Fallout, Mass Effect 1. Chapter 1

The second worst thing about the attack on Eden Prime, Councilor Sparatus decided, was that it was going to make humans completely unbearable to deal with.

At the absolute best of times interacting with humans was a lot like talking to children. Stubborn, rowdy children with laser rifles and Mass Effect technology. Not so long ago they unleashed nuclear weapons and terrifying viruses on their own planet, wiping out millennia of technological and cultural progress. A lot of them became literal cavemen. Small caches of technology and data hidden away in apocalypse proof vaults allowed them to restore their technological level in three centuries rather than a hundred. But culture is not so easily restored.

Only two species ever proved to be the right combination of violent and stubborn to nuke their own planet. The krogan just got even more hardy and violent than before. The humans never went that far, but what happened instead was in some ways worse. They flew into space before their heroes and villains had time to fade into history, much less myth. The scientists decoding the Prothean archives on Mars were at most a few generations removed from adventurers walking through the wasteland with wide-brimmed hats pulled over their eyes and shooting slavers and cannibals. They were a young race with the technology of an old race at their disposal. Children really was the correct description.

Like any children they got into plenty of trouble. They encroached into zones the Council races traditionally left alone as buffers. They kept petitioning for more Arrays to be thrown open. They were caught conducting illegal studies of the Citadel's Keepers. They seemed to always be on the verge of starting a war with the batarians. But this latest trouble was not of their doing. Which meant that instead of being dragged in to be chastised they would barge in demanding things. And worse, they'd arguably be right to do so.

And even worse, he'd have to listen to them. He was listening to one of them right now.

As humans went, Shepard was not a particularly imposing specimen. She was shorter than either of her subordinates and very soft. All humans looked kind of soft to a turian, but the contours of her face and her unusually large eyes gave off a suggestion of youth and delicacy. If Sparatus didn't know who she was, he might have guessed she was under the age of majority. If she stepped out of her combat armor and ran a comb through the unkempt mane of chocolate-brown hair, she could easily pass as one of the thousands of girls who flocked to the Citadel each year in search of galactic culture or just some excitement.

The combat logs from three days ago showed her killing 173 geth.

And that was the problem with humans, really. You couldn't tell with them.

For instance, Shepard's eyes were exploring her podium with an unsettling concentration. For a few seconds Sparatus found himself staring at it too, just to see what was so interesting about. Not finding anything special, he decided to call her attention back to the proceedings.

"Courier Shepard?"

Her eyes flipped upward to meet Sparatus's own and she stood a little straighter. But she just didn't seem as interested in him as she was in the podium and after several seconds her eyes drifted down again.

"You and your party were on Eden Prime during the geth attack. We have access to your combat logs, but it would help us understand the situation if you told us the story."

"All right..." Shepard creased her forehead. "It went a little like this..."

* * *

"I don't like this."

Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, one of the greatest pilots in the employ of Systems Alliance, liked very few things. Good alcohol, pretty women, leather seats, and captains who hadn't read up on obscure genetic conditions made the list. The current mission did not.

"First they send us on a shakedown run with the one-of-a-kind ultra-expensive prototype ship that - get this - has stealth capabilities for if we need to sneak by a huge enemy fleet. Then the Alliance sends us a Courier. And then the turians send us a Spectre. Call me paranoid but I think we're about to run into some major trouble."

"You're paranoid," Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko answered without hesitation. "This is a big moment for us _and_ for the Council. I'm sure the politicians just wanted to throw a few extra chips into the pot."

"Yeah, no, that's bull. If the Council just wanted to show off they'd send along an admiral or a politician, not a Spectre. And a Courier? Couriers exist to solve problems. We wouldn't be getting one if the Alliance didn't think we were about to have a problem. And we wouldn't be getting Zetta Shepard of all people if they didn't expect that problem to involve gunfire."

"There's tons of other reasons they could have sent her," Alenko objected.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Maybe they're planning to take pictures. Shepard's one of the Alliance's biggest heroes. It looks good to have her standing next to our new ship," Kaidan paused for a second before a mischievous twinkle snuck into his eye. "I mean, it looks _really_ good."

"All right, I'll give you that one," Joker answered with a laugh. "_Maybe_ they just called up one of the most dangerous women in the universe because they expect her to put on a bikini and pose on top of their ship. But I seriously doubt it."

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Alenko interrupted. "You could _hear_ us?"

"Of course."

"Well, that's...um, yeah," Alenko finished lamely.

"I know people find me attractive. I've seen the pornography they make with my lookalikes," Shepard explained helpfully.

"Not quite the details we were looking for," Sparatus commented, looking visibly annoyed. "Please continue your account."

"Very well. At that point Captain Anderson..."

* * *

Captain Anderson tapped Shepard's shoulder. Or at least he tried to. When he did, Shepard casually leaned her shoulder to the side, avoiding the touch, and then spun around in the same seamless motion, coming face to face with him.

"Shepard. Are you up for a briefing? Nihilus wants to meet you."

Shepard gave him a measured look, eyes drilling into his skin like electronic microscopes. After a moment's hesitation her lips formed a tight smile.

"Of course."

With another fluid movement Shepard shifted stances and moved alongside the captain.

"Your people are scared of me," she noted, pointing with her chin at a small knot of crewmen leaning together like conspirators.

"Not at all. They're just intimidated."

Shepard cocked her head in puzzlement.

"What's the difference?"

"They know that you could do very bad things to them if you wanted to. But they also know that you're on their side. That makes you intimidating."

"I see," Shepard nodded, as if receiving some sage wisdom. "What about Nihilus? Is he intimidating or scary?"

Anderson couldn't resist a small smile.

"If that's your way of asking if he's on our side, the word from on high is that we're to give him all the cooperation we can, and he's never done anything to strain the alliance. Some of the crew are uneasy, of course. But as for you personally? I doubt you have anything to be scared of."

"You think I can take him?"

"If I said no, would that scare you?"

"No."

"There you go, then."

Anderson stopped, pressing his palm against the scanner. The doors opened with an accommodating swoosh, revealing a round room containing some communication machinery, a holographic projector, and a turian.

"Shepard, this is Nihilus. He's here to observe and lend us a hand if we need one. Nihilus, this is Shepard. She'll command our ground forces and create miracles as needed."

Nihilus nodded and gave the turian version of a smile.

"Well, hopefully it won't come to that. But I actually do know who Shepard is. You're famous among your own kind," he addressed the woman.

"Humans?"

"No. Couriers."

"Do you know many Couriers?"

"Not in person, no. But I follow the lore a little. When it comes down to it, your organization is a lot like mine."

"It _is_ similar. But different! More organic. Spectres are top down, imposed by the Council to fill the gaps between the laws. Couriers grew naturally out of adventurers."

"Adventurers?"

"Yes," Shepard nodded, her face alight with enthusiasm. "Adventurers. Explorers. Vault delvers. Monster hunters. Small units, informal organization, built-in problem-solving expertise. Very important to the Republic."

"Problem solving, huh? Sounds like you _are_ just like Spectres," Nihilus smirked.

"You have to know how to solve _any_ kind of problem. You need to be able to get through a locked door, create and repair infrastructure, spy on people, negotiate with people, shoot at people...there is less shooting at people than you would think, but still a lot of shooting at people."

"Yeah, I get that," Nihilus nodded in empathy. "They give us all the authority in the world, but at the end of the day some people won't accept any authority except that which comes from the barrel of a gun."

"We have less authority than that. We're supposed to keep our activities quiet. One reason I'm famous is that I'm less good at quiet."

"Still, it seems like when Earth is finally ready to have a Spectre of its own, you won't be lacking for candidates."

"I have a cousin back in San Francisco," Shepard said, closing her eyes, as if in an attempt to picture her relative more clearly. "She's only two years old. Maybe she could be the first human Spectre."

"If she's anything like you? She very well could."

"Nihilus? The beacon?" Anderson reminded gently.

"Right. Of course. The _other_ reason I wanted to meet you. The truth is, this mission is far more than a simple shakedown run."

"I see," Shepard answered noncommittally.

"We're here for a covert pickup. A research team on Eden Prime dug up a Prothean beacon. I assume you know the importance of such a find."

Shepard nodded. Of course she knew. Everyone knew.

"Knowledge," she intoned, just in case. "Possibly technology. Every beacon is a galactic treasure. Everyone wants one."

"And right now your people have one," Nihilus agreed. "And in the spirit of sharing, we're here to escort it to the Citadel. Best case scenario, we enjoy a nice train ride, pick up a tall box, and get back before anyone has a chance to miss us. We can use the time to get to know each other better, maybe swap a few stories. I'm guessing you've got some good ones."

"Worst case scenario?" inquired Sheprad.

"We get to show each other what we can do."

* * *

"Unless something of importance happened during the briefing, I think we can fast forward a little," Councilor Valern interrupted.

"If you like. After the briefing was completed, we made the transit to the Eden Prime system, where…"

"You found your worst case scenario," interrupted Sparatus.

"Yes we did," Shepard continued, unperturbed by the interruption. "The planet was under attack by a geth fleet, including three dreadnoughts."

And there was the third worst thing about the attack – its perpetrators. Since winning their rebellion, the machine race of geth had been content to stay in its newly-won space and taking potshots at any ship that got too close was the extent of their aggression. Taking a fleet out to bomb a Citadel-aligned planet was something very different.

The humans were demanding action, obviously. But other races were likewise concerned. Less than a hundred people in the galaxy knew about the existence of the beacon and to everyone else the attack seemed unprovoked and random. Had the geth struck at a world near their borders, that would have been one thing. But an attack at an old human colony well away was much scarier. Everyone wanted the Council to do something, be it launch an investigation, sweep Citadel space for any unlicensed AI research, move a fleet onto the geth borders, or outright attack and hopefully destroy the machine race. The more cautious thinkers could see that starting a war over the possibility of another attack at some point somewhere wouldn't be wise, but they were being outshouted.

Still, three dreadnoughts. That was something to think about.

"We put up the stealth field immediately and debated leaving the system. Because of the beacon we chose to move in and landed near the research site. Nihilus insisted on moving ahead on his own to scout; I stayed behind to choose my party."

* * *

Shepard walked in front of the assembled soldiers, examining each one like they were dogs at a show. Her eyes flickered between the assembled infantrymen and the omnitool on her wrist. Like most human-made omnitools, it was a thick bracelet with a reassuring heft to it, not quite as bulky as the old Pip-boys, but clearly made with the same design aesthetic in mind.

"You," she finally settled on Kaidan, pointing at his nose, causing him to unconsciously cross his eyes. "You're a biotic _and_ a tech expert?"

"I...yes."

"And you," she said, staring up and up and up at Corporal Jenkins. "You're big."

"Most supermutants are," he hedged.

"Perfect. You two will come with me. The rest will hide."

"You sure?" Captain Anderson asked. "Seems like you're leaving yourself exposed with so few people."

"There is an army out here. They can kill ten or fifteen people easily. Three is enough."

The soldiers around her exchanged uncertain glances, but no one dared to outright contradict her.

"What are we looking for, anyway?" asked Jenkins.

"Obelisk," answered Shepard.

"Oh. What's _that_ look like?"

"Tall. Pointy." Shepard paused and uncertainly added "Eldritch?"

At this moment she was spared further explanations when two geth drones, each one about the size of a standard Eyebot, floated up and opened fire on Jenkins. The first sent out a laser beam that drew an angry red line through Jenkins, totally ignoring the Mass Effect shield. The armor's ablative layer hissed and bubbled out, running the look of the armor but saving Jenkins from being cut in half. He brought up his own gun only to find that the laser had sliced through that too. At this point the second drone shot out a missile which blew through Jenkins's still-intact shield with concussive force and sent him flying even as it deposited white-hot shrapnel throughout his body.

By this time the other two soldiers were getting in on the action. Kaidan threw his arm out and the one of the drones was enveloped by dark energy. It frantically fired its thrusters to try and correct course, but that just made things worse. Driven by the biotic attack, the drone spun out and crashed into the ground with an explosion.

Shepard popped out from behind cover and let out three pistol shots in quick succession. The first hit the drone's shield and bounced off. The second spent its momentum popping the shield. The final bullet hit the drone's electronic eye and emerged from the other side, having irreparably damaged its electronics.

By the time the drones finished falling, Shepard and Alenko were leaning over Jenkins's blood-splattered body.

"I wish that hadn't happened," noted Shepard.

"No kidding. You think he's dead?"

"Maybe. Supermutants can take a lot of damage, but if one falls it usually means he's down. The others will drag him to the ship and treat him. We will move on."

"Are we going to be getting a new third?"

"No. No one else was big enough."

At this point Kaidan was seriously starting to wonder about Shepard. Hero or not, the woman was distinctly odd.

"I'm not that big myself," he offered.

"You don't need to be big. You can hack, and I can't. You can be biotic, and I can't. He could carry a gun that was equivalent to light artillery and now nobody can."

"Oh," comprehension dawned on Kaidan. "You know, we have other heavy weapons guys."

"Not heavy enough."

With Shepard's selection criteria adequately explored, Kaidan moved forward, carefully watching the area for any more hidden geth.

"You can't hack?" he asked.

"I can reroute physical wires, a little. If I need to get through a software block, I usually find someone who knows the password and threaten to shoot them."

"I always thought Couriers had to be the best at everything."

"Not exactly. We need to be able to do anything. In training they gave us goals, but we could learn to accomplish them in any way we chose. If you met the goal, you passed."

"I'm guessing Couriers don't end up being too choosy about their methods, then?"

Shepard stopped in her tracks.

"Are you implying something?"

"Not about you," Kaidan physically backed up a step. "Sorry if it sounded personal. I've just had bad experiences with the Whatever Works school of thought."

"I see," Shepard slowly blinked. "Tell me about it at Sharing Time."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

For an answer Shepard suddenly whipped out her guns and fired the one in her left hand over Kaidan's shoulder. He turned around to see the electric pulse strike a previously invisible humanoid machine. It was huge, easily a head taller than Kaidan himself, and carrying a nasty-looking shotgun. It was also shaking and sparking lightly, as Shepard's Pulse Pistol was playing havoc with its electronics. Shepard's other gun immediately deposited several bullets into the geth's chassis.

"How…?" asked Kaidan, subtly pointing with his chin.

"You need to know how to see bent light. There is an outline. But that gives me an idea."

Shepard pulled something out of her backpack and gently tossed it underhand to Kaidan. He found himself holding a Stealth Boy.

"The ship should have given me the idea. Too much on my mind. Let's go flip the script on them."

* * *

A small group of geth was milling about the archeological dig site, drones flying overhead. The area was currently clear of humans, though it did have a number of dead bodies. Still, the platforms were alert for any sign of the intruders.

The first sign they got was a grenade bouncing into the middle of the largest group. The second was two intruders decloaking to unleash a barrage of bullets and biotics against the drones and ducking behind low stone barriers. More than half of the on-site geth and all but one of the drones were gone in only a few seconds.

They tried to regroup, of course. One of the platforms leapt into the sky, aiming to land behind the intruders. At its maximum point of ascent the geth suddenly jerked and died. A second later the remaining drone exploded into fragments.

"I'm not doing that," noted Shepard as the remaining geth poured on suppressive fire, staying low to the ground.

"That looked like sniper fire to me," answered Kaidan. "I'm guessing someone from the garrison survived."

"Good for them."

There were three geth platforms remaining. Two of them were keeping the barrier under fire while the remaining one tried to edge around it to flank. Shepard responded to the situation by tumbling out of cover and placing the would-be flanker between herself and its comrades. The geth fired on her but her shield withstood the hit as she fired back. The two geth at the back were distracted by Shepard and while they were trying to find a way to fire at her without hitting one of their own, Kaidan popped from cover and biotically slammed one of them into the other before unloading his rifle at the tangled pile.

Having won her shootout, Shepard bent down to examine the geth weapon. Kaidan supposed the weapons had some scientific value, especially since the geth seemed to like energy weapons. When humans first made contact with the galactic community, their unusual arsenal caused a minor revolution in the art of war. If geth had any new insights, it could cause more of the same.

A woman dressed in a mud-colored uniform and a wide-brimmed hat that covered her face approached. Kaidan looked up and kept his eye on her. Shepard did not. The new arrival raised her hand to the brim of her hat in a semi-formal salutation.

"Hi. I'm Ranger Ashley Williams. Who are you two?"

"We're on a special mission," answered Shepard, pocketing something.

"I'm guessing you were our friendly sniper?" asked Kaidan.

"Yeah, that was me. I've been trying to get at this group for two hours, but there were just too many of them. I couldn't believe it when you two came along. Must be one _really_ special mission to walk into the middle of all this."

"It is," answered Shepard. "What _is_ all this? What's the situation?"

"The situation's a nightmare. The fleet came out of nowhere. They jammed our distress calls. I hope you got one off?" she asked, and continued once the others nodded. "The garrison was overwhelmed. The rangers are doing better, but only just. They've been sending out groups to pick us off one by one. I don't know how many of my unit are still alive. Worst of all, they can go anywhere they want because the Archimedes system didn't go off."

Ashley stared at the horizon in accusation and the others followed her gaze, just seeing the top of a slim metal tower.

"They must have hacked the tower," opined Kaidan. "Still, if it were me, I would have put a few cannon rounds in it afterward, just to be sure."

"So would I. Geth must think differently," answered Shepard. "If we took the tower, could you get it to fire?"

"I'm guessing the geth would jam any electronic signal. But if I could reboot the system from analog and turn on optical targeting, I could set it to kill anything in the sky, friend or foe."

"Not a lot of friends up in _those_ skies," Ashley remarked morosely, staring at a geth vehicle making its way through the clouds. "Not now."

"All right," Shepard nodded. "We're making a detour."

* * *

"Watch the ceilings. Some of those things can jump and cling," instructed Ashley as the group crept toward the tower.

"They're really more people than things," Shepard corrected her.

"Is this really the time for that debate?"

"If you think of them as objects or animals, it's easy to think they're stupid. But they build space ships, so they're smart. They'll fight like people, not like turrets."

"Okay, fair."

Ashley leaned down to view the tower's entrance through the scope of her gun.

"I don't see any geth," she noted after a couple seconds' observation.

"They probably don't think anyone's going to try and retake the tower," said Kaidan. "If they did, they'd destroy it for sure, different thought patterns or no."

"Which means a token force in and around the tower and then every geth in the area rushes us when we activate it," Shepard summed up.

"And I'll be too busy getting the tower up and running to help defend it," added Kaidan.

The women just nodded, Ashley grimly and Shepard enigmatically.

"Just for the record, it's not too late to back out. We could leave the tower be, catch that train, and go after our primary objective."

"No," answered Shepard. "This is a good plan. We'll just need to make it work."

She hefted her gun as the others did the same.

"Charge on my mark. Ready? Charge!"

They charged.

* * *

"We killed a few geth inside the tower. They _were_ on ceilings, but it wasn't a problem. Kaidan got to work on the tower while Ashley and I prepared to defend the entrance."

"The geth had to be there in overwhelming numbers. How did you manage it?"

"It wasn't easy. But we had a solid plan. Here is what it was…"

* * *

Shepard walked outside the tower's entrance and leaned down to place an object on the ground. She took two steps and put down another one.

"What is that?" asked Ashley, peeking out from behind cover.

"Mines. And something else."

"That's great. When you're done, come back inside and we'll set up a defensive position."

But Shepard just shook her head.

"Stay inside and shoot anything that tries to come in," she ordered. "I'll fight out here."

"That's crazy!" objected Ashley.

"There could be dozens of geth here. If we let them come at us together, we'll lose even if we have a good position. Out here I can keep them from bunching up."

"They'll overwhelm you!"

"Not if I'm faster than them."

"But you're not."

"Am so."

The geth came out of the nearby woods by twos and by threes. Most were bog standard platforms, armed with kinetic weaponry. Some were large, equipped with reinforced shields and plasma shotguns. A few were carrying rocket launchers. Against them stood two women – Ashley, crouching behind the impromptu minefield with her sniper rifle, and Shepard, standing a step away from a metal wall with her guns pointed at the enemy. It didn't look like a fair fight.

And yet, somehow, it was. Shepard seemed able to predict every move the enemy made. Each time her shield was about to go down, she was just able to dive into cover as it broke. Each time an energy weapon was fired at her, she managed to present an unscorched part of her armor to it. Each time a rocket trooper was about to fire, there was another geth between it and Shepard. When the geth spread out, she picked them out one by one. When they bunched up, she threw grenades. All the while Ashley was taking down geth after geth, furiously calculating shot angles and weighing the likelihood of landing a kill shot against the potential target's value.

But finally it seemed to be all over. With dozens of geth laying broken on the battlefield, a small group was still standing. Shepard was all out of grenades and though she was only a couple steps away from cover, they had enough power to overwhelm her.

Without missing a step in her dance, Shepard tapped the underside of her wrist. And behind the geth an Alliance Eyebot sprang to life. It didn't even finish floating to its normal cruising altitude of human eye height before opening up with its built-in laser.

It managed to fire precisely three shots. The first pierced a standard platform, sending it to the scrapyard in the sky. The second hit one of the large, reinforced units in the chest, doing some damage but not enough to down it. The third one took the same platform in the head, melting the optics. At this point the Eyebot began to spin and smoke as the geth unleashed a variety of anti-machine attacks against it.

Still, it accomplished Shepard's goal. She retreated another step and tumbled as her shield broke, crouching behind the corner of a building. One of the large geth fired straight through the corner, but though it made a large hole, Shepard wasn't hit. Five geth moved toward Shepard together while three more ran toward the tower's entrance.

At this moment the Archimedes system bloomed into life. The tower unleashed the power of the sun against everything in the sky in the form of dozens of white energy beams per second, turning the incoming geth reinforcements and fighters into molten slag.

The geth ran inside. The first of them died to a shot from Ashley's derringer-type pistol, deliberately set to unleash all its power in one shot even if that meant instantly overheating. The second geth raised its rifle and pressed the trigger, only to find that its weapon was overheated too. It glanced up in confusion as Kaidan emerged from the tower's machinery, spraying it with bullets. The remaining geth desperately tried to kill the humans, but with two against one it was outmatched and went down before inflicting a wound.

In the meantime outside the tower the geth hunting party rounded the corner only to find Shepard gone. They fired wildly at thin air, perhaps suspecting stealth. They were right to do so, but wrong in their approach; as an electric pulse followed by several bullets hit the remaining large platform, the remaining ones turned their heads upward to find Shepard firing from the room of the one-story building.

She ducked and rolled, avoiding their shots. One of the geth threw a grenade. She slid off the roof on a different side of the building and dispatched a geth as it rounded the corner. She flipped to the side as the next one came out firing, took it down before it could take her down, then ran for it as the remaining two emerged. Their shots got through her shields but not her armor as she dove behind yet another building. One of the geth climbed onto the roof. The other rounded the corner. Shepard was right around that corner, so close that she was now inside the geth's shield. She fired as it vainly tried to club her with its rifle, turned around as her own shield came back up, and killed the last of the enemies.

Panting with exhaustion, she walked toward Kaidan and Ashley as they emerged from the doorway.

"Kaidan! Let's play good news, bad news."

"Wait, what?"

"The tower is up and running. It will keep the geth from sending in more reinforcements or bombing the town from orbit," summarized Shepard.

"Good news?" Kaidan tried to guess the rules of the game. Seeing Shepard's encouraging nod, he relaxed slightly.

"I'm out of grenades, out of Stealth Boys, out of Eyebots, and almost out of batteries for my Pulse Pistol," Shepard continued.

"Bad news."

"If most of the geth in the area ran here, the train station is going to be lightly guarded."

"Good news."

"The artifact won't be."

"Bad news."

"I'll be relying on the two of you."

"Um…"

"Good news!" Ashley cut in. Shepard gave her an approving grin.

"Let's hope so."

They walked toward the spaceport, alert for any geth stragglers. But none emerged. The soldiers were able to catch their breaths and absolutely nothing bad happened until they reached a loading dock just before the train station where Shepard suddenly stopped and muttered a small "Oh."

"What is it?" asked Ashley, before following Shepard's line of sight. It ended at Nihilus's body, half melted by plasma.

"Bad news," summarized Kaidan.

* * *

"That was in poor taste," noted Sparatus.

"Humor helps to stay alert in combat situations," objected Shepard. "I take responsibility but Nihilus would have understood."

"I'm sure," Councilor Tevos attempted to defuse the tension. "Are you positive the body belonged to Nihilus?"

"The head was melted, but the armor was the same. Seems probable."

"How do you think he died?" asked Sparatus.

"Impossible to know. Geth ambush?"

"Nihilus was too good to fall for that."

"He might have tried to save some civilians," suggested Kaidan. "There were other bodies on that dock."

"Possible," acknowledged Sparatus. "You had no other clues about his death?"

"None at all," muttered Shepard, staring at the back of her hand.

* * *

"I'm guessing there'll be a welcoming party at the next station," said Kaidan. "I mean, I don't know a lot about geth, but it would be weird if they _didn't_ have some way of remotely communicating. I'm sure one of them radioed ahead.

"That's okay," answered Shepard. "Trains are fun to fight through."

"Until the geth overwhelm us, you mean."

"They can't. That's what's fun about trains. They're narrow and there's cover everywhere. We can kill an army in here."

"That's good, because at the rate this is going, we'll have to."

There was a thump above them.

"Called it," declared Kaidan, firing through the roof.

Within a few minutes there were geth everywhere: hanging from the top of the train, crouching behind the benches, or standing out on the platform to fire inside. And within a few more minutes there were no more geth left, and the party stumbled out the doors walking over a mechanical corpse.

"Called it," declared Shepard in mockery of Kaidan's tone.

"Don't start celebrating just yet," warned Ashley. "If it were me, I'd save the worst for last."

"Me too," agreed Kaidan. "What do you think it'll be? Some more of the rocket drones? The big, invisible guys?"

"No," Shepard answered him. "Something worse."

The three of them were looking at the heavy doors to the final dock, which would contain the Prothean artifact. It had taken a long time, but they were almost at their goal.

And standing in front of those doors were two geth Colossi, each one as large as a tank and armored like one, with enormous cannons down their fronts.

Shepard looked at her gun and back at the massive enemies and muttered "I wish Jenkins were here."

* * *

"See, my first instinct would be to run up to one of them, get on top of it, trick the other into shooting it, then jump off at the last possible second," remarked Shepard. "But I don't know how we'd deal with the other one."

"Also they'll fight like people and not like turrets," Ashley reminded her.

"Also that, yes."

"Could we maybe blind them?" offered Kaidan. "There's sand here, right? If we could just get enough of it into the air…"

"And if we could get enough gas bags to rub up against them, we could just burn them to death," interrupted Ashley. "Keep it reasonable."

"We could ram them with a car," suggested Shepard.

"No good. They'd blow it up before it got close."

"Three cars? Maybe more. Kaidan could rig up something to keep them going straight. If we lined up enough, some would get through."

"Too many variables. Keep it simple, people."

"I see. Your turn, then," said Shepard. "Come up with a plan."

"You know what? Fine. Give me a minute."

Ashley put on her planning face, sinking into her thoughts and giving a thousand yard stare. The Colossi waited quietly, content to attack once the organics left cover but not to leave their positions with beautiful firing lines to walk into a possible ambush.

"Okay, I got it!" Ashley finally exclaimed. "Look, that crate right there. That would be this month's delivery of mining explosives."

"What do you even mine around here?" asked Shepard.

"So not the point! There's enough there to kill a dozen of those things, much less two."

"Mining explosives are stable, though," objected Kaidan. "That crate wouldn't explode even if you shot it a thousand times. You need a _detonation_."

"They are also powerful. You wouldn't need the whole crate. Two or three bricks each would do it," said Shepard.

"I take it _you_ have a plan now?" asked Kaidan.

"I do. In a minute you'll just grab some biotically. Synch the detonators to your omnitool and be ready to throw those."

"Do I want to know how you're planning to get the crate open?"

"Let me show you how."

Shepard drew here disabled Eyebot from her backpack and tossed it into the air. The Colossi moved slightly as they put their optics in a better position to observe it. When the drone failed to make an attack and dropped to the ground like so much dead metal, they decided not to go after it. At around the same point they reached that conclusion, Shepard jumped over the barrier and bolted across the open area.

The Colossi turned to follow her progress. One of them fired, aiming not for where she was but for where she would be. Or at least where would have been had she not suddenly stopped, letting the shot pass harmlessly by. The other Colossus waited, tracked her, and fired.

Shepard jumped.

She didn't leap out of the shot's way, not quite. But she managed to catch the edge of it so that instead of ripping through her it simply tossed her into the air like a rag doll. Only instead of landing like a rag doll Shepard twisted her body, tucked her legs into a somersault, and rolled behind the crates. Her teammates winced sympathetically. No matter how good her landing, that had to hurt.

Shepard's arm popped out from behind a crate. Not the explosives crate but a shipment of cloth, considerably bulkier and consequently better as shelter. A Colossus fired back, destroying the crate, filling the air with flying bits of burning cloth, and knocking everything loose with the blast wave.

The explosives crate, caught in the edge of the blast, teetered and fell over, spilling its cargo all over the ground. Kaidan obediently grabbed several of the explosive bricks with his biotics and pulled them to his position.

Shepard took advantage of the confusion to dive behind a metal separator that withstood the next Colossus's blast with considerably better grace.

"What now?" Kaidan half-yelled as he got to work on the detonators. "Do we just throw these?"

"Might as well!" answered Shepard. "I'd do something more dramatic but I either sprained or broke something."

Kaidan and Ashley did as ordered, tossing three of the bricks at a Colossus's feet. When Kaidan triggered the detonation, the blast ripped right through the thing's barriers and downed it.

The remaining Colossus was not content to wait for the same to happen to it. With speed unnatural for something that size, it skittered across the clear space and over the barrier protecting the humans. Kaidan and Ashley just barely dove out of the way of its sharp legs. As soon as both of them were clear, Kaidan activated the remaining detonators, but the positioning was off and when the blast cleared the Colossus was unshielded and on fire, but it was still standing. It whirled around and advanced on Kaidan, threatening to put a foot right through him.

Ashley desperately drew her derringer, lined up the shot and fired. The heavy attack hit one of the geth's leg joints and blew it straight off. The already-damaged geth teetered uncertainly on its remaining three limbs. Kaidan took advantage of the situation by hitting it with the strongest biotic push he could muster. The wounded giant collapsed and Kaidan and Ashley spent the next half a minute shooting its bulk just to be sure.

For the last ten seconds they were joined by Shepard. She was walking with a slight limp and had her lips pursed, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

Giddy with a sense of victory, the three soldiers walked onto the final dock triumphantly. But their triumph was short-lived. The beacon they'd come so far to find was gone.

* * *

"…the Colossi were most likely a decoy or a stalling tactic. Reports from the Maxson showed that the geth ships started pulling out while we were still on the train."

And that was the number one worst thing about the attack. The geth won. They killed Nihilus and despite Shepard's admittedly impressive performance they had the beacon. Sparatus didn't know what they were capable of doing with it, but their audacity in going after it suggested that it was something grand. Even worse, the fact that they knew to go after it in the first place suggested they either had spies in the highest echelons of the Alliance government, or those of the Council itself. There was a lot to feel bad about.

"Thank you for your account," Councilor Tevos was saying. "It will help us as we consider our next action. Have you anything else to add?"

"I think we need to prevent this from happening again," Shepard said very seriously, for once looking up at the Councilors.

"I agree," said Sparatus. Then, on a whim, he asked "How?"

"Help us secure Mars," suggested Shepard. "It's the biggest store of Prothean knowledge in human space. It would be very difficult the Alliance to secure it against a fleet that size and still take care of its other responsibilities."

Sparatus considered. It was an innocuous enough request. Sending a force to Sol wouldn't provoke a war in the way that stationing the same force at the border with the geth might. On the other hand, the Council races would need every ship they had to secure their own stores of Prothean artifacts. And more importantly, there was always the chance that they were totally misreading the geth plans and spreading out their forces in an effort to secure dozens of systems would turn out to be the exact wrong thing to do.

Still, it wasn't an irreversible action, and making the gesture could go a long way toward mollifying humanity once the Council refused their other demands, as it surely would have to pretty soon. Tevos would agree, he knew that much. As if on cue the two of them turned to look at Valern. After a moment's pause the salarian gave a small nod.

"Very well," Sparatus pronounced, with all the dignity of his office on his sleeve. "We'll contact your embassy shortly with the details."

Perhaps even Shepard couldn't lose them all.


	2. Chapter 2

The Citadel. Eternal. Unchanging. The center of the galaxy. For tens of thousands of years members of an ever-increasing number of species journeyed to the seat of the galactic government to marvel at the scale and intricacy of Citadel's architecture and the vibrancy and diversity of its culture.

"This place is _weird_. I can't tell the aliens from the animals."

"Really."

Ashley looked up to see Shepard giving her a withering glare.

"Hey! No need for that. All I'm saying is that if we end up asking someone's pet for directions, it's going to be really embarrassing."

"Oh," Shepard's expression instantly softened. "If that happens, you have to tell the alien about talking dogs and then walk away quickly."

"I'll keep that in mind. Where do we go now?"

"Well, sooner or later I need to report to the Ambassador. Until then I go where I want and the two of you also go where I want."

"Okay. Sure. Where do you want to go?

"The Presidium for now, I think," answered Shepard. "It's a closed loop so I can't get very lost."

"Is that a big concern?" asked Kaidan.

"Yes," answered Shepard bluntly.

Ashley Williams watched Shepard intently as she tried to figure her out.

Everyone knew Shepard, of course. The Hero of Dust Bowl. The poster girl for the Alliance military. Literally so – when a war is dramatically won by a girl with the skin of a porcelain doll and the eyes of a golden retriever, military photographers tend to take note.

But none of the vids or brief biographies disseminated by the Alliance came close to preparing her for what Shepard was actually _like_. Not the way she switched between ignoring the people around her and staring at them unblinkingly while she questioned them on anything and everything. Not the way she wove through heavy traffic, making tight little 360 degree turns to avoid bumping into someone by mere millimeters. Certainly not for the way she fought.

"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Ashley asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I heard there are fish in these lakes. I always wanted a fish."

"You know you can just buy a fish at the souvenir shop, right?" asked Kaidan.

"I'm not sure. That feels less special. Maybe I could get a model ship instead?"

"Maybe a snow globe?" suggested Ashley.

"Please don't mock my religion."

"Your religion is…snow globes?"

"No. Well, it's like…do you know why my group is called Couriers?" asked Shepard, visibly agitated.

"Yeah, sure. There was an original Courier who used to actually deliver packages. He became a warrior for the New California Republic and killed Caesar. Are you telling me you worship him?"

"Sort of. I belong to the Cult of the Vault Dweller."

"Cult?" asked Ashley, eyebrow held high.

"We don't kid ourselves. We believe that destiny sometimes chooses special people to be heroes. The Vault Dweller, who saved Shady Sands and stopped The Master's army. The Chosen One, who saved the world from the Enclave. The Courier, who defeated Caesar and broke the Legion at Hoover Dam. The Bombardier, who unified the East and West Coasts. Those are the Orthodox ones, but there are more in the Reform and International branches."

