Chapter Twenty Three: Phin Markets

The farseer looked around the room. It was the Normandy's communication room. She was out of her armour, wearing one of the black and white human outfits. Her own clothes and armour in dire need of cleaning. She stood at one end of the long table. The seats on both sides were filled. Occupied by the agents that the human Shepard had gathered in the last couple of months. They waited, expecting her to begin any moment. She stood perfectly still for a moment in front of the Normandy crew.

Haestrom had uncovered something dark. Something malevolent. They were all in danger. They all needed to be informed.

"From the moment we entered the system I knew something was wrong." she began, the memories taking her psyche back to that time, her voice carried throughout the entire room.

"There was a violent shift in the warp. This is unusual. The warp everywhere else is completely flat, without a ripple. So when we dropped out of FTL, the effect was immediately noticeable."

"What is the warp?" Tali asked. The quarian stood behind one of the seats, she turned to the others, "I haven't been brought up to speed yet."

"A relevant question." Thane replied and brought his head round to the front of the table, "After your impressive display on Illium, I attempted to research this 'warp'... my efforts were inconclusive."

Glaedara's mouth hesitated, before acknowledging that they all had much greater problems and threats, "It is a realm of power, separate from the physical universe, yet tied intrinsically to it. It is… hard to describe to those without the ability to see it, without a means of reference. A colour with no name. An unknown direction in space."

She glanced across at the asari Justicar, sitting silently and calmly on the opposite side. Her back was straight, simply observing the whole exchange.

Glaedara outstretched a hand to gesture to the Justicar. "Just as your biotics reach into dark matter to draw their power. I reach into the warp for power and guidance."

"The bitch lifted this entire ship!" Jack called across to Tali, a dirty smile on her face. She thumped the table and pointed. "Garrus! Show the quarian the vid!"

Glaedara ignored the human and continued, "I spent the journey in-system meditating, all the while feeling something grow stronger in the back of my mind. Something… out of place. Wrong."

She smoothly brought up her omnitool and executed a series of commands. A dozen alerts softly flashed up on the omnitools of everyone present, highlighting to their owners that they had a new data file.

"When we arrived at the planet, the feeling was strong. I was certain that the source of the disturbance lay behind our feet. On Haestrom."

Everyone was looking at the recent file they'd received. It was an outline analysis of the planet.

She placed a hand on the edge of the table in front of her. "I was not mistaken, as we descended to the surface my feeling grew and grew. I was more convinced than ever that something significant was near. Something about this planet, alone out of anything I've so far seen in this galaxy, disrupting the very fabric of the warp."

She leaned back from the table. Her hand withdrew from the top of the table and outstretched to gesture to her audience.

"The rest of the mission you know. We arrived at the abandoned and crumbling quarian colony. We met up with Tai Zorah vas Neema. She is already known to some of you. She was pursuing her own mission, the details of which, she has since shared with me."

The quarian slightly nodded her head as a sign of acknowledgement.

"There was a labyrinth under the colony, tunnels and caverns not found on your maps. It was from here that the disturbance emanated. Like a deafening, silencing shroud. It is painful to those sensitive to the warp. I couldn't travel deeper." She looked round. The three explorers that descended into the ruins were there in the room.

"Liara, Garrus and Tali explored the ruins. They remarked that they, rather, your Citadel had never seen anything like it."

She stopped, one last hesitation. No... she realized, not a hesitation, but a decision. She was lost from her people, and the necron tomb was empty. Many craftworlds don't remember much about the necrons, the riddles lost to ancient myth and legend.

But Ys Arthar remembers. Ys Arthar would not take their duties and their warnings to the grave in vain. Not when the old enemy had returned.

"I know what race this tomb city belongs to. They are called the Necrons."

"Necrons…" Shepard repeated, "EDI, does that name ring any bells?" she asked the omnipresent AI.

The blue light appeared by the side of the room, "No mention of any species with that designation, Shepard," it stated. It promptly flashed away again.

Glaedara gently shook her head, "You wouldn't know of them. These beings are ancient. Their origins and histories mostly lost to time. They may have been among the first life in the universe."

A whistle came from the back of the room.

"Fact is clouded with legend and myth in the millions of years since. We have only a few sources to draw upon from that time. A time before my own people."

"You haven't told us much about your own people. It'd be fascinating to learn." said Liara, without thinking.

"Maybe I will." she replied, realizing to her surprise that she actually half meant those words. "But not now. Now you need to know of the necrons." she said, feeling her ingrained reluctance to share information on the craftworld. A warning about the ancient enemy was one thing. The history of her own people, their triumphs, their marvels!

...their fall…

That was another thing entirely. She stared back into the audience "To understand the necrons you need to know about the war in heaven. The cataclysmic conflict at the beginning of history. These necrons clashed with the greatest civilization the universe has ever known. Their name has been lost to the ages. We know them only, as the old ones. Possibly the only race to precede the necrons."

The room stayed silent to let her continue her story, "This conflict broke both primordial races. The necrons were defeated and driven into hiding. The old ones… the old ones reckless and desperate use of the warp consumed and destroyed them."

"Isn't that the same power you can use?" Miranda asked. She was seated near the front. Her assistance cane resting on the table beside her. She had an open datapad in front of her. Her hands making extensive notes on everything being said.

"Yes, but their capabilities would eclipse mine a thousand fold."

"Do you know how they were destroyed?" Shepard asked, curious.

"The warp was torrid and violent from its reckless use. It lashed out into the material realm, and destroyed them."

"This has no chance of happening to you, has it?" she asked cautiously.

