It's been a long time between updates for this story, which I apologise profusely. I finished writing this chapter last year but I had a huge problem getting beta readers to review (alas my old ones seem to have disappeared from the fandom). I guess with ME3 ending its all lost momentum for some, but I'd like to finish the story although many seem to have moved on from ME2 now.

I'd like to thank Coombsi for taking a look (even though English is a second language) and Sialater for few pointers.

If you read and spot any errors, grammar, spelling or continuity – please let me know! Thanks!

Chapter 5 – Out of the frying pan

By the time Preitor reached his storage unit he was struggling for breath. Although he had maintained a reasonable level of fitness, his standards had dropped significantly since leaving the military. It was only the sheer level of adrenalin that had allowed him to run this far, this fast. As he closed the panel door behind him, he let out a small grunt of frustration.

"Damn." He rested his hands on the workbench in front of him as he continued to curse. "Damn, damn."

His left fist pounded against the steel of the bench and his voice rose.

"Damn, blast, hell!" His right fist followed. "Damn, blast, hell, shit!"

He stood up straight placing both hands behind his head and let out a final stream of expletives.

He took a deep breath hoping it would shake off his anger and looked down his shirtfront to see it speckled with blood. He removed it, inspected it for an area not covered with spots and wiped his face. His reflection in the steel cabinets showed most of the blood was gone and he tossed the shirt into a corner. He grabbed the tunic he had worn earlier and quickly placed it over his head, before dragging out his personal weapons stash from underneath the workbench.

He rummaged through the trunk and found anassault rifle that he put to the side as he continued to look for his knife.

"Where are you… fuck…? Ah there." He pulled out a large knife and holster; he pulled his pants up on his right leg strapping the knife securely before pulling the cloth down over top.

His comm device buzzed on the bench.

"Thul?" He shouted hoarsely into the comm.

"Preitor, what the fuck is going on? What's this garbled message I got from you about Therax and Lar?"

Preitor closed his eyes for a moment and pictured Lar exploding from his pressurised suit. He stiffened at the recollection and a quiver came to his voice. "Thul, it was… was a trap. The meeting… humans… everything just happened so fast."

"Preitor." Thul's voice softened, "calm down, take a breath, and then tell me exactly what happened."

Preitor felt his body relax with Thul's softened tone. "We took Lar to meet someone. It was a group of humans, one of them was a woman named Surina. Lar had something to give her, but when the transaction finished, Surina … she used biotics to kill him and Therax… I ran..."

There was silence at the other end of the comm. Preitor tapped the comm.

"Thul?" He said nervously.

"So you don't know if Therax is dead?" The krogan's voice had a rumble in it that Preitor had never heard before.

"I had no time to check." Preitor winced at his memory of Therax large frame slamming against the warehouse wall.

"Where are you now Preitor? Have they tracked you?"

He quickly patted himself down before responding, there was nothing planted on him, "I don't think so. I'm down in my workshop, grabbing a few things. "

There was a large sigh that came from the comm "Okay, get back to the hotel, tell Lorel what happened. Send me the location of where this meeting was and I'll go check on Therax. Report back to me when you've spoken with her."

"Lorel?" Preitor quizzed.

"Lar's assistant, Preitor. She came with him. She's a bit on the vacant side most of the time, but I've known her to pull through when it counts."

Preitor pondered this for a moment before responding, "Thul, this Lorel, was her picture in the file you gave us?"

"Yes, it was. Why?"

"Well, the assistant that was with Lar wasn't the same one as in the file."

"It wasn't?" Thul asked quizzically.

"No. Definitely not the same asari."

"Mmm, uh, okay." Thul responded. "Look whoever it is, you're gonna have to talk to them. They might know who he was meeting with."

"What do I say?" Preitor asked.

"I don't fucking know! Practice your diplomacy and bad news delivery skills."

Thul cut the conversation short before Preitor could quiz him further. He shook his head and quickly typed in the coordinates from the warehouse where the attack occurred. Having just had it repaired, he hoped his location device was working properly. The last thing he needed was for Thul to be sent to that seedy little bar he was at the night he broke it.

