Mass Effect: Interceptor 2

by Mothbanquet

Six months after the Battle of the Citadel, Arlen Kryik is a prolific but burnt-out C-Sec agent on the trail of a sadistic criminal gang leader. As his path again crosses that of C-Sec's Joint Security Task Force, who are dealing with a major terrorist threat to the Citadel, Arlen faces a race against time not only to save lives but to avoid falling prey to his own personal demons.

23. Episode 23

MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Twenty-Three*

Though he'd managed to prevent himself from fully slipping into unconsciousness, Arlen struggled to maintain his wits as he sat in the back of an ambulance shuttle. The large rear doors were open and he perched on the edge of the deck, his long legs comfortably reaching the ground. His armour was, as it always seemed to be, pitted and blackened with damage. Still, even that seemed minor next to the state of his face.

That was the first assessment of the paramedics who now fussed over him. One, a bright-eyed young woman, was exuberant over the chance to work on an alien and she dabbed at him carefully with soft wads of some kind of material Arlen hadn't seen before. Whatever she was spreading over his brow and cheek plates stung mercilessly, but he knew the cool burn of disinfectant by now and bore the medics' attention without reaction.

His eyes remained on the ground below, distant and motionless. Whatever elation that came with the end of his ordeal was buried under the frustration of losing the bomb, losing Zwei, and more than anything, the loss of Petra. The operation had ended in failure, with the T-Seven now in unknown hands, and he'd been forced to leave a dear friend behind on Omega with no way of knowing if he would ever see her again.

Then, it all seemed to melt away. Perhaps his mind had finally broken down, or those two things simply cancelled one another out. As the humans swarmed past in all directions, a hundred murmured voices that blended into one, it dawned on Arlen that his failure was barely even a burden now, so hardened was his heart to grief. It washed away like the blood and soot from his skin. His mind only turned with thoughts of what he could do next, of getting back on the trail of the bomb and his lost fugitive. He wasn't going to give up, not until his final breath. His purpose was the only thing he had left. So long as he had the mission, he would keep going.

'Kryik?' someone asked. 'Arlen Kryik?'

At first, Arlen thought it was the medic's voice but it was too harsh, too grizzled. He lifted his head to find an asari standing with arms crossed, a coy expression twisting the purple patterns outlining her face. His eyes scanned her armour; heavy for an asari, and of far higher quality than used in their military or C-Sec. He did, however, recognise the logo emblazoned on her shoulders.

'Yeah,' he grumbled, not in the mood to be questioned by anyone, let alone a Spectre.

'Tela Vasir,' the asari said, taking a step closer. 'Special Tactics and Reconaissance. I just saw the highlight reel, before the cameras went out. Hell of a stunt you pulled back there.'

Arlen didn't respond. He wasn't especially proud of anything he'd done over the past few days, nor how events had transpired.

'You know,' Vasir continued, 'when your friends over in JSTF told me you'd shaved off half your face just to get in good with that Jaeger punk, I thought it was just some C-Sec joke I didn't get. Let me take a better look.'

She leaned over and Arlen drew away from the contact instinctively as she traced the outline of his shorn mandible with her finger.

Vasir let out a soft whistle. 'Now that's dedication. Shame it was all for nothing.'

'Are you here for a reason?' Arlen growled, finally meeting her gaze, 'or are you just here to play nursemaid?'

Vasir shrugged. 'Sure. If your idea of a bedside manner is a slug to the back of the head.'

'Hardly the worst treatment I'd have had this week.' Arlen flexed his fingers to work some blood around his aching limbs. After a few moments, he sighed. 'You're here for the T-Seven, I assume?'

'I'm sure not here for the sparkling conversation.'

Anger rose in Arlen but it was subsumed by exhaustion. He just didn't have the strength for an argument. 'Ask the guy who made off with it. I was too busy bleeding out on the floor to keep track.'

It was only a half-truth, but he was hardly ready to admit he was calling out for his lost brother like a child the whole time.

Vasir straightened and folded her arms again, and her tone grew hard. 'Yeah, yeah, I know. Big explosion. Like I couldn't tell by how pristine your armour is. But I don't believe a trained C-Sec investigator wouldn't have picked up a few key details, so enough with the tough guy act. Just tell me what you saw.'

It was petty, but Arlen wanted little more than to frustrate this Spectre. He ignored attempts by the paramedics to ease him back into position as he forced himself to his feet and stared at Vasir stonily.

'He was a turian,' he began as Vasir opened her omni-tool to record his statement. 'A little taller than me. Dark grey fringe, crest and sockets, white jaw and mandibles. Black medium armour with green trim, looked pricey. More guns than a krogan birthday party.'

The corner of Vasir's mouth lifted slightly. 'I like that one. Mind if I use it?'

'Be my guest,' Arlen replied mirthlessly. He shook his head. 'The guy executed one of the perps in cold blood, single shot to the head while she was crawling wounded along the ground. No interest in the hostages, or in making arrests. He was there for the bomb and nothing else.'

As the words came out, Arlen's mind automatically worked to put together a picture of this new suspect. The details were important, and Vasir listened intently as he went on.

'He knew what the bomb looked like and went straight for it. The T-Seven is a top-secret weapon developed centuries ago and sealed away on a moon that doesn't officially exist. You'd have to have access to the absolute highest levels of the turian government and military to know what it is, let alone where to find it.'

Lina's warning about Captain Ferrata filtered into his thoughts. Arlen was being watched by the turian army; could they have sent one of their black ops agents to track him and take back the T-Seven, avoiding any Council sanctions from their lapse in secruity? The implications made him frown and run a hand over his face wearily.

Vasir glanced up from her omni-tool. 'I know that look. This guy wasn't a friend of yours, I take it?'

'I don't even know how to begin answering that question,' Arlen admitted. 'I don't know what kind of briefing JSTF gave you, but there's definitely more to this than meets the eye. And it's probably best we don't talk about it in a public place.'

Vasir grinned, showing a flash of perfect white teeth as she closed her omni-tool. 'I just love conspiracies. A lot more fun than your usual go-here-blow-this-up operation. All right, Kryik, I'll bite. What d'ya say we have a private chat with your friends over on the Citadel? I've gotten all I can here, and Goddess knows that police chief isn't gonna be any more help. Come on, we'll do this inside the bank. The locals are too afraid it's gonna collapse on their heads to go anywhere near it but I've blown up enough buildings in my time to know we'll be fine. We'll have privacy, if nothing else.'