Glaedara shook her head. "No. My whole profession is trained against it occurring. But the old ones… after that war, the galaxy burned. The necrons had retreated to their lairs to hide. For millions upon millions of years they slumbered, biding their time… waiting."

"Even before I came here, in my own time, forty thousand years in the future. My farseers and I had been getting rumours of their return. Entire planets sterilized, billions of m.. humans wiped out in their unstoppable march."

"Forty thousand years in the future? Your time?" Tali buzzed in confusion.

Garrus chuckled and leaned over, "You've a bit of catching up to do." he said quietly.

An exasperated 'keelah…' issued from the quarian.

"Our chances of fighting them?" Shepard asked from up the front.

Glaedara faced the commander.

"None."

There was a silent, awkward shuffling as the room processed this new information.

Her next words came carefully and slowly, "It is not arrogance. It is not hubris. During my brief time within Council Space, I have observed your strength. You would not delay them even slightly."

"We thought that about reapers too, but we killed one on the Citadel." Miranda commented, if only to ease the tension.

"Necrons are not Reapers." Glaedara replied with finality.

"What exactly is down there?" Jacob asked the room, "I've seen the video footage but I can't make out what I'm supposed to be looking at."

"One of their tomb worlds." Glaedara replied.

"Don't like the sound of that…" Zaeed grumbled.

"Their homes and liars since the war in heaven." Many of the audience around her brought up the underground vid feed on their omnitools for a closer look. "There, in great city-planets like these, they slept. Waiting for millions of years. My people have never fully explored one… only a few exploration teams ever return."

"You tell us this now?" Shepard scoffed.

"This one was empty." Glaedara paused. Her eyes lingering on the playing feed of Miranda's omnitool resting on the desk. The cold, dead, black structures flashed across the screen. A chill went up her spine.

"This... disturbs me. Their tomb worlds are their territory. Their liars and their factories. They defend them vehemently, they would never allow us to traverse so far into one unguarded."

"There doesn't seem to be any sign of damage," Tali volunteered, "just degradation from time."

"What about our data?" she asked, pausing the feed on her omnitool. After learning of the incredible discovery and danger poised to them by this new discovery, Tali had volunteered what data she had collected for the migrant fleet. Shepard's team had accepted it with gratitude.

Shepard responded, "EDI, have you analyzed the data from Tali?"

A hologram appeared in the middle of the table. It showed two spheres. One representing the sun, the other, Haestrom. A wireframe cone appeared to connect the two bodies, arrows moving along its length from the sun to the planet.

"There is a stream of extremely high energy exotic particles connecting the two bodies. These streams appear to flow towards Haestrom. These energy lines are most likely responsible for Haestrom's high levels of radiation. There is a colossal amount of high ionization in the upper atmosphere."

"The sun," Liara started. "The sun's energy!"

"You are correct, Ms T'soni. The planet, or some mechanism within, appears to be drawing power from the sun. Apart from that, I am unable to offer any additional comment."

"It is said in the myths that they drain the life from stars to power their monstrous gods. This fits with what is known about them." Glaedara said.

Shepard sat back in her chair and exhaled. A hand went up to her forehead, "Another threat to deal with. A threat we can't resolve right now."

"Their motives are unknowable, even to us. They will sometimes bypass planets teeming with life, other times descend with final doom to a specific world. I don't know what drives them, and in our state, we cannot make any meaningful plans against them." Glaedara summarized.

Shepard nodded, resigning to the grim fact.

"This is something we have to keep a look out for. If anyone finds anything related to anything seen on Haestrom, report it immediately, anything could help us here."

Acknowledgements bounced back to her and the room slowly emptied. The debriefing had finished. As the room emptied, a massive figure moved against the current and entered. Okeer. He hadn't been present for the meeting.

The massive krogan stopped just in the threshold of the briefing room.

"Shepard." He growled through a thin, vengeful smile, "We need to talk."

"What do you have for me?" She asked the krogan scientist. The pair were in the lab. Mordin was absent. The deep hum of the Normandy's engine was added to the faintly audible whines and whirs of the machines present. The harsh, pale glare of Haestrom's sun beamed through the window, casting everything in a lighter, less saturated hue.

The krogan turned, the great smile never leaving his face. Half his face exposed to the hard light from the window. "The location of one of the collector's bases…"

A collector base! This was big. Their first lead to bringing the fight to the collectors!

"Where?" she demanded.

The smile widened. Okeer sensed her enthusiasm. He strode over to his main work terminal, she felt the floor vibrate under his steps. She drew up to the screen beside him.

"Closest relay is Sigurd's Cradle." the krogan displayed on the screen. "The base itself is far from any star system. In the cold, black emptiness between star systems."

She scanned through the data on the screen, "Just sitting out there in dark space?" she asked. "Nothing around it?"

"The perfect place to hide is the place where no one's looking." the Krogan droned.

"Very poetic" Shepard replied flatly, "Can we reach it? Is it too far from the relay?"

"No." was the definitive reply as he swiped across and a display of navigational data appeared. It took a second to adjust herself but she quickly spotted a course projecting out from the Sigurd's Cradle relay.

They could reach the location… just. It was on the edge of what the Normandy's fuel reserves would carry them.

"That's a big detour from normal shipping lanes…" Shepard said, almost to herself. "No Comm buoys out there either. We'd be cut off from the galaxy. Any distress call would take thirty years to get to the nearest buoy."

"Concerns?..." the word dripped out of his mouth, full of venom.

"Practicalities." she replied.

"Mmmm" the big krogan replied.

She swung around, "We are going. Make no mistake. I want to make sure we have enough food and supplies to make the trip."

