MASS EFFECT: INTERCEPTOR 2

*Episode Thirty-Two*

No matter their species, every sentient being remembers the very worst thing they've ever smelled in their life. For Arlen, it was not just one occasion but the many times he'd had to work the trash compactors on his first warship, during his junior service. There was always a strange heat to that compartment which went beyond the massive machinery working to sort and crush the waste of a spaceborne city, as if the indescribable odour was some form of toxic radiation. It was that very unique sensation that Arlen recognised as he stepped off the loading ramp of Vasir's ship onto the surface of Korlus.

She had warned him about the place, but nothing could quite do it justice. Arlen took shallow breaths of the hot garbage air as his eyes moved past a sun-baked concrete hangar building to the murky yellow haze beyond. There was no real indication as to what time of day it was. Arlen didn't know whether it was a cloud that was reducing the sun to a pale, muted disc high above, or simply a pall of noxious pollution. Either way, he wanted nothing more than to meet Prax and be done with that place as quickly as possible.

Vasir made her way off the ramp, gingerly hopping off the end as it rose from the ground and stopping next to Arlen. She flashed a datapad at him.

'Here are the coordinates. Looks like he's waiting in some kind of waste disposal facility.' She paused to grimace at her surroundings. 'Whatever the hell that means on a planet like this.'

Arlen got a good look at the datapad screen. On it, he made out a monochrome map with various contour lines and symbols denoting buildings, roads, air traffic lanes and landmarks. A few observations stood out to him.

'It's in the middle of some kind of open area,' he murmured, tracing the map with a finger. 'Far away from any buildings. Prax will see us coming, no chance of an ambush. No doubt he'll walk if he doesn't see us both together.'

'We're playing this straight,' Vasir reminded him sternly. He looked over to find her features were set in a cold, hard mask. 'You're following my lead on this one, Arlen. We can't afford to lose that T-Seven again. Understood?'

Arlen nodded once and Vasir started forward, speaking as she walked.

'The Council has already given the green light to Prax's immunity, but it wasn't easy. I had to let slip a few details.'

'Like what?'

'Like the fact there's a stolen turian nuclear weapon on the loose. The turians wanted to keep that part quiet but it's too late for secrets now. Councillor Sparatus won't be happy, but it was his call not to clue in the others, not mine.' She glanced at Arlen, measuring his reaction. 'Doesn't bother you, I hope?'

Arlen's nostrils widened as he tugged his feet free of a patch of foul, greenish mud. Every step seemed to be getting harder in that stinking mire, and Vasir's query nearly slipped him by because of it.

'I don't serve my people alone,' he replied. 'If I did, I wouldn't be in C-Sec.'

Vasir snorted. 'You really believe that?'

'It's one of the few things left I do believe in,' Arlen said quietly. 'If you'd asked me a year ago, maybe my answer would've been different.'

'Why's that?'

Arlen stared ahead, at the bunker-like structure overlooking the area. He didn't know how, or even if he could explain the way a human woman had affected him, making him see past the rigid values instilled in him since he was a small child. If there was anything positive to be said for the chaos of the past few days, it was that it'd given him no time to think of the past.

'My work with JSTF brought me into contact with other species as soon as I arrived on the Citadel,' he finally answered. 'I can't say I made the best impression on everyone, but I quickly learned that we all had more in common than I'd first thought. I also learned that my own people can be capable of the most heinous acts, even when we're upholding all our most noble values.'

He thought back to General Krassus and his men; soldiers who fought under his father and were forced to pay - to continue paying - for Renius' sins, all manipulated by the League of One into pursuing a vendetta on behalf of their fallen brothers and sisters in arms. Understanding, maybe even sympathy, warred within Arlen against the disgust he felt at their actions to that very day. Finally, he recalled a salarian, the one who'd posed as a Spectre and tried to kill the Council. The sight of bluish metal fused with dark flesh, of something as much machine as organic, still haunted his memories.

'I guess you could say I'm not fighting for any one species,' he continued, as much trying to make sense of it to himself as Vasir, 'but for individuals. Every species has their saints, sinners and everything in between. What matters are the people you care about, and they can come from anywhere, from any race at any time. They're the ones who give you a reason to see it all through to the other side, who're waiting for you when it's all over. I nearly lost sight of that.'

'You got someone special waiting for you when you get back?'

The question was innocent enough, though Vasir gave Arlen a sidelong glance as she waited for his answer.

Arlen dipped his head slowly. 'I have friends. Good friends who faced down hell with me a year ago. Friends I haven't appreciated in the months since. Once the T-Seven is safe, I have work to do to make sure I don't lose them forever.'