Arlen nodded, knowing he had little choice. He moved stiffly, wincing slightly as he tried to keep pace with Vasir as she made for the gutted shell of the First Colonial.

'Looks like our mystery turian used an old maintenance tunnel running under the building to escape,' she remarked. 'There's an unmarked hatchway in one of the back rooms that opens onto a bunch of service corridors, all of them leading out into the city's sewer system. I haven't checked it out yet but if I were to guess, I'd say they were built by the most corrupt city planner I've seen since Illium.'

'This isn't a city of saints, that's for sure.'

'Well, those are smuggler tunnels and our man knew all about them. He's a pro with his hands on the kind of blueprints you can't download from city hall. He's connected, and I'd bet my blue ass that somebody's laying down a lot of credits to get their hands on that bomb.'

Arlen staggered a little as the entirety of his journey played out in his mind's eye; from the moment Lina came to his apartment to his arrival on the Purgatory, from the grimy underbelly of Omega to the deadly beauty of Bekenstein. He had no doubt Vasir was right, but no amount of credits could buy the fear and agony the chase for that damn bomb had caused. His heart ached for Petra, a friend more valuable to him than anything in the galaxy. In that moment, he would have given anything to know she was listening on his omni-tool, ready to give her fiery opinion of this Spectre who had come to clean up his mess.

With that thought weighing heavily on his spirit, he didn't notice Vasir look over at him with keen interest. 'Have to say, Kryik, you're a tough kid. I don't know many turians a year out of boot camp who'd be able to take the kinda beating you have and still be breathing, never mind walking.'

'I didn't think JSTF would consider my age a pertinent factor in their briefing,' he said warily.

'I didn't hear it from them.'

Arlen was quickly growing annoyed with the Spectre's constant games, and he practically snarled his response. 'Then who?'

'Your name's a pretty famous one in STR,' Vasir said with a small grin, 'and I know there can't be too many Kryiks in the galaxy. Your brother used to talk about you a lot.'

Arlen halted involuntarily, seized by shock. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised to hear it, but the past year had been spent in mourning that could never heal as the realisation came that the Spectres would never release the details of his brother's disappearance.

'You knew Nihlus?' he asked, unable to keep the trace of hope from his voice. 'Can you tell me what happened to him?'

Vasir's smile disappeared. 'Yeah. I did and I can. I'll tell you what. You seem pretty tight with this task force of yours. Make sure I get everything I need, that they're not holding anything back, and I'll tell you what you need to know about Nihlus. Favour for a favour.'

Arlen nodded. It was better than anything he could've hoped for going through official Council channels.

