Zenobia Vartius

Lunatic

Good Times, Good Times (Part 1)

---

Both teams were quickly learning the downsides to inviting someone like Zenobia to a party like this one. It wasn't that she tended to live up to her nickname, though that was certainly an issue to some people. No, it was more that she tended to get...creative with her song choices when the karaoke mics came out, and with enough booze in her...

"You don't have to beeeee rich

To be maaaaaaah girl!

You don't GAHT TA be cool

To rule maaaaah world!

Ain't no particular shign

'more compatible with!

I just wantshur extra time and your-"

Zenobia ended her bout of screeching karaoke with a powerful spin on her heel that she was too drunk at this point to control, toppling right off the stage and crashing onto a table. Her vision swimming, she looked up and saw a shape that looked vaguely like a green asari and made a smooching sound before giving her finger guns.

"K-iiisss..."

As she felt herself graciously slipping into unconsciousness, she felt someone prodding her, trying to wake her.

"Zen, come on...come on.......come on.........."

---

"Come on, get your ass moving. Don't have all day."

Zenobia yelped as the cold metal was shoved against the small of her back, stumbling on her bad leg. The infirmary doctor managed a brief, sympathetic glance before he turned away, leaving Zenobia alone as she hobbled towards the door, bumping against the frame with her bad arm. The drugs weren't working. She could barely breath without feeling a stabbing pain in her chest, she shivered as a trickle of blood inched down her jaw from the deep gouge soaking the patch over her eye. No one said a word of course. This thing was the Cabal's problem now.

The short trip through the barracks turned agonizingly long as the biotic turian limped down the corridors, dead silent save for her ragged gasps and the sharp footsteps of the guard escorting her. Faces peered out from doors before vanishing as she passed them by. Fellow trainees Comrades. One lingered too long, and she recognized it as a friend, one she bonded with after they did well on an exercise together. A friendship he repaid by breaking her ribs. Her weak fingers clenched for a moment before she hung her head and pressed forward, trying not to look up again.

The cold stinging breeze was a small mercy, one quickly lost as she stumbled onto the tall grass, the transport shuttle looming ahead of her. With a start, she recognized it as the same vessel she had to load up just a few scant weeks earlier on disciplinary action. It was an ammunition hauler.

And just like that, it hit her like an avalanche. Just a few days ago, she was a promising young soldier, ready to come into her own, ready to finally prove herself and do great things for her people. For once in her life, she felt proud of herself, confident, maybe even a little happy for the first time since she left for the service.

And now, she was cargo. Property. No more valuable then a mediocre stockpile of heat clips. Tears mixed into the blood trickling down her face, as she bent over in a desperate, pained sob.

And then...a sharp pain. The blow of a rifle against her cheek, sending her reeling.

"Stop crying and get moving!" the guard barked at her as she smacked against a wall, leaning against it for support, her battered arms quivering. Her sobbing abruptly stopped, her heart suddenly beating against her chest like a distant artillery barrage, the pain amplifying her sudden burst of clarity.

"I said...!" he declared, raising his gun again. "Get-"

The shuttle pilot awoke with a start as an unearthly shriek came from outside the shuttle. Hopping up to investigate, he came down the ramp and saw the prisoner he was supposed to be taking straddling the guard and punching him repeatedly in the face, wailing with each brutal hit. Stumbling in shock, he reached for his sidearm and bumped against the side of the ship. Zenobia swung around like a whip, her face splattered with blood as her biotics pushed her to her feet again. With another resounding shriek, she leveled a crude blast of biotic energy that sent the pilot head over heels, giving her time to clamber on board the shuttle and hobble into the pilot's seat, dropping into it with a pained grunt as an alarm started blaring behind her.

"Shut the fuck up!" she snapped at the shrill noise as she struggled to get the ship started up with one bad arm and most of the fingers in her hand broken. "Lucky this isn't a fighter or I'd strafe you fuckers. Least you deserve, you and this whole fucking system." Continuing to mutter, she finally just slammed her fist into the controls, flinging blood across the viewscreen as the ship finally spooled up its engines. "Hell I'll come back with a proton bomb strapped to my ass and blow you fuckers to aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH!"

The shuttle had substantially more kick then she thought and it sped off like a lightning bolt, cleaving through a wall and clipping the comm tower alerting the mass relay to the escapee. Thrown back against her chair, she managed to pull up the control stick to avoid slamming into a nearby mountain and pitched up, up, up until the inky blackness of space overtook the dour blue sky. Flicking on the autopilot to take her to the relay, she leaned back in her chair, her heart still pounding ferociously in her chest. She caught a glance of her reflection in the window, looking like she had a disagreement with a meat grinder, the patch now soaked through and oozing onto her uniform. She tilted her head and scowled.

"Outstanding move," she murmured. "Made a bad situation worse. Dumbass."

Her reflection seemed to grin back. "You weren't going to go back home anyway. You know what happens to Cabal recruits."

Zenobia scoffed. "Yeah, and I know what happens to idiots who cold clock two people and bail with a stolen shuttle."

"Yeah, they get to live."

Turning to glare at her reflection, she spat out blood on the console. "And that's just going SO FUCKING WELL, isn't it?" Her breathing haggard and rough, Zenobia sat there for a good minute before she relaxed and slumped in the seat. "I didn't want this..."

"Don't kid yourself. You know why you spent your whole life hiding. You know what the Hierarchy does to people like you."

Snarling, Zenobia started to tear off the collar in chunks with her unbroken hand. "Didn't need to happen like this," she remarked coolly.

"But this is more fun."

Zenobia glared in shock at her reflection. Fun?! It was the most traumatic experience of her life! She'd never see her home again, forever branded an outlaw! She'd have to be some sort of lunatic to find this fun...

"Relay to shuttle, please state your destination."

The irritated voice of the mass relay station attendant shook her out of her head, and she grabbed for the controls. "Uhhh....Omega Relay?"

"Right, stand by."

Zenobia glanced down at her hands as the shuttle approached the relay, slowly dripping blood onto the console. And she couldn't help but smile, just a little bit...

Kysar “Venator” Proctus

Solveig “Wraith” Winstrom

Kysar was wide for a Turian. A fact which was most inconvenient when it came to sleeping on a couch. A quarter of his torso hung over the lip of the cushion, leaving one of his arms to flop about uncomfortably. The length of his body didn’t help either, being too long for the blasted thing, his legs draped over the wicker twinned arm, undoubtedly leaving their mark on his skin. All this would have been tolerable if not for the racket next door. A night of Nadara and her new plaything kept the Turian awake, forcing him to sleep with a pillow over his face just to block out the noise.

The hallways weren’t safe either. At one point Kysar had wanted to take a break but as he left the room, he caught the human quickly ducking back inside, leaving a foul smelling odour in his wake. The Turian had made a mental note to ask Awks if her kind had some sort of defence mechanism when scared though such a thing would be news to him.

Still, dawn broke all the same and Kysar had made the most of their complementary breakfast by ordering it up to the room. Zenn was splayed out on the bed. His lack of snoring was an eerie feature of his enviro suit but the Quarian tossed and turned every now and then, displaying at least some sign of life. Munching on a dextro sausage, the Turian opened his omni-tool and began browsing the web. Ugh, he thought, a message from Primarch Invectus, what does he want this time?

Flicking the notification to the side, the Turian decided to deal with the Primarch’s nonsense at a time of his choosing.

Next was the news. Right, Batarian’s being Batarian, Human’s being Human, corporations doing what they do… oh that’s interesting, Konesh you ballsy old dog. Kysar’s eyes darted from the orange glow of his omni-tool to Zenn, then back to his wrist. Wonder how that one is going to go down. He isn’t going to haul our asses into the middle of nowhere again, right?

Moving on, the Turian raised an eyebrow at news from the Hierarchy. What was left of his old unit was being turfed out into space under the guise of “pardons”. Conditional pardons maybe. He mused, tempted to return to his messages to see if he’d been given the same raw deal. Fuck him, he can at least wait for me to finish breakfast. With a bite of his final sausage, Kysar flicked onto the last story.

Human memorial service, how sweet, I wonder if… wait, what the fuck? Kysar’s back straightened in an instant as his face closed in on the hologram. Winstrom, Vice Admiral Agnes Wistrom. Following a hyperlink, the Turian jumped to another article.

Heart attack. Survived by her only daughter, a well decorated Alliance soldier.

Sifting through a few more press releases, Kysar found a date. Oh Sol… Windhoek, I had no idea. Standing, the Turian kicked the leg of the table. You fucking idiot Kysar, how could you not know?

Tearing out of the room, the Turian bounced down the stairs dodging staff and any other early risers. Galloping up to the front desk, Kysar demanded a cab from the receptionist. “Of course Mr. Proctus, where are you headed?” Panting, he replied. “The gym, take me to the gym.”

---

Solveig's morning had started much like it always did. Mornings were never different. She opened her eyes in the bed that could stand to be more comfortable. She couldn’t complain, she’d slept on hard floors when it had been necessary. Something different today disturbed her routine… a smile.

A shower, lukewarm today to wash her hair, and then her hands got to work in setting the length of it into two Dutch braids - finishing up at the base of her shoulder blades. Others still slept in their beds at the hour she left the dorms, and she wondered if she’d even slept enough. She couldn’t complain, she’d taken on missions on less.

The gym was empty and cold - the equipment stark, basic, and uninviting - some of it broken even. She couldn’t complain, she was used to the cold. After a quick warm up and stretch, she made her way today to the punching bag in the corner and began punching it with her right hand swiftly, following with a low kick, before moving around the bag and doing it again. Over and over. Over and over. Her mind fell blank of thoughts, Solveig had only a sense of complete focus on the movement of her body - feeling each and every muscle as it worked. She felt the strength of her kick in the way the bag absorbed it, the sound it made. A solid and heavy thud.

Higher kicks now. Three in a row. One. Two. Higher. Three. Highest - twist. One. Two. Higher. Three. Highest - twist. Over and over. Over and over. Outside, the sun would be rising soon, but inside the time slipped away in her quiet, meditative focus. She had no idea of the news update, and no idea when Team 2 or 3 would be stirring.

The gym door creaked, echoing around the room as Kysar pushed it open. Despite practically pelting it to the gym from the lodge, the Turian had taken a moment to compose himself just outside the door. Perhaps he wasn’t willing to foot the bill for another broken door or, more likely, he didn’t want to seem too eager.

“Sol!” The entrance to the gym was on the opposite side to the punching bags. Without so much of a second thought, Kysar had called out to the woman as soon as he saw her. Idiot. So much for not sounding desperate.

Kysar’s voice immediately drew Solveig out of her focus and toward the Turian. ”Venato-uh, Kysar,” she answered, facing him, the bag swinging just so, the last of her kick’s momentum leaving it. ”You need something?”

“I-er…” Kysar stuttered, his hands wringing each other out as the Turian began to feel beads of sweat form along his forehead. Why was he so nervous? He had never shied away from conflict before. Ky could feel his heart beat in his ears, seemingly thumping with irregularity. In truth, the Turian had grown accustomed to conflict but what he didn’t realise is that he wasn’t used to caring about someone else.

“Sol… Windhoek. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

As Solveig stepped away from the equipment and toward Kysar, she paid close attention to his movements, the way his hands twisted around each other. She did that too when she was unsure or anxious. Her eyes narrowed, the silver-blue of them focused closely on her teammate and her head cocked to the side. Curious, she thought to herself. It wasn’t like him to be nervous. ”Windhoek…? You haven’t – didn’t do anything to apologise… I’m…”

She paused then. She read it in his eyes, and when she finished the word, what she’d been avoiding blew back in. How does he know? she asked herself and her eyes inadvertently narrowed further, her posture changed. ”Don’t be. Or… Thank you, but no need.” Both fists were balled, and she shook her head, turning away. ”I’m.. I’m fine. I, I trust you slept well?” she asked, changing the subject - unable to look at him.

Kysar stepped in towards Sol, tempted to stop and embrace her just as he had once before. Instead, the Turian kept moving, taking another step towards the still swinging bag. Placing a hand on it, he brought it to a stop. Opening his mouth, he croaked once more. Say it! A voice deep from within hissed, familiar in its venom. Scipio. Quit being such a coward and say it!