They passed into the shadow of a narrow doorway and into a cool corridor of rough grey stone. Black cables were strung roughly between archaic strip lights running the length of the corridor, their light so harsh and white that Arlen found himself blinking as they passed under each one.

'You're lucky,' Vasir told him. 'Spectres don't normally get the luxury of meeting people they can trust.'

'At least one did,' Arlen pointed out. 'My first partner, Garrus, he ended up working with the first human Spectre. Became pretty close, from what I hear.'

'No kidding,' Vasir said with genuine interest before shaking her head. 'Shepard was anything but a normal Spectre. Shame he died, really. Can't say I wasn't hoping to work with him one day.'

'Either way, it sounds like he learned the same lesson I did. There were plenty who mourned Shepard's death. Gives you some idea of how many people he had to fight for, and who were fighting for him. I can't help but feel that's worth more than all the instincts, all the luck, all the skill in the galaxy.'

'And what about me?' Vasir asked, looking at Arlen once more with a hint of playfulness. 'Would you mourn me if I died today? Should I reserve at least one spot at my funeral?'

Arlen met her eyes, appreciating the humour in her smile. He returned it, grinning unabashedly as he stared ahead again. He had to face the fact that he truly liked Tela Vasir, whether he really trusted her or not.

'Yeah. Yeah, I think you should.'