'Deal.'

~~~ME-I2~~~

The Wards were hardly ever a destination for Ciro, save for the occasional diplomatic function in the asari-dominated Tayseri Ward. He'd seen so many operas at the Dilinaga Concert Hall over the years that he couldn't distinguish between the performances and the political charades that took place afterwards, where his peers would laugh and lie over expensive drinks.

He felt distinctly out of place in Zakera, particularly the maze-like marketplace in which he found himself. It was a district built into the vast sloping hull of the Ward arm, nestling along the inner surface of its side and filling the space with light and noise. There were species he'd almost forgotten existed, so seldom were they seen anywhere else; krogans and quarians, namely, and he had to fight to keep his eyes forward and not stare at them as they passed. Steam seeped from vents overheard, blurring the neon signs into a swampy haze of colour, and the voices - so many voices! It was the furthest thing possible from the ordered calm of the Presidium and Ciro was ashamed that he'd forgotten what the beating heart of the Citadel was truly like.

He gave a quiet apology to a salarian he bumped into as he passed. The streets were getting narrower and he wondered if he'd ever find his destination. The directions Eris gave him were long and thorough but they involved turning at a certain imported food kiosk where half a dozen others were present, or looking out for brightly-lit signs that were barely functioning. Ciro considered it a minor miracle that he finally managed to locate a tall block of apartments on the corner of a busy intersection, the words Paradise Rise glaring uncomfortably in bright orange against the hazy dark blue of the ceiling high above.

A haptic panel at the door gave a cycling list of more than a hundred apartment numbers and Ciro found Eris' immediately. He pushed the holographic button and it was only a few moments before the young asari's voice sounded over the intercom.

'Yes?'

'Eris, it's me,' Ciro announced.

'Oh!' she exclaimed in surprise. 'Come on up, the door's open.'

He passed a hand over the door panel and it slid open to reveal a basic but clean hallway bathed in teal light. He entered, grateful to leave the thick crowds behind. He'd wondered all the way there why Eris was forced to live in such accommodations when the asari embassy should have provided Presidium lodgings for all its staff. Perhaps they did not do so for their most junior employees, though the more Ciro thought about it, the more he supposed the location suited her. She was, after all, a keen student of other cultures and where better to learn about them than amongst them?

I know a few people who could benefit from the same attitude, he mused as he stepped into a nearby elevator. Most ambassadors were so out of touch with the common folk of the galaxy that they could use a few years living in those packed terraces. He then sniffed the sleeve of his suit, which had taken on some of the more floral notes of the marketplace, and grimaced. Maybe not.

He stepped out onto the fifth floor and began scanning the door numbers. Again, he was struck by how well-kept this building was. A keeper stood by some kind of maintenance terminal, prodding away at the controls as they so often did, oblivious to his presence as he passed by. At last, his long journey came to an end as he stopped in front of his destination and rang the door buzzer.

It opened to reveal Eris, bare-shouldered in a figure-hugging red dress with fingerless gloves that ran all the way up her arm. She smiled at him and, somewhat awestruck by her beauty, Ciro had to remember to smile back.

'Come in,' she said cheerfully, speaking over her shoulder as she led the way. 'Did you manage to find the place okay?'

'It wasn't without challenge,' he replied as he followed, closing the door behind him, 'but it was a good experience for me all the same. You know, I hadn't realised just how long it's been since I last visited this part of the Citadel.'

Eris led them out of a small hallway and into a wide living room with a large window looking out on the neon markets. It wasn't as large as a similar place on the Presidium would've been, but it was pristine and homely, with all manner of curious cultural knick knacks lining the walls. Paintings and posters were the main attraction, some of which Ciro recognised, such as the truly awful first Blasto the Hanar Spectre movie. Still, there were others that were far more tasteful, such as a mournful-looking human holding a guitar, and a famous asari period actress portraying one of most well-known roles. Though Ciro didn't care much for most of them, he couldn't deny that taken together, the collection was more than eclectic enough to draw the eye. Whether she knew it or not, Eris had a natural gift for décor.

Eris noticed that he'd stopped to peruse long before Ciro himself did. She doubled back, the warm smile still on her lips. 'See anything you like?'

The picture of the asari actress had indeed drawn his gaze. It wasn't a printed poster, he saw on closer inspection, but a real painting with exquisite body and texture. The subject was layered in light ceremonial robes, staring out upon a dour grey ocean, her expression one of such melancholy that Ciro couldn't help but wonder what great loss she had suffered. She was an older asari, one of their Matriarchs, perhaps, with pale blue skin and jewel-like scales like dark sapphires running along the length of her head ridges.

'I-yes,' he stammered. 'I was just thinking, I could swear that I know her from somewhere.'

'I daresay you do. That's an artist's impression of Matriarch Dilinaga, one of the greatest artists and thinkers in our people's history.'

'Oh, I assumed she was a contemporary actress. So, this is what the great Dilinaga looked like?'

Eris hefted her shoulders. 'Probably. I'm sure there are plenty of real pictures of her around, but when an artist's work becomes more than they are, I guess their image has to get grander to match. I mean, can you imagine a philosopher and poet of her stature looking like she's just stepped off the shuttle like the rest of us?'

Ciro chuckled at the thought. 'Well, I'd imagine those robes of hers would get caught in the doors a lot.'

'And they're not exactly fashionable these days. Unless you happen to be my mother.' Eris took a few paces and stopped in front of another picture. 'This one's my favourite.'

Ciro joined her in looking at a large portrait of a human atop a strange white animal, two of its four legs reared in the air while its rider sat with clear skill, staring at the onlooker with a look of challenge. It was a male human dressed even more ostentatiously than Matriarch Dilinaga, with a grand semi-circular hat and high-collared jacket lined thickly with gold, with breeches and boots to match. A large red cloak billowed about him as he pointed to the sky with one hand, and Ciro didn't need to be told that this was some kind of military leader.

'Who is it?' he enquired as his eyes traced a hundred small details, from the ornate sword at the man's hip to the legion of blue and white-clad soldiers struggling up a hill behind him.

'One of humanity's most famous generals, a man called Napoleon,' she replied with quiet awe. 'I did my foreign history thesis on him, back in Armali University. The asari don't have too many venerated military leaders, and the humans had only just entered the galactic community at the time. It seemed fitting, given the nature of their introduction to the galaxy.'

'I…didn't realise you were so young,' Ciro murmured. He'd known Eris was a maiden, but to have only finished her principal education just after the Relay Three-Fourteen Incident must have made her little over a hundred, if that. He cleared his throat. 'So, what is it about this painting you like so much?'

Eris thought on the question for a moment. 'When Napoleon came to power, the krogan rebellions were already a distant memory for us. This man rose to become an emperor at a time of enormous change for the humans, but it was only a few centuries before the First Contact War, and now they're a member of the Citadel Council. I suppose it reminds me of just how slowly the rest of us move by comparison. It's…breathtaking really, if you think about it. What other species in the galaxy has come so far, so quickly, without a Council race to uplift them?'

Ciro nodded slowly. 'While I can't speak for the asari, I can tell you there are many among my own kind who see that kind of advancement and wonder just how far the humans will go, and what they will demand to get it.'

'Is that their fault, or ours? Perhaps we're simply complacent, coasting through the centuries, happy to feed off the technological scraps the protheans have left us.'

'Is that so wrong?' Ciro asked, glancing at her. 'To be content with what we have when it serves our needs so well?'

'I don't know if it's a question of right or wrong,' Eris answered, staring at the painting with an unreadable expression. 'I sometimes wonder if the humans will be leading us one day, dragging us all along whatever path they seemed destined for. But then I remember their sacrifice to save the Council and I can't help but feel grateful they're here.' She blinked and, composing herself, gave a small laugh and pointed to the animal in the picture. 'I have always wondered, though, what it'd be like to ride one of those. They call it a horse.'

'Maybe you will, one day. When you visit Earth on one of your diplomatic tours.'

Eris snorted and turned away. 'Not at the rate I'm going. Things aren't going too well at work and I don't think Ambassador Novari will tolerate me for much longer.'

Frowning, Ciro followed her as she stepped away from the portrait and settled down on a small but soft-looking couch in the centre of the room.

'That's surprising,' he said as he settled next to her. Two bottles of asari wine - one dextro-friendly - and two glasses sat on a low table in front of them. 'You mentioned her before, but if you've been working as hard as you study then you should be the model protege.' He rested his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers thoughtfully as Eris poured the wine. 'I didn't want to disparage a peer before, but now I'm wondering if she's as abrasive behind the scenes as she is in her business dealings. If that's the case, and she's purposefully stunting your career, then that's a serious problem.'