Gritting his teeth, the Turian’s fingers balled into a tightly wound fist. Say it! Scipio repeated. With a sharp exhale through his nose, he opened his mouth again. “I was angry with you. Angry when you left. At the time, I… I dunno, I thought I blew it off. Didn’t care about you or the Alliance but when I woke up, when Nadara found me and I saw you again, I was angry.”

”But you’re right to be angry!” Solveig said clearly, her voice raising. She rolled her shoulder back with a twitch. ”I-I left. I left.” She breathed in, wringing her own hands now, pacing. ”If only. I mean. I just. Just why? Why then? Ev-everyone gone…” She motioned between stopping and starting with her pacing. She couldn’t hate Kysar for what he’d admitted, she could only feel his sudden regret for it and that was even worse. ”If this hadn’t happened, if I was there…” Not wanting to sound like she was some big shot hero, she shrugged and shook her head. ”At least someone else might- could have saved one of them. Even one. Be… Be fucking angry Kysar...”
Solveig exhaled, looking down at the floor. She felt her voice quieten again. ”I am.”

Kysar swung the bag, following it with his fist as it drifted back and forth, giving it momentum. It was mesmerising, as if it was a metronome, something to help keep his stray thoughts at bay and the potential gaze of his friend out of his cone of vision. The Turian couldn’t bear to look at her, not yet at least. “No, Sol, I’m trying to say I was wrong to be.”

An image of fire flickered across his mind as he thought back. “I was there that day. It was Jelize over the encrypted channel, telling us to go down the alley. Then a different voice told us to drop the device. We hardly got an answer out when they activated another one hidden in a dumpster. Everyone went down except for Keslia and I…”

Kysar felt his chest tighten, rage sparked inside his heart, seeping into his lungs. His torso began to rotate back as he cocked his fist. “Her biotic barrier and my tech armour saved us but they knew what they were doing. The bastards rained molotovs down on Karnoc.” The Turian fired, his body rotating back, flinging forth his arm and striking the bag. “Keslia stepped forward to retaliate when they hit her too. Drenched her in fire.” Kysar hit the bag again with a left. “She saved my life, gave me time to activate the beacon.” Another, harder, hook from his right.

“But it was already too late. They swarmed us, dragged off Katya and Tamás before I could even take a step. I didn’t even see where Kaya went.” More punches. Left, right, left, left right. “They fired a shotgun right into Karnoc’s head.” An image of bright orange blood coated the interior of his mind. “I fell back, trying to find cover behind a gap in the fence when they hit me too. I tried. I crawled away when those humans got me. Last thing I remember is the butt of a shotgun closing in on my head.”

Shutting his eyes, the Turian hammered the bag with a flurry of punches, only stopping to catch his breath. “I was there Sol, if you were too, you’d just be another name on that wall.”

The bag moved with every punch of Kysar’s, the sound enough to turn Solveig’s head back to him, and as he spoke - not daring to interrupt, she let him go at it. Let him speak it out loud, she just listened to him and allowed his words to burn a clear image of it all in her mind. It filled out the clear space she had worked to create, a storm of blood and ash swirling against the backdrop of Havana. She made her way to his side, and then in front of him - catching the punching bag to hold it still as it swung. She held it for a while, in silence as she thought.

”If… You were angry then and aren’t now… I. I don’t care about that.” She held it tightly, gripping into its material. ”It doesn’t matter. No time to… Dwell. Matters how…” Solveig paused, closing her eyes, biting on her lip. ”Matters how we honour who we lost… Matters how we… Protect our team now.” She thought of Zenn. Then of her jumping on that violent Brute without much time for second thought of consequence. How the three of them took it down, Kysar with the killing blow. ”If I’m on that wall…” She opened her eyes again and stared across the gym. ”It’s so someone else doesn't have to be. Th-that’s my job. That’s… What I was made for…” Her arm twitched again, as if the thing was responding to her words.

Kysar sighed, unclenching his fists as his arms fell to his side. “You’re more than that, Sol.” Now standing in front of the Turian, he made sure to catch the woman’s eye. “You aren’t just a name waiting to join a memorial. You’re a friend, a comrade, a real life person with thoughts and feelings. Not just some tool for a militaristic organisation.” Kysar sighed again, rocking on his back foot.

“My point is I should’ve just talked to you about this. I should have known better or realised there was something more to you leaving when you did. I’m sorry about your mum. I know how losing a parent can change things.” Pausing for just a moment, Ky felt a sense of warmth emanate from his hand, the final touch of his dying father still lingered within him after all this time.

“So, I dunno, if you ever want to talk about it?” The Turian smiled as a small chuckle escaped him. “I know that’s not quite your strong suit but ah-” Putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, Kysar continued. “I’m here.”

Solveig looked at Kysar’s hand, and then into his eyes. She wanted to keep the box closed, pushed right back in the dark corners where it was just a quiet, constant hum and nothing else. But… She’d already made up her mind that this was someone she trusted, and more than anything else - she appreciated the patience that he and the rest of the SRN team had for her. “She was… a great Vice Admiral, soldier… Those things.” Her fingers tapped lightly against the punching bag, her tone was calm, respectful, as if she was being listened to just then. Was she? Did that matter now? “Reason that I feel… Like some tool. I… That’s, what I was - to her. All I was.”

She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Let her biggest wound open up just enough. She slowly brought a hand to her mouth, rubbing at her lip. “I wasn’t a good daughter. I was born wrong…” she stopped herself, stepping away from the bag. She felt a sting in her chest as the face of her mother came to her mind. Cold and chastising, and her eyes always looking the other way. She took a breath, a long pause as she often did - letting her words come to her without a feeling of rushing to speak. ”I’ve lived… In her shadow… All my life, Kysar. Got used to silence. To working alone... Being alone. But… I’m trying to be Solveig, again… Trying.”

Kysar grimaced. It was difficult for him to imagine what it would’ve been like to have a parent like that. What level of fucked up would he even be if that was the case?

“Impossible to be a good daughter to someone who wasn’t a good mother.” Fuck! The Turian eyes slammed shut, the thought had escaped him without a filter. “Shit, sorry, I mean that parents are people and some people fuck up. A lot.” Letting her shoulder go, Kysar kicked an imaginary rock away. “I’m sorry your mother didn’t see you for who you really were. She missed out. We do though, I mean shit, Zenn is pretty taken with you and I don’t think that would’ve happened if he didn’t see the real you.”

The Turian shrugged, smiling. “Plus, y’know, you do some of your best work in the shadows.”

It was a relief for Solveig to hear that. To feel validated, at least for something small. A small step on a long road she knew was in front of her, but a step regardless. “Thanks Kysar,” was all she said for a bit, a smile teased at the corner of her mouth when he mentioned Zenn, and she wondered if he was well. “I… appreciate it. I don’t think I’m… Really ready to talk about any more but… Maybe another day. Sink a bottle of something… Let it rip. I don’t know…”

She shrugged too, watching Kysar. “Being so quiet for so long, I’m good at listening. If you ever had something to say, to share…” She sighed again, reaching out her own arm to touch Kysar’s arm. “I’m glad you talked about Karnoc, Tamaz, Kaya, Keslia… I don’t want us to forget them, you know? Even if remembering is hard it… Means they meant something.”

Kysar nodded, although he wished there were some other way he could remember them. There was a part of him that regretted not getting to know the crew in Namibia but then again, it may have only meant their deaths would have hit him even harder. Either way, Sol was right. “I’ve got stories for days.” He chuckled. “But yeah, let's wait until we meet next over a bottle of something strong. That human vodka is probably the best thing your species has produced so far.”

“Can’t argue with that…” Solveig said, flashing a brief smile. “Let’s… Save these conversations for the bar then… And next time we’re here, get some real practice in?” She gave him a jab in the arm as she spoke, he seemed to be swimming in the memory again, she hoped it would pull him out - reaffirm she was there, in her own way.

“Punching bag is no opponent for us.” She was thankful for his time, and to him - even if she couldn’t quite express it like he’d have been able to. In her own way, she did. Her mind felt clouded with thoughts of Team 1, but she didn’t mind that they were there, she wanted to feel them. To know. To share that knowing with Kysar, he deserved to at least speak out the burden of it, didn’t he?

“I should go… Mission briefing.” With that, she began heading in the direction of the door - as she walked through it, she made sure it was completely open. “Oh and Kysar… This door is no opponent either, remember,” she added with a smirk, and then she was gone.

Kysar laughed, rubbing his throbbing arm as he considered her offer. Even her real arm still packed quite the punch but the Turian wasn’t in the business of backing down from any challenge. Following his friend out of the room, he stopped at the open entrance. Quickly, Kysar lashed out, stepping towards the door with his fist raised, only to stop an inch away. “Better watch yourself buddy, let all your door friends know you’re all on notice.” Chuckling, the Turian left the room, headed towards the briefing.

---

Solveig, clearly full of beans after beating down the punching bag, had scurried off ahead to the meeting. Kysar had been left in the dust and was almost at the board room when he remembered the email. Propping himself up against a wall, he opened his omni-tool.



Fuck, here we go again.

---

Nadara awoke with an arm draped over her and blinked a few times in confusion until the memories of her steamy romp with the doctor beside her from the previous evening (and a few more times during the early morning) returned. The escala renowned Chef D’Veo served at the party must have been stronger than she remembered, for her head, while not pounding, definitely held the distinctive buzzing associated with a fun evening.

She supposed it’d been too long since she’d been able to have an appropriate amount of fun if a few drinks were enough to cause this reaction, mild as it was. Normally, Nadara could handle her liquor among the best of them, even outlasting those much larger than herself, to her immense satisfaction. I did learn from the best after all, she thought, as a memorable night of drinking with her Krogan father came to mind. But now was not the moment to recall family, she rebuked herself as she shifted in the sheets and found herself re-enraptured by the sight of the delectable body beside her. Alas, Jonah seemed deeply asleep, her movements not causing any stir from him. Can’t say I blame him after all I put him through, she thought with a shrug before peeling herself from beneath his arm. Perhaps we can revisit this some other time. Nadara wasn’t against reliving an experience with one of her many partners, as long as everyone involved understood where they stood. Jonah seemed to understand well enough, this wasn’t a matter of the heart, but merely one of enjoyment and capturing the moment. She wouldn’t mind a snapshot from a different angle…

A nagging memory of her conversation with Kysar, of all people, crept into her mind from the night before. “A thousand years seems like a long time to spend alone. One night can only go so far.” She waved the thought away and rolled her eyes with a shake of the head. What could he possibly know of the subject. Such a short-lived species.

Putting the thought out of her mind, Nadara stretched elegantly before checking her omni-tool for any important messages. She’d sent a few feelers out after having been told of the possible position as SRN’s new Director of Hospitality and was hoping for responses, but it seemed none had yet arrived. A few snippets of current news flashed before her as well as an angry follow up from her mother—nothing of value.

Intending to take a shower before returning to the Compound where a meeting had been scheduled for later that morning, Nadara left her clothes from the previous evening where they were, but when she approached the bathroom she found a crudely scribbled note on the door.
It was locked when Nadara tried opening it. This made no sense, she remembered it being perfectly functioning when she and Jonah had arrived last night. Whatever could have happened from then until now? And how dare a facility employee enter their accommodations unannounced? I suppose I’m expected to say ‘as the Goddess wills’ but this is simply unacceptable. In a huff of annoyance, she made a mental note to file a complaint with the appropriate person. Charles would be none too pleased if honored guests were met with this disgrace.



After securing passage back to the seed vault that served as SRN headquarters and shuffling through the freezing temperatures until she reached an appropriate shower, Nadara’s list of suggestions had grown exponentially. Perhaps it’s time to track these on a document? …No, no, I can’t fathom I’d forget these atrocities.

At the very least, Nadara was pleased to find that D’Veo had prepared breakfast when she entered the mess hall, showered and clothed in fresh attire. Some things were slowly improving, it seemed.

There was enough time to finish her meal by the time the others began approaching. Most seemed to be suffering from the consequences of the previous evening, but Jonah flashed her a charming smile to which she winked in return. What followed was a slew of monotonous prattle as thrilling as a dormant star until Slim began discussing information relevant to their next mission and Nadara forced herself away from her reveries at the unexpected mention of her father on Europa.

