"Outfits?" I asked, securing the heels to my feet. Indira bit her tongue as she scanned the datapad in her hand, an extensive list before her.
"Check," she said.
"Body paint?" I asked, testing the shoes ability to hold my weight. There would be dancing, my feet had to be prepared. A twirl assured me the balls of my feet would survive for a time.
"Check," Indira said.
"Contact lenses, masks, voice disruptors, weapons, shields, invitations, voice acting, back-up, shuttles?" I listed, raised an eyebrow. Indira smirked.
"Check, check, check, check, check, check, working on it, check and check!" she said, clasping the datapad behind her back. "Relax, Dellion! Everything will go fine! We've been working on this for months! I mean, it's too bad we couldn't get contacts to work on you, the purple still shines though. I blame the Reaper,"
"As do I," I sighed, shaking my red hair before reaching back to tie it up. "But I'm still worried! One screw up and the manor is going to turn into an artillery field of Reaper goodness!" My breath shuddered free, legs pacing the upper tier of my room.
"Ooo, artillery! We didn't think of that!" Indira said, eyes widening. My groan filled the room, making the drell laugh. Indira's crazy ideas could jump off bridge right now!
"Can I get some good news please?!" I begged.
"Good news here!" A cry sounded behind me. My eyes swivelled to the door, narrowing as Gideon skidded into the room, carrying an armful of clothes. Marshal hovered beside him, equally burdened. "Cops, Sassy, Phentos, Dick-Muncher, Iona, Una, Searte, Lynetllia, Hakern, Jarlan, Lesley, Kai and Alder are all ready to go, Seth is struggling to get his bow tie on though and Etal is complaining about the dress colour," Gideon said. "Also, Flash, Laegan and Drutus are already on site and are in position, the cars are here to take some people to the party too,"
"Please come up with a new nickname for Marruns, Gideon," I moaned. "As true as it is, I want to keep the swearing to a minimum," Gideon sulked, eyebrows dropping.
"Fine, I'll call him Whiney," he grumbled.
"Better. Tell Seth to man up, get ask Ishisus to help him and tell Etal she is more than welcome to pass it onto Veshin and sit the mission out entirely," I ordered.
"Aye, aye!" Gideon cheered, spinning around and charging out the door, drone in hot pursuit.
My hand ran over my tied hair as a sigh drained me of will. Fingers reached for a black haired wig and the decorative red, gold and black mask waiting for me on a head mannequin on the coffee table. Feathers on the left side of the mask screamed 'overkill' but no one accepted my complaints. Judging by some of the other masks, though, mine was not as flamboyant. Despite my best attempts, Mat'al didn't get the most exuberant salarian one. His cold glare promised retaliation though. With care, the wig slipped over my head, masking the mane of red in a sea of black. A quick scan assured me it was on making sure it sat right before putting on the mask. Staring at myself in the mirror, my purple eyes shone through. Damn you, raised blood vessels!
"So people are moving out?" I asked, yanking my shoulders down as a shawl swung over my arms and looped down my back.
"Yup, as Gid said, the snipers are already in place, the first lot of 'guests' will be leaving soon. You're in the third lot of cars. Val is in the first shuttle load, Marruns is in the second load, Mat'al is in the final set," Indira said, grinning. "Every mask is hooked up with cameras and microphones straight from the Spectre research development, we'll see everything you do, along with the snipers as well,"
"Fingers crossed this doesn't go south…" I muttered, striding out the door. Indira shadowed me.
"We'll be fine! We'll get her this time!" Indira cried, pumping a fist. My lips strained a small smile as my hand hit the elevator button for the bridge. "Everyone is in position. We have the shuttles on standby to give backup fire in case of retreat, the rest of the combat team is on standby for ground support, the whole science and intel teams are watching the cameras and microphones and engineering is ready to get the Starquake moving ASAP. Everything is covered!" Indira stressed. My head shook as the elevator doors parted.
"I trust nothing to go right," I sighed. "We can't find Rolidin to pin him down, Saria kicked my ass, Alea scared the absolute sanity from me and Megan can kick my ass in 4 seconds flat. I don't trust my luck with Saboteurs,"
"No one said it would be easy, Endellion," Raisha called, tearing my attention from Indira. Screens surrounded the krogan in the Control Ring, a flurry of movement, trackers and data streaming in. The CIC and Ground Ops rooms would be full of people watching the sensors and data. "We cannot prepare any more than we already have. We will succeed for we have no other choice,"
"Thanks for the pressure, Raisha," I grumbled. Raisha tilted her head, straightening her frame as her brows raised. Her light scolding gaze tore another grumble from me.