Vasir continued to smile, saying nothing more as the excitement of knowing their mission would soon be over lent a new energy to their steps.

~~~ME-I2~~~

'And the clutch finally hatches.'

The remark came from Ket, and Kim immediately noticed the pleasure in the salarian's voice even as he kept it as quiet as possible. Kim's reaction was instantaneous as she got up from her seat and leaned over Ket's desk, so she could speak to him without being overheard as well as to block his terminal from unwanted observers. Aside from a few known loyalists, neither Kim nor her team could trust anyone in the command centre and anyone nearby could have been reporting their every word and move to Commander T'Rana.

'You got something?' Kim asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she shifted slightly, allowing Deveraux room to join them.

'A couple of things. First of all, an intercepted message from T'Rana to Enforcement confirming handover of Serica Ronn. He's in their jurisdiction now. Enforcement is transferring him to maxsec as we speak.'

'That's the last of Jaeger's crew out of our reach,' Kim concluded bitterly. It was just the latest move in T'Rana's campaign to shut down the investigation but the news still bit deeply.

Ket raised a leathery brow. 'Indeed. You can thank Mike for that one. He's been keeping tabs on outgoing comms in a manner even I would deem competent.'

Deveraux managed a tired grunt. 'You're too kind, man.'

'I know.' Ket clenched a fist, cracking the joints of his spindly fingers. 'The main thing, however, is that I managed to get a hold of the coroner report on Eris Saverra. Or, rather, a formal complaint by the chief coroner to Executor Pallin.'

Kim frowned. 'What would the chief coroner have to complain about?'

'Eris Saverra's body never made it to them,' Ket said, his voice and expression as serious as Kim had ever seen. 'As is procedure, the coroner's office wanted to assign an independent investigator to ensure C-Sec has done their job but the move was blocked.'

'By who?'

'The complaint doesn't specify.' Ket jerked his head up in the general direction of the command centre's briefing room. 'Could be T'Rana, could even be Pallin himself. Either way, procedure is not being followed and we're missing the body of one asari.'

Kim's lips firmed in anger. 'God damn it, that's just what we need right now.'

Her eyes flashed as a thought occurred.

'Pull up the security footage of the asari embassy attack.'

'We've already been over it,' Ket protested.

'Just do it!' Kim hissed before giving Deveraux a sharp look as his own terminal made a loud chiming noise. 'Mike, take care of whatever that is, then see if you can get to the bottom of who's blocking the coroner from doing their job. It wouldn't surprise me if T'Rana was just stupidly throwing her weight around, but there's a chance we might get another lead out of it.'

'You think it'll be that easy?' Deveraux asked.

'No,' Kim admitted, 'but I'll take what I can get at this point.'

Mike went back to his desk and Kim went back to watching various feeds and windows appear and disappear on Ket's terminal.

'You're doing a good job,' the salarian commented softly, making Kim blink in surprise.

'What did you say?'

Ket let out a short huff of irritation at having to repeat the compliment. 'I said you're doing a good job. I didn't think you humans had it in you, but you're really keeping this thing going. Just wanted you to know that.'

Despite everything, Kim had to let out a quiet chuckle. 'That sounds dangerously close to praise, Ashunta.'

It was the first time she'd used Ket's personal name. It was ungainly enough that she knew she wouldn't be saying it often, but it felt important to do so then.

His features creasing in the light of the terminal, Ket gestured nonchalantly. 'It is what it is. I just wouldn't feel right if all this ended and I didn't get a chance to say it, that's all.'

Security camera footage now played on his screen and they both made a show of watching it. It wasn't awkwardness that made them distance themselves from the moment of comradeship, but neither wanted to indulge in it, not while there was still work to do.

The asari embassy was rendered in fuzzy blue-grey pixels on the display. The image sharpened occasionally thanks to Ket's repeated keystrokes and swipes at a tiny toolbar at the corner of the screen, though the dark lines of Eris Saverra's personal shuttle were unmistakable from the very start.

Both analysts watched intently, their eyes wide, alert and twitching at every small movement and detail. Kim felt a sinking in her stomach as she saw Saverra approach the shuttle, followed closely by Ambassador Novari - another avenue of investigation of T'Rana had closed off to them. The asari shared harsh words - words that Kim would dearly have loved to hear - before the shuttle took off, then exploded in a cloud of smoke and fire before the doors even had a chance to close.

Kim's lips parted as she clutched Ket's shoulder. 'There! Go back!'

Puzzled, Ket rewound the footage and the explosion played out again. Kim let out a frustrated breath and reached out to the screen to take control of the playback for herself. She stepped the video back, frame by frame, until she came to the moment just before the blast. The sky car was suspended in the air above one of the Presidium's many lakes, but it wasn't the vehicle Kim pointed to desperately.

'There, you see that?'

Ket squinted, then his jaw too went slack as he saw it. The surface of the lake directly below the shuttle was disturbed, as if something had hit the water.

Kim worked the footage back and forth, slowly. It was definitely there - something entered the water with a splash before the shuttle exploded but there was simply nothing to see.

'It can't be,' Ket muttered. 'Has to be some kind of malfunction with the camera, surely?'

'That's why there was no body,' said Kim, her breathing now hard as the revelation made her head swim. 'Eris Saverra bailed out before the bomb went off. She staged the whole thing.'

Ket motioned to the frozen image on the display. 'Then where the hell is she? There's nothing to see here, no sign of her! Unless she can turn invisible?' The words seemed to spark a recollection within him, and the salarian raised a finger. 'Wait, wait, now that I think about it…'

Kim pressed closer, eager to hear his thoughts.

'There is a possibility. Stealth technology, it's been in development since the geth attack. There were geth units that were found to be able to cloak, not sure whether it was some kind of distortion field or light-bending tech, but it's out there. Cutting edge stuff, but…'

'Just the kind of thing one could get hold of with friends embedded in the highest levels of the asari and turian militaries,' Kim finished. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering what else they could possibly uncover. 'Okay, this may be a long shot but it's all we've got. We need to assume Eris Saverra is alive and at large on the Citadel.'

'Hopefully she hasn't made her way off-station. If Saverra has access to cloaking tech, the very least she'd have is a false identity to fool the bio-scanners.'

'Start looking for her anyway,' Kim ordered, straightening and taking out her omni-tool. 'I'm heading to the server room. I need to get this news to Lorica right away.'

Ket looked up at her. 'You really think that's a good idea?'

'No,' she replied, 'but she pointed us in this direction to begin with. I don't know who or what Lorica's loyal to, if anything, but I have a feeling she needs to know. We sure as hell can't rely on T'Rana to give us the resources we need to pursue this.'

'Fair point.' After a moment's thought, Ket added, 'Just…be careful, all right?'

Kim gave the salarian an appreciative tap on the arm before departing. She tried her best to keep her pace brisk but casual as she left the section and descended the command centre's main ramp to disappear once more into the depths of the complex. Her stomach lurched with each step as the knowledge that Eris Saverra was still alive - and what that could possibly mean - sat heavily and uneasily within her.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Tayseri Ward had seen a massive upsurge in tourism since the Council's unity celebrations began and even though the festivities were winding down, the streets were still clogged at all hours with visitors of many species.