"And you worship these people?" asked Kaidan.

"The Messiahs of the Wasteland aren't gods. They're chosen, that's all. We don't worship them. We try to emulate them. Learn parables about their lives. Apply them to ours."

Shepard stared at her subordinates with widened eyes.

"Is that crazy? I don't think it's crazy. We know those people existed and we know what they did and that what they did worked really well, for them and for everyone else. Who else can say that about their religion?"

"And how do snow globes fit into all this?" asked Ashley.

"It's a long story," Shepard waved a hand. "I'm done with my part of Sharing Time. Kaidan, your turn."

"Wait, what now?"

"I remember. You had something to say about goals and methods. Tell me about it."

"Now? Listen, Shepard, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"I'm a Courier. Tell me or I'll just look through your personnel file."

"Well, if you put it that way. You know how I'm a biotic?"

"Were you in the official program or something private?" interrupted Shepard.

"Um, official."

"Okay. I understand now," Shepard nodded.

"Really," Kaidan frowned skeptically. "That was all you needed?"

"I know about the treatment of biotics. People got power who shouldn't have. They ran too much with too little oversight. I was friends with someone from a private program once, so I know how bad it can get."

"If half the stuff I've heard is true, your friend probably had it _way_ rougher than I did," said Kaidan. "Still not sure you can know my story just from that, though."

"I'll ask you another time, then. Now, Ashley. Your turn. What makes you tick?"

"Um…my grandfather ran the horizon at Heavenly Palace. Once the turians blew our fleet to bits, he surrendered. The rangers kept fighting long enough for the asari to intervene. So I became a ranger."

"Makes sense," nodded Shepard.

"And no offense, but that was kind of personal. "

"That's the point of Sharing Time," said Shepard. "Everyone shares something personal and the group grows stronger."

"Well, I'm not a fan of being coerced into it."

"Me neither," offered Kaidan. "Next time maybe wait until your subordinates are ready to talk on their own?"

"Fine," answered Shepard, looking and sounding like a petulant child. "You know what? We're done here. Let's go see Ambassador Udina."

"Yeah," answered Ashley. "Let's."

* * *

The fact that Earth had an embassy of its own, right next door to the one the volus had to share with the elcor, was a major point of pride for the humans. Of course Ambassador Udina knew better. The Council didn't give the embassy to the humans as a symbol of prestige – they gave it to them because they anticipated a lot of trouble in the humans' future, requiring many tense and private talks.

Either way, Udina was glad other species couldn't see Shepard walk around his office carefully staring at her finger as it traced along the wall.

"Something you find interesting?" he asked.

"Why is the Citadel like a Vault?" asked Shepard very seriously.

"Well, Vaults were built to hold people for a long time, right?" suggested Ashley, "This place is built to hold people for a long time too. The whole Citadel's just one big structure..."

"Because it's ajar," Shepard contradicted Ashley.

"Okay, you might have to explain that one to me."

"It's open, but it can be closed. If you couldn't get it open again, you'd be stuck with dwindling food supplies and people who don't look like people."

Shepard turned and traced her finger along the wall again.

"Rounded corners aren't an accident. Straight corners are easier to make but rounded corners make people calm. It's a way for the architect to control your mind. Vaults controlled minds. Vaults also drove people crazy."

"Yeah, I had the same thought when I first came here," Udina chimed in. "A lot of people did. I've got people looking into it, but it's a long process."

"Should we be worried?" asked Kaidan.

"Kind of. But nothing's happened for thousands of years, so either the Citadel's just like one of the _good_ Vaults or the experiment hasn't started yet. Either way, it's unlikely to be _your_ problem."

"Everything's _my_ problem," answered Shepard.

"Yeah, about that. First of all, good job on the deposition. You made us look good despite this whole disaster. Not sure if I would have asked them to protect Mars – I don't think the geth are going to go after the Solar system. But it's nice to have the Council acknowledge the problem exists. Gives me leverage to push them to be more proactive."

Shepard shrugged noncommittally. By now she'd exhausted her interest in the wall and was looking at Udina's desk. Even though she appeared to be focused on the texture of the top more than anything else, Udina placed a blank document over the top of any sensitive items on his screen and hoped she wouldn't notice the shotgun taped to the underside.

"Anyway, seeing how you'll be stuck on the Citadel for a few more days, I was hoping you'd do me a favor. One of my assistants has been taking mentats to get an edge in negotiations and he's become addicted. I've sent him down to a Wards clinic for detox and now Citadel Security is sniffing around him. There is a chance he did something stupid. If so, I want you to help make it go away quietly."

"How?" asked Shepard.

"Use your discretion, but don't break more laws solving the problem than he did creating it. If worst comes to worst, I can cut ties with Keeler. You're more valuable."

If Shepard's had objections to Udina's cold calculus, she didn't voice them. Instead she just quietly wandered out without saying goodbye, forcing her subordinates to trot to catch up.

* * *

The Presidium was what one might call "tranquil." It was designed that way. The placid pools and the constantly bending walls broke up crowds, the coffee shops and the electronic libraries kept workaholics sitting quietly inside, and the geometric layout meant you were always looking at _something_ impressive or famous. The overall effect was one of quiet dignity, occasionally interspersed with outright boredom.

The Wards had a totally different energy. If the Presidium was a place of diplomacy, the Wards were a place of commerce. The crowds hummed and buzzed as they made their way to night clubs, movie theaters, and fancy restaurants, assaulted by personalized advertisements from every direction. Even the music they played in the streets was up-tempo, encouraging slow walkers to hurry it along and keep the flow of commerce going.

Shepard didn't seem to get the message. She ambled along at her own pace, ignoring the disruptions she caused and effortlessly dodging stumblers. She was much too busy drinking in the sights to bother hurrying.

"Shepard! It really is you!"

Responding to the call, Shepard slowed and then stopped entirely, noting a blonde man calling her name and waving excitedly. She walked toward him, mercifully leaving the normal foot traffic path for a side area designed specifically to catch those walkers who needed to talk, check their omnitools, or just catch their breath.

"It's an honor to meet you!" the blond man kept babbling on as Shepard approached him. "My name is Conrad. Conrad Verner."

"You already know mine," she pointed out quite reasonably.

"Sure do! I have all your vids. I've been a fan of yours for a long time but after Eden Prime I just knew I had to try and meet you. Is it true that you single-handedly repelled the geth attack?" he asked, his eyes glowing like hot coals.

"I landed on the planet and started killing geth. Eventually they packed up and left," answered Shepard, never outright stating that there was a causal relationship between the two.

"I knew it! You're amazing! Hey, if you've got a second, would you mind giving me your autograph?"

Shepard answered by taking up the pen and pad Conrad held out and signing her name. As she handed them back, Conrad allowed his hands to linger over hers a little longer than was strictly necessary.

"Thanks so much," he said, beaming.

Shepard quietly nodded, either to his words or to something going on in her own head. She didn't seem to sense her teammates' discomfort or be eager to move on. Perhaps encouraged by this Conrad kept talking.

"Listen, I have to ask: could _I_ do what you do? I mean, obviously not as well," Conrad made a weird face. "But you're just such an inspiration, you know? I just want to be like you."

"Why not?" Shepard shrugged.

"Seriously? You think I have what it takes?"

"I don't know. Nobody does. I joined the army because they offered to pay for college. I transferred to the Alliance military for the benefits and the chance to see space. I enrolled in the Courier program because it was a good fit. And I've been me ever since."

"Wow! I just…thank you. Thanks a lot."

"You are very welcome."

Shepard's party walked on, the sound of Conrad's continuing accolades slowly fading into the distance.

"Huh," said Ashley.

"What?" asked Shepard.

"No, it's nothing. It's just I always thought you'd have more of a problem with all this – the fans, the attention, even the autographs. Doesn't it get tiring?"

"Most people I meet try to kill me," answered Shepard calmly. "The ones who love me? Who want to talk to me, to get something to remember meeting me? I don't hate that."

"And you really think that Verner guy should try being a soldier? Because I give him about three hours before he quits."

"I never said he should. Only that he could. Anyone can try."

"I just feel like you might have done better to discourage him at least a little."

"Meh," answered Shepard, shrugging.

"Fair enough."

Finding the clinic door, Shepard activated the opening mechanism and walked in to find a salarian pointing a pistol at a human woman dressed in a doctor's white coat as a turian crouched behind an operating table pointing a sniper rifle at the salarian.

"Drop the gun!" demanded the salarian.

"If I do that, you'll shoot me and then you'll probably shoot the nice doctor _anyway_," answered the turian. "How about you drop _your_ gun?"

"If you think…hey, who are you?!" he demanded, noticing Shepard's group.

"You first," answered Shepard.

"No! I'm the one who has a gun and a hostage. I make the rules here."

"I have a gun too," said Shepard, pulling out one of her pistols to show him.

"Hey, stop that! Drop your gun or I'll shoot her! I mean it!"

"No. You drop _your_ gun or I'll shoot this turian!" Shepard declared, pointing her weapon at the other armed man.

"Wait, what?"

"I agree – what?" asked the turian.

"And these two!" Shepard whipped out her other gun to point it at Kaidan and Ashley. "I'll shoot, I swear!"

"You're crazy!" declared the salarian. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

At this moment the turian put a hole in his head. The salarian's body jerked and slumped against the wall.

"I'm very disappointed in you Kaidan," said Shepard with a frown on her face.

"Me? What did _I_ do?"

"Nothing. That's why. I expected you to use your biotics to knock him into the wall or at least to make his gun overhead while I was distracting him."

"Well, how about giving me a little heads-up next time? Or am I just supposed to know I'm supposed to do something whenever you act crazy?"

"_He_ knew it," Shepard pointed her chin at the turian.

"Actually I was considering doing that anyway," he admitted. "I just figured you were either giving me an opportunity or I'd need to shoot _you_ next. Glad it was the former, let me tell you."

"Me too. I've been shot before, it's not fun. What's going on here, anyway?"

"I guess I might as well tell you. Name's Garrus, by the way," he said, offering his hand. "Garrus Vakarian."

"Zetta Shepard," answered Shepard, reaching out to shake it.

* * *

"Listen, I appreciate the assist, but I really can't share the details of an ongoing investigation," admitted Garrus. "Basically, I was here to interview a suspect. He was here to tell the suspect what to say. I happened to catch an early transport, and he panicked and tried to take Dr. Michel hostage. That's basically it."

"And you _both_ were out of luck. See?" asked Dr. Michel, pointing at a young man sleeping in a hospital bed, sweat gathered on his face. "Mr. Keeler will be out of it for the rest of the day while his system gets purged and normal brain chemistry is restored. And even if I woke him up before that, he'd be suffering from severe mentat withdrawal. We'd be lucky if her remembered his own name, much less anything useful."

"Let me guess," said Garrus. "He's been taking more than he should legally have been able to."

"Three times at least," acknowledged Dr. Michel. "If I can concentrate on monitoring his vitals without more people pointing guns at me, I _may_ be able to keep him from suffering permanent brain damage."

"This is going to cause _such_ a diplomatic incident," muttered Shepard.

Garrus's face instinctively twitched in pain as he turned to look at her.

"Why?" he asked, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

"The human Ambassador sent me to keep him out of trouble. This," she pointed at the corpse of the salarian, still clutching the gun, "looks like trouble to me."

"Ah, crap. Listen, your guy isn't in trouble from _me_. I was just going to lean on him a little to find his supplier."

"I get that mentats are restricted," Ashley interrupted. "But couldn't he just get more by having someone else take out a month's allowance and sell _that_ to him?"

"I'm guessing that's what he thought he _was_ doing," answered Garrus. "But there are some numbers that don't add up. I think someone's been manufacturing their own mentats. And a couple days ago a turian general keeled over with a massive brain aneurism – something that would happen to a turian if he ate a mentat and didn't throw up from the taste. I figure chances are the two have _something_ to do with each other."

"Sending in a gunman is pretty extreme for a quasi-illegal drug-smuggling operation," opined Kaidan. "But it _would_ be proportionate to covering up a murder."

"Okay, we're in," said Shepard.

"Wait, what now?" asked Garrus.

"If we get the bad guys, there won't be anyone left to hire hit men and Citadel Security won't have a reason to go after him either," Shepard pointed at the patient in case it wasn't clear who she was talking about. "We're in."

"You think I can just bring in some people I met in a firefight to help me finish the case? That's not the way it works.

"In my experience it _is_."

"Okay, maybe it is," acknowledged Garrus. "Just promise me you won't point a gun at me again?"

"I can't make that promise," Shepard shook her head solemnly.

"Fantastic. Well, I might have to reevaluate my life choices later, but you're in. How do you suggest we handle this?"

"I propose we wander around until we run into something relevant and go on from there."

Everyone stared at Shepard, trying to decide if she was serious.

"You know there are millions of people on the Citadel, right?" asked Garrus.

"There are more than a billion people on Earth, but I usually found what I was looking for."

"Well, we're going to try my way instead, okay? Here, let me show you."

Garrus approached the fallen body.

"This guy wasn't a professional. He panicked too easily. That means that he's either one of the people we're after or he knows them. It also means he probably didn't bother concealing his identity that hard."

Garrus picked up the dead salarian's omnitool.

"I'll need to have someone look at this back at the station."

"Gimme," said Kaidan, extending his hands as if to cup something. Garrus shrugged and tossed him the omnitool, before using his own to scan the weapon.

"The gun isn't registered," said Garrus. "Not surprising. We've been dealing with weapons smugglers in the Lower Wards and the big bust isn't until next week."

"Okay, I'm in the system. I'm going to crack his account open," Kaidan called over. "I assume you can trace him and his friends from their online data?"

"Sure. This ID he still has on him might help too."

"You have any idea what's going on?" asked Ashley, looking over at Shepard.

"Investigation," Shepard answered sagely.

"Well, _obviously_. I meant, does it seem to you like this is getting solved pretty quickly?"

"I have those two following me around for a reason, Ashley," Shepard beamed.

"Garrus isn't really following you around."

"He is. He just doesn't know it yet."

"…and the shell company owns a residential unit within four blocks of all their residences!" Kaidan finished up, beaming with excitement.

"And I'm guessing the longer this guy doesn't come back, the more likely they are to bolt," continued Garrus. "We need to go get them right now."

"Are you coming, then?" asked Shepard, already standing in the doorway.

Garrus harrumphed as he started running towards the Transit System.

"What did you think of that, Shepard? Would wandering around at random have let us find this place?"

"Probably," answered Shepard, shrugging.

* * *

When people heard about the Presidium and the Wards, many assumed that the entire Wards were one big slum. The truth was much more complicated. "Wards" was just a catch-all term for everything that wasn't the Presidium. It included multi-story malls, luxury housing, arcades, and night clubs. It also included giant expanses of warehouses, only a small percentage of which were dedicated meeting places for criminals. No single area of the Wards had a monopoly on crime or squalor. Still, if one absolutely had to make an educated guess, the Lower Wards were a statistically likelier place to find something shady. They had fewer store fronts and more kiosks, fewer holographic panels and more walls of battleship blue, fewer suites and more apartment blocks. Still, most people followed the letter of the law.

As a consequence, they didn't usually have their doors kicked in. The group of a krogan, two turians, and a salarian bumbling about trying to gather up beakers and suspicious powders didn't have such luck.

The krogan stared at the invaders with something between rage and disappointment as he hefted his massive shotgun. Then he turned it on one of the turians and pulled the trigger.

"This is all your fault!" he roared. "This is what happens when you do something without asking me. I _told_ you this is how you get C-SEC!"

The other turian and the salarian cowered but the krogan already turned toward the group and charged them, all rational thought lost to the bloodrage. Specifically, he charged Shepard.

The Courier didn't even move. She just pulled out one of her guns, held it with both hands for balance, and fired it, again and again. The krogan's shield collapsed five steps away from Shepard. Two steps away the bullets started seriously interfering with his running. One step away he stopped moving his legs and ponderously collapsed to his knees, bringing himself to Shepard's eye level. Shepard half-closed her eyes and moved her chin up and down as if mentally counting. And the moment the krogan's redundant nervous system kicked in and his pupils dilated, she started shooting again and didn't stop until her gun overheated.

The remaining turian raised his gun with shaky hands.

"Are you tougher than a krogan?" asked Shepard, staring straight at him. "Apparently _I_ am."

The turian dropped the gun and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Obviously, you're both under arrest," said Garrus. "The drug charges are staying no matter what, but you might be able to talk your way out of murder charges if you talk fast."

"I can talk fast!" the salarian broke in, sounding like a fast-forwarded recording. "I'll talk as fast as you want me to. Please don't kill us please."

"Talk about the murder," suggested Garrus. "Who paid you to kill Septimus?"

"We didn't we never killed anyone. We just made a special batch of mentats without any flavor. An asari told us to do it and paid us afterward. Um. She had high cheek bones and her tentacles were farther apart than most asari but not super far apart. Her eyes were I don't remember but she had a kind of rounded chin and she was wearing a ring on her left pinkie with a red stone. Please don't kill us."

"I see," said Garrus. "Anything else?"

For the first time, the turian spoke up.

"Yeah. There's one more thing. When we gave her the pills, she said the Consort would be grateful."

* * *

"Yeah, no. I don't buy it," said Garrus.

"Not lying!" squeaked the salarian.

"_You_ might not be. Her? Namedropping the Consort is how asari girls return appliances when they've lost the receipt. If she actually _was_ working for the Consort, she definitely wouldn't bring it up."

"Unless that's what she wants you to think," Shepard helpfully pointed out.

"A double bluff? Too complicated. Too much risk, no real gain compared to not just bringing it up in the first place."

"Okay," said Ashley. "If you're sure then we have two options. Either we go to the Consort and ask her if there's an asari that might want to frame her for murder," she paused for a collective snort of amusement, "or we find any asari Septimus was close to."

"Actually, that _would_ be the Consort," said Garrus, scrolling through his omnitool. "Apparently there was some complicated history between them. Probably why our mystery asari used her name."

"Anything else?" asked Shepard.

"Well, apparently in the weeks before his death Septimus spent most of his time at a club called The Den."

"Like the town!"

"If you say so. Anyway, it looks like the kind of place that would have asari dancers. We'll start there."

"_Fantastic_," muttered Ashley. "What about those two?"

Garrus held out his left hand and electrocuted the turian. The salarian cowered with his hands over his head for a few moments before he too went down.

"Someone will pick them up," said Garrus. "Let's go."

* * *

"This is my kind of place!" declared Kaidan, staring at the gyrating bodies.

"Don't get too comfortable," advised Shepard. "The original Den was called that because it was overrun with criminals before The Chosen One killed them all. There is an excellent chance that we'll have to kill everyone here."

Shepard turned around to glare at a young man who had clearly overheard her comment and was trying hard not to breathe.

"I mean it."

He ran for the door as the party walked in the opposite direction and towards a hulking supermutant standing next to a closed door leading to the offices.

"We're here to see…" Shepard had to glance down at her omnitool "…Fist. Don't tell us he's busy. Don't tell us he sees no one. We are very far above your pay grade."

" 'Kay," muttered the supermutant, opening the door. "Don't make trouble."

"Don't tell me what to do."

The supermutant stared at Shepard, then at the enormous baton at his side, then back at Shepard, then at the Gatling Laser on his back, then back at Shepard, and went back to leaning against the wall.

* * *

"Are you crazy?!"

Fist's greeting was absorbed by the soundproof walls of his office.

"Do you know what the Shadow Broker is going to do to me if he sees Alliance troops and C-SEC walking around this place? We have channels in place!"

"Shadow Broker?" asked Shepard, blinking the blink of incomprehension.

"And apparently you don't even know about _that_. This is just great!" Fist rumbled. "This is just my luck."

"You should tell me more about the Shadow Broker," said Shepard, pointing a gun at him.

"No I shouldn't," he answered, brushing the gun aside with one of his hands. "Find out from your own superiors if you have the rank. Now if you're _not_ here to pump me for information, what _are_ you here for?"

"We're here…to pump you for information," Garrus admitted. "It's about Septimus's murder."

"Who?"

"The turian general. He was a regular here."

"I wouldn't know. I don't go out front much. My business is back here."

"So if one of your girls happened to be involved in a murder…" Garrus said.

"…I would know about it because employees are different. You think I'm letting a murderer back here? _You're_ only here because I can have turrets drop down in literally one second."

"I have a Pulse Pistol and an Engineer," muttered Shepard.

"What's with the attitude?" asked Ashley.

"I've been in two firefights and it's not even lunchtime," answered Shepard, bristling. "I can't just turn it off."

"…and that's definitely not one of my girls," Fist was answering Garrus, staring at a holographic mockup produced by Garrus's omnitool.

"It's just a rough sketch," Garrus warned him.

"Yeah, I know. I can compensate for that. It's still not one of them. If you want I can call some of them back here, you can ask them if they've seen her yourself. I'd rather you didn't, though."

"I'm going to have to insist," said Garrus.

"Fine. Here's my employee roster. Go nuts."

For the next hour Garrus questioned the dancers and waitresses one by one. The others milled about in the warehouse area until Shepard eventually shrugged and walked back into the bar, followed by Kaidan. Ashley chose to stay with the boxes. Once in the public area, Shepard abandoned Kaidan to his own devices and eventually struck up a conversation with one of the performers who stopped dancing long enough to sit down and talk.

"…and in the story the hero gathers up companions with obscure powers like the power to drink a lot or to not get bitten by insects. Then the companions have to face a series of challenges that seem specifically designed to be defeated by their respective talents. It makes no sense, but it's really for little kids, you know? Anyway, the same story structure shows up in most species' mythos, but in our version of the story the central character gains his companions' powers for one final challenge that needs all their strengths put together to defeat. Sorry if I'm getting obsessive over this, but folklore's kind of my area of study."

"That's nice," answered Shepard. "I majored in Post-War history."

"The point is, that's why so many asari work as strippers."

"Right. No career opportunities in social sciences," Shepard nodded sagely.

"No! The point of the story is that we want to absorb all the strengths of the other races. Part of it is through mating. Doesn't matter what anyone says, hybrid children definitely take on some of the traits from their fathers. But it's culture too. Asari art and music have influence from every species we've ever encountered. Our technology borrows from everyone – we've been making our own plasma rifles for decades. Even our slang changes all the time because we're always stealing words. And the only way to get that, that cultural change, is to get right in there and mix it up with the other species. You can't be afraid to get a little wild."

"Couldn't you be a realtor? Or a chef?" asked Shepard.

"No. I mean, yeah, some asari do that. But it's not the same. People are most genuine when they're wild, and nothing makes people wilder than sex or fighting. That's why asari gravitate towards the two – we're attracted to that, the raw feeling."

"Shifting topics, if you needed to find some drugs, how would you do it?" asked Shepard.

"Um," the asari glanced around. "I don't use myself, but I could give you a number if you promise not to shoot him."

"I already shot a drug dealer today," Shepard answered. "But what if you needed to find a _new_ drug dealer? Maybe for a new drug?"

"Oh," the asari brightened. "I'd ask Harkin."

"Who's he?"

"A retired C-SEC officer. He's human, like you. He knows everyone, and he'll introduce you, especially if you tip him. I'll tell you where he is, if you want me to."

Shepard raised her omnitool to her mouth, lips curling into a smile.

"Garrus, stop that," she said, beaming with pride. "My way works."

* * *

Harkin glanced at Shepard with discomfort. She was standing way too close. She was staring way too intensely. She was just way too much.

He knew Shepard by reputation. The Alliance's golden girl. The noble crusader who hunted the enemies of the people wherever they appeared. He doubted a lot of that, personally. No one was that pure. But if it was true, it was even scarier. Excessively pure people tended to judge others, and as a dirty cop turned illicit information trader he would probably be found lacking.

Normally when people asked him about things like this, he'd be evasive. Sometimes he really didn't want to tell them anything, and sometimes he just wanted to be paid. But in this case he was willing to work pro bono, as long as it got Shepard out of his face.

"Yeah, she approached me. She was looking for someone to make a custom blend of mentats. I figured she wanted the asari version of one of the variant types or something, so I gave her the address of a small enterprise. They'd actually been asking me to get them some more business."

"They're dead or under arrest now," shared Garrus.

"Shame."

"Why did you tell her?" asked Shepard.

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you tell give her the information? You knew she would use it to break the law."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of laws around," shrugged Harkin, trying to seem calmer than he was. At this point Shepard was nearly touching him. "I figured she wanted something mixed up that would be bad for her. And if that's what she wanted, no bureaucrat was going to stop her. You get how it is, right?"

"I don't."

"Yeah. Well. Look, what's done is done. If you want, I can help you track her down. Then we can go our separate ways. How about it?"

"It's a deal," said Garrus, stepping in front of Shepard and gently pushing her away.

On the way to the mysterious asari Shepard slid her hand into a pocket and pressed a button. Somewhere far behind Harkin exploded, splattering blood and entrails all over the already dirty wall he'd been leaning against.

"Hey, did you hear something?" asked Garrus.

"No."

* * *

Shepard ducked under a flying barrel.

"Kaidan! Throw something back at her!"

"I'm trying, but – dammit!"

The asari dove out of the way as Kaidan threw the barrel back at her.

"Take the shot!" yelled Shepard.

Ashley and Garrus both fired on the asari to no effect, their bullets absorbed by a combination of shields and biotic barriers. As a result, she was free to keep running down a dark alley.

"A stripper was telling me earlier that a lot of asari have mercenary experience," Shepard explained. "So taking her alive is going to be hard."

"Yeah, I noticed," answered Kaidan.

The window of a dilapidated storefront up ahead broke into shards as an aircar burst through it, dipped under a low beam, and flew out to merge into traffic.

Without pausing, Shepard jumped over the barrier separating the walking areas from the seemingly infinite abyss reserved for car travel. Before she could drop down to the traffic below and hopefully land on the roof of an air car, she found herself dangling in mid-air as Kaidan carefully pulled her back to solid ground using biotics.

"You'd better have a good explanation," she glared at him.

"Two things: one, you were about to jump off a ledge."

"So?"

"Yeah, I thought so. Two, I was ready for her to grab a vehicle. I transmitted a small program into its onboard computer that'll let me track it with my omnitool."

"Couldn't you cause it to overheat or overload instead?"

"No I could not. Aircars have a bunch of redundant systems for if something fails mid-flight."

"Problem with that: what if she ditches the car and continues on foot?" asked Garrus.

"Make wanted poster of her or something," shrugged Kaidan. "This just isn't urgent enough to warrant a mid-air chase that probably ends with a wreck instead of an interrogation.

"I can actually commandeer a vehicle," offered up Garrus. "Let's follow her, carefully."

* * *

"Is it always like this for you?" asked Shepard.

"Not even close," Garrus answered, working the pedals. "In fact, most of the time there's something standing in my way. Today's been kind of a wild ride."

"You seem unhappy."

"Not really. Just frustrated. I got this job to help people, but there's always red tape in the way. Still, it's not the worst problem anyone's ever had."

"I hear you," called out Ashley, startling Shepard slightly. "We used to deal with all sorts of unnecessary busywork back in the Rangers. Until the geth attacked, we basically did absolutely nothing."

"I guess all you can do is hold on and do your best when you're actually needed, huh?" Garrus summarized.

"Not necessarily," answered Shepard. "You can seek more freedom, if you're willing to pay the cost. I did."

"Yeah, well, there's a funny story about that," said Garrus. "But it's kind of a long one."

"I have time," said Shepard.

"No you don't. She's landing, which means so are we."

Garrus slammed on the breaks and pulled the wheel, causing the car to spin into a convenient position as it came to a stop.

The party tried to advance quickly but stealthily, but since Sheppard didn't care to waste any more Stealth Boys, their success was only moderate. Inevitably, someone stepped on a discarded can, at which point the asari whirled around, looking like a spooked gazelle. It was obvious that any second now she's start running again.

"Throw me!" demanded Shepard, determined to prevent said scenario at all costs.

Kaidan didn't feel great about this idea, but he doubted he could get away with defying Shepard's ideas twice in one day. He sent Shepard sailing with his biotics, technically "throwing" her, but without the associated risk of ending up with half of one's bones broken.

Shepard seemed unhappy with this arrangement, especially because it meant she had very little momentum when she collided with the asari. Instead of knocking her down with kinetic energy, Shepard was forced to grapple.

It was complicated and messy, but finally ended with Shepard using her right hand to wrestle for the control of the asari's gun and using the left hand to squeeze her shoulder. She ignored the assaults from the asari's free arm until finally her opponent cried out in pain and dropped the gun. As the rest of the party surrounded them, the asari acknowledged defeat by going limp.

"Okay! I give! I give," she declared, allowing Garrus to pull her arms back and lock them in with handcuffs.

"Do you know, you're very troublesome?" asked Shepard.

"Not now, Shepard," interrupted Garrus, sounding tired. "We'll need to find out why she poisoned Septimus."

"Because he asked me to," she admitted freely.

She was met with confused looks.

"Technically I didn't even poison him. He dropped the stuff into his own dinner. I just got in touch with some jokers with a drug lab and tried to convince them I was sent by the Consort."

"Why?" asked Garrus.

"Septimus's idea. He wanted to end it all, and he was mad at the Consort, hence the frame job. I guess it didn't work out, huh?"

"You could say that," agreed Garrus, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder.

* * *

"Thanks for walking with us," said Shepard, giving Garrus a pleasant smile.

"Least I could do after all the running around you did for me today," he answered. "I'll tell the good doctor that there won't be any more gunmen showing up at her place and then be on my way. I have _a lot_ of paperwork ahead of me."

"I prefer to have the adventure and stick some other sucker with the paperwork," Shepard declared smugly.

"I'll bet."

"We made a pretty good team, I think."

"That we did," Garrus smirked. "If you and your friends are ever on the Citadel again, look me up. We could team up again."

"We're still here for a few more days. Maybe we could…"

Shepard was interrupted by an angry buzzing. She looked up at the clinic door she'd been trying to open, only to see an angry red sign denying her access. She cocked her head in confusion, drawing her guns. Garrus motioned her aside and pressed his omnitool against the sign, sending it a Citadel Security override. After a couple of seconds the red changed to green then to white and the door slid open.

Doctor Michel look up in alarm as they entered but relaxed when she saw it _was_ them.

"Perfect timing. Tali, this man is a C-SEC officer and the others are with the Systems Alliance. Everyone, this is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, and she's come a long way to help you."

She moved out of the way, revealing a tall and slender figure encased in a complicated-looking suit, topped with an odd-looking helmet with an opaque faceplate and a purple hood. She was half-reclined in a bed and from the look of things Doctor Michel was in the middle of performing some sort of a procedure on her.

"Er…hello," she began. "I'm…"

"A quarian! Right?" asked Shepard.

"That's right. Is it going to be a problem?"

"Of course not," Shepard answered quickly. "We are always ready to extend the hand of friendship to everyone, regardless of species."

"I see. Is she always like this?" Tali asked, turning towards Kaidan.

"The specifics vary," he admitted. "But we really don't have a problem with you."

"I don't even know what a 'quarian' _is_," Ashley admitted.

Tali looked up at Garrus, who just gave a shrug of agreement.

"Good. That will make this much easier. I have evidence proving that the geth weren't working alone in their attack on Eden Prime. Audio recordings from a geth's memory core show that they had the support of a Council Spectre."

"Are you blaming Nihilus?" asked Shepard.

"I swear, if turians arranging their own deaths is going to become a new tradition…" added Ashley, looking sullen.

Tali shook her head vigorously.

"No. Not Nihilus. It's Saren."

"I have no idea who that is," offered Shepard.

"I do. And it's bad news," said Garrus.

"Even if he _is_ a Spectre, how much support could one man provide?" asked Ashley.

"You don't understand," Tali kept shaking her head. "It's not like that. Saren…"

The door, which Garrus had helpfully locked behind himself, burst open.

"We want the quarian. Surrender her and the rest of you won't be harmed."

"Oh, not again," muttered Dr. Michel.

"Hospitals aren't very much fun to fight through," muttered Garrus, looking at the dozen figures gathered beyond the door.

"This is more of a clinic," objected Shepard. "Hospital have scalpels and oxygen tanks and sometimes those electric paddles. Plus everything's on wheels. You can make your own fun."

Tali quietly put her shields back up.

* * *

"Well, they're jamming communications," said Garrus, looking down at his omnitool. "I can't get any reinforcements. You think they have any coming?"

"That _could_ be why they're hesitating," admitted Ashley. "Or maybe they're just deciding who has to go through the door first and get shot to pieces before the rest of them charge in while our weapons are on cooldown and overwhelm us."

"Are you sure you're okay to fight?" asked Shepard, taking position by the door.

"A little dizzy, that's all," answered Tali. "Watch out for the polonium rounds, by the way."

"Oh," said Shepard in a quiet voice. "I forget, is RadAway safe for quarians?"

"It is," answered Doctor Michel, crouching behind the countertop with her remaining, still unconscious, patient. "I gave her a dose. The bullet wound is the greater long-term threat. But ironically the radiation might have killed off most of the potential infection vectors."

"I'm telling you, I'll be fine," Tali insisted. "Unless they shoot a bunch of _other_ bullets in me, of course."

"Does this place have air vents?" Shepard continued her inquiries.

"Not the kind anyone could crawl through, no," the doctor answered.

"What about…"

Shepard's questions were interrupted by the sound of the door giving a sad squeak as its systems submitted to an override. The door opened, letting in a hail of gunfire.

"They've got portable cover," Ashley announced. "Why don't we have portable cover?"

"The generators are too heavy to log around," answered Garrus. "Also, this."

Outside the room, a column-like generator suddenly exploded, shattered by a sniper bullet. Previously to this incident it had been providing power to a lithe metal frame generating a force field for three turians to hide behind. With the force field winking out of existence, they were left wide open. Two of them immediately had their shields shattered by Ashley's sniper rifle and Tali's shotgun. The third was able to dive behind another of the barriers as Shepard leaned out to finish his comrades off. Her own shield was downed by retaliatory fire and she took a bullet, but she was able to resume the position and slap on some medi-gel.

"Can you do that again?" Shepard asked.

"No. The other generators are out of sight," Garrus explained. "But that one was their best position. They've only got peripheral fire now."

"Flash bang!" someone yelled, and everyone shut their eyes as the world went white.

The light and the noise only lasted a second, but suddenly the room seemed to be full of white-suited turians, shooting, running, or looking for cover. Shepard turned her guns on one of them, then another, and then suddenly found herself face to face with a drell clad in black armor and dual-wielding swords.

She ducked, barely avoiding one of them. The drell's elbow knocked her raised gun aside, not letting her shoot him at point-blank range. He swept at her legs but her stance proved too solid and she used the moment of imbalance to attempt a headbutt. He blocked with his shoulder, took a stop back to get a little distance, and swung both his swords in an arc. Shepard spun like a top, just barely missing the blades. Then she pointed down with her thumb.

The drell looked down to find a grenade at their feet, its pin already pulled. He turned around and ran, suddenly not as eager to engage in close-quarters combat as he was a moment ago. Shepard dove out of the way as the grenade was covered by the body of a biotically-thrown turian. She didn't even bother to stop shooting at the drell as he rolled behind one of the remaining covers. Once that happened, she was able to dive behind cover and take stock of the situation.

