was planning to rob him blind, but he decided to double cross me first. You did a hell of a job, by the way. Exceeded my professional expectations by a mile. So much that I thought I'd let you off the leash a little, see just how far you were willing to go.' Zwei dipped his head a little in acknowledgement. 'Not that I don't appreciate you taking your chances just now, trying to use Naz as leverage. You even took me by surprise with that little move.'

'I should've known better than to think you actually cared about her,' Arlen said bitterly.

'Yeah, you probably should. But give yourself some credit, we've only known each other a few days and you know me better than most.'

There was no response. A long hush fell upon the scene, with only the gunship engines and incessant bleating of distant sirens to break it. Zwei's finger tightened on the trigger, and Arlen closed his eyes.

'You know what?' the human murmured.

Arlen opened his eyes again, surprised to see the Locust now pointing at the ground.

Zwei raised an eyebrow. 'Since I like you so much, and a part of me's just so damn curious how you managed to take Ronnie down, I'll cut you a deal.' Tuvio and Tuvia gaped at him as he gestured with the Locust, cutting small circles with the barrel. 'You and me, one on one. Hand to hand. Last man alive wins. You win, you get the bomb and the twins here can negotiate a flight off-world in exchange for these plebs. I win? Well…' He chuckled. 'Well, you'll be dead, so what do you care?'

Arlen's fists lay at his side, his fingers flexing as if to choke the air.

'You're a sick bastard,' he muttered.

'As I said,' Zwei replied with his crescent grin, 'you know me better than most. Still, I don't think you'll get a better offer, do you?'

The question didn't warrant an answer. Instead, Arlen fixed a baleful stare on Zwei as he contemptuously heaved Naraya's corpse away with his foot. He moved slowly but with enough deliberation to make his intent perfectly clear, ignoring the twins completely. He paced into the centre of the lobby, bracing his shoulders so he stood upright and proud, as a proper turian should be.

Arlen was not afraid as he faced his enemy, and Zwei's grin lessened at the sight of it.

'Let's get it over with,' Arlen said quietly.

The smile returned to Zwei's lips in full force. He held out his arms, offering both the bomb and the Locust to the remaining members of his crew. Tuvia carefully took hold of the T-Seven while Tuvio took the submachine gun, reaching around awkwardly to take the replica from a holster in the small of Zwei's back.

The human rolled his shoulders and moved his head from side to side, working out the kinks in his muscles. He moved energetically on the balls of his feet, placing one foot in front of the other and bouncing lightly in place.

Arlen dimmed his awareness of everything else around him. He ignored - had to ignore - the gaping eyes of the hostages, as well as the bitter glares of the twins. No one would interfere in this; there was too much of a maniacal certainty in Zwei's eyes to even consider that he wished another to take Arlen's life. Knowing only moments remained before the fight began, Arlen focused.

His opponent was a biotic, a strong one, but Arlen had taken precautions. He'd prepared. His armour was thick and sturdy, the outer plating reinforced with biotic-nullifying dampener layers. He was an expert in close combat, trained from childhood by the Iron General, Renius Kryik. Much as he hated the old man, Arlen hoped his spirit was watching to lend him strength.

There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do. Both men sensed it and Zwei's suit fluttered, then flapped wildly as a sheath of cool blue wreathed his body. It was like fire - no, not fire, but a storm - that consumed him.

He let out a single, coughing laugh, and yelled, 'Let's get on and have a bloody fight!'