"First lot of cars are away, Captain. Off-setting them to decrease suspicion," Lanster called.
"Thank you, Lanster," I shook my head. "OK, let's get down there and see who I'm with,"
"I think you're being partnered up with Alder, Dellion. You are to act as Sir Ronald Herron and his partner Eliza Carrison," Indira said. My lips fluttered down before turning for the elevator. "We'll be watching you from here!"My hand raised as the doors to the bridge closed behind me, the elevator closing towards me.
My shoulders sagged as my feet shuttled towards the elevator, biting my lip as it carried me down to the lowest deck. Once there, the sight of Lera'laneia, one of Thessia's smaller cities, pocketed the sky before me through the open cargo door. Cars and people in the hold disrupted the view, the glamour of lights though, it left little time to admire the crystal like towers punching through the swam around me, my eyes on the armoury, Cathleen and Conner both hard at work outfitting everyone with guns and equipment. A short, sharp laugh pulled a groan from me.
"You look ridiculous, Shaik!" Marruns laughed. With the mission haunting my mind, it didn't have the will to do more than spare a glance towards the sandy turian.
"And you look retarded, even before you opened your mouth," I grumbled. Marruns squeaked before snarling. "Everyone ready?"
"Almost. Alright, second lot of people board your cars! We're getting a lot of traffic now so we can afford a few extra cars!" Anthon cried, a datapad in hand. Iona, Marruns, Kai and Lesley broke away from the group of people, heading towards the cars. A slow breath released sour air from my lungs.
"Here you go, Dell," Anthon passed my Paladin and Locust. A tight smile spread as the fell into my hands, the weight lifting off my shoulders with some actual fire power. They fell into their usual positions in stealth or non-armour missions; a double holster on my left it was one on each thigh, but my right thigh had to contend with a massive slit that spread to the upper thigh, no hiding a gun there. Movement dragged my attention behind me, Etal and Seth appearing. "We're all set, we'll be fine," he winked.
"I wish everyone would stop saying that like it's a mantra," I whined, touching the mask to make sure it was there still.
Minutes later, Anthon's voice boomed, summoning the third set of people to their cars. Alder approached me, his dark mop cut shorter to match the description of the guy he was playing as. He even started growing a beard as well. My gaze glued to Mat'al as we passed him, his dark skin now painted in a dark green with red marks at the corner of his eyes. Our gaze met, a brief passing, before my eyes returned ahead before my distraction brought me into a crash course someone. Alder, the sweatheart, offered a hand to help me into the back seat. My tight smile brightened his mood, despite knowing that I was more than capable of ascending the single step myself. The car hummed, rising off the ground and shot out towards the mansion. Despite the rolling hills surrounding the craggy mountains, overlooking a vast sea ebbing in the breeze, my mind wandered elsewhere. My eyes lifted as lights poked out from behind a ridge. The mansion sat inside a massive bay between towering peaks with a large expanse of land for gardens and who knows what else. It stood about triple the size of my mother's manor, no doubting that. My face twisted as new thoughts emerged; how on earth Alea could afford such a place. She worked as a diplomat, sure, but had she been around long enough to build up enough money for it? Did the Saboteurs have a bank account? …Ha! Joint bank account… that was... actually very frightening if some Saboteurs rolled in money… goddam it, brain!
"Nervous, Captain?" Alder asked, a heavy dose of Indian in his accent. A shaken smile twitched.
"Nervous? No, not at all. Stressed? Oh yes, oh God yes," I sighed, checking myself in the rear view mirror. Everything sat in place, unmoved since Indira helped pull everything together. Maybe she used some biotics to stick everything together. My lungs dragged in air as the car descended, dropping towards the mansion as we rounded the mountain curtain that hid it so.