'You think she's difficult to deal with?' Eris shook her head as she handed a glass to Ciro. 'She's much, much worse when nobody's around to hear her. I didn't want to say anything bad about her before either, she is my boss, after all but I can't hold it in anymore. Novari is insulting, rude, spiteful and she's made my life here a living hell.' She twisted the stem of her glass in her grip, making the wine inside rock gently from side to side. 'I was warned about her, you know? Before I applied for this position. I was told that Ambassador Novari was hard to work for, that this was a high turnover job. I just didn't realise she was the reason for that turnover.'

Though Ciro was appalled to hear it, deep down he'd always known it to be true. Novari was not particularly well-liked in the diplomatic community, but he'd always excused her manner as a necessity, even an asset. Her success over the years spoke for itself in that regard, but now Ciro saw the cost; many young and promising careers cut short for the sake of her ego. He would not judge that a fitting price for any amount of diplomatic success among his own people, let alone the asari.

Still, there was one thing about Eris he'd noticed, and he lifted his glass to his lips before speaking over the rim. 'I can certainly say that hating her brings out your confidence. Though I admire your determination to tough it out, you really shouldn't have to. There are rules against this sort of thing and no one will fault you for standing up to her.'

Eris' skin became flushed as she lowered her head. 'Thanks, I may do at that. I think I just really, really needed to get that off my chest first. It's been so long, putting up with her constant sniping and degradation. Just talking about it with you, though, I haven't felt this good since I first came to the Citadel.'

'And glad I am to hear it,' Ciro said, honestly. He took another sip of wine and, after a moment's consideration, set the glass back down on the table. 'Speaking of work, I have news. Antus claimed he never took delivery of your gift. He seems to think you may have given it to another embassy employee by mistake.'

Frowning, Eris too put her glass down and shook her head. 'No, no I definitely gave it to him. I've been there before, remember? He usually sits in during our meetings. He served me tea, for crying out loud.'

There was no arguing with that logic, and her earlier warnings about Antus came back in full force. Again, Ciro arched his fingers in contemplation, his expression deeply troubled. 'I believe you, which only makes me wonder why he'd lie about it. What could he be hiding?'

'I did see him try to break into your office,' Eris said slowly. She moved closer to Ciro, lowering her voice. 'Maybe you should contact C-Sec about this. If he's doing something illegal, and we did nothing, then just as much suspicion would fall on you for not reporting it immediately if he's caught.'

'You're right,' Ciro agreed, still staring over the top of his fingers. 'I know you're right, but I just wish I understood it all. If he's, I don't know, selling secrets then why draw even more attention to himself by lying about your package? It doesn't make sense.'

'Maybe he's suspicious of me,' Eris offered. 'I mean, my explanation for being there was hardly watertight. I told him I thought you might have dropped the pin when you last came to our embassy, but-'

'What pin?'

Rolling her eyes, Eris let out a sigh. 'And to top it all off, I go and spoil the surprise.' She turned to face him, and her blue hand reached out to rest on Ciro's arm. 'That's what it was supposed to be, after all. I wanted to give you something very special to me. It was a golden pin, an emblem of your Hierarchy. It…it belonged to my father.'

Ciro's gaze drifted over to meet hers, his mouth slightly ajar in shock. 'I…don't know what to say. That must be priceless, why would you want to give it to me?'

'I said before that you remind me of him, but that's not entirely true, I've realised.' Eris shuffled close, until her thighs pressed against Ciro's. 'You're an example of everything good he taught me, everything he taught me to treasure.'

She paused and her eyes glistened with emotion, and something beneath it all that Ciro hadn't seen for a very long time. Her lips parted very slightly for a moment, a look of longing that Ciro knew should have made him uncomfortable, but couldn't resist.

Eris placed a hand on his cheek. 'You're kind, you're noble, you're wise, you're compassionate. You're everything someone in your position should be, and that you've devoted your free time to helping me without asking for anything in return, it speaks to you as a person. I wanted to show you my appreciation, and I couldn't think of anything better to give than that small symbol of everything turians stand for to a man who embodies everything good about them.'

Overwhelmed, Ciro lowered his eyes. His hands followed them and his fingers started to fidget awkwardly on his lap.

'I don't know what to say,' he said. 'I'm honoured that you think of me in such a way. Honestly, all this time I've been afraid to put a foot wrong, to overstep my professional bounds. I'm not even sure what those boundaries are, they seem to change every time we meet. Every time I've asked myself the question, I tell myself that I have a responsibility to you and that's what matters more than anything. You're so young, it's…only appropriate that I-'

His next words were stopped abruptly by Eris' lips on his. They were indescribably soft and tasted of honey, and after widening in surprise, Ciro's eyes closed to enjoy the moment. His heart was beating so fast that he was sure it would burst from his chest.

Eris pulled away and looked down timidly. 'I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me.'

'Don't be sorry,' Ciro told her, taking her hand. 'Be anything but sorry.'

She looked back up to him and smiled coyly. Whatever regret her eyes held was disappearing fast as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

'I'll talk to C-Sec,' he quietly assured her before adding forcefully, 'but first I'm going to get that damn pin from Antus. Whatever he's got against you, it is going to end tomorrow. Come to my apartment immediately after work and I promise you, you'll get to give me your gift for real.'

Eris beamed at him, that energetic smile that rejuvenated him in turn. Her fingers crept up his chest and traced his collar.

'Then how about we finish this wine and I give you another surprise? To make up for the one your assistant spoiled?'

Ciro's mandibles parted to show a sharp-toothed grin. They kissed once more, as they picked up their glasses, and Ciro couldn't have cared less for the burgundy liquid staining his suit as Eris' lithe body moved on top of his, pressing him back dominantly against the couch. The soft, hollow thud of glass on carpet was lost to the sounds of passion as their bodies entwined, and all thoughts of politics and betrayal were cast aside for a single, glorious evening.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Lina had called Lorica and her team into the command centre's conference room. For now, the glass walls were transparent and Mike in particular had a hard time not staring out of them at the tiers of analysts and agents below. The junior members hadn't been in that room before and the novelty was clearly too much for some.

From her seat at the head of the meeting table, Lina glanced down at a small haptic panel built into the table and a set of blinds slowly descended over the windows as she keyed a button pointedly, her gaze fixed on Deveraux until he realised the move was for his benefit. The young man turned around, adjusted his glasses and grinned sheepishly in apology at Lina.

She looked to the others, who had each brought a small mobile terminal with them which Ket had linked to the holographic emitter in the centre of the table. Lorica sat directly opposite Lina, with Kim and Ket to Lina's left and Mike to her right. None spoke as they concentrated on collating every scrap of intel they could for Arlen and the Spectre, but there was a palpable tension in the room. The T-Seven was still at large and in the hands of an unknown party, that much they knew. Unfortunately, it was all they knew.

Finally, the central hologram flickered to life and Lina let out a heavy breath of relief to see Arlen in front of her, his image shifting and distorted but stable.

'Arlen,' she began, keeping her emotions under control enough to maintain a modicum of professionalism. 'It's good to see you again. We were worried about you after we lost your signal on Omega.'

The young turian chuckled. 'Yeah, sorry about that. Took a knock or two to the head, probably not much left of my subdermals by now. How are you holding up over there?'

'I shouldn't complain, I just wish we had better news for you. Is the Spectre with you?'

'Right here,' said Arlen's companion and an asari stepped into view. 'Tela Vasir, STR. I hope you don't mind if we skip the happy reunion. Weapon of mass destruction on the loose and all that.'

Vasir's flippant remark made Lina frown beneath her visor, but she kept her irritation out of her voice. 'Fair enough. We're preparing to transmit everything we've managed to learn so far during the investigation on this end. Makes for ugly reading, I'm sure you'll agree. Crimson Fist seems to only be the tip of the iceberg; we have reason to believe a rogue faction within one or more Council races is supplying the batarians with arms and information.'

'That's a hell of an accusation,' Vasir replied.

'We've got a hell of a body of evidence,' Lina retorted.

She operated her desk terminal and a separate display sprang from it, sending amber lines dancing over the dome of her helmet. Those in the room couldn't see it, but Arlen and Vasir would be looking at exactly what Lina was showing them; a presentation of security footage, intelligence reports, everything relevant her team had uncovered since Arlen had set out from the Citadel.