He opened up the large tall cabinet in the far back corner of the unit and grabbed the bottle of turian whiskey he had stored on a lower shelf. This one had been aged 15 years. He uncapped it and took three large swigs. He scratched under his fringe took another swig and sighed. He couldn't believe how this job had panned out. If word got around about this 'incident', he knew he would be saying farewell to his armed escort jobs. No one wants to hire a bodyguard that can't guarantee the best protection. Spirits, he hoped that Therax wasn't dead, that his body had merely reacted to the biotic blast and just knocked him out cold. He took a few more swigs. An old krogan merc once told him that their biology sometimes made them go 'cold', a sort of fake death, but he wasn't sure that was anywhere near the truth. From memory, the old krogan was drunk and in the midst of getting an asari lap dance at the time. Embellishment was a hell of annoying krogan trait.

He took one more look around the unit, patted himself down to make sure he had everything he needed and left. He walked swiftly to the next busy thoroughfare, looked around to see if he could spot any of the humans from the earlier encounter before hailing a cab and heading back to Lar's hotel. His journey over had him glancing behind him to see if any cabs were following, but it appeared that no one had seen him and no one was following him.

When he arrived at the hotel, he looked around furtively before heading into the lobby. He leaned heavily on the concierge desk. "I'd like to speak with Rodor Lar's assistant in room 602."

The concierge looked him up and down. She sniffed loudly in disapproval before answering, "Whom shall I say is calling?"

"It's Preitor Gavorn, I was the escort assigned to Rodor Lar."

"One moment." She replied haughtily.

The concierge tapped the comm device in her ear, and ran her finger over the terminal interface on the desk. She pursed her lips and looked back up to Preitor. "I'm afraid Ms Waloon checked out with her and Mr Lar's luggage about hour ago."

Preitor gave her a quizzical look before shaking his head, "Are you sure?"

"Quite." The concierge replied curtly.

This was starting to look very bad. Preitor sensed there was more to the snooty asari who had accompanied Lar. "Do you know where she went?"

"I'm afraid I can't divulge the coming and going of our guests," The concierge replied indignantly.

Preitor gave her a steely look, one that indicated that he was going to get the information come hell or high water. He smiled, a deathly turian grimace to most other species, but it was the best he could muster. "Look, just tell me where she's gone. This is a matter of life and death."

The concierge sighed and looked left and right before she whispered, "Look, all I am aware of is that she called a cab to take her to Privet market. She had all her bags and Mr Lar's as well."

Preitor smiled grimly again before nodding a polite thankyou and left the hotel employee to her business.

Privet market was a tourist site. Initially the only fresh market in the city, it had taken on a touristy flavour after the release of a popular action movie 'The asari with the thresher maw tattoo.' Most of the southern area of the market where he entered was food and grocery stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables as well as expensive imports of various off world. A wet market for fish was in the southeast corner and the meat market in the southwest. Clothing and apparel took up the bulk of the northern area of the market and this was where the main entry and some of the more souvenir shops were located. A narrow yet distinct 'runway' led to the centre where the food courts were.

When Preitor arrived, he looked around seeing if he could get any idea where this damn asari might be. The place was bustling with many races, asari, turians, humans, a scattering of elcor behind the market stalls, and volus standing outside their brick more established shops. Large numbers of outdoor tables and chairs were scattered around the area and at the very centre of the market was the bar 'Crown Jewel of Thessia'. It had a small bar area serving the open areas, but the majority of the bar itself, affectionately known as 'the crown', was underground. The Crown had become a hangout for those wanting to see or to be seen. Although in the open market part of the bar, everyone could partake in the large variety of beverages on offer, downstairs, it was a different story. It wasn't a place that Preitor felt comfortable, but he had been there several times with Dex, and knew the layout of the place well. It was quite possible that the asari was in the bar, it seemed the only logical place.

He made his way to the entrance where a throng of tourists were taking holosnaps next to the Crown's sign. A long line of people had formed waiting to get into the bar. He politely made his way to the front of the queue. At the door was Clint, an elcor who wastrying to make his way as an actor and subsidising his income as a bouncer.

"Clint." Preitor greeted him.

The elcor turned his big head towards him, "Preitor, with much pleasure."

"How's it going?" He fidgeted and looked warily around as he spoke.

"With excitement. Incredibly well, I may not need this job for long."