The glass and concrete monstrosity rose 4 floors high, rising in an array of blocks and spires, housing over 1000 rooms in it. At least 1000, or hundreds of very large ones at least. It was a ghastly looking thing, all weird angles and even weirder window designs. They weren't simple rectangles, more triangular stained pieces overlapping each other in some sort of 'art' display brought about from some abstract era. With luck, we wouldn't stay long enough before the damn thing forced me to burn the whole thing down. The car pulled up next to several dozen others on the gravel pathway, a long fountain snaking its way down the drive and up the stairs to the door. Alder helped me out like the true gentlemen he was, giving me time to set my expression. It was mission time. Taking Alder's offered arm, we coasted up the white stairs, electronic blue streaks decorating the edges. As we approached the massive glass doors, Val glanced back to me, painted a dark bronze colour with off-white markings all over his face, already inside the main hall. Lynetlia cupped his arm, the blue asari changing her markings into a more decorative green marking. At least someone was in!
"Good evening sir, madam. Invitations please?" the masked doorman… asari… asked. Alder produced the invitation, our false names on the paper. After checking the datapad, she bowed. "Thank you sir, ma'am. Please enjoy the evening," she swept her arm towards the door. We bowed or curtsied, as this pair did for some odd reason, before entering the building. Tension coaxed free from my shoulders at stage one now ticked as complete.
In the bustle of the main hall, the remainder of the crew vanished from sight, people squashed into the waiting room before the actual ballroom opened. The main festivities would not start until everyone was here, or everyone of importance. Masked asari wandered between the bustle of people, trays of wine and champagne and other alcoholic beverages balanced in their hands. Alder plucked off two glasses of wine for off a passing tray, passing one to me. A frown formed as the pale pink rosé wine glittered in the crystal glass, gagging. If wine was forced into my hand, my preference stood at red wine, at least that held some flavour. To keep up appearance, the lip pressed to my lips. The quick sip provided a dry taste. Shit wine for a shit reception... Alder stood tall beside me, more confident in deposition than I and did most of the work for dragging us into conversations. He knew my own abilities at starting conversations with strangers, particular of this calibre. Alder's voice changer hid his Indian accent, twisting it into an Californian accent with a slight twang. Accents and me never agreed, thus the voice changer saved my hide. My voice sang in a French, somewhere near the Bordeaux region. A few voices rang from time to time, sparking a sense of familiarity from my time as a merc leader. The earlier tension returned. They were the kind of people who could stay out of my life forever.
An hour later, the doors to the main hall parted, enthralled gasps sounding as the huge room greeted them. A crystal dance floor, a diamond 9 tiered chandelier, marble pillars wrapped in golden ivy and balconies with golden animals roaring as they splashed free from golden liquid the banisters. Ok, fine, the room was impressive, even by my standards. Just a bit though, the room was OTT. The room wouldn't save the woman, but at least she has interesting tastes. A buffet table heaped with food with clear indications on what was levo and dextro amino awaited everyone on the far side of the wide room. My crew had strict rules; drink only to fit in, eat only to avoid suspicion. No one was going to get poisoned, or by God I would ask questions. But my mood soiled when ballroom music lit up the air. It's always bloody ballroom! My face squeezed together, shuddering at the sound. Dammit, even returning to Irish dancing seemed better than this! We hovered around the edges of the dance floor, the crowd thinning now we had a larger, more expansive room to spread out in. Away from the twirling skirts and fluttering tails from the suits, my eyes scanned. Some of my crew already took to the dance floor, some with their chosen partners if they had one, some with random strangers. Hell mend them, they were courageous. Wait... what if they were drunk already, some of them were lightweights! My head shook. No, no they'd be fine. A hand reached up as if to brush some hair from my face before tapping the microphone hole 4 times.
"Hey Dellion, having fun?" Indira's voice giggled in my ear. Sheer will buried the rising scowl as my gaze turned to Alder, my knuckle resting my jaw, pinkie resting on my lip and my thumb just under my ear. He turned to me, understanding. The 'In contact with ship' signal.
"I am, busier than I expected," I said, speaking to Alder. Alder opened his mouth, words tumbling out to answer me, but my attention fixed on my ear. He could hear what Indira said too, no doubt.
"Oh I know! The Councillor really bombed on the number estimate. We've managed to count at least 143 people already!" Indira exclaimed. A smile spread, but it felt taut. That was 40 more than we expected, and there was at least 200 here. "No sign of Alea yet, we'll let you know when we do,"
"Indeed, well, we had best mingle," I said. Alder glanced to the dance floor before offering a hand, lips pointing down. Bless him, he loathed dancing.
