The funds from the search and rescue mission on Parnack had barely cleared by the time the Normandy docked at the fuelling depot, and Shepard could almost feel the credits draining through her fingers as she watched the fuel gage rising slowly on Joker's navigation monitor. Letting out a short, anxious sigh, she leaned her elbows against the pilot's headrest, causing Joker to look up and back at her, understanding, before returning his attention to the display once more. "Look on the bright side," he pointed out, attempting buoyancy as the needle crawled up past the halfway mark. "At least we won't have to fill up again for a little while after this."

"Provided we don't have to do any long-distance intersystemary travel," Shepard added, deadpan, causing Joker's mouth to twist to one side in response. He knew as well as she did that the price of fuel had increased exponentially since the end of the War, and that no matter how full they got their tank at each stop, it never seemed to stay that way for long. Shepard had suspected for a while that the fuel companies were diluting their product to keep supply in line with demand, but she had never seen fit to look too closely into the matter. It was simply too much trouble to seek out one small source of dishonest business practice when so many, much larger examples existed almost everywhere she looked.

"Commander?" Traynor's young voice suddenly came through over the intercom, causing both Shepard and Joker to look up at the sound. EDI did not react, likely already aware that the call was about to happen, instead calmly continuing to type commands into her co-pilot computer. "Commander, there's an incoming communication request on the war-room holocomm," Traynor informed her, and Shepard could not help but frown a bit at the twinge of worry she could tell the yeoman was attempting to hide in her tone. "Alliance channels. It seems important. I patched the request through, but… I wouldn't dally. Whoever it is seems to be short on time."

"Alliance?" Shepard repeated, confused, looking down at Joker again as the intercom cut out once more. "The Alliance hasn't contacted me in… years. Not through official channels. What could they possibly want from me?"

Joker paused, considering, before finally responding with a wordless shrug, clearly just as confused about the matter as she was. Letting out a soft sigh, Shepard patted the back of the pilot's chair, half-reassuringly, before starting to turn away from the cockpit to head towards the former war-room instead. Back in her military days, she could always guess that if a call was urgent, that usually meant one of two things: either she had caused a problem and now had to fix it, or someone else had caused the problem and she was now, somehow, the only one qualified to go deal with it. These days, however, she had no idea what sort of urgent Alliance matter would constitute a call to her, personally – she was three years retired, and had thought herself to be off any and all official Alliance radar. Most days a call like this would set her mind racing, but at the moment she found her mind so full of other thoughts that the gravity of what might be waiting in the holocomm room could barely find purchase. She was so caught up in her own thought process that she barely noticed as she passed by what had once been the war conference room, until a sudden, large movement within the glass-panelled room made her suddenly stop, double-taking. Turning on her heel, she hesitated at the sight of the room, wary, before slowly starting to approach the glass to take a better look inside.

The large council table that had once stood in the middle of the meeting-room floor had been collapsed, just as Vega had suggested, leaving the room looking conspicuously bare, but Mov seemed to have done his best to accommodate the empty space. A small pot of dirt Shepard assumed had come from Parnack's jungle sat by the massive, starry window, with a shelf of books pushed up against the far wall, a tiny display made up of only what he could carry in the leather knapsack now lying empty in a corner of the room. As she stared in at the meagre display, Shepard found herself feeling suddenly watched, and when she looked up again, it was to find Mov staring back at her through the glass, his beady eyes fixed on her, unblinking, his ears giving a faint, thoughtful quiver as he watched her, waiting for some reaction. "I see you're admiring my collection," Mov observed, frankly. His voice was muffled by the glass, and as he stood to his full height from his mattress, coming to stand in front of her, she could not help feeling a sudden, unnerving twinge of familiarity at the sight, though she could not quite place if it was the yahg or the cage which made her more unsettled. "You're welcome to come inside," he told her, his voice rumbling, causing her to blink a few times as she looked up at him again, pulled back quickly to the present. "Take a closer look. I don't bite."

"Neither do I," Shepard answered, bluntly. She knew he was trying to keep her on her toes, but she had no intention of playing his games, and his little pseudo-threatening comments did nothing to warm her to his supposed charms. Nodding towards the bookshelf, she tucked her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, frowning a bit as her eyes moved over the titles printed on the spines. "I can get you a better shelf for those," she told him, attempting diplomacy. "Maybe a glass case, to keep them safe. I can't promise everyone on this ship is as careful as they should be."

Mov gave a long pause at the offer, his ears flicking back once before continuing to quiver, before he finally let out a long, low, drawn-out hum. "I like my books where they are, Commander," he answered, glancing over at the shelf now, himself, considering it as his webbed ears gave another thoughtful flick. "I can access them easily there. And if your son would like to read them, he's welcome to access them, too." Having said this, he turned his attention back to Shepard again, his ears quivering even more noticeably now as a visible eagerness appeared in his eight black eyes. "I chose a shelf low enough for him to reach," he added, matter-of-factly. "If you ever allow him onto this level, he's welcome to visit me back here if he chooses."