Lorica silently cursed at the crowds flowing past her parked shuttle, blocking her view from the pilot's seat with infuriating regularity. She smoothed out the dress she'd changed into, ditching her C-Sec outfit back at the safehouse in order to appear like one of the many regular asari civilians now passing by the shuttle. She'd tried to choose a shadowy, concealed spot but Novaris letter had led them to an upmarket restaurant and club on one of the Ward's most popular streets. As it stood, Lorica struggled to keep sight of Antus as he meandered in front of the Silken Star lounge some way ahead, doing his best not to appear like a lost tourist.

With the dome of Tayseri's ubiquitous landmark, the Dilinaga Concert Hall, rising above the cityscape despite being some distance away, the Silken Star was a modest spot in a street packed with high-class stores and eateries. Fronted by pearl-hued metal, bathed in blue by a large glowing sign bearing the lounge's name, it still could have been called understated on a road choked with recreations of sleek asari columns, arches and hanging gardens. With the awe-inspiring sight of the nebula and other Wards above, it was a scene that Lorica genuinely wished she could enjoy. She regretted not taking Kimberley there while she had a chance.

Distracted, she swore under her breath as her omni-tool chirped. Without taking her eyes from Antus, she opened the device.

'Huntress,' she greeted curtly.

'It's me.'

The sound of Kim's voice made Lorica jerk upright. It was as unexpected as it was gratifying, and Lorica couldn't stop a tentative smile from crossing her lips.

'Hey,' she said affectionately. 'I didn't think I'd hear your voice again.'

'Make the most of it,' was the frosty response, 'because I'm not sure if I'll be able to do this again. I just wanted to let you know: we think Eris Saverra is still alive.'

All thoughts of love and remorse were purged instantly as Lorica's expression hardened. 'What? How?'

'We went over the embassy bombing footage again. This time we noticed that something hit the lake below the sky car, moments before the explosion. Ket thinks Eris was using some kind of experimental cloaking technology to conceal herself as she jumped out of the vehicle.'

'I've heard of it,' Lorica murmured. 'Geth tech, pulled from units we salvaged after the attack six months ago.'

'Assuming Ket is correct, it looks like Saverra set the autopilot, then bailed out. She must've swam to a concealed location, though with all eyes on the embassy it wouldn't have been hard to make an exit nearby, especially if she was nearly invisible to the naked eye.'

'Shit,' Lorica rasped, turning her eyes to the heavens and slumped back in her seat. 'If you're right, we have to go after her. There's no telling what she knows, or what she can still do to hurt us.'

'Ket's on it. Hopefully we can get a track on her and turn something up quick, before the trail goes cold.'

'If it isn't already.' Lorica's gaze turned out of the window at her side, softening as the shifting multitude of the crowd outside obfuscated the city beyond. 'I don't know what the hell's going on, Kim. People are dying and we're still no closer to understanding why.'

Kim's reply was the closest thing to encouragement that Lorica could expect. 'You might not be with JSTF anymore but you still know the score. Knowing why is a luxury for us. What matters is that we stop it. The good news is, Arlen's on track to recovering the T-Seven within the hour. Whoever is doing this, for whatever reason, they're about to lose their most powerful weapon.'

Lorica's teeth flashed in a relieved grin. 'Goddess, that's good to hear.'

She knew better than to ask for details, but her gratitude was honest. It was easy to forget, with all of her chasing after foolish politicians playing at espionage, with her having to sabotage the people she'd once called friends and all the other dark trappings of her profession, that it all came down to getting the T-Seven back. While the concerns of the asari were her top priorities, nothing would have been more terrible than witnessing the destruction of that bomb.

As the silence stretched, she dared to add, 'I miss you.'

No reply came. Lorica's smile faded and she was worried the connection had been lost.

'Kim?'

'I heard you.'

The flat response brought a shimmer to Lorica's eyes. She knew it was pointless trying to salvage anything of their relationship after her betrayal, but she couldn't stop a spike of indignation from entering her voice.

'Is that all you've got to say?'

'What do you want me to say?' Kim bit back, her quiet venom bringing a flare to the omni-tool's digital speakers. 'I want you back? Let's forget that you screwed us over? That you got Lina arrested? That the task force has been reduced to nothing by T'Rana, all because of you?'

'Kim…'

'No,' Kim interrupted viciously. 'No, you don't get to talk to me like none of that happened! I don't care if you miss me. I don't care if you still love me. We're going through hell here and it's all your fault!'

A tear now slithered down Lorica's cheek, at the pain in Kim's voice and the knowledge that it couldn't have been avoided. Any desire to scrape together what remained of the love she had now appeared as exactly as it was - a selfish moment of hubris.

'I don't have the time to feel anything,' Kim went on, 'nothing except fear, over my future, over Ket and Mike's futures. I can't remember what it's like not to feel so tired that I just want to give up. When you left, it was like my only shield against all of that was taken away. I never felt afraid when you were here, and whenever I felt exhausted, I just looked at you and knew it'd all be worth it in the end.'

Lorica's lips pressed together as more tears filled her vision, turning the street outside her window into a watery blur.

Kim sighed shakily. 'Please, for both our sakes, don't ever talk to me like that again. It's over. All that matters now is this investigation. I'll let you know if we learn anything about Eris Saverra, and if you really wanna make amends, the least you can do is help us out however you can. Commander T'Rana has this place on its knees, we've barely got any field agents out there anymore and even they have to answer to Investigation now.'

After taking a few deep breaths to compose herself, Lorica wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. 'Y-yeah. Yeah, no problem. I'll do what I can.'

The sight of her omni-tool reminded her of the message she'd received from her superiors on the flight over, a message she wanted to relay to Kim in a moment of ill-judged sentiment. She again briefly considered telling Kim that she had been ordered to return to Thessia as soon as Novari was secure, but after Kim's outburst it would've seemed like nothing more than a spurious attempt to gain sympathy.

Kim severed the call without another word and Lorica took another few moments to gather her senses. If anything, Kim's harsh words had given a sense of closure that Lorica was trying her best to avoid. Her eyes sharpened as she re-focused on her task.

They widened again as she realised Antus was no longer there.

Glancing about the area in front of her, Lorica grew increasingly panicked as it became clear that the turian was gone. All caution set aside, she opened the shuttle door and scrambled out into the street, assailed instantly by city noise that only heightened her growing fear.

The blue light of the Silken Star edged the curves of her body as she stood helpless in front of it. Could Antus have gone inside? Surely he wouldn't have done so without consulting her first. He knew the dangers as much as she did, and there was no reason to go against her instructions. They both wanted the same thing, after all.

Questions tumbled through Lorica's mind as she continued to scan the torrent of passing citizens in vain. All she saw were unfamiliar, oblivious faces in their teeming hundreds, and her own was frozen in a look of helpless horror. All she could do was rue Antus Kuril, even as she knew in her heart that it was her own foolish distraction that had led to his disappearance.