The smile, momentarily absent, returned. "Good. I shall inform my creation. He has been itching to fight these things again."

"What else can you give me?" She flicked through the other pages of data on the collector location, "Resistance?"

Okeer shrugged, a sizable motion, "Unknown. You are lucky I can narrow down the location this much. I have no idea of their shipping schedules if that's what you're after. I am sure we will learn more once we get up close."

She nodded, "How's the armour?"

"Excellent. Several secondary pieces tailored to your companions' physical requirements have been manufactured. The tested durability is…. exquisite..."

"Will it work?" she asked, skeptical.

The large angry eyes rounded on her, "Do krogan fight?"

She carried on past the rhetorical statement. "How soon can we get there?"

"Four days. Less than that if one of the systems we pass has something big we can discharge the drive into."

"Sounds good. Send the coordinates to Joker. I'll speak to him soon."

"Excellent..." the big krogan grinned.

The pair of them sat in the observation bay of the Normandy. The stars drifted by as the ship sailed through the systems towards the system's relay. They did not speak to each other. The pair of them closed in silent meditation.

Both sat, cross legged, in the metal room. The seats around them were empty. There was no sound except the humm of the ship.

After some time had passed, Glaedara finally spoke, a clear voice out of the silence.

"How old are you?" she asked the asari.

Even through closed eyes, Samara smiled. She knew that it was a question that her companion had been avoiding.

"I am almost 1000 years old." she replied in a slow and gentle tone. There was no need for hurry, "And I am beginning to show it. And I suspect you are something similar." she added, curious at her own hunch.

A pause from the room. Samara hadn't opened her eyes. She felt the calmness around her.

"Just over 1000." came the harmonic reply. An unrushed voice like hers.

Samara's suspicions confirmed. She smiled with silent pride at her own instincts. "I thought so. You do not carry yourself like the others. Even your companion. You are detached. Silent. Some would call disinterested. "

"They would be, at least, partially correct."

That response from her companion came quicker, Samara thought. She must be willing to talk.

"And I would agree with you. Everyone rushes. Some out of ambition, and others have no time, so they seek to compensate with activity."

Silence for a moment once again.

"Why are you, asari, so much longer lived than everyone else. Everyone else lives for a century before dying. What makes the asari different?"

There was a curiosity there. Samara recognized. Her controlled breathed remained steady The subtleties brought themselves out in the absence of distraction.

"Not even we know the answer to that. Some say a quirk of biology, others point to our inherent biotic abilities. But no one knows for certain."

She continued, "I must remark however, it is pleasing to talk with someone who sees the long game."

"You are still younger than me."

Samara smirked, "Quite. But the gulf between us is much smaller than the others on this ship… well. Besides your companion."

"Eleiyra is half our ages, she is young to us."

"For someone approaching five hundred, she is very excitable. It may not be obvious to the others, but I know those who want to go off in search of adventure. "

"Like yourself?" the eldar asked and Samara realised that her own self was being examined and explored like what she was doing to her companion.

She didn't mind. In truth she welcomed coming to share a little of herself with the other she shared the observation bay with on a daily basis. Days passing in silence with maybe one or two sentences exchanged over the day, then ending with one or the other getting up to leave.

"Yes. I was once excitable. Young and impatient. Age has mellowed these desires."

"As it does to everything." Glaedara replied. Samara thought she detected a hint of poignancy in those words.

"Well said." she offered, "As a Justicar, I walk a narrow path… some would call it harsh and rigid, but I have found that the narrow path has its own momentum. The longer you follow it. The easier it is to remain on course, and the harder it is to divert from it."

"Eleiyra hasn't found her path yet." the eldar replied. The tone was museful, as if she was speaking to herself.

"That much, is obvious." Samara felt the humour come through even in her own words. Her eyes were still closed. "But you on the other hand. I see the determination. The strive for control and concentration. We are more alike than you realize."

A hesitation from the room beyond. "I dispute that." came the eventual response, "You operate in black and white, according to the morals of your own code. I traverse a sea of endless grey, constantly doubtful of my own actions. A hair's breadth between salvation and ruin with every decision."

In the silence around them, the words towards the end of her reply quickened and climbed higher in pitch.

The two sit in silence for a moment longer.

"You are uncomfortable here with us." It wasn't a question.

A long silence from the other side of the room.

"Yes."

"I cannot imagine the pain of losing your entire people. To be deposited back in a time where no-one knows of your people's existence." the Justicar's words were slow and deliberate.

Her companion picked up where she left off.

"It is worse than that. My power. My entire path through life, is dependent on the warp. I saw into the future paths of the craftworld and guided my people to safety through the storm. My people are gone. My means of living is gone. My power to advise is gone. I have nothing."

"You are not only the sum of your greatest power. You are also the supports that hold that power up. The determination. The skill. The intellect. It is a bitter consolation prize, but the path must continue."

There was an absence of noise from the other side. Samara was careful not to push further.

"Yes." a small noise resonated from the room. "The path must continue."

His breathing was loud inside his helmet. The cold vacuum surrounded him. Only the thin visor of his helmet separated him from certain death.

He put another foot forward. He only heard a faint metal noise travel up his body. The vacuum around him prevented anything else. Above him was just empty abyss. The stars shone far off. The metal hull of the station was below him. The mag locks of his boots were the only thing from him drifting off into the black.

The mass on his back was cumbersome. It was uneven, and kept trying to float off into space. It took his continuous attention to not let it drift off or slam into the back of his head.

A small light bleeped on his wrist. A message.

He opened his comm.