Shepard frowned at his offer, untrusting, unsure where this sudden, apparent change of heart had come from. She suspected he was trying to get on her good side after her thinly-veiled threats of an airlock-geared demise, but she still could not help finding his focus on David a bit unsettling, even menacing. He had nearly torn Vega limb from limb for simply picking up one of his books back on Parnack, yet now it seemed he was willing, even eager, to share them with a presumably heavy-handed toddler. "I'll pass the message along," she told him, speaking slowly, hardly bothering to try to sound convincing. "Though I doubt David would be interested in the same… subject matter you seem to be. Being… three."

"One should never underestimate the vigilance of children," Mov returned, cryptically, starting to turn away from the glass towards his makeshift mattress again. "They are often far more observant than we give them credit for. I doubt David is quite as clueless as you assume him to be, Commander. A child like David… sees and understands far more than you realize."

Shepard's frown deepened at the addendum, unsure if he was being condescending or not, before finally giving a short, sharp shake of her head, dismissing the comment entirely. "Right," she answered under her breath, too tired to think of any other response, before turning away from the glass as well and starting to head towards the war-room again. She cursed herself silently for ever agreeing to let the alien on board her ship, making a mental note that, once she was through dealing with whoever was on the comm, she would start looking for viable planets where she could most easily drop off a yahg.

The incoming message light was flashing on the comm panel as the door of the holocomm room slid open, allowing Shepard to step inside. She paused a moment as she passed through the doorframe, noting the faint, poignant chill still lingering in the atmosphere of the tiny space, making the hairs on her arm prickle ever so faintly as she moved to stand in the middle of the floor. A light array of dust mites drifted through the stagnant, dimly-lit air as she glanced around the circular enclosure, a technological mausoleum, frozen in time, untouched since the days of the Reaper War. Looking down, she could still see the faint scuff-marks from where she had anxiously scraped her boots across the floor while talking to Anderson, Hackett, and the Council, terrified that one of them might find out her secret and eradicate her from the war effort altogether. The thought made her realize suddenly how long it had been since the last time she had used this particular holocomm – that had been more than three years ago, but the terror those conversations had instilled still rang fresh as she stood in this room again, preparing to talk to whoever was waiting on the other end.

Looking up towards the comm panel again, she could barely contain a sense of almost melancholy dread as she reached forward, pushing the button to accept the incoming request, before stepping back to wait with bated breath for the call to come through. The holographic display fizzled blue static as it fought to solidify an image of the caller, every so often showing fleeting glimpses of a rigid pair of shoulders, or a long, locked pair of legs. Shepard figured the holocomm probably needed a minute or two to warm up again after such an extended period of disuse, but it took only a few seconds for the image to finally settle into a tall, semi-solid figure standing at military attention in the middle of the holo-pit. Shepard felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the messenger, but kept her expression impassive, not wanting to let on how much seeing anyone from her old military days still affected her.

"Commander," Hackett greeted her, his usual short, clipped introduction somehow welcoming to her ears.

"Admiral," Shepard returned, just as shortly, offering a quick nod of recognition as she tucked her hands behind her, straightening her posture respectfully. Military training ran deep in her blood, and though she knew she was no longer obligated to stand to attention for her former superior, it still felt right to offer him some level of respect. "What can I do for you today, Sir?"

"I've got an important assignment I wanted you to take on, Commander," Hackett answered, candidly, his bushy brows furrowing over his hard blue eyes as he said it. One thing Hackett could always be counted on for was getting straight to the heart of any matter. "I know you're not affiliated with Alliance networks anymore, but when the mission came up it automatically made me think of you."

"I appreciate that, Sir," Shepard returned, truthfully, allowing her stance to relax a bit as the conversation continued. "What's the mission, if I might ask?"

"You may," Hackett answered, matter-of-factly, offering a sharp nod in return. "The mission is a search and rescue operation. The daughter of one of our officers has gone missing from the housing units on the Citadel, and we fear she may have been abducted by slavers." Shepard's brow furrowed instantly at the mention of slavers, but she tried to keep her expression impassive as Hackett pulled up a projected diagram of the galaxy to float beside him in the holocomm display. "There have been a rash of refugee abductions similar to this all across the galaxy, with young people going missing – primarily children – all from family-populated areas such as Triton, Invictus, and Virmire," Hackett explained, pointing to the diagram, where several points had begun to spring up, showing the number of reported kidnappings across the various segments of the galaxy. As Hackett had mentioned, there seemed to be an alarming amount of reports in and around refugee-heavy areas, but Shepard could not help noting that a few were showing up near less obvious areas as well, such as Rannoch and Erinle. "We fear she may have been taken in the latest stretch of the slavers' operation," Hackett continued, waving a hand to collapse the diagram out of sight again. "We suspect these particular slavers' base is somewhere in the Arrae System, presumably on the planet Gellix, but that's as far as we've been able to trace them. We were hoping you might be able to look into it for us, and hopefully take care of the situation."

Shepard nodded in understanding, unable to help noting how eerily familiar this whole situation sounded, and it took her barely another moment to realize that it reminded her strongly of the situation Liara and Miranda had told her had happened to Oriana and Matilda. They, too, had been kidnapped while in the company of refugees, and the mention of the slavers' specific interest in children was a telling connection between the two. However, unlike Hackett's wards, who had been stolen directly from refugee camps, Oriana and Matilda had been targeted by pirates while on refugee-specific transport, making Shepard realize that, while the events were inarguably similar, she would do well not to get her hopes too high that she might find Matilda along with these other children. "I'd be happy to look into it, Admiral," she told him, tucking her hands assuredly into the pockets of her hoodie. Then, hesitating a moment, she frowned a bit, before adding, tentatively, "…If you don't mind me asking, Sir, what made you think of coming to me instead of simply handling this issue internally?"