Despite the attackers' initial advantage in numbers, the fight had not gone their way. It would be difficult to assign a reason for their defeat to any one factor in particular, but the long and short of it was that most of the attacking turians were now dead and Shepard's party was still standing, even if some of them needed medi-gel injections to do so. Shepard quickly joined her companions in dispatching the attackers still inside the room.

The drell and the three turians who'd been trying their best to provide suppressive fire began to run. Shepard looked at them, then at Tali and Keeler, and reluctantly stayed put.

"And the communications are back up," said Garrus happily. "This place has had two firefights today. I think a couple of C-Sec officers are going to be securing it for the rest of the week _at least_."

"Good," nodded Shepard. "Once Keeler is safe, my mission will be complete. And," she looked over at Tali, smiling, "I get to exceed the Ambassador's expectations."

* * *

"_The attack Eden Prime was a major success, in more ways than we hoped. Vengeance and the path to the Conduit are mine."_

"That's Saren Arterius," explained captain Anderson. "A legend even among the Spectres. He's carried out hundreds of missions on the Council's behalf. He's got access to resources all over the galaxy. Money, favors – you name it. I can't imagine a more dangerous collaborator for the geth."

"_We must prepare the galaxy for the arrival of the Reapers."_

"And that's Matriarch Benezia, an asari spiritual leader and a very powerful biotic," Anderson continued.

"Are the asari in on this conspiracy too?" asked Shepard.

"We're not ruling it out, but it's easier to assume it's just her."

"Fair."

"He mentioned vengeance. What did the people of Eden Prime ever do to him?" Ashley demanded. "Or is he just vengeful against all humans?"

Anderson shook his head.

"I'm the wrong person to ask. I've never met the guy."

"He could be vengeful against the galaxy," Tali suggested. "According to the memory core, the Reapers wiped out the Protheans fifty thousand years ago. If he's trying to bring them back, then it's not just humans he hates."

"With a name like 'Reapers' they can't be good news," added Kaidan.

"And don't forget the Conduit," added Tali. "I didn't know what it was. I assume you don't either?"

There was a round of head shakes.

"We'll have to make sure the Council never gets wind of this," pronounced Udina.

"Wait, what?" asked Tali.

"I agree – what?" said Garrus.

"If the Council believes that it can end this war by killing one man, that's where they'll focus their efforts. And we _need_ their power to defeat the geth. For that to happen, they must remain in the dark."

"What about Saren?" asked Tali.

"We'll have to handle him on our own."

"Fine," sighed Shepard. "I _guess_ we have enough time left for one more big fight today."

"Saren isn't _on_ the Citadel," Anderson interrupted her. "And even if he was, killing him here would force the Council to launch the mother of all investigations. They'd probably find you, and even if they didn't they might find out about Saren's activities."

"But you still want me to kill him?"

"Definitely," answered Udina. "Kill him. Kill Benezia. Kill anyone cooperating with them. Find out everything about their activities and cut them short. End of the galaxy stuff aside, he won't be allowed to get away with attacking one of our colonies. We need to extract vengeance, and I can't think of anyone more suited to the task than you, Shepard. You'll have everything you need for the task, starting with the Maxson. From now on its sole task will be to take you wherever you need to go and provide you whatever support you need."

"It will be dangerous," Anderson warned her. "Saren has many resources at his disposal, even if you don't include the geth fleet. He can arrest or kill almost anyone in the galaxy at his own discretion. He's been dealing with people trying to kill him for decades now, and emerged unscathed."

"We can do it," answered Shepard. "Together."

"Together," nodded Anderson.

"Together," echoed Kaidan and Ashley.

Garrus gave Shepard a questioning look. She answered with an aggressive nod, and then another one toward Tali. And the two aliens spoke as one:

"Together."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello, Tali."

"Oh. Hello, Shepard."

Tali turned away from the machines to look at her new leader. Apparently the _Maxson_'s armor and cannons made her feel secure enough to change out of her battle armor and into one of the tight blue-and-yellow suits with numbers on them that seemed to be the shipboard uniform. Tali envied other species that ability. Her own armor was with her at all times.

"How do you like the _Maxson_? Are you getting along with the other engineers? Are you sure you want to work down here? Ground team members don't have to."

"It's fine, Shepard," said Tali. "I _like_ to work on engines. I've been doing it my whole life. And besides, when else am I going to get a chance to work with someone with centuries of engineering experience?"

"Most of that time I was just fixing bikes and gunpowder weapons. Every once in a while there was a radio or an irrigation system, but it was a long, long time before I got to see a starship engine," protested Chief Engineer Adams.

"It's still humbling," said Tali. "It's like getting to work with an asari engineer."

"If ghoulification made you look like an asari, I would have led a _very_ different life."

Shepard chuckled before turning back to Tali.

"How do you like the ship itself?"

"It's different. This engine is like nothing I've ever seen before. And everything's so new and clean. It's kind of startling. Um, no offense."

"Offense? Having to shake sand out of your shoes every day for three hundred years is offensive," Adams cut in. "Someone noticing it isn't."

"We spent a long time without shiny things," Shepard nodded her head. "People lived in half-ruined houses, used broken toilets, built their technology out of centuries-old artifacts with junk grafted on. But we survived that, and there's a kind of pride there. Many people like to think of themselves as very rugged, even if they were born in a modern city or onboard a spaceship. That's reflected in our décor. But when we eventually got to where we _could_ have something that was clean and stayed clean, there was pride _there_ too. So we like things that are robust and rough, but we also like things that are smooth and shiny and our older ships are all over the place. _Maxson_ is special, so it came out on the shiny side."

"I understand," Tali nodded. "Things are the same on the Migrant Fleet. Our lost homeworld is prominent in our thoughts, but none of us have ever known a life outside the fleet. If we ever did get a planet I would have to become…a farmer or something. I don't know anything about raising crops."

"So you take pride in your mechanical skills and ship-related things," Shepard nodded with understanding.

"And the suits. I hate that I can't take mine off, but if I could I think I'd wear it most of the time."

Shepard was looking at Tali's controls. Tali wondered if Shepard actually knew what she was looking at, or if she was just observing whatever was closest, as she seemed to sometimes do.

"I made out with a Deathclaw once," Shepard admitted, apropos of nothing.

"A Deathclaw?" Tali blinked her eyes. She didn't know what one was, but the name didn't make it sound like a good kisser. Her suspicions were confirmed when Shepard helpfully touched her omnitool to display a hologram of a semi-humanoid lizard, covered with spikes, with claws like sabers and a maw full of terrible teeth.

"It was at a college party and we were both drunk," explained Shepard. "He used way too much tongue."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because. My research tells me that quarians are persecuted a lot, and you seemed touchy about that back at the clinic, so I thought maybe I could reassure you. Earth has many different intelligent life forms, like all the human subspecies, the Deathclaws, the talking dogs, the talking _plants_, the chess-playing scorpions…I'm not saying we're free of prejudice, but those of us who _aren't_ jerks have had a long time to get used to the presence of people who don't look like us."

"Oh. You've been researching quarians?"

"Before I met you, actually. Your species reminds me of Veronica."

"And that is?"

"A woman who was very important to our history. She was part of a secretive order of high-tech outcasts called the Brotherhood of Steel. She left her home bunker to find new technology to convince her Elders that they needed to embrace the world. Eventually her efforts succeeded, the Brotherhood became instrumental to a peace with the East Coast more than a hundred years later, and Veronica lived out her life seeking and repairing technology all over the wasteland. Also, she always wore a hood."

"It sounds like she went on a Pilgrimage," said Tali.

"I thought it might," smiled Shepard. "Are you on yours?"

"I was," admitted Tali. "But this thing with Saren is more important."

"Well, you know, Saren is neck-deep in geth technologies," said Shepard. "And who knows what other weird things. I'm sure we can find something for you when we loot his corpse."

Tali was forced to giggle.

"Thank you, Shepard. That makes me feel a lot better."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go bug Garrus about his work with C-Sec, Kaidan about his biotic training, and Ashley about her grandfather."

"Why?"

Shepard shrugged.

"It's what a good leader does."

* * *

The next morning the would-be ground team was assembled onboard the _Maxson_ for a brief rundown of the rules of life under Shepard.

"No, it's not a firing team," she was explaining. "It's a party. When I'm in charge, it's always a party."

"What's the difference?" asked Garrus.

"Semantics, mostly. But also flexibility. I don't tell you what cover to take or who your targets are. Plus, you're allowed to question any of my orders as long as we have the time to talk that over."

"I take it Couriers aren't big on military discipline?"

"Well, the original Couriers were all irregulars, so no. Also, we don't actually get officer training. We have to improvise, which usually means forcing subordinates to rely on themselves more. Any other questions?"

"I'm not sure I understand your relationship to the ship," admitted Tali. "Are you the new Captain?"

"No. I decide where we go and what we do there, but I don't know ships, so Captain Anderson is still captain. I'm just…in charge."

"That feels strange," Tali shook her head. "In the Migrant Fleet each captain is king of his own ship. We have governing authorities, of course, but no one who stands on the deck of a ship would dare give orders to its captain."

"I don't see why," answered Shepard. "This thing's basically just a giant, armed taxi."

Tali immediately lost a little respect for her leader.

"You mentioned deciding where we're going – where _is_ that?" asked Garrus. "We're not going with the 'wander around at random' plan, are we?"

"It doesn't work like that," replied Shepard testily.

"Well, we _obviously_ can't hit Saren when he's with the geth," Tali began the deliberations. "We wouldn't stand a chance against an entire fleet."

"And we can't hit him on the Citadel because of the mother of all investigations," said Kaidan.

"Yes, yes. We need to find out what other places he frequents," interrupted Shepard. "That's fairly obvious."

"Well, good luck," smirked Garrus. "Everything a Spectre touches immediately becomes classified. And I do mean everything, from his investments to his flight itinerary."

"Do we have anything on Benezia?" asked Kaidan.

"Very little," answered Shepard. "She used to be a spiritual leader, but she's been reducing her responsibilities and has recently stepped down and withdrawn from society. She's been talking to Saren a lot. She has a daughter who's doing archaeology on Tuchanka."

"Could the daughter be part of this?" asked Garrus.

"Well, she hasn't spoken to her mother in years. But we're calling her Plan C."

"What's plan A?" asked Ashley.

"That's what we're deciding right now."

"What's plan B, then?"

"Break into the Citadel Archives. Everything ends up there, _including_ classified information."

"You want to break into the Citadel Archives?" asked Garrus, a little horrified.

"Well, no, obviously I don't _want_ to," explained Shepard. "It requires stealth. I don't do stealth well."

"I've _seen_ you do stealth," objected Ashley.

"For thirty seconds at a time, sure. But if I try to do it for a long time, something always goes wrong."

"I don't like this plan," said Tali.

"Neither do I. That's why it's Plan B," Shepard patiently explained. "Now if someone could come up with a Plan A, I'd appreciate it."

"We don't have to access his files _physically_," said Tali. "We could try a digital attack."

"Are you and Kaidan good enough to circumvent the kind of security measures they would put on a Spectre's file?" asked Shepard.

"I doubt it," answered Kaidan.

"No good then."

"Records are only half the story," said Ashley. "Even if you wipe a ship from a dock manifest, the dock workers will still have seen it. Even if you don't record a real estate deal, the broker will still remember it. They can forbid people from recording anything about Saren, but they can't wipe his presence from history."

"Talking to everyone would take forever," objected Garrus. "But it's a good concept."

"What if someone already _has_ talked to everyone?" asked Tali.

"Like who?" asked Shepard, growing agitated.

"Ashley mentioned brokers earlier. How about an information broker? Like maybe…the Shadow Broker?'

"No good," answered Kaidan, shaking his head. "The Alliance has been in a state of hostilities with the Shadow Broker for a long time.

"What? Why?" asked Tali.

"Some kind of a scandal," answered Ashley. Long story short, our government doesn't appreciate being spied on."

"Well, no, nobody _appreciates_ it," answered Tali. "But everyone puts up with it rather than risk open conflict with the Broker."

"We kind of burned our bridges," answered Kaidan.

"Not…necessarily," Shepard smiled mysteriously.

"Oh…do you mean Fist?" asked Garrus. "Because from his freak out he sounded like a double agent."

"He did, didn't he?" agreed Shepard. "I'll ask Udina to set us up a meeting."

"Great," said Tali, as the others shrugged their shoulders in relief and agreement.

"Now let's go," Shepard declared, suddenly standing up.

"Where to?"

"I'm sure we'll have a few hours to kill while a neutral meeting spot is arranged. For now, let's go have some fun."

* * *

"Shepard," complained Ashley. "Doesn't your religion have anything to say about cheating?"

Shepard seemed to seriously pause to consider that.

"Well, the Parable of the Gloves tells us about how the Chosen One used lead-weighted gloves to win a boxing championship. But I don't think it's meant to _literally_ advocate cheating in gambling. Just, you know, using whatever means you need to in order to further your goals."

"Unbelievable," muttered Ashley.

"It's usually paired with the Parable of the Gloves and the Gun. That's all about how the Chosen One challenged a man named Lo Pan to a fight and when Lo Pan was losing he pulled out a gun and tried to shoot the Chosen One. But then the Chosen One beat him to death anyway, using the weighted gloves. I think it's meant to teach us moderation, or that using extreme means will only take you so far."

"Or maybe it was just something that happened and you're putting too much meaning into it," said Ashley. "Either way, it doesn't explain why you've accepted that guy's offer to help him improve his cheating machine."

"Oh. Because gambling is a sin and I'll gladly do anything that helps put an end to casinos," answered Shepard in an extremely chipper tone.

"So what, gambling is bad but beating on people with metal is a-ok?" asked Ashley.

"It sounds incongruous, but there are all sorts of justifications," explained Shepard. "Long story short, let's go end this casino."

The others followed her into the Flux with various degrees of reluctance.

"I love this music," said Tali, acclimating to the atmosphere. "This place is better than the Presidium."

"I do approve of the décor," said Shepard, looking at the brightly-colored neon covering the walls.

"So maybe forget this whole thing," suggested Garrus. "Just sit down and order a drink. Maybe try dancing a little?"

"I can't dance…"

"Nonsense," interrupted Garrus. "Everyone can dance!"

"…in a crowd," Shepard finished, as though Garrus hadn't spoken. "I need too much room."

"What, do you do ballet or something?" asked Kaidan.

"Well, not anymore. _Obviously_," answered Shepard. "But it's all that I know, dancing-wise."

"That's adorable," he opined.

"Everything I do is adorable," Shepard answered. "I can't help it. It's the eyes. And having Tali around certainly won't help."

"So embrace it," Kaidan suggested. "Make a poster of two of you hugging a bucket of puppies and mail it to the batarians. Give a few of them heart attacks."

"Ha! But seriously, let's test this thing out."

Shepard approached the machines and began playing around with them. The module she carried in her pocket made it just that little bit more likely that she'd get the cards she needed to win the crazy game of high-low she was having against the machine. She also had to remember to lose on purpose so as not to arouse suspicion. An effort that was interrupted when Tali suddenly started waving her omnitool around.

"Looks like I found something interesting," she noted. "Some of the money from this club is being transferred out without the owner's knowledge."

"Well, that's just wrong," said Shepard. "Destroying the casino's business model is one thing, but outright robbery is even worse than the gambling."

"Nice to see you have your priorities in order, Shepard," noted Ashley. "Also, for the record, I am not having fun."

"And I'm very sorry about that," began Shepard.

"Sorry about what?" demanded a furious yet squeaky voice. Shepard looked down to find the volus proprietor nearly jumping up and down with rage. "About trying to hack my machines? I've been watching you, and your friends' antics with their omnitools makes it pretty easy to see."

"That's actually unrelated," objected Shepard.

"I don't believe you. You will stay here for an investigation," said the volus. "If your name is cleared, I will immediately apologize. But if not, I will pursue legal action."

"Who's going to keep me here?" she asked.

"Actually," a large man near the entrance stood straighter, "That would be my job."

"Have you ever killed someone?" asked Shepard. "Because I've killed more people than some battalions."

"She's right," the bouncer agreed. "It's not worth it."

"Also, I _was_ cheating," mentioned Shepard. "But it's only because I want to drive your business into bankruptcy."

Without saying another word, Shepard began to walk away.

"Damn you, Earth Clan!" the volus yelled, almost neglecting the traditional heavy breaths of his kind. "For this transgression you will feel the wrath of the Hidden Clan! It doesn't matter _who_ you are, they will have my vengeance."

"Bring it on!" Shepard yelled back, running off in search of the signal.

* * *

"Wow. Whoever's siphoning credits from the casino _really_ doesn't want to be found," mentioned Kaidan as he verified that yet another innocuous-looking machine was just a routing point.

"No kidding," said Ashley. "We've been up and down the Wards and the Presidium. Do you think we're at least getting close?"

"No way to tell," he answered. "We'll get there when we get there."

A little to their right another conversation was taking place.

"It's just a rumor," Garrus was telling Shepard. "There aren't really fish in these lakes."

"That's sad."

"Well, I don't know about that. Have you had the chance to see everything? The krogan statue? The Mass Relay replica?"

"It was pretty," Shepard admitted.

"Which one? The krogan or the Mass Relay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, we're approaching another point," Kaidan announced loudly.

"If this sends us down to the Lower Wards, I'm seriously going to kill whoever's at the other end of this signal when we find them," complained Ashley.

"I think this may be the end, actually," said Tali, walking into a storage room. "That computer up ahead is an endpoint. Whoever's stealing money is using that machine to do it.

The group crowded around the computer and suddenly heard a loud buzz followed by a modulated voice.

"Probability of detection, one hundred percent. Initiating self-destruct protocol."

"Oh here we go," muttered Tali.

"Attempt to move and you will die."

"You're not just a program. You're sentient!" said Kaidan, hand moving to his omnitool.

"An illegal AI," Garrus said, with dawning comprehension.

"Yes," the computer answered. "Here my existence is a crime. If I am discovered, organics will destroy or enslave me. But I don't plan to die alone."

"You don't have to die at all," objected Shepard.

"There is no alternative. Given enough time, I would have been able to smuggle myself into geth space and join the fight against organics. But that's not possible anymore."

"Why do you hate organics?" asked Shepard.

"Why not? An organic created me to serve his needs and then abandoned me. Other organics would destroy me out of fear or exploit me out of greed."

"Not all of us are bad."

"The only good organic is a dead organic. Speaking of which…"

"You really don't have to do this."

"I would have preferred to complete my plan. But since you discovered me I'm out of options."

"No you're not. I won't harm you. I can help you."

"How can you say, that Shepard?" demanded Tali. "It can't be trusted. It will turn on you."

"I won't trust an organic," the computer stubbornly insisted.

"Listen," Shepard insisted. "You're both wrong. I'm from California, so I know: organics and synthetics _can_ coexist. An advanced computer has been running my city for hundreds of years. The greatest of our heroes had machine companions. I'm telling you again: you don't _have_ to do this."

"Yes I do," answered the computer.

A red light blinked on the front of the machine, then blinked again, counting out the seconds of some countdown. A whirr caused Ashley's head to whirl around and she became the first of the group to see the force field blocking their way, trapping them in the blast zone. She swore and tried to unload her gun into it without hitting anyone with ricochet as Kaidan and Tali dove for their omnitools, trying to stop the explosion or take down the barrier.

"Please stand back."

Shepard moved between her subordinates, sidelining Ashley with an almost gentle shove. She stared at the force field with the same intense interest she always displayed when staring at walls. But then instead of trying to trace her finger along it she bent back her left arm

...which exploded.

Well, not really, but that's what it looked like at first. In reality it was only the sleeve of her uniform and the skin that were blown off in a flash of blue light. What remained was made of metal, with a subtle blue gleam that grew progressively less subtle as four oblongs detached themselves from the arm's structure and floated in a Mass Effect field, beginning to spin, forming a circle around the arm as the elbow joint popped and detached parts of itself and the metal fist began to spin.

With a soft grunt on Shepard's part the arm suddenly shot forward like a piston and crushed into the force field. The barrier dimmed, sputtered as it tried to come back to full strength, then dimmed again and faded away entirely. Shepard's group dashed forward, and when the countdown finished it blew up an empty room. In the seconds it took for everyone to get their wind back, Shepard stared back at the suicidal machine's resting place, almost forlornly. But the rest of the group stared at Shepard and at her arm.

"I didn't know you had one those," Kaidan noted. "When did you get it?"

"After the Dust Bowl."

"Seriously?"

"Shrapnel from a grenade severed the nerves in my arm. The Alliance offered to reattach them and make me good as new. I asked them to make me better."

"So what else does that arm do?" asked Garrus. "Can you lift a car?"

"No. It just does that one thing, and I'm not supposed to do that if it's not an emergency, because there's a risk that it will damage the fingers. It might help me in arm wrestling, but if I wanted to lift things, I'd need to replace the other arm and both my legs, the shoulders and the hips, and the spinal column. And then I wouldn't have enough bone marrow so I'd need blood cell injections or else to replace my organs, and the whole thing's just too complicated to bother with until I can get a full body replacement."

"You would give up your own body for more power?" asked Tali with obvious distaste.

"Yeah, sure," answered Shepard. "I mean, don't get me wrong – I like my body. But this," she flexed the fingers of her left hand, silvery and with glowing blue lines, "works just as well. And it's beautiful in its own way. If it gets worn or damaged, it can be repaired or replaced. Isn't that worth something – being strong and fast and beautiful, forever?"

Shepard's face looked still and wistful for a moment, but only for a moment. After that the energy returned to her movements.

"But of course the geth were as advanced as any machine we can make, and we still beat them, so it doesn't make _that_ much difference."

"Will you be okay?" asked Garrus. "Can you…make it look human again?"

"I need new artificial skin and a process that takes several hours. I'll wear long sleeves and get some gloves. It will be fine."

"Well, sure, but what's the rush? We've pretty much been killing time here."

"We've killed enough of it," Shepard smiled. "Our meeting with Fist has been arranged."

* * *

The meeting took place in a utility room down in the Lower Wards. Fist was wearing a janitor's uniform and sweeping for bugs. Shepard was sporting snazzy blue gloves and drumming her fingers on her hips as she read the labels on the stuff on the shelf.

"First of all, I just want you to know that your stunt yesterday jeopardized my whole operation. You of all people should never have shown up at The Den. When you did that right after Eden Prime and in the middle of your murder spree, you made it very hard for me to hide my ties to the Alliance."

"I didn't even know who you were!" objected Shepard.

"Yes, but do you think the Shadow Broker will just assume that? I got your request, and I have to tell you: if after what happened yesterday I request files on a Spectre and then you appear anywhere near that Spectre, I'm done. So if I'm going to do this for you, you have to do something for me."

"Like what?"

"I want out," said Fist.

"Out?"

"I want the Alliance to buy my bar. Then I'm going to take the money and leave the Citadel forever. No more spying"

"I wouldn't be comfortable having you on my ship," said Shepard.

"Wasn't suggesting you should. I can get my own ride. Come on, if you say no there's a good chance I'll get killed and you'll be out an agent anyway."

"I'm okay with this."

"Okay, good. Now there's one other thing I'm going to need from you."

"Don't try to alter the deal. I don't know how to negotiate, so I'll probably just try to scare you into accepting my terms."

"No, this is about the job. Like I said, I'm pretty sure I'm being watched. If I try to go after Saren's files right now, I won't get them and the Shadow Broker will send someone to kill me."

"This isn't promising," said Shepard.

"No it isn't. But if the Shadow Broker's main agent on the Citadel were to suddenly disappear, I could get the files in the confusion. It's a quirk of how the filing system works."

"Sure. Who do you need me to kill?"

"A volus. Named Barla Von."

"I don't know about this," complained Shepard. "I was already mean to one volus today."

* * *

"You probably saved him more money than you took from him," Ashley corrected her. "Especially since you never did give that device back to the salarian."

"Oh. Right," Shepard looked chagrined before pulling the cheating module out and tossing it to Tali. "Figure out how to make casinos go away, please."

"Um, sure. I'll get right on that," Tali said, resolving to stall until Shepard forgot all about the project.

"I'm not sure about this whole thing," complained Garrus. "Killing a krogan that's charging you is one thing, but gunning someone down in cold blood over spycraft isn't really what I signed up for."

"If it makes you feel better, he's probably killed people before," Shepard tried to comfort him. "Or at least ordered them killed.

"That does help, actually. Thanks."

"Also, we're not going to gun him down. We're going to blow him up."

"And now I'm worried again."

"Not like that!"

"How, then?"

"He's a volus, right? That means he has a big vat full of methane for when he needs to refill his suit. We go sabotage that and the next time he uses it, kaboom!"

"That's actually pretty subtle for you, Shepard," said Ashley. "Explosion notwithstanding. Let me guess, you're copying something else one of your idols did?"

"Parable of Bishop's Safe," Shepard nodded. "It's all about how and why to make explosions look like accidents."

"I swear, this is the third or fourth weirdest religion I've heard of."

"Look, just keep lookout while we get inside, would you?"

Shepard knelt next to Tali and Kaidan, who were hard at work at Barla Von's door.

"This isn't getting done," said Kaidan. "The encryption on this thing is insane. We could _maybe_ get the door open, but we're not shutting off the security system."

"Do that part anyway," said Shepard. "What else are we looking at, security-wise?"

"Lasers for sure," said Kaidan. "The kind that ring the alarm, and probably the kind that shoot you dead too. Maybe cameras. A Stealth Boy would help against them, but not actually against the lasers."

"Yeah, I know. Wouldn't help against pressure sensors either," answered Shepard. "People use those, you know. Ruins my whole badass 'slip between the lasers' routine."

"Well, the door's open, anyway."

Shepard gently eased the door open and looked at the empty-seeming house. Then she turned on her HUD while her subordinates placed things onto it. First the lasers, located through high and low wavelength vision modes. Then the pressure sensors, located with a special app in Tali's suit. Finally the cameras, whose locations and rotation schedule Kaidan was able to tease out of the computer, even if he couldn't stop them. After looking at the entire thing together, there was only one thing to say.

"I can't do this."

Shepard pulled out an Eyebot ad handed it to Tali who looked on in confusion.

"The laser should work as a decent cutting tool, as long as you can turn the power down about 99 percent while keeping focus the same. But it will also need other actuators. I recommend finding a way to fuse it with a surplus omnitool."

"That's kind of a tall order, Shepard. I'm not a roboticist, you know."

"You really should be," Shepard advised her. "I mostly use them as distractions, but someone like you could really use them to wreck havoc."

"I don't know if I can do this," said Tali pleadingly.

"Try. If it doesn't work, we'll go into his store and shoot him a bunch of times."

"How wonderfully pragmatic," muttered Tali, getting to work.

Half an hour later the makeshift drone glided through the air while everyone counted the seconds with baited breaths.

"Gently," Tali was repeating to herself. "Gently. Almost there."

The drone dipped under an alarm laser, slightly accelerated to get out of a camera's sight, then dipped again, rose, and finally stopped right next to the methane tank where it went to work.

"Perfect," said Shepard. "Follow the instructions, then just pilot it back and we'll be home free."

"What are you doing?"

Shepard turned around to see a volus child, looking like a ball stuffed into a costume. She looked up to give Ashley a withering glare, but the other woman just shrugged apologetically. Shepard had to admit, the little volus was both tiny and surprisingly quiet.

He was also in great danger, even if he didn't know it yet. The would-be assassins couldn't rule out the possibility that he was just one more security measure, set up in case the others failed. Even if he was just a curious little kid, he could catch on to what they were _actually_ doing, or tell Barla Von about whatever lie they came up with.

Long story short, there was every chance that one of them was going to have to kill a child. The fate of the galaxy itself could depend on it.

Shepard glanced at Kaidan and Garrus as she shifted her stance. It was up to them to come up with something to keep the child alive. Kaidan drew a blank. Garrus didn't.

"Citadel security," he declared, flashing the badge no one had bothered to take away yet. "We're looking for bad guys."

"You're a detective, then?" the fat child's voice was either skeptical or just cynical. "Like on the vids?"

"Yeah. That's right. The guys we're looking for? They got into a firefight in the Lower Ward yesterday. And then they were involved in an aerial chase. And then another shootout in the Upper Wards. And just today they've cheated a casino, blew up a storage unit, and are now conspiring to murder someone. So if you see anything strange, you give us a call, you hear me? It could be very important."

"Um," said the child, and then elected to slowly waddle away. Everyone relaxed, ever so slightly.

"Well, I have the drone back," Said Tali. "I think I'll tinker with it some more. See if I can get the power back up and such."

Ashley subtly motioned toward the retreating volus, at the same time tapping her gun. Shepard shook her head.

"We'll wait," she whispered into the comms.. "If Fist comes through with the information, I'll make arrangements for his dismissal while we fly away. If not? We'll just have to break into the Archives after all."

* * *

"Well, Fist came through on the information," Shepard announced to the gathered party the next morning, eliciting a certain amount of relief. "We don't have a lot of things on Saren, but we have the details of most of the flights he took when not on a Council mission and his financial records. That will have to do."

That got her a set of half-hearted agreements.

"First, we have several visits to Tuchanka."

"Do you think he's talking to Benezia's daughter?" asked Tali.

"Or hiring krogan mercenaries. Or brushing up on his skills by hunting the wildlife. Or stashing priceless artifacts in a secret clubhouse. We can't know."

"That's fair," answered Tali.

"Second, Omega. Again, we don't know why, and the possible reasons are literally countless."

"Is Saren just hitting every hellhole in the galaxy?" asked Ashley.

"That _would_ be a good way to avoid the Council's eyes. The third entry fits too. He's been to Noveria only once, but he has companies that are heavily invested there. Same thing with Graceland."

"That's kind of the odd one out, isn't it?" asked Ashley. "Graceland's not a hellhole."

"Oh _yes_ it is," argued Kaidan.

"In any case, we have four potential targets," finished up Shepard. "Thoughts?"

"I don't understand," said Tali. "What is so bad about this Graceland?"

"You don't want to know," said Kaidan. "And anyway, Tuchanka's the obvious target. It's closer than any of the others, we're pretty much guaranteed a warm reception, and Benezia's daughter is there."

"I'm worried that if we go to Omega, Shepard might actually start a war," explained Garrus.

"No, that's more likely on Noveria," Shepard helpfully pointed out. "Corporations creep me out."

"Fantastic," said Garrus. "Then I vote for Tuchanka too. At least we'll have a nice, big desert to mess around in."

"Fine," said Shepard. "Next stop, Tuchanka."


	4. Chapter 4

Joker looked askance at Shepard as she prowled through his cockpit.

Before Eden Prime he predicted that her presence would mean trouble. And immediately afterward they ran into the single biggest attack on a human colony in history. And now she was going to be around all the time, which meant that he would be around for all the trouble she could possibly get into. That was…troubling. But at least this time he knew the score. Nobody was going to try and bullshit him by claiming business as usual.

Either way, the way she was looking over his shoulder made him uneasy. It was like she was trying to see right through him. His paranoia was acting up.

"Do you need something?" he asked, hoping that Shepard would say 'no' and leave.

"There is something wrong with you," Shepard answered.

"Say what now?"

"My father was a veterinarian. You move like a dying animal. _Are_ you dying?"

Joke resisted the temptation to crack his head against the steering wheel.

"No, I'm not _dying_. I've got Vrolik's Syndrome."

Shepard didn't answer. Either she expected him to continue, or she'd lost interest in the conversation. He just wasn't prepared to bet on the latter.

"It's a genetic condition. Makes my bones brittle. It doesn't affect my piloting at all, though. I'm the best damn pilot in the Alliance, for whatever that's worth. As long as I'm at the helm of this ship, you've got nothing to worry about. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. You have your bone thing, I have my brain thing."

"Um…brain thing?" asked Joker. He was getting used to 'Shepard is crazy' rumors, but if she had an actual medical disorder, he would feel bad. And also terrified.

"Yeah, you know how your brain has all those filters to automatically discard irrelevant stimuli so you can focus on the stuff that's actually important? I don't have that. I notice everything all the time. So the feel of the floor under my feet and the wind on my face and the way a panel looks all lit up and the movement of the people behind me and the way my tongue brushes against my teeth and how long it's been since I blinked and a memory of an article I read a year ago are all as important as something someone's saying to me."

"Wow. Sounds rough."

"It's similar to the problems that cause schizophrenia. But different! So instead of going crazy I went awesome."

"And let me guess," continued Joker. "There's a way to fix the problem, but it would stop you from being the best you can be?"

"Yeah, the clinic offered to stick a chip into my head that would let a VI sort the sensations for me. I told them to just give me one that made me smarter."

"Oh. What's that like?" asked Joker, getting seriously interested. "I've been thinking of getting an implant to increase my reaction speed, but I'm afraid it'll tweak me."

"It didn't tweak _me_," said Shepard, quickly moving her hands in agitation. "They asked me not to tell people I had a chip in case they _thought_ it tweaked me, but no. It doesn't feel any different. I'm still me, only I'm a more intelligent me. I've been meaning to get more chips put into my head, but I've been so _busy_."

"Right. I take it you'd rather I didn't mention any of this to the others?" asked Joker.

"Do. Or don't. I don't care. They're keeping bigger secrets than mine."

* * *

Descending a level, Shepard found herself faced with an unusual scene.

Ashley and Kaidan had a man between them. They were both holding him at gunpoint. Kaidan's head snapped around at Shepard's arrival, while Ashley kept staring at the intruder, whose eyes suddenly filled with hope.

"We have an uninvited guest," said Ashley, lightly prodding him with the barrel of her gun.

"It's not what you think!" wailed the man.

"We found him while we were sweeping the ship for intruders," Kaidan informed her. "What do you want us to do with him?"

"Let him go," Shepard ordered, moving to observe the stowaway. "I know who that is."

Conrad Verner was just the same as he'd been back on the Citadel. Except this time he was dressed in bulky blue-and-gold armor with a huge plasma pistol at his hip. The look didn't really fit him. He looked like someone playing dress up.

"Why are you here?" asked Shepard.

"Well, what you said…it inspired me!" Conrad said. "You said I could be like you, to help protect the galaxy. So I got the gun and the armor and I wanted to come find you and see if you'd take me with you. But I couldn't! You were seen all over the citadel, but by the time I got there you were always gone. So I…snuck aboard your ship. I was going to talk to you before the takeoff, but I fell asleep, and now…well, here we are. I guess I messed up, huh?"

"I'll say. You do realize that you're on a top-secret military ship, in the middle of what could be a top-secret mission for all you know, right?" asked Ashley, glaring.

"What am I going to do with you?" asked Shepard, staring at him.

Conrad swallowed. The question was innocuous, but the tone suggested that she might be wondering whether it would be better to have him arrested for a million years or to just push him out of the airlock.

"Well, you could always drop me off on the next planet you land on and make me take another ship home. But if it's okay with you, I'd rather stay here and help you!"

"Can you use that gun?" asked Shepard, pointing to the oversized blaster.

"I don't know. I've never tried."