~~~ME-I2~~~

Deveraux adjusted his glasses for what seemed like the hundredth time in just a few minutes. Behind them, a frown narrowed his eyes as they ran over lines of text that scrolled across his screen with relentless urgency.

Kim hadn't yet returned from her attempt to contact Lorica and Deveraux wished she had stuck around for just a few moments longer. The notification that drew him back to his terminal from Ket's desk a short time ago was no mere message or some menial process that had reached its conclusion.

It only took a few seconds of reading for Deveraux to lean back in his chair, blowing air from his cheeks and clasping his hands over his head. There was little time to take in his discovery, however, and he knew it. It wasn't long before he turned in his chair to address Ket behind him.

'Hey, Ash,' he whispered.

He'd heard Kim use Ket's first name - or was it his last one? He couldn't recall salarian naming conventions other than the fact they were lengthy and complex. It hardly mattered, and Ket reacted to the shortened moniker, throwing him a questioning glance. Deveraux motioned him over, and Ket joined him without saying a word until he was hunched over the console, after a quick check to see he wouldn't be overheard.

'Is that what you're all calling me now?' he asked calmly as he settled into place.

'Yeah, seems like a logical short form version of Ashunta, don't you agree?'

Mike watched as a small grin pulled at the corner of Ket's mouth, and not for the first time in the past week, he actually felt the bond of comradeship that many veterans of C-Sec spoke of but had eluded his small team until that moment. He wondered whether it was Commander T'Rana's attempt to bribe Ket that spurred a change of attitude to his fellow agents, or if that affection really was there all along.

'I don't disagree,' Ket replied before gesturing to the terminal. 'Now what is it you wanted to show me?'

His thoughts turning back to business, Deveraux nodded to the screen. 'That C-Sec file we pulled from Molach's OSD?'

'Yes, everything Investigation had on Zwei Jaeger and his gang, correct?'

'Right. Well, we just broke the encryption. Turns out the file was actually deleted from the disc, probably before Ferrata, or maybe even Saverra copied the Destiny Ascension schematics onto it and handed it off to the batarians. It's old data, our program just so happened to reconstruct it from fragments left on the disc.'

'Kimberley thinks a third party might be at play here,' Ket mentioned. 'This would only strengthen the theory. My first thought is Captain Ferrata was using this OSD to store all kinds of intel that he was feeding to his various employers, but the Destiny Ascension plans came from Eris Saverra.' He tutted softly. 'Those two were working together to help Crimson Fist, maybe directly but more likely through intermediaries so the capture of one wouldn't expose the other.'

'Whatever the case, I was right the first time - this file is larger than the one held by Investigation. I ran a comparison and found the data present in Ferrata's version but missing from C-Sec's version.'

He looked up at Ket, whose own features grew worried at what he saw in Deveraux's eyes.

'Zwei's gang are all biotics,' Deveraux revealed. 'Serica Ronn, the twins, Madsen, every one of them. That part was redacted from their individual medical profiles before Ferrata assigned the case to Arlen.'

Immediately, Ket looked perplexed. 'What? Why would he want to hide their biotics from Arlen?'

Deveraux could only shrug. 'To give him a nasty surprise when he tried to take them down? I don't see any other reason.'