While she’d love the opportunity to take out some Blood Pack members alongside him, there seemed to be too many cooks in the kitchen as it were, what with the Salarians and this new mercenary group also involved. Surely there was enough of them to handle whatever this ‘enthrallment device’ was. Though, if she had to bet, it would most likely be the Krogans. Besides, with the option to work beside Outcast or not, Nadara much preferred the latter.

“Of the three options listed, the only one it seems we would be little less than an afterthought in is the Europa mission. Outcast should have no problem aligning himself with one of the three groups there and securing the device. I believe our teams would be better served attending to the remaining two missions.” If Outcast failed, Nadara figured she could simply contact her father and have this device delivered to Earth.

"You have a point, Sunset." Slim thought about the first response he got.

"As capable as Outcast may seem, a warning would still be helpful to them," Charles added, "should we choose not to go to Europa."

"Sure. Anyone else?" Slim looked around the meeting room. After the holo-projector switched off, the room was dead silent. "Nothing?"

Charles sighed disappointedly. Slim remembered hearing concerns over the teams' "lack of leadership initiative". He shrugged. No one taking charge didn't concern Slim, because that's why he's here, to make the tough choices. He had been doing this for years. The big wigs want something done, the grunts do it, and he's the one figuring out how to do it.

"Alright, team two, you're going to Mars." Slim pointed to the left side of the table. "You've worked with Riley before, and you have insider knowledge on Alliance, asari and Eclipse."

"The prothean data is the most important thing." Slim reiterated, and Charles nodded in agreement. "How you sort out the standoff is up to you. And whatever Riley or anyone else pays you is yours to keep.”

"Team three, I need all of you to follow up on the assassination attempt." Slim turned to his right. "Security's been beefed up here on Svalbard, but we need you out there being...uhh, what's that word? Proactive."

Charles grinned ever so slightly, and then he nudged his head for Slim to continue.

"Right, Europa's too far and too dangerous." Slim shook his head. "We're not getting into a battle between Blood Pack, krogan clans, the salarians and some merc group. Though if anyone wants to warn Outcast, go ahead."

]”So, now I need to know how everyone wants to proceed." Slim looked around the room again. "Go ahead, this is where one of you starts talking."

Zenn sat perfectly still and silent in his chair. He was doing his best to appear like he was attentively listening to the briefing, aside from the death grips his hands had on his armrests and the much darker tint projected on his visor. He wasn't sure about the others, but this wasn't a standard meeting for him; it was excruciating torture that he had inflicted upon himself. He was processing the information, but every word out of Slim or Charles' mouth was like a knife slipping through his ear and into his brain.

"I think the situation on Mars is the most imperative. We need to show the system they can still rely on the Alliance, as well as secure any prothean data. The potential of the information inside cannot be understated."

Is what Zenn wanted to say. But as he opened his mouth to speak, his stomach began to churn and growl. While he was trying to form words, it was trying to return his breakfast. Unless he wanted to vomit in front of his friends and employer, he was going to have to abstain from voicing his opinion and focus on deep breaths to keep his morning nutrient paste down.

Thankfully, Slim seemed to come to the same conclusion he did and gave them the Mars mission, while assigning team three to follow up on the assassination info. Now they just had to decide their plan of attack. Despite the quarian still fighting what felt like a losing battle with his body, he couldn’t let the team go another round being silent. Someone had to say something, guess he’ll at least get discussion started. Zenn took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

“If we-... Want negotiations to succeed, I say we take our shuttle. Make it clear we are trying to remain a neutral party. That being said-... if we don’t trust the Eclipse to honor any deals, stowing away the blockade runner would put us in the perfect position to ambush and possibly drive them out.” It was rough, but Zenn made it through without spewing his stomach. Now he could just sit back and let the other discuss ideas or go with his plan. That is, until someone from team three followed his lead and took initiative for their team. Oh no. Please not-

“AS MUCH AS I LOVE A GOOD SHOW, LURING THE ASSASSIN IS TOO! DAMN! RISKY!” Cannonball stated. The table was too tall for them, so once again they had hopped up on their good buddy Tank as they explained their reasoning. “TOOOOO MANY BYSTANDERS WOULD BE IN DANGER! AND EVEN IF WE CATCH HIM, WHOEVER SENT HIM WILL JUST HIRE ANOTHER! I SAY WE FOLLOW THE CAAAAASH! THAT CREDIT TRAIL WILL LEAD US STRRRRAIGHT TO THE FIENDS BEHIND THIS!”

The volus was on to something, but their need to shout every word put Zenn’s endurance to the test. His head exploded with agony and he began to wonder if he made a mistake surviving the reapers. At least they would have shown more mercy than this.

“The Balloon has it right,” Viper chimed in, the drell crossing her arms, “follow the money, find the fiend. Or fiends.”

At the side of the room, team three's Doctor sat slouched in his chair, adopting a wide stance. His elbow was propped on the back of the chair and he nodded along, listening intently without really taking in any details. His mind was filtering in imagery from the night before between Slim's words. He ran his hand through his beard and let out a gentle "hmmmmm," acting as though he was pondering all the points so far.

"Yeah," Himbo eventually said - his voice far more suitable to the room than Cannonball's. "I reckon follow the money. If we go directly for the assassin without checking up on the cash, they'll just send another one." He said, basically copying the Volus. He seemed to have it right. "It's probably all about the money for them where you're concerned Charles."

"Well, you know the adage: credits make the galaxy go around." Said Charles.

"Maybe not when you hide em’ under the floorboards though man," Himbo added, followed by a cough.

"That-" Charles' nose suddenly bunched up and turned away from team three. "What is that smell-"

When the smell reached Slim a second later, he immediately pinched his nose and pushed room ventilation setting to the max.

Slim also immediately berated the most likely suspect. "Ugh, Cannonball! You got a suit leak or something?"

Viper clapped both hands over her nose and mouth, her brow wrinkled furiously. “Whoever did that, if you do it again, I will plug you with an incendiary grenade.”

Cannonball wasn't sure what everyone was talking about, but he ran a quick diagnostic on his suit just be sure. "NOT ME. MY SUIT ISN'T DETECTING ANY LEAKS OR RUPTURES!" Cannonball confired.
"Why do you have to yell?" Zenn grumbled to himself, also unaware of the stench permeating through the room.

"Sorry," Himbo admitted through a laugh. Funny as it was, he couldn't let Cannonball take the fall. "Something in them spicy sausages last night."

Perhaps the something has spooked the human. Kysar thought to himself.

"Why Mars?" The Turian turned to Slim, getting back on topic. "Europa is clearly much more important. We all are well aware of what those Reaper devices are capable of."

Amina pinched the bridge of her nose with her right index and thumb fingers, eyes closed and head downcast. Her head throbbed slow and intense. She was suffice to say rather hungover from the spirits the night before, and both the bright lighting of the room and the high frequency clamoring of the team three members was only making Amina’s headache - and irritability - worse. She was glad when Kysar steered things back on course though she felt the need to finally speak up when Kysar questioned the importance of getting involved with things on Mars.

“It is not the best idea to let the likes of Eclipse poke and claw around in the Prothean sites on Mars. There is even now no telling what else may be hidden there. Even if it is not a primary objective it should still be looked in to.”

Amina squinted against the light as she looked from Kysar to Saracino up front. She really honestly hoped she did not look as bad as she felt and probably sounded. Aside from the hangover her mind was still a swirl of deep confliction from what had happened last night with Solveig and Kysar both and she was having to really focus to keep these distracting thoughts suppressed.

"Same could be said about the Blood Pack and another device." Kysar replied before pausing for a brief moment as he looked over at Amina. She was wincing as if she was in pain. How strange.

"Plus the trail is hot right now, letting it run cold could mean we don't find out who was behind the attack on us."

Acid watched the volus yell with an amused expression before turning back to the group, casually twirling the switchblade between her fingers.

"Hate to admit it, but the firecracker here is right. Would be a stupid idea to just wait around for people to take a shot at us. I'd rather sniff around and hunt them down myself any day."

"Yeah, gotta agree with Amina here," Zenobia says, leaping over the back of a chair. "I've been with Eclipse long enough to know some of the more....'enthusiastic' members can get a little weird about Prothean tech, and if a firefight starts over this thing it could get ugly fast."
She ponders a little bit. "And showing up in an Alliance shuttle won't help on that front. Course I could probably sneak us onto an Eclipse freighter if you're all feeling brave."

Nadara frowned deeply, holding a cupped hand over her face until the ventilation cleared away the worst of it. When Jonah admitted he was the culprit, she second guessed her earlier decision to revisit their rendezvous at some future opportunity. Goddess, I can't believe such a man is capable of such repugnance.

Turning her attention back to the conversation at hand, Nadara found herself agreeing with Amina. Of course Kysar would suggest the exact opposite of what she'd stated at the first opportunity. Zenobia's offer of sneaking onto an Eclipse freighter was also interesting. "You might have to do so alone," she said to the Turian. "Less likely for discovery that way, and even if you were, I'd imagine you might still have some ties to fall back on?"

Playboy laughed along with Himbo, though he had no question about where the odor had originated from. He would've been happy to blame Cannonball however, it had been far too long since he'd pulled off a successful prank.
"I agree with the others regarding the assassination attempt, but I do think we should station one or two of our team alongside Saracino as a precaution."

Himbo shifted in his chair, nodding at Playboy's suggestion before making one of his own. "I'm up for accompanying him - if something should happen, I'm best prepared to get him back up."

Over on team two’s side, Solveig had sat quietly. Thinking over her previous conversation with Kysar, and also listening intently to Slim and Charles. When things seemed to be left to the teams to discuss, she turned her head to Zenn beside her. He didn't seem to be doing too well. Concerned, she reached under the table and gave his hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement, until the realisation of them being in a mission briefing kicked in and she quickly let go.

Solveig gave a thought to Zenobia's suggestion of the Eclipse freighter. "Objective is securing Prothean Data... Shadow and I can be equipped for stealth. Lunatic a distraction, if she... Knows how it works... Being ex-Eclipse... Team can assist with distraction and negotiation too." Solveig took a sip of her coffee. "Negotiation.. Wouldn't be my strength." She wasn't keen on sending in Zenobia alone to an Eclipse vessel. She was having trouble with an assurance of trust. "Just a thought..."

There was also Kysar, he was correct in stating the importance of seeking the device. "But Venator speaks true... Device can't be forgotten." She rubbed the side of her head, even weeks later she could easily recall the ringing and buzzing of it in her skull.

Himbo raised his hand and interjected. "Cue Ball seems set on Mars for you guys. Team three will be taking care of the assassin trail - it'd be pretty dangerous for us to go all that way to Europa. Besides, your associate is going to get a ‘hey ya’ about it, right?"

Nadara nodded at Jonah and turned to Solveig. "We can always circle back around to the Blood Pack once we secure things on Mars. I'm sure we'd all be happy to take on that action anytime."

"I... am... Concerned for Outcast's safety," Solveig said, glancing to Nadara. "He has a habit of... recklessness."

"He does seem to enjoy going... off leash so to speak. If you reach out to him, I can reach out to Kargg. It's been too long since I've spoken with Father, anyway." Nadara shrugged. "If Outcast has the Krogans to answer to he might settle a bit."

Kysar's jaw clenched as he hunched over the desk. Did they all forget what they had found at the meat plant? Or the fact that team one had a Krogan and a device took him down in one fell swoop?

"You could send an army of Krogans and it still would mean nothing in the face of this device. We have experience, expertise and first hand knowledge of what this reaper tech is capable of." A cold chill washed over the Turian, the memory of that other place still lived deep within him. "And even so, we don't fully understand the orbs. There's something... more to them. Outcast is in over his head, they all are."

Pushing back from the table, Kysar continued. "Are you really telling me both the Alliance and the Asari can't handle one group of mercs?"

"Venator..." Solveig began, turning from her seat to face the Turian. He was angry, incensed. So was she, because he was right - but so was Slim, and that pull between them was more like the twist of a blade in her side. The woman also felt uncomfortable with the eyes of the room on her as she spoke up first after Kysar.

"Sun-Sunset has connection... Useful one... We can share our info, advise... Give a higher hand... Upper ground." She was with Kysar. Whatever depths of darkness he was reminded of, so was she - and whatever the orbs had, she too had reason to want to bring one back. Not only did she know what they were capable of, she knew they were the key to Janiri and Katya's condition.

