Author's Note

In a perverse act of necromancy, I'm attempting to resurrect this story. Hope it's not too terrible.


CHAPTER EIGHT

Never be known by your superiors on a first name basis. The navy's rule on this was as

much a constant as the very rules of the cosmos itself, to break this rule meant you were

either going to end up in a small cell for the rest of your life while politicians disavowed you

and your actions by every news agency in the core or you were being put in a much smaller

box while those same politicians were making speeches glorifying your actions and your

lineage. Either way, retirement was out of the picture.

Three sets of mirror polished dress shoes echoed down a black marble floor, contrasted by

the white walls, the column facades made the corridor appear very stately with portraits

spaced evenly, depicting men and women in grand military regalia and various banners

depicted behind each work of dramatic art.

The individuals walking down the hall consisted of a man and woman with jet black hair

and pale skin, both towering over two meters tall and their white uniforms doing little to

conceal the sheer physical prowess of these giants. Their home planet had been reduced

to a black rock thousands of years ago and yet they forged one of the greatest empires the

galaxy had ever seen.

In stark contrast, the third was another female with far softer features, her earthy olive skin

and markedly smaller frame her uniform a powder blue gave the impression she was being

escorted by the larger pair, given that she stood nearly half a meter shorter than the pair,

but nothing could be farther from the truth. As they approached a pair of ornate oak doors,

the smaller female paused while the larger two grasped the handles and pushed the heavy

doors open.

The room inside was far warmer in décor with red carved wood paneling, overstuffed chairs

and a desk beside an interior door. The interior door was far less imposing with a coat of

arms above the door, flanked by a pair of flagpoles topped with a winged bird atop each.

The smaller female approached the desk with the larger two waited at parade rest by the

double doors.

"Captain Joanna Naabal, as per request of First Minister Elson," her voice was steady as

she kept her eyes focused forward, the man behind the desk nodded and touched his

temple.

"Sir, the officer you requested has arrived. Yes, sir."

"He's expecting you," the man rose and opened the interior door.

As Joanna entered, the interior office was not what she had expected. Much of the décor

matched the outer office, carved wood paneling, a matching desk and actual bookshelves.

The office looked pretty standard for a mid level executive, but the man behind the desk did

not look like an executive, the sleeves of his white collared shirt rolled up to his elbows

showed his powerful forearms, the electronic device in his hands looked tiny in

comparison and his well trimmed obsidian black beard completed a look of a man of

immense physical strength. He looked up at Joanna as she entered, gave her a warm smile

and gestured to the chair across the desk from him.

"Have a seat Joanna, forget the salute."

Joanna strode forward, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly sitting in the chair, her

feet barely touching the floor.

"Apologies, my office is typically suited for Taiidan stature, but I suppose you're used to it

by now."

"No need to apologize First Minister."

"Please, call me Miran."

Joanna could not help but smile at this, Miran Elson had been First Minister of the Taiidan

Republic for nearly a decade and yet he still had not picked up many of the insufferable

traits that galactic leaders were famous for. Suddenly her posture became more rigid as

she looked at those disarming dark eyes and charming smile that could swindle the

thriftiest of traders.

"So, First Minister. What's the suicide mission?"

Miran's brow raised slightly before he chuckled and shook his head.

"That's what I love about frigate captains, none of you have much patience for politics."

Miran turned the device he was holding and displayed the image in front of Joanna, who

very quickly grasped it and began thumbing through the images. She recognized the yellow

and red markings from her father's lessons, but it wasn't something she had seen in

person. Putting down the device, she then looked up at Miran, her brows furrowed slightly.

"Riddle isn't it? Imperialist Taiidan heavy cruisers, given my people dealt with the last of

them over a century ago." Miran pressed his palms on the desk, rising slowly he walked over

to the bookshelf to the left of his desk, pulling on one of the volumes, there was a distinct

click and one whole section opened like a door. Joanna rose to follow him into a room with

a large holographic table and a dozen military offers working at holographic displays.

"Joanna, welcome to the room and organization that doesn't exist. Tell me, what do you

know about the Ishmaya Galaxy?"

"Barred spiral, slightly larger than our own, Hiigaran Fleet Intelligence sent hardware to

assist the Terrans who were under occupation by an imperialist looking to carve out a little

fiefdom. Terrans kicked the shit out of them, formed a partnership with the Daiamid and

then bumped into a coalition called the Citadel Council. Relations are civil if not cool."