"Team 4?" came the slick voice, "Please advise on your location."

He rearranged his back weight. "This is Team 4." Rurric replied, "Making my way to target now." The large batarian shifted again with his uncooperative cargo.

"Acknowledged, Team 4. Any patrols?" Rurric could hear Hectrom's slimy voice even from here. He was back on his ship, sitting in comfort while others like him were out doing the real work.

"Nothing on scan. I can't think why they'd bother setting up surveillance out here… "

"I would." came the reply from the data obsessed Batarian captain.

"Yea. You would, wouldn't you?" Rurric grumbled into the mic.

"Say again, Team 4. The last line broke up..." the snarky little tone filtered through to Rurric's ears.

"Give me a reason, Hectrom... " Rurric growled back. "Any reason…"

The voice returned, sounding bothered about its veiled rebuffal, "Acknowledged. All teams, Team 4 is on way to objective. Standby for further updates."

The infirmary was empty, that was always a good sign. She crossed the room towards the far door. The one leading to the Normandy's AI core.

Shepard opened it. The locking hologram dissipated as the doors slid open.

She found Liara inside. She had set up herself in the AI core after her flight from Illium. There was a large expanse of display terminals propped up against one of the walls. They displayed data and information that Shepard could only guess at. The rest of the room quietly hummed with the activity of the Normandy's servers.

Liara looked up from her screens. The white light from the infirmary shining in on her face. She smiled.

"Shepard. It's good to see you."

The commander stepped in, closing the door behind them. "A nice place you've set up for yourself down here." she gestured to the monitors. Their graphs and charts scrolled by.

"I hoped it won't cause any trouble." Liara replied, flustered, "I wanted to take up as little space as.."

"Relax." Shepard motioned, "You're more than welcome to any areas of the ship. Are the crew giving you any trouble? They may be Cerberus, but from what I've seen of them, they're mostly good people."

"They seem polite enough." Liara replied with a careful tone, "Courteous." There was a pause, "But I don't trust them, not yet at least. Though that may just be the paranoid information broker talking."

"I was told once that you're only paranoid if no-one's out to get you." she leaned against a wall. "From what you told me of your office raid on Illium, I'd say somebody's got it out for you."

The asari smiled back at her, "I was a very successful information broker, Shepard." a distinct note of pride in the sentence. "My successes came with the catch of making enemies."

"The Shadow Broker." she concluded. Liara nodded in confirmation, "you're certain that he was behind the raid on your offices?"

That roused a defiant voice, "Almost certainly. It had his fingerprints all over it. The comm system. The hacking, Nyxeris..." she drifted away at the mention of her missing assistant. She recovered. "I'm not the first this has happened to, others have went quiet... or missing. It's always been the Shadow Broker behind it."

There was something there, behind her mask, Shepard thought. "Liara. What's this about? You were quiet about it before on Illium. But that was before. Even this with the Shadow Broker, there's something else, Liara. I want to know. I want to help and I don't like being kept in the dark."

There was a long, drawn out silence. Shepard could see a battle playing out over her blue features. Her lips thinned as an unseen debate was happening within her.

She exhaled. A frustrated exasperation. "Ok… ok. Yes. You're right." Shepard let her collect her thoughts.

The asari began, "Not long after you died, we crossed paths, the Shadow Broker and I. I had learned that the Shadow Broker recovered your body and was going to sell you to the collectors."

Shepard nodded along. "Yes, I remember you mentioning this a few days ago."

Liara's hands leaned against the desk she had set up in front of her. "I couldn't allow that." her head was shaking from side to side. "I just couldn't. I got lucky. I found out where you were being stored, your body that is. As soon as I discovered that, I rushed to get you out." her hand slammed on the edge of the desk.

"Risking your own life to save my corpse? I'm flattered but I'm not sure that was the right call for your safety, Liara."

"I thought of nothing else in the weeks leading up to it. But I just couldn't bare see your body sold off to the collectors. I'd been contacted by Cerberus prior. They said they could resurrect you. I was unbelievably skeptical as you can imagine but…"

She threw up her arms. The dim lights and servers of the room continued to hum.

"...if there was even a chance?..." she asked. "I knew about Cerberus, the resources they had. The minds they had… and the things they had done.. "

She looked up to Shepard, almost pleading her case, "No one else was going to even consider that amount of investment. Once I realized that they were serious, I decided I needed to be serious as well."

The commander brought up her hand, a calming gesture. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand, still, thanks again for making that decision by the way." she smirked.

Liara smiled, "You're welcome." the smile disappeared, "But that was the start of a long, jagged road. I wasn't alone in getting you out. I had help. A friend. Feron. He helped me through the dark months after your death. He helped me retrieve your body… he didn't make it out."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Shepard consoled.

Liara shrugged, her head held low. "I never found out what happened to him, for two years I didn't know."

Her head turned, "Until recently. A short while ago I got lucky. I got my hands on a data cache from the Shadow broker's agents." her voice began to speed up. "It was an inventory for a facility. An inventory of names. My guess is a prisoner manifest. It has thousands of names on it, Shepard. I couldn't believe it when I first saw it. All these people that the Shadow Broker had ordered rounded up and captured. All these people never to be been seen again. The manifest listed names from only a few weeks ago. Feron's name was on that list."

"So you're thinking he could still be alive? After almost two years?"

She nodded, "Yes. If there's the chance he's alive, I need to go and get him out. He's responsible for both our lives."

"Is this a prison? Do you know where it is?"

The asari deflated, "I don't know. All I could gather was a cargo manifest."