The next two hours played out as such. Dancing, talking – lots of gossip, one of the highest admirals in the Turian army had marriage problems, something I didn't need to know – as well as odd behaviour as alcohol entered into everyone's system. Most people were fine, only a small group were determined to do a western style shoot out with champagne bottles in a quiet corner somewhere. A grin spread when one salarian, confused as he why he couldn't get his cork free, smacked him in the face when the cork burst out. There was still no sign of Alea though. My concern only bubbled more. Part way through the evening, a female crew member drifted between us, stealing Alder from me to have a catch-up on the mission progress. With little else to do, and no male members of the party or asari nearby to keep me occupied, my eyes drifted to the table of waiting food and drink. My mind restrained my stomach, pushing me away from what could be poisoned temptation. My feet wandered over to a pillar lining the edge of the room, a decorative table now filled with empty glasses before it. A lone male leaned against the pillar, shaking his head as he watched the sight before him. The black and blue mask interrupted his blond hair, lopping over his eyes. My shoulders settled, a rising bubble of anxiety building before crossing the distance, leaning on the other side. It's too dangerous to be alone. Anyone could ambush me. The man snorted.
"What a disaster," he said.
"The bad dancing, the dry wine or the lack of a host?" I asked. A grin grew on his face, eyes drifted to study me out the corner of his eyes.
"All of the above, on top of tasteless food, terrible dress sense… What is she thinking?" he groaned, shaking his head as an asari twirled past in some god awful yellow dress that had more in common with a pufferfish than a dress. My brows furrowed, teasing the meaning of his words; did he mean the asari or Alea? Without further probing, my shoulders shrugged, taking a guess.
"Maybe this is a test, whoever can deal with the horrible nature of the whole party gets to go into the real do later," I snorted. He chuckled.
"In a place this size, I'm willing to bet she has more than enough space to entertain special guests without our interruption," he said, turning to me, sapphire blue eyes flitting over me. My body froze, muscles seized while a flash of blue eyes from Alea's psychosis flared up. My throat tightened, my stubbornness burning past the initial freeze and pushed it to the side. Deal with it later. AS he turned to reveal his frame in full grandeur, a scar cut across his right eye, the true extent hidden by the mask. "Come, I've noticed you have been taking it easy on your two-left footed partner," a smile slipped free. So he noticed that... and he noticed me too.
"That sounds like a challenge, sir," I sid, taking his hand. He smirked.
"Perhaps it was," he murmured. leading me across the stone floors. My weak laugh sounded soft, but it hid the true reluctance behind them. Dancing with someone who wasn't a member of my crew was risky. If they knew the person I was impersonating and asked personal questions... With a feigned smile, we strode out onto the sparkling dance floor. One hand lifted mine to the side, another of his massive hands cupping my hip. He wasn't too tall that my hand couldn't reach his shoulder. The waltz began. My eyes begged to turn away from his eyes, away from the blue and the critical study they radiated. He smiled after a time, twirling me before leading me deeper into the crowd. My heart fluttered.
"Interesting choice of contact lenses," he said. Tension danced along my shoulders, but a light laugh masked any unease his words brought.
"Darling, if you are going to go to a masquerade you must go the whole way. Where's the fun in stopping at simple masks?" I asked with a coy smile. He snorted a short laugh, grinning.
"I'm afraid I'm not one to dress up beyond formal attire, but I praise your passion," he chuckled. He twirled me easily, a hand returning to my hip as he guided me around another two dancing couples. Never once did our feet connect. A warm relief.
"Well, I can tell you surpass my partner on all fronts of dance already," I laughed as we twirled. A cheeky smirk crossed his lips.
"Well, that isn't exactly hard," he said with a broad smile. Air whistled through my lips at the feigned sharp intake of air, fighting to suppress a smile.
"Oh don't tell him that. He tries so hard," I added with a light undertone of sarcasm. His laugh burst out, taken by surprise.
"I'll try not to hurt his feelings," he chuckled as the waltz ended. The beginnings of a foxtrot rang out from the orchestra. "Or yours," he added with a sly smirk. An innocent smile floated over my face before my hands dragged him forwards three steps. He fought back against my attempt to tip him, recovering from my surprise lead. He gawked down at me while my lips lifted ever higher.
"Oh please, do try to keep up," I laughed. He blinked, composing himself before chuckling, pulling himself into a more stable position. He stepped with more caution.