'But they didn't even use their abilities, at least not that we could tell, and Arlen made no mention of it. Aside from Zwei, there was nothing to suggest they were biotics!'

'I know, I know,' Deveraux snapped, frustrated. He lifted his head to look for any sign of Kim. 'Damn it, this just doesn't make sense.'

It was then he noticed the look on Ket's face. It was one of startled realisation.

'What is it?' he asked.

Ket spoke quietly, though it didn't seem like any conscious effort to remain unheard anymore. His reply wasn't even directed at Deveraux, but to himself.

'Let's say what we already suspect - Zwei knew he was going to get caught,' the salarian murmured. 'Whether in the shuttle chase or as he tried to get off the Citadel, it was almost inevitable that he'd be arrested at one time or other. Zwei's biotic power was too infamous to conceal but his crew were a different story. If he knew the chances are they'd all be captured, then Jaeger's gang must have been under orders to conceal their powers. Maybe whoever had Ferrata plant the redacted C-Sec files had something special planned for Zwei, since his file was untouched. In any case, biotics need special facilities to contain them, to nullify their abilities. If a hidden biotic was arrested on the Citadel, it wouldn't be difficult for them to escape.'

Deveraux shook his head. 'Prisons have advanced medical scanners that would pick up the biological signs of a biotic during processing. Then you've got the amps, a quick feel around the ears will give those away.'

'Undetectable covert amps are being used by our own field agents as we speak, they're not hard to get a hold of, even if they can't generate nearly as much power as the regulars. And yes, prison scanners can scan every cell in your body but those fine establishments are off-station, the Citadel doesn't have the space for anything bigger than a local lockup. That's why we hand off our detainees to the turians unless they're specifically extradited by their parent species. Even then, the prisoners have to be transported.'

Ket wagged a skinny finger, a strange nervousness coming over him. 'That's the weak link right there. Whatever the plan was for Zwei, his crew could have made their escape independently. A biotic prisoner is essentially an armed prisoner. Without proper precautions, the transport ship would've been easy prey for a whole gang of them.'

'I don't know, man,' Deveraux grumbled, rubbing his tired face. 'It's possible, but it's thin as hell.'

Again, Ket raised a finger and carried on as if speaking to himself. 'Let's say I'm right; Arlen's involvement would've interrupted whatever Zwei had planned after the casino job. Ferrata's little cover up didn't matter when they were all shipped to Purgatory.'

Deveraux could barely follow Ket's line of reasoning, but he still asked, 'Why's that important?'

That was what seemed to have Ket so agitated. He finally looked down to Devaraux, his dark gaze sparkling with terror.

'Not everyone was sent to Purgatory. T'Rana just authorised…'

Ket sprang up and made for his terminal, calling out over his shoulder with all caution cast to the wind.