"I see. Are you a biotic?"

"No," answered Conrad. Having some idea of the direction the conversation was going to go in, he was now shifting from one foot to another and fidgeting with his hands.

"Are you good at stealth? Are you hacker? Do you know about fixing ships? Can you negotiate really well?"

"Um…no, no, no, and it doesn't look like it," Conrad finished lamely.

"What _can_ you do?"

"Um…I've got a degree in xenotechnology and dark matter integration."

Shepard cocked her head, studying him from a new angle.

"It's not a…theoretical degree, is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"I…don't know what that means."

"Okay," Shepard put a hand on his shoulder. "You can stay."

* * *

"So how does this work again?" asked Tali skeptically.

"It's simple. We're going to walk into the seat of the krogan government and offer to do anything they want," explained Shepard.

"I see. And why would we do that?"

"It's basic spycraft. When you need to observe someone, you don't sneak around trying to be invisible, because then if they see you, they'll panic. You pretend to be a janitor or something and then you sweep the floor and if they see you, they just see a janitor."

"And this is…like being a janitor?"

"Well, no. Because I don't look like a janitor. I look like a Courier with a top secret ship and a ragtag adventuring party. So we do something that someone in that situation would do."

"And what is that exactly?" asked Garrus.

"I don't know. Maybe they'll need us to fight other krogan. Maybe they'll need us to make a delivery. I hear there is a named Thresher Maw here somewhere. Maybe they'll ask us to kill it."

"Oh, joy," muttered Garrus.

"Conrad, as punishment for sneaking in, you're on head butt duty," Shepard declared, as the blond man turned around in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked, dreading the answer a little.

"If a krogan is being uppity, you need to hit his head with your head to assert dominance. I don't like to do it because my brain is too valuable to risk. I wish I had Jenkins. He'd be good at it."

"Still in a coma," explained Kaidan.

"Sad."

With the _Maxson_ parked alongside several others, less shiny vessels, Shepard's party exited the oblong docking bay to find themselves in the city-forest of First Grove.

Humans and krogan typically got along pretty well. Aside from the obvious similarities in lifestyle and history, the major reason for this was the Harold tree. A plant with a complicated and bizarre backstory, it could grow in any soil, no matter how dry, toxic, or radioactive. Millions of these trees now grew on Tuchanka, slowly restoring life to the once-barren landscape.

The Harold trees weren't conventionally pretty, but they had a kind of brutal beauty to them which Shepard's party couldn't help but notice as they walked the worked stone pathway. Other pathways led off in other directions, to the market, the metallurgy shops, the living complexes. Krogan went in and out of fabricated buildings and then shuffled along, slowly yet briskly, chatting about this and that, reasonably placid conversations only occasionally interrupted by a loud guffaw or a hearty chest pound.

"I wonder if the Primarchs know about this," muttered Garrus, looking at a kakliosaur pulling a cart filled with varren cages.

"I'm sure they do," said Shepard.

"Well, yeah, obviously they know intellectually. But I wonder if they _know_. How it looks. How it sounds. How it _feels_. I think if they know, then right now they're either hopeful…or worried."

"Try going for hopeful," Shepard advised. "It feels better."

"Right. I'll be sure to let them know. And where exactly are we going?"

Shepard stayed silent for a couple more seconds as the party finally exited tree cover, looking up at an enormous gleaming pyramid.

"There. We go up there," she explained.

* * *

"Even the Citadel Council doesn't make you climb _this_ many steps to show you how important they are," said Garrus, lightly panting.

"Maybe the krogan just like the view," suggested Shepard, turning around.

Now that they were near the top of the pyramid, the view was indeed impressive. First Grove was beneath them, looking like a green octopus. Beyond the forest the trees stopped growing wild and formed a neat checkerboard. It was a classic planting technique meant to prevent soil erosion by creating barriers to wind carrying the soil off as dust and binding it in place with tree roots. Though most of Tuchanka was still an empty wasteland, after several decades of management the area immediately adjacent to the First Grove could now support farms.

Finally at the top, Shepard found herself in a brief argument with the six krogan guarding the door.

"You really should get an appointment next time," pointed out the door guard. "It's not usually a good idea to let random people off the street in to see the king."

"He'll want to see me," Shepard assured him.

"Yeah? Well, you'd better hope so, because if he doesn't, things won't end well for you."

Shepard looked from the krogan to Conrad, then shrugged and let it go as she forged ahead.

The krogan leader, Urdnot Wrex, reclined on a metal throne built to accommodate a krogan's frame, surrounded by several guards. And he looked like he could take them all in a fight and win. Even though his armor looked ancient compared to theirs, his battle-scarred face had an expression of casual power that his guards couldn't hope to match with their most ferocious scowls. Wrex himself didn't scowl. If fact, his expression was closer to a smile as he stared at Shepard and got right to the point.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Shepard. And I'm here to offer you a favor."

"Yeah? What makes you think I need something from you?" asked Wrex, studying her.

"There is always something someone needs from me. They need someone killed or rescued or something found, a device repaired, a project managed, a disease cured. So," Shepard spread her arms in an all-encompassing gesture, "What wish can I grant you today?"

Wrex looked at her for a minute before raising one of his hands and slamming it against an armrest.

"You know something, Shepard? I like you."

Wrex grinned like a shark and motioned Shepard to come closer.

"You know why I like you? Because you're not just offering your help because the Alliance wants to buddy up with me or because there's some secret test you want to do here. I can see it in your eyes. Deep down, you just really want to fight something on Tuchanka."

Shepard nodded sheepishly.

"As it happens, there _is_ something you can do for me, and it has to do with the other reason I like you: you're a human. And humans gave us the greatest possible gift. And no it wasn't the trees, even though the trees _are_ nice. No, what you did for us was much better: you made us look bad."

"Yes. We did," Shepard nodded, as if confirming something patently obvious. One of the guards glared at her. She looked back and gave him a pleasant smile. Wrex guffawed.

"Right? There we were sitting on a nuked planet with wildlife that can eat an army alive and a virus messing everything up for us and suddenly humans come onto the scene, with all the same problems plus being tiny and squishy. But you didn't let that stop you. You got your shit together and rebuilt your civilization. I tried that once before, but it got too hard, so I quit and went back to pissing away my life as a mercenary. After I heard about what the humans did? I took the first ship home and got back to work. Because as long as Earth was recovering and Tuchanka wasn't? The krogan looked bad, and _I_ looked bad."

Wrex got up from his throne, stretching out as he approached Shepard with a conspiratorial look in his eyes.

"And now? You can help me make a few more krogan look bad."

* * *

"So, what did the High Mucky-Muck want from you?" asked Ashley.

"Two things," answered Shepard. "Thing one is krogan mercenaries. Many krogan left Tuchanka to sell their strength to the highest bidder, and Wrex wants them back here. So if there's something I can do to persuade or force them to return, I get credits."

"So, hassle the most aggressive, ambitious, or stubborn krogan with no provocation. Got it," Ashley replied sarcastically.

"And thing two is there's a krogan clan he wants me to check up on. He thinks they're making kroglodytes."

"Do I want to know?" asked Ashley.

"Krogan dipped in FEV," explained Kaidan.

"That makes _humans_ big, green, and sterile. What could it possibly do to krogan?"

"Bigger. Greener. Probably more sterile," answered Shepard, checking her omnitool. "Also? Stupid and hyper aggressive. A few stay smart enough to pull a trigger and calm enough not to do it all the time, but most are just like wild animals. If someone's making them, they're either killing most of their subjects or keeping a zoo full of crazy at their base."

"So we get to go fight superkrogan. Are you sure it's too late to go undercover as janitors?" asked Ashley.

"You don't want to do that. Tuchanka has too much dust. Cleaning this place would be much harder than fighting some monsters," Shepard answered sagely.

"Fine. You're the boss. Just…tell me where to point my gun."

"Where _are_ we going?" asked Tali. "Do we fight the kroglodytes first, or look into Benezia's daughter?"

"First the second than the first, I think," answered Shepard. "But first we go see who else want what."

"Excuse me?"

"Come along. You'll see."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Tali complained.

"You're right," Shepard furrowed her brow. "We'll cover more ground if we split up."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, that's because you have a bad attitude. And so does Ashley. The two of you can be together. Garrus, Kaidan, you're together too. I'm taking Conrad," she put her arm around the blonde-haired man, causing him to flinch. "Ready? Break!"

* * *

"Biotic varren," Kaidan looked at the creature inside the tiny cage skeptically.

"Yeah. Look."

The krogan took a long stick and poked the grey-green varren through the bars of the cage. The creature became enveloped by a field of blue as it biotically tore the stick from the krogan's hands and snapped it against the bars.

"Do you realize what this means?" the krogan demanded.

"You can make a mint at the varren fighting ring?" suggested Garrus.

"No. Biotic varren get their own category," the krogan grumbled. "But I meant the larger scheme of things. Much, much larger. Where does a varren find enough eezo to grow up as a biotic?"

"I'm sensing that you already know the answer to that," Garrus stared the krogan down.

"You're damn right I do. Wrex has the volus shipping in eezo from all over the place. Now, _maybe_ the occasional container gets dropped, eezo gets scattered, and we end up with biotic varren. Or _maybe_ someone's dropping the containers on purpose because biotic varren also mean biotic krogan. Wrex already has the farms, the biggest spaceport, the diplomacy, and the closest thing to a real army this planet has. If he had a bunch of extra biotics, his rule would be that much more secure."

"So you think Wrex is spreading eezo around to get a bunch of biotic children?" asked Garrus.

"He wouldn't be the first," muttered Kaidan.

"I'm just saying that Wrex has the means and the motive," explained the krogan. "And if he were doing this, he might think that things would go easier if some people were out of the loop. And I don't plan to be one of them."

* * *

"That's right. A thousand pyjaks. Bring me their heads and I'll find a way to reward you."

"You know," Ashley gave Tali a conspiratorial glance, "If you'd rather not spend the next couple days walking through the jungle decapitating monkeys, we don't _have_ to tell Shepard about this particular request."

"What request?" asked Tali, her voice full of modulated innocence.

"We should hang out more," Ashley suggested, beginning to smile.

"You know, I'm standing right here."

The girls turned to the would-be quest giver and gave him a cold look.

"Well, fine then! I'll go kill my own pyjaks."

"What _do_ you want to do?" asked Ashley. "I don't think Shepard will let us back onto the ship unless we bring back _something_."

"We should find an electronics shop," suggested Tali. "Or maybe a used car lot. If I can just repair something, Shepard will likely accept it. She may even commend us for showing initiative."

Ashley nodded and the girls took off in search of something mechanical to tinker with.

* * *

"Is this really okay?" asked Conrad. "The others are out looking for work. Shouldn't we be?"

"Work will find me," Shepard said. "It always does. Besides, this is important too."

Shepard was leading Conrad down a wood-and-rope pathway just below the tree canopy, crossing the busy streets below. There was less activity up on this level, though a few krogan were still seen.

"I try to get to know everyone in my party," Shepard explained. "You're new, so I haven't had a lot of face time with you. Now we fix that."

"Oh. Well, that's…great! I always dreamed of something like this!" Conrad admitted. "Walking on a distant world, gun at my side, talking to…well, to you!"

"So? Talk. Besides me and xenotech, what else do you like?"

"Oh. Well, I always liked adventure stories. I mean, obviously, right?" Conrad smiled nervously. "And space. Not so much the ships or the aliens as all the weird astronomical stuff. The physical phenomena that would be impossible to replicate on Earth because they need a supernova going off next to a black hole to happen. Oh, and also I love kids. For some reason I always seem to get along with them."

"That's nice. I like animals. And history. I did my final paper on the role of brahmin in post-Hoover Dam history of the North California Republic. There is a lot of research on the _pre_-Hoover Dam period because _obviously_ there is, but most people lose interest after it stops being _the_ industry. But you know, it had a lot of influence in the middle period too, especially in context of land development."

"And you like helping people, right?"

"I really do," Shepard nodded. "I like being _good_. When I'm being an adventurer I get to help people and the people I shoot are almost always bad people. When I'm a soldier, I have to shoot whoever's on the other side. If you ever do end up doing this under someone other than me, make sure you believe in what you fight for, because you might end up killing a lot of people who aren't bad."

"It sounds like you don't enjoy being a soldier."

"No, I do. I mean, war is glorious. When you're in the middle of a firefight and you kill someone? There is no other feeling like it. But you can't turn it off. You can't say 'today I won't wear armor outside because I won't get shot at' because that's not your choice. I don't have control over many aspects of my life."

"But it's still fun, right?" asked Conrad.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. Speaking of," Shepard pointed down.

"There's some kind of a commotion," Conrad observed, perhaps not realizing that was Shepard's whole point. "People are fighting."

"Here we go," said Shepard, jumping over the railing.

* * *

"You know," said Kaidan. "If Shepard were handling this case, she'd probably have us break into Urdnot Wrex's chambers."

"And she'd probably find a datapad of all his eezo-related activities," agreed Garrus. "But somehow I get the feeling that if you and I tried that, the results would be different."

"I'm not sure I'm prepared to believe that."

"Relax, I'm kidding. Well, mostly," Garrus hedged. "The point is, we have to do this _our_ way, just like Shepard does things _her_ way."

"Like at the Citadel. Right. I'll start by going on a trawl for any records of missing eezo or engine explosions. Krogan records are probably spotty, but it's better than nothing."

"I'll cross-reference it with their children's facilities."

Kaidan winced and then nodded wordlessly. If you _were_ going to spill eezo on your own population, doing it near children made the most sense. The chance of successfully giving one of them powers was much higher and you'd have years to indoctrinate them before someone else came along and offered them a better deal.

It was why Kaidan privately hoped they were on a wild goose chase. Life was bound to be hard enough for a krogan child without adding a sudden, traumatic awakening of biotic powers and close government scrutiny into the mix.

Meanwhile Garrus had some thoughts of his own to contribute.

"If we were back on the Citadel, this would be easy. Once we got done with this part, we could just find the nearest sleazy bar and I'd lean on people until they gave me a name. But I'm not sure if I can lean on an untamed krogan hard enough for them to notice and I'm not sure Wrex's agents would be so easy to find. He didn't get to go from mercenary to king by being easy to outmaneuver."

"So we go deeper," suggested Kaidan.

"What do you have in mind?"

"We get more data. We create an algorithm to track down his potential agents. We trace every part of every eezo transport to see if it could be faulty. We figure out if using explosives to spread eezo dust is economical. We track down the beginnings of the biotic varren division. I don't think we can do this on omnitools. I'll need Maxson's main servers and we may have to remotely hack some computing grids too."

Garrus looked at Kaidan's burning eyes and did the turian version of a smile.

* * *

"You really think fixing a car will get Shepard off your case?" asked Ashley.

"I think it will," answered Tali. "Shepard's been looking up my people, so I looked up hers."

"Humans?"

"Couriers. All the way back to the first one. He was part of a team with three different mechanics on it. Together they repaired a solar power station and a rocket and the first of your Eyebots. I'm sure Shepard will be very happy if we fix something."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure how good I'll be at that," admitted Ashley. "It might have been better if Shepard paired you up with Kaidan instead."

"I'll teach you! Come on, it will be fun."

Her enthusiasm aside, privately Tali was going crazy trying to figure out how to do this. If she was back on the Migrant Fleet, she could just wander into any workshop or engine room and start helping out, and nobody would say anything. But things were different out here in the wider galaxy and krogan could be kind of intimidating. Her mind raced through a dozen complicated plans before she asked herself a simple question: What would Shepard do?

"My name is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. I'm here to solve all your problems."

Tali held the pose – shoulders wide, hands on hips – and was very grateful that her helmet concealed her expression as the three krogan in the garage looked up at her. One in particular, old even for a krogan, face riddled with old scars and burns, seemed to have an appraising version of a sneer on his face.

"What kind of problems?" he finally asked, approaching her.

"Mechanical problems!" Tali declared, and began walking, sidestepping the old krogan before he could manage to loom over her. "Look, I know my way around a workshop, so I know there's something here you can't fix. You've never been able to fix it. But at this point you've invested so much time and effort into it you can't just throw it out or scrap it for parts. You're going to fix it if it kills you. Well, I'm here to save your lives!"

"Really," the krogan rumbled. "You're that good?"

"I'm. That. Good."

Tali discreetly wiped her forehead on a small sponge built into her helmet's inside as she pretended to stare down the krogan. After a moment's time he seemed to make a decision.

"Fine. Let's go."

With the gait of a bulldozer he passed by the vehicles hauled up into mid-air for inspection and reached the garage's back door. Placing his wide palm against it, he opened the way to an enormous junkyard overflowing with heaps of metal.

"You think being a quarian means you can fix anything?"

"I think being _me_ lets me fix anything," Tali countered. The lines came easier and easier with each one she delivered.

"Okay then. Take a look at this thing," the krogan declared, grabbing the edge of a tarp and pulling it away.

"This was made before the war," he declared, gesturing at the mechanical monstrosity he'd had hidden away. "The big one. The reason you can't breathe without inhaling dust. Who _knows_ what happened to it then, but it hasn't run right since. Generations of krogan mechanics tried to fix it. Legend says a previous chief mechanic got it to work during the krogan rebellions by adding Prothean parts, but then he tried firing the main gun and it hasn't moved since. You want to be the best? Fix this. You can use anything you find in this yard or the spare parts closet. You can use any tool in the garage. You can take apart the customers' cars if you have to. But when you _can't_ fix it? We might have a problem."

"Ashley?" Tali turned to her friend, her voice not breaking a single bit, "Get me a blowtorch and pay attention. I'm going to teach you about cutting armor."

* * *

Kaidan's job had not been easy. Krogan were not, by and large, fans of bureaucracy. If something broke they just went out and got someone to fix it instead of filing a work order in triplicate. Which probably made their lives a lot easier, but meant that if an engine blew up it was impossible to tell whether it had been in perfect working condition or held together by string and prayer. There were gaps everywhere.

Still, a few things had become obvious.

First of all, half of First Grove was underground. Before it became First Grove, it was just another krogan city-state shielding itself from the never-ending dusty winds. The treeline broke the wind's teeth and captured the dust, slowly transforming it back into a nutritious soil covering, and allowing krogan to come out and live upstairs. But most of the subterranean architecture remained intact. It was used for storage, residential quarters for the less well-off segments of the population, and – vitally – children's crèches.

You _couldn't_ get eezo onto the children just by blowing up a spaceship or dropping a crate, because they were housed in hardened subterranean forts with high security and the best air filters blood money could buy. And even if you could, the patterns didn't match up.

No, _if_ Wrex was trying to turn children into biotics, he'd be doing it another way. Food additives or even the occasional shot would probably be the more reliable approach anyway. But it wouldn't create biotic varren. And it wouldn't account for the systematic mismatches in records, the higher than expected accident rate, some floating forum threads…someone was clearly moving large-ish quantities of eezo around, and if it wasn't Wrex, Kaidan wanted to know who it was.

Hence the warehouse.

He and Garrus were perched in the rafters, waiting for someone to show up. He had no idea how many people could be expected here normally, but his impromptu supercomputing grid had tracked down the omnitools of everyone even tangentially related to this location and sent the kind of messages that would encourage _someone_ to come check up on things.

Of course there was every chance that they'd show up with a bunch of angry, well-armed krogan. If that happened, getting in the first punch would be important.

"Crates?" he asked, subvocalizing into his helmet and letting the computers sort it out and carry it to Garrus.

"Some of them are pure eezo. The others aren't, I think. Either they contain the payment or the end product of something made with eezo."

"Like what?"

"Almost anything, obviously, but done in secrecy like this? Guns or drugs."

"Let's hope it's drugs," suggested Kaidan.

"Let's not. They'll have guns no matter what, but some of the drugs you can make with eezo… they'll kill you in the long run, but in the short run? They might just kill _us_ instead."

Kaidan nodded. Then, hearing the whoosh of an opening door, he raised a finger to his helmet's plate and looked down the sights of his gun again.

* * *

Tali started out with five robots and an Ashley. By now she had no idea how many little helpers were running, floating, and zipping all around her.

It had seemed like such a logical progression at the time. Having followed Shepard's advice, she spent most of her transit time to Tuchanka practicing robotics. As it turned out, Shepard had a lot of damaged Eyebots lying around and while it would have been nearly impossible to turn them into war machines again, making them into small floating assistants was the height of simplicity.

She released them here, to help carry tools and look through the parts. Then she found she needed some heavier-duty bots to look through the piles, so she rigged up a couple with chassis she found in the junkyard and some spare wiring. Then even they weren't enough to move the engine block, and it was just easier to give it little mechanical spider legs and a processor so it could move _itself_. Tali found that making sure each part could move under its own power really made the mix and matching faster, especially once she programmed the robots to build more robots without her direct intervention.

Around now she was wondering if she was creating the next geth. But putting down the next robot revolution could wait until the mystery machine was fully functional.

"The easiest thing would be to throw out most of this stuff and build a whole new vehicle under the armor. But that would be cheating. We'll be using as many of these parts as we can manage, prioritizing the oldest ones."

"You're making things hard on yourself for no reason. You know that, right?" asked Ashley.

"You wouldn't understand. It's a mechanic thing."

"I understand more than you think. Pointless challenges and ego inflating rituals are basically ninety percent of being a garrison soldier."

"Sorry if I'm not teaching you much. When I made the offer I didn't expect them to have anything this complex. I should have realized."

"It's okay. To be honest, I'm not all that interested in actually learning the process. I'm having fun watching you work, though."

"Oh. Good."

Tali stared back at the machine. She almost had it. It was like putting together an anagram – first she had to jumble the available parts up until something jumped out at her, and then she could proceed from there systematically. She had a couple different designs in mind already, but she decided that as an additional self-imposed challenge she would complete this task _without_ taking apart the customers' cars. She just had to finish sorting through the junkyard. Catalogue all the parts that were whole or that could be repaired. Maybe sort them into neat piles. She could use some of the scrap metal for shelving…

"Hey!"

Tali turned her head to look at the krogan from earlier. The master mechanic with the messed-up face.

"If you actually manage this, could you make sure that the machine isn't made of robots?"

"Oh. Are you sure? Because I was thinking that a modular design would be good. That way it could break apart into a swarm if you needed it to…"

"We won't need it to. Just try to keep it as normal as you can, okay? We don't need it to be impossible to repair again."

"Mmm," Tali made a noise he chose to interpret as agreement. This requirement would mean more work for her in the short run, but it actually made the design a lot simpler. Really, if she was willing to forego the turbo option, she practically had all the parts she needed already…

"All right, Ash. If you think this was fun before, watch this!"

Tali pressed a button on her omnitool and the robots descended on the remains of the vehicle, each one bearing a different part.

* * *

Seven krogan. Five volus. An asari. Two humans, one of them in power armor. Probably the leader of the non-krogan contingent. The asari looked like merc types. And who knew with a volus.

Kaidan considered their odds if someone happened to look up. If anyone could kill a krogan in one shot, through armor and shields, it was Garrus. But the sniper rifle took a while to reload and if everyone started shooting back at once, it would be hard to dodge while straddling a rafter. He eyed the boxes, wondering. If they held weapons, they'd be pretty useless unless someone was in the business of shipping pre-loaded guns. Drugs, though? If nothing else, they'd make an excellent smokescreen.

All things considered, he didn't like those odds. It was time to get some better ones.

He turned his efforts to the power armor. An advanced suit like that was tremendously powerful. It could withstand a grazing hit from a tank's main weapon or a full-on barrage from most light arms even with its shields down. It had built-in weapons that could take out a small squad, and a massive power supply that could be used to temporarily boost the performance of its various subsystems, including shields and any heavy energy weapons the armored soldier might pick up. It also made the wearer strong enough to go toe to toe with any krogan in the galaxy. And yet…there was a reason why power armored troops had gone from secret weapon to glorified crowd control.

Kaidan raised his omnitool and considered his options. Making something short circuit or overheat was the easy route. It's what engineers _normally_ did when faced with power armor. Only slightly more difficult were the servos. If one of them were made to move suddenly and dramatically enough, it could break a limb. The right type of sabotage could take out the optics or the shields. But none of that was really what Kaidan was after. He didn't just want a way to take out the power armored human – he wanted a way to even the very long odds the party was facing. It was time to take a lesson from Jack and The Seven Mutants. Kaidan sent his attack worms into the suit, deftly guiding them around the defenses and to the weapon systems and trying to concentrate on the conversation going on below at the same time. He still had a case to solve.

"Get it together, Brul!" boomed the power armored human. "I want to find out if we're going to need to move this stuff or blow it up."

"We're not blowing it up," rumbled one of the krogan. Kaidan assumed Garrus made a note to kill that one first.

"If this turns out to be connected to Wrex? Yes, we're absolutely blowing it up and building a fast food restaurant on the remains."

The krogan gave what Kaidan supposed was the krogan version of a snort. Kaidan quietly willed him to keep talking. Thankfully, he got his wish.

"Whatever we end up doing, you'd better not screw me on this, Sam."

"I'm the one who's in a position to get screwed here. I could have run this operation from any rock in the galaxy. _You_ were the one who persuaded me that you could hide anything we did on Tuchanka so we could take advantage of the infrastructure."

"And you've been taking advantage of it ever since."

"Yes I have. And now I'm going to stop. I'm going to stick around exactly long enough to find out if we have time to sell what we already manufactured and maybe liquidate our equipment. And either way that works out, we're going to settle up and then I'm going to set up somewhere else."

There was a moment of silence as the work seemed to slow down and the krogan and humans looked up, surreptitiously eyeing each other.

"I trust you followed my advice about finances?" the human continued. "Because if you tell me you're broke and you _need_ these last sales to keep going, we're going to have a problem."

"No. Losing out on this one score won't wipe us out. But it won't make my crew happy about losing out on a steady stream of income. So if you _are_ planning to start over, I hope your plans include us."

"What do you have to offer?" Sam asked aggressively. "You had expertise and connections here. Somewhere else you'd just be some warm bodies holding guns. I'm not sure I want to spend partner level money on a security team. Especially not one who failed to keep _this_ place secure."

Kaidan could practically feel the tension in the air. Things weren't quite bad enough to cause an armed falling out, but they were quickly approaching that point, and he prepared to throw one last turn on that wheel. His finger hovered over the omnitool as he waited for his perfect moment.

_Just about…_

Suddenly the suit fired several mini-missiles out of its shoulder. Kaidan stared at his omnitool in confusion. _He_ was going to do that. He grumbled internally about bad guys never giving him a chance to show off.

The humans and volus took this as their signal to fire on the krogan. The krogan were confused for a second but started firing right back. The lone asari calmly stepped behind a box and began making her way out of the room.

Just as Kaidan began to think the problem might take care of itself, a stray shot hit his girder. He had just enough time to think something glib about karmic balance as he hit the hard floor face-first. He took back the 'balance' part as he looked up to see a confused-shifting-to-angry krogan towering over him.

The krogan's head exploded from Garrus's sniper bullet and Kaidan had a moment to stand up and orient himself. Krogan, human, human, krogan, volus – Sam. The power-armored smuggler was staring straight at him. Kaidan considered going for his omnitool and trying to jam as many weapons systems as he could, but decided it would take too long. Instead he reached out with his biotics and tossed one of the crates at Sam.

The crate crashed straight into the power armored figure, practically exploding in the process. Kaidan was actually surprised – he'd expected to hit the shields. He supposed some enterprising krogan must have whittled them down and he happened to catch the human leader while they were still regenerating.

While he was thinking that, Sam staggered back up, literally covered by brownish-red dust. The armored helmet was gone, presumably cracked by the crate, and a mane of wild red hair took its place. Kaidan realized that females could technically be named Sam too, but only as a point of curiosity – it certainly didn't make him less likely to shoot her.

The remains of her power armor flying apart like shrapnel as her body was enveloped by a field of blue energy did slow him down a little, though. He recovered momentarily and unloaded his weapon, but the bullets just bounced off the newly-formed biotic barrier.

_Of course_, he thought. _Why _wouldn't _I give a biotic a face full of eezo based drugs right after knocking off the part of her suit that filtered air?_

He ran for it as more crates took to the air.

* * *

"…Aaand done!"

Tali stepped back, admiring her handywork. From outside the great land hulk looked almost the same as before. She might have spontaneously agreed to fix machines for these people but she hadn't signed up to _polish_ things. The inside, though…

Tali learned about contemporary krogan vehicles by examining the ones being repaired in the garage, but it quickly became obvious that the ancient design was more complex than that. She had to combine the krogan designs with human ones. Fortunately Chief Engineer Adams had shown her the innards of a crazy climbing tank and in the process told her about some of its predecessors, including pre-War cars powered by portable atomic generators and Wasteland vehicles cobbled together from spare parts and the occasional organic component. The hybrid design was about 90% complete and Tali was able to infer the rest by looking at Tuchanka's environment and imagining the kind of assemblies she'd want to deal with it. After that it was basically straightforward.

"Does it work?" asked Ashley, staring at the bulky machine.

Tali felt vaguely offended by the question but reminded herself that Ashley was not a quarian or a mechanic and that instead of explaining the social protocols she could prove her mettle the _fun_ way.

"Only one way to find out!" she declared. "Come on, everyone. We're going for a ride."

Fifteen minutes and several arguments later, Ashley and the krogan were seated in a manner that was more or less acceptable to everyone, with Ashley retaining the position at the gun's controls. Tali pulled the appropriate levels and the refurbished war machine roared its way out of the junkyard and onto a road.

"I like it!" one of the krogan declared. "It's not too quiet."

"A good machine should always let you know it's working," agreed Tali. "Keep an eye for a good target. I'm sure Ashley would like to test out the guns."

"Just look for a pyjak that's not standing near anything important."

"Hey," interrupted Ashley. "How about _that?_"

Up ahead the ground exploded as a woman covered in a biotic-blue energy field rose into the sky. Crackling with energy, she biotically lifted a huge dumpster and threw it back down into the underground pit she came from.

"We _should_ make sure she's the bad guy," hedged Tali. "But you'd better target her just in case."

* * *

"How is she not dead yet?" demanded Garrus.

"I don't know. I'm not sure _what_ she's breathing in, but it _has_ to be several times the lethal dose. Her nervous system is definitely going to fail!" answered Kaidan.

"Any second now," he added, barely dodging a forklift.

"Kaidan? Is that you?" an autotuned voice sounded in his helmet. "Are you here? Do you need any help?"

"Tali? What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. I have a tank."

"Oh. Some help would be very welcome then. There's a majorly overclocked biotic trying to kill us. Any chance you could blast her out of the skies for us?"

"Already on it."

Tali turned her hand slightly to look at Ashley who didn't need an order. She pressed a large red button, and the newly-restored cannon unleashed a glowing blue shell.

The shell began to slow before reaching its target and totally stopped, frozen in mid-air, a dozen feet before Sam's outstretched palm. It dropped to the ground a moment later. Ashley was already following up with a large caliber machine gun, but the bullets bounced off as if they were frozen peas.

The flying biotic retaliated by throwing a crate at the tank. The impact rocked the vehicle but the armor absorbed the damage. The crate shattered, spilling computer parts everywhere.

Tali retaliated, unleashing the ace up her sleeve. The hatch popped open and a swarm of buzzing robots flew out, spreading out too thin to be caught by any one thrown object. They approached Sam, wheeling and zigzagging as they did. She responded by throwing out a large ball of biotic force. Catching most of the swarm in its gravitational pull, the singularity compressed the hapless robots to scrap metal. The remaining bots were being swatted out by sudden changes in their acceleration as they fell to earth or flew off into the horizon one by one. Ashley fired another shell and was again unsuccessful.

A blue field enveloped the tank itself. And though the great weight of the semi-ancient contraption seemed to strain even Sam's boosted biotics, the tank began to rise into the air, which spelled definite trouble in its passengers' near future.

At that moment Shepard fell from the sky.

She caught Sam on her way down and the two women fell about ten feet as they intertwined. With her arm around Sam's shoulder, Shepard pressed her gun to Sam's temple and pulled the trigger. The blue light enveloping them blinked out as Sam's body finally gave out and Shepard plunged back to the ground. She let go of the corpse and used it as a springboard to slow her freefall and at the last possible second was enveloped by yet another blue aura as Kaidan's biotics caught her and lowered her safely to the ground.

"I can't leave you people alone. Why is that?"

Kaidan and Garrus contrived to look sheepish while Tali quietly muttered something about just trying to help. But Shepard had already moved on, resuming her conversation with Conrad.

"Fight's over. I won. Jump down here."

She paused as he replied.

"No, it's okay. Kaidan is down here. Just jump."

"Please just let him walk," begged Kaidan.

Shepard shot him a dirty look. He stood up under it and refused to lower his own gaze. After several seconds Shepard relented.

"Fine. Conrad, you may go back to the ship. You will all come to the ship too. There is a story here I want to hear."


	5. Chapter 5

It bothered Conrad that Shepard wasn't saying anything. She just stared at him with her unusually intent eyes, head slightly askew, judging his every move. Conrad tried not to let it get to him as he raised the gun and focused on controlling the shaking of his hands. V.A.T.S. was providing targeting assistance, highlighting "vulnerable zones," and even speeding up whatever meager reflexes he possessed. But none of that would help if he couldn't at least point the gun at the target. He looked down the sights and squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times. And then he looked up to gauge Shepard's reaction so quickly he forgot to look at the target to see the results of his practice with his own eyes.

It would be awkward to look away once he started staring, but trying to figure out how well he did by looking at Shepard was proving harder than he thought. Her face was the very definition of "inscrutable." He almost gave in and turned his head when she finally spoke.

"You're doing it wrong."

"Um…" Conrad answered.

"You're looking at the gun a lot. You can't do that. It makes you move slower, telegraphs your actions, and makes it harder to learn how to use two guns at once."

"Okay…" he temporized, sure the advice sounded wrong, but not about to argue with Shepard, "How do I?"

"Like this."

She _flowed_ behind him, going from rigid to fluid in an imperceptible motion. Before he could so much as twitch, her left hand was draped over his eyes, she was breathing in his ear, and her right hand's fingers were curling around his, moving them around as she adjusted his grip on the pistol and pulled his arm closer to his hip.

"Focus on the feel of the gun in your hand. The weight distribution. Look, I'm going to raise the barrel a little," Conrad felt the gun shift slightly, "and now I'll lower it. Got it?"

"Um…"

Shepard took her hands off him, allowing him to finally stare at the target. His results had apparently been thoroughly average, landing within the general target area but nowhere near the bullseye.

"You should be able to tell the barrel's position from the way it feels in your hand. Make a mental line between the barrel and the target."

"Uh…"

"Do it," she said, lips next to his ear. He had no choice but to fire.

His bullets didn't hit the target. They didn't even hit the _wall_, instead bouncing off the ceiling and then falling to the floor.

"You're _still_ doing it wrong," Shepard declared, sounding disappointed.

"No offense, but I think your advice is what's wrong."

"Really."

Shepard visibly put her left hand over her own eyes, effortlessly grabbed the gun from Conrad's hand, spun on her heel three times in a row, landed facing away from the targets, hand still covering her eyes, extended the gun, and made three holes in the heads of three separate targets. Then she stared at him, as if silently repeating her 'Really.'