"The Alliance is under a lot of scrutiny right now, Commander," Hackett answered, frankly, not bothering to tiptoe around the point. "We've been under tight surveillance since the end of the War, and I'd like to keep this incident out of official channels, if possible." Shepard nodded along, trying to keep her expression impassive at the mention of inspection into the Alliance's activities. It was heartening to know that Hackett still trusted her with this sort of information, even though she was no longer an active part of the Alliance, but she still could not help worrying that she might have been part of the reason they were under such intensive investigation in the first place. "With the government checking up on our every move, it would make the Alliance look bad right now to admit that one of our officers' children was kidnapped right out from under our nose by pirates," Hackett added, his lined brow furrowing solemnly, his steely eyes hardening as his scarred mouth drew into a thin, pensive line, as if the very thought of being possibly reprimanded for his actions by a superior was unthinkably objectionable to him. Shepard realized suddenly that she had never really considered the idea that Hackett might in fact have superiors, as he had always been the highest-ranking official she had ever reported back to during her time in the Alliance, and she found herself wondering what kind of person one would have to be to cause someone like Hackett to tread so carefully to avoid displeasing them.

She did not have long to think, however, before Hackett suddenly spoke up again, intent on moving the conversation forward. "In addition to that, I suspect the mission will probably be bloody," he added, drawing Shepard sharply back to earth, cutting her train of thought short. "It always is with slavers. But in this case there may also be deaths of minors involved, and quite frankly I'd prefer not to risk that coming up in official reports."

"Understandable, Sir," Shepard returned, nodding again, trying to keep her expression from wavering at the mention of the possibility of child deaths. She had been at war, out on the frontlines, and she knew how collateral damage worked, but she still could not find it in herself to justify the deaths of children as anticipated casualties. She promised herself silently that she would try to prevent as much of that from happening as she could on this mission, but she also knew well that she could not let her idealism get in the way of completing the operation as a whole. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that going out of her way to avoid the death of one child was not worth potentially forfeiting the lives of hundreds of others in the process.

"Hm," Hackett answered, shortly, seeming satisfied with the explanation he had given. "So you know, we'll be happy to pay you for your time, Commander. We don't expect you to do something like this for nothing. We'll wire the funds into your account beforehand, in case you need to stock up on supplies before heading out to Gellix."

Shepard faltered at the offer, pausing halfway through casually leaning her weight onto her back foot to blink a few times, wondering if she had heard him correctly. Then, finally, she shook her head, scuffing the heel of one boot absentmindedly against the toe of the other. "I couldn't ask you to do that, Admiral," she told him, honestly. "I'd be happy just to help the Alliance."

"I'm sure you would," Hackett replied, straightforwardly, seeming completely unfazed by her refusal. "But regardless, you're doing us a service. Consider it a regular contract commission. Payment for services rendered."

Shepard hesitated again, unsure what there was to say to this. "Thank you, Sir," she finally answered, willing her voice not to waver as she spoke. "I appreciate that." Shifting her weight again, she readjusted her posture, moving back to even footing as she tried to think of some way to conclude the conversation. She had never been good at small talk, and she knew how much Hackett hated it, but she felt awkward leaving the meeting hanging where it was. Suddenly, she remembered something, and she looked up at Hackett again, expectantly. "How is Admiral Anderson doing?" she asked, hoping the shift in subject did not seem too jarring to the Admiral.

Hackett's expression did not budge at the question. "Anderson is doing fine," he answered, matter-of-factly, as if he had been expecting her to ask all along. "He retired after the War, like you did. Got awarded a Purple Heart for his service. He and Kahlee moved back into that apartment on the Silver Strip, the one you gave them."

"They gifted it to me first," Shepard pointed out, honestly. "I just thought they could put it to better use than I could."

"Hm," Hackett answered, seeming to have no opinion on the matter one way or another. "Either way, they seem to be doing fine for themselves, as far as I know. Nothing groundbreaking to report. Though – Anderson was just asking about you the other day, come to think of it. Wanted to know how your son was doing." Having said this, he paused, lifting his scruffy chin a little, as if expecting to see David hanging around in the holo-pit somewhere behind Shepard. "I told him he was probably doing fine," he added, thoughtfully. "But if there's anything specific you'd like me to convey, I'd be happy to pass it along to him next time we have a conversation."

Shepard shook her head at the invitation. "No… nothing specific," she said, not wanting to weigh Hackett down with extraneous information. If she ever got the chance to speak to Anderson herself, she would have plenty to fill him in on about how David was doing, but she figured Hackett had enough on his plate already without trying to remember little personal details about her son's life. "He's doing okay."

"That's good to hear," Hackett returned, giving a short, accommodating nod. Then, taking a deep breath in, he took one last look around the vidcomm room, before turning his stark attention back to Shepard again, fixing her with an intensive stare. "I'll put through a command to wire the funds for the search and rescue operation into your account," he told her, directly. "I look forward to your success in this, Commander. Godspeed. Hackett out."