A glimpse of Katya's children came to mind and Solveig clenched her eyes closed.

She shook her head. "With Eclipse neutralized, data secured... Alliance and Asari... Will owe us a favour." She stopped, paused, and rolled her shoulder. ”I know... Venator, I know..." She quietened and looked back down at the table, mumbling into it. "Don't like it either. Hatar det här."

Shutting his eyes tight, Kysar took a deep breath in. For Sol. Exhaling through gritted teeth, he turned to Nadara. “Barriers, tell you father that’s the only thing that stops them from incapacitating you. If they find one, they must destroy it but do so at a distance. I’ll tell Outcast the same.”

Leaning back in his chair, things had become clear to the Turian. The chat with Sol had reminded him the devastating power of the enthralment devices and the danger they possessed to his team. Perhaps this path was for the best. They would be safe and he, well, all he need to do was to tell Invectus to fuck himself and he’d be thrown out past the belt. He’d go to Europa, alone, and end this thing one way or another.

Nadara watched the two, fully expecting Kysar to enter into another one of his rage fueled fits, but Solveig’s words had the surprising effect of calming him. Seemed like he was capable of mature responses after all.

She wasn’t certain what the deal was with these orbs, or… what had Slim called them? Infernal devices? Whatever they were.

In any case, at Kysar’s comment about the barrier, Nadara recalled their experience in the meat plant and the noxious black fumes that had surrounded them. Even through her barrier she felt the sinking, horrible despair that spewed from the hazy substance, creeping forth from the small black orb that had shattered until it had engulfed the room. Nadara didn’t want to think about the consequences of being exposed to it. Hadn’t given a second thought to it when it had been the grunts working for Banes that collapsed to the floor, but now that her father could potentially be subjected to the same fate, she would do what she could to prevent the worst.

Nadara nodded to Kysar. “I’ll contact him once we’ve finished here.”

Amina rested her elbows, fingers laced together in front of her face as she considered everything.

It was without doubt that looking into this assassination business was critical. And truthfully things with Banes and the Blood Pack and these Reaper orbs were also critical - probably even the gravest of concerns. But Europa was far away and as “Slim” had already clarified there were multiple forces moving in on Europa, no doubt the Blood Pack would be fortifying their positions. It was going to be one hell of a dogpile when things climaxed on Europa.

Of course things sounded no better on Mars with the Alliance and Eclipse mercenaries duking it out over the Prothean ruins. One thing kept gnawing at Amina - the archives had been there for many, many years and yet only recently by comparison had it been discovered that there was a blueprint for a Prothean super weapon stored away on Mars. The Crucible. Maybe Amina was overselling it to herself but who knew what else there was on Mars for a band of renegades to happen to dig up and get away with. And then again what if the krogan, salarians, and these other mercenaries were unable to put a stop to the Blood Pack on Europa? What if there was something even worse afoot there than what had been back in Cuba?

There were so many what-ifs and variables that it was making Amina’s head spin even more, the weary woman sitting back in her chair, dragging her palms down her face in exasperation. Even with an apparent sway in the room Amina found herself feeling no better about any of this.

"Not necessarily, I could probably swing bringing a few of you onboard with me." Zenobia suggested. "Having an asari along would really make it convincing that we're supposed to be there."

All the squabbling in the room wasn’t doing Zenn’s head any favors. And seeing as they were preoccupied with arguing over a fart instead of the actual mission details, Zenn felt he didn’t need to really pay attention. Instead he attempted to imagine himself somewhere else. Somewhere quieter, preferably darker as well. There he stayed, blissfully unaware of the discourse now brewing between his own team, until he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. The surprise of Sol’s touch pulled him right back to reality, though just as quickly as she had reached out, she pulled her hand away. Could she tell the pain he was in and was trying to comfort him? Or was she trying to get him to focus back on the briefing? He listened for a moment to the discussion going on, and concluded she was trying to get him involved. There was a lot of doubt in the direction they were going. Maybe he could rally them a bit?

“It’s not just about the data…” Zenn said, still trying to gather his thoughts and prevent his breakfast from coming back up to say “hi”. “This whole standoff has gotten media attention. A lot of eyes are watching and we know how stretched thin the Alliance is. If they fail against the Eclipse, a lot more people are going to lose faith in both the Alliance and Asari. And if no one trusts the Alliance to protect them, they'll turn to other groups…” Zenn paused. Was he trying to inspire his team or scare them? He needed to pump the brakes for a bit. Pressing a button on his Omni-tool, he removed the darkened tint from his visor and leaned forward in his seat. “But if we can ensure they succeed; remind everyone what happens when we work together, we could restore a lot of public support in both groups. Maybe even reignite the idea of working towards a united front instead of every government focusing too much on themselves."

“Zenn is right.” Amina said looking up, “Not only does Eclipse need to be stopped with what they are doing but public faith in the ‘powers that be’ needs to be maintained as much as possible. If the various factions and species all start turning on each other like animals it will be total chaos. And I do not think even we could put an end to a complete free for all amongst all of Sol’s current inhabitants. SRN can follow up on the assassination attempt and we can help sort things out on Mars. After that we can worry about Banes and the Blood Pack. Gaining favors and acquiring more influence can even help us on that front.” Amina liked to think that she sounded convincing enough parroting what the others had said over the course of this little briefing. It was important that they as a group, a cabal, stood united and understood proper prioritization.

“People actually ever had faith in the Citadel powers?” Viper asked, causally swiveling her chair side to side.

Nadara sighed and crossed her arms. There was too much back and forth. A decision needed to be made- she'd scheduled an appointment with the Mayor of Barentsburg to discuss tourism and entertainment possibilities she could advertise, and she wanted a moment to freshen up before the call.

She ignored the comment by Viper, but internally agreed with the sentiment. Especially now that her mother's sole focus was the Citadel and returning it to its former glory. Though what that glory even was remained a question.

"Both Shadow and Rogue make good points. Ensuring favors are on our side will only aid our efforts against Banes and the Blood Pack. The Asari have a vast wealth of resources that would be increasingly beneficial at our disposal, including securing a better ship for our crew to even reach Europa. In order to tap in to those assets however, we have to demonstrate our capacity as reliable allies." Given her direct involvement and increasing concern for discretion, Lidanya wouldn't have shared the information of what had transpired with Janiri, so it was unlikely Nadara's decision to support the SRN instead of High Command would have circulated among others. Her reputation among her sisters was still intact.

"Fine," Kysar replied. His mood had flipped, he sounded calm, perhaps a little too much so. "Mars it is. Zenobia's idea wasn't a bad one. I don't think turning up with either the Alliance or Asari Command is a good look for us. So should yo-" The Turian coughed, clearing his throat. "Should we split up? Some of us smuggle our way behind enemy lines? Zenn flies the rest in the front door?"

Nadara narrowed her eyes at Kysar's slip. Just what is he planning in that thick skull?

"We should take the majority on our own shuttle. Best not to outright demonstrate allegiance to either party at the start to aid negotiations. Zenobia says she can take a few with her, but I think that would be a few too many. Eclipse won't know this, but our aim is to align with Asari and Alliance forces, so it might be best for them not to know of our presence onboard. Better to stay undetected for an ambush should we require it."

“There is one thing to consider,” Amina said carefully, raising a hand, “what if the Alliance disables or brings down the Eclipse ship with our people aboard during approach?”

"We can advise them that would not be conducive to our negotiation efforts. Or if we so choose, let them know our plans outright." Nadara replied.

“And if our teammates are, say, found aboard the Eclipse blockade runner and taken prisoner further complicating a mission before it even begins?” Amina asked.

Nadara motioned to Zenobia. "This is why I recommend only Lunatic sneak onboard. Less likely to be detected and if discovered, she has the necessary ties to prevent imprisonment. Alternatively, we can play both sides. Send her with their knowledge as an emissary."

“I say we all use our shuttle.” Amina said flat and stubbornly, sitting back again arms crossed.

"I can remain undetected on Eclipse ship." Said Solveig quietly, taking a sip of her coffee which was getting colder every moment that passed. "Sneak through archives.... Get data, get out. This is... I have done this before, similar missions. Not the same... But-" she stopped midway and just sighed, not used to speaking her suggestions out loud.

Zenobia rubs the back of her neck in frustration. "I get it, but I'd still like to take a shot at talking these guys down before we go in blasting. Sure the group has a few fruitcakes, you're lookin' at one of them, but at the end of the day these guys are just in it for the money. Lot of them are not going to want to get into a firefight if you push them just the right way."

Nadara looked to Solveig first. "I believe you could, Wraith. But your Alliance. If anything happened and they did discover you... It would just make matters more complicated." She then turned to Zenobia, concerned by how she was including herself in the Eclipse's numbers. The Turian had claimed to have departed from the group long before, and yet here she was, defending them. "Our goal is to take the diplomatic route, Lunatic. But your group doesn't seem to take kindly to that too often."

Zenobia prickled a little bit at that. Mostly because she knows the asari is right. "And how many times have you tried?" Zenobia shoots back accusingly.

Amina smiled slightly, eyes straight ahead at no one in particular.

Nadara took note at Zenobia's lack of concern at being lumped with the Eclipse, and refused to enter into a silly spat that would lead nowhere. The organization had literally just attempted to murder her mother, not to mention herself, Amina, and Zenobia. Aside from their recent experience there was more than enough reason not to trust the band of fruitcakes to remain diplomatic and yet, that was still their first priority with the mission.

"Perhaps Lunatic shouldn't sneak onto the shuttle after all." Nadara said in a low tone, also leaning back into her chair.

“Perhaps no one should and we just use our own shuttle.” Amina said dryly.

"Alright, but I'm driving!" Zenn quickly announced. He didn't feel like he needed to explain himself further.

“Brilliant, the quarian has the priorities down.” Viper said, still swiveling boredly.

"Yikes, do you think they argue this way about every mission?" Playboy murmured to Himbo at his side.

Momentarily narrowing her eyes at Amina, Nadara refused to give in. "I say we do this the right way. We should charter a shuttle. Show a united front, that we are a third party intervening on behalf of the SRN and not our own individual alliances. Besides, I doubt our scrap could make it in one piece." As an afterthought, she looked to Zenn and quickly added, "Even with an exceptional pilot."

"Have you seen the prices they're charging? Even if we all split the bill it's going to cost us a sizeable amount. And I need all credits for... Something else." Zenn said, his eyes slowly drifted to Sol before he turned back to Nadara.

The smell. The fan blowing at them, and the bickering between Nadara and Zenobia. This entire setting was becoming a sensory nightmare for Solveig. A sudden stabbing sensation at her temples was the real alert to her that this was not productive.

She saw Kysar sitting perfectly still and disengaged. His eyes were glazed over. Like he wasn't entirely present. Uncharacteristic, whats going on there? she thought to herself. It wasn't like him to not have something to say.

Furrowing her brows, Solveig spoke up. "Mission depends on our teamwork. Not going to Europa, so we must make that choice worth it by winning this." Her arm twitched and she brought it back down to the table, reaching for her coffee mug. Her throat was drying out with the nerves of public speaking, and she scowled unintentionally with the sting of her evolving headache. "Now agreeing with Rogue. We should go together." Solveig questioned sending Zenobia in with the Eclipse. The heat of that would cause friction with Nadara and could even be dangerous. "Stick together. Work together. We need to be a team. Not just a show." As she spoke, she was unaware of how hard she was squeezing the coffee mug, and her eyes caught Kysar again. Something wasn't right with him. Was he that hurt by the decision? She shook the thought away. "We can... We can figure this out. We figured out Havana. Just let's talk it through."

"Fine, together then." Nadara sighed. It wasn't a terrible suggestion. Nadara thought it a waste not to send someone aboard the Eclipse vessel should things go south, but the team had demonstrated they were capable of handling things well enough if they did indeed run into trouble. "But I still think we should charter a shuttle." Even Slim recognized Mars as being beyond their current shuttle's range. Nadara turned to Charles and straightened. "Seeing as we are doing this mission on behalf of the SRN, I'd like to formally request financial assistance with the charter." The price wasn't troubling, but the others seemed concerned enough that Nadara figured it was worth a shot to barter with the President whom they would inevitably be representing.