The words were pierced by a boom that made Arlen's ears pop.

~~~ME-I2~~~

The command centre had exploded with noise and frenetic activity.

'Shots fired!' one analyst exclaimed. 'Confirmed, we have shots fired inside the bank.'

'We're not getting a clear visual,' Kim barked in response. 'What the hell's happening out there? Anybody have ears on MPD's comms?'

Lorica hurried from Kim's desk, crossing a stretch of the middle tier to reach another. 'Still nothing from MPD on the internal security net? Goddess, how hard can it be to get a remote login?'

A salarian voice spoke up and Ket wrung his hands. 'It's a secure proprietary network. Wherever there's money on Bekenstein, the people keeping it make sure it's as hard as possible for the authorities to get into their systems. I've already supplied MPD with some basic tech to force access, but I might as well have given those apes some clubs to bash their way in!'

Mike had only recently arrived back at his station and he announced loudly enough for them all to hear, 'Way ahead of you, Kim, radio chatter's going a mile a minute. Confirmation of shots fired, spotters report one casualty. Asari, possibly a hostage, they're not sure.'

'Who fired the shots?' Lorica called out. 'Come on, people! Can we get anything on what's going on in that bank?'

A turian responded from the upper tier, 'Another shot fired. No, wait. Now they're saying an explosion. That's impossible, we're looking at a live feed of the exterior and there's no sign of any explosion.'

Their voices continued as a fluctuating murmur in Lina's audio receptors. Behind her visor, her eyes flickered from one hastily-transmitted image to another on the main screen, though she didn't really know what she was looking for. Her grip on the dais railing tightened, until her knuckles ached.

Arlen was in there. That was all she knew. Though a part of her loathed the thought, she couldn't deny her private relief that he wasn't the victim of whatever gunfire was causing so much chaos. But more than her own selfishness, Lina hated the indecisiveness Arlen's sudden appearance had brought on. Inwardly, she screamed at herself to get moving, to start giving orders, to do something.

At last, she released her hold on the railing. She digested all she'd heard and seen, untangling the jumbled mess of confusion that had come about since those gunshots sounded from the bank.

'Kim!' she shouted, her helmet whipping round to face the human. 'Get Chief Carter on the line.'

'Yes, Commander.'

One of the dais terminals pulsed steadily, but not for long. Lina reached to key the signal into her suit comms, not wanting to strain to hear Carter over the furore of the command centre. It was a wise decision, as immediately her ears were filled with a cacophony of voices and sirens on the other end of the line, and Carter had to shout over it all.

'God damn it,' he began hoarsely, 'I hope you're calling to give the green light on an assault, Commander, because it's all going to hell here.'

'No,' Lina said emphatically. 'I appreciate this is difficult, Chief, but until we know exactly what's happening in there, we're not authorising a damn thing.'

'Why the hell not? Commander, with all due respect, we've got innocent people in there. I've got teams standing by and they're looking at me right now expecting orders. I understand what's at stake but you're asking a hell of a lot here, expecting us to sit with our thumbs up our asses waiting for something to happen.'

'It's not just the bomb.' Lina paused to shake her head slowly. 'Chief, we have an agent on the inside. It's possible he may have found an opportunity to end this.'

'What? When in God's name were you going to let us in on this?'

'We didn't know,' she bit back. 'We couldn't ascertain his location until now. In fact, we were almost convinced he was dead. It wasn't until your sniper teams managed to get a look inside the bank that we realised our agent was still alive. That's why we need a precise picture of the situation inside the building.'

Carter's tone had softened, but only a little. 'Your guess is as good as ours. Shots were fired and sniper teams just confirmed one fatality. One of the perps is down, the asari from what we can tell. But hell, if all this wasn't crazy enough…'

Lina waited, her two-fingers hands flexing impatiently by her sides. She caught the echoes of her own conversation as various analysts reported exactly what Carter just told her; one of Zwei's gang had been shot. Had Arlen made his move? The suspense was a grinding, screeching presence at the back of Lina's head, making it ache.

Her nerves frayed, and she snapped, 'What is it? What's going on?'

'I think your agent's been compromised.'

Lina's heart pounded. Some of the team glanced up at her from the tiers as her voice rose frantically. 'What do you mean "compromised"? Tell me what's happening!'

'There's been some kind of detonation. Not explosive. It's like somebody set off a hundred dazzler drones at once. There's activity inside the bank, looks like some kind of physical altercation between the perps. Sergeant, get those reporters back!' There was more shouting from Carter's end and he returned moments later, his frustration clear. 'Hold on, Commander, we've finally managed to tap into the building's security system. You should be getting a feed from the internal cameras any second now.'

Lina looked back over her shoulder, knowing the team would be hearing the same thing. 'On screen, now!'

The footage was already playing when she turned back. It was a few minutes old but Lina's heart leapt to see Arlen, very much alive if not entirely well. The young turian stood apart from the rest of Zwei's crew, across the lobby from the mass of hostages. Lina frowned as an asari wandered close to Arlen and he grabbed her, his arm snapping around her neck like a varren's jaws. Curiosity turned to alarm, and the task force let out a collective murmur as Zwei shot the asari and, after a short exchange, put away his weapon.

Lina's stomach clenched as the vid feed flickered with distortion and a bright light flared from Zwei. After that, it was only a few still frames that told them nothing; whatever happened from that moment on, it had damaged the camera lenses. The feed shifted from one camera to another but each was the same. Nothing but blocky, garbled images.

Lorica stood alongside her, her lips parted in astonishment. 'He's using biotics, no question about it. Those mass effect fields must be off the charts to create electronic interference like that.'

'What are Arlen's chances?'

The asari shook her head slowly, her gaze still fastened on the main screen. 'He's lasted this long. All we can do is hope, but…'

She couldn't finish. Lina didn't want her to. All they could do, all anyone could do, was watch and wait.

Kim's voice cracked out above the din. 'Commander! We've just had confirmation our Council Spectre is planetside and en route to the bank. ETA; seven minutes.'

'Keelah, finally some good news,' Lina muttered in relief. She brought up a hand to her helmet and thumbed the suit radio controls under her hood. 'Chief, we've finally got something positive to tell you. The Spectre assigned to this operation is almost there. Work with them, but try and do it quickly. I don't think our man on the inside has much time.'

'Music to my ears,' Carter replied with enough enthusiasm for all of them. 'Very well, Commander. It won't be easy, but we have options. I must remind you, however, that the bomb is our highest priority. We'll try and do something for your agent but he's a secondary concern, is that clear?'

Lina swallowed against her instinctive protests, knowing exactly how crazy they would've sounded to everyone around her, let alone the human police chief.

'Just try and get him back to us alive,' she said quietly, looking back up to the screen and its flickering, grainy picture of Arlen. 'He deserves better than to die in there.'