We danced for another two dances, twirling around the room with the stranger in the dark mask. The foxtrot evolved into a jig. He knew how to dance, how to lead, how to place his feet. Now that he knew of my experience, he felt more comfortable pushing me to more complex and involved movements. Yet he always kept an eye out for other couples, never allowing one to tread too close. His hands held me with care, well, not so much now that he felt comfortable, but with a hand on his shoulder, the muscle rippled as he restrained himself from squeezing too tight. Throughout it all, we spent the entire time complaining about the party as a whole, how mishandled it was. The lack of a host hit a sore point for both of us. He wished to meet her for whatever reason, but my mind drifted to the mission, to ripping her spine out. He twirled me before dragging me close, dropping me into a low dip. My arms flung around his neck to stop myself falling backwards. He grinned at my surprise.
"Well, the night hasn't been a complete waste of time," he said in a low tone. Despite the precarious position, a small laugh pushed free. His grin widened as my own lips lifted.
"There is always something to pick the party… up?" I said, words dying. My eyes fixated onto the sea of blue before me. This close to his face, I could see it. Circuitry in his eyes. It danced like celtic symbols across his irises. His expression changed at the same time, noticing the same markings in mine. The smile died and his grip on me tightened, no longer restraining. My muscles began to sting. My breath froze in my lungs as we straightened. We stood, rigid on the dance floor, locked onto each other's eyes. My legs trembled as my mind went into meltdown. We had expected to fight Alea and her mind fuck. The last thing we needed, and expected, was another Saboteur.
"Well. This is interesting," he said. A stiff smile tugged at my lips.
"Oh absolutely. Unfortunate, but interesting," I agreed. His grip on my hand and hip tightened.
"Unfortunate indeed," he echoed, whispering with a low voice. My breath refused to release.
"Oh what a wonderful eve!" a voice cried.
The new Saboteur spun, his grip on me weakening. There was no missing that opportunity. My body jerked back, freeing myself from his grip before backing away. Mat'al crossed my frantic glance around the team. Val stood near enough for me to shuffle closer towards him for safety. My eyes drifted up, spotting Alea on the second floor, overlooking the floor from the balcony. My hand twisted a signal behind my back: follow my lead. A quick glance confirmed the hand signal flew throughout my scattered crew. The crowd waved and weaved, pressing for a better position to see the older asari. My crew took the opportunity and moved behind me, mixed among the crowd near the main entrance side of the hall. A gap had opened up around the new Saboteur as Alea smiled down towards him. The new Saboteur straightened, frowning as he stood exposed by the retreating crowd.
"Palalrian, good evening! Such a surprise to find you here," she said, a trace of menace in her face.
"Zufiaurre," he said, tone dry. Alea smiled, her smile lacking any emotion.
"You are proving to be just as pathetic as Nyryntha is, Palalrian. Your Shell should have been under control years ago," Alea said. My eyebrows shot up. Wait… Palalrian? But Palalrian was the Enforcer! He wasn't Namacuix? His… his Shell was still in control? My body jerked, stiffened, when yelps and curses rang out from the crowd. People from the crowd shoved aliens into the middle, pushing them closer towards the the man as a gap widened around him. About 35 people shambled to a stop beside him, aliens of all species as they huddled around him, offering apologetic smiles before glaring up at Alea.
"What can I say? It's in our blood," Palalrian offered. Alea snorted.
"It shall not be long now. The Advocacy floats on the abyss, tredding the knife edge, Keneiloe has already met her and established as much. She will fall soon. And you will have failed," Alea cooed. The new Saboteur snarled. My eyes scanned the crowd, noticing several grew ready to draw weapons. My hand eased down to Paladin at my thigh. "It is unfortunate, Palalrian. You are becoming far too troublesome and are proving to be impossible to control. Even Namacuix tires of having to deal with you,"
"Well, that is an unfortunate problem he will just have to put up with, isn't it?" Palalrian said through grit teeth. Guns flew out into the open. The Paladin joined them, to match, to fit in. Alea couldn't notice me until we could get someone close to her, the whole plan depended on taking her by surprise! The crew followed suit. "So, you've indoctrinated all of these people, hmm?"
"Well, the Advocacy would have a much easier time controlling the crowd than I, but the technology exists. The indoctrination process will have taken hold by the end of the evening," Alea retorted.
"Oh and your little sidekick didn't help?" Palalrian asked. Alea paused. My heart leapt in my chest. Fuck!
"Sidekick?" Alea echoed. Palalrian laughed, a harsh sound.