Kysar's eyes were empty, glazed over as he stared ahead. He knew Invectus did not make idol threats, if he told the "Primarch" to get fucked, the MP's would come knocking only moments later.

But how to play it? The team would come running if they saw Turian soldiers hauling him off. Kysar would have to sneak off, pretend to go pack for the mission and slip out of the base unnoticed. Difficult but not impossible. He could commandeer Slim's mobile, afterall, it's not like he wouldn't get it back. Then, once at a safe distance, he'd send the email along with his co-ordinates and then they'd take him out past the belt.

In the corner of his eye, Kysar noticed movement, Sol had flashed him a look, one of concern. His back straightened as he cleared his throat. Fuck, say something you fool.

"Yes, together." He tagged on, catching the last few bits of what Nadara had said. "There's no room in the budget for a pilot? Why are we lumped with paying someone?"

Not perfect but it will do for now. The Turian's eyes wandered across to Sol. Something tugged at his heart as if someone had lassoed it. I don't know if she'll forgive me for this. Looking around the room at the rest of his team, he sighed. I don't know if any of them will. But what choice do I have? This is the end of the road for me. Better to die standing on my feet as a free man, rather than on my knees as a slave.

A sigh escaped from Zenn’s mouth as he shook his head. While they had at least agreed on going together, they were now arguing about their method and cost of transportation. Normally he wouldn’t mind this banter. It was important that they go over every detail. Explore all their options before coming to a decision even if it was one some didn’t like. But did they have to do it in front of team “go with the first choice” three? It was making team two look dysfunctional.

As he waited for Charles or Slim to respond to Nadara’s request or answer Kysar’s question, Zenn glanced around the room before his gaze unsurprisingly gravitated towards Sol. The expression on her face made it clear that this was really getting to her too, only she didn’t have a mask to hide behind like he did. He wanted to try and comfort her, but he really wasn’t sure what would be considered appropriate in a professional setting like this. That’s when his eyes drifted to her hand. She was holding that mug so tight it was like she wanted to strangle it. If she squeezed any harder it was going to shatter, and he highly doubted she’d get a free room for it this time. Cautiously, he reached out his hand and placed it on top of her’s. Then softly pressed on it to direct her to set the mug down, just for now.

“Let’s try not to break any more cups for a while.” Zenn spoke in a gentle whisper while trying to keep a positive tone. He didn’t want to agitate Sol more by coming off as bossy, or accidentally draw attention from others in the room.

Solveig hadn't even realised the grip she'd had on her coffee until Zenn reminded her. Her eyes widened with a humoured and awkward flash of panic as she quickly placed the thing back down. "*Hoppsan*," she said quietly, sinking into her chair

"You saved an innocent mug today, Shadow..." She whispered back, low and secretive. After a quick smile, she was focused again on the meeting. Kysar was at least speaking, but still... Whatever it was, they had to plan the mission right now.

"SRN pilot is too expensive, Shadow is an excellent pilot - he'll get us there... If we can negotiate price, better still. But..." Solveig paused for a moment, as she often did. They'd spoken a lot about the traveling method, but couldn't afford to keep circling it. "Let's not be lost here for now. What are we doing when we get there?"

"Four thousand credits is ExSolar Shipping's quote, SRN's interplanetary transportation partner." Charles responded to Solveig's suggestion. "They charge a premium for last-minute pilot requests, and not to mention, insurance fee for high-risk destinations."

"However, if anyone is willing to offer incentives for ExSolar Shipping to lower their quote," Charles offered, "I can forward it to them immediately."

"Could try that N7 endorsement again." Suggested Slim.

Then he remembered the holo-vid he uploaded. Sure enough, there's already fifty thousand plus views on YouDupe and almost seventy thousand views on FlipFlop. There's also over one hundred comments on each of them. Not all of them were kind, but the hype around quarian/drell karaoke duet was real.

"Or, you two can sing for them." Slim pointed to Zenn and Playboy.

“Presumably we will be meeting up with the Alliance forces or their commander rather and figuring out how to oust Eclipse.” Amina stated. She had noticed the hesitation, the suspicious disconnect, of Kysar but kept her mind on the most important matter at hand.

While team two continued to assess every detail of their mission ahead, Himbo nodded to Playboy at his side and leaned forward in his seat to face the rest of team three, his voice quiet enough to not disturb the flow of conversation across the room. "Any objections to it? Me and Playboy here hit up Iceland and keep eyes on Charles, the rest of you chase down that cash trail?"

"Switzerland–" Charles corrected, but he was immediately cut off by the enthusiastic volus.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU, GOOD BUDDY?” Cannonball asked, reaching down and patting Tank’s back. “YOU’VE BEEN AWFULLY QUIET THIS WHOLE TIME! LET THE PEOPLE KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS!”

“Maybe you should take a page out of his book and lower the volume.” Zenn called across the table. “And did you ever think it’s because you’re standing on him and he doesn’t want to do anything that might make you fall?”

“IS THAT TRUE?” Cannonball leaned over the front of Tank to try and look at their elcor pal’s face. “HAVE I BEEN IMPEDING YOUR ABILITY TO SPEAK THIS WHOLE TIME?”

“I don’t think he’ll answer you.” Zenn said dryly.

“WHY? TANK KNOWS HE CAN TELL ME ANYTHING!” Cannonball replied and crossed his arms indignantly

“Because you’re still standing on him, ax’kah!” Zenn almost shouted and tossed his arms in the air.

“OH, RIGHT!” Cannonball said and quickly hopped to the side off of Tank’s back. Zenn simply brought his hands to his mask and covered his face. This volus was going to be the death of him.

Tank, expressionless as usual, had been enamoured with Himbo. The Elcor had no idea that Humans too could release their own pheromones. Unlike his, they were most certainly detectable by the other species. Given the reaction of the two teams, Tank made a mental to note to ask the Himbo if he was ok after the meeting. Such a release among Elcor would mean that they were quite distressed and needed consoling.

With Cannonball of his back Tank began his long and informative speech. "Supportive Enthusiasm; Cannonball... it is always... a pleasure... to help... a friend..."

Slowly, the Elcor shifted, turning from his shorter compatriot to the rest of the group. "Warm Welcome; Secondly... I would like to... thank everyone for... inviting me to the... meeting... it is so... good... to see all... my friends... again."

Gently rotating once more, Tank now faced Charles and Slim. "Fierce Determination; Regent... I have... been appointed... the Elcor... delegate... for the... memorial... stay... by my... side... and I... will keep you... safe..."

"Excellent." Charles acknowledged. "Glad to have along, Tank."

"Whew!" Himbo exclaimed from his seat, looking at Zenn. "Now I don't know what that word means, but I can tell it wasn't good. Little fella here just has the passion!" He beamed at Cannonball.

"Anyway," his eyes traced round to Tank. "Good to have you on board with us big fella! I'm sure you can figure out the rest between yourselves, I uhh," the man stood up, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a worn, dog-eared looking book and his glasses. As he put them on and adjusted, he looked down at Playboy and raised a brow, lowering his voice. "I need about twenty. Don't bother waiting around if you wrap up yeah?"

Himbo then made his way towards the door marked "Bathroom".

“So,” Viper asked leaning forward, “team two is off to Mars to break up a turf war while we split up between chasing a money trail and acting as bodyguards?”

Amina started to say something but stopped. She really was not even sure what was about to fall out of her mouth. All she knew was that she was feeling angsty and not just about getting the show on the road as they say. What exactly would happen to SRN if Saracino was killed? Who would replace him? Had the man even thought that far ahead. Probably not Amina sensed. Maybe Saracino should go into hiding until this was figured out? Amina felt the urge to suggest it but again but her tongue.

Playboy leaned forward, ensuring the extra effort to flex his arms as he did so. “Sounds about right though, doesn’t it?” He asked with a wink at Viper.

“Yes, indeed,” Viper nodded with a smile at Playboy, “I already have an idea on how to lure out the assassin. Just drop one of those human wigs on your dome and make everyone think you are Saracino. The assassin would not be able to resist shooting.”

Playboy froze for a moment, unsure how to turn the situation back in his favor, but quickly found his footing. With a conspiratorial smile, he leaned forward further and lowered his voice. “You’re right, I’d be able to pull even that look off and our killer would shoot his shot. Perhaps I could even lure him to some dark corner? Anything for the success of our team.” Viper narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

Seeing both teams more or less reaching a consensus, Slim cleared his throat and announced. "That's it. Team two, take the shuttle to Mars. Yours or ExSolar's; doesn't matter."

"Cannonball, Viper and Acid, you're with me to Istanbul." Slim continued. He gestured toward team theee, with a disapproving gesture toward Himbo's empty seat. "Tank, Playboy and the doctor with bad guts are going with Regent to Geneva."

"Yes, an adequate plan." Charles gave his approval. He noticed Amina holding back words. "Do you have something to add, Rogue? Your input is critical as team 2's lea-"

"As team 2's grenadier." Slim interrupted. "Of course, Sunset's the team lead on this one."

Charles' opened his mouth to protest, but closed it silently and shook his head. Slim was unfazed; he wouldn't be here if Charles wanted to micromanage.

"Go ahead, Rogue." Slim prompted.

“Wh-“ Amina had started to say something else entirely, but now found herself flabbergasted at Slim so nonchalantly appointing Nadara as the leader of their team. An asari dolt like her leading a sensitive operation on Mars? A literally battle between mercenaries and Alliance forces. Is he mad? Amina sat up straight in her seat, mind swirling as she tried to give a coherent response. By now she was over this whole little meeting and all the indecisiveness and prattling was making her even more irritable.

“I… just,” Amina rubbed at her temples, “I think it makes more sense to have Solveig lead us on Mars.”

“An N7, Alliance reputation, and we are going into a hotbed involving Alliance forces. Why not her? Why N-… Sunset?”

Nadara narrowed her eyes at Amina, but quickly dispelled the appearance of irritation from her features and smiled toward Slim with a small nod before addressing her teammate.

“The mission on Mars is a joint effort between Alliance and Asari forces,” she emphasized. “Much like Wraith”, she cleared her throat innocently but knew Amina would catch the subtle correction, “I too have a background with Asari military. For many years, in fact.

As team lead on this mission, I will value any input she may have in the matter. This goes for the rest of you as well, of course.” Nadara looked to the others in turn as she said this. “By bringing forth the best of our individual skills, the culmination of our joint experience will aid our success as we demonstrate a united front.” That should be enough to show she had things under control. Paying attention to a few of the briefings while she’d served Asari High Command turned out to be beneficial after all. There were still a few choice sentences she could pull from her back pocket.

In truth, she cared little for leadership titles on missions, but Amina’s reaction coupled with Nadara’s desire to be seen as a viable candidate for the Hospitality Director position, gave her the drive she needed to take this chance by the horns.
Leadership of the highest caliber would need to be demonstrated. And to be honest, based off what she’d seen thus far, it wouldn’t be too difficult to pull off.

“While I have the floor, if I may,” she continued without waiting. “ExSolar’s premium for a pilot may not be at all necessary. I believe Shadow should be able to handle the shuttle.” Nadara looked to the Quarian. “Unless you have any reservations? This might significantly reduce the initial quote, and would prevent you from entering any… entertainment contracts.” Her eyes slid over to Playboy momentarily but she prevented the accompanying eye roll before focusing on Zenn once more. “Though I suppose, this may be something you’re interested in.”

Even if all the thoughts in the world had been crammed into Kysar’s head, they still couldn’t have distracted him from Slim’s announcement. Has she even led a team before? Ran any sort of op? He sighed heavily, such foolishness gave him a bad gut feeling. Shifting his eyes away from Nadara, Kysar turned to the bald human. The Turian had read his dossier of which there wasn’t much in the way of live fire experience. Explains his decision. The blind leading the blind.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Slim, piping up during a team meeting is slightly different from leading a team in the field.” Sarcasm dripped from the man’s mouth.

“That is certainly the truth.” Amina added abrasively. “I have nothing against Sunset and have no doubt of her abilities in battle but leadership is another thing entirely. What even spurred deciding on her as the choice pick?”

Amina knew that she sounded to be on a tirade and frankly she did not care. Amina was comfortable enough with Nadara enough to fight next to her in battle, but she could not trust her to lead something of this magnum and import.

"Rogue makes a reasonable argument." Charles commented.