~~~ME-I2~~~

There wasn't much left of Arlen's face that still had sensation, but even through the numbness of the medigel and painkillers he felt the sheer force of Zwei's biotic charge as a rush of wind against his skin. He'd anticipated the move, having seen enough of his opponent by now to predict the first few moments of engagement, and he threw himself back.

Armour scratched stone as he rolled to one side, but Zwei was quick to recover. Another charge came and Arlen stumbled as the human crashed into him. This second impact had nowhere near as much power behind it as the first, and Arlen could see from Zwei's twisted look of anger that he'd rushed blindly into an attempt to knock Arlen to the ground.

Punches rained down on him. Zwei's sinewy arms were fast as they jabbed and probed, trying to find a way past Arlen's plated forearms. Each impact on the hard ceramic was enough to break knuckles but Zwei's fists were wreathed in a layer of biotic protection, and Arlen doubted the pain would stop him anyway. The man's eyes were wide and blazed with psychotic glee, matched only by the bright crescent of his smile.

'What you waiting for?' Zwei yelled breathlessly between blows. 'This is your chance, mate! Don't just stand there taking it! Show me what took Ronnie down! Show me!'

The pair shuffled quickly across the lobby as Arlen tried again and again to wrong-foot his opponent, but Zwei was sharp-minded despite the frenzy of his attacks. He matched Arlen in every small movement, and the hostages had no choice but to clear out of the way as Tuvio and Tuvia snarled orders to give the combatants more space.

Arlen read a wild hook and weaved to the left, his own fist curling around to connect with the side of Zwei's head in a heartbeat. The biotic barrier covering Zwei's skin rippled in response and no sooner had the punch connected when Zwei answered, his uppercut coming up only a hair's breadth from Arlen's chin. Turians were unaccustomed to kicking in their close quarters battles, but Arlen still managed to lift a leg, blocking the thrust of Zwei's knee, which in turn was only to draw his guard away from his exposed face and it almost worked. Arlen felt a whiff of air as he turned away from another deadly swipe, robbing it of force. The stench of hot sweat and blood that came with it made him want to gag.