She turned back to the terminal and inputted some commands. Within a few moments, a map of the galaxy had appeared on the displays in front of them. The map zoomed in towards a section of the galaxy that lay within asari space.

"From the cargo manifest, I've identified that its ship makes a stop at this planet." she gestured to it on the screen. "An asari world called Apenses. A relatively small asari colony within deep Citadel Space."

"It makes a stop here before moving on towards the facility. I am certain of it." she insisted. "If I can get close enough to this ship and tag it with a tracker. We'll have Feron's location and we can start working on a plan to get him out."

Shepard had leaned in close to view the screen, "Not without risk." she commented, "If the Shadow Broker even suspects what you're trying to do, there's a good chance that he'll move your friend."

She saw the asari's head nodding in silent agreement. "I can't just do nothing. I have to try. The man has saved both of us. He sacrificed himself to save me. I need to get him out."

She paused, "And we're running out of time. I have to leave the Normandy for this."

Shepard's confusion just starting to appear on her face when Liara continued.

"No, Shepard. I have to." she replied to the commander's unspoken question, "This cargo ship passes Apenses in two days. The Normandy is about to leave for the deep Terminus, to be gone for a over a week. This is something that can't wait."

Shepard understood. Liara needed to make the transfer, to do that with the Normandy would mean delaying the mission to the deep space Collector Base for over two days. That was something they couldn't allow. They needed to hit them now before they moved on any more colonies.

She could see the thought on Liara's face too. A face that had grown harder since Shepard had seen it last. With eyes that held more menace than she remembered.

"This is something I can handle, Shepard." Liara replied "You've already been more help than i could ask for."

"Ok." Shepard replied, in agreement with her. "One alteration in your plan. Take Eleiyra and Kasumi with you. They're the top stealth specialists on the ship. You couldn't ask for better support."

Liara was about to protest but now it was Shepard turn to interrupt her. "I don't doubt your ability. I'm thinking towards the future. The Shadow Broker is responsible for a great many tragedies in the galaxy, the selling of my own body included. It's in my interest to see him taken down a peg as well."

"Plus," she added, "the information you could provide in the days ahead could be critical. You're just too valuable, Liara."

Liara considered it. There was a cold calculation going on behind her blue eyes. "Alright, yes. Eleiyra and Kasumi… from what I've read their skills are remarkable."

Shepard smiled, "Good. Glad you agree. Now, back to the plan."

They fell into a detailed discussion about where was best for parting ways. Shepard suggested Apenses itself, but Liara quickly rebuffed that. The Shadow Broker no doubt knew of the Normandy and if the ship appeared at Apenses, he'd be tipped off. She suggested the Citadel instead, close enough for her to make her own way to Apenses in time and won't arouse suspicions. She could leave the Normandy with Eleiyra and Kasumi in the chaos of the landing docks while it refuels and resupplies for the trip into dark space.

They agreed on the plan.

"That sounds good." Shepard concluded after some time. "I'll give the word to head for the Citadel."

"I'll be ready to leave within the hour." Liara replied as the commander turned to leave, "And Shepard… thank you."

There was life and activity all around him. He walked down the middle of the wide, elegant concourse. He looked up. An expansive, transparent ceiling displayed empty space beyond. A thousand lights shone against the black. A couple of much brighter lights moved past the rest. Ships and traders looking to dock with the station.

The entire area was saturated in gentle shades of blue. Kahm wondered what was it with asari and the colour. Blue skin, blue blood, blue walls… surely they must get sick of looking at it, right?"

There were massive curved supports holding up the magnificent view. Behind these were the alcoves and spaces where the stores and shops were. The station facilitated the transfer of large quantities of supplies and materials from one ship to the other. Much of that was automated and happened out in the extensive dockyards of the station. Far removed from the more civilized, refined areas.

He looked around. But this was where the real money was made. Financial transactions and services. Billions of credits passed through these walls as this station housed the central market transfer for the region. All the comm buoys to asari held holdings in the Terminus passed through this station.

The wealth hidden beneath the surface of these blue walls was unimaginable…

The din of the station echoed around them. Voices, people, music, announcements. The wide open shopping corridors and large expansive outlets were a far cry from the more rundown stations like Omega. Everything was crisp, clean and tidy. If it weren't for the large windows that looked out into space you could fool yourself to thinking that you were on an asari world.

Kahm despised it.

He despised the civilized look about it. The way they hid their thievery behind glass facades and decoration. He and several of his crew strode along one of the main promenades. They were unarmoured, something that Kahm was not used to. He didn't feel comfortable unless he had a sizable amount of metal in between him and the outside world.

Their weapons had been left behind as well... another concession he had his reservations with.

He walked with a small group of crew from his ship. Six of them. They continued down the path, stopping at the occasional outlet to purchase some minor item for the ship to avoid suspicion. Some small amount of coolant. An interface for the bridge team. All the while, secretly making notes of the security they passed, how they were armed and where they were...

An hour had passed on the Normandy. In that time the small ship had jumped the tens of thousands of light years back to the Serpent Nebula. The vessel was on course for docking with the Citadel, less than another hour away.

"This can't be legal, Kasumi…" Shepard brought a hand up to her face and scratched at one of the scars on her face. Chakwas said she shouldn't but she couldn't help it. The criss-crossing lines of faint orange light were taking their sweet time to fade away.

"What? Oh it's nothing. People steal memories all the time…" the thief sitting across from her retaliated. The words were shot out in machine gun like rapidity. She sat cross legged opposite the commander in her quarters on the upper deck. The woman was rocking back and forth like she couldn't keep still.

"I thought this technology was rare. Like your partner's greybox was a one of a kind deal?"