'Get onto Enforcement, now! We have to warn them!'

~~~ME-I2~~~

Another heavy door of blue-washed silver slid up with a strained hiss. The corridor ahead was a long stretch of the same featureless metal, tinted cyan by overhead lights and lined with dark grime in every recess. The stench of unwashed bodies was strong, despite the apparent sterility of the surroundings.

Serica Ronn marched through the outprocessing corridor, flanked by two armoured and visored turian C-Sec officers who kept their fingers on the triggers of their assault rifles. Ronn's hands were cuffed, the heavy grey clamps digging into the bare burgundy skin of his wrists.

There were no high-population prisons on the Citadel, only the jails of some larger C-Sec precincts and a couple of special facilities manned by experienced Enforcement and even Special Response personnel. The most dangerous prisoners had to be shipped off-station via a private dock at the very base of the Zakera Ward arm, and Ronn was not alone. Behind him, a string of rough-looking men and women clad in murky orange jumpsuits filed through the corridor, each afforded their own pair of guards. Ahead, in front of a gigantic airlock door, stood an array of scanners and haptic terminals - the outprocessing station that would check every one of them for contraband or weapons before they set off for whichever maximum security prison they were assigned.

The orange suits, an oddly common uniform now amongst prisoners since the humans joined the galactic community, drew a ragged line back to the entrance. The turian version of the outfit was ill-fitting and made Ronn's carapace itch. He'd been allowed to roll up his sleeves after a thorough check for foreign objects but it made little difference. It was a discomfort he silently endured, one he scarcely even noticed as he waited to be ordered onward.

'Next.'

The call had some from the scanning station in front of Ronn, an instruction delivered in an exceedingly disinterested monotone, and he lifted his head to see a green-skinned salarian manning the various terminals. He looked as bored as he sounded, and Ronn glared at him as he shuffled into position.

'Hands.'

One of the guards at Ronn's side removed the cuffs while the other stood and watched, his rifle raised and ready to fire.

As his hands were freed, Ronn raised them to present to a set of square orange holograms in front of him. He placed his hands on the squares and vivid bars of the same warm light enveloped them, wrapping around his digits and sending many of the amber readouts into a frenzy as the bars spread up his arms and across his body. The salarian officer on the other side matched them with inputs of his own, his lithe limbs moving back and forth in time with a series of beeps and tones.

'He's clean,' he announced after just a few moments. 'Next!'

In response, the massive airlock door to Ronn's distant left opened with a growl, then a cacophony of metallic clanks. More orange lights added themselves to the blue as strobes flared and revolved at the end of the corridor, signifying the way was now open to the hangar. Ronn glanced beyond to see several large transport shuttles stood between a host of standard C-Sec patrol cars and heavy assault ships.

This was it.

The guard to his left approached with the handcuffs once more, getting ready to snap them into place. Closing his eyes, Ronn took a sharp breath.

The shockwave was like the blast of a shotgun at point blank range, a cyan burst that sent everyone within six feet hurtling into the air and knocking those beyond into their backs. Ronn's eyes were closed against the flash of light, but the illegal amp hidden beneath the plates at the back of his neck burned like acid as Ronn pushed it far beyond its technical capabilities.

The cries went out, 'He's loose! Shit, he's a biotic!'

It was already too late. Ronn had taken one of the fallen guards' rifles and he fired several accurate salvos back down the length of the corridor, killing two officers and sending the others scrambling to the ground. In that barren stretch of hallway there was no cover to speak of, and no one could return fire with the confused prisoners blocking their sight.

As Ronn started towards the hangar an alarm sounded at his back, along with a dozen guttural shouts of pleasure as the prisoners turned on their captors, sensing their own escape was now possible.

Ronn ignored them all. He was fixated on the hangar ahead.

His rifle came up and loosed a burst of shredding fire into a pair of uniformed officers who ran into view, their faces turning from bewilderment into agony as their bodies hit the deck. They had been in the process of climbing into a patrol shuttle, its doors still open. Ronn didn't hesitate and sprinted for it with his head bowed.

He was barely inside before the doors had closed and the craft lurched into the air, its mass effect core straining as it blazed forward through the kinetic field that marked the hangar entrance, out into the freedom of Zakera Ward's vast embrace.

~~~ME-I2~~~

It instantly dawned on Arlen that the place Prax had chosen for their meeting was not the open area that local topography suggested.

He stood for a moment at the entrance to an enormous scrapyard, a veritable mountain range of junk whose peaks were formed by starship hulls and valleys were mere corroded holes in long-discarded bulkheads. They stood as rough spikes against the soupy grunge of Korlus' sky, darkening the ground and dwarfing the industrial complex that squatted some distance away.

It was obvious even at a glance that Prax could have been lurking anywhere in that scattered wreckage. It was impossible for Arlen to ignore the unique prickling at the back of his neck plates that told of eyes watching, of a rifle's scope hovering over him unseen. There were a thousand potential hiding places overlooking the entrance to the yard alone and it took a force of effort not to turn around and walk away.

'I don't like this,' he muttered to Vasir as she too cast a critical eye over their destination, her troubled expression echoing his own reservations.

'Me neither. Only one way in and out, a whole lotta enfilade and he'll have scoped out escape routes well in advance. All we can do is hope Prax is acting in good faith.'

Arlen had seen little of either in recent days. He began to tread forward carefully, his eyes shining green as they swivelled to inspect every shadow and corner. Paths had been cut in the scrap, little more than deep gouges between the ragged pylons of refuse to form sickly yellow lines that funnelled Arlen and Vasir deeper into the scrapyard. His training kicked in, assessing everything at the back of his mind, keeping a tally of every advantage and disadvantage he'd have if they were attacked. Examples of the former were depressingly few.

They passed under the shadows of half-melted drive cores; ridged bowls of stained alloys that once manipulated the greatest forces in the universe, now just cradles for rusted girders and sheet metal. Frayed cables as thick as Arlen's waist splayed out from the wreckage to loop around decrepit shells of terminal banks that would have once burned with holographic light. The sheer enormity of materials and equipment was staggering, and yet Arlen knew that this junkyard would be considered small on Korlus. Vasir had told him of entire dreadnoughts gutted and squatting in the mud to form makeshift settlements for pirates, whole cities of scrap ruled by the lawless.

They had been walking for only a few minutes when they rounded a corner and Vasir placed a hand on Arlen's chest, stopping him in his tracks. He'd been so busy watching the mountains of trash that he was surprised to see a tall turian in thick green armour standing in a clearing ahead. It was the same turian he'd watched stalk off with the T-Seven back on Bekenstein. There was no doubt about it - this was Prax Cingetos.