The two men stood on the spot, moving with increasing desperation. Arlen's evasive techniques were fluid and disciplined but Zwei was relentless, his furious grunts pierced by the sharp thwacks of solid biotic mass on armour. Still, Arlen's trained mind had spent a long time taking stock of everything in his environment that could be used to his advantage, and it worked automatically now he'd drawn Zwei exactly where he could put those advantages to work.

As he leaned back to avoid another hook, his left hand took hold of a mobile terminal on a teller's counter. The device shattered into sparks and pieces of metal as it connected with Zwei's hand, leaving a splintered, jagged stave in Arlen's grip. He slashed out with it immediately, and Zwei let out a growl of pain as it slipped through the barrier to score a deep red line along his forearm.

'Little shit!' he roared, and Arlen closed his eyes against a blast of biotic force that crashed his back against the counter, sending his makeshift weapon skittering across the floor as he slumped to the ground.

'You ain't fighting fair, Kryik!' said Zwei as he leered down at Arlen. His breathing was ragged and heavy, and sweat poured from his skin, soaking his suit. Still, his grin remained and the fire of madness filled his gaze. 'You're my kinda guy!'

His foot came down on Arlen's wrist and though the armour protected his flesh, the bones of Arlen's hand that hadn't yet healed from his battle with Inamorda ground and twisted as Zwei put pressure on one side of his gauntlet, turning it in place. Arlen cried out and clutched at his hand.

'Oh, looks like we found a sore spot!' Zwei taunted. He leaned over slightly, watching with mock fascination as every small movement of his foot sent a spasm of agony through Arlen's arm.

The human's expression was terrifyingly sadistic. 'This doesn't hurt, does it? What I'm doing here? Maybe if I turn this way-'

He twisted his ankle and Arlen's hand tilted back, bringing a muffled cry from his lips.

'I'm sorry, mate. Was it better the other way?'

He snapped his weight back, and this time Arlen couldn't suppress a pained groan. Bright spots filled his vision and the spikes of torment flared even brighter than the low, smouldering hatred that made him ache to lash out, if only his failing body would let him.

He barely heard Tuvio yell, 'Come on, Boss! Quit playin' around and finish 'em so we can get outta here! This virus of yours is almost done!'

Zwei turned his sick glare over to the henchman. 'We'll go when I bloody well say we're done!'

It was a momentary distraction but it was all Arlen needed to throw all his strength into a single, heaving motion. He wrenched his arm from under Zwei's heel and swept out with his leg. His large, heavy turian limb connected and sent Zwei sprawling, and even the nimble human couldn't move quickly enough to stop Arlen's heavy suit pressing down on his chest.

All technique was cast aside, all pretences of a fight discarded as the two men thrashed on the ground. Arlen used the weight of his armour to keep Zwei pinned in place as he slammed his left forearm under the human's chin and pressed down as hard as he could.

'You bastard,' Arlen hissed wildly. He was trembling with pain and sheer rage, shaking drops of blue, red and purple blood down onto Zwei's face, where it mingled with sweat in muddy rivers. 'I'll kill you, by all the spirits I swear I'll end your miserable life right here and now!'

Zwei's skin grew flushed as he choked. His eyes were no longer gleaming but riven with panic and they turned up further into his skull with every fighting breath.

Tuvio and Tuvia took a few uncertain steps towards them but Arlen rasped, 'Stay back! One more step and I'll break his damn neck!'

Then, in spite of the crushing pressure on his throat, the smile returned to Zwei's lips. It was a clear struggle for him to turn his eyes down to face Arlen again, but once he did, he shuddered out a grating laugh.

'You missed yer chance, mate.'

It was like a grenade went off in Arlen's face. A colossal boom, a white flash and the lobby moved past him in a blur as he was thrown across the room in a gigantic biotic kick. He rolled across the floor, coming to a stop a short distance away from the lobby entrance. His senses were all but useless as he tried in vain to get to his feet. Nothing was working. He ordered, then pleaded with his arms and legs to move but there was only the slight drift of his fingers and a feeble scraping of his feet against the ground.