"Oh? An acting job?" Preitor's head nodded as he continued to look cautiously about.

"With enthusiasm. I have a part in the next elcor Shakespeare Company. With greater enthusiasm, it is my big break. With much excitement, I will be heading to the Citadel next week to begin rehearsal."

Preitor nodded his head again "Excellent news. I'm glad all your hard work has paid off." Preitor glanced around the crowd one more time, "I'm looking for an asari, Clint…"

"With much mirth, I think you can find one in the blue diamond…"

Preitor laughed "No! Not for that, I'm looking for someone who is in a bit of trouble and needs my help, I was wondering if you can do me a favour and let me in?"

"With hesitation. Agreed, but don't bother the VIP guests, I don't want to cause trouble on my last week here."

"Of course not." Preitor nodded and skipped past him before anyone in the crowd had a chance to protest.

Inside the smell of alcohol hit him straight away. He knew the smell of ryncol was strong, but this was on a whole other level. It was as if it had vapourised and the aroma permeated the air all around.

The crown was always crowded and today proved no exception. The space was under a huge dome with a rising glass ceiling that darkened from about 3pm most days. This allowed patrons to party for longer. The space was divided into three levels, the entry way and to the left and right a mezzanine encircled the dome, another level just below it was a second mezzanine, on the third and final level was a central dance floor with a large bar to one side and private rooms encircling the remaining space. There were bars on each level, but the one on the bottom floor mainly serviced the private rooms.

Preitor pushed his way through the crowd looking for a good observation spot. He was good at spotting people among a crowd, have spent most of his visits here just watching. He moved to the side and a spot opened up where he could take in all three levels. It was only just past 2pm, so the skylight still allowed the Illium sun to shine through and bright enough that he could easily see the faces of most of the bars patrons. He began to scan, looking to each asari he came across. His eyes narrowed as he caught a flash of shiny green emerging from behind a curtain. It was a concealed entrance to one of the private rooms. He immediately recognised the asari her green flowing dress billowed out behind her.

He moved as quickly as he could and squeezed through the horde of pleasure seekers to the staircase but stopped when he witnessed a human male following her towards the bar. He was almost as tall as he was, in casual dress but with a neat trimmed beard close to the jaw. The asari placed her hand on him and gave an open mouth laugh, before leaning in and uttering something to him, he looked indifferent. Preitor thought humans expressed this emotion, or lack of it, well. The human turned and made his way to the stairs where Preitor was standing, it was obvious he was leaving. As the human pushed through the crowd, a surge came from behind the man and pushed him into Preitor.

"Sorry." He said

Preitor fixed his gaze on the man's beard then his deep green eyes. He rarely came this close to humans.

"That's alright." He muttered his mandibles flaring.

The human smiled and continued up the stairs.

Preitor veered his attention back to the asari. She seemed to be remonstrating with the bartender, the smile and laugh she had given the human had disappeared without a trace.

Before moving to get closer to the asari, Preitor turned to look back up the stairs. He was surprised to see the human had stopped and was looking back at him the man's previously modest smile was now far wider and wry look was on his face. The human turned and continued his journey up the stairs.

Once again, Preitor turned back to the asari in time to witness her grabbing the glass proffered to her from the bartender and walking back to where she had emerged. He moved quickly, dodging a drunken volus in the process to follow her. He knew enough about these private spaces to know there would be two entrances, and at this time of day, likely a door attendant would staff the less concealed one.

Preitor watched as the asari ducked in through the concealed entrance. He then moved around to the other side, and as guessed, a turian door attendant stood patiently outside. Preitor forced his way towards the bar, trying to find a spot where he could view both entrances. Even for a crowded spot, there was an empty stool. He immediately claimed it. He called for ale and watched to see if the asari would emerge again. It was a good ten minutes before he observed three humans emerge from behind the turian door attendant. He took a large gulp of ale and sputtered when he saw one of them Surina. This did not bode well. Watching discreetly he slammed his unfinished ale on the bar and moved sleekly towards the room's concealed entrance, ducking quickly behind the curtain as soon as he was certain that the humans were well on their way up the stairs.