'First of all, the bomb,' Lina continued. 'The T-Seven was stolen from a secret armoury in turian space and delivered to Crimson Fist on the Citadel by an agent of the same species. We raided the safehouse used by the batarians and found an OSD encrypted with C-Sec software. That same disc was stolen from the scene by Captain Avrix Ferrata, who confirmed under questioning that he was not a member of Crimson Fist but rather this unidentified third party. All we know about them is that they're connected to the turian military.'

Arlen crossed his arms and growled, 'He was also ordered by this third party to spy on me, is that right?'

'Correct,' Lina confirmed with a nod before gesturing to Mike. 'Agent Deveraux here also managed to recover another important file from the disc - the complete technical schematics of the Destiny Ascension.'

Vasir's image rippled as she raised a brow. 'That's a hell of a thing. How did a batarian terrorist group get a hold of those?'

'Not sure, we're still chasing leads there. All we know is the plans could only be obtained by hacking into the asari military net, or someone on the inside supplied them. We're trying to discreetly uncover what we can, but official channels are a no-go. If it's a mole we're dealing with, the last thing we want is for them to realise we're on their trail and disappear, if they haven't already.'

'Makes sense,' Arlen agreed. 'I'm wondering if this turian who gave Crimson Fist the T-Seven is the same one who stole it back.'

Lina nodded to her left. 'Kim already checked out the casino footage but they're not a match. Still, it's a good bet they're part of the same group.'

Vasir sighed. 'Rogue turian agents, huh? Like we haven't had enough of those. If these people have access to asari military secrets, that's going to create a major problem. Political tensions are already sky high after the geth attack, no matter how hard they try to push the image of galactic unity. The humans have joined the Council and now the balance of power is shifting, every species is looking to either protect what it once had or get their hands on what others can't protect.'

Deep in thought, Lina clasped her hands together in front of her. 'It's not pretty, but it lines up with what Ferrata told me, that the turian military was who asked him to watch Arlen. If only he'd-' She stopped herself from saying "survived". 'Given us more to go on.'

She hadn't yet told Arlen about Ferrata's death, partly because she didn't want to give him another reason to worry but also because with it came her own part in his demise.

Underneath all the fear and distress she'd suffered knowing that there would be a time when she'd have to account for Ferrata's murder, the guilt over her own interrogation of him still festered like an open wound. Above all, Lina was too ashamed to let Arlen know about what she'd done.

'Either way,' he said, 'it's clear the Destiny Ascension is their target. The T-Seven could've been smuggled on board easily as part of a tourist group and a detonation anywhere would've destroyed not only the ship but anything else that happened to be nearby. We should send a warning to her captain in case Crimson Fist decides to try something else.'

Vasir looked at him, sarcasm already painting her features long before it lined her response. 'What part of "can't go through official channels" don't you understand? If the Destiny Ascension bugs out then it's going to tip off whoever stole those schematics.'

Arlen narrowed his eyes in contempt at the asari. 'As if the fact that it didn't evaporate in a nuclear explosion wasn't enough to raise suspicions?'

Lina hated to contradict him in front of this newcomer, but she had no choice. 'She's right, Arlen. As far as whoever is working with Crimson Fist goes, their plan failed because some maniac decided to rob the Silver Coast casino and stole the bomb, not because we're on their tails. We can't afford to lose whatever leads we can turn up at this point, we're already behind in this race as it is.'

Lina caught a sidelong glance from Kim, Ket and Mike and didn't need to be told that they were silently pressing her to mention Ferrata's assassination. It was a valid point; their enemy may have falsely believed their loose ends were already tied up with the murder. It wasn't enough for Lina to bring it up, along with everything else that had preceded it.

She went on, if only to distract herself from her grim musings. 'You should have everything we've turned up so far. Regarding what happened in that bank, the internal cameras were fried by those explosions but there's plenty of external footage to look over. Our turian suspect isn't showing on any of our identity databases - we've no priors, no recent bio-scans, he's completely clean.'

'Another sign of some kind of high-level government operative,' Vasir added. She gave a single nod of confirmation. 'Okay, data received. We'll look everything over before heading back to the Citadel. Anything else?'

Lina's eyes passed over each of her team, who shook their heads in turn. 'No. Fly safely, both of you. We'll see you when you get back and, hopefully, we'll be able to make some progress in the meantime.'

Her gaze moved up to Arlen and he caught her by surprise by staring right back at her. She knew she was being fanciful by thinking that something passed between them, some unspoken look of gratitude. Or was it suspicion? Before Lina could guess, the image cut out as the signal shut down and a heavy silence descended on the meeting room.

Lorica stirred at the far end of the table. 'I guess that's that. All we can do is wait until either our virus in the asari embassy network manages to turn something up, or we put up wanted posters in the Wards for our mystery turian.'

She eyed Lina with a hardness that went beyond her mocking tone, and the quarian knew she was being silently asked why she didn't mention Ferrata's death. Once again, it was a question Lina chose to ignore as she closed her desk terminal.

'We still have at least ninety percent of that OSD left to decrypt,' she reminded them before addressing Deveraux. 'What's our status on that, Mike?'

The young man shook his head. 'A few data packets looking close to completion but that's not saying much. Those last pieces of code could be the next thing decrypted, or the very last.' He paused to frown, and the sudden hesitation caught everyone's interest. 'Actually, there is something else I noticed but, well, it didn't seem big enough to warrant a mention in the briefing.'

Kim rolled her eyes. 'You don't think that was the commander's call to make?'

'Time's short, I didnt want to just throw in every little suspicion I had or we'd be here all day,' Mike replied defensively before looking back to Lina. 'Sorry, Commander but it's really not that big a deal. Just something I noticed about our asari military net surveillance.'

'What about it?'

Mike winced a little, reluctance dragging back his tongue. 'Well, usually with something like this, we'd have a whole mess of pointless flags showing. Our search parameters weren't as thorough as they could've been, what with the time restraints and all.'

Ket snorted from across the table, gesturing dismissively. 'Oh, nonsense. I oversaw the setup of that worm myself and there was nothing wrong with it.'

'Even if that were true,' Mike countered, 'we'd still be getting hundreds of files, mails, drafting notices, anything related to the Destiny Ascension, all piling up to be sifted through. As it stands, we've not even had a dozen flags so far.'

Lorica gave him a stern look. 'What are you trying to say, Mike? That the virus me and Eddie risked our asses uploading isn't working?'

'It's working,' he clarified, 'but nowhere near at its usual efficiency. Either there's nothing at all there to find, which I find impossible to believe, or the virus is being impeded by something.'

Lina's helmet dipped solemnly. 'Our tech should be more than a match for any security suite in the Citadel. And I trust Ket when he says the virus was fine when it left here.' The salarian bowed his head in a show of appreciation as Lina's eyes rose again. 'I think whoever is in on this is disguising their presence. What's more, they're beating us to the punch every time.'

'We'll find them, Commander,' Kim declared earnestly.

It was no idle promise. Lina saw the determination in her gaze, in the gazes of all of them, and it picked up her spirits a little.

'That's what I needed to hear. We still have that disc, after all, and that's something. Mike, continue to work on that. The rest of you, keep it up, you're making me proud out there. Just make sure you stick to the sleep schedules, I know at least one of you hasn't left the command centre all week.'

Their eyes turned to Kim, who just shrugged. 'The break room's as good a place as any.'

As each allowed themselves a weary smile at her tenacity, Lina felt a keen sense of comfort, being there with them. Despite the weight of guilt and worry on her soul, there was respite to be found in their easy comradeship, like a thick blanket laid over frozen ground.

As Lina dismissed them and rose to her feet, she approached the half-shuttered windows and stared at the command centre below. The tiers were staggered semi-circles of bright orange, all focused around the dais that had been Lina's home for so much of the past year. She stood there for a time, lost in memory despite the pain it brought. For a time, it seemed even that was preferable to the grim truths she knew she would, eventually, have to face up to.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Barely had Novari's front door opened before Antus slipped through, pushing past her. She frowned as she closed the door and followed him into the apartment, her temper immediately rising.

'What the hell's your problem?' she demanded, storming after him.

Antus' body language said it all. His fingers flexed at his sides as he paced back and forth across her living room, his expression murderous.

'The old man came by today,' he snapped without facing her. 'He knew about that pin, damn it. He knows something's wrong.'

'Take a damn breath,' Novari ordered. 'I'm going to fix you a drink. In the meantime, I think you should calm down and when I get back, you'll be able to form a coherent sentence.'

She didn't wait for a response. Her mood was prickly as she went into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of strong asari liquor from a nearby cabinet, pouring a double measure into two glasses. On impulse, she took a deep draught straight from the bottle, hissing slightly as it danced like fire in her throat. Something told her she'd need it that evening.