"I've already discovered the other Saboteur, Zufiaurre. Too afraid to tackle me on your own?" he challenged. Alea straightened, flicking her eyes around the crowd.
"There is no other Saboteur here… not by my request," Alea murmured. Palalrian's confidence died.
"What? But then… why is…?" he asked. My eyes shuffled to Alea, watching her eyes flick over the crowd. Her eyes landed on me. Reaper called to Reaper. Her eyes widened. My heart exploded.
"FIRE!" I screeched. A heartbeat stood between my command and the window shattering as sniper rounds flew into her head, dropping her on the ground. Gunfire roared a second later. "Non-lethal! These people aren't fully indoctrinated! They might still be saved!" I cried over the noise as my shields shattered.
My finger flipped a switch on the Paladin as my back rolled over a fallen table for cover, turning my bullets into non-lethal electrocution rounds. Screams of people rang around me and the smoke bombs destroyed any hope of a clear shot. A salarian looked from the gloom, a wild attempt to claw my face off. Instinct grabbed his head and cracked it against a pillar to knock him out. The Paladin thundered in my grip, a group of turians charging for some of my crew stumbling onto the ground. A small band of the team – Mat'al, Phentos and Iona – used the mess of people to clamber up to reach the second floor. They rushed towards Alea, knwoing full well she Saboteur would not stay down for long. A sniper laser danced in the area, watching for any movement from the Saboteur. A bullet grazed my cover, my head shirking away behind a pillar. My shields finally back up.
Over the gunfire, the squelching sound of ripped flesh died, the gunfire too powerful. Peeking around the pillar, my gaze found Iona and Mat'al yanking the spine out, Iona pulling Alea, Mat'al cutting away the muscle and structure surrounding the spine. Phentos provided cover fire. Once free, Mat'al ran along the balcony before tossing the spine to Jarlan. He and Una raced out the room with the spine, sprinting towards the inbound shuttles, away from the wild gunfire that consumed the hall. My mind drifted back to possible artillery fire. Dammit, Indira's crazy ideas came up at the worst times! The trio on the balcony provided a high vantage point as we down the indoctrinated servants, praying the hold was temporary. My head poked out from behind the pillar, an overload erupting in a crowd of asari. The electrocuted aliens twitched as they got caught in the crossfire. They fell, whether they were alive or dead, it wasn't possible to tell from this distance. Val roared over the noise, demanding the flanks be protected. As someone on the flanks, it seemed a good opportunity to release the drone. Mar whizzed away, dashing to cause chaos in a group of wild indoctrinated servants. My body jerked as a shotgun threatened to blast out my eardrums, my ears ringing as my hand reached out and grabbed someone appearing from over my cover. The poor human didn't stand a chance as desperation smashed my fist into his face. 3 times.
20 minutes of carnage and turmoil, of bullets and screams of terror, surprise and rage. When the dust settled, my eyes flew around the room. A head count proved fruitless. My voice cried a rallying call, gathering the crew to my side. A frantic head count eased my heart. All were accounted for. As the adrenaline eased out of my blood, my arm stung. Glancing down, a bullet wound pierced the through the armour on my upper arm. In the flurry of battle, my body didn't even register that wound or anything related to it. Thank God for adrenaline. My gaze swung around my crew, assessing their wounds and general care. Val stood by my side in a heartbeat as Mat'al, Iona and Phentos hopped back down to ground level. Blood collected in small puddles, burns scorched the armour and guns still smoked from use. Bloodied but alive. With a nod of my head and a twirl of a hand over my head, the crew turned to leave. My earlier dread died as warm relief spread through my chest.
A bullet bounced off the floor by my feet. My heart leapt to my throat as everyone spun on their toes, my Paladin pointed. Palalrian and his team stood, unscathed from the conflict. Their stared us down, weapons free while fanned out behind him. Palalrian's eyes trained on me, hard, critical, refusing to allow a Saboteur out of his sight. My own eyes narrowed, Paladin steady in my grip. Some members of his crew nursed a small injury; a burn or a bullet to the leg, but they remained on their feet or down on one knee. How Palalrian escaped harm wasn't important now. Too many possibilities; ducking, fleeing behind cover, biotics, tech shields. My jaw set, teeth locked together, eyebrows knotted down and a frown cemented in place. What to do with him…
The Timeline and Galaxy Map have been updated for this chapter. Please see profile for link to Archive.