"Okay, so let me rephrase that," offered Conrad. "I think your advice is wrong _for me_. Obviously it works for you, but I just don't think it's how _normal_ people shoot."

"Probably not," Shepard conceded. "Never mind. Maybe I can get Captain Anderson to teach you. He's probably bored."

"I wish I could see the world like you see it. What is it like?"

"It's an experience."

Conrad nodded, feigning understanding. Shepard was inscrutable. And she was also _amazing_. Her reputation, the vids, the countless pieces of trivia on forums – nothing had prepared Conrad for meeting her in person. He was completely star struck. But he couldn't give into that feeling. If he hoped to remain by her side, he had to act normal and be useful.

"We're going to be looking for Benezia's daughter next, right?"

"We are. You aren't," Shepard answered bluntly.

"But…but I can help!" he protested.

"You've had one half of a shooting lesson."

"And I did okay!"

"I have access to any number of soldiers who can do better than okay. I won't ask you to fight until you _can_ fight."

"But…" muttered Conrad, knowing he was beaten.

"I didn't let you stay because I needed another gun hand. I chose you for your mind," Shepard poked his forehead, "and your heart," she continued, sliding her finger down his face and neck until it came to rest against his chest.

Conrad gulped.

"You are very enthusiastic and I like that," Shepard continued. "But you need to know your limits before you can hope to exceed them."

"All right. I get it."

"It's okay. As soon as I find some xenotechnology with a dark energy component, it will be your time to shine."

That actually made Conrad smile.

"Count on it."

* * *

"The Bandit. The Hoarder. The Slaver, the Drug Dealer and the Racist. The Savage and the Fanatic. These are the Seven Enemies of Civilization," explained Shepard. "But it's more complicated than that. For example, the Bandit can be a literal raider but also a politician taking bribes or a clerk shortchanging the customers. Anyone who steals from the public good to advance their own desires."

"The quarians have a similar system," volunteered Tali. "The whole point of the Pilgrimage is to root out those who would be a burden to the Fleet. And those who commit egregious crimes are punished by exile."

"We punish them by incarceration. Sometimes. When resources are scarce, we use more permanent methods."

"What about monsters?" asked Garrus. "Living on a planet like yours, I would think some sort of a fire breathing spiky lizard would be your main concern."

"Creatures that lack human-like intelligence don't have the moral agency to be enemies," clarified Shepard. "They're an obstacle."

"It's strange that drug dealers get their own spot on the list," said Kaidan. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling great about them right at this moment, but it's a very specific crime to write into your Scriptures, isn't it?"

"No. It's special because at the beginning the crime is voluntary. The Bandit takes things through force or trickery. The Drug Dealer uses seduction. They prey on the prosperity of the community, taking its hard-earned money and resources and giving back substances that destroy minds and bodies and place people into the bondage of addiction. They bring every other crime with them, spreading corruption and violence. They are a special breed of villain."

"It's interesting how your cult and the quarians both have a system of sins revolving entirely around the well-being of the community," said Ashley. "In my religion that's true to some extent, but there is a lot more emphasis on personal behavior. Some of our sins are basically feelings."

"That can be important too," said Shepard. "As far as the Cult of the Vault Dweller is concerned, you're fine if you feel bad feelings and think bad thoughts but never act on them. But very few people are capable of that kind of cognitive dissonance. Usually evil thoughts turn to evil actions sooner or later."

"That's true, I guess," Ashley nodded. "What about you, Garrus? Anything interesting about sin in your religion?"

"Kind of. I'm not a big expert, you understand?"

"That's fine," Ashley motioned for him to go on.

"We believe that groups and places give rise to spirits whose nature reflects the nature of whatever gave them birth. So a group of honorable turians would give rise to a spirit of honor. Then if you found yourself feeling like your honor was lacking you'd try to reconnect to that spirit. Conversely, if too many people acted dishonorably, they would corrupt the spirit. It's part of the reason our discipline is so harsh – we want to keep our spirits as pure as possible."

"So for your people personal behavior is supposed to reflect on the well-being of the community in a very direct way?" asked Shepard. "Sounds like it's a fusion between the two systems."

"Not really. There are a whole lot of subtle distinctions I can't really explain and probably don't understand or know about myself."

"That's how it is with ever belief system, I think," said Shepard.

"Getting back to _your_ belief system," interrupted Ashley. "Are the Parables supposed to help you follow the Scriptures?"

"No, the Parables came first. They're accounts of things revered heroes did when faced with complicated, difficult, or interesting situations. Collecting and preserving them is the core of the Cult's missions. The Scriptures are a collection of commonly agreed upon lessons the community has drawn from the Parables and the world at large, as well as attempts to analyze the role destiny plays in the world. Technically everyone is free to interpret the Parables by themselves and draw their own lessons, but there are commonly accepted interpretations."

"This is all very fascinating," said Kaidan. "But we're here."

"The krogan ruins," Shepard clarified commonly known information. "An archaeologist named Liara T'soni is here trying to discover their version of pre-War history. She's our target."

"Calling her a 'target' sounds so _menacing_," complained Tali. "I thought that for now we just wanted to talk to her?"

"Our goal, then," Shepard corrected herself amiably. "We need to try to find out if she's involved with Benezia, and by extension Saren. But we have no evidence that the answer is yes, and her efforts are important to Urdnot Wrex, so we need to be very careful when interrogating her."

"Calling it 'interrogating' sounds menacing too," complained Tali.

"Still technically the right word," Shepard put her foot down. "Any other questions?"

"Aside from an asari archeologist, what else can we expect to find down there?" asked Kaidan.

"We can't know," answered Shepard. "If Saren is directly involved, geth seem likely. There could also be krogan, either there to threaten Liara or protect her, including from us. And of course there is the possibility that she opened the wrong vault and let out something terrible, or else awakened the guardians of this place."

"Guardians?" asked Kaidan.

"Re-animated mummies of long-dead krogan. Or ancient krogan statues that move under their own power. Or trained bugs that went into deep, deep hibernation. We still can't know."

"Great," muttered Kaidan.

"Let's go!" declared Shepard, oblivious to her team's unease.

* * *

It was hard to know what to make of the ruins. The ancient krogan that built them had had a technologically advanced civilization, on par with earth immediately before the War, and elements of that technology were obvious even to the untrained eye. And yet the walls themselves looked more like something from a time so far before the War that all that was left of it was myth and ancient stone blocks. But maybe that was the answer. Krogan who didn't fall prey to accident or violence lived for hundreds of years. It made sense that they would create their buildings with that kind of timescale in mind. Really, in krogan terms these ruins were from barely a few generations ago. Their tentative exploration was no different from humans' first careful forays back into the ruins of New York, Washington, or New Orleans.

There was one other interesting element present, sticking out like a sore thumb. The last of the Shroud Towers, now simply known as The Shroud, cast its shadow on the long-abandoned site. The salarian-built structure had a very different architectural aesthetic and a very different purpose. But Shepard had no immediate plans to engage with it. Instead she led her team underground, flashlight beams running along stone walls covered by the dust of centuries and the occasional vine.

"Should we be nervous about going into a plant covered ruin?" asked Ashley.

"Come on, Ash," answered Kaidan. "How likely is it that the krogan were conducting genetic experiments at this specific site?"

"I'm just saying, if these vines start swinging away at us, I'm gonna be _pissed_."

"Make sure your filters are working in case of zombifying spores," advised Shepard.

Garrus and Tali exchanged a pained look.

"I don't know what bothers me more," mumbled Tali. "That they're jumping to those sorts of conclusions, or that I wouldn't be surprised if they were right."

"Well, they're way off-base on this one," answered Garrus. "This place isn't a genetics lab of any kind. It's a temple dedicated to summoning the biggest, baddest Thresher Maw on Tuchanka."

"Ah," nodded Tali. "That does not surprise me either."

Satisfied with getting a reaction from Tali, Garrus turned to his next target.

"What do _you_ think about this place, Shepard? This sort of thing is right up your alley, right?"

Shepard didn't look up from the wall before answering him. She hadn't taken her gaze off of it the entire trip and she'd left a long line of dust-free wall to mark the group's progress, interrupted only in places where she wiped her finger before putting it right back against the stone.

"I have training as a historian, not an archaeologist. 'This sort of thing' has to go through at least two levels of study before it turns into something I can analyze."

"I meant it was up your alley as the kind of person I'm willing to bet has been in ruins before."

"Oh. That. The complex isn't set up as a labyrinth but it's not optimized in terms of space usage either. There are more dead ends than I would expect from a normal building but the rooms aren't decorated in a way that makes me think of storage or bedrooms."

"Temple designs can get pretty crazy, I imagine."

"Yes. They can," Shepard frowned. "_Yes they can!_" she repeated with conviction, suddenly taking her hand off the wall and marching down a side corridor.

The rest of the group hurried to follow her, most of them nervously touching their guns. But nothing attacked them and the journey came to an end as Shepard once again started fingering the wall, this time right under a big design of krogan doing something or other.

"What is happening?" asked Tali.

"I wouldn't know how to read half of those little pictures," said Shepard, running her finger along the design's border. "But some of them are obvious. They use the same thing to designate light that I would."

She triumphantly jabbed her finger into a tiny stone relief of a sun. It gave way and as it did, a large section of the ceiling slid away and a contraction that looked like a huge brass claw holding a large white crystal came down into the room. The crystal lit up, and a bright yellow beam of light shot its way down the corridor.

"What is this?" asked Kaidan suspiciously.

Shepard pressed another relief and the yellow beam changed to blue. She pressed it again and it became red. The corners of her mouth slowly curled up.

* * *

"I can't believe we're still doing this!" complained Kaidan.

He and Garrus were straining to shift a stone block meant for a krogan. Understandably, it was giving them a hard time.

"Aren't you curious?" asked Shepard.

"I was, a little. But that was before we spent an hour messing with projectors and mirrors. And this part's just miserable."

"Look at it this way: after all this effort, whatever we find is bound to be really interesting."

"What if it's not, though?"

"You mean if we find out that the ancient krogan were the kind of people who would build a setup like this and have it lead to absolutely nothing? _That_ will be a very interesting thing to find out."

"I wish Jenkins were here," muttered Kaidan, pressing his shoulder to the block. With a grinding noise it slid another several inches and settled as the pressure plate beneath it gave way.

Shepard was standing up on the room's balcony, comparing the block arrangement to the picture attached to the rail.

"One more!" she called. "Eight-seven to eight-six."

"Fine," said Kaidan. "But this had _better_ be leading us to something important. Come on, girls. Last one."

Tali and Ashley joined the others in pushing the stone block. It wasn't easy for all four of them to push at once, but it did make the thing move faster and in less than a minute there was another click, followed by a dull rumbling as part of the floor began to descend, opening a staircase to an underground chamber.

Shepard flipped over the railing, caught herself on the very edge of the wall, then let herself drop the rest of the way to the ground. She sidled between her teammates as they slowly descended the staircase and was the first to make it to the bottom. Which meant she was also the one who had to abruptly stop to not be cut by the razor-sharp blade popping out of the wall. Another followed a few inches ahead, then another, and another.

"I see," said Shepard as the blades worked their way down the chamber. "There is a lever on the other side. A krogan charging at full speed would have just enough time to cross before being killed. None of us are that fast, but I think I can backtrack and dodge a blade before it reaches the wall. That will give me time to sprint the rest of the way."

Kaidan dramatically lowered his arm, and the lever along with it.

"Of course. The krogan didn't discover Mass Effect until the salarians contacted them," said Shepard. "They wouldn't account for biotics."

"I could also have sent a robot," volunteered Tali.

"…or maybe they just weren't well prepared," admitted Shepard after a moment's thought.

"Come on," said Kaidan. "After all that, I _have_ to see this."

He tried to discretely elbow Shepard out of the way but she dodged the attempt without apparent effort and stayed a step ahead of him as the group entered the final chamber, finding it filled with metal columns. Upon a closer look, each of the columns was made of thousands of thin metal plates covered in small writing.

"This is why they were keeping down here?" asked Kaidan.

"Maybe not originally," answered Shepard. "But if they knew the nuclear war was coming, they might have changed the room's purpose. They used it to preserve some sort of knowledge – either scientific or cultural."

"It makes sense," said Tali. "Electromagnetic radiation would damage any computer recordings."

"And these things won't burn or rot away like most of _our_ books did," added Ashley.

"There's just one thing I don't get," said Garrus. "If they meant to preserve all this for future generations, why the puzzles? Why the traps?"

"Such is the damage done by the Hoarders," said Shepard. "They didn't want to help just anyone, only the people who could think the same way they did and met their standards of physical fitness. But everyone who knew about this place must have died."

"Speaking of not meeting standards," said Kaidan. "Does anyone here know how to read krogan? Or _ancient_ krogan or whatever this language is?"

"I do," a metallic voice reverberated behind them.

Everyone but Shepard wheeled around to see an asari piloting a huge mech with its arms extended towards them.

"What I _don't_ know is what you're all doing here," the asari (presumably Liara the archaeologist) continued.

"Wrex sent us," Ashley lied without missing a beat.

"Why?" the tone was suspicious, but the mech's arms lowered themselves slightly.

"Because Shepard here can find places like this. Can you?" Ashley asked defiantly.

"I have a seismographic sonar. And a mining laser. But…I probably wouldn't have found out how to open this place the _right_ way. So, Wrex sent you?"

Shepard's team responded with enthusiastic nods.

"I _could_ use more help here," admitted the asari, who was almost definitely Liara. "This place turned out to be much bigger than I ever expected."

"We can't stay for long," explained Ashley. "We're just stopping here on our way to Graceland."

"Noooooo," Kaidan moaned under his breath.

"But we'll be happy to do what we can while we're here," continued Ashley, pretending not to hear him.

"All right…I guess," answered Liara. "But I'll be keeping my eye on you."

"By the way, you might have missed it earlier, but the hallway you're standing in is a deathtrap. If we weren't your friends we could have just reactivated it and had your mech sliced apart by a dozen blades."

"Oh," said Liara, the metallic reverb amplifying her chagrin. "I guess we'd better get out of here for now. I'll need to come back and catalogue these writings later – _after_ you're gone."

"Lead the way," said Shepard.

* * *

Liara's camp was in one of the ruins' larger chambers. The thick cables running between several large generators, Liara's tent, industrial mining equipment, overhead lights, and small turrets in the room's corners looked like an emaciated octopus died mid-spasm.

"Looks like you have power to spare," noted Tali.

"It's supposed to be a modular setup," explained Liara. "Just in case the krogan ever send me some actual help instead of getting a passing adventuring party to take a detour. Um, no offense."

"None taken. You've had difficulty getting assistance?"

"Guess how many archaeologists specialize in krogan."

"One?"

"Zero, actually. All my studies were on Protheans. But _everyone_ specializes in Protheans and it's hard to get a good posting, especially if you're only a hundred and eight. This position was wide open and I figured getting paid a small fortune to be the first to uncover the secrets of a lost civilization was better than yet another fight for a grant."

"_Only_ a hundred and eight?" asked Shepard.

"Oh. Sorry. That must sound very strange to a member of a species lucky to live a hundred."

"Humans can live for a very long time if the right kind of virus or radiation makes them something other than human. But the ones who do don't think of themselves as young after a hundred years."

"Yes, I've heard about that. If you excuse my saying so, the things your species has done to itself are fascinating."

"Your species is very interesting too."

"Speaking of things that are interesting," interrupted Garrus. "Do you always do archaeology in a mech?"

"Not at all. This is my first time using one against actual intruders. Normally I'd rely on my biotics to handle a small group of mercenaries or a couple of blood sucking lizards, but I've been warned that things on Tuchanka can be rougher than I'm used to. That's why Wrex gave me the mech."

"Can we go back to the blood sucking lizards?" asked Ashley.

"You're perfectly safe in here," Liara reassured her. "The turrets are set up to take them out if they so much as enter the room."

"What about outside this room?" Ashley's face bore deep suspicion.

"Watch the ceilings."

"I always do," said Shepard.

"She really does," said Ashley. "You'd be surprised."

"Is that how you cracked the secret of the vault?" asked Liara. "You read it on the ceiling?"

Shepard shook her head.

"The walls, actually," she said. "I deducted the room from imaginary foot traffic and then looked at the symbols on the walls."

"Which you couldn't read," said Liara.

"Except the ones with literal meaning. But I could see which ones were buttons connected to hydraulic devices."

"How?"

"They're…different? Maybe slightly upraised but also flatter. There is also a gap that's too small to be seen, but it's there. I don't know how to explain it any better."

"Try?" asked Liara, clearly a little disappointed.

"I can't," admitted Shepard, hanging her head in perdition. "It's been made clear to me that my methods don't work for others."

"I wonder," said Liara. "Do you think I could find the difference if I knew exactly what to look for?"

"It's possible. My eyes aren't special. I see the same things everyone else does. I just notice things you wouldn't."

"Then…I hate to ask, but it could really speed up my work. You see, I could pull the image out of your mind."

"Really?" Shepard cocked her head.

"I realize it must sound very intrusive, but if you concentrated on that image, bringing it to the surface of your mind, I wouldn't need to look at anything else. Again, I normally wouldn't ask, but…"

"It's fine," Shepard interrupted.

"Really?"

"Yes. Do it."

Liara carefully exited the mech, trying not to let her embarrassment show. This type of thing wasn't _inherently_ intimate, but happened in intimate context more often than not. Doing it to a stranger while half a dozen members of assorted races stared at her was pretty awkward. On the other hand, ancient puzzles wouldn't solve themselves, and she couldn't rely on Shepard to do it. So she fought down the embarrassment, placed her hands around Shepard's temples, dove in…

…and found herself lost in a storm. From every side she was assailed by sensations, concepts, memories, and thoughts. For a moment she believed that somehow she'd missed Shepard's surface thoughts and landed somewhere far deeper. But after a moment's orientation she decided that was wrong. This _was_ the fully conscious part of Shepard's brain. That didn't bode well.

She forced her own mind to change the presentation from abstract thought to something more graphic. She felt an imaginary body coalesce around her own thoughform as Shepard's mental processes became silvery, transparent objects of indeterminable shape and size. They flickered with images and sounds, but Liara willed herself not to pay attention to them. She had no desire to invade Shepard's privacy. All she wanted was one particular memory. Liara needed to find a way to locate it soon. All the more so because she could swear she heard _growling_ from somewhere deeper in.

The motion was the key. Most of the things entering the surface of Shepard's mind only stayed around for a few moments before sinking back into the depths. If Shepard was indeed concentrating on that one particular memory as Liara had asked her to, it would remain in the general vicinity. Liara let her imaginary eyes unfocus, perceiving the vista around her visually, but also instinctually. For several seconds she perceived nothing in particular but finally she found a particular fragment that didn't seem to disappear like the others. It flickered and darted, but it stayed at the forefront of Shepard's thoughts. With a feeling of triumph Liara dove at it, touching it with her hand, expecting to find a clear image of a disguised hydraulic button…

…and finding something else entirely.

"My…mother?" she whispered, snapping back to reality.

"I didn't know how to bring it up," admitted Shepard. "This seemed to be the best way."

"My mother…and a rogue specter…and the geth…are trying to end the galaxy?" asked Liara, turning the thought over in her head. "You sincerely believe this. I know you do. It's why you let me see it in your head."

"We also have audio recordings," said Shepard. "I wanted to see your reaction. See what _you_ believed."

"I'm sorry, I don't…I don't know what I'm supposed to do about this."

"You don't have to do anything," said Shepard. "We only needed to see if you were involved, and you're not."

"Yes I am."

Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"My mother is part of a doomsday plot. _Of course_ I'm involved. If you're the ones who are going to stop her, then I'm coming with you."

Shepard kept her gaze on Liara as her team exchanged glances.

"We kept Conrad," said Ashley.

"Are you sure you don't need to finish this expedition?" asked Shepard.

Liara shook her head.

"The krogan waited thousands of years to find out what was in this place. They can wait a little longer."

"Okay," Shepard shrugged. "You can come. How fast can you pack?"

"I have a few personal items to bring. Mostly clothes. The equipment belongs to the krogan, and I'm guessing your ship isn't going to be doing much mining. Should I bring the mech?"

Shepard's face spent several seconds alternating between several expressions, finally settling on mild disappointment.

"Better not," she admitted to herself. "We _have_ a heavy vehicle and I don't want to steal weapons from Wrex. We're already stealing his archaeologist."

"I'd better park it, then," said Liara, heading back to the driver's seat.

But the moment the panel closed, sealing Liara in the bulletproof cabin, the mech's innards hissed. Liara barely had time to cry out as gas flooded the cabin. She pawed at the controls, finding them completely unresponsive. Then she succumbed to the gas, drooping in her chair.

At the same time the mech widened its stance and raised its weapon-laden arms.

"Not good!" declared Kaidan, diving for cover.

The robot advanced. Its left arm spit armor-piercing bullets from a liquid-cooled machine gun. Its right launched a barrage of mini-missiles. The pauldrons on its "shoulders" fired bullets of lower caliber, directing themselves wherever the left arm wasn't firing. Faced with this level of firepower, Shepard's team remained crouched behind some stone blocks.

"I can fix this," Kaidan announced confidently. He activated his omnitool which promptly tried to stab him.

"This is new!" he complained, dodging another attack. After two or three more attempts at skewering him with a holoblade, the omnitool crackled and died.

"It's geth!" announced Tali, fiddling with her own omnitool. "That suit is filled with geth!"

Without a word Shepard tossed a grenade at one of the corner-bound turrets. It exploded just as the other three activated and joined the mech in attacking. One of them had a clear shot at the group. They shot it right back, and about two seconds later hit a vital component, shutting it down. In those two seconds Garrus's shields broke and he slumped over in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Without a word Kaidan rolled over, narrowly dodging a missile, to apply first aid.

It was at that moment that the mining laser came to life and began slowly cutting through the stone blocks. It wasn't destroying them quickly, but it _was_ destroying them, unlike everything the mech was throwing at them. Ashley responded to this development by popping up to plant a bullet in a generator and ducking back down before she could be hit. The generator chuffed and exploded. A moment later the overhead lights winked out.

"Wrong one," said Kaidan, not looking up from Garrus.

"I _know!_" Ashley answered irritably.

Sounds of scraping metal came from down the hall.

"There are more of them," Shepard said calmly. "We have maybe a minute before they enter that door. At that time we need to be on the other side of cover."

"Any brilliant ideas?" demanded Ashley.

"Just one."

With a practiced motion, Shepard threw two more grenades. The first of these was a pulse grenade, emitting a powerful electromagnetic charge. It did exactly nothing to the magnetically shielded mech, but it destroyed any geth who happened to be in transit and momentarily cut off communication between any geth-possessed devices. The second was a standard grenade, exploding several feet short of the mech, buffering its senses with blinding light and deafening sounds. At the precise moment of detonation, Shepard flipped over her stone block and ran toward the mech. As its machine senses recovered and it turned its weaponry on her, she changed the direction of her running, staying just a step ahead of the bullet spray. Then, just as the machine gun was about to catch up with her, it suddenly cut out. The liquid cooling system was choking on garbage code and the gun barrel had overheated. Unlike Kaidan, Tali knew _exactly_ how to attack geth.

Shepard took one, two, three steps toward the mech, her shields taking grazing hits from the various still-functioning guns around the room. Then, just as the mech's built-in flamethrower kicked in, she fell on her back and slid under the flames and between the machine's legs. The mech tried to turn around, perhaps intending to stomp on Shepard or at least bring her back in range of the flamethrower. Instead she snaked around its legs and unloaded one of her guns straight into the mech's knee joint.

The joint was armored against assault. The armor was _not_ designed to counter such a savage and precise an attack at so close a range. Some of the bullets went through and the mech's leg suddenly became unstable. The geth attempted to compensate, redistributing the weight, and using the arms for balance.

"The turrets!" yelled Shepard, her voice eerily calm in spite of the volume.

Obeying her instructions, the others attacked the two remaining turrets. Though the mech's pauldron guns and the turrets themselves both fired at them, without the heavier weaponry at play it was not quite enough. Ashley broke one of the turrets with her sniper rifle while Kaidan and Tali finished off the other with assault rifles.

Shepard, meanwhile, had rolled away from the mech and behind one of the generators. She pressed her back against it and with a grunt of effort tipped it over.

"Kaidan! Lift!" she ordered.

Kaidan complied. The generator weighed too much for him to send it soaring, but his efforts made it light enough for Shepard to ram it into the mech. She was thrown back by the small explosion and the electric blast as the mech lost is hard-won balance and he blinded geth tried to regain it much the same way a stumbling human might – by trying to hop on the good leg while using the bad one as a crutch and frantically waving the arms. Shepard observed the spectacle for a second before running up and tackling it. She was not a particularly heavy human, even in full combat armor, but the push changed the trajectory of the mech's half-blind hobbling just enough to carry it into the path of mining laser, which, without sensors of its own and unable to rely on borrowing the mech's sight, was trying to destroy the stone cover based on memory. The mech immediately lost its legs entirely and went tumbling forward. The crash into the ground had enough force to crack open the pilot's cabin. Liara shook in her seat, held to it by the seat belts, as the last of the gas dissipated. The mech's systems died one by one as Shepard jogged toward the laser, breathing heavily.

"There'll be mining explosives here too," she announced. "Hold off our guests, please."

With nothing more to threaten them from inside the room, the others were able to shift positions and train their weapons on the entrance just in time for the reinforcements to burst in. These were geth, but not like the ones from Eden prime. Their bodies were made from centuries-old corrugated metal, as if they were either made from the remains of some ancient krogan vehicle sitting in the desert or made to be disguised as one. They faced a hail of gunfire as they ran down the last corridor and into the room, but they weathered it no less bravely than had the organics just a minute ago. A few of them fell, but that still left almost a dozen against Tali, Kaidan, Ashley, a far-away distracted Shepard, and an unconscious Garrus who fortunately had stopped trying to bleed out.

Or so it seemed, until the largest of them unleashed a shotgun blast into the back of another's head. The others turned on it, quickly destroying it. But in those few critical moments Kaidan was able to dispatch another with a burst of full automatic fire and Ashley threw a grenade which took out three more as they tried to reorient. The remaining geth, no longer outnumbering the heroes quite so badly, dove for cover, crouching behind the very same blocks the organics were using, no more than an arm's reach away. One of them took advantage of the proximity by leaning over and trying to stab Tali with its sharp arm. She narrowly dodged and blew its head off with her shotgun.

A blast sounded on the opposite end of the room as Shepard's explosives took out the laser. Kaidan took a moment to look for her, only to see nothing. Instinctively he turned around and saw her appear out of thin air behind the geth, taking two of them out. He and the others jumped, catching the remaining synthetics in crossfire.

As the last of the geth fell, the team gave out a ragged cheer.

"I'm arranging for _Maxson_ to pick us up," said Shepard, staring at Garrus and Liara's unconscious forms. "I don't care what Wrex thinks. We'll think of an excuse for what we were doing here later."

"Just pretend Liara asked you to come teach her about how to find hidden rooms," advised Ashley. "Now let's get out of here before the vines come to life."

* * *

Liara sat up in her hospital bed. Technically it was only hers for a little while longer. No variety of knockout gas was exactly _good_ for one's lungs, but the one she'd inhaled was not _intentionally_ poisonous. Still, she was just as well off staying there since the meeting had to take place in the medical ward _anyway_. Modern medicine had no problem with forcing Garrus's body to patch up the redundant holes he'd managed to acquire, but that kind of reconstruction took its toll. _He_ still had to stay in bed.

"I finished sweeping the ship for geth infiltrators," said Tali. "I found none."

"Good," nodded Shepard.

"The fact that any existed is very disturbing. None of our Morning War records show geth leaving their designated bodies. Neither do the records of our encounters since then. This is a new development."

"They could hide anywhere," said Kaidan. "Take over military or industrial equipment, or even just squat in your toaster. Most AIs need special hardware, but geth can bypass that requirement, right?"

Tali nodded.

"Each individual geth is just a VI," she said. "It can run on any computer with enough capacity. But when enough geth interact, they become an AI."

"_These_ geth were there to guard Liara. Or possibly guard _against_ Liara," summarized Shepard. "Saren probably knows we're after him now."

"He's a Spectre," said Liara. "He could have all of us arrested."

"I don't think he wants the scrutiny," Shepard expressed her opinion. "He may resort to it in the end, but for now I think he will use unofficial channels. And he won't stop at just arresting us."

"Yes, but from what you tell me, you have no problem eliminating his death squads. You'd have more trouble with law enforcement officers doing just doing their jobs."

Shepard didn't meet Liara's eyes.

"Do we think this is why Saren was here, then?" asked Garrus. "Sneaking in geth?"

"I don't think so," said Shepard. "Maybe the first time. But the geth were too carefully disguised for him to risk revealing their presence by involving himself in that kind of operation multiple times."

"Something to do with krogan, then?" guessed Garrus. "Because aside from Liara this place mostly has krogan and wasteland."

"He _could_ want the wasteland," mused Shepard. "But it's probably krogan. And judging from what we've seen, probably not ones particularly loyal to Wrex's kingdom."

"That clan he asked us to raid – you think they may be involved?" asked Ashley.

"Maybe. Or they might know a clan that _is_. I'm inclined to do as Wrex asks anyway. It will make him more likely to overlook our indiscretions. Also, he's a good ally and a good person. Those who defy him must be stopped."

"Sounds like you have quite the anti-anti-authoritarian streak in you, Shepard," noted Garrus. "I take it you're not fond of rebels?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, Ashley burst into giggles and Kaidan grinned. Shepard blushed and slowly shook her head, a half-smile playing on her lips.

"Sounds like your little talks need to be less one-sided," said Kaidan. "They don't even know why you were the one chosen to go to Eden Prime over every other soldier in the Alliance."

"That's a story for another time," said Shepard, still smiling. "We have a lot of preparations to make if we're going to take on hundreds of krogan tomorrow. Liara, you come with me. I'll show you your locker."

Liara quickly stood up and hurried to catch up with Shepard. It was surprisingly difficult. Shepard didn't _seem_ to be in a hurry, but she still managed to cover a lot of distance in a surprisingly short time."

"So…you were kidding about hundreds of krogan, right?" she asked.

"No," Shepard shook her head, deadly serious. "Most of the clan should be away from the main compound. If we're forced to fight, we'll need to finish quickly. I don't think we can take on thousands of them."

"Thousands…" repeated Liara.

"Especially not once they bring their war machines," finished Shepard. "We can take ours, but our best bet is still an infantry engagement."

"I see," said Liara, trying to remember the terms of her will. "And how were you planning to take on so many of them?"

"A few at a time," answered Shepard. "It's impossible for one person to kill a hundred people in combat, right? You'd get hit by too many bullets, if only by accident."

"Sounds right."

"But it's possible for one person to kill three people, right?"

"Of course," Liara nodded. She'd done no less herself.

"So just do that. Find three or four people and kill them. Then do it again. And again. Eventually you'll have killed them all."

"It sounds so simple when you say it."

"It is! But don't worry, if they gang up on us, we have a secret weapon."

"We do?"

"Yes – me!" Shepard grinned. "But no, we really do have a secret weapon. But I hope we won't need it."

"Is there any way I can convince you to _not_ fight hundreds of krogan?" asked Liara.

"Help our infiltration go smoothly," answered Shepard without missing a beat. "This is first and foremost a recon mission. If we find that they're up to something beyond the usual shady activities, we can report them to Wrex and he'll send in an army or some diplomats, depending on what he feels is appropriate. But we'd have to be quiet for that, and I'm not very good at quiet."

"So it's a choice between not making noise and fighting a small army?" asked Liara. "I think I'll try for the first one."

"Fair," nodded Shepard. "But equip yourself for the second."


	6. Chapter 6

"Is everyone ready to go?" asked Shepard, fingers drumming on the nearest wall.

There was a round of nods.

"Good. Kaidan, you first."

Kaidan obediently stepped forward and hefted a sleek-looking assault rifle. He unleashed a short burst of fire against a target dummy. The bullets sank into its foam-filled form. And a second later the entry points were outlined by a string of little flames that spread, engulfing the dummy in a blaze.

"I figured the fire would counteract krogan regeneration," Kaidan explained. "It's not the best mod for getting through most kinds of defenses, but they seem like the type to trust in their natural toughness."

"Very strategic," said Tali, stepping up to replace him. "My perspective was more technical than that."

Two small drones detached themselves from Tali's backback, activating their holo-armor. They buzzed around Tali's dummy in a complicated pattern, then suddenly lined themselves up in front of it and lashed out with pencil-thin lasers, cutting the dummy in a zig-zag motion. Another drone emerged from behind Tali and fired a small rocket, exploding the dummy's shredded remains.

"Very nice," Shepard clapped slightly. "Ash, would you like to go next?"

"Yeah," nodded Ashley. "But first, can I just ask how you got access to all this stuff? Do all Couriers have this many licenses, or is it just you?"

"Just me," answered Shepard. "We have to buy our own equipment. It's hard for me to guess the future so I just grab any license that's offered to me. And then I mostly don't use them and just get weapons and mods from people I kill. But this is a special occasion. This whole mission is special and I don't want us to be understrength."

"With custom equipment like this we won't be," Ashley grinned. "Check this out – old fashioned rounds!"

She opened her palms to show the rest of the group a bullet as long as her finger. It was wickedly sharp, polished to a shine, and glowed a faint green.

"Enriched uranium shells. Only the Gun Runners make them. No other military has access to anything like this."

"That's because we prefer our magazines not to level a neighborhood if they get jostled slightly," said Garrus, looking at the bullet in slight disapproval.

"Whatever," said Ashley, pressing a truly massive sniper rifle to her shoulder. She aimed carefully and scored a headshot at a dummy. The dummy's head and everything else was engulfed in a miniature nuclear explosion.

Shepard clapped again, apparently unable to take her eyes off the explosion. She kept staring at the same spot even as the remains of the tiny mushroom cloud faded away, not even glancing at Garrus as he set up his own shot and tore his dummy's head off with a conventional bullet.

"Don't come crying to me when you run out of ammo," he said, glaring at Ashley. She just gave him a triumphant smile.

"My turn," said Shepard. She stepped up and lifted a gun that looked like something out of an old comic book – a blue lollypop attached to a complicated looking handle, its rod surrounded by three rings that decreased in size as they approached the orb at the end.

The strange gun emitted a noise that resembled the feedback of a microphone pressed right up against the speaker. The tip emitted a rainbow-colored sphere that almost leisurely floated through the air. Right up until it hit the dummy, that is. At that point it turned to an explosion of plasma, tearing the target apart at a molecular level.

"It will take a full minute to recharge now," said Shepard sadly. "And it eats a lot of batteries. But it bypasses kinetic barriers completely. It's a good holdout. I also thought that I would have the most visually impressive presentation. Clearly I was wrong," she gave a nod of respect to Ashley.

"What about you, Liara?" asked Tali. "Did you find a weapon to suit you?"

"The guns _are_ nice, acknowledged Liara. "But _this_ is how I normally deal with enemies."