All sound had been replaced with a single, high-pitched note that droned on in his skull. Though the image was indistinct, he saw Zwei limping over to him. His own pistol was in Zwei's hand, his finger securely ensconced around the trigger as the barrel rose shakily to rest over Arlen's head.

'Gotta kill one more…'

The words were an echo in Arlen's ears. It didn't even sound like a human voice, rather the intonation of a thousand spirits that had come to witness the death of the one that had failed them in life. It was in these final moments that the only cohesive thought his mind was capable of forming screamed its regret that he hadn't killed Zwei when he had the chance. Petra was right all along, he realised, and he felt the AI's presence among those he'd let down.

'One more…' Zwei murmured groggily. 'Always, always in twos…'

~~~ME-I2~~~

Chief Carter stared at the front of the bank, its mirrored blue windows showing only the pristine Bekenstein sky. He knew that something was happening behind them, that whoever JSTF had in there was causing a major disturbance, and only the assurances from his shooters that no hostages had yet been killed had stopped him from ordering an assault and damning the consequences.

He sipped coffee from a paper cup as he watched, the motion little more than a reflex action. Not many of his people knew about the T-Seven, but that was going to change very soon. Word always found its way around the force and, with a few credits in the right place, one of the orbiting journalists would be able to wring the news from someone. Then it would be a panic.

He let out a deep, silent breath. The sun had already started to beat down on them all fiercely and he felt the tickle of sweat beneath the felt band of his peaked cap. He gripped the visor between two fingers and twisted it slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure but he knew the sweat had nothing to do with the rising temperature. For all he knew, that bomb was already armed and ticking away. At least it would be quick, from what he understood of the weapon specs, but that was hardly a comfort.

'Sir!' he heard Sergeant Nishan announce from some way to his left. He didn't move as she approached. 'Sir, the Spectre's here. We're going to start the briefing in-'

A voice interrupted her, deep and warm, but with a peculiar reverberation to it that Carter recognised as the vocal signature of the turian species.

'That won't be necessary, Sergeant.'

Carter glanced aside, but turned fully to the newcomer as he saw a tall, thick-limbed alien in shining black and green armour. The turian's distinctive crest and fringe were cracked and pitted with damage, appearing as segments of worn grey stone that had been ground into a powdery white around his mouth, clashing with the dark brown of his neck. Carter was almost ashamed to admit, even to himself, that this imposing alien had unnerved him after a mere glance.

'You're our Council Spectre?' he asked, almost cursing himself for doing so. What the hell else could this alien be?

The Spectre nodded. 'That's correct. I'm here to handle this little pest problem of yours. So, if it is agreeable, perhaps you'll allow me to get right to work.'

It was then Carter noticed that almost every surface of the Spectre's suit held some sort of weapon, some of which he didn't even recognise. There were the telltale outlines of stocked and folded rifles, shotguns and pistols but they sat next to oddly hinged boxes, speckled with the worn logos of unfamiliar manufacturers from distant worlds. It was the one that the Spectre drew from his back holster, however, that made Carter's eyes widen.

He'd seen weapons like it a hundred times in the hands of smugglers and mercenaries whom customs pulled aside for a friendly chat. It was a haphazard amalgamation of corrugated metal and thick tubes, with a large circular drum mounted halfway along. The M-100 grenade launcher was not a subtle firearm by any means, and that the Spectre held it with such comfortable familiarity brought a chill to Carter's blood.

'Now hold on there,' he began, gesturing to the bank. 'We've got innocent people in there, Spectre, not to mention a nuclear device that'll level this entire city if it goes off! I don't know what kind of briefing JSTF gave you, but I won't allow-'

'The Joint Security Task Force is a Citadel Security organisation,' the turian interjected, his gaze falling squarely on the bank. 'With all due respect, human, the Spectres don't answer to them, nor to you.'

Carter was dumbstruck as the Spectre pushed Sergeant Nishan aside and strode towards the bank. The sergeant looked at him plaintively, lost for words, and Carter's expression hardened.

'Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you, Spectre!' Carter fumbled as he dodged around various officers blocking his path. 'Listen here, God damn it, I had assurances that our authority would be respected! You're on a human world, this is our jurisdiction and I'll have you arrested if you endanger the lives of those citizens!'

The Spectre rounded on him suddenly and Carter stumbled to a halt to avoid crashing into him. The turian's eyes were ablaze with the kind of humbling confidence that Carter had shown many a perp in his time on the force, and rarely been on the receiving end of.

'Just try it, Chief,' the Spectre growled. 'But do keep in mind that I have the Council-given right to defend myself and make no mistake, I have the skill and the firepower to destroy you and every one of these rank and file amateurs. So what will it be?'

The armoury fastened to every part of the Spectre's body made it more than an idle threat. The first ablative suits and kinetic barriers were barely in the planning stages when Carter had first joined the force back on Earth, and he would've been the first to admit that he wasn't fluent in all the innovations that had come along since, but even he couldn't fail to realise this turian was a walking fortress. He wanted to believe no agent of the Citadel Council would sanction such a murderous retaliation but the truth was, he knew next to nothing of the Council or the Spectres, save that they were indeed above galactic law.

Carter shook his head feebly. 'This is nuts! I can't authorise-'

'Your authorisation is hardly required,' the Spectre said dismissively as he turned back to the bank. 'Just keep your people out of my way and let me do my job. It's time to end this.'

Carter could only watch in horror as the Spectre levelled the grenade launcher at the glass wall of the First Colonial.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Arlen closed his eyes against the light. The impact of Zwei's biotic attack had knocked him senseless but his reflexes still worked, and as the dark hole of the pistol barrel was replaced by the blinding white of an explosion, he thought the end had come. He knew those moments well now, when he was so ready for death that he almost welcomed it. He'd seen many of them, not just over the past year but even when he was a child, when his father would push him past the brink of his physical and mental limits and call it training.

Then, against all his expectations, glass shattered. The sound was dim and far away but unmistakable nonetheless. Shapes moved around him. Through a slit of waning vision as he slumped, supine on the marble floor, he could see Zwei raise his arms and a sphere of shimmering blue envelope him as smoke and shrapnel swallowed them all.

Was it the bomb? No, then he would see nothing. No sooner had the rush of fire and dust billowed into the lobby before it receded and everything was visible again. Arlen's fingers twitched towards the hostages as they screamed, but they were a fair distance away from the windows and though some were bleeding, he couldn't see any dead. He could hear nothing but a single, whining high note, so deep in his senses that he knew the noise wasn't in his ears. Heat licked at his skin and he guessed there was a fire nearby. It must have been so, because automatic sprinklers began showering them all with cold water moments later.

He used all his strength to roll onto his back, his broken lips moving. Maybe sound was coming from them, maybe not. It was impossible to tell. Another noise added itself to the ringing in his head; a fire alarm, the perfect companion to that incessant droning in his skull.

Then it hit him. He'd been here before.

'Amanda…' he whispered.

She was in the restaurant. She was in there and now it was all smoke and flames. Arlen's heart was gripped with fear as civilians streamed around him, oblivious to the injured turian at their feet. All they wanted was to get away.

He tried to shout but it was a pathetic mewling, 'Amanda…'

Smoke made his eyes water. Ash filled his lungs. Embers danced on the wind in front of his eyes as he let his head slide to one side, and the glare of daylight filled his gaze. Was it daylight, or simply fire? He didn't know, but he saw the silhouette of a turian in the middle of it all. The dark shape approached the gaping hole that was once the front of the bank as humans fled all around, screaming and weeping in terror. This turian walked with a certain kind of gait that Arlen had seen only once in his life, in one person.

Arlen wanted to reach out but his arm wouldn't work.

'Nihlus?' he asked aloud. He tried to motion towards his brother but, as the turian neared, he ignored Arlen completely.