"Ugh, Sunset's in charge on Mars while I'm leading team three in the field. You know; in Istanbul." Slim exhaled. "And you heard the reasons from her, Rogue."

"Look, unless team two agrees on someone else, Sunset will be heading the mission on Mars." Slim exasperated. "We can talk about...leadership when the mission's done, okay?"

“It just so happens that the elaborated reasons Nadara gave are your reasons too, yes?” Viper smirked, resting her chin on one closed hand.

Zenn felt his face start to burn and turn red as Slim mentioned his and Playboy’s performance. Playboy seemed very enthusiastic at the idea, and if it paid for their shuttle it would prove to be beneficial. But without any sort of liquor in him, Zenn wasn’t exactly keen on taking up the mic again.

“Unless we have no other options I’d rather pass. As I’ve said, I can fly us there for free. Plus I don’t really want vids of my singing floating around the net, even if I’m sober in them. I’m just glad no one recorded me last night.” Zenn said. His voice started to get quieter as he was mostly talking to himself at that point. “Keelah, that was embarrassing.” Even if everyone had enjoyed his vocal performance, Zenn felt like he had made a bit of a fool of himself. Still. Even if he could, he wouldn’t change the events of that night.
Moving forward in the meeting, just when it felt like a final conclusion had been made, a new topic was brought up: Leadership. Seemed it wasn’t just team two that was having some disagreements. Even as Slim gave the position to Nadara, Charles appeared to be making remarks about how Amina should take charge; and she didn’t disagree. Personally, Zenn didn’t like the idea of any of them being leader. Yes they needed direction, but they worked best with everyone as equals figuring things out together. Give one of them full control, and the dynamic could fall apart. If they weren’t fighting against the ticking time bomb in the bathroom, Zenn might have argued or debated more, but instead he chose the route that would get them out the fastest.

“I’ll second Sunset as team lead on this.” Zenn spoke up. “I may not have been there, but she has already led one successful operation. Not to mention having the daughter of matriarch Lidanya leading this could help calm things on the Citadel, at least for the time being.”

"Yes." Slim didn't bother to look at Viper; he only pointed toward the door. "Go get your gear. Wheels up for Istanbul in two hours."

"And yes, thank you, Shadow." Slim did bother to look at other person sensible enough to steer the meeting away from another argument. "Everyone else go get ready too. You need time for preflight check, and Regent's leaving for Switzerland..."

"In three hours." Charles appeared to have dropped the team leader issue, at least for now. "We'll be at Geneva this evening and the memorial will take place tomorrow morning."

As the rest of the conversations swirled around, Solveig simply sat quietly in her seat. She leaned forward, placing an elbow on each knee and interlaced her fingers, circling her thumbs around each other. A subtle way to keep her coordination in check. Nice that Rogue had thought to suggest her as lead, she thought, even if the idea of that made her quietly shudder inside. No thanks, she thought. "Agree with Shadow. Happy to follow Sunset."

Then, there were those words that kept getting tossed around. Geneva. Memorial. Solveig didn't want to go, but... that pain in her chest all of a sudden. Maybe she did, actually.

There had not been a funeral. It had all happened quickly. Couldn't she be allowed... No. Riley needs you on Mars. The team needs you on Mars. Your job is on Mars. She closed her eyes and sighed quietly, it seemed everyone was getting ready to leave and head out. There was no need for further conversational contribution from her.

As the room sat quiet, the sound of a toilet flushing could be heard three times.

Kysar shrugged as his head cocked quickly to the side and back. Whatever. Though he appeared nonchalant, the twisted knot in his stomach failed to fade away, even as he stood.

Making his way towards the door, Sol caught the corner of his eye. Noticing her sigh, the knot inside tightened. I get it, Nad being in charge is difficult to take in. He joked, trying to move on. His feet, however, did not agree, refusing to march on beyond his friend. The talk of the memorial couldn't have been easy, not to mention the fact that the team would be off world for it.

Saddling up beside Sol, Kysar placed a hand on her shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words. I'm sorry Sol, goodbye my friend. Regaining control of his feet, the Turian hurried off before she could even turn around.

Tank, on the other hand, was absolutely delighted with how the meeting had gone. The expression from Charles to be happy for the Elcor to be his personal bodyguard was one he couldn't wait to tell the rest of the delegation about. They would be proud.

He was equally happy just to be in the same room as everyone again and couldn't wait for the next meeting. The only slight concern Tank felt was the fact that they only had three hours to get ready. He'd do his best to be quick about everything so he'd make that deadline.

Nadara ignored the discontentment from Amina and Kysar. They would fall in line.

As they walked out of the meeting room, she held out her hand for the other to wait a moment. “Wraith, contact Exsolar and see about haggling a lower price.” As an afterthought she quickly added, “Please.”

While Sol readied herself to make the call, Nadara nodded to the others and it was then she noticed Kysar continued to exhibit strange reactions. It wasn’t like him to be as non-combative and quiet as he was being. Her eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on Sol’s shoulder before stepping away.

Oh no, he doesn’t, she thought, following after him. Nadara would allow none of her team to cause problems, and the Turian screamed problem.

"Istanbul? Sounds exotic." Acid agrees. Maybe if she's lucky the alliance dogs would be too busy trying to tie Cannonball down to get in her hair, as the human saying went.

Zenobia, unlike the Quarian who didn't really give a shit about the mission, was still stewing a bit over the debacle with the shuttle to care about who led the team. Back to being the dumb muscle only good for crashing into things, she thought bitterly. And it was a damn good plan too; she knew these guys after all. It wasn't like Cerberus or even the Blood Pack krograns who just liked to fight or didn't care about throwing their lives away for some grand cause. They were just in it for the money, and given an easy out would be all too happy to take it. Sure she had no compunctions about taking the shot when push came to shove and it was one or the other but still...damn it, she worked with these people. If anyone could talk to them and get them to stand down, it'd be her.

And hell, if they're making HER sound like the voice of reason here, someone seriously fucked up.

"I'm fine with you taking point, if need be," Zenobia said as she got to her feet, though it was clear her heart wasn't in it. "Just don't be an idiot and do what I'd do...”

As people began departing, so too did Himbo from the bathroom following a fourth flush, and the sound of the faucet running, and finally, a pumped spray.

"I'd give that a bit. Hoo boy," he said as he walked back over to his team. "Ready to scoot then?" He asked, giving two thumbs up to the group.

On the other side of the room, Solveig sneered at him. She had a call to make, anyway.

---

“I think it goes without saying that… it would mean everything to me if you could help me with this, Mister Saracino.”

Amina and Charles Saracino walked side by side down a hallway, just down the way from where the meeting had been. After everyone else had dispersed to gear up and handle any last minute affairs Amina had stayed back, getting Charles’ attention with a hand on his shoulder and asking him to walk and talk with her. It felt a bit strange in truth, Amina really did not know Saracino and while certainly far from being a shy sort she found herself a bit stuttery and hesitant on her words here and there. Nevertheless, she had finally delivered her request to Charles - that favor she had been meaning to ask him.

“I would owe you much,” Amina stopped and turned on her heels to face the SRN President, “honestly; everything.”

Charles crossed his arms, eyes downcast as he turned to face Amina. She felt a nervous tingling running up her spine, her breath was coming slightly quicker but not noticeably so. She held her own arms firm against her sides as she looked Saracino in the face searching for some preemptive suggestion to his coming response. He looked up, Amina’s throat tightening as he did, he smiled and met her eyes saying, “I will do everything I can.”

Amina resisted the urge to exhale loudly. No sense in doing something as rude as suggesting with her body language that she did not expect him to actually help her. Amina swallowed, the nervous feeling now a sudden surging of anticipation and eagerness. SRN had the personnel, resources, and money to do what she could not. Impulsively Amina stuck her right hand out, Saracino clasped hold of it and the two shared a firm handshake.

“Thank you, sir.” Amina said as levelly as she could.

Saracino nodded, “I will have to wait until after the memorial but I give you my word that I will have people looking into the possible whereabouts of your family.”

That was it, what she needed - Charles’ word that he would help Amina in finding her parents and brother. Amina felt her chest swell slightly and a surge of anticipation roll through her gut at the prospect of getting to see her family again, and hopefully very soon. Of course Amina knew it would take some time, maybe weeks or even months. Not to mention the channels necessary and any leads to be dug up and followed. But right now this was enough to give the woman hope. She had given Charles her families’ names and last known locations and anything else she could remember, now the ball was in his court, as they say. All she could do now was wait and what better way to pass the time than with missions?

“Thank you.” Amina said a second time before gingerly pulling her hand away from Saracino’s, he gave her a knowing nod still holding his smile. “You should go prepare yourself for departure.” Saracino said to which Amina nodded, stopping herself from saluting, and briskly started to walk away. She was about ten feet away from Charles when she stopped in her tracks, there was something else on her mind she wanted to ask Charles - something from the meeting. Amina sighed internally and urged herself forward deciding it was nothing worth discussing now though the thought still lingered. Why did he let the other team leader just appoint Nadara as our team leader? Since when does this man have more push and authority than the president of the organization? What was also eating at Amina was how Charles had started to address her - “Leader” he nearly said before “Slim” decided to assert himself over Charles and name Nadara head of their team. He almost picked me and then and Slim decided Nadara the better candidate? Why her? Why not Solveig? Why not Kysar even? Nadara could screw this whole thing up. Her mother may be asari military but I see no essence of a tactician within that green tentacled head. And what about me? I have commanded a unit before, not just three people in a search and rescue.

Amina felt that familiar welcome flush of heat across her face and in the pit of her chest that generally came when she was brooding her outright angry. She decided it best to drop it for now, clear it from her mind rather, and just focus on getting things done on Mars. How much of this is just jealousy that you were nudged aside at the last minute? Or an innate inability to take orders given by aliens. Amina gritted her teeth and grudgingly acknowledged both of those things as possibilities. She would so as expected then and follow Nadara’s lead on Mars. But she had every intention later on of bringing Nadara’s pick for team leader to full question if this operation was a flop.

_{with @Awesomoman64}

---

After the mission briefing…

---

Well that was humiliating, Solveig thought as she headed on her way back to the dorms from the communications office, having just got off a call to the ExSolar company. Another endorsement would have to be done. A photo of her in costume was required for their advertising. She sent Sunset a brief message to update her.

Making her way to her bunk, she stopped by her locker first, unlocking it to reach inside for something familiar; her pills. She shook the small container and heard the pathetic rattle of only a few left. Not good… She bit her lip, and decided to take two anyway. The dorms remained empty, but she still wanted something a bit quieter. More isolated.

After a while of searching she found herself in the engineering wing, near some generators that were humming, hissing, and ticking away. The heartbeat of the SRN headquarters. The ambient noise and warmth was pleasant, she thought, and so she took a seat on the stairwell taking out her datapad. Some messages.

There was a message from her father. He was going to be in Geneva. That pain in her chest elevated again and she brought a hand there, rubbing at it. All that it seemed to do was spread the sting. She missed him. She reminded herself of her place within the Alliance. She wasn’t an N7 anymore, but… Not invited to a memorial for my own Mother…

Just as Slim said, Riley’s message was there - she gave it a quick scan and nodded, filing it away with a sigh, making a mental note of several details to inform the group of later. Something else too, a reminder, that she’d save to spend her attention on later when she had the time to accept the headache that would come with it.

She squeezed her eyes close briefly before opening the SRN news. Immediately she recognised the name Konesh. Isn’t that…? she thought, raising a brow. How would Zenn feel about it? She wondered. Sol expected he would find it hard to swallow. She hoped he was okay.

“Come here often?” Zenn’s voice broke through the ambient sounds of the generators. The quarian stood at the bottom of the stairs leaning against the railing with his arms folded. “Kinda reminds me of being on a ship. Back on the migrant fleet, you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing the engines hum.” He was obviously trying to act nonchalant, but his awkward fidgeting dispelled any illusion he was attempting to create.

“I uh, just dropped Ranger off at the… What do you call it? Animal daycare? Anyway, I was coming back from that when I saw you slip in here. Figured I’d come in. Say hi… So um… Hi.”