The normally chirpy and cheerful girl's smile stalled beneath her hood for a moment. "They are. Mem-tech is commonplace, but it's finding the right memories are what the greyboxes are for. Anyone can just grab a scan and see what pops up. You don't have control over what comes up, could be anything…" the inquisitiveness returned, "...and I was curious."

The thief slid the small, circular forehead implant over the low table to Shepard. It was small, about the size of a coin.

She looked directly at the commander. A sudden serious about her. "And I think you should see what I found."

Shepard leaned forward. She scooped up the tiny metal implant.

"Is it safe?"

She waved her hand. "Completely. It's just a reader, like the consumer vr players back home."

Shepard turned it over in her fingers, "They left us about a month ago, why are you giving it to me now?"

She shrugged, "I only just cracked it. Memory data is incredibly hard to decypher. That's part of the job of the greybox. Our friend didn't have one, so we had to let the decoding algorithms do their work."

The commander's vision went back to the small device in her hand, to think that she held in her hands the very thoughts of someone who could be thousands of light years away.

"I'll leave you. I needed some thinking time for myself after I played it.." her smile disappeared, but returned as quickly as it left. "I'll prep for the job ahead. Sounds like fun! Been talking to Eleiyra, she seems excited."

"Excited?"

"Well… as excited as either of them gets… I'll be ready at the airlock when we dock. See ya."

With that the thief vanished into thin air. The cushions on the sofa across from the commander inflated with the release of an invisible weight. A couple of seconds later, the door to her quarters slid opened and shut again. Kasumi had left.

That left the commander with the mem-tech implant.

"EDI? Can you run a quick scan on this implant, to check nothing malicious is stored on it."

"Scanning… no malicious code detected Shepard. The device is safe."

Shepard didn't really expect there to be, but she was dealing with a renowned thief… some precautions had to be taken. Looking at it in her fingers, she wondered just what could have brought up such an odd reaction in the normally carefree woman.

Only one way to find out... she brought it up to the side of her forehead and tapped the activation. She felt the familiar drop of her senses falling away as the vr reader unloaded its contents to her mind.

The world fell out beneath her.

She was transported to somewhere else completely. Her mind turned as it made the journey across vast distances, was turned inside out and reconstituted. Foreign, latent ideas and images flooded into her mind as subconscious markers for something else. She couldn't bring any of them to the forefront of her mind at this point.

She was outside. Dark clouds filled the sky above. It was raining. The downpour thundered down around her. Thousands of splashes scattered around her as the deluge continued.

The water pooled on the marble path around her boots. She looked up into the distance. The wide, elegant grounds of the governor's palace stretched off into the distance. Forests of untouched private hunting grounds topped the mountains on the horizon.

She reached down and tightened the leather glove around her left hand. She was lost for a moment, a stranger's hand, a large one, revealed itself to her as she looked down. The glove was black, with silver decorative stitching. On the back of the hand was an embroidered skull. Wet streams of water ran down it.

Other things too, her sleeves were of deep, dark green and with silver trimming around the cuff links. It was needlessly decorated compared to the clothing Shepard was used to. Her shoulders felt heavy. It was then she noticed the heavy pauldrons on either side of her shoulders. She couldn't see them, but she could feel their weight and feel the movements as she shifted in the cold, wet rain.

There was a large mass beside her. A huge, winged vehicle of bolted metal. Its large turbines producing a low whining on the landing pad where she stood. It idled, awaiting its passengers. They'd be along soon, she remembered.

She turned and glimpsed the city. It sprawled off into the distance, the foreground dominated by the vast bulk of the governor's palace. Spires reached high into the sky. A golden haze of artificial lighting seeped up from in between the upright structures. The scene disappeared in the distance to a blurry haze through grey, howling rainstorm. It looked like a city from history, a dark, unified statement of pointed gothic arches and heavy, buttressed walls.

Her gaze settled on the group of people approaching. There was maybe half a dozen, under guard. They had been escorted up to the landing pad from the dungeons of the palace. They were thrown down in front of her in on the wet ground. They were drenched. Their clothing rotting off them. Bruises everywhere. Ugly scars. They looked like they'd been beaten with an inch of their lives. Heavy iron chains hung around their necks. All bearing a pressed icon of the two headed eagle.

And on their foreheads, was the reddened, scarred branding of an I. An I she had seen before.

"The last remnants are being purged now, my lord." Hayt said. He was looking directly at her. He stood behind the figures on the ground. He was in his large bulky carapace armour, weapon ready. "The 201st are cutting through them. The filth have lost all morale since their leaders were taken out. General Adler thinks the cleanup should take about two weeks maximum."

"We will be well away from here by then I should think." Shepard heard herself say. Except it wasn't her. It was someone else. A deeper voice. A man's voice.

Eisenmus' voice.

Shepard's gaze turned back to the wretches below her. She felt frustration build up in her, frustration over almost a year of investigation, surveillance and conflict. The blood price of over a million dead and a planet destroyed of infrastructure.

"What was the point?..." she muttered to these people. They said nothing. She turned and addressed them again,

"What was the point?!" she felt anger rise in her voice. Syllable of long held frustration blared on these heretics.

She clenched her fist. Reigning her anger in.

"To be rid of you!" yelled out a voice from the end of the line. She looked up. And walked slowly through the tumbling rain over to the end. The crack of thunder sounded from somewhere far off. The flooded, marble path was speckled with pooling patches of blood from these wretches.

He looked up at her. A thin, wiry man with splotches of hair. He looked up at her through defiant, bloodshot eyes.