Inside, the room was dark, but he could see the silhouette of the door attendant covered in a shaft of coloured lights reflecting from the dance floor. The asari had positioned herself comfortably on the plush couch, her soft fringe peaking over the top. He stood in the shadows, waiting, knowing if the humans came back and saw him, there would be trouble. He stepped softly towards her, and as he got closer, he moved to face her, determined to confront her.

Her eyes appeared closed. The drink she had taken from the bar was lying sideways on the couch next to her. He kneeled down in front of her, and placed his hand over the darkening patch on her gown. "Shit." He muttered. It was likely a quick death, quiet and painless. A gasp sounded behind him.

An enormous glass jug of blue coloured liquid fell to the floor. The glass made a dull thud as it bounced against the soft furnishings. The unmistakable aroma of alcohol once again flooded Preitor's senses. The asari waiter looked to him then to the dead asari on the couch. Preitor moved as fast as he could, away from the shouts of the turian bouncer. He shoved several dancers aside as he crossed the dance floor. He didn't look to see the commotion behind him as he headed up the stairs, but it was loud enough to hear above the background of the noise in the bar.

More shouting from turian voices spurned him to run faster. All manner of drinks went flying from people's hands as he passed people on the stairs. A waiter approaching with a tray proved opportunity for distraction as he slammed his fist under her tray sending the drinks several metres into the air. He didn't look back. The turian bouncers were bigger than he was and he wasn't up for a fight.

Slamming through the exit the sudden brightness made him blink and the loud noise of the doors slamming behind him attracted the attention of nearby photographers wanting to snap celebrities as they left. The lights from cameras quickly replaced the daylight. Half-blind, he stumbled into the mass of tourists and pushed his way through impolitely. After reaching the edge of the horde, he looked to see if the gaggle of turian bouncers had managed to follow him.

He sprinted to the main exit where a stack of taxi's hovered. He pushed past the cab line, people protested loudly so he took out what credit chits he had and thrust them into the surprised asari standing at the front of the line, she let him pass. He could see that the humans he'd seen earlier in the Crown were now entering a private limousine only 30 metres in front of him.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Follow that limousine."

Twice in one day he'd been chased, twice he'd put himself in danger for the sake of his damn job, this damn job that had gone completely to shit. His usual good humour had disappeared, he was angry, angry at what had happened, angry at thinking he was ahead of the game, angry that these humans, whoever the fuck they were murderers and thieves, angry they had caused him this much grief. His eyes turned steely and he could feel his mandibles flare.

Preitor tried to calm himself. His jaw tightened as his teeth grinded hard against one another. He didn't know what to make of it all. What did Lar have that was important? Who was the now dead asari? How was she involved? This human biotic… it was so rare to see them. Who was she? Military, merc, or terrorist?

"So did you see that clawball match on ESPN global?" the asari cab driver asked.

"What… uh no." Preitor replied distracted by his own ruminations.

"Well, you should have. I mean Acteon Travus was phenomenal!" The cab driver paused but continued when Preitor failed to respond. "I mean he has to be the best in the Palaven league. You're a fan of clawball?"

Preitor felt his jaw relax and he nodded, submitting himself to small talk from the driver. "Yes, I am, but I follow the local leagues in Edessan." He said absent-minded.

"Don't know much about the Edessan leagues. Aside from a few players. Hey are you from there?" she asked.

Preitor nodded again, "Yes, but I haven't lived there for years."

The asari drummed her long fingers on the wheel before replying "That Laelius Manius, he's from Edessan isn't he? I heard he's pretty good."

Preitor shook his head, "Yes, that's right, he's from Edessan." He'd forgotten all about Laelius since he returned to Illium, of all places and times to have this conversation.

"That limo looks like it's heading to the spaceport. Do you want to go there?" She asked.

"Let's just see if they are." He knew if that's where they were going it might be difficult to follow them, security being reasonably high in places like the spaceport.

"Yup, that's where they're headed." She leant over and turned on the cab network radio, "You don't mind?" the asari asked.

Preitor shook his head. He was glad that the radio distracted the driver from talking to him. It gave him more time to think. He still had to formulate what he intended on doing once he got to the spaceport. Would he confront her? No, too dangerous. Follow them? Much safer, as long as none of them recognised him from the warehouse.