"Well, you can take that summary and toss it right into the middle of Balcoa," a young

officer approached them and gave a salute.

"Lieutenant Fardin is here to bring you up to speed."

"Captain, the situation in the Ishmaya Galaxy is tenuous at the moment and we frankly

have very little in the way of options. A few days ago, Taiidan heavy cruisers with advanced

weaponry supported by Vaygr picket forces and strike craft assaulted the Terran colony of

Eden Prime.

"We are unsure of their objectives, our own intel suggests there may have been a

xenoarchological find they were after. The why isn't our focus, we need someone to take

command of a recon frigate and find out where these holdouts are conducting these

attacks."

Joanna exhaled as she momentarily glanced at Miran and back at the officer.

"What ship and when does the task force leave."

"No task force, you leave by yourself. We tried to get leeway with the Galactic Council, but

they are not budging on this issue. No additional fleet assets are permitted through and

even personnel are a tricky one. The Hiigarans send an officer it will be seen as them

interfering in the actions of the Systems Alliance. You're Hiigaran but being part of the

Republic Auxiliaries, we feel you taking command of the scout vessel would keep most

parties while not happy, at least in line."

"So, if this goes straight to hell, everyone gets to save face and.." Joanna trailed off at this,

jolting slightly as Miran spoke up.

"Come now, Jojo. Darius told me you would welcome the challenge."

"Fine, you're right. I'll take the mission, but I need something from you,"

"Yes?"

"Find the biggest government regulated boot you got and kick that wise ass Sobani into the

nearest star." She couldn't believe that her old skipper would tell anyone her nickname

from her Nimbus days. Let alone the leader of the bloody Taiidan Republic.

"And that is why he put your name forward. You leave immediately. I'll have my yeoman

provide you with the technical schematics and crew dossiers. I hear the Normandy is a fine

ship."


"Vakarian!" The sharp report of the voice was none other than the executor of Citadel

Security, the station's equivalent of chief of police.

"Sir," Garrus rose from where he was sitting on the hood of a skycar where paramedics

were treating a few lacerations on his right forearm and abdomen.

"Your instincts are the reason I wanted the human to learn from you. Tell me at what point

does getting kidnapped and used as a hostage teach the human about policing and

investigation?"

"I had a feeling that someone was tailing us, and I had made the assumption that one of the

local stim gangs wanted to bump me for our sting last month, we put a lot of their

lieutenants away," Garrus tilted his head to the right and walked over to the burnt out

remains of a delivery vehicle.

"Looks like you got lucky." Offered the Executor.

Garrus walked up to the remains and crouching down, he pulled a knife from a sheath by

his right shin and then pried a blackened price of the burnt-out material to the executor

who then examined it, turning the bubbly obsidian material.

"How are you not severely burned, Vakarian?"

"Because you're dealing with thermite, these were pros," the voice caused both to turn, the

voice was another C Sec officer, a turian with blue white markings and green eyes walking

beside none other than Nihlus.

"Chellick," Garrus rumbled folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head down.

"Garrus, you can kick my ass once this is all over. We need to go somewhere private; we're

damn sure this isn't some mercs doing a kidnap job, someone has moved a ton of credits

to get their hands on this specific human. Special Tactics is willing to share limited intel as

long as we keep this quiet. Emily Wong is writing up a piece to say the Alliance officer was a

target of anti-human extremists, you're the brave officer that saved her from certain death."

"I really don't like these underhanded tactics and lying to the public, but I will allow it up to

a certain point. Now, let's get back to C-Sec, figure this out before the public gets nervous."

Pallin said, gesturing to the nearby C-Sec squad car.

Several hours later, Garrus was standing in an interrogation room going over a datapad

while a volus sat on the polished stainless-steel chair, looking over at the pacing turian.

"I think, *hiss* I want my attorney, now."

"Funny Jahleed, you know what I want? I wanted to go home, sit on my sofa and crack a

cold one, watch the Palaven Defenders secure another win. I didn't want a little army of

asari tapdancers hammering away at my skull and I most definitely didn't want to be

picking bits of Zakeri FastFreight out of my carapace for the next month," Garrus raised his

voice as he firmly tossed the datapad on the table, causing the volus to jump.

"Be that…"

Garrus interrupted Jahleed by slamming his palms firmly on the table and looking into the

volus' eyes.

"On the other side of the mirror is a friend of mine named Nihlus Kryik, he's from Special

Tactics. We know you're being tailed, and we know you're working with Chorban. There's

only two ways this is going to play out," Garrus swiped his fingers over the datapad until it

reached the copy of a document.