When she returned to the living room, Antus was seated on the couch, running his hands over his face. She approached and pushed one of the glasses in front of him insistently and he took it without hesitation, downing the drink in a few short gulps.

'Now do you want to tell me what all this is about?' Novari asked stiffly.

Antus sighed. 'As I said, the ambassador stopped by. Said he was there to pick up something his "friend" left for him.'

Novari took a deep breath. It was hard to keep her voice from sounding patronising. 'Are you sure he was talking about the pin? Are you certain he was talking about Eris?'

Antus glared at the accusatory tone. 'He wasn't going to mention her by name, was he? He's not the type to go courting controversy by seeing a young secretary behind the scenes. It couldn't be anyone else.'

'Until you know that,' Novari said, spelling out each word as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, 'then you don't bring on more suspicion by openly lying about it.'

'And what else could I have done, exactly, without a package to give him?' he asked. 'You took the pin and kept it in your office, or did you forget that?'

'You could have delayed him! Told him you'd check around, feign ignorance until I gave you the pin back!'

Antus sprang to his feet and breathed his reply into Novari's face, the smell of alcohol heavy in her nostrils. 'That's exactly what I did, but you're clearly not seeing how serious this situation is!'

Novari lifted her chin defiantly. 'Then do enlighten me, since I'm obviously so damn blind.'

Antus' face snapped away and he resumed his frantic pacing, speaking as he did so. 'First your assistant sees me trying to break into Ciro's office, then C-Sec shows up to question you, and now the old man knows - or at least suspects - I'm hiding something from him? Did you forget I've been giving you turian military secrets for the past, what, two? Three years?'

'If they knew about that,' Novari argued,' then you'd already be in a prison cell. And C-Sec only questioned me about that bomb business the other day, nothing else. They certainly didn't show any interest in you.'

'Maybe. Or maybe they're watching me, waiting to see who I contact, looking to see how far this goes.'

Novari let out a breath of furious impatience, shaking her head. 'And so you came straight here?'

Antus blinked. His mouth formed half-sounds, his mandibles twitching with conflicting emotions. Novari narrowed her eyes. This time, it was her turn to advance, stepping up to him and keeping her voice as low and threatening as possible.

'You damn idiot,' she seethed. 'Not only are you so careless that you needlessly give your boss a reason to suspect you're up to no good, not only that but you're so stupid that you rush straight over here, incriminating me in the process. At least, that would be the case if you weren't being a paranoid moron!'

Antus' features contorted in anger. 'You ungrateful bitch! I'm the one who's been putting everything on the line all these years, risking my career, my reputation, even my life by getting the leverage you needed to succeed! No wonder I'm the only one who's taking this threat seriously, you've never had to take a risk in all the damn time we've been together!'

Novari crossed her arms, like a cold gate closing over her heart. 'First you come in here, ranting and raving like a lunatic down in the Wards. Now you insult me, my work and my intelligence. I think it's time you left.'

His head drooping, Antus blinked as if waking suddenly from a restless sleep. He trembled, whether through shock or rage Novari couldn't tell. She didn't care.

'Get out,' she snarled. 'Now.'

Antus gave her one last, brief glance and appeared to be on the verge of saying something. Then, just as quickly, his mouth snapped shut and he pushed past her roughly. She heard his heavy footsteps thunder down the hall before disappearing entirely behind the closed door, and Novari finally released a shaking breath.

She made her way back into the kitchen and snatched up the liqour bottle she'd left on the counter, this time swallowing a large mouthful. Her eyes glistened with newborn tears and, against all her will, she sobbed. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to stifle it but it was no good. She rested her elbows on the counter, then her head in her hands, as she wept.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Arlen saw the change in Vasir's expression immediately. It was hard not to notice her face go from impassive to concerned in a heartbeat, and Arlen had already concluded this asari was not the most subtle to begin with. It was something he could actually admire, if she were anything but a Spectre.

'Damn it, Prax,' Vasir muttered. Her eyes were filled with the footage from the bank's external camera, now playing on Arlen's omni-tool. 'What the hell are you doing?'

It was stating the obvious, but Arlen didn't want to be left out of the loop. 'You know him?'

Vasir bobbed her head slowly, almost reluctantly. 'Yeah. Prax Cingetos. He's a Spectre.'

'What?' Arlen gasped. His gaze shifted, searching for nothing as his mind struggled to make sense of the revelation. 'What the hell is another Spectre doing here?'

'Beats me. When that police chief told me another Spectre came by before I did, I assumed he was being fed a line. I didn't think I'd actually see another agent on this backwater. Goddess, Prax, you really played everyone like a pro.'

'What do you expect?' Arlen growled bitterly. 'JSTF weren't given any specifics on who was being assigned. I know that because I was in the same boat a year ago, and it nearly cost the Council their lives.' He sighed and shook his head. 'Damn Spectres cause more trouble than they solve.'

Vasir threw him an annoyed look. 'Don't give me that C-Sec garbage, kid, I don't have the time to give you an education.'

They'd held their briefing with JSTF in one of the conference rooms of the First Colonial, though between the smoke damage and the building's fire suppression system, the plush chairs and polished tables were discoloured and waterlogged. Vasir began to stroll deliberating around the room, her hands on her hips and fingers tapping incessantly against her armour.

'This changes things,' she announced after a time. 'If Prax is involved in this, it means one of two things. Either the Council assigned him to pick up the T-Seven, though I doubt they wanted two of us butting heads over it; or he's gone rogue.' She smiled humourlessly at the thought. 'First Saren, now Prax. Is it something in the water over there on Palaven?'

Arlen didn't care for the joke, much as he cared little for this Spectre in general. He closed his omni-tool. 'So, what's our next move?'

Vasir grunted. 'My next move is to report this to the Council, get Prax declared rogue, then I'll probably be assigned to hunt him down. Not a job I'm looking forward to, Prax is an old gun but he's plenty dangerous and he's got that bomb as insurance. Hopefully he'll hand it off to whoever sent him after it before I track him down.'

'Then I'm coming with you.'

Vasir furrowed her brow, drawing together the purple flames painted on her head. 'Is that so? And why exactly would I want to have you tagging along?'

'Because I set out to find that bomb,' Arlen said, his eyes like steel and his voice strong. 'Whether I do it with you or without you, I'm going to get the T-Seven back.'

It felt like a release, to speak those words. For so long, Zwei had been the real focus of his attention, and that shouldn't have been so. Petra had known it, but she wasn't there anymore. Neither was Zwei, and while Arlen knew a reckoning with him would come one day, there was no higher priority than the T-Seven.

He went on, his determination growing with each word, 'I know I don't have the authority to demand anything of a Spectre, but even you have to admit, we stand a better chance of succeeding if we work together. We both want the same thing and besides, I have a personal link to JSTF and their intel will be useful to you.' He wagered Vasir had something of an ego, and he decided to add, 'I'll follow your lead on this, so you don't need to worry about conflicting priorities. What you say goes.'

It galled him, to cede his independence in such a way but there was no helping it. At the back of his mind, he knew he needed Vasir more than she needed him.

She considered the request for a long few moments, visibly conflicted, but Arlen had predicted as much. He doubted she wanted the responsibility for his life any more than he wanted to put it in her hands, but eventually she looked back to him, her eyes narrowed cautiously.

'Why are you so desperate to come?' she asked. She motioned to him. 'I mean, look at you. You're barely holding together. Now I admire a tough, handsome young turian as much as the next girl, but seriously, you sure you're up to this?'

'More than sure,' he replied with certainty. 'I'm going to see this through to the end.'

Vasir's indecision was palpable. She looked askance, then back to Arlen again, weighing up the decision. Finally, she nodded. 'You made it this far and I have to admit, I'm curious to see firsthand how a kid like you managed to pull it off.' She dismissed her doubts with a wave of her hand. 'All right, let's go. I've got a ship standing by, we'll head back to the Citadel and deal with the Council. Once his status is revoked, we'll hit up the Spectre offices and pull Prax's files.'

As Arlen joined her in getting ready to move out, Vasir paused. 'Actually, while we're there, we can kill two pyjacks with one stone. That is, if you don't mind waiting a little longer to find out what happened to your brother?'

Arlen shrugged. 'I've been in the dark for more than six months already. I…I know he's gone. I just want to know how and why.'

Though it could have been his imagination, Arlen thought he detected a flicker of sympathy in Vasir's features.

'Yeah,' she said. 'I understand. You'll get your answers. I owe you that, at least.'

Though he was still far from being able to trust a Spectre, Arlen privately conceded that it was he who owed a debt to Vasir, not the other way around. As they made their way out of the bank and into the thick cordon of MPD officers, he couldn't help but feel grateful to her for giving him one final chance to make amends for his failures.