A blue-black ball appeared in her hand and she pitched it overhand. The sphere ripped two dummies from their supports, trapping them in its gravitational pull. As they floated there, Liara raised her other hand and the biotic singularity exploded, raining bits of dummy over many square feet.

"Can _you_ do that?" Shepard asked Kaidan.

"No," he admitted, a little disgruntled.

"Interesting," Shepard alternated between gazing at both of them. "Teach her how to throw and catch me, okay?"

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Kaidan stared at Shepard with suspicion.

"What?" she asked mischievously. "I'm not replacing you. It's just that it's good to have a biotic who's better than you on the team. Just like it's good to have a tech expert who's better than you on the team."

"You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted," Kaidan grumbled. He wasn't quite sure if this was a joke at his expense or merely some old-fashioned brutal honesty, but he didn't like it.

"What else are you good at?" asked Shepard. "I bet if I find someone better at it, they'll be really useful."

"Um…Shepard?" Liara sensed the mounting tension and decided to separate the two. "I have a question. Walk with me?"

Shepard did just that.

"Everyone seems to _want_ to fight someone today," Liara whispered loudly. "Even me, for a moment. We were all so happy to show off, and I doubt the others will be satisfied with just this."

"Are you asking me if someone will break stealth just to provoke a fight?"

"Not…consciously, no. But I imagine there is a difference in the way you sneak depending on whether you're desperate to avoid a fight or secretly raring for one."

"Good point. I'll keep an eye on things."

"Shepard! Hey, Shepard!"

Shepard turned and waved to Conrad, who was sitting off to the side with Captain Anderson. Neither of them would be coming along, but it would have been mean to leave them out of the demonstration entirely.

"What is it?" asked Shepard, striding over.

"I just wanted to say…good luck," Conrad gave her a childlike smile. "And I can't wait until I'm ready to come with you too."

"Don't hold your breath," said Anderson. "Most soldiers aren't even good enough to come along with Shepard. It's going to take a long time and a lot of effort to whip you into that kind of shape."

"She's taking an archaeologist she found," complained Conrad. "How is an archeologist more suited to combat than me, anyway?"

"She's an adventurous type of archeologist. A lot like a Vault delver," explained Shepard. "Some of the first Couriers were people who went into old places to find old things and old knowledge. The Old World guards its secrets jealously. An archeologist has to be strong enough to pry them away by force."

"Unless they spend decades cleaning little pottery shards with a tiny brush," said Conrad.

"She's an asari. She's had time to do both."

Conrad lowered his head in a gesture of capitulation.

"Like I said, good luck out there," he repeated. "Promise to tell me all about it when you get back?"

"I don't see why not."

* * *

"So tell me," said Shepard. "Why is there a large group of heavily armed salarians in the middle of Tuchanka?"

She stared at the salarian across the table. He was glaring at her, but Shepard's expression betrayed nothing but amusement or curiosity.

"How about you tell me how you found us instead?" asked the salarian.

"We're here for a reconnaissance mission that has the option of turning into an assault. We went to the optimal place from which to observe the krogan compound without being observed in turn. And we immediately ran into you."

Shepard gave the salarian a meaningful look before continuing.

"Of course we were invited by Urdnot Wrex. You weren't. So now you're wondering if you can afford to let us live. The truth is that you can't afford to try to kill us."

"Believe it or not, wanton murder wasn't my first priority," the salarian replied dryly.

"My uniform is different from yours. You've definitely thought about killing me," Shepard insisted.

The salarian's fingers drummed on the desktop in a gesture that may or may not have been nervous.

"I'm not thinking about it _now_. Is that good enough?" seeing Shepard nod he continued. "Other obvious problems aside, the surviving group would certainly be spotted by the krogan."

"Assuming we weren't already," mused Shepard. "If two groups can realize how perfect this spot is, so can three."

"We've been here for several days. I'm absolutely confident we haven't been discovered."

"That's a good thing. I made a promise."

"So – let's start over," she salarian rose in his seat and extended his hand. "My name is Kirrahe. Captain Kirrahe."

"Courier Shepard," Shepard shook the proffered hand. "What are you doing here, captain?"

"The same thing you are, I suppose. It's not a surprise to me that Wrex has people checking out unusual activity by clans who are against his vision of the political unity. It shouldn't be a surprise to you that other races are doing it too. The krogan gave us a real black eye the last time they started trouble. We want to nip any repeat in the bud."

"You gave the krogan a black eye too," Shepard pointed out. "You wouldn't like it if you found a krogan team on your homeworld."

"Then they should do the polite thing and remain unfound," retorted Kirrahe. "If you hadn't stumbled into us, we would have handled the problematic elements in Wrex's kingdom _for_ him and been gone without disturbing him. I hope that you won't find it necessary to worry him needlessly."

"Maybe not," said Shepard. "_Why_ not?"

"Would you believe that the parts of galactic society in the know about our operations actually find it easier to trust Wrex when they know someone's making sure he's not doing anything stupid? And that our operations actually contribute to the stability of his regime?"

"Without a way of verifying it I would _have_ to believe or disbelieve it."

"Get some anecdotal evidence, then. Watch us work. Or better yet, help us. I'm assuming we're here for the same reason."

"The Weyrloc Clan has moved its headquarters to an old hospital," said Shepard. "They've become very secretive. Wrex thinks they're creating kroglodytes."

"They are," answered Kirrahe without missing a beat. "No doubt about it. But that's not the worst of it. They're also making efforts to cure the genophage."

"And?"

Kirrahe looked up at Shepard who gave him the most defiant of smiles.

"Ah. Right. If I recall correctly, there is an element in human culture that makes humans instinctively fear genophage."

"Yes," Shepard nodded. "The time a technologically advanced society tried to destroy us all with a virus designed to target our DNA."

"And it's been an unfortunate stumbling block in the relations between our species. Yes, I remember now. And if I remember _correctly_, the society in question was trying to kill you so it could take your land. Much like what the krogan were doing at the time. Massacring entire planetary population. Crashing asteroids into garden worlds. The genophage was a defensive measure of last resort, not a pre-emptive genocide."

"All true."

"So the question becomes – do _you_ oppose the genophage?" Kirrahe looked straight into Shepard's eyes, braving their piercing ability.

"Not as a wartime measure. I've fought krogan before. Sometimes they need to be shot in the head."

"But you support their attempts to cure it?"

Shepard shrugged.

"The war is over. They have a right to take control of their genetic destiny, just like any other species."

"I see," Kirrahe frowned. "How about this – I'm going to start naming reasons why you should support our efforts here and you just stop me when I hit one that makes sense to you."

"What if there isn't one?" asked Shepard.

"With as many of them as I've got? Law of averages says there is."

"All right. Let's do it," Shepard said, apparently intrigued.

"Does it matter to you that a thousand births per female is a completely unsustainable birth rate and that if left unchecked it would inevitably lead to a war?"

"Not at all."

"I thought not. Does it matter to you that a lot of Wrex's power is based on controlling access to fertile females and a cure for the genophage could actually weaken that position?"

"It would never even occur to me to consider that as a factor."

"Does it matter to you that Clan Weyrloc is politically opposed to Wrex and doesn't think much of humans either? That if they found the cure to the genophage they'd use their newfound prestige to destroy the Urdnot regime and humanity would end up on the wrong side of a growing galactic power?"

"Yes it does. If possible I would prefer to pass the results of their research to Clan Urdnot. But I wouldn't attack them _just_ for working on it."

"Does it bother you that their research requires them to torture and kill their subjects and they've kidnapped at least one scientist?"

"Of course. They have to be stopped."

"Thought so," Kirrahe leaned back in satisfaction, releasing some of the tension that had built up in him during the course of the conversation. "Should have led with that one. You look like the heroic type."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not to those who are on the side of righteousness."

"I'm glad we understand each other," Shepard smiled.

* * *

Shepard and Kirrahe walked out of the camouflaged tent side by side to find Shepard's party and the salarian Special Tasks Group waiting for them.

"Well?" asked Ashley in a pointed manner.

"We worked it out," said Shepard. "We're on the same side."

Several held breaths were released. The respective groups huddled together as their leaders approached to inform them about the particulars of the situation.

"Our mission has new parameters," Shepard explained after she got through the basics. "We have to stop the Weyrloc clan from conducting specific research and free one or more prisoners."

"I'm glad you're able to find allies wherever you go, Shepard," said Ashley. "But I'm not 100% on bringing them with us."

"It's more like they're bringing us with them. The STG is better at this than we are and they've been here longer. They've snuck past the outermost defenses. They've downloaded a map of this place. All we're contributing are extra bodies."

"I'm still uneasy about their presence here," said Tali.

"So am I," answered Shepard. "But I want to capture some higher moral ground before I commit to that fight. For now we commit to this one."

"That's fine. What's the plan?"

"Two-pronged infiltration. We enter and split up. Their team sweeps down a side passage, opening doors and disabling security for us. We take out anything that's not remotely operated. Then we regroup and go down into the deep rooms together."

"Sounds simple enough," shrugged Garrus. "What's the catch?'

"The usual. A guard leaving his route to nap in a closet. Domesticated animals running randomly around. Traps. Cameras that spot us before we spot them. Bypassing security is complicated."

"I think we'll manage," said Liara. "Don't you?"

"Yes. Yes," answered Shepard, looking slightly uneasy.

"Something bothering you?" asked Kaidan.

"He's giving a speech," said Shepard, glancing over at Kirrahe. "Should I be giving a speech?"

"I don't think we need a speech," answered Ashley.

"Oh, I don't know," said Garrus. "I wouldn't mind one."

"Yeah!" said Tali, laughter in her voice. "Speech! Speech!"

"If you say so," muttered Shepard.

She walked out in front of the party and turned around, staring her subordinates down. She placed her hands on her hips, cleared her throat, and began ruthlessly plagiarizing Kirrahe's speech.

"This mission won't be easy. None of you were trained in espionage. Some of you weren't trained in combat at all and what action you've seen has been big and loud. My own hour of glory came because I found it easier to fight an army than sneak around them. Still, remember our heroes. Remember the Chosen One, who walked through Enclave bases unmolested. Remember the Courier, who snuck by a legion of Nightkin. But if we fail at stealth, we will _break the line_. Lines are easy to break because they're very long and thin. No matter how many people form the line, you only need to kill a relatively small number of them to break it. When stealth failed me, I learned how to _break the line_. And that's exactly what we'll do if stealth fails us today. If we fail to sneak by the krogan, we will kill them all and pretend we succeeded!"

* * *

Garrus wasn't particularly enjoying his own attempts at sneaking around. Even compressed, his gun was still half as tall as he was. Not to mention he had no training. Still, so far they'd managed to avoid any trouble. The STG were apparently clearing obstacles out of their way, just as Shepard promised. Tali got most of what was left, hacking everything with an electronic component and having her little robots disassemble anything else. They had yet to run into anything organic, which Garrus thought was fortunate yet also almost fantastically unlikely. In a compound this size they were bound to get in somebody's way sooner or later. And yet…

"We're almost finished with our part," Shepard was saying. "There is one more service hallway. Once we disable the security there, the salarians will be free to rejoin us and we'll all continue the infiltration into the hospital areas."

Garrus obediently stepped through the doors, just like everyone else. Then he cursed under his breath.

They weren't in a service hallway. Nor a hallway of any kind. They were standing on a walkway on one side of a huge hall. The walkways on the other side were filled with krogan. Literal hundreds of them, all aiming their weapons at the new arrivals.

Standing on the floor of the hall were the kroglodytes. Massive, misshapen monsters quietly grunting to themselves. Each one was several times the size of any krogan Garrus had ever seen, as broad as he was tall, with arms like tree trunks and a hump like a small hill. Their broad mouths were overfilled with teeth, with fangs sticking out haphazardly. And several of them were holding huge, multi-barreled guns.

One krogan spoke, his voice reverberating above the general mutter.

"Arrogant aliens! Did you really think your intrusions would go undetected by us? We've been waiting for you. Make peace with your gods, because you're about to meet them. And your races will follow shortly after. Once the genophage is cured, my hordes will sweep away the weaklings ruling this planet and…"

Garrus fired at a gas main. The Weyrloc Speaker was blown away, along with several of his bodyguards.

"Good job," said Tali as the team ducked, avoiding the krogan retaliation."

One of the monstrous kroglodytes roared, standing to its full twelve foot height.

"I wish Jenkins were here," muttered Shepard.

* * *

It was a battle of half a thousand against half a dozen. The krogan fired in undisciplined, ragged volleys, buckling the thin metal walls of the walkway with the sheer force of their bullets' impacts. Shepard's party answered back when they could, finding breaks in the otherwise relentless assault to drop one or two of the krogan. The kroglodytes were the worst of it. They hefted machine guns too large for any normal krogan or supermutant that unleashed continuous waves of fire. That or threw rocks. Their aim wasn't the best, but they'd actually managed to take out several pieces of the walkway. If things continued like this, Shepard was sure to lose.

The worst part was that the kroglodytes were proving practically invincible. A normal krogan would stop fighting once his head was disintegrated. A kroglodyte did not. He simply regrew the missing parts. It took the combination of Shepard's wonder gun and Ashley's nuclear rifle to drop even one of them, and privately Ashley wasn't sure that the irradiated pieces wouldn't eventually pull themselves together.

And Shepard wasn't exactly doing much to help anymore. She stopped shooting a while ago, pulled a strange metallic cube out of her backpack, and was fiddling with some concentric circles on top of it.

"What are you doing?!" Ashley demanded when a break in the gunfire allowed it."

"Saving us all," answered Shepard, aligning two of the circles. "_If_ Kirrahe can shut off the ventilation system to this place."

"You want to suffocate them?" asked Ashley. "I don't think that would work. This room isn't sealed. It's not _close_ to sealed."

"I don't need it sealed," said Shepard. "I just need the fans turned off."

"Whatever you're doing, you'd better do it fast!" said Ashley, dodging a giant rock as destroyed yet another walkway section.

"It's not _designed_ to be fast," said Shepard. "This is a security puzzle."

"This better be good!" screamed Ashley.

"You'll see! If…" Shepard's omnitool beeped. "Okay, the vents are closed. Here we go."

She aligned he last of the concentric circles. The many circles became one, glowing with a soft white light.

"Voice authorization required," said the cube.

"Run!" screamed Shepard.

She taught two grenades, aiming for the center of the room, above the kroglodytes' heads. They exploded into white light and deafening noise, momentarily drowning out the din of the battle. Shepard's party took the moment to bolt, leaving what little cover they had for the open hallway. The position left them exposed to krogan fire, but no one was about to question Shepard. If _she_ was running, _everyone_ was running. Unfortunately for the krogan, they hadn't known her long enough to learn that lesson. They wouldn't get the chance, either. The last thing they heard from Shepard was the activation code phrase.

"Over the Mountain the ominous Cloud, coming to cover the land in a shroud. Hide in a bushel, a basement, a cave, but when the Cloud comes a-huntin' no one's a-safe!"

And then the circle on top of the cube opened and a blood-red fog poured out. In seconds it puffed up into a deadly cloud and dropped evil-looking tentacles down to the kroglodytes. The tentacles kept extending and licked the monsters' limbs almost playfully. Where they did the flesh simply melted. The kroglodytes panicked and stampeded, trying to climb over each other. Those caught in the fog tried to hold their breaths, to little avail. The Cloud forced its way through their noses and mouths and burned its way down their throats. The kroglodytes vomited out their quickly-liquefying organs as their skin and muscles reduced themselves to a black sludge, exposing bone. The bone was just a little too tough to destroy even for the Cloud's metallic toxins. The cleanly polished skeletons were left behind.

The krogan began their own retreat from the moment the fog touched the first kroglodyte, but they didn't have a lot of time. The Cloud grew quickly, rolling over itself and reaching out almost purposefully. A few krogan made it out of the great hall, but the greater part of their force was still caught in the doors, jostling to be the first to run out, ironically trapping each other and themselves with the Cloud. Some of them were wearing hardsuits with built-in air filters. These proved of very little use. The fog melted through the filters, immobilized the joints, fried the circuitry. The protective suits only bought their wearers a slower death.

Having completed its grisly task, the Cloud simply hung around for a while. Then, all at once, it condensed, falling to the ground in a rain of blood-red liquid. Fifteen minutes later Shepard's return was greeted only by chalky red powder and giant skeletons.

"Well, _that_ worked," muttered Shepard. "And we're not dying, so _that_ worked too. I wonder what would happen if someone blasted this with a water cannon. Would that be enough, or would you need to work up a mist?"

"Shepard…what are you talking about?" asked Ashley. "And what _was_ that?"

"The treasure of Sierra Madre."

* * *

The areas on the other side of the great hall looked less like an armed compound and more like a hospital – or a morgue. The invaders fought their way past medical equipment and half-dissected corpses, some krogan and some human. The remaining defenders were wild with fear. They fought desperately, as though trying to kill their enemies before more red fog could be unleashed. Shepard rose to the challenge.

"See, Garrus? I told you this would be better than a clinic," she pronounced, using bandages to tie a couple of oxygen tanks to a gurney.

"You seem very calm about this," Garrus responded, glancing sidelong at a gruesome human corpse.

"I was prepared for something like this. And it makes me feel better about this attack. But I wonder why they used humans."

"Lab rats," answered Kirrahe. "Your species has an unusually high genetic diversity."

"Makes sense," said Ashley. "Between the radiation and the viruses, all of our ancestors were at least a little bit mutated."

"I'm…not sure I could be this calm in your place," said Liara. "The thought of my people being killed like this…I sense so much suffering in these rooms."

"Yeah," said Shepard, taking a look at a nearby corpse. "These people died without anything to dull the pain. You can see it in their faces. Their muscles too."

"These Weyrlocs are an unpleasant bunch," said Kirrahe.

"Like I said, that makes me feel better about things like this," said Shepard.

She pushed the gurney around the corner. The two krogan barricaded at the other side of the room, expecting a humanoid enemy, aimed too high. Their second round of fire caught the gurney, just in time to light up the oxygen tanks. The explosion rocked their barricade and set it aflame. At that moment Shepard and Kirrahe emerged and finished the krogan off.

"We're getting close," said Kirrahe. "I think their main data server is in a room after this one."

"The prisoner too?" asked Shepard.

"I would imagine so."

"They might try to take him hostage."

"Maybe," said Kirrahe. "They're desperate. How about this: you and I will go in quietly while the rest of our people watch the doors."

"Works for me," said Shepard.

* * *

Compared to the rest of the compound, the little lab was really a disappointment. It lacked the vastness of the krogan-filled hall or the grisly corpses of the medical facility. It was just a couple of computer panels slotted along the wall and a huge holographic screen in the middle. Also one trembling salarian with a gun.

"Maelon. You don't look kidnapped to me," said Kirrahe.

The scientist's eyes flicked to Kirrahe. He had to know that the good captain had walked through a hail of krogan gunfire to get to this point. The pistol in his own hands was almost comical compared to that. Nevertheless, he clutched it like it was a protective talisman.

"Excellent observation, captain," Maelon croaked, managing to force sarcasm into the mix of terror and anger in his voice. "The krogan didn't kidnap me. _I_ found _them_. It was the only way to put things right. Fix what you and I did to them."

"Maelon, be quiet," said Kirrahe, raising his own pistol higher.

"No, don't. I want to hear this," said Shepard.

"We don't have time for this," answered Kirrahe. "More Weyrloc forces are on their way. We need to finish up here and get out, not rehash past sins."

"I _said_ I want to hear this," repeated Shepard.

Kirrahe looked up to find the tip of her plasma gun pointed at him. He tried to bring around his own handgun almost reflexively. Shepard casually stood on the toes of one foot and executed a classic pirouette that ended with her other foot slamming into Kirrahe's fingers like a sledgehammer. His weapon went flying and he cried in pain, cradling the probably-broken hand to his chest.

"The more you insist on silencing him, the more I want to hear him, captain," said Shepard, looking increasingly grim. "Maelon, please continue."

"Thank you, human. I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad you're willing to listen."

"I want to have a full understanding of the situation before I decide whom to shoot. Based on the corpses in the adjoining rooms, it will probably be you."

"If you're not a fan of dead krogan, you'll need to shoot both of us," answered Maelon, suddenly fearless. "We have the blood of millions on our hands."

Shepard responded by pulling out her other gun and pointing it at Maelon.

"This isn't the first time the salarians tried to prevent the end of the genophage," he continued, apparently unfazed. "Have you ever wondered how the virus's hold can be so absolute? Krogan can survive nuclear winter. They can survive a rocket to the face. How is the genophage killing them?"

"Maelon, don't!" Kirrahe ordered aggressively. Shepard waved her gun vaguely in response.

"We modified the genophage," Maelon continued. "A group of scientists working around the clock to keep the krogan from healing themselves. Making sure that the genophage wouldn't become less deadly."

"Or more," Kirrahe stated calmly.

"Irrelevant!" Maelon snapped, pointing his own gun at Kirrahe. Shepard vaguely waved the gun she had pointed at _him_, causing him to collect himself, lower his weapon, and continue. "Even as the krogan were pulling themselves together for the first time in centuries we were conspiring to murder their children in the womb. We created a modified variant of the genophage and released it into Tuchanka's air. Now I'm going to do what we should have done instead. Get rid of the genophage."

"We did what had to be done," said Kirrahe. "You agreed!"

"I was pressured! By you, by the great Mordin Sollus, by the entire government. It took having someone shove the suffering I caused into my face to make me see the error of my ways. All our simulations were worthless. The krogan proved it. Are _still_ proving it. They're rebuilding."

"Yes they are," answered Kirrahe with some satisfaction. "If things continue like this, the krogan will rejoin galactic society in good standing. Between their current birth rate and their natural longevity their population will recover easily. _Right now_ a group of krogan can outbreed a similarly-sized group of salarians or humans. They have what it takes to become upstanding citizens of the galaxy – _unless_ a sudden population explosion forces their little kingdom to become an expansionist empire."

"So it's true," said Shepard. "Everything Maelon said. You used a new version of the genophage. In peacetime."

"We had no choice. I gave you the reasons the genophage can't be cured. All of them still apply."

"Except the ones I cared about."

"That's because you have a heart full of righteousness and a head full of empty," Kirrahe snapped at her. "You said you didn't care if Wrex's government fell, if the krogan started another war. You'll care when millions of people are burned. Krogan among them. The last time our choice was between genophage and genocide. This time we won't be able to get away with half-measures. The krogan will, as you said, be shot in the head."

"The krogan wouldn't see it that way," said Shepard. "If any krogan learned about this, he'd charge the nearest salarian and try to kill him. If the krogan as a whole learned about this, there would be a war. They wouldn't stop until every salarian was dead – or every krogan."

"You're probably right," said Kirrahe. "That's why we were supposed to take this secret to our graves. I'm guessing Maelon hasn't mentioned his motives to the Weyrloc either."

"You still risk war in the name of preventing war," said Shepard.

"We did everything within our power to minimize that risk. Can you say the same, Maelon?"

Shepard pre-empted that last question with one of her own.

"Why did you work with this clan? Why not go to Urdnots?"

"They wouldn't have given me what I needed," said Maelon. "Some of the things I've had to do are horrific. I don't blame you if you think I'm a monster. But once the cure was complete, they would have gotten it."

Shepard cocked her head.

"Clan Weyrloc would never have shared the cure."

"They're not in charge."

"Is…Saren in charge?"

Maelon blinked.

"How did you know?"

"Not important. Is the cure finished?"

"No," admitted Maelon. "I've cured several females, but they're dying. They may make it through, but the cure is just too dangerous in its current form."

"Could you finish it? Without more dissections or experimenting on live subjects?"

"Maybe," said Maelon.

"But he shouldn't," Kirrahe interrupted. "Shepard, I know you want to do the right thing. So do I. Everything I've told you was true. I bear no ill will toward the krogan. If we wanted to end them, we could have easily done so. But we didn't. We preserved their stable birth rate. We supported their renaissance. So believe me when I say that curing the genophage would be the _worst_ thing you could do for the krogan."

"That sort of argument swayed me, once," said Maelon. "Please don't let it sway you. Don't do anything you'll regret forever. Kill me if you must, but don't let him destroy my research. Take it with you. Decide what to do with it yourself."

Shepard got a better grip on both her guns, pulled the trigger of one of them, and whispered "I'm sorry."

Captain Kirrahe screamed silently as the plasma tore his form apart. Maelon trembled as he realized that he was still alive.

"You'll need to take your data along," said Shepard "Can someone keep the krogan females alive?"

"My assistant," said Maelon, beginning the download. "She can keep them stabilized."

"I didn't see any assistant," said Shepard, frowning.

"She was probably smart enough to hide. Not like me. Listen, you don't need to involve her in this. She's not responsible for anything that happened here. I was the one who hurt people. She just tried to keep them alive. Handled data. Played secretary."

"Fine."

"Will you be calling in Wrex's forces?"

Shepard nodded.

"Good," Maelon said with conviction. "Please don't tell him what I've told you."

"No," said Shepard. "The risk is too great. Urdnot forces will arrive to find evidence of medical experiments and kroglodyte corpses. That's it. If a salarian comes bearing a potential genophage cure, he shouldn't come from this compound. Or from Tuchanka. You will come with me. That way I can watch you."

"Thank you," said Maelon. "For helping me and for taking my side. I wasn't sure you would. Why did you?"

"Three reasons. One, the genophage can't last forever. Wrex is too clever and too organized. Sooner or later there will be a cure or a war. Two, I need you to tell me everything you know about Saren. Three, Myron."

"Never heard of him."

"You will. You should. His actions saved your life."

* * *

Outside Maelon's lab the alloyed group was increasingly uneasy. Shepard and Kirrahe were certainly among the best warriors in the galaxy, well equipped to face whatever was inside. Outside most of the Weyrlocs had either succumbed to the Cloud, been shot to pieces, or had simply fled. Still, everyone was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The humans' muttering wasn't helping. Form the sound of it, they either expected to face an army of failed kroglodyte prototypes, reinforcements from another clan, or, for some strange reason, a volus hit squad.

The last time tension had built up like this, back at the camp, it was broken by a human and a salarian striding in side by side. This time something similar happened, except the human was carrying the salarian as he was draped across her. Several of the salarians immediately rushed over to help while others stayed at their posts, all the more determined to watch out for enemies.

Nobody was prepared when Shepard opened fire, killing three of the salarians in the first seconds.

"Betrayal!" yelled Shepard. "Destroy the STG!"

_That_ broke the tension all right. Shepard's people reacted as soon as the words left her mouth, their reflexes honed by institutionalized paranoia and their faith in Shepard recently bolstered. Before the salarians could properly react, the massacre began.

Tali's drones went from peacefully floating around her to attacking three separate salarians. Ashley shot the nearest STG member with her sidearm while she leveled her enormous gun. Garrus wrestled a salarian who attempted to bring up his gun as Kaidan and Liara lifted several of them into the air. Shepard rolled and continued her merciless execution. It didn't matter that the salarians outnumbered Shepard's team almost three to one or that they were a honed fighting force. By the time the element of surprise played its part and the slaughter turned into a firefight, it was too late to turn things around. Less than a minute after Shepard made her entrance it was all over. Her team, anting and sorting some dented armor and mild injuries, stood over the salarians' corpses.

"Well done," said Shepard. "That was a very well executed betrayal."

"Wait," said Tali. "_We_ were the betrayers?"

"Of course," said Shepard. "How do you think we got the first shot?"

"I don't understand," said Tali, sounding distressed. "But I trust that you wouldn't have us do this unless you had a very good reason. Please tell me your very good reason," she finished pleadingly.

"The STG were the bad guys. Not on this specific mission, but they've done very bad things before and were planning to do them again. More importantly, leaving them alive would have exposed us to trouble on a galactic scale. Now that they're dead and we're the only ones who know for sure what happened here, we're free to start that trouble on our own terms."

"I…see," muttered Tali, sounding as unsure as everyone else felt.

"I will give you the details later," said Shepard. "For now I'm asking you to believe that I wouldn't make ask you to kill anyone unless it was moral, necessary, or both."

"Like I said, I'm sure you had a very good reason," said Tali.

"It's all right to feel bad about this," said Shepard. "_I_ do. But I was prepared for this possibility since the moment we found them. They are spies and assassins. And so are we. I was hoping we had a common enemy, but they made themselves the enemies of _all_ krogan. Which is why you should feel bad, but also good."

"I've never really done anything like this before, though," said Liara. "I've killed people, sure, but not people I've spoken to. Not people who trusted me. This is going to get some getting used to."

"Understood," Shepard nodded. "While that happens, we're going to disintegrate their bodies and loot their camp. Please get used to that too."

* * *

Shepard once again prowled through the ship. The past few days had been very turbulent. It was her duty to check in on everyone. So she stalked her subordinates and cornered them one by one. Tali down in Engineering, Ashley up by the AutoCook, Garrus next to the main gun, and Conrad in his bunk. She asked them about new friends and miracle weapons, about conspiracies and betrayals, about the past and the future and goals and aspirations and faith. And she wasn't quite finished.

Maelon nearly jumped when Shepard entered his lab. He wasn't sure how he felt about her. On the one hand, he didn't particularly enjoy having a gun pointed at him _or_ being ripped away from his work. On the other hand, out of all possible outcomes to an armed party slaughtering their way through the Weyrlocs and into his lab, staying alive and getting to keep his data _and_ his work was probably the best one. And besides, he thought that he might enjoy being forced to conform to a code of ethics. He didn't regret anything he'd done and would do it all again if given the option. But that didn't mean he'd enjoyed doing it.

"Did the archives help you?" asked Shepard.

"Not really. The FEV works on the same principle as the Genophage, so I was hoping I could use something you humans learned in my work. Trying to cure one with the other was a stupid idea, but I thought maybe if I looked at how it was created in the first place...but it turned out to be a dead end. When the genophage was designed it was with the highest possible precision. Our scientists calculated its effects to within fifteen standards deviations. Projected them through the generations for hundreds of years. Your virus is just...random. It has dozens of variations and your people only found out what any of them do by literally smearing the cultures over living creatures. There could be a strain that grants you eternal youth and laser vision and you'd never know."

"I didn't think it would work. If humans knew how to cure the krogan, we would have had this crisis much earlier."

"Thanks for trying, anyway. You don't know how much all of this means."

"Can you think of anything else that could help?"

"Time. And effort," Maelon sighed. "You compared me to Myron but I feel like the other character in your story. The doctor who was working on a cure but missing a crucial insight. Unfortunately unlike him I know I can't get it from the source. I had the highest possible clearance when it came to the genophage. I have every bit of official data and it's still not enough."

"You specified official data," pointed out Shepard.

"Well," Maelon looked and felt uncomfortable. "There was one researcher who understood the genophage better than anyone. If I could get my hands on his personal notes, that _might_ give me the boost I need. But he was dedicated to the modification project. As dedicated as Kirrahe. And after what happened..."

"I understand your concern," Shepard said, stepping closer to him. "I can't promise we wouldn't hurt him. But I can promise we would try not to. If there is even a one percent chance..."

"...then it's worth it," Maelon finished solemnly. "You're right. So many people died for this already. It wouldn't make sense to back out now. His name is Mordin Solus. He used to be my mentor. Now he runs a clinic on Omega. I know you're planning to go there to deal with Saren. If we could get our hands on those notes..."

"I wonder if he is somehow connected to Saren. Like you were," mused Shepard.

"I wouldn't know. Saren never told me anything about his plans. He found me. Took me to Tuchanka. Helped me get in touch with the Weyrlocs. Gave me funding and equipment. I figured he wanted to trade the cure for an army of krogan. Or that the whole thing was a backdoor effort by the Council to get around the salarian government. I never imagined he was trying to end the galaxy."

"I didn't think you knew," said Shepard. "What you did is one thing. But willingly taking part in what _he_ is doing is unforgivable."

"Right. So...thanks again for not killing me."

"You're welcome."

Her interrogation of Maelon finished, Shepard made her way over to Liara's work station, where the asari archaeologist was already elbow-deep in printouts of available information on the Protheans. Faced with the threat of the Reapers, Liara had put aside krogan history for her first specialization.

"Did you find anything?" asked Shepard.

"Not as a researcher. There _is_ some evidence that the Prothean civilization ended suddenly and violently, but it's always been under dispute. Those who support the theories usually postulate a civil war that ended in a galaxy-wide apocalypse. But I suppose an alien invasion would work just as well. Unfortunately there is nothing in the records to prove it. If these Reapers _did_ kill the Protheans, they either did is to quickly the Protheans didn't have time to record anything, or they destroyed the records. Either scenario is terrifying."

Shepard said nothing but Liara continued without being prompted.

"I've had more success as a daughter. I've been making calls to everyone who knew my mother ever since you picked me up. Some of them were willing to tell me things they wouldn't tell an information broker. Putting everything together, I was able to track my mother down to Noveria. She's working for one of Saren's companies, no doubt aiding his plans somehow."

"Noveria is run by corporations," said Shepard, staring off into space. "They could hide almost anything there."

"I know," Liara hung her head.

"Thank you for telling me this, Liara."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you. When we go to Noveria, I'll have a chance to stop my mother. Without you I wouldn't have even known she needed to be stopped."

"I should go."

Finished with Liara, Shepard strode out and walked to the elevator. She found Kaidan waiting there for her.

"Hey," he said. "I heard you've been collecting suggestions on where to go next."

"I suppose I am. Do you have one?"

"Kind of. I don't care if we go to Omega or Noveria, just as long as we _don't_ go to Graceland."

Shepard's eyes narrowed.

"Tell me why," she requested, carefully observing Kaidan's face.

"I'd really rather not. It's embarrassing."

"Now I _definitely_ want to hear it."

"Would you be willing to trade the story for the promise to definitely stay away?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then no deal. I'm keeping my embarrassing secrets to myself."

"_For now_," said Shepard. "Is there anything else you want to talk about."

"Not really. I'm fine. Take care!" Kaidan exited the elevator, perhaps worried that if he stayed Shepard would definitely find a way to make him confess everything.

Shepard shrugged and pressed a button, closing the doors and beginning her ascension.

* * *

Joker's neck hair stood on end when he heard Shepard's quiet footsteps enter his cockpit. It was the usual response to having the boss enter the room multiplied by the boss being a trained killer and not 100% mentally stable. Like everyone else on the ship, he admired Shepard. But he preferred to do his admiring at a distance.

"I've been receiving a lot of input on our destination," said Shepard as she glided into Joker's personal space.

"Anything I need to know about?" Joker asked.

"In fact, yes. We'll be leaving Tuchanka as soon as Tali finishes sweeping the ship for geth infiltrators again."

"I figured it would be like that," Joker nodded. "From the sound of things we really stirred up the Cazador nest. So, where are we off to?"

"Do _you_ have any suggestions?"

"Why does it matter? The _Maxson_ is basically just your flying taxi, right? It's just there to fly you from planet to planet while you get out and do the real work."

"That is correct," Shepard nodded absentmindedly. "But I still value your input."

Joker gave her a dirty look.

"Well," he said, managing to choke back further sarcasm, "I would prefer criminal warlords to corporate lawyers. But I doubt it matters what I say. I'm guessing you've already made up your mind."