The radio droned in the background. "Breaking news…a disturbance in Privet market sees a police searching for a turian last seen running from an incident in the popular Crown of Thessia entertainment complex …"

Preitor's ears pricked at the last statement from the radio.

"Can you turn that up a bit?" he asked the cab driver. He had given little thought to the aftermath of what happened in the Crown. It was a very public place, and he hadn't even thought that there might be cameras.

They were on the main freeway into the spaceport and he could see the limo turning into the international section.

Shit, they're going off world.

They pulled up not close behind where the limo stopped and the human passengers alighted and headed towards the terminal gate. As they cruised to a stop Preitor noticed a large vid screen near the entrance, several people were milling around. He saw his figure cross the screen and a still framed close up of his face came into view. A ribbon underneath said 'wanted for questioning'. Damn. He could do nothing but remain in the cab.

"Don't stop, keep going." His voice quavering.

The driver could also see the screen and turned to look at him her mouth agape.

"I have a wife! An… an… children!" The panicky driver exclaimed.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you…" Preitor thought for a moment, he couldn't go back to his apartment. His workshop wasn't listed under his name – purposely. He could go there, but he remembered he had a bag at Thul's place of business. He gave instructions to the driver and they turned around and headed down town.

Preitor threw some extra credits in the direction of the driver, "I'm not going to hurt you." He reiterated, "Just take me to the lower market district and I promise you can go."

The driver turned to the front and sped up as they departed the spaceport entrance.

"Please don't hurt me!" The driver continued to plead.

Preitor continued to reassure her. When they arrived at the market district, he told her to get out of the cab. She obeyed without hesitation, her face a mask of relief and he took over the driving. Stopping several blocks from Thul's place he dumped the cab and jogged the rest of the way.

Thul's place of business was typical for that of a krogan with an organized asari partner. The office area was small but it had a large formal meeting area for clients off to the side, this area was neat and tidy and big enough for Jelanna to work uninterrupted even if a meeting was taking place. It smelled of Thessian violets.

Preitor rushed into the office breathless. Jelanna was seated quietly busy with office work. She looked up for a moment, barely registering Preitor's edgy state, smiled and pointed to the mess area. This was the operational area. It was around a large partitioned wall and divided into change rooms, a mess, and a small lounge area. It was tidy for a change, but it had a level of grime typical for a krogan. Right at the back, there was also a small firing range with weapons storage area that could be accessed from the mess as well as the garage area at the back of the premises.

Preitor found Thul and Sarg, another of Thul's krogan employees standing near a large vid screen in the lounge. He was talking loudly and gesticulating at the vid screen in front of them.

"Just another mess I have to clean up," he shouted.

"Thul." Preitor stuttered – no reaction, he spoke louder "THUL!"

Thul turned realizing that it was Preitor and thundered towards him "Preitor, what the hell are you doing here? It's all over INN! The Asari police force has sent for a Justicar. What were you thinking killing Lar's assistant?"

Preitor recoiled from Thul's large form before answering, "It…it wasn't me Thul, it was the same humans who attacked Lar in the warehouses earlier." He paused before adding, "What about Therax? Did you find him?"

Thul, gesticulated wildly again. "Therax is fine, a mammoth krogan headache is all he has, he's lying low till it all blows over – you need to as well, but not here. You're going to have to leave here. Now."

"I will, I will. Just as soon as I get my bag I left here for emergencies, then I can lay low in my storage locker for a bit, no one knows I have that space. Until I figure this thing out and what the best way to approach the pol…"

Thul interrupted him, shaking his head violently "No, You have to leave Illium, off world, you can't stay here."

"But… what are you talking about? I haven't done anything, just wrong place, wrong time. We can just explain it to the…"

"They are sending for a Justicar, Preitor. Do you know what that means? It means she'll be around here too, and that isn't going to happen. No nosey fucking asari Matriarch is going to set a foot here if I can help it. The people who did this aren't your everyday mercs. Therax is an idiot, but even he can't get the foul stench of Cerberus out of his nose. Fucking humans."

"Cerberus?"

Thul nodded, "They reeked of it. It's likely some weapons deal gone bad – I can't see any other reason for a Spectre to be involved. You need to be anywhere that isn't Illium, or anywhere in council space for that matter."