Shepard could barely remember the last time she had travelled within the Minos Wasteland cluster. There were no alien homeworlds here that she knew of, and no major commercial stops, which made the cluster ideal for anyone looking to disappear but not much else. Of all the planets within the cluster, she had been to only two that she could remember, both within the last months leading up to the final conflict of the Reaper War – Aequitas, to investigate the disappearance of a group of Alliance-affiliated miners, and Gellix, the planet she now found herself returning to. Her trip to Gellix had been an unexpected detour prompted by a distress signal Traynor had picked up, which had revealed a group of deserters on the run from Cerberus, including her former crewmate, Jacob Taylor. That rescue mission had been one of the last times Shepard had heard from Jacob, apart from getting to see him fleetingly during her farewell bash on the Citadel. After that, he had disappeared into his own life, his own agenda, far removed from Shepard and all the unexplainable things going on around her.

"Commander," EDI interrupted her train of thought, causing Shepard to blink a few times as she was pulled sharply back to the present. Turning her head, she looked down at the AI, who was seated neatly on the shuttle bench, her hands resting pensively against her elegant metal knees as she stared up at Shepard, as if waiting for a response. "Commander," EDI said again, seeming unfazed at having to repeat herself. "I said I am detecting electronic signals up ahead. Communication signals."

"What does that mean?" Shepard asked, her brow furrowing a bit at the mention of communication signals. The last time she had investigated an anomalous signal coming from one of the planets in the Minos Wasteland, it had turned out to be a Reaper trap, with Shepard and her party being attacked by dozens upon dozens of angry, mindless Husks before they even had a chance to draw their guns.

"It means we are on the right path," EDI informed her, setting her mind a bit more at ease. "I set us on a course towards the most densely populated of the raider camps. Statistically speaking, it is most likely our abductee would have been taken to this general population camp, rather than one of the specialized smaller camps." Blinking a few times out of habit, EDI turned her gaze to the external display, watching the blue-line mountain range tapering out across the screen. "They seem to be designated for other uses, and do not have nearly as much air traffic coming in and out as regularly," she added, matter-of-factly. "It seems likely that this camp would be the holding destination for all incoming detainees."

"I hope you're right," Shepard answered, more to herself than her party, before tightening her grip on the overhead handlebar as the Kodiak gave a faint rattle, rocked by the winter wind. Frowning at the unexpected turbulence, she glanced over her shoulder towards the exterior display, watching for a moment as the rugged landscape trailed lazily across the screen, noting how the miles of untamed, desolate terrain seemed so deceptively innocent-looking from the relative safety of the Kodiak. "What can you tell us about the planet, EDI?" she suddenly asked, turning her attention back to EDI again, hoping the AI might have some insight into how best to approach their current objective. EDI looked up in interest at the question, her expression keen, as if she had not anticipated being asked for her input, but was only too happy to give it.

"Gellix is a levo-amino garden world," EDI informed her teammates, obligingly. "Technically it is classified as being turian-controlled, but the environment and resources of the planet are not suited for dextro-amino inhabitants."

"It looks cold," Vega observed, frowning as another snow-capped mountain range began to creep across the screen on the external view.

"Turians hate the cold," Shepard added, nodding in agreement. "Makes sense they wouldn't want to stay here. Not sure what would make them want to claim it in the first place."

"Land for land's sake?" Cortez suggested, glancing over his shoulder towards the crew before returning his attention to the controls. "They probably wanted it so someone else couldn't have it. Makes sense… in a basic sort of way."

"Perhaps in an irrational, emotional sense," EDI returned, seeming unfazed by the interruptions. "However, fiscally speaking, it was a disaster. The turians attempted to profit from the land-claim by converting portions of the planet into penal colonies for humans. When that endeavour failed, a handful of ambitious mining companies tried to set up operation, hoping there might be more viable assets underground, but they were also thwarted by the planet's slim resources." Turning her silver eyes to the external display, she watched as the mountain range stretched on and on across the screen, her expression unmoving as she considered the monotonous landscape. "Now the planet has been all but abandoned," she told them, still speaking informatively, almost disinterestedly. "The mines have been cleared out, the equipment left to rust… and with the post-War economy, it seems the turians cannot even sell the properties they built prisons on for construction purposes. The prison buildings are still standing, but they have also been abandoned."

"Abandoned prisons sounds like the perfect place for slavers to keep abductees," Shepard pointed out, causing Vega's brow to furrow even further in silent, solemn agreement.

"An abandoned prison on some snow planet sounds like the last place I'd want to be abducted to," Vega answered, before giving a quick, sympathetic shiver at the thought.

"Commander, I'm reading a populated area coming up," Cortez suddenly reported, causing Shepard to look up at the announcement, attentive. "It looks like some kind of camp… I'm reading scattered groups. I can bring you in a little closer, but if we don't land soon they're sure to detect us."

"Put us down here," Shepard instructed, moving to the front of the carriage to lean against the back of the two piloting chairs, getting a better glimpse at Cortez's screen. "We'll walk the rest of the way. Better not to take any chances going in. Three warm bodies are less likely to be picked up on their radar than an incoming vessel."