Arlen knew his grip on his senses was slipping and he tried one last time to impose control. He saw the stone-grey skin of this newcomer, saw the sleek black armour with shining green panels. He moved with such ease and certainty, with the same edge of danger, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't Nihlus.

Arlen released a trembling breath. Nihlus was dead. Amanda was dead. He knew all this, but it still needed to be affirmed, if only to keep himself conscious. The bomb was what mattered. This was his chance, if only his body would move.

He lifted his head to make room for his fringe as he faced back up to the ceiling. The swirling, glowing specks from the fire danced against thick black smoke. He had to close his eyes again just to avoid falling to their hypnotic spell, and he pushed with all of his strength, trying to make something happen. Again, nothing. All he could do was collapse in defeat.

Arlen's head lolled to the side, his eyes tracking the turian as he crossed the room. He saw Tuvio and Tuvia. The brother had been standing near the windows and been propelled across the lobby by the explosion. He wasn't moving and a dark puddle of blood was spreading from his head. Tuvia was still alive, but badly wounded, and she crawled towards the newcomer.

The turian stopped, seemingly surprised to see another of his species. Without hesitation, the turian drew his pistol and shot Tuvia in the head before marching on. Tuvia's eyes rolled up in their sockets and her blue tongue protruded grimly from her jaw as ribbons of blood crept from the hole in her forehead. Arlen felt a stab of guilt through the muted shock at what he'd just witnessed. This did not feel like a just end, no matter what they'd done.

The newcomer strode to the tellers' counter, where a silver briefcase lay on the ground half-buried in rubble, and after a brief inspection the turian picked it up. There was a grin of satisfaction on his lips as he disappeared into the back rooms, and Arlen was left alone on the debris-strewn floor.

Underneath the confusion and disorientation of the last few moments, and as the past once again threatened to intrude on the present, Arlen knew at the back of his mind that Zwei was not among the dead.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Chaos engulfed the police cordon as officers rushed to secure the hostages flooding out of the bank. Voices clamoured for attention as warnings were yelled at reporters who strained desperately to get a few words from the frightened civilians, and they in turn were ordered back by officers trying to keep any semblance of order over the scene.

Chief Carter's throat was hoarse as he gave instructions to newly arrived fire marshals and ambulance crews, as well as the constant string of subordinates who came to him for further direction. The arrival of the Spectre had thrown all of their drills and contingencies into complete disarray, and when the turian had fired several grenades into the bank it had taken all of Carter's restraint not to order his people to unload on the bastard.

A small terminal had been set up on the roof of a patrol car. It was Carter's sole contact point for all the city officials, emergency services and press liaisons, and he struggled to answer their demands for updates alongside all the others.

'Yes, god damn it!' he replied to a shouted request. 'To hell with the Citadel, we've got aliens tearing up our city here. Send in the assault teams, now! And tell the mayor I'll give her a report as soon as we know what the hell there is to report!'

Sergeant Nishan called out from somewhere nearby, 'Chief, city engineers are saying the bank's structural integrity might have been compromised after those explosions, they don't want us sending anybody in there until they've made a proper assessment.'

'To hell with the engineers too, that damned Spectre didn't need their assessment before he went marching in there. I want any hostages left in that building extracted immediately.'

Above the throng, another voice spoke, but not one Carter recognised. It was a woman, her tone rough and pronounced, and it caught his attention instantly.

'I wouldn't wanna take that bet.'

Carter looked up, his angry retort melting in his throat at the sight of another alien, an asari from what he could recall. She wasn't quite beautiful, though she may have been once, before the unmistakable hardships of combat hardened her features. Her cyan skin was marked with purple paint, a pattern that almost resembled flames around her eyes and brows, along with a single line down the centre of her chin. Her armour was thick and expensive, a gleaming blue suit with a strange white logo on the pauldrons.

'And you are?' Carter asked, meeting her gaze squarely.

Her dark blue eyes held his unflinchingly.

'Tela Vasir. I'm your Council Spectre,' she responded, cocking a bare brow at the smoking ruin of the bank.

'Guess I'm a little late to the party.'