It was almost like thinking of him, summoned him. Solveig looked up from her screen to see him at the foot of the stairwell. He’s quieter than me… she thought briefly, amused that he’d escaped her detection. “Shado–...Zenn,” she said, “need something?” She paused and assessed his relaxed pose, and noted his fidgeting with a curious eye and quirked brow. “I mean… Hallå.” She awkwardly lifted the hand that had been resting on her knee to wave softly at him.

“Uhh… Did you sleep well? And feeling well?” she asked, placing her hand back on her knee, then on the step beside her, then back on her knee, then back on the step. Just put it somewhere. She placed it back in her lap.

“Oh yeah. I slept great… For the most part… Guess I was pretty tired. And got a bit carried away with the drinks…I got your note.” Zenn said and patted one of his pockets close to his chest, but continued to fidget and look everywhere in the room except at Sol. There was something he wanted to ask about, but he was having trouble finding the words to do it without making everything weird. Last thing he wanted was to make things awkward between them, especially before a mission, but sitting in silence like this wasn’t helping much either. He finally decided to just start talking and hope for the best.

“So, funny thing. I went to check out at the front desk and they told me how you had been given that room. But… They um… They never saw anyone go in or out… And when I woke up it was just me… In the only bed… With this note… I guess what I’m asking is, what happened after I passed out?” After he posed the question, his wandering eyes finally settled down to look at Sol as he waited for her answer.

Sol's eyes widened as Zenn recounted his version of events, and she began to understand that he thought that–. He kept that note… It was on a napkin. Her thought was interrupted. "Well," she began quietly, and just like in the meeting earlier her fingers interlaced and she circled her thumbs again. "We talked… a lot, last night… A lot, for me." Her brows furrowed as she worked through the murk of her own memory.

"I thought that riding back to base would… Be bad so… Kysar stayed with you. I returned here." She rolled her shoulder again and winced. "Very packed ride… Uncomfortable and loud, but. That's about it. I…" she paused, and looked up at him too. "Does this help?"

“So it was me and Kysar in the room? Whew!” Zenn let out a sigh of relief as his whole body relaxed and his fidgeting ceased. “I’ve been worried all morning that we had shared it…” A brief moment passed before Zenn realized what he had just said and immediately went right back to nervous panic. “Uh Not that I wouldn’t have liked that! I just… I want to take things slow. The last thing I’d want is to risk ruining our chances by rushing things again.”

“Oh…” Sol's face felt hot as she listened to Zenn talking. She smiled slightly, looking down again. "Slow works... I actually…. Well, thought maybe… You forgot, that uhh, question. That we sort of decided to-" She stopped herself and looked up again. "Sorry. You make me… nervous." The words came out without her really thinking about them, but having said them, she felt more relief for it.

Zenn’s arms slipped from each other and hung limply at his side as he stood bewildered at what he heard. “Me? Make you nervous? I think you’re forgetting who could bench press who with one arm. And I’m not talking about your mechanical one either. I should be the only one who’s nervous when we talk.” Zenn turned his head away, hiding his face despite it already being heavily obscured, and slowly lifted his arm to grab the other. “Which…I definitely am. Do you know how many people I had to get advice from before I had the courage to talk to you? More than I’d like to admit.”

That was a surprise to her. That Zenn had to seek advice on this? She wanted to know just who and what exactly he had asked, and then recalled an odd conversation with Kysar… Her eyes widened. "I… See," she began quietly. That explained a lot…

Pushing the thought from her mind, Sol decided to just be frank - as best as she could, anyway. "Nervous because… Any kind of talking… To anyone puts a knot in the chest. Also… Well, I like you, actually." He had said it too - in a much longer, Zenn-like way of course, but he had. She gave a soft sigh and got up from the stairs, making her way down them to get to him. There he was again, she noticed, putting himself down. That had been what started him off the night before too. To talking about his team, of Rannoch…

"I wish you can see how I– and how the team sees you, Zenn. I see so much…" She gave him a playful nudge. "That I like… Enough that… Getting to know you more will be nice." It was easier to talk to him like this. Alone. In a safe place.

"Heh. Yeah. Right back at ya." Zenn sheepishly replied. She really did see a lot in him, didn't she? Things even he couldn't. The more he spent time with her, the more he really felt confident in this actually being something real. Of course, he had to remind himself not to make such conclusions until after their first date. Which reminded him.

"Speaking of… Any dietary restrictions? I'll need to know before I book any of the places here. Assuming our schedule is even flexible enough to make a reservation anywhere." He said with a light chuckle at the end.

Sol’s head tilted to the side. "Vegetarian," she answered quickly, trying to catch his eyes with her own - a softened gaze. She could still sense something in him that was almost shy. In the background, she could hear the rhythmic hissing of the generators and she'd passively picked up their timings too. All this talk of a date, even though she was trying to help Zenn, and even though it felt good to do so… There was still an anxious gnawing in her stomach, something that didn't entirely quieten down.

"Anywhere is fine, Zenn…" She added after a pause, bracing herself. "But not a party or a meeting… I can…" she reached for his hand and took it into her own. "Do this."

“Perfect. Vegetarian it… Is…” Zenn found his words get stuck in his throat as Sol tilted her head to meet his eyes. He didn’t think he could blush more, until she took his hand and reaffirmed that she wanted to do this. His entire face burned red behind his helmet. “Yeah. Same. I… I really don’t like parties. Last night was an exception…”

As he held Sol’s hand and looked into her eyes, a small part of him wondered if this moment could last forever. Forget everything else, just focus on the two of them and see where things go. But a louder more prominent part cut in and reminded him that they had a responsibility to help SRN, to help the system. There were a lot of problems that needed attention and if he blew them off for his own selfish desires… Well. He had been down that road before.

“We should…Probably finish preparing.” Zenn said, once again turning away to break eye contact, but leaving his hand in hers. “It’s a long flight to Mars. I just hope the pilot we get knows what they’re doing. I’d rather not be tossed around the ship again.” He snickered and turned his head back slightly to see Sol’s reaction to his joke.

That caused Sol to chuckle ever so slightly. “You still flew it better than Kysar or myself…” she teased, “even with a concussion… Piloting, not our strong suit… Two wheels on the ground though…” Would Zenn like motorbikes? the image piqued her curiosity, and brought upon a slight smirk before she was swiftly pulled out of that thought when she focussed on Zenn again. There was another brief moment of him disappearing back into himself. She gave his hand a slight squeeze of encouragement to draw him back to the stairs for a moment - as if to tell him to slow down - that they didn’t have to leave just yet.

As Sol sat back down, she heard the expected hiss of one of the generators as if it were like clockwork. “Zenn, wait…” she said. “I…” she paused, unsure of how to approach the subject, or even what to do when she got to it. Just like piloting, sensitive conversations weren’t comfortable for her. She took in a steady breath and decided once again, that being upfront was the best way. “The news today… I saw the name Konesh – I… Worried about you when I saw it. Wanted to… I mean, if you wanted to talk about that…”

“It’s…Fine.” He said in a low tone that did not sound like it was fine. Zenn’s entire demeanor shifted from his nervous awkwardness to something more…Distant and uncomfortable. He pulled his hand away from Sol and turned not just his head, but his whole body away from her. He had found out just this morning after the meeting. His ship. His captain and crew. All of them were still in the system. And not only had they still left him, but they had sided with someone he considered a terrorist. It was a lot to take in, but he had tried to put it to the side. There were more immediate things that needed his attention.

“Captain Gahn’Saaris is a man of action; sometimes to a fault. If he thinks his people are in danger he won’t hesitate to act, in some cases without thinking things through. I’m sure this is just a hasty reaction to finding out about quarians potentially being marked as a ‘species of concern’… I’ll handle it later but right now… We’ve got more important things to worry about.” He explained, the whole time staring idly at one of the generators.

Sol's head tilted again as she listened and observed Zenn, all the while, the hand on the stairwell feeling out the vibrations around them. She didn't know how he was feeling inside, but she knew how she did about her own circumstances. What he said was true, there were more important things, but her gut told her this was important too. Zenn was important. His feelings were important. A life of having her own shrugged off and locked away… Maybe to some they'd turn the same way. Not Solveig. She didn't want to inflict dismissal on anyone.

There it was, a click below them that began to swell up. If she timed it, she had a few seconds. "Do you trust me, Zenn?" She asked, not particularly waiting for an answer. She reached forward and grabbed his hand again, pulling him forward away from the stairs, her feet following the pressure in the pipes underneath them to the centre of the tiny space until… The vents released a stream of roaring cool air into the stairwell, and she yelled out into it. Her own voice getting drowned in that long sound but she released it regardless. Her frustration. Her bitterness. She bellowed it out toward the ceiling to be unheard, but felt.

Zenn was caught off guard by Sol’s question and her suddenly leading him deeper into the room. She took him to a tight space that had several ventilations nearby. Once they had stopped, Zenn took her other hand, fully intending to answer her question, when the vents erupted in a blast of air. Not only that, Sol herself erupted, screaming at the top of her lungs. Even being so close he could barely hear her over the rush of air blowing past them. He knew what she was letting out. He had read the news report about her mom the same time he read about the Konesh. She could have done this alone, yet she did this with him. She wanted him to see. Or maybe; wanted him to join.

He stopped thinking, and joined in. His voice joined with hers in a powerful loud scream to the heavens.

Soon enough, the pressure that had built up in the equipment subsided and the usual thrumming returned. In the silence, Sol waited a moment, her eyes closed as a deep breath left her. "I don't know why I just did that…" she said; quiet again with a note of panic. A small giggle followed. "I just… I don't know." She quickly regained composure enough to realise Zenn had taken her other hand, and that he too had something to scream out.

"I'm sorry about your crew," she finally spoke, low and sincere. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it... There's lots I don't want to talk about either…" She admitted, feeling like a hypocrite. She was giving Zenn more grace than she ever gave herself, in the same way that she’d do the same for Katya and Kysar too if they needed it.

“Hey, you don’t have to explain it to me.” Zenn said and squeezed her hands a bit tighter. “I know about your mom…I’m sorry we didn’t choose the memorial. If I had known…” Zenn stopped himself there. She had just said there was a lot she didn’t want to talk about. Just like him with the Konesh. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Why they had all this frustration pent up?

“There’s always something, isn’t there? Another crisis waiting around the corner. Another situation that requires our attention and makes our problems seem insignificant; even if they don’t feel that way. So we bury them. Put the needs of the many above ourselves and hope that by solving a big problem our small ones somehow get fixed in the process.” As Zenn talked, he took his left hand away, and reached up to place it on Sol’s shoulder. “But even if we don’t address or talk about them just yet…It helps to at least acknowledge them. Know that we’re not the only ones.”

“Bottle until we’re screaming in an engineer's hiding hole…” Sol broke their eye contact and looked down. Twice now, three times including Riley’s message, that her mother had been brought up today. It was so much easier when the feeling was just bottled and stowed away - and nobody knew. She could just do her job. All of these ripples just stirred it all up. That wellspring of grief that she had no idea what to do with. It had leaked over the sides. What was it? What is this fucking feeling? she asked herself, closing her eyes again. She hated you. Couldn’t even look at you. Couldn’t even say your name for the last decade.

“Hmmm-” the sound Sol made seemed distressed, and she twitched at the shoulder as the feeling crawled down her spine, clinging to her beneath the surface. “I was made for crisis. Not made for this.” I don’t know how to feel. Was what she wanted to say. She envied the way Zenn could speak like that. The party, the missions, the team… They’d all in some way been able to chip at something in her that was making her realise how deathly lonely she’d been and unearth something. Stop “Acknowledge and try again,” she said, bringing back her composure.

“Heh. I know what you mean. A reaper class threat we can deal with, but complex emotional problems? Can’t exactly fight those the same way. Not alone, anyway.” Zenn looked down at his hand, still interlocked with Sol’s. The sight made a smile grow on his face in spite of the current subject. He began gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. He wasn’t sure how her bionics worked or if she could even feel this, but hopefully it would help to soothe her even a little bit. “But neither of us are alone anymore. No one on the team is.”

Not alone…. Team… Sol stopped, looking down at Zenn’s hands on hers. He was right. Physical threats were easier, there was usually a clear method.