"Two warm bodies," EDI corrected. "My body is synthetic. It will not be picked up by their thermal radar."

"Even better," Shepard answered, nodding in agreement, before turning her attention back to Cortez again. "We'll keep in radio contact to let you know if we run into any trouble," she told him, solemnly. "We're basically flying blind here, so… keep an ear out. We might need rescuing sooner than anticipated if things go sideways."

Cortez nodded in understanding, his solemn expression unchanging as he turned his attention back to the controls, pulling back on the manual steering to coax the Kodiak into a shaky landing. The shuttle wavered in the chilling wind as it hovered a few feet above the desolate, snowy landscape, the carriage door giving a deep, faint groan and crackle as it broke the sheet of ice that had formed on its exterior, before it finally popped open with a hiss to let the three inhabitants out. Shepard was the first to leap down into the snow, forcing herself to keep her composure as her boots sank into the soft snowbed nearly up to her calves. Then, turning back, she watched as EDI jumped down into the thick snow, unfazed, followed quickly by Vega, who stumbled a bit as his feet sank a full ten inches further than anticipated down into the powdery snowbank. "Good luck out there, Commander," Cortez told Shepard, leaning back between the two piloting chairs to get one last good look at the ground team before they started out towards the compound. "Let's get that little girl home safe to her family."

"That's the idea," Shepard answered, soberly, pulling her gun from its maglock.

The formerly abandoned penal compound EDI had identified as their destination had been converted by its overtakers into an effective fortress, and as Shepard crouched low behind a line of rocks, peering out around the side to take stock of its defences, she could not help noting that almost every inch of the compound was crawling with mercenary watchdogs. Ducking back behind their snowy cover, Shepard pulled her Avenger in towards her chest, letting out a sharp huff as she stared at the hazy grey sky, trying to figure out the best way to get in without being detected. Busting down the front door had always been her preferred method of attack, but with only three of them against hundreds of mercenaries, she knew that was far out of the question. She hated the idea of going in blind to a situation with such fragile life at stake, but she figured that was probably part of the reason Hackett put her on the mission to begin with. Even with the odds stacked impossibly against her, she almost always seemed to find a way to work around the problem and prevail, but even that thought seemed like small reassurance compared to what she knew she stood to lose if she failed in this particular mission.

Sparing another glance around the edge of the rocky outcropping, Shepard ducked low as she suddenly heard the sound of an approaching shuttle, watching from cover as a bulky, paint-stripped vessel descended heavily onto the landing pad of the slaver compound. As she watched, the hangar door of the vessel slid open, allowing a mixed group of human, batarian, and asari raiders to exit the vehicle, followed by a large, frightened-looking huddle of prisoners, all different ages and species, their hands locked tightly in front of them with high-tech laser cuffs. Shepard was familiar with those type of cuffs; they were safe for proper use, and their lightweight structure made them relatively pain-free if applied correctly, but they were nearly impossible to break out of, something she was certain these pirates and mercenaries were well aware of when choosing to use them.

"So what's the plan, Commander?" Vega asked, keeping his voice low, drawing Shepard back to the moment, making her realize she had still not managed to come up with a sufficient plan of attack.

Ducking back behind the line of rocks again, Shepard hesitated, trying to think of a satisfactory way to answer, before finally giving a curt shrug of her shoulders, shaking her head and jerking her gun over her shoulder towards the compound. "Go in, find the girl, get out," she returned, realizing that was not much of a response. "I'm not sure how we're going to get in, but every building has got to have weaknesses somewhere. All we have to do is figure out the most logical way to exploit them."

"Scans of the facility show there is an entrance around the back of the main penal holding structure," EDI informed them, her eyes flickering staticky white as she searched for readings on the area. "It seems to be less heavily-guarded than the front of the compound. With the facility boxed in almost completely on three sides by mountain ranges, it stands to reason they would think to guard their exposed side most effectively."

"Lucky for us we don't mind a bit of climbing," Shepard answered, checking her heat sink to make sure it was fresh. She had put in a new sink right before boarding the Kodiak to head down to the planet's surface, but it always made her feel better to double-check right before heading into combat. "How much resistance can we expect to be waiting for us on the far side of the main structure?"

"Scans are showing three armed guards," EDI reported, giving a thoughtful bob of her head as her readings came back in.

"That's one for each of us," Shepard joked, trying her hardest to stay optimistic. She realized that getting inside the compound was only one small hurdle, and after that lay the much larger task of finding the kidnapped girl, releasing her, and then escaping the facility with minimal casualties or harm to the other innocent prisoners. Even so, she knew how important completing this mission was, not only to her, but to the Alliance, and she realized that there was no way she would allow herself to let Admiral Hackett down.

"What about the other kids?" Vega suddenly asked, causing Shepard to look his way again, surprised. "What's the plan for them?"