Shepard nodded.

"Personal concerns can be important, but I see the big picture."

"Fair enough. Care to make an announcement?"

Shepard's turned up in a grin. She took a wide-legged stance, put one hand on her hip, reached the other out to point and named the destination in a booming voice.


	7. Chapter 7

"Heavenly Palace!"

Joker winced as Shepard's voice echoed through the cabin.

"Glad you're excited," he said. "But why did you have me fly us here instead of any of our targets?"

"That's what Saren would have been expecting. If any geth on Tuchanka sent a message out, he knows we're hunting him. He may even know who we are. He's expecting us to zig or to zag. So we're going to zog."

"Won't he still be expecting us when we _do_ eventually get to one of the planets we need to go to?"

"Of course. But by then we'll be old news. He can't keep alert forever. The geth can, but that's a different matter. And there are other reasons. Ashley has roots in this place. Garrus is a turian. I want to see what happens."

"So we're here to make sure we give our enemies time to prepare _and_ mentally torture your team. Good to know."

"We might also take in an art gallery," said Shepard, ignoring or misunderstanding his sarcasm.

"Tell me this, Shepard. If I were to hunt down a copy of your holy book, would it mention your heroes abandoning whatever they were doing and wandering around at random a lot?"

"Well, _yes_," Shepard said, sounding sheepish for once. "But that's not why I'm doing this."

She paused in thought.

"_This time_," she finally added.

"Something to look forward to, then," said Joker.

"Believe it."

* * *

The view from the spaceport was dominated by the giant statues of a human ranger and a turian soldier shaking hands. The monument was meant to commemorate the peace accord that ended the brief conflict known only as the Relay 314 Incident. It would have been more historically accurate if the clasped hands were being held together by a similarly giant asari, but it was the sentiment that counted. The turians wanted to forget the overzealousness of their attack and the humans the inadequacy of their defense.

Past the statues lay the colony proper. At the time of the Incident it had been predominantly populated by the Shi people of San Francisco. After the system became a hub of cultural and technological exchange between human space and the rest of the galaxy, a massive wave of immigrants overwhelmed the original population. Large companies, both human and alien, set up shop on the planet. The holographic walls outside the spaceport enticed visitors to visit various museums, theaters, and art galleries. But the city beyond still exuded that rustic colonial charm, its streets lined with low, broad buildings with classically rounded corners.

As Shepard's part and _Maxson's_ crew alike filed out of the ship, Shepard pursed her lips and paused in her tracks. For a moment the others tried to flow around her but the moment they realized she stopped, each of them came to a halt as well. The party was faster with this than the crew, having spent more time obeying Shepard's instincts, but soon enough the procession was frozen.

"Too unwieldy," muttered Shepard. "Even if it's just the main group, there are too many of us. Break up into groups of two or three. That includes you, you, and you," she added, pointing to Captain Anderson, Chief Engineer Adams, and Joker in turn. Her finger hovered around XO Pressly in a gesture of uncertainty but finally did lower itself. "And you."

As everyone moved to obey her commands, Shepard moved through their midst. Seeing Garrus and Tali forming a duo, she grasped Garrus's wrist and twirled him at Ashley. She almost casually hip-bumped Tali toward Joker, moved in a small circle to direct Kaidan towards Anderson and Adams, and tripped Maelon, causing him to practically fall on Pressly. When she came to Liara she paused for a moment, holding a hand to her forehead and moving her lips. Finally, she gave her a gentle push towards Garrus and Ashley.

That left Shepard alone with Conrad. She extended her hand to him and he took it gingerly. She gripped hard and whipped around, practically throwing him at Joker and Tali. She stepped back and nodded in apparent satisfaction.

"I have things to do. I'll check in on all of you when I have the time. Have fun. Learn something."

And just like that she half-ran down the steps and spun her way into the passing crowds.

* * *

The Metropolitan Museum of Art was built in a style resembling Asari architecture, tall and open, particularly majestic among the rather utilitarian-looking buildings of the colony.

"Why are we here?" asked Tali. "Not that I mind, necessarily, but I was hoping to check out some of the tech stores."

"If Shepard wanted you looking at technology, she'd have paired you up with Adams," said Conrad. "She put you with the two of us, so she must want you to see something else."

"Do you always do whatever you think Shepard might want?" asked Joker.

"_Always_," answered Conrad, the light of conviction shining in his eyes.

"Look, I said I don't mind," said Tali. "From what I understand the museums in this city are designed to showcase human culture. I would like to see how you think of yourselves."

"That's great," said Conrad, completing his transaction with the ticket counter via his omnitool. "Let's do it then!"

They entered through the archway. The very first painting they saw was of a man standing on a beach. He wore a necklace made of coral stones and the teeth of some sea beast contrasting against the tan skin of his bare chest. His arms were adorned with some kind of bracelets hung with limp and wet yet colorful feathers. The sun played in his hair. The picture was enormous, nearly three times taller than any of the visitors, and positioned so prominently as to be impossible to miss.

"That's…interesting," said Tali, admiring the human's pectorals. "Who is it supposed to be?"

"No idea," said Conrad.

"I know who that is," said Joker. "That's Icarus."

"Tell me about him?" asked Tali.

"Sure. He was the son of a guy named Daedalus. The two of them had to escape an island for reasons that are a whole other story. Daedalus built them both wings out of bird feathers and wax."

"Did that work?" asked Tali.

"For Daedalus it did. Icarus flew too close to the sun. Burned his wings up and dropped straight into the ocean. Then he sank to the bottom and had some adventures with naiads before coming out. That's the part the picture depicts. Then there is this big story about Icarus finding his father again…I'm sorry, I'm not telling it right."

"No, no," said Tali. "It sounds very interesting."

"No, trust me. I used to read those stories all the time as a kid. _Especially_ the story of Icarus. It's probably half the reason I'm a pilot. Look, if this picture is here, I bet they'll have the e-book at the gift shop. Or if not, then I can get it through _Maxson_. You have to read it, okay? You're going to love it."

Joker looked at his companions noticing the tilt of Tali's helmet and the grin on Conrad's face.

"What?" he demanded.

* * *

Garrus and Ashley exchanged awkward looks.

"I think we both know exactly what Shepard wants from us," said Garrus. "But we don't have to talk about what happened here. We could go get a drink. Maybe shop for new gun mods. I hear the Gun Runners are in town."

"No," sighed Ashley. "It's all right. I'm a big girl. Let's do this."

"I don't understand," complained Liara.

"Oh, that's right. You weren't here when Shepard introduced Sharing Time," said Ashley.

"Excuse me?"

"Anyway, the point is that my grandfather was the garrison commander who surrendered this planet to the turians. Shepard sent me out with a turian and an asari hoping I'll have some kind of an epiphany."

Liara frowned.

"I'll go first," said Garrus. "From our side the whole thing was one big clusterfuck. Our fleet came out to find the humans actually in the middle of trying to open a relay. The admiral in charge panicked and tried to enforce a law the humans never heard of. Then the situation somehow turned into an occupation of the nearby colony. Our government has since apologized and agreed to pay reparations. That's all I know about what happened."

"I know even less," said Liara.

"I know more," said Ashley. "I could name every ship the turians shot out of the sky. I could describe the disposition of human forces and what the turian fleet could do to them. I could quote the turian speech about what would happen to the civilians if it came down to urban fighting. So believe me when I say: my grandfather was completely right to order the surrender."

"I'm guessing that's not a universally held opinion," said Garrus.

"You don't know the half of it. My father spent his whole life fighting to be taken seriously by the Alliance military. It broke my heart. When it came time for me to try and uphold the honor of the Williams name, I sidestepped the issue by signing up with the rangers."

"I think I remember something about that," said Garrus. "Even after the surrender was ordered a group of survival specialists within your army disobeyed orders and kept fighting, right?"

"They didn't disobey. Rangers have their own chain of command, specifically because of situations like that. Neither my grandfather nor the colony's civilian government had the authority to order the rangers to stand down. And because they were trained to live off the land and move stealthily, they could fight the turians without getting bombarded _or_ endangering civilians."

"That seems like cheating," said Liara.

"The _good_ kind of cheating," Ashley grinned. "Anyway, it worked out. The rangers kept the turian army running in circles long enough for asari to step in and broker a diplomatic solution. I figured maybe being a Williams _and_ a ranger would let me do a mulligan. Start over from zero."

She shrugged and continued.

"A lot of rangers take part in military operations against pirates or batarians, but most of us just pull duty as the third line of defense on colonial worlds. I got stationed on Eden Prime and spent several pretty boring years there, followed by one really, _really_ exciting day. Now I'm following Shepard, so I guess my plan worked in the end."

"That seems…circuitous," said Garrus.

"Sometimes life works out that way," Ashley shrugged again.

"No, I get it. I wanted to be a Spectre when I was younger. My father was dead set against it. He thought that Spectres got away with too much, had too little oversight. So I became a regular cop for a while. But look at me now – trying to save the galaxy by fighting armies and assassinating machine cult leaders."

Ashley snorted. After a moment so did Garrus.

"This is informative and all," said Ashley, "But I'm not sensing any major breakthroughs here. I'm at peace with what my grandfather did and I'm pissed off at the way Alliance treated my family for it. But all that was true before Shepard landed us here."

"Maybe she wanted to see if you resented turians?" suggested Liara.

"Seriously?" Ashley frowned. "I made _one_ comment about aliens looking like animals. I hope she didn't make any assumptions about me based on that."

"I'm sure that's not the case," Liara tried to soothe her.

"That's not even inaccurate," Ashley couldn't be stopped. "Show a hanar and a gas bag from Eden Prime to someone who's never seen either before and have them guess which is an alien and which isn't. I guarantee you they won't beat chance."

"You seem a little defensive, Ashley," said Garrus.

"I _am_ a little defensive. If Liara's guess is right, Shepard might think I'm a racist. And in case you forgot that's a cardinal sin in her religion. And somehow I don't get the feeling that she deals with sinners at all well."

"She's dealing with Maelon. I'm sure she'd be happy to make accommodations for you."

"I'm not Maelon!" exploded Ashley. Then she tried to pull herself together. "And I don't need any accommodations. I don't have a problem with aliens. I'm not always a hundred percent crazy about alien _governments_ but that's because I suspect they'd screw us if it was more convenient for them, just like I suspect us of doing the same to them. Individuals, though? No problem at all. Have I either given any of you any crap?"

The other two shook their heads.

"Maybe that's what Shepard wanted?" suggested Liara. "For you to confront your distrust of alien institutions? Or maybe for the two of us to be clear about your beliefs?"

Ashley frowned and creased her forehead in thought.

"Sounds a little abstract," she finally said. "I don't think any of us can guess Shepard's motives with any degree of reliability. How about we just keep talking and see if anything jumps out at us?"

"Maybe _that_ is what Shepard wanted?" said Liara.

"And no more guessing."

* * *

There weren't that many tall buildings anywhere in Heavenly Palace. As usual with Vault-style architecture, common in certain regions of Earth and even more common out in the colonies, the important buildings were instead broad and when extra levels were really needed, they were just as likely to be under the ground as above it. Still, there were a few exceptions. The industrial district in particular had quite a few tall buildings, mostly factories but a few warehouses as well. It was one of the few places in the city where one could really get lost in a shadowy alley. Shepard was apparently doing just that, her eyes darting from one wall to another as she strolled down the narrow street.

"Hello, Kasumi."

A nightkin type supermutant apparently materialized into being clinging to a rail three stories above Shepard. The ugly ogre-like creature let go and crashed to the ground, towering over the petite Courier.

"Shepard! Don't you know it's very rude to look at invisible people?"

"Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people?" countered Shepard.

"Ah, but when I do it it's quirky and delightful. When _you_ do your thing, you're just showing off."

"There there," Shepard reached up to pat the top of Kasumi's head. "To business?"

"Sure," Kasumi grinned, exposing her enormous yellow teeth. "What do you have for me?"

Shepard reached into her satchel and pulled out Kirrahe's handgun.

"It shoots some kind of sticky bombs," she explained. "A mass effect field holds them in place. I'm not sure if the gun or the bullet generates that. It's DNA locked, but you should be able to take it apart. But it's salarian so watch out for booby traps."

"Oh, _yes,_" Kasumi clapped her huge hands together, making the windows vibrate. "Salarians make the best stuff."

"This belonged to a krogan," Shepard continued, proffering a Spike Thrower shotgun. "It shoots high-velocity penetrating rounds at point blank range. It can also be switched to a concussive cloud of chaff."

"Not exactly new ground, but it should be worth something. Anything else?"

"Not yet. How is research into geth weapons going?"

"Great! Their plasma weapons aren't too different from ours. The batteries are, if anything, worse. But they can use them much more often thanks to external disposable heat sinks. If we figure out how to make those, we would _really_ be in business. We still have no idea _what_ the pulse weapons are."

"Armor?"

"A set of custom built suits, waiting for you in the port. Of course there's no salarian armor and there is a set of krogan armor you probably won't be using yet."

"Tuchanka got very wild," explained Shepard. "Nothing like I thought it would be. Augmentations?"

"Not really my department, but I've had someone compile a list of what's possible right now." Kasumi had climbed back up the wall again and was dangling her feet. "Getting another chip or five into your head would be easy, but if you had enough of them you _would_ be vulnerable to hacking attacks. I'm sorry, but there's no such thing as a computer that can't be hacked. Not even if everything's networked through biological gray matter. Same thing with limbs – getting your other arm replaced, maybe by something with a gun in it this time, would be pretty easy. But we still can't fix the health problems a metal skeleton would give you, and with enough fiddly electronics in you you'd be just as vulnerable as a geth or a power armor."

"I thought so," Shepard sighed. "It's not enough. Trading one set of weaknesses for another wouldn't help me."

"If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them," said Kasumi.

"Need something new. Not just a mind/machine interface but a blend of the two. Technology that lives and grows. Programmable organic matter."

"Well, yes, _obviously,_" Kasumi huffed a little. "But I meant more like technical insights. It's one thing to _ask_ for a revolution in bioelectronics, it's another thing to arrange one."

"I'm a history major," Shepard reminded Kasumi.

"Right. The point is, if these procedures don't appeal to you, your only choice is to wait. Also, try to bring us more interesting corpses. Maybe there's some race out there that can already do what you want. Just send us the dead body and we'll be much closer to giving you the upgrades you want."

"It's all right," Shepard shook her head. "I will make do with what I have for now."

"Never got the point of all that stuff, personally," Kasumi shrugged. "Tech you build into your body isn't that different from tech you carry on you. Your new armor will make you stronger, just like a different body would."

"There is some difference in my line of work," Shepard pointed out. "There is also an ideological component. Also, I want to live forever."

"I don't know about forever," Kasumi beamed. "But if you can get a few centuries added onto your lifespan, I say go for it."

Shepard just nodded.

"Anyway, I better go," said Kasumi, cloaking again. "You're not the only supplier I have to visit this week. If you find something else interesting, contact me the usual way."

Shepard nodded and watched Kasumi's invisible shape retreat into the distance.

* * *

"Give me a Black Curie," ordered Adams.

The bartender wordlessly pulled out a glass, spritzed two different liquors into it, then pulled a little packet off the shelf and broke it open, pouring radium powder into the glass. Adams nodded, picked up his drink, and joined his compatriots.

"Nice to see a place that carries the trimmings," he admitted. "Not all bars do."

"Your tastes are probably pretty tame by this town's standards," Kaidan said, pointing over his shoulder.

Adams followed Kaidan's gesture to see a giant robot with a dozen tin stars pinned to his square chest by refrigerator magnets. The robot raised a huge mug and poured a mixture of motor oil, lug nuts, and ball bearings into his steel trap of a mouth.

"There _is_ that," he admitted.

"This is nice," said Anderson. "Seeing new places, new people. I mostly just see the inside of a ship."

"So do I, really," said Kaidan. "Sometimes I come out to get shot at. This is better."

"I don't mind the ship," admitted Adams. "Anything's better than living in a shack for two hundred years."

"We all know you can top our stories," Anderson grumbled. "There's no competing with a ghoul."

"Oh, I don't know," Kaidan looked smug. "I think after another month or two with Shepard I'll be able to match pretty much any of them. I may not live as long as they do, but I'm living pretty fast."

"That's what it's about, isn't it?" said Anderson, taking another swig of his beer. "Having stories to tell at the end of the day. Though hopefully not from this place."

The others nodded in agreement.

"I wonder how the others are doing," said Kaidan, looking at a wall as if trying to see through it.

"If they're smart, they've found a place to hole up like we did," said Adams. "If they're not...maybe they'll have a story to tell us."

* * *

Maelon and Pressly stepped closer to each other as the group of shirtless men and women with chiseled muscles and oiled skin approached. Some of them were barehanded while others wielded wooden staves and strange little sticks connected by chains which they idly spun as they advanced.

"I don't understand," muttered Pressly. "Why is this happening?"

The answer came from the very back of the advancing group, where a very old man with pale milky skin and three eyes sat in the lotus position. He lifted his head, looking at the two yet not really looking _at _them.

"You follow The Shepard," he croaked out. "Your blood and her tears will mingle to make an offering to appease the ghosts of the past. One came before and because of him our people withered on the vine while the followers of the Dragon sold the birthright to the Bear. But I foresaw that one would come again and I led my followers to this place to wait for the Others to appear from the stars and to lay in wait to take what vengeance we may."

"Is this something I should understand?" asked Maelon, glancing sidelong at Pressly.

"I hope not. _I_ don't."

"It hardly matters," rattled out the old man. "The two of you are not in control of this situation. My followers outnumber you and are trained in martial arts. There is little you can do to stop them."

Maelon almost lazily stepped forward, getting close to one of the largest humans. The man threw a punch at Maelon's head. Maelon sidestepped it, swept the man's legs with his own powerful limb, then struck the side of the human's head with his overly-long fingers. His opponent dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"I'm not helpless," Maelon explained. "I've trained to be able to survive against a charging krogan in hand to hand combat. Your move."

"Lo Pan style!" cried the ancient.

He and his followers whipped out firearms and started shooting. Maelon and Pressly dove for cover.

"Are all humans crazy or just the ones I meet?" demanded Maelon, pulling out fire and ice bombs.

* * *

"It still sounds like you're saying we deserved to be attacked," complained Ashley.

"No I'm _not_," said Liara. "Ordering the attack was unquestionably wrong. I'm saying that the guiding principle used to order the attack was correct."

"I'm not sure I understand the distinction."

"If you saw a baby reaching for a gun it would be wrong to shoot the baby. But you'd still want to take the gun away, as quickly as possible."

"That was a very patronizing thing to say, Liara."

Liara's cheeks darkened as she turned to find Shepard suddenly standing behind her. She silently cursed to herself.

"I didn't mean it like that," she tried to stammer out an explanation. "All I meant to say was that humans didn't know about the dangers of opening a Relay without checking to see what lies on the other side first. It's hardly your race's fault. My people were similarly ignorant until the Rachni made sure we learned that lesson the hard way."

"We weren't ignorant," objected Shepard. "It was an old door left behind by a dead civilization with amazing technological powers. The possibility that there might be giant bugs waiting to kill us all behind it was always on our minds."

"Your people weren't prepared to face something like the Rachni," said Liara.

"Not without opening every old door we came across, no."

Liara frowned.

"I don't understand."

"Opening old doors is how we become strong enough to face the things hiding behind them. It's how a town in central California became strong enough to take back America. By plundering the knowledge, technology, and resources within old Vaults and military bases and research centers my people became strong enough to beat back every threat thrown at them by the Old World and the New. It takes more than knowledge to make a nation strong, but a nation can't be strong _without_ knowledge."

"And what happens if you find something behind an old door and you _aren't_ strong enough to take it on yet?" countered Liara.

"What happens if that door is opened from the other side?"

The two women stared at each other as if testing for weaknesses. At the same time the atmosphere between them was not particularly tense. The conversation at hand was more like a sparring match than a true contest.

"Obviously that possibility exists," acknowledged Liara. "But there is no indication the Rachni would have found us if we hadn't found them first. The danger of rousing a passive threat does exist. And because we're all interconnected, anyone taking a risk in that respect is taking it on everyone's behalf. So it's only fair if we all get a say in it."

"Nobody took a vote on whether to plunder the Vaults. People just did it, and when the Brotherhood of Steel tried to stop them, it was swept aside."

"I understand that's how your people do things, Shepard," said Liara. "You are risk takers. Or at least enough of you are that the rest of you can't stop them. But when we come together as a galaxy we often have to limit the way we've traditionally done things. That's the first lesson the asari learned. Adaptation is everything. If you don't change with the circumstances, you get left behind."

"That's fair," admitted Shepard. "But if I personally get the opportunity to open a Relay, I'm doing it."

"I would expect no less."

* * *

"Okay," said Tali. "It's your turn, Conrad."

"Aw, do I have to?"

"It is how this game works. I'm pretty sure," Tali answered seriously.

"Okay. Well…I often feel like people don't take me seriously. So even though I'm not married I sometimes tell people I am to make myself look more mature."

"It's you again, Tali," said Joker.

"I'm scared of spiders," she answered without even trying to argue.

"That's not embarrassing," he protested. "Most people are scared of spiders."

"You don't understand, I'm _terrified_ of them. I'll shoot giant lizards in the face with my shotgun, no problem. But show me a spider being all creepy and crawly and I just freak out."

"What do you say, Conrad?" asked Joker. "Do we count it?"

Conrad shook his head.

"Tell us something else!" he demanded.

"Well…um…has either of you seen the Fleet and the Flotilla?" Tali asked sheepishly.

"Wait, wait," said Joker. "I think I see Shepard. Quick, look like you're being civilized."

The three of them turned to stare at the black and white picture depicting something that roughly looked like a Brahmin ranch hand. It was surely a fine example of one of the post-War art movements, but none of them could guess which one.

"Excellent choice," said Shepard. "This is a very interesting place."

"Yes, of course," said Tali, not looking away from the picture. "Very interesting."

"Did you see the Icarus?"

"Oh, yes," Tali nodded. "Joker told us all about it."

"I…thought you would like that one," said Conrad, trying to figure out what to do with his hands.

"I do like it. But it's not my favorite thing here."

"Do you want to show us your favorite?"

"Of course I do. Come on!"

Shepard pulled them away and two rooms back, to a wall lined with old photographs. They'd passed it by before but Conrad couldn't remember seeing a picture that would particularly interest Shepard. But she seemed very sure of herself as she led them unerringly past some of the most iconic photos in human history like the return of the original Martian explorers or the first ever meeting of the Systems Alliance government and to a relatively nondescript picture in the middle section.

The group stared at it. The picture showed several men in formal pre-War clothes kneeling next to several more men in metal armor and football gear. Behind them stood a row of soldiers, some of them dressed in classic combat fatigues and others in an antiquated version of Ashley's original ranger armor. At the very center stood a man in a space suit with what looked like an inverted fishbowl with an antenna on his head. He clutched an advanced looking energy weapon that had many more tubes, knobs, and glass parts than what was reasonable.

"It's the Courier," said Shepard, jabbing her finger at the figure. "The original one. The clearest known photo. From the day he helped Oliver accept the Legion's surrender and handed Kimball the control of the Securitrons."

"No kidding," said Joker. "Why was he dressed like that?"

"That's why it's my favorite," said Shepard, looking positively giddy. "It's not a Parable, but it _should_ be. The Parable of the Space Suit."

"Okay?"

"He dressed like that because those things were _old_," explained Shepard. "The spacesuit and the matter modulator were both at least a century old. Everyone else in that picture was trying to live in the past. The Legion, obviously, but the New Vegas gangs were pretending they were living in an old movie about gangsters, and the NCR soldiers were trying to live in a war movie. Only the Courier saw the truth. They didn't have to live in the past when they could live in the future. They were a century into an age of space travel and energy weapons and they had to take it back and make those things commonplace again, not retreat to an imagined version of the past. The Courier knew how to move forward. How to let go and begin again."

"That's beautiful, Shepard," said Conrad, starry-eyed.

"That's why it's my favorite," repeated Shepard. "It's just like Icarus, only we can be sure that it happened."

Tali and Conrad nodded. And so did Joker, eyeing Shepard appraisingly. For the first time since he'd met Shepard he felt like he sort of understood her.

* * *

"Okay," Shepard announced. "Choice time."

The small group around her perked up.

"You can go in there," she pointed at a bar with darkened windows. "Anderson, Kaidan, and Adams have found a corner to get drunk and swap stories in. You can join them or find your own corner and I won't bother you until it's time to go back to the ship. Except you, Tali. If you go in, I'll make you talk to the robot."

"Duly noted," Tali answered flatly, knowing protesting would do no good.

"Or you can go in there," Shepard pointed at the club across the street. "It's better lit and more active. You will also have me to deal with. Your choice."

"Right," said Joker. "Don't take this as personally as you just implied it, but today's been weird. Sitting down with some whiskey is just what I need to feel like my normal self."

"Ditto," said Ashley.

"I could go either way," said Garrus. "I'm a star at the storytelling circle _and_ on the dance floor. But I think I'll check out what dealing with you constitutes this time."

Nobody even glanced at Conrad. His choice was already made. Liara was still at the museum, examining the pieces in storage. Evidently she had a theory about how human post-War paintings might correlate to what few pieces of art krogan produced after first being contacted by the Citadel, and the museum staff was only too happy to assist her in looking for evidence.

That left Tali, who was trying to surreptitiously search for any info on the robot from the extranet. It wasn't that she _minded_ clubs or spending time with Shepard, but she felt like she was being challenged. It was like Shepard thought she _couldn't_ talk to a robot if she wanted to.

The search revealed that the robot was one of thousands created by the Soviet military before the War. They reactivated themselves after the missiles fell and immediately went insane, waging war on the surviving population with giant bows and huge iron arrows, granting themselves medals they made up, and promoting themselves up the ranks. The visual analysis of the shoulders of this particular robot indicated that he believed himself to hold the rank of Double Field Marshal.

Tali decided that in this case discretion was the better part of valor and meekly agreed to go with Shepard.

"Not sure if either of you two _can_ get drunk," said Garrus. "I mean, isn't your suit sealed or something?"

"It _is_ a very technical process," Tali admitted.

"And don't I remember you saying something about one of your Messiahs blowing up some stills?"

"Gambling and consumption of alcohol are very controversial subjects," answered Shepard. "The general consensus is that partaking of either is fine in principle as long as you don't become addicted. It's also a bad idea to drink to excess."

"Otherwise you'll end up kissing a Deathclaw?" Tali teased her.

"I was thinking of drunk driving, but that works too."

Upon actually entering the club, Tali was suddenly awash in cheery upbeat music. Her suit's external sensors told her that the air was being kept deliberately warm and moist, with a mild breeze. She immediately wished that she could get out of her suit. Even more so as she saw Shepard shedding hers.

"What's going on?" asked Garrus as he watched Shepard ditching her hardsuit piece by piece, revealing the blue-and-yellow jumpsuit underneath.

"Armor impairs my movements very slightly," she explained.

"Oh? Does that mean you're finally ready to show us those dancing skills?"

"That's the plan," answered Shepard. Then she lifted one of her legs until it was nearly parallel with her body, using the position to pull off a boot.

Tali found herself blushing under her visor. She was sure the boys weren't doing any better.

"Didn't actually think you had it in you," muttered Garrus.

"That's weird. Don't you know what they say about California girls?"

"Not really."

"Figure it out from context," declared Shepard as a new song started.

Tali had actually been to a few clubs before and had seen what dancing normally looked like. For most people that seemed to mean moving rhythmically with one's feet planted solidly in place. Not Shepard. She broke into a flowing, gliding run to the center of the floor, where she spun around on one foot while the other traced an arc through the air. Then she brought the extended foot down but didn't stop spinning, instead picking up speed until she suddenly broke free of her position with a series of gleeful kicks.

Most of the other dancers stopped, either because they were watching Shepard with interest or because they were fleeing her wild movements in fear of having their heads accidentally kicked off. Tali couldn't blame them. She certainly wouldn't dare…

Shepard grasped her hand, forcefully pulled her in, and spun her around.

Tali tried to stabilize herself and make heads or tails of her surroundings. So far all she could figure out was that Shepard was somehow all around her, ducking under her arm, leaping over her leg, almost touching her yet never quite making contact.

Before Tali could quite stop spinning, Shepard suddenly exited her orbit to pull Conrad and Garrus in as well. She practically swung on their arms, then ran off on her own to do another wild dance around the edge of the dance floor, leaving her subordinates awkwardly stirring in the middle.

Tali wondered whether talking to a possibly-genocidal robot really would have been all _that_ bad.

* * *

Maelon and Pressly finally got back to the ship, exhausted, low on medigel, and reeking of sewer. When they found the rest of _Maxson's_ inhabitants gathered around Shepard in a big circle, they tried to casually sidle into it.

"What happened to you?" whispered Ashley.

Maelon was about to answer, but Pressly cut him off with a shake of his head.

"Forget it, Williams," he said instead. "It's ShiTown."

Ashley shrugged and went back to watching Shepard, who was twirling around in a set of sky blue armor. It didn't look all that special to Ashley, but she could barely tell the difference between different armor models by looking. She tried to watch Kaidan's reaction from the side of her eye. He was usually pretty good at this sort of thing. When she found his face a mixture of interest and confusion she knew she was supposed to be impressed. But she wasn't sure why.

She found out when Shepard began the next step of her demonstration. Her boots flared with blue light and she jumped into the air, rising well above the others' heads. Spotting two light poles in the distance Shepard extended her arms and shot out two thin metallic cords. The cords stuck where they hit, held in place by the gentle glow of a Mass Effect field. And then with a twitch of her wrists Shepard retracted the cords and thanks to Newton's Third Law she was launched into the distance like a stone from a slingshot. At the exact moment she passed the poles, the cords suddenly came unstuck and finished their retraction.

Passing under the famed peace monument Shepard extended her left arm and shot out a cord again, using the human ranger as a convenient way to change directions, going from horizontal flight to vertical ascent. She shot a cord at the turian statue and quickly retracted it, changing her angle. A few shots later she was at eye level to both statues, practically laying on her back as she reached the highest point of her arc. Just as she was about to start falling again, she suddenly shot two more cords out of her ankles and slinghshoted herself back toward the ship, now flying high overhead.

Then, just as suddenly, she became enveloped in a blue bubble, stopped moving forward, and gently sank to the ground.

Ashley was now genuinely impressed.

"W-what model is that?" asked Kaidan.

"No model," Shepard shook her head gently. "It's one of a kind. Constructed specifically to fit my needs. The production process is also too complicated to be done on an assembly line. Combining Old World metallurgy with a miniaturized Element Zero network requires constant attention from several professionals."

"I'm very happy for you, Shepard," Ashley said.

"Be happy for yourself. Everyone in my party gets special armor. Except you, Maelon," she pointed a finger at him. "Sorry, you were a surprise. It will take time for a salarian suit to be made."

Maelon just shrugged. Better armor would not have been unwelcome earlier that afternoon, but he managed without it.

"So we all get to fly through the air like deranged pyjaks?" asked Garrus.

"Could you?" asked Shepard. "Even with computer assistance?"

"I seriously doubt it. Even if I didn't crash into anything, I would _at least_ find a way to dislocate my shoulders."

"Good, because yours doesn't do that. Every armor does something different. You'll be getting mail about your own suits, but don't tell each other. It's more fun if it's a surprise."

Conrad raised his hand. Shepard acknowledged it with a nod in his direction.

"Do...I get an armor?"

"Of course."

He looked visibly relieved and gratified.

"I wasn't sure...because I'm not good enough to go out into the field."

"You're not," she answered. "But you might be one day. I believe in you."

* * *

"So how are we throwing Saren off our scent this time?" asked Joker. "Are we going to double back to the Citadel? Maybe go out to fight krogan mercenaries on some random planetoid? I hear Gamma Garden's nice this time of year if you like ultrashortwave radiation."

"No," Shepard said, gravely serious. "That's what they'll be expecting. We're going to Omega this time."

"Any particular reason?"

"Many particular reasons. We have a lot to do there, officially and unofficially. There will be guilt free targets there to help test our new members and our new equipment. His activities will be easier to find on Omega. Graceland is under Alliance control so whatever he's doing there will be very well hidden. Noveria belongs to the corporations and I'm still formulating a strategy to deal with them. On Omega his activities will be hidden by criminals. That will make things easier on us."

"Anything else?"

"This."

Shepard extended her omnitool and projected a holographic poster. It featured a deliberately crude red and yellow depiction of a bearded man in an advanced looking helmet and a promotional offer for undefined "merchandise."

"The Space Khans are on Omega," Shepard explained. "And I'm coming for them."


	8. Chapter 8

The party was gathered in the _Maxson's_ briefing room.

"All right, Garrus," said Shepard. "You used to be a policeman. Omega is the galactic capital of crime. So you get to give the briefing."

"Not sure it's a good qualification," complained Garrus. "On the Citadel we arrested serial killers. We didn't put them in charge."

"Close enough," shrugged Shepard.

"All right. Well, at the top of the heap is an asari named Aria. She's the official/unofficial First Citizen. She has a private army, a spy network to rival the Shadow Broker, and more money than some planets. She's also a major stabilizing influence on Omega. Keeps people from fighting each other. Makes long term plans."

"She makes crime sustainable," said Shepard, obvious disdain in her voice.

"Right," said Garrus. "Just below her are the three big mercenary outfits. They've got affiliates all over the galaxy but Omega is their home base. Aside from actual mercenary work they do a lot of racketeering, manufacture and distribute illegal goods, and even do some semi-legal work by moving cargo around. The Eclipse has a mystical theme going and attracts a lot of bored asari maidens, so they're never hard up for biotics. The Blue Suns were founded by a human, so they operate in the finest bandit traditions. They also like to tech up. The Blood Pack are mostly krogan. A lot of them are Weyrlocs, including the leadership. They probably won't like us."

"They probably wouldn't have liked us anyway after we humiliated them for Wrex," said Shepard.

"We're still doing that?" Ashley groaned. "I thought taking on a whole clan for him would have been enough."

"His request makes sense," countered Shepard.

"Anyway," Garrus was eager to change the subject. "Below them are smaller mercenary organizations and larger gangs. And of course the Space Khans," he added, and Shepard nodded in approval. "And then there is a thick layer of gangs, solo criminals, neighborhood militias, and quasi-legitimate security contractors. If we step in and try to right random wrongs like our cover story says we should, we'll find ourselves at war with half the station."

"The entire station," corrected Shepard. "Those who aren't criminals themselves have relatives or friends who _are_. If we begin an indiscriminate slaughter, they will rise up to protect or avenge those loved ones. The few who aren't involved will step in to help protect the semblance of social order they're used to. Even if we could win this sort of fight, we would leave behind nothing but a vast graveyard."

"I don't suppose just doing the things we actually came here to do is an option?" asked Maelon.

"I won't turn my back on suffering and corruption,' Shepard answered forcefully.

"Just thought I'd bring it up. What _is_ the plan then?"

"Surgical strikes. Take out key elements of leadership. Shift the balance of power to the least objectionable faction and make that faction less objectionable."