~~~ME-I2~~~

The night had been long and fitful for Novari. As her anger over Antus' behaviour waned, it was replaced by a black depression that kept her from getting any sleep. She'd emptied the liquor bottle before passing out on her couch and as the Presidium's morning routine began, lighting the false sky outside her window and filling her home with the gentle sound of distant traffic, she had woken to the sound of her omni-tool's alarm.

She tried to shower off her grief and hangover before setting out for work. As her bathroom filled with steam, the shower water running hotter than usual, she scrubbed at her body furiously in a mixture of sadness and frustration. She hated feeling guilty. It was rarely something she allowed in herself, but with each passing moment she thought only of Antus and what she should have said.

In spite of her assertions to the contrary, she had been afraid. Antus should have known that, surely? He knew her better than anyone. But he'd been scared too, and she had only added to that. Instead of keeping her self-vaunted composure, she had scolded and berated him. She'd let her temper get out of control and it was only the growing worry that someone, somewhere might be tapping her comm calls that kept her calling him to patch things up.

For a moment, she hung her head, watching the water flow past her bare feet. As before, when they'd argued down in the Wards, the rush of indignation she invariably felt when things got heated between them gave way to remorse. Antus was, after all, all she had. He was all she wanted.

It was then something else flared in Novari, bubbling up from beneath the sorrow and regret in a white hot tide. It was fury, not at Antus nor herself, but the one person who had come between them.

The embassy complex wasn't far away and it did not take long for Novari to get dressed and make her way to work. She nurtured that new feeling of anger as she entered the pale hallways of the embassy complex, ignoring the greeters and staff. For their part, the resident asari kept to themselves, knowing full well to stay out of Novari's way when she was in a bad mood.