"But the asari? I mean, who the hell was she to attract this much attention? She was working with them. They likely got rid of her because she knew too much!"

The silent Sarg now spoke, "That dead asari was not just any asari, she was a council Spectre, who was apparently working undercover and managed to replace the assistant Lar had previously."

"What? How?" Preitor was confused.

"Well… I had a little, err um, 'engagement' with Lar's previous assistant, coincidentally. A few drinks and some pillow talk later she told me what had happened, how a council representative had approached her, how she would be helping the government of Thessia spoil a terrorist plot." Sarg looked a little sheepish at the admission. He continued, "The job was supposed to be mine but as soon as I knew the council were involved I refused the job."

"And you never bothered to tell Thul?" Preitor looked incredulously at Sarg.

"I guess so. I didn't think it was a big deal. I refused the job because… yeah… uh me and the council… history, ya know. Didn't want to end up in one of those floating prisons." Sarg said.

"What the fuck? I get sent to deal with a protection detail against terrorists? It would have been nice to fucking know!" Preitor said angrily.

"The news is reporting on a council Spectre being murdered. Apparently the Spectre was spying on Lar and looking into illegal weapons trading. I knew this job was too good to be true." Thul muttered as he punched Sarg in the arm.

Thul thrust his finger into Preitor's sternum "Getting your face plastered all over camera… You're not much smarter than a Vorcha." He shook his head, "Dumb as a crateful of pyjaks." Thul began pacing back and forth. "You need to get out of here now."

"How can I do that? My face… you said it's plastered everywhere. If only we'd known…" He glared at Sarg.

Thul grabbed Preitor by the arm and dragged him out in the direction of the office. "Here, I have an idea. Jelanna, sweetie." Thul's tone rapidly changed to address his asari partner. "Can you do us something me?"

Jelanna stopped what she was doing, fluttered her eyelids, "Of course."

"Can you Paint this dumb ass turian's face and make him look like someone from another clan?"

"You know I can." She ran her hand along Thul's arm, before turning her attentions to Preitor.

"Sit down, Preitor."

An hour later Preitor had been painted, been given some false papers, had a change of clothes and was wearing the Kandros clan colours, the bright red carefully masking his own dulled white markings.

Thul picked up a data pad and thrust it into Preitor's hands. "Get to the Space port, don't go anywhere else not even your workshop. I'll sort that out and make sure you get what you need. When you get there. Go see Arista Mar at the Eezo café. Arista will have a ticket for you out of Nos Astra and off Illium. She'll also have a contact for you at your destination. Go, before you cause any more problems."

"Thanks… Thul, I'm not sure it's the right decision to leave… but I guess once it's sorted, I'll see you soon."

Thul grunted and punched Sarg in his other arm. "Go get him a cab at least dumb ass."

The cab ride over was a haze, it seemed all too surreal. Even though he'd been involved in in illegal weapons modifications, most of it was petty stuff. The closest he'd come to any real trouble with the law was an unofficial warning after a shotgun he modified for a krogan was fired at the head of Biosoft Universal at Noscon E12. Apparently the krogan was pissed off because the latest gaming console would require holographic interface every 12 hours. The police who apprehended him managed to somehow get out of the krogan who had done the barrel mod on the weapon. They tracked Preitor down, had a 'little chat' with him. He'd lied and said it was a once off mod. He hadn't been worried by the official caution. This was different. Talk of the asari being a Council Spectre, terrorism relating to seriously illegal weaponry and the fact that within the hour they were calling on a Justicar to deal with the problem, had him seriously spooked.

At the spaceport he quickly made his way to the Eezo café. There was only one person in the café.

"Arista Mar?" He asked.

She looked Preitor over before answering, "I don't want to know. Thul's got a damn cheek asking me for this. Give me your data pad."

Preitor handed it over and she punched in some information. "Gate 65, go there now. Hurry, the transport leaves in 10 minutes." She dismissed him with a wave.

Preitor made his way briskly to gate 65. He didn't run, just in case he drew attention to himself.

He could see the large '65' and could make out 'Via the Hourglass Nebula' but it was only when he got closer to the gate he could see the final destination.

He stopped in his tracks.

Fuck. Anywhere but there.

The red neon glow of what would be his journey's end point was unmistakable.

Omega.