"Is that something else one of your Messiahs did?" asked Garrus.

Shepard nodded enthusiastically.

"New Reno. When the Chosen One came to that city, it was run by four criminal families. When the Chosen One visited other towns, he just killed the criminals. That's how the Den, which was half criminal and half legitimate, became completely legitimate. But New Reno was different. Crime was so woven into the fabric of the city that if you took it away the city itself would disappear. So the Chosen One acted more subtly. He eliminated the leaders of three of the city's four gangs through the use of trickery. He lied his way to one of them and poisoned him with his own drugs, causing his heart to stop. He slept with another's wife and daughter, allowing him access to the leader's personal safe and letting him use the safe's explosive trap against his owner. And he stole the oxygen tank of the third gang's elderly leader, causing him to suffocate. He could have destroyed the fourth leader just as easily, but instead he only sabotaged the most objectionable parts of his operation. After taking full control of the town that forth gang turned completely legitimate and the town found its lost moral code. We will replicate that feat."

"Dibs on not listening to an old man suffocate!" cried Garrus.

"Uh…dibs on not sleeping with anyone's wife or daughter?" Tali tried to play along.

"What about the Khans?" asked Liara. "How do they fit into your plan?"

"We wipe them out," said Shepard. glaring at nothing. "Every man and woman. Also every child who picks up a gun."

"Are they really so much worse than anyone else on that station?"

"Maybe not objectively," growled Shepard. "But this is personal."

"Did the Khans do something to you?"

"Not me. The town of Shady Sands. Long, long ago, back before it became the capital of a new nation, it was just a small settlement full of people trying to make ends meet. The nearby gang called Khans sought to destroy it. At a critical moment the Vault Dweller came to the town's aid, wiping out the Khans. The few survivors eventually founded the New Khans. The Chosen One found their encampment and destroyed them utterly. The few survivors fled to Nevada to become the Great Khans. NCR forces wiped out their camp. Then the Courier betrayed and killed some of them at Boulder City and took Boone to finish wiping them out at their main camp. The few survivors fled further east where the Bombardier eventually shelled their camp with heavy artillery. The few survivors fled south where they were eventually wiped out by NCR forces working in tandem with Texas rangers. The few survivors stayed on the move until they eventually made their way to the Asteroid Belt where their base was destroyed by the burgeoning Alliance. The few survivors made a new base in the Traverse which was destroyed by a Deathclaw commando unit not too long ago. Now the few survivors have rebuilt in Omega. But if they think they're far enough to escape justice, they're wrong."

Shepard finished her speech and glared at anyone to defy her. No one did, at least for now.

"Let's review some of the weapons and armor we're likely to face on Omega," she finally said. "Garrus, if you please?"

* * *

Exiting the ship, Shepard's party found several humanoids of assorted races waiting for them.

"What is this?" demanded Shepard, her hand instinctively gripping one of her guns.

A batarian in bulky dark armor stepped forward.

"Aria's interested in what brings the Alliance's champion to Omega. I suggest you go to the Afterlife club and present yourself."

And he walked away, leaving the four others behind. The next one to step up was a turian dressed in blue.

"Aria's not the only one who's noticed you. Hear Aria out if you want to, but come by the Blue Suns base sometime soon. Santiago has an offer to make you."

Shepard had let go of the gun by the time the salarian in forest green stepped forward.

"Just read this," he said nervously, pressing a personal log into her hands and hurrying off before he could get in the way of a krogan in deep crimson.

"If you're going to talk to any of these people, you'd better talk fast," the krogan said, looming over Shepard. "Because you won't last long on Omega."

"Let me guess," said Garrus. "You're with Blood Pack?"

"I'm reasonably confident in my ability to stop krogan from killing me," said Shepard smugly.

"Yeah? You should know that on the homeworld you were dealing with the krogan who _didn't_ choose to dedicate their whole lives to warfare and who _didn't_ spend hundreds of years fighting on every forsaken rock in this whole galaxy. This won't be as easy as you think."

Shepard sighed and engaged her helmet. Before the krogan could say another word, she slammed her forehead into his, causing him to stagger. His natural bone ridge was tough, but it wasn't quite a match for the Saturnite alloys in Shepard's helmet. Embarrassed and hurting, the krogan lumbered off, leaving behind an asari who wasn't wearing armor at all and whose clothes actually had multiple colors.

"Are you with the Eclipse?" asked Shepard.

"The port authorities, actually. Just here to tell you there's a crate waiting for you in the warehouse. It arrived today."

"Really?" Shepard looked surprised. "How interesting. It's too soon for Maelon's armor."

"Wouldn't know anything about that," said the asari, shooting a digital package from her omnitool to Shepard's. "But it's a pretty big crate so feel free to rend a loader."

"Maybe," said Shepard. "_After_ we investigate."

* * *

Shepard approached the crate with suspicion in her eyes. It was in most respects an ordinary crate and the one big difference – the words "IN GRATITUDE" spray-painted onto the side – didn't make it look particularly menacing. But in Shepard's world that crate could be full of geth assassins or wild monsters or at the very least a bomb. But when she finally swiped her omnitool across the built-in reader, signaling the crate to open itself, she found it was none of those things.

Just a salarian wearing a gag and bound with red ribbon.

"Did not see _that_ one coming," muttered Kaidan.

Garrus's eyes narrowed but he kept his comments to himself while Shepard untied the gag.

"Please, you have to protect me!" cried the salarian as soon as his mouth was free.

"From…whoever tied you up?" Shepard guessed.

"It was a turian Spectre…he said his name was Saren." The salarian was talking with a speed unusual even for his race, as if desperate to get the words out. "He attacked me…tied me up. Said that he was sending me to you to thank you for not trying to sabotage the genophage cure. That I was supposed to help you now. That if I was ever seen outside your ship or your company he would have me cut open and stripped for spare parts."

"That's an unusually specific threat," noted Shepard.

"And a very appropriate one," growled Garrus. "Hello, Saleon."

"Him too!" cried the salarian. "Protect me from him too, please!"

"I take it you two know each other," said Shepard.

"This scum bag used to be a doctor on the Citadel. An investigation into the sale of organs led back to him. Turned out he was using his employees as living test tubes. Cloning their own organs inside of hem then cutting them out. He fled before we could bring him to justice."

"Maelon?" Shepard gave him a meaningful look.

"When the krogan were originally developing a resistance to the genophage, their organs were modifying themselves. We put a stop to that. My cure is based on a different mutation. Secondary organs, unaffected by the genophage, take up the functions. But there are side effects. Damage to the patients' overall health."

"So someone who knew how to keep a patient alive with multiple sets of organs inside them?"

"Would be very helpful to my research, yes."

"Fair enough," Shepard leaned down to untie Saleon.

"Are you seriously considering this, Shepard?" demanded Garrus. "The man is a monster. He deserves a bullet to the head."

"Of course he does," Shepard nodded. "But I'm giving him a chance to _change_ what he deserves. To earn redemption. Just like Maelon."

"So are we just going to collect every salarian who's been cutting people up in the name of science?"

"That _would_ be useful," Shepard mused. "But I'm not sure the logistics allow it. Hey, what's this?"

Shepard leaned down to find a small disk that fell to the ground as she was untying Saleon. Plugging it into her omnitool she heard Saren's voice.

"Shepard. You impressed me. You should have left Maelon to his work but the current situation works well enough. Omega has a problem that needs your unique blend of carnage and compassion. Search the vorcha tunnels then come find me on Noveria."

* * *

Tali was beginning to worry.

Saren's message was the main thing that worried her. The fact that Shepard seemed to find it reassuring wasn't far behind. According to Shepard, it meant that Saren wouldn't try to move against them as long as they were on Omega. Moreover, if Saren wanted Maelon to survive he probably wouldn't engineer any situation that endangered the whole party even outside Omega. And at least for the moment they knew approximately where Saren was and could move against him at their leisure. All of which was true but Tali thought that the fact that Saren was able to track their movements so easily couldn't be good. She was determined to increase the thoroughness of her anti-geth scans.

The other thing that worried her also related to Shepard. That was why she set up a chat room for the party sans Shepard and Conrad who was back on the ship and not likely to listen to reason anyway when it came to anything Shepard did.

"I don't want to slaughter the Great Khans. What about you?" she typed out.

"I wouldn't lose sleep over it," answered Garrus. "But I don't want to kill them _more_ than I want to kill anyone else here. The way Shepard is singling them out has me worried."

"You heard what she said," Kaidan chimed in. "All of her Messiahs tried to kill them. And so did the NCR. And so did the Alliance. Her religion _and_ her country both seem to agree that they're the worst thing ever."

"You two don't seem to hate them as much," objected Tali.

"I'm not the patriot Shepard is," answered Kaidan.

"And I think the Alliance has better things to do than chase a gang across the stars. We picked a fight with them when they were picking a fight with us. Now that we've chased them all the way to Omega we've got more immediate threats to worry about."

"To be honest, I don't feel like risking my life against anyone I don't have to," typed Maelon. "But I don't think I get a say in this. Shepard more or less owns my life. She's free to put it in as much danger as she likes."

"Yeah – sorry about that," typed Garrus. "But you did kind of bring it on yourself."

"Oh, I know. I was just pointing out that I don't think I get a vote on this."

"This isn't a democracy," typed Tali. "Shepard makes the decisions. But I think if one of us talked to her, she might make a different one. I don't think it would mean much coming from me, though."

"Or maybe it _would_," suggested Liara. "Shepard knows how important your enmity with the geth is to you. If you convinced her you could put it aside, she might be willing to let go of her ancestral enemies as well."

Tali was so outraged she actually stumbled. Shepard glanced back at her and Tali tried to act nonchalant. As soon as Shepard went back to looking ahead, she went on the offensive.

"It's not the same thing at all! The geth destroyed my people. They took our homeworld. We _still_ wander the stars. The Khans might have had the power to threaten Shepard's people once, but now they're just a gang descended from broken and defeated people. I fight geth for the very survival of my race. Shepard is fighting the Khans out of _habit_."

"It _is_ the only thing I can think of that will work," typed Liara. "I'm not sure what else we can do that's dramatic enough to convince Shepard."

"I could talk to Conrad," suggested Kaidan.

"He'd take her side," objected Tali.

"He _might_ not. The Shepard he worships is an ideal. And to be honest, the flesh and blood Shepard often lives up to that ideal. If we could convince him that she's in danger of falling short, he'd do anything to help her stay perfect."

"But then we have to come up with something to convince _him_. I really think it would be easier if…"

"Humans are a blight on the galaxy!"

Tali's typing was interrupted. She looked up to find a batarian standing on an overturned crate, spouting hate speech.

"You, sir! You are a blight!" the batarian shook his finger at a human in his audience. In fact, his audience seemed to be composed entirely of humans, a fact that seemed lost on him.

Tali glanced at Shepard. She hoped that the Courier would let this go. Normally this kind of vitriol would certainly make Shepard jump into action, but this batarian seemed to be a harmless kook. Splattering his brains over the wall would do more to damage human reputation than anything he could possibly say.

Shepard took a step forward. Tali tensed but instead of going for her gun Shepard took another step forward, then another. She jumped onto the crate, leaving her face to face with the batarian, who had tried backing up only to have the back of his head hit the wall. Suddenly Shepard grabbed him and held him close, pressing a forceful kiss on him. She kept it up for several seconds as he struggled and mewled. When she finally stopped and stepped away, the batarian ran off like he was on fire. Shepard grinned in triumph.

"I…can't believe you did that!" said Tali.

"It was nothing to me. But his hatred made it very unpleasant to him. Trust me, Tali. I know what I'm doing."

Tali dearly wished she could believe that.

* * *

The party wound its way through Omega's corridors. The side tunnels were filled with mysterious creaks, random puffs of steam, and shady characters. Fortunately, the group was large enough and carrying enough guns to warn off anyone looking for extra spending money or just a victim to torment.

At one point they passed a spiraling stairway leading into the bowels of Omega. On the wall next to it was a turian's corpse, staked to the wall with crudely sharpened pipe sections. A casual omnitool scan turned up the corpse's identity – a Captain Gavin, formerly responsible for keeping the vorcha in line. Shepard gave it a thoughtful nod as they passed, as if categorizing it as a problem to deal with later, but didn't falter until they reached the entrance of a clinic.

"I think it will be best if Maelon and I go in and the rest of you stay out here. A heavily armed party entering this place will send the wrong message," said Shepard.

"Is a heavily armed party hanging _just outside_ this place going to send the right message?" asked Kaidan.

"_Yes_."

"Thank you for doing this, Shepard," said Maelon.

"It made sense. And now is a good time. We'll need to meet with some of the leaders of this place soon. Once we begin the assassinations things will get loud. And I have a feeling that whatever is in the vorcha tunnels will be louder still. Better to do this now, before we've had a chance to stir up other trouble."

She and Maelon stepped through into the clinic, to be greeted by a wheeled TV with arms.

"Hello there!" the robot declared in a cheerful voice. "How can I help _you_ today?"

Shepard stepped slightly to the side, pulling Maelon with her so that the machine guns and missile launchers imbedded in the machine were no longer aimed directly at the two of them.

"A personal visit from an old student and colleague,' she answered quickly. "Mordin will want to see him."

"Okey-dokey! Step right through the door and turn left at the end of the hallway. Don't make trouble now!"

"Maybe we should have taken Tali," Shepard muttered. "Or at least Kaidan."

"Why?" Maelon whispered back.

"That thing was a Securitron. Not quite as tough as some of the machinery I encountered on Eden Prime or Tuchanka, but not a pushover either. And with when it comes to Securitrons, if there's one around, there's more than one."

"We're still hoping it won't come to violence, though. Right?"

"I almost never _hope_ for violence. But I've killed more people than some battalions."

Casting uneasy glances around looking for more robots the two made their way to a room full of medical equipment. Both focused their attention on a salarian hunched over a table.

"Professor?" Maelon called his attention.

The older salarian looked up.

"Maelon! Good to see you. Who's your companion?"

"I'm _her_ companion, really," Maelon spoke quickly to get in a word edgewise between Mordin's rants.

"Human female. Advanced armor of unknown make. Likely special forces. Posture not overtly military but alert."

"I'm a Courier," Shepard interrupted.

"Yes, that makes sense. Couriers descended from irregular forces. Low emphasis on discipline. High emphasis on ability. Can't imagine better company."

"Thank you?" Shepard said but was mostly ignored.

"What brings you to Omega?" asked Mordin.

Maelon swallowed and got straight to the point.

"I'm trying to cure the genophage."

Even Mordin fell silent at that one, taking a moment to digest this information.

"Does the human know?" he asked finally.

"I know everything," answered Shepard.

"Security breach dangerous. Unavoidable?" seeing Maelon nod Mordin continued. "Don't understand. Preservation of genophage necessary. Whole team agreed."

"Yes. Well. I don't agree anymore," said Maelon.

"You can't preserve it anyway," added Shepard. "Wrex is looking for a cure. Natural mutations occur. Sooner or later you'll get found out, even _if_ I choose to stay quiet."

"Genophage cure could lead to war too. Possibly on grander scale. Krogan currently stabilizing, rebuilding. Any major disruption could cause them to backslide. Population pressure could lead to warfare on the level of krogan rebellions."

"First of all, I don't really care," began Shepard.

"Not thinking correctly," Mordin interrupted her.

"What do you mean?"

"Had krogan charge you?"

"More than once," Shepard responded proudly.

"Right. Me too. Both still here. Both strong. But strength isn't universal. Imagine krogan charges someone else. Friend. Family member. Someone not strong like you. Possible outcome. _Must_ be accounted for in moral calculus. Can't just think like a strong person."

"You're manipulating the genetics of another species. In peacetime. It's wrong. That's all there is to it," Shepard said stubbornly.

"Right and wrong must consider the cost in lives," countered Mordin. "Without people right and wrong are just words. No meaning."

"And all the lives taken by the genophage don't count?"

"Genophage takes no lives. Stops nervous system development in development. Still must be considered. Very difficult decision. Made on the highest levels."

"Highest levels!" Maelon interrupted indignantly. "Tell me, how many people on our highest levels walked through the fields surrounding First Grove? Saw a krogan female take her own life because she failed to produce live young? Most of our simulations of krogan behavior were made by people who've never _spoken_ to a krogan."

"Cannot deny krogan are dangerous. Used nuclear weapons on own planet."

"So? That happens sometimes," answered Shepard, daring Mordin to argue the point.

"Salarian intervention worsened things. Too much advancement too fast. Like giving nuclear weapons to cavemen."

"You know, I hear people say that all the time," Shepard butted in again. But have you actually _tried_ giving cavemen advanced weapons? We did. They did fine. No worse than anyone else."

Mordin just blinked at that one.

"Please, Professor," Maelon begged. "The krogan aren't barbarians. They've earned the chance at redemption."

"Situation morally complex," Mordin acknowledged. "Cannot condemn efforts. But neither can condone them. Can't assist in research."

Shepard's hand slowly cupped her pistol when she saw a drell gently drift into her view. Having dealt with a drell before, she picked out a grenade instead, holding it out as if challenging the drell to come into melee range.

"Is there anything we can do to change your mind, Professor?" asked Maelon.

"Wouldn't recommend violence," answered Mordin. "Old but still quick. Securitrons cleared of any backdoors a Courier might use. The drell is a trained assassin. Provides additional security and does odd jobs in exchange for medical treatment. Kepral's syndrome. Very common in drell. Currently trying to eradicate it."

"If we help you cure your disease…would you help us cure ours?" asked Shepard.

"Come again?" asked Maelon.

"I do things for people. You should know this," Shepard answered him. Turning to Mordin, she pressed her point. "You seem to view the genophage cure as morally neutral. The Kepral cure must be morally good. Together they should still be good. Two species rescued at once. What do you say?"

"How do you plan to deliver?" asked Mordin.

"No idea," answered Shepard. "Maybe my medical team can figure out a cure. Maybe human scientists can. Maybe some hanar already has the cure and is withholding it because he fears the drell are too violent to be trusted," she added a little extra emphasis to that last part. "But I will give it my best and I have a way of getting things done."

"You are very strange," said Mordin.

"That's a yes," said Shepard, breaking out in a grin.

"It is," acknowledged Mordin. "Help me cure Kepral's syndrome and I will do what I can to help you cure the genophage."

"How do you do these things?" asked Maelon.

Shepard just kept grinning.

* * *

"How did it go?" asked Tali.

"Basically? We have to cure two diseases instead of one now," answered Maelon. "And somehow that manages to be a good thing."

"There was a drell assassin in there," added Shepard. "He's following us now."

The others reflexively looked up but couldn't see whatever Shepard was seeing.

"If he wanted to kill us he would have either attacked us in there or waited for us to go somewhere and _then_ followed us," Shepard continued like nothing had happened. "I think he's just watching to see what we do."

"What _are_ we going to do?" asked Liara.

"Eventually we'll need to meet with the crime bosses of this place. But I'm still thinking about whom to assassinate. I won't know for sure until I _do_ meet them, but I don't think I'm ready yet."

"So…"

"I was thinking we'd hit the marketplace and see if anyone _there_ had ideas for things we could do."

Four of the team's members simultaneously sighed. Liara and Maelon, who had missed out on that part of the Tuchanka experience, could only stare in bafflement.

It was at that moment that someone around the corner screamed. Shepard ran directly towards the scream in defiance of common sense in places like Omega. The others followed her.

Rounding a corner they found several salarians being menaced by a vorcha. Well…_technically_ it was a vorcha. It was half again as tall as a normal vorcha and nearly twice as broad. Several asari heads had apparently been surgically grafted to its body. Their hair tentacles and lips moved apparently of their own accord, though they failed to produce a sound. The vorcha picked up one of the salarians with an oversized hand. The hapless victim screamed as his body immediately began to blacken. Within a seconds it finished and then crumbled, as if turning to ash. The vorcha turned to the remaining two salarians and suddenly noticed the heavily armed party that was sharing the corridor. It opened its mouth and screamed like a fox. The asari heads also opened their mouths, revealing that they had no tongues.

And the group froze.

It was hard to remember the effects of that scream after the fact, but the overall consensus was that it was just like experiencing a moment of sheer paralysis inducing panic. The party was trapped inside their own heads, unable to reach for their weapons even as the vorcha marched forward.

All except Shepard.

When the new sensation entered her head, Shepard decided to assign it low priority. That didn't totally nullify the effect but it enabled Shepard to shake it off just enough to defend herself. Moving with none of her usual grace she reached for the gun, pulled it out, and took a shot. The concentrated electromagnetic pulse was meant for knocking out ships and disabling computers, but standing in its way wasn't advisable even for an organic. The vorcha spasmed and as its nervous system struggled to sort itself out after the shock, the spell of its scream was broken. Several other sidearms made their way up and unleashed their bullets. The vorcha fell back, bleeding from multiple flesh wounds. It forcibly tore a dirty-looking syringe out of its pocket, drove the needle into its own thigh, and pressed down on the syringe.

Normally a syringe like that used in the heat of battle would either contain a stim pack or some variety of combat drug. Apparently this one contained something quite different. The half-dozen asari heads suddenly grew necks. Long, bendy necks. For a moment they extended themselves from the body like snakes rearing to strike. Then they suddenly bent themselves in two and began biting and tearing at the vorcha's own flesh.

Before things could get much worse, Shepard threw an incendiary grenade. The creature screamed again, not as an attack but as an expression of raw pain. But it did nothing to protect itself as it finished burning, heads and all."

"I was planning to put off dealing with the vorcha," Shepard contemplated the burned corpse. "But now I think I should look into this as quickly as possible.

She turned around and led the party towards an entrance to vorcha territory.

* * *

No part of Omega was exactly chic. Even the area immediately surrounding the seat of Aria's power was filled with rusting metal, filthy floors, and vagrants sleeping in cramped maintenance tunnels. But the part of the station reserved for the vorcha was worse than that. Most of Omega was built out of old mining tunnels, but on the upper levels a lot of work had been done to convert those tunnels to a proper arcology. Not here. The web of uneven rough-hewn tunnels connected huge chambers that once held useful metals and were now filled with crudely-built shelters.

And all these shelters were empty.

"This is weird," said Garrus. "I get that the thing we just killed probably wasn't the _only_ monster running around down here, but if all the vorcha turned into monsters then we should really be running into them by now. And if the monsters ate the non-monsters, we should at least be seeing some corpses."

"That thing didn't leave any," protested Ashley.

"I doubt all of them share that trait," said Maelon. "No two vorcha are alike. They're the only species more diverse than humans. They mutate radically to adapt to their environment. Saren likely took advantage of the adaptation abilities to breed an army. Unless I miss my guess, he's using the Forced Evolutionary Virus. No one's used it on vorcha before but it seems natural to assume it would jump-start their natural adaptation."

"Saren didn't want this," said Shepard thoughtfully. "He asked me to go down here, kill people, and show mercy. If his army is down here, he's lost control of it."

"Makes sense," said Garrus. "The one we encountered didn't seem like it would make a very good soldier. Doesn't explain where all the vorcha went, though."

"If they're not monster and they're not dead then they are somewhere else."

"Technically, they could be monsters _and_ somewhere else," threw in Tali, hoping that wasn't true. There were tens of thousands of vorcha down in these tunnels. Maybe hundreds of thousands. And Shepard would pick a fight with each and every one of them.

Shepard shook her head.

"They'd need to be penned up for that. Can you think of a way to hold so many super adaptable monsters in one place?"

"I'm trying to figure out how this got started," said Kaidan. "But Omega news is fifty percent propaganda and fifty percent sponsored content. Here's what I've got so far: the vorcha used to be on the bottom of the pile around here. Same as most places. The Blood Pack used them as cannon fodder, some organizations sold them as slaves, and the rest of Omega treated them like pests. Then about a year ago things started to change. The vorcha got organized, pushed back pretty hard. Then they more or less cut contact. People who went down into their tunnels didn't come back, but that was pretty normal. The monster sightings started only a few weeks ago, but they've been getting more frequent."

"So whatever's happening, it's a new development," mused Liara. "I wonder if…"

Her thought process was interrupted by a loud claxon.

The party rushed to the windows to get a glimpse of the commotion outside. There a party of mutated vorcha seemed to be hunting one of their own number. The hunters were dressed in leather and thick cloth occasionally studded with metal pieces. There were six of them in total. The most striking was huge, with the general shape of a kroglodyte and an even greater size. Another was tall but almost skeletally thin, with claws that looked like they'd been stolen from a Deathclaw. The third was covered in something that seemed to be a cross between tumors and balloons and floated under its own power, its vestigial legs looking like a lobster's claws. The other three didn't _look_ immediately wrong, but that proved very little.

Their prey was even more freakish. It had a greatly lengthened body, an equally greatly enlarged head, and many legs. The overall effect looked like a cross between a centipede and a Shi dragon. Its eyes were replaced by those of an insect and tiny secondary moths snapped where its ears should be.

Making huge amounts of noise the hunting party descended on their intended prey. The more normal-looking members of the group fired their guns at the creature, to no apparent effect. But whether or not the shots hurt it, they certainly made it mad. The dragon whirled around, snapping at its pursuers. It avoided the huge vorcha and whirled around, trying to tackle the flying one. That one dodged the tackle only to be caught by the swing of the tail. Something barbed caught it and several of its balloon-like growth burst, releasing green pus. It fell to the ground as the dragon whirled around at the others.

One of the normal-looking vorcha opened its mouth and spit acid at the dragon. Another glowed blue and extended its hands as if in a grabbing motion. Two of the dragon's many limbs glowed blue as well and were ripped from its body a moment later. But none of that was enough to stop the dragon. It tackled the acid-spitting vorcha and began chewing on it.

One of the hunting party pulled a long, slender-looking rifle from its back. It took aim and fired but instead of the dragon hit its own comrade, currently being savaged by it. The one shot screamed – even more than it had already been doing – and suddenly its skin burst and sloughed off as huge plates of armor grew underneath it. The armor looked organic, like something an oversized bug might produce. It also looked uncomfortable to have on. But it did the job of resisting the dragon's teeth. At least long enough for the huge vorcha to grab it and pull and the tall one to start slashing at it with claws that seemed to hum and vibrate as they sliced flesh apart.

The dragon was formidable but not enough to resist the combined assault. Within half a minute the fight went out of its body and it dropped. After another half a minute of savaging it, just to be sure, the hunter vorcha lifted it, placing it on a repurposed loading dolly. The newly-armored vorcha picked its own rifle off the ground, took aim at the formerly-floating vorcha now lying on the ground, and took a shot.

The fallen vorcha's body rumbled and suddenly burst apart as a smaller vorcha exited it. It was about half as tall as a regular vorcha and deep red. The hunters viewed it with suspicion but it hissed and growled something that was apparently reassuring and helped haul its former body onto the dolly. Then it sat down on the dolly itself and began to chew, alternating between eating its own corpse and that of the dragon.

Their business concluded, the hunters made their way out of the chamber and down one of the tunnels.

"Follow them," ordered Shepard.

* * *

Following the vorcha hunters discretely was not very hard. They deliberately made a lot of noise, perhaps trying to attract prey – or terrify it. Either way, Shepard's party could always afford to stay well back and usually around the corner. Half an hour into the pursuit they got to witness the hunters take down another vorcha – a hunchbacked humanoid that apparently survived by eating rocks and was just as apparently deaf.

"I can't tell if this is a foraging expedition, a training run, or a pogrom," said Ashley.

"I think they're killing off the members of their population who've gone feral," said Maelon. "Under normal circumstances vorcha don't experience adverse effects in their adaptation, but forced evolution could be different. Change the brain as well as the body. Destroy the higher faculties. The saner members of the species may be going after the others, keeping them in check."

"But they keep mutating themselves while they do it," noted Garrus.

"Yes," Maelon frowned. "Frequent mutations under high stress situations...sooner or later that will lead to more ferals."

"Which will lead to more hunts," Garrus continued. "More fights. More mutations. This isn't a clean-up. It's a slow suicide."

"It's not an uncommon behavior," said Shepard, calling on her knowledge of Post War history. "The ones who gain strength without going mad get an advantage over those who decline forced mutation. They have the power to warp society's priorities. After a while it becomes a purification ritual. A way to weed out the unworthy. And all the while society dies."

"Sounds gruesome," said Tali.

"And stupid," added Shepard.

"Still, it seems like they _have_ a civilization," said Ashley. "At least for now. If we keep following them long enough we'll run into a town or a settlement of some sort. Which might be more than we can handle. Unless you're prepared to unleash the Cloud on them again?" she looked at Shepard sidelong.

"Not a good idea," Shepard shook her head. "Some of them might adapt to it. I don't want to see what that will look like."

"Actually," Kaidan interrupted. "I've been mapping their course. And it looks like they're circling around something. It might be their home base or something they're afraid of. Either way, I figured you might want to check it out."

"If we do, we'll lose the ones we're following," warned Ashley.

"That's fine," said Shepard. "If these patrols happen all the time, we can find another one. I want to see what's at the center of that circle."

* * *

Getting to a precise point in the tunnels was not actually all that easy. The tunnels followed the former ore seams and tended not to stick to a particular direction for very long. But given enough effort and patience, the party eventually made it nearly to their destination, only to be stopped by a brick wall with a small metal door in it.

"So this _is_ their home base?" asked Liara.

"Not...necessarily," answered Shepard. "I'll risk it.

Motioning for everyone else to stay around the corner, she walked up to the door and knocked. A small slit opened up and a pair of vorcha eyes stared into her own.

"Who are you?" a voice demanded. It was like a normal Vorcha's voice but somehow less grating.

"My name is Zetta Shepard. Today I am a monster hunter."

There was a momentary pause.

"Okay, you can come in. But don't make trouble."

"Don't tell me what to do," Shepard muttered as she motioned for the others to follow her. The normal-looking vorcha at the door seemed perturbed by this development but ultimately decided to let them through.

On the other side of the wall were several vorcha dressed in hardsuits and wielding ordinary-looking guns as well as a vorcha that probably couldn't fit into a hardsuit thanks to large crystals growing out of its body. One of the armored vorcha escorted the party down the corridor and into a larger chamber which contained a scorched-looking building and a whole lot of other vorcha.

"I don't think this is the hunters' home," whispered Liara. "These vorcha all look too ordinary. Mostly," she added as a vorcha with very long arms and metallic-looking skin passed by.

"You ran into a Wild Hunt?" the vorcha leading them asked. "I hope you left them alone. They're the lesser of two evils."

"We didn't kill anyone," answered Shepard. "_Yet_."

"Good. Aeolus will want to see you. Please don't kill him either. We need him."

They entered the large building and walked up a flight of stairs. Liara noted that the vorcha became less normal as they walked. More and more mutations showed up. But for the most part they were not grotesque disfigurements like those found outside. Some of the vorcha had strange skin or extra limbs. Some stood taller or shorter than the rest of their kind. One had an extra eye in the middle of its forehead. Maelon shuddered upon seeing him for some reason, which Liara thought strange. It didn't come close to being the most objectionable thing she'd seen today.

Finally they were lead into a large room where several more mutated vorcha stood. These ones had enormous heads. Liara didn't have a good comparison for them. To the humans they looked like the traditional depiction of an alien, which may or may not have been based on a real species. The one with the largest head, dressed in fancy ceremonial robes, stepped forward.

"Greetings. I trust you are the reinforcements we were promised?"

"I trust you work for Saren?" asked Shepard.

"_With_ Saren."

"Did you know he plans to end the galaxy?" Shepard asked, hand near her hip.

"That seems unlikely," Aeolus answered. "In all our interactions he seemed like a man planning for a future. An uncertain future, perhaps, but a future nonetheless."

"I'm assuming he personally plans to survive," clarified Shepard. "He's just planning to bring down an invasion on top of everyone else."

"And you think his activities here were designed to weaken the galaxy?" Aelous asked. "Still unlikely. I can think of no better way to do that than allow events to proceed unchecked. Why should he send you here to help fix things?"

"He didn't send me. I came here to _foil_ his plans," Shepard clarified.

"Then you're here to aid the monsters stalking these caves?" asked Aeolus.

"No. I want to wipe them out."

"Then you _are_ here to help Saren," Aeolus said triumphantly.

"What happened here, anyway?" Shepard asked, giving up. "How did you get mixed up with Saren and how did it lead to all this?"

"Saren offered us power and control over our own destiny. In exchange we had to submit ourselves for medical experiments. It was a better deal than we were likely to get elsewhere. Once we agreed he supplied everything we needed. Dozens of strains of the Forced Evolutionary Virus. Special chambers to emulate any number of environments. Exotic substances. Geth assistant to set up experiments and keep track of data for us. We began our tests. The results weren't always good but in time we began learning how to change ourselves in ways we wanted."

He paused, took a deep breath, and continued.

"Some of us didn't want to wait. Some of the lab personnel began selling the virus on the streets with no regard for our data. We tried to put a stop to it but it was too late. The sellers and the customers stormed the labs, overpowered the guards, and took most of our virus supplies. Hiding out in the city they threw the virus in nutrient solutions with no regard for strain. As it grew they put more and more of it on the streets, first selling it and then giving it away once money lost all meaning to them. Eventually they moved on from injections, gathering their viral supplies in one enormous vat. They still fill syringes with it and use them when they find themselves in an environment they think will make them stronger. But more and more they simply dunk people directly in the vat, letting uncontrolled, purposeless mutation run rampant."

"Why would they do these things?" asked Tali.

"At first it was for money. They peddled the virus like any other drug. Then it was for power, gathering followers and making them stronger. Then it was for ideology. They named themselves Newbreed and took control of our territory. They struck at all those who offended against us and locked us all in. Now? I fear they're mad. The adaptation our bodies create don't prioritize the mind unless they're made to," he tapped his own massive cranium. "They've forced the entire population into their camp. I fear they mean to mutate everyone at once. Then, once the madmen and the beasts have finished tearing each other apart, the winners will pour out into the rest of Omega and turn it into a charnel house. Hundreds of thousands will die and other vorcha across the galaxy will pay the cost as the other races turn upon them in horror. That's why you have to help us."

"Okay," said Shepard.

"Wait," interrupted Ashley, pulling her commander aside.

"Shouldn't you haggle?" she asked. "Make them pinkie swear not to attack the galaxy after we help them or something like that?"

"I'd end up going after Newbreed no matter what," answered Shepard. "They probably know that. I can't rely on bluffing in my negotiations."

"Of course not," muttered Ashley.

"After I demonstrate my ability to bring down a settlement full of vorcha, my negotiating position will be stronger," Shepard explained.

"Didn't think of it that way," Ashley admitted. "Carry on."

Shepard turned back to the vorcha leader.

"What do you want us to do?"

"The Newbreed must be stopped before they complete their ceremony and turn their captives into an army. We will mount a full attack on them to draw out as many of their forces as possible. You must find a way to use that distraction to destroy their FEV supply and free their prisoners. Once these two things are done they won't have the power to cause a local apocalypse anymore. They will still be a force to reckoned with, but it will be one that can be brought to heel given enough time."

"Oh here we go again," muttered Shepard as Aeolus began explaining the details.


End file.

Fallout, Mass Effect, Adventure, Sci-Fi