Shepard frowned at the pertinent question, holding her breath for a moment as she tried to consider a possible, satisfactory solution, before finally letting her breath out again in a long, discouraged exhale and shaking her head. "Get out as many as we can, I guess," she answered, frankly, hating the taciturn response even as it came out of her mouth. "I don't know how many we can realistically expect to smuggle out without being detected. We're not exactly working with a huge search and rescue budget here." Vega made a face at her stiff, practical answer, appearing unsatisfied with the outcome, before quickly looking away again, seeming to realize that there was no other way she could have responded in their current situation. Shepard knew how much of a soft heart he had, especially when it came to children, but she was also aware that the idea of going above and beyond was only as practical as the resources they had available to them. Making one last check around the edge of the rock outcropping to ensure no one had spotted them yet, Shepard shifted back onto her feet, before indicating for Vega and EDI to follow as she began to slowly skirt the rocky ledges towards the back of the penal facility.

Shepard kept low to the snowy ground as she moved, keeping her Avenger clutched tightly to her chest as she attempted to pick the path of least resistance through the treacherous slopes that ringed the facility on its remaining three sides. As they finally crested the backmost mount, she peered out over the top of a high snowbank, checking to see where the three armed guards were standing relative to their position. All three stood attentively at the back door of the facility, watching the rocky mountainside for any sign of approaching adversity, and, ducking back down behind the snowbank again, Shepard let out a sharp, readying huff, preparing herself for the task ahead. "We need a way to take them out that doesn't cause too much disruption," she observed, causing Vega to look up at the instruction, listening intently. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves before we absolutely have to. If we could find some way to split them up, take them out one at a time, that might work best, but…" Pausing again, she pursed her lips, her brow furrowing as she tried to think of how they could possibly accomplish that feat. "EDI, any ideas?" she asked, turning to look back at the AI.

EDI blinked a few times, considering the question, running figures in her head as she tried to come up with a possible solution. "I can download a program that will disguise our voices to sound like batarians," she finally offered, looking up at Shepard again, helpful. "If I can figure out how to tap into their headset frequencies, we can use that program to lure them away from their guard point one at a time under the pretence of being called away by a superior. Then you can subdue or eliminate them as you choose once they are separated from the main point of defence."

"That's…" Shepard faltered, unsure how to respond to EDI's plan for a moment. While it was tactically brilliant, it was also frighteningly devious, and she could not help feeling a bit intimidated by how easily the AI had come up with something so chillingly conniving right off the top of her head. "Good idea, EDI," she finally answered, offering an eager nod. Scanning the environment around the back of the facility, she noticed several stacks of shipping crates that had been left piled up near the edges of the adjoining buildings, providing a perfect cover for the execution of their plan. Indicating again for Vega and EDI to follow, she began to make her way down the mountainside towards one stack of metal crates, careful to move slowly and make as little noise as possible so as to avoid detection until it was absolutely necessary. Finally reaching the stack of crates, Shepard ducked quickly into cover behind the pile, taking only a moment to steady her pounding heart before pulling up her omni-tool and holding it over to EDI to download the program she had mentioned. EDI's silver eyes rolled back in her head as she quickly downloaded the required software, before touching a finger to Shepard's tool sensor and copying the program easily over. Once she had finished, she ran a quick scan, her eyes flashing momentarily white, before she looked up at Shepard again, blinking a few times, adjusting back to the present.

"I have tapped into their radio frequency, Shepard," EDI informed her, matter-of-factly, seeming pleased with herself at the announcement. "I have transferred it over to your omni-tool, so you should be able to access it there as well. To speak to them, simply select the channel, then open the software that allows you to disguise your voice." Shepard hesitated at the instruction, unable to help feeling a bit nervous about the whole situation. She knew full well that if she did even one thing wrong, it could blow their whole operation, but even so she had no intention of letting her teammates see her falter. Quickly regaining her composure, she pulled up her omni-tool menu, selecting the icon for the hacked communication channel before opening the newly-installed voice altering software and quietly clearing her throat, preparing to speak into the tool.

"Hey," Shepard barked, clipped, doing her best to sound like a gruff batarian slaver commander. She could hear a faint echo of her own altered voice bouncing back to her through the channel audio, and she could barely hide a small, cheeky grin at the sound of her voice pitched down to an acidic bass. At this sharp command, all three mercenaries standing guard at the back entryway looked up in confusion, exchanging startled looks, all seeming equally surprised at having been addressed while they were busy standing duty. "Boss says he saw something suspicious over by the crates at the back of the East building," Shepard instructed, glancing over expectantly towards EDI and Vega, who nodded back silently, indicating that they were ready to take down the first mercenary who approached. "I need one of you knotheads to go check it out. The other two stay on duty. I figure one of you morons is enough to deal with whatever it is." Then, disconnecting from the channel, she collapsed her omni-tool again, pressing her back flat against the line of boxes, holding her gun at the ready as she listened for the sound of armoured footfalls crunching in the snow.

Shepard held her breath as she waited for the mercenary to approach, the sound of her heart pounding hard and fast in her ears as he began to move around the exterior of the crates. She could hear him pausing every now and again to look around for some sign of whatever he had been called over to investigate, and she could feel sweat beginning to bead on the back of her neck as she clasped and unclasped her fingers anxiously around the sleek line of her weapon, waiting for him to make his first appearance. As soon as the first sliver of his bulky form began to emerge around the edge of the crates, Shepard quickly lifted her weapon, stepping forward towards the unsuspecting slaver and smashing him squarely in the throat with the butt of the gun before he had a chance to react. The mercenary choked, dropping to his knees, his hand reaching up to grasp for his windpipe, and Shepard took the opportunity to smash him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious in the snow at their feet. Vega quickly shuffled over to stand over the mercenary, looking down at his sprawled form, nudging the batarian once with his foot before looking up at Shepard again, raised brows clearly visible through his snow-fogged visor.