"We backtraced your communications with Chorban, we know that you have been

gathering data on the keepers. Now this would normally land you with a hefty fine, a

lifetime ban on the Citadel and a ticket home, but that was before you upgraded from white

collar crime to terrorism!" Garrus leaned over Jahleed, growling as he whispered.

"You're going to tell me why you tried to kill an Alliance officer, and you're going to tell me

right this instance, or I swear to the spirts that I'm going to walk out of here and Spectre

Kryik will take over and it's going to get really fucking ugly."

Jahleed sat bolt upright, a slight tingling could be heard from the cuffs.

"I don't know *hiss* what they want, I swear! I just formatted the data *hiss* and logistics

Fist didn't…" Garrus' mandibles flared, tilting his head slightly before straightening his

posture, pulling out the second chair, he sat opposite of Jahleed.

"So, Fist has branched out to domestic terrorism? Seems kind of stupid to try something

like that with the Spectres just a Citadel arm away?"

"I didn't know who we *hiss* were working with. Chorban *hiss* insisted the keeper data

was valuable. But I had a feeling he was lying."

"Explain," Garrus pulled the data pad back, swiping over it, he began tapping on the device.

"The data was highly *hiss* corrupted. If it was keeper data, the streams *hiss* were

unusable. I told Chorban I wanted *hiss* out. That's when Fist introduced himself *hiss*

and his goons.

"It was made clear that leaving *hiss* wasn't an option."

Garrus was interrupted as the door opened and Nihlus stood there in his dark armor,

Jahleed looking like he was trying to sink into the floor.

"Let's go Garrus, seems someone else beat us to the punch. Fist is dead and we're tasked

with interviewing the primary suspects. A human and a krogan."

Garrus stood just as a younger human with short, cropped blonde hair entered.

"Officer Lang, read Jahleed here his rights and let him call his attorney," Garrus replied as

he left the room with Nihlus.


Alaya's vision was slowly clearing her dulled senses coming back into focus, staring up at a

dull metal ceiling, letting out a soft groan as she slowly sat up. Looking around the small

room, she noticed a quarian female pacing the room.

"Ancestors! You're alive," the quarian's energetic voice cut through the silence as she

approached Alaya who backed up momentarily her hand reaching to her side where she

was greeted with a lack of a sidearm.

"Right," the quarian paused and exhaled.

"I'm Tali'Zorah nar Rayaa. You've been taken prisoner like me, I don't know what they want,

I've been staring at nonsensical code for days. They don't tell me anything, I don't know

what they want. I…I…" Tali's words became increasingly rapid, her hand gestures

increasingly rapid, Alaya grasped her hands and looked directly at her faceplate.

"Hey, it's okay, we're going to get through this. You're alive so that means they still want

something, so that gives us the advantage."

"Advantage?" Tali tipped her head in slight confusion.

Alaya was about to respond when the door hissed open and a human male in gray ERCS

armor entered, holding a pistol in his right hand. His helmet had a darkened visor, making it

impossible to see the person underneath.

"Have a nice nap, exile?"

Tali sighed as she stood up, walking towards the man, "you know, this could go much faster

if you actually gave me unencrypted data to work with."

The man leaned in and towered over her, the quarian taking a half step back, the man

turning his helmet towards Alaya.

"That's why we picked up princess here, she knows the code and my employer will have

what he wants and we will let you go."

"You mean kill us."

"Ha!" The man barked out, taking a step back.

"You do standup on the flotilla, quarian? I'm not stupid, killing you is pointless, and hard to

spend my creds with a bounty on your head. So, just do as you're told and everyone goes

home, yeah?" The man cocked his pistol to which Alaya stood and followed Tali out of the

small, improvised cell into a larger windowless room, various worktables strewn with

hardware and a console and large screen.

Alaya froze in place as she stared at the screen, immediately feeling dizzy, completely sick

to her stomach and a heat in her face as she could feel a sense of fear coursing through her

veins.

"Keep it moving," the guard said as he pushed both of them forward, cuffing them to the

workstation.

"Right, so this is the pattern," Tali gestured to a segment of the data.

"Spit it out," the guard barked, poking the barrel of his pistol at the back of Alaya's neck.

Alaya closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and then exhaling raggedly, it was her hands that

were shaking now.

"The message isn't encrypted, it's alien. The Keeper is aware, the Keeper understands, the

Keeper has seen the enemy."