Arlen and Vasir approached slowly, wary of any sudden movements. For his part, Prax watched them with interest and, Arlen couldn't help but note, a very subtle grin of amusement. The man stood relaxed, his already bulky outline made more so by the obscene number of weapons attached to every spare inch of his suit. With just a minor glance, Arlen could make out a heavy pistol at each hip, a shotgun and assault rifle on his back and even a grenade launcher near his shoulder, ready to be drawn in a pinch.

'Prax,' Vasir greeted coldly, coming to a halt at least a dozen paces away.

Prax inclined his head. 'Vasir. You're looking well.'

Arlen narrowed his eyes in confusion as Vasir gave Prax a thin smile. 'I will be once I get the hell off this planet. Even after cutting this deal, I might have to kill you for dragging me all the way out here.'

Prax chuckled, heightening Arlen's uncertainty. This had suddenly become a meeting between two old comrades and he had no choice but to let Vasir do the talking.

'Apologies,' Prax replied smoothly, 'but I had to pick somewhere appropriately out of the way. My initial contacts would have drawn too much attention to themselves in more civilised surroundings.' A strangely sad look came over him. 'It's just as well. They planned to kill me, hence the reason for our meeting.'

'Do you have it?' Vasir asked.

'Has my immunity been confirmed?'

Vasir opened her omni-tool and keyed a few quick commands. A small projection sprang from it, one that would usually accompany a close range comm call, but Arlen couldn't make sense of the scrolling body of text and numbers it displayed.

Prax, however, could. His gaze lit up as he saw what he apparently needed to see, and he sighed deeply as he nodded.

'That's the Council's code signature all right. Thanks, Vasir. I'm glad someone as practical as you was chosen for this.'

Vasir's voice became serious once more, the whimsical friendliness of moments before completely forgotten as she closed the omni-tool. 'I just hope it was worth it. You won't be able to stay in Council space, you know that, right?'

'I know what I've given up to do this,' Prax said heavily as he hung his head, 'but it could've been much, much worse.'

Vasir didn't move as Prax turned and stooped to push aside a heavy piece of debris with a foot. Underneath lay the scuffed and battered silver case of the T-Seven.

Arlen's pulse quickened at the sight. He couldn't take his eyes from it as Prax picked it up and held it up for Vasir to inspect.

'I'm sure you've been briefed already,' he remarked as the case glinted in the sun, 'but don't open the damn thing. Just get it away from here. Away from me.'

Arlen drew both their gazes as he spoke for the first time. 'Who were these "initial contacts" you were supposed to meet? The batarians?'

'I cannot say.' Prax's expression grew as hard as the ablative plating covering his body, 'Sorry, Agent Kryik but despite how things have turned out I can't betray the people I work with. You have the T-Seven but I offered - still offer - nothing more.'

Anger surged through Arlen, a hot rush that made him ignore Vasir's hand as he came up to his shoulder. He brushed it off as he stepped forward.

'You can't betray them?' he seethed. 'These people tried to kill you, endangered countless innocent lives and thanks to them you're now being forced to try and scrape together some sort of life in the Terminus Systems - and you're protecting them?'

The T-Seven slowly dropped as Prax lowered his arm, eyeing Arlen suspiciously. 'That's right. I don't expect you to understand, but I still have loyalties even greater than that I owe to the Council.'

'Well I hope they appreciate it, because it's sure as hell more loyalty than they've shown you.'

Hesitation played across Prax's features, the only sign of a private battle raging in the deepest recesses of his conscience.

Arlen pressed closer. 'I know what it's like to hold something so close to your heart that it feels like it's the only thing you have left. But trust me, Prax, the only thing you can be loyal to in this life are the ones who prove themselves worthy of it.' He thought of Lina as he said, 'If you're going to throw everything away, do it for the ones who would sacrifice everything for you in turn.'

Prax's lips twitched, his mandibles pulsing in thought. His gaze had become distant as he visibly digested Arlen's words, but in the end, he shook his head slowly.

'A Spectre doesn't have many of those, kid. If they do, well...I envy them.'

Something happened then. It was a flash that Arlen saw, coming from behind Prax, followed by an ear-splitting bang.

Arlen closed his eyes as blue blood sprayed over his face and his skin was whipped by fragments of armour, shaved off the top of Prax's collar.

Prax's eyes widened, meeting those of Arlen as they expressed all of his shock and pain. They turned up in their sockets as Prax slumped onto his knees.

A massive, dark shape was revealed behind him, toting a shotgun that Arlen recognised.

The Interceptor breathed the name, 'Inamorda…?'