"For a free Haedris. A Haedris where we can live, not work and toil. A Haedris that doesn't send all its minerals and wealth to the Imperium that rapes our land." he spat on the ground. "So that we could finally have some dignity in ourselves and make a Haedris worth living in!"

She looked at him in silence. Her anger boiling up again. Nothing but the rain sounded around them.

"You honestly think that's possible? You think out of the million worlds of the Imperium, better people than you haven't tried this?! The only... ONLY reason that you managed as much as you did was an ork Waagh in the next sector."

She was angry now, she felt it rise up. She brought up a single finger within an inch of his face. "One regiment. ONE! Was assigned to you. Stripped from a defence force that fights enemies threatening entire sectors. You have not only caused the deaths of your people here. But also of the people in the next sector. People will die because you REBELLED!"

The man stood silent and defiant.

"I am here because of a chaos cult embedded in your pathetic leadership. Do you know about chaos? No? You know about daemons yes? The stories of sailors? Wild imaginations?"

She was almost spitting, "Daemons are real. And they seek to destroy all we know. My participation in dealing with your little uprising was a deal I reached with the governor for his cooperation. Your uprising wasn't important enough for me to look into!"

She threw up her arms into the rain. "And now you have turned a beautiful world into a battleground for what, self governance? Independence? These things daemons don't recognize. These things help the enemies of humanity. These things weaken the Imperium and weaken the entirety of the human fucking race!"

Shepard breathed out. She hadn't burst out like that in decades… It was the end of a long day, the end of a long assignment, and she still had to report to the governor. He would be jubilant, even thankful, but the man could talk and was a stickler for pomp. She wished she could just retire to her quarters as soon as possible.

"You psykers are now property of the Inquisition." she stated flatly. "You will be sent on the blackships to Holy Terra. Your lives will benefit the Imperium." she motioned for the handlers to take them away, Hayt among them. He simply nodded and began to haul them onto the transport waiting behind her.

Shepard knew their fate, they would sent into the Astronomicon or fed to the Golden Throne. Either one meant death. It would be easier to kill them and be done with it. But she would have something meaningful come of this. They will fuel the throne, and with their essence, they may undo at least a tiny bit of the damage they did to this world.

Something shifted. The world around her melted away. The rain and shadows merged and flickered, there was an out flux of information as she felt her own mind returning. The foreign emotions and frustrations being sucked from her psyche.

She was suddenly jolted back to the present. The thundering sound of rain was gone, only the silence of her quarters remained. She sat in her seat in her captain's quarters. She yanked the device from her head and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees while her mind started to process what she'd just seen.

Hectrom leaned forward. His chair creaked beneath his movement. It was parked at the station dockyards, undergoing a refueling and coolant change. He had arrived a few days ago, ahead of the main body of mercs to get established.

He redirected his attention to another team and inputted the correct channel codes.

"Team 2. Status?" he asked his com beside him.

"Docking now." came the reply, "Only just got in. Handshake protocols accepted. Bastards think we're turians…"

Hectrom brought a hand up to his face, not on this channel you morons… he thought to himself. He had to hope no one was listening in.

"Team 2" he responded, emphasizing their name. "Are you ready?"

"Yea, yea we'll be here when you need us."

Hectrom groaned, "Good. remain on standby.."

It was so difficult to get decent help these days…

He switched over. The next team. A small Blue Suns group, tasked with securing the portside fuel stores.

"Team 6. Are you in position." he called into the microphone in front of him.

"Affirmative, Team 1. Standing by." the terse reply came back. Quick and experienced.

See, Blue Suns! Hectrom thought. He liked the Blue Suns… they were professional.

Another channel switch

"Team 5. What's your status?"

"Team 5 here."Hectrom recognized the Kahm's familiar voice over the comm. "Proceeding as planned. Route completion in under five minutes."

"Acknowledged team five. Continue as planned, and await signal at the checkpoint."

"Got you team 1. We're on our way."

Kahm deactivated the comm to Hectrom and turned to his assembled crewmen.

"Charge planted." this crewman informed him. It was a small device. Only ten or so centimetres in length, with a covering that made it look like a wall mounted electrical interface. His crewman had attached it to the wall just above the floor on a main station thoroughfare.

Kahm looked to his crew nearby. "Good. Let's go."

His party continued on. Kahm and a couple of his crew moved behind some look outs he placed up ahead to warn them of security officers. A sign from them and they'd either turn or find another way to go.

So far so good. His crew up ahead seeing nothing. The hundreds of station visitors didn't pay them any heed. Why would they? Just look at what they were dressed in. Deep space void suits, well worn. Originally white but now mottled with scratches and stains from a hundred different lubricants. Void helmets were attached to their heavy utility belts. Him and his crew looked like they'd just come off a freight hauler.

"Patrol." he heard in his ear, and he saw his crewman far in front of them reach up and scratch his head. So they were coming from that direction.

He and two fellows wheeled left, down a similar corridor. He assigned the third member of his group up ahead to take over signalling. They'd meet up with the other crewman later.

Kahm consulted his charge expert.

"Whereabouts for the next one?"

"Just up ahead." the batarian replied. They continued on through the elegant shopping centres and exchanges.

"Here." his crewman quietly informed him. They stopped. He quickly and quietly retrieved another small charge from his back-slung storage bag and configured with the controls on its surface.

This area was more exposed than the last. Dozens of shoppers and visitors walked past. They caught a few second glances from asari, these glances were starting to add up. Kahm was getting nervous.

"Hurry it up." he urged his crewman. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded.