Eris was seated at her desk outside Novari's office. She stood obediently on seeing her mistress and mumbled a greeting, but Novari didn't even try to conceal her hostility.

'In my office,' she ordered curtly. 'Now.' She didn't wait for a reply. She stormed into the office and on seeing Eris had followed her, snapped, 'Don't just stand there, close the door.'

Eris did as she was told and turned back to stand before the ambassador. 'I-I'm sorry, Mistress, is something wrong?'

The girl was a mewling, stuttering wreck already. It sickened Novari to see it.

'You could say that,' she replied coolly, folding her arms. 'Miss Saverra, do you know what a "conflict of interests" is?'

Eris' expression became a fascinating blend of fear, surprise and shame. It was all too obvious and again, Novari felt a measure of loathing for the girl. Any aide to the asari ambassador was someone who had aspirations to become an emissary at some point in her career, and Novari prided herself on having been able to weed out those unsuited for such work in the past. The asari had the Councillor to project their image of patience and tolerance, but if their ambassadors were not tough and strong, then they would have nothing in the galaxy but that reputation.

Eris was just the latest example of those who wanted to serve the Republics, and happened to be the worst candidate Novari had seen yet. The maiden was easier to read than a datapad, and Novari would've enjoyed toying with her were she not so incandescent with rage. This little bitch was responsible for interfering in one of the things Novari cherished above all else and she wouldn't let Eris get away with it.

'I-I do, Mistress,' the girl finally answered.

'So you know, then, the penalties for starting an undeclared relationship with staff of another embassy?'

Something came over Eris, something that caught Novari by surprise. Her assistant lowered her gaze to the floor, but when she raised it again moments later there was something in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

'Even if I were pursuing such a relationship, Mistress,' she said calmly, 'I would know there is no law against it.'

Novari's tone hardened. 'Once again, you completely miss the point. This isn't a question of legality, rather one of your professional loyalties.'

Eris raised her voice, again taking Novari aback. 'And what exactly have I done to make you question my loyalty to the asari, Mistress?'

There was a challenge in her words, clear as day. Novari might have admired it had Eris shown such backbone before she'd made a foe of the ambassador.

'A few days ago you tried to give something to the turian ambassador, Ciro Tessarius. I want to know what that something was, as well as the nature of your relationship with him.'

Eris mimicked her by crossing her arms. 'With all due respect, Mistress, I don't see how that's any of your business.'

It wasn't a flat denial. Novari was curious, but not enough to go back on the path she'd set herself on. She would ruin this girl, Goddess help her.

'It is entirely my business,' she pointed out sharply. 'We are in the middle of one of the biggest territorial negotiations with the Turian Empire in a millennium. I will not have those talks compromised by your…whatever it is you're doing with Ambassador Tessarius.'

'He dropped something during one of his visits here and I returned it, that's all.'

'Then why not go through the embassy? We have couriers for precisely this kind of thing.' Novari's tone grew harsher and she took the time to pace a circle around Eris, speaking as slowly and menacingly as she could. 'What in Athame's name gives you the gall to think that a mere assistant can waste the time of her betters instead of going through proper channels? That an ambassador has the spare capacity in their schedules to address an underling like you?'

Eris' lips quivered a little. She closed her eyes tightly as she lowered her fists to her side. When she spoke again, it was not quiet or meek. It was almost a scream, so loud it nearly made Novari flinch.

'Shut up! Damn it, for the love of the Goddess, shut the hell up!' Novari took an unconscious step back as her formerly weak, pathetic assistant rounded on her. 'You've had a problem with me since day one and I've had to sit here and put up with your shit for months now. Well, I'm not taking it any more. Throw all the accusations you want at me, but I promise you, I will not let you push me around any longer!'

With that, she turned to leave but in an unthinking moment, Novari grabbed her by the arm.

'Where do you think you're going, I'm not finished with you yet!'

Her grip was strong but Eris snapped her sleeve free of the ambassador's grasp. 'Take your damn hands off me!'

She walked briskly through the door and out into the hall. Novari pursued, her voice cracking through the embassy complex.

'You're finished!' she yelled. All her frustration and grief poured out, beyond her ability to control it. 'I'll see to it that you never work on the Presidium again!'

They passed into the main entrance area and Novari ignored the looks of open horror and disgust from all the staff present. The quiet calm of the early morning Presidium was rarely shattered so abruptly, and no one made an effort to stop either woman as Eris sauntered past the greeters towards the transit car ranks outside.

Eris replied without looking over her shoulder. 'Oh, don't worry. I'll be lodging a formal complaint with the diplomatic commission. I'm not the only one you've bullied into quitting this job and I'll make sure everyone knows what a hideous witch you are. Until then, you can consider me on a leave of absence.'

The young asari climbed into her shuttle, a functional red craft that didn't have the sleek, expensive look of those around it. The door began to close but Novari stopped it with a firm hand under the bottom.

'You've made an enemy today,' she warned, dipping her head as far into the car as possible. 'You won't get away with this. I'll have commandos tearing apart your home by nightfall. I'll have you arrested on charges of espionage and treason. Whatever little harassment complaint you file will be buried under the shitstorm I will bring down on your head, do you understand me?'

To her infinite annoyance, Eris merely gave her a calm, indifferent glance. 'Until that happens, I don't want to hear another word from that varren pit you call a mouth. Now if you please, Mistress, take your damn hand off my shuttle.'

Novari didn't comply, but she had no choice when Eris fired up her engines and the shuttle rose steadily into the air. Novari watched, blind with rage as her former assistant took off and left her standing impotently amidst a gaggle of onlookers, all of whom would be able to attest to what had happened. The shuttle floated for a few moments, almost motionless, over one of the Presidium's silvery lakes. It felt like a final insult, after all that had happened over the past few days, for Novari to be ignored so completely and it was almost like the shuttle was being deliberately sluggish just to provoke her further.

Her eyes widened and she fell backwards as an explosion shook the ground.

There were screams all around her, people swarming and pointing as Eris' shuttle burst into a ball of yellow fire. The piercing boom of the blast sent a shockwave rippling through the lake below, filling Novari's ears with white noise and her anger turned instantly to terror.

The shuttle plummeted down into the lake, belching smoke as it fell to create a dark trail across the Presidum sky. Novari shook uncontrollably, her breathing rapid and hard, and she found it impossible to take her eyes off the blackened husk as it disappeared slowly beneath the water.