"Brutal, Lola," he commented, though Shepard could tell he was obviously impressed.

Not bothering to respond to the compliment, Shepard grabbed the mercenary up under the arms, starting to drag him further behind the stack of crates before setting him down in a niche in the pile just out of sight of passers-by. Then, turning back to her companions, she pointed to the mercenary's distinctive armour, still out of breath from the surprise attack and dragging the heavy body. "Help me get him undressed," she prompted, shortly, urgency obvious in her tone. Vega hesitated, seeming confused, but Shepard quickly shook her head at his confusion, swallowing hard as she fought to catch the last of her breath. "We need his armour so EDI can put it on," she explained, crouching down to start undoing the straps of the mercenary's armour. "That way she can use that voice altering software and everyone will think it's still him." Shepard made a face as she fumbled with the fastenings of the mercenary's armour, noting that it was much bulkier than anything she had ever worn, and she could not help strongly suspecting the model was probably something painfully outdated he had bought on the cheap just for the sake of staying alive.

"James and I can pretend to be prisoners," she went on, grunting as she finally managed to undo the first of his forearm guards, setting it aside in the snow before starting to work on his elbow-guard, the next piece up his arm. "That way we can get inside without having to sacrifice our gear. EDI can tell the other two guards that she caught some stragglers trying to make a break for it, and she was given instructions to bring them back to the holding cells."

"Won't it look suspicious if we still have our gear?" Vega asked, crouching down to start helping Shepard undress the unconscious mercenary.

Shepard hesitated, setting the elbow-guard aside to join the other pieces they had managed to undo so far, before offering a short, honest nod, pulling off the mercenary's armoured glove and setting it down in the pile as well. "Probably," she returned, matter-of-factly. "But if we drop our armour, there's no guarantee we'd be able to get it back before we have to leave the planet. It's a risk, but…" She paused again, her brow furrowing further as she pried off the detachable shoulder-guard, before starting to move on to the clasps at the side of his chest-plate. "We just don't have enough disposable income to afford sacrificing important gear," she admitted, speaking in a lower voice, feeling almost ashamed to acknowledge this fact out loud. It was no great secret to anyone in the crew that the Normandy's funds were running low, but it still made her feel self-conscious to admit that they could barely manage to stay afloat in food and fuel without the added cost of replacing armour that had been left behind on missions. After a bit more struggling with the outdated armour, they finally managed to pry the remainder off, and they quickly tucked the mercenary out of the way of the wind before starting to reassemble the armour on EDI's much smaller form. "Let's just hope they don't know their buddy well enough to question him coming back three inches shorter," Shepard mumbled, tightening the forearm straps just enough that the guards would not slip off EDI's slender arms.

"I believe they will be more interested in my prisoners than my height, Shepard," EDI answered, fixing her with a knowing, silver stare. "This line of work is not likely to breed a spirit of sentimentality. I doubt many of them even bother to learn one another's names."

"I hope you're right," Shepard sighed, finishing tightening one last strap on EDI's chestplate before giving the armour a final, hopeful pat. Then, picking up the helmet from the snow, she handed it to EDI, watching as the AI slid it on over her head, completing the look of a bulky batarian pirate. The disguise was nearly perfect, save for a few awkward overlaps, but Shepard figured if she had not known that it was EDI under the armour to begin with, she might never have known the difference. "Now, listen," Shepard instructed, causing both Vega and EDI to look up at her, listening attentively. "We only get one chance to get this right. If they buy it, great, but if they don't… we'll play it by ear from there. Just remember, whatever happens, happens, but our main priority is getting that little girl out of here alive. Everything else is second to that."

"Right," Vega agreed, shortly, nodding in understanding.

Shepard nodded back at the motion, half-distracted, before glancing back towards the facility again, taking a deep, solemn breath, holding it, and then letting it out in a long, drawn-out huff. "It's now or never," she commented, quietly, more to herself than her teammates. Then, indicating for Vega and EDI to come along, she crossed her wrists behind her back, before stepping out from behind the crates and starting to move towards the back door of the facility where the two remaining batarian raiders still stood watching guard. It did not take long for the two batarians to catch sight of the odd, mismatched company heading their way, and they stiffened a moment, unsure what was happening, before finally seeming to notice EDI in the mercenary armour and settling down a bit, their rigid shoulders slowly starting to relax as they watched their apparent comrade approach, leading the two in front of him with his gun pointed squarely at Shepard's back. Shepard held her breath, barely daring even to breathe as she waited for EDI to make the first move, praying that the voice alteration software would work and they could get through this checkpoint unquestioned.

"Caught these two trying to escape," EDI informed the mercenaries standing guard, and Shepard could feel a wave of relief wash over her at the sound of her perfectly altered voice. "Apparently they were trying to sneak off-base. Stupid humans. Guess they thought nobody would find them hiding among those crates."