"Hey, can't rush these things you know?" The batarian didn't take his eyes off his work. He brought up his omnitool to sync it with the charge.

They stood there for a few more moments, Kahm leaning up against the slightly curving wall while his crewman struggled with the piece of tech.

"Ok," he said finally, "Good to go."

They waited a moment before no-one was looking and deftly attached it to the wall behind them. They moved on.

"That all of them?" Kahm asked. To the other side of the commercial promenade he spied his other crewman, discreetly making his way up ahead of them through the crowds.

The batarian beside Kahm nodded, "Yea. That's them all. Let's make for the plaza."

The only feedback Rurric got that the device was installed was the heavy vibration when it clamped to the hull. The small lights on the side lit up. He activated it from his omnitool. The small screen on its side turned from red to green.

He stood up, satisfied.

Something flashed in his vision. He turned. A sleek dart zoomed silently out from the station. A couple more followed it. Security fighters. Their bright flaring engines disappeared off into the deep black above him.

"Team 1. This is Team 4. Several fighters just launched. Confirm?" he called back to Hectrom.

"I see it Team 4. This is expected. Continue with mission."

"Continue with mission, my ass…" Rurric muttered to himself as he did a final check on the heavy device he clamped to the hull.

Satisfied for the last time, he turned and began to make the hurried journey back to his ship.

Hectrom saw the fighter squadron launch on his scanner. A holographic display showed the station near the centre with four orange triangles darting away from it. He looked to the edge of the display. New markers were pinging up on the edge of his sensors. The new batarian arrivals. The first wave of their raiding fleet. They should be able to handle the fighters with no problem. The station wasn't expecting all out hostility.

"All teams report in. Confirm stand by." he sent out to everyone.

All teams reported in. He went down the list and checked each team off. He had to admit, after reading the plans from the Shadow Broker, he was suitably impressed with the… boldness of it. It had the potential to be a significant profit maker and story spinner for them all.

All the teams had finished reporting in. His role of coordinator was almost at an end. Soon, there would be near chaos.

He changed comm channels to another,

"Group 2" he relayed to the incoming fleet. "This is Group 1. All things are set. Mission is a go."

"Acknowledged Group 1. Here to bring the skies down." came the enthusiastic reply from the captain in charge of the batarian flotilla.

Hectrom watched the next few minutes play out on the screen in front of him. This was the part of the plan he had no control over, his leg anxiously vibrated up and down on the floor beneath his chair.

The station went into meltdown as the batarian fleets fired on the station's security fighters. In response, the station deployed all their fighter wings.

Or that's what they were going to do. Before their fighter hangar exploded in a cloud of flame.

Blue Suns… repeated Hectrom. You always know what you're getting with the Blue Suns…

This explosion sent alarms sounding through the entire station. Finished with the four fighters sent to oppose them, the main batarian raiding fleet rushed in towards the station. There was nothing to oppose them now.

"All right.." Hectrom said to himself, "Guess it's time to call security…"

He activated a macro on his omnitool that sent out the fake call to the station security. He waited. His hand hovering over another button. He waited. He kept waiting. The display showed the batarian fleet moving closer and closer to the station. It was almost there, within visual distance.

He hoped Rurric had made it to a safe distance. I would miss the dour oaf if he hadn't.

He pushed the button.

Kahm felt it. The vibration shot up through his legs. Hs crew had felt it too. Moments later the shockwave hit them. A violent burst of air tore through the open area. It shattered the thin windows of the stores. People screamed as it subsided.

He nodded to his charge expert to activate a button on his omnitool. He complied. All around the station their placed charges activated, spewing out vast quantities of smoke.

The smoke was relatively harmless, but it was heavy. It clung to the ground and disrupted anyone trying to see. Less than a minute after, visibility around their part of the station had been reduced to zero.

Kahm and his companions retrieved the freighter helmets from their belts and attached them. Custom jobs, with air filters and visibility enhancers. With them on, they were the only ones that could see in the smoke.

They made their way quietly down through the levels. All around them, lost and floundering asari, turians and salarians tried to navigate the smog. They grasped out at nothing in front of them as they stumbled blindly around in the smoke. Kahm and his team simply moved quickly past them to the lower levels.

They encountered no security. All the security had been drawn back to their barracks with a fake order from station command. Right before they had all been blown into space by a massive outer hull breach charge…

They turned a corner and encountered a lone security office. An asari in heavy station armour. It was clear she couldn't see.

"Take her out." Kahm quietly commanded. His charge expert silently crept up to her and grabbed the rifle from her. She wheeled around.

"Hey..." she called out to the smoke around her before the crewman shot her through the chest. The gunfire solicited more screams from the surrounding civilians. Kahm had no time for them yet. His crew was moving again.

They finally made it down to the lower levels, the financial sector. The smoke thinning out down here. Maybe some techs brought the air filtration systems back online.

He looked round. He saw other batarians converging on the place. Small teams like his, no more than three or four people each. Good. Things seemed to be going according to plan.

Another group emerged out of the smoke. They were heavily armoured in void-suits. They carried heavy, rectangular packs across their backs. From the looks of things these guys had entered through the new massive entrance in the side of the security garrison. The frost of space was still on them.

"Come get!" one yelled as he slammed the crate on the ground and opened it. It was packed with stun rifles and charge packs. The others did the same and they handed them out to the awaiting gathering of raiders.

Kahm stepped forward and retrieved one for himself. He slammed a charge pack home and checked the weapon. Everything was good.

He looked back to his crew, who had just got their rifles. He already heard the distinctive crack of stun weapons off in the distance. He smiled.

"Let's go hunting!" he grinned.