The batarian guards paused at the explanation, both staring at EDI as if they did not quite buy her story, but neither seemed to have a good enough reason to doubt her. "Hm," the first batarian finally grunted, looking scrutinisingly first at Shepard, and then at Vega, before turning his attention back to EDI again, as if still trying to figure out whether to believe her version of events. "Seems unlikely they'd be trying to escape. Not into this weather. Too damn cold." Shepard could sense Vega stiffening beside her, every muscle tensing as he prepared to fight, but he stayed blessedly composed, waiting to see what the batarian raider had to say next before springing into defensive action. "You sure they weren't just leftovers?" the batarian asked then, causing Shepard to falter at the terminology. "They just set out a new batch yesterday. Could be some of them. Might've snuck back on-base thinking it'd help them last longer."

"Leftovers wouldn't be stupid enough to be caught on-base," the second batarian cut in, shaking his head, causing the first batarian raider to look his way instead. "Besides, they can't be leftovers. Look at their clothes. They've still got their armour."

At this observation, the first mercenary's attention snapped quickly back to the two prisoners, giving them a quick once-over before looking over at EDI again, now more suspicious than before. "Why haven't they been stripped?" he demanded, indicating towards Shepard and Vega with his still-drawn weapon. "They should've been stripped at the waypoint. Their armour and weapons should be in the cache with the rest of the confiscated gear."

EDI faltered at the question, unsure how to reply, but Shepard quickly cut in over her, saving her from having to come up with an explanation. "The Alliance doesn't stand for blackmail," she hissed, taking a threatening step forward towards the two remaining guards. "They're gonna get us back, and they won't pay a cred of your dirty ransom. You picked the wrong colony to mess with, buddy. My husband—" But before she could finish her statement, EDI had cracked her upside the head with the flat side of her weapon, causing her to stop short as she staggered, stars forming in her vision as she fought to regain some semblance of her composure. The two guards snorted in malicious laughter at the show of violence, and Shepard quickly retreated, taking a step back to stand obediently alongside Vega again, dropping her gaze to the snow. She knew the attack had been a necessary act to uphold their façade, but it still stung like hell nonetheless, and she blinked a few times, shaking her head to try to clear it of the ringing sound still reverberating in her smarting ear.

"Quiet, prisoner," EDI snapped. Then, looking up at the two guards again, she jerked her weapon in the direction of the facility, indicating for them to step aside so she could walk her captives through. Seeming convinced of her authenticity now, the two mercenaries gladly moved out of the way, one of them entering a code on a nearby keypad to open the facility door for them. Shepard and Vega shuffled in first through the now-open door, keeping their eyes glued firmly to their feet, followed closely by EDI, shoving her weapon into the small of Vega's back, but as soon as they heard the door hiss shut behind them again, Shepard let out a heavy sigh of relief, feeling her hands unclench behind her from the anxious fists she had not even realized she was making. Coming to stand at attention beside Shepard, EDI stowed her weapon thoughtfully against the length of her bulkily-armoured arm, lifting her head at attention, her mannerisms now unmistakeably her own. "I am running a scan of the facility's layout, Shepard," EDI informed her, still speaking with the voice alteration software, and Shepard could barely hide a small, amused smirk at how strange it sounded to hear EDI's stiff, helpful speech coming out in such a gruff bass tone. EDI stood still for another few moments, collecting whatever data she could, before finally turning her helmeted gaze back to Shepard again, clearly finished with her search.

"There is what appears to be a large containment area in the heart of the facility," EDI informed her, sounding as excited as Shepard had ever heard her. "I believe this is where the prisoners are being kept. My scans are incapable of picking up the exact number of detainees but the cages holding them are very large."

"Any way to tell if this is the building where the children are being kept?" Shepard asked, hopeful, though she knew it would be foolish to get her hopes too high. The fact that EDI had a layout of the facility at all meant they were spared from going in blind, but it never hurt to try to get as much information as possible before delving into uncertain danger.

EDI shook her head at the question. "Not with any degree of certainty," she answered, honestly. "It is not outside the realm of probability. However, without conclusive knowledge about the exact demographic makeup of the prisoners and the layout of the other facilities it is impossible to know for sure until we actually enter the containment area and see for ourselves."

"Fair enough," Vega answered, nodding along, though Shepard could tell he was not completely pleased with the answer. Considering the circumstances, she found she could not really blame him, but she said nothing, not wanting to stir the pot of doubt any more than it had already been stirred. Letting out a soft sigh, she took a quick look around the facility entryroom, trying to determine which doorway would most likely take them down the path of least resistance, before finally deciding on the middle door, figuring it had to be the straightest route to the heart of the facility.

"Let's get going," Shepard prompted, indicating towards the door with a jerk of her head, causing both EDI and Vega to look up at the command. "The sooner we get to the holding cells, the sooner we figure out what's going on in this nightmare facility. With any luck that's where the children are being kept, and we can get the girl out with minimal resistance. If we do encounter resistance, though…" Hesitating, she trailed off again, unsure where she intended to go with this ominous statement, feeling Vega and EDI's eyes on her as they waited for the end of her proposition. "…Let's just hope we don't encounter resistance," she finished, not wanting to think about the alternative. "Hackett's depending on us to come back alive. I'd hate to disappoint."