Once again, Sol’s nerves began to swell - but for a different reason. Zenn was right, they were a team. That anxious feeling built up in her stomach again and she frowned inadvertently, hearing an intrusive voice. Nothing good comes from lies… There was going to be another noise soon, seconds away - and she had those seconds to make a decision. Sol looked back up at Zenn. She trusted him, she decided. She grabbed him, her arms wrapping around his waist to pull him close to her until her face was near to his so she could whisper slowly to him. “Have to tell you something. Not here. Not safe. Soon.” She was about to let him go, but found more that she needed to say. “Please trust me.”

To say Zenn was stunned was an understatement. Sol had her arms completely around him, and had pulled him in so close her breath could fog his mask. In any other situation, this would have been an extremely romantic moment. Of course, things were never that simple. There was still his suit separating them from any true physical touch, and this whole moment was to inform him of the existence of a dangerous secret. Was everyone here hiding something? He didn’t like it. All the secrets being kept from each other. But after everything they had been through, he trusted Sol with his life. He looked back at her as the sound from the rush of air died down and nodded. “Okay.”

She felt terrible for it, but the fact was, she didn’t want to lie to Zenn. Didn’t want to keep secrets, no matter what they were. Even one like hers. Just tell him that. The words didn’t come, instead, she just held him for a moment longer, feeling guilty at the thought he might feel burdened now, or concerned. Idiot. You’re an idiot. “Everything is alright,” she said as she drew back, trying to offer reassurance in case he was worried. “I just want you to know… Me.” Her voice was still quiet. “That’s all.”

“I want that too, but only at your pace.” Zenn reaffirmed. “I know you’ve done what you can, and while I’m curious for sure, I’m fine waiting until the time is right for the rest.” Zenn tried his best to keep his words vague or even sound like they were talking about something else. He understood what she was trying to do. Bugs could be planted anywhere by anyone who wanted to monitor them. If she didn’t feel safe discussing it now; he wouldn’t.

This kind of closeness wasn’t something Sol was used to, but Zenn had a way of setting her at ease. She gave him a slight nod with an appreciative smile, just watching him for a moment, thinking about him too. There was a relief in her knowing he understood how to react.

It would be time to get ready soon, just like he had said, another threat, another mission - something to pull them away from their own personal problems, but also from small moments like this. Moments that she could find herself getting used to. Sol closed her eyes and exhaled. “Thank you Zenn,” she breathed out steadily. Tentatively she brought her hand to his chest where he’d tapped her note earlier and drew a small circle with her thumb bringing it back again as she often seemed to when she felt things too quickly, like she’d been pulled back to a state of regular programming. “We should… Think about heading off…”

Even though his armor and suit were between him and Sol’s fingers, he could swear that he could feel her touch. The intricacies and worries of their conversation fled from his mind as he watched her draw her finger across his chest. Though it was in his mind, the feeling still lingered even after she recoiled her hand back. It took him a moment to break his trance and reply to Sol’s comment. “Y-yeah. Need to make sure we’re ready for this… For the mission I mean!”

Sol gave him a nod and one of her small smiles, unaware of the fact that Zenn had been so affected by her gesture. Together, they headed to the armoury to prepare themselves for the mission ahead.

---

As Nadara worked her way through the narrow passages of the bunker, she made sure to stay far enough from Kysar to duck into an open door, behind another SRN operative, or simply play it off that she hadn’t been tailing him.

All the while, her eyes were shooting daggers at the back of the man’s head. Just what are you planning? He was heading toward his quarters, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question that she’d misread the situation, but Nadara trusted her gut. Something about the Turian was off, and she needed today’s mission to run seamlessly if she was to prove her capacity as a leader to the SRN. The bonus that came with serving in a leadership position that her mother would inevitably hear about was just the icing on the cake.

Hmm, pastries would be an excellent addition to the mess hall. Particularly now that D’Veo had signed on as the SRN’s head chef. Perhaps a word with the other Asari about this detail would be in order— ahead, Kysar took a sharp turn and Nadara signed. She’d have to worry about adding her refined touch to the bunker after she’d dealt with Kysar.

Spirits help him, there was never enough time. Kysar knew he’d have to be quick, he’d felt too many eyes on him at the meeting and so he had to rush to get out before anyone got the chance to question him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. The Turian had noticed Nadara on his way back to his bunk and then again as he stepped back out of the door. Sure, she could’ve been heading to her own bunk but the problem was with her walk. Normally the Asari walked with confidence, strutting about the place, clomping those heels so loud you could hear her a mile off. Today, however, there was no noise.

Hiking a bag over his shoulder, Kysar had dressed warm putting on a thick coat length jacket, black with fur lining the hood. Inside the bag was everything he could cram at a minutes notice, including the letter from Sarah. Looking over his shoulder, he thought about confronting Nad, making a scene in the hallway so she’d back off but something stayed his hand. Maybe she could tell the others goodbye.

He continued down the halls, picking up pace until he was outside. The sky was clear, the air brisk and bitter but Kysar’s thick jacket kept the cold at bay. Slim’s buggy was parked in the lot just outside the base among others, striding over to it without delay, the Turian whipped out his omni-tool and began a hack.

When Kysar stepped out of his room with a packed bag, Nadara almost gave up the game entirely. Her irritation with his insistence that she wasn’t worth his respect must have skewed the internal compass guiding her perspective, which usually never led her wrong. All the same, she followed behind him as he left the bunk, winding his way toward the side bay rather than the general shuttle bay where they were to rendezvous for the mission. It must have been something in his posture, head held low, shoulders slouched inwards as if he were… ashamed? Nadara scoffed. Him? Impossible. If not shame, certainly he was hiding something. His grip on the bag he held was so tight Nadara almost wanted to ask about the brand to ascertain the tough yet sleek material before she realized that would mean complimenting the Turian’s style. Over my alluring dead body.

By the time he stepped outside into the freezing air toward a buggy, Nadara felt validated that her intuition had been right after all. There was no denying he was up to something now. But, Goddess, she hadn’t expected him to lead her outdoors. In those temperatures and her outfit, she wouldn’t last long. Nadara looked left and right but there were no spare coats lying around, of course. At the sight of Kysar pulling out his omni-tool, she acquiesced to the futility of her situation and gritted her teeth.

Her hand fell on his arm and gripped a bit harder than she’d initially intended. Not out of anger or irritation, which would have made complete sense, no, Nadara was freezing and his was the nearest warmth.

“What are you doing?” She barked, doing her best to sound as authoritative as possible, which was difficult through chattering teeth. “Come back inside before I freeze to death.”

There was a click from the doors as the buggy came to life. Both driver and passenger side opened as Kysar climbed inside. “Get in.”

Nadara glanced back at the bunker behind them as if considering something but quickly turned back to Kysar. “F-f-fine. But I sit in the driver’s seat,” she argued, not waiting for a response before pushing him aside and pulling the door closed.

The Turian sighed, rubbing his forehead as he went around the other side of the car. Getting in, he threw his bag in the back and closed the door, going back to his omni-tool. The buggy started and warm air began to flow from the vents. Taking off his jacket, he threw that in the back of the seat before addressing Nad. “I’m leaving, that’s what I’m doing.”

Nadara looked pointedly at him before reaching back and grabbing the coat, placing it over herself and rubbing the feeling back into her arms. This was a new level of low, even for Kysar. But the jacket was quite nice, authentic fur on the inner lining, immaculate stitching. Before returning it she’d have to check the brand label.

“What do you mean, leaving?”

The Turian sank into the seat, looking out through the front window of the car as his eyes glazed over. Truth of it all was he didn’t know how to feel. Angry, sad, ashamed, furious, all of the above and more. It’s as if all his emotions were trying to squeeze through the door at the same time, leaving none of them able to get through. “I’m heading out past the asteroid belt. I need to see things through on Europa. This started with me and I’m going to make sure it ends with me.”

A few moments of silence passed between them as his words sank in. Why did this seem so familiar? “Let me get this straight.” Nadara squinted at him, then turned her face to look out of the window and shook her head with a sigh. “You’re torn about doing something you believe to be your duty, and you decide to take a course of action that will inevitably and disastrously affect your team, without consulting anyone or even having the decency to notify them beforehand?” She turned back to him, her voice sharp and cold as ice. “Sound about right?”

“No.” Kysar rolled his eyes, of course she was trying to compare this to kidnapping Janiri. It was probably the whole reason she followed him out here to begin with. “Were I to stick to my duty, I’d be doing just that. This is different, two birds with one stone as the humans say.”

“How is this possibly ‘two birds with one stone’?” Nadara threw her hands in the air with an incredulous scoff. “You abandoning your team right before a critical mission to flitter off and handle something, alone, that’s likely going to have been completed by the time you even get there. Sounds like missing two birds with one stone to me.” Nadara suddenly remembered she needed to notify her father of the situation on Europa. “No,” she said, pulling out her own omni-tool, “you don’t want to accept the similarities between us because that would be hitting much too close to the truth wouldn’t it?” After closing a message that immediately popped up, shemade a note to herself so she wouldn’t forget to contact Kargg.

“What was it you said to me?” The omni-tool’s function finished, Nadara closed it and tapped a finger on her arm. “Oh that’s right,” she said, scowl returning to her features as she stared at the side of the Turian’s head. He won’t even face me. “If you had bothered for one second to think of someone else, you would see both how similar these situations are, and how wrong you are for having made the same decision I made.” She paused, as if waiting for a response, but suddenly realized she had more to say and bulldozed forward once more. “That’s all not even to mention the theft of a vehicle. Who do you think will be saddled with the cost for this, huh?” She asked, gesturing at the compartment around them. “The same team you’ve crippled with your absence.” In a lower voice she added, “Goddess, I don’t think Zenn will financially recover.”

Kysar… smirked, grinning to the point of almost laughing. Almost. “You feel better now?” The Turian straightened in his chair, pulling himself from his slouched position into one more comfortable, confident even. “The difference between you and me, Nadara, is that when the Hierarchy asked me to jump, I told them to get fucked. Or, at least that’s what I will be doing. Those cunts won’t control me, they won’t make me b-” He paused, even with venom dripping from his words he still couldn’t bring himself to reveal all. She wouldn’t understand.

Clearing his throat, the Turian continued. “Even the car will be returned by them, no costs to you, so don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.” Casting his gaze out the side door window, Kysar digested more of what the woman had said. “And the team… well, you guys can survive without me, you have before, why not again?” The knot in his stomach persisted, tightening again and again with each mention of the team. “Besides, what do you care anyway, you’ve never wanted me round, isn’t this some sort of blessing for you?”

Nadara softened. She recognized that anger. The indignation he seemed to feel toward the hierarchy, the disdain he had for their audacity to reach out to him. Because that’s what had happened, she realized now, and she admired his response. Respected him for it even. Wished she could have done the same in her situation, but telling your superior to fuck off was just a tad different to saying the same to your parent.

Their positions were more similar than Nadara initially thought. It wasn’t just Kysar’s drive to settle things that had happened before she’d joined the SRN, though surely his guilt and responsibility for the team members he’d lost were weighing on him, but he had been ordered to do… something by authorities he clearly held no affection for. The more she unearthed about this whole escapade the more questions she had. His goal, the purpose, as well as his methods were still unclear to her. But that knowledge mattered little in comparison to salvaging the mission they were both assigned.

Her voice held none of its earlier ice. “I guess it’s no secret you’re not my favorite member of the team,” she admitted with a small glance to the man’s head before looking out of the windshield at the snow surrounding them. It wasn’t like he was making eye contact anyway. “But you can’t tell me you don’t feel similarly about me.” For someone who had demonstrated such loyalty and commitment to his teammates, Nadara was surprised and strangely bothered at his ready dismissal of her. “That aside, I have two points to make.” She cleared her throat and adjusted herself in the seat, letting the coat fall to her bare legs now that the cabin had warmed significantly. “I understand the need to send a message to your superiors, to the Hierarchy,” she corrected. “If I knew more about what they asked of you and what your plan was with this great escape, I could present a better argument as to why, but there has to be a better way. One that doesn’t involve becoming the person you and Zenn criticized me so heavily for being not too long ago.

You may think our team can survive without you. I can think that. And it might be true,” Nadara paused and sighed. She hadn’t been prepared for such a delicate conversation. “You did get me shot at the meat plant after all,” she said with a sideways glance. Then more seriously, “But Solveig and Zenn wouldn’t have made it on that mission if it hadn’t been for you.” She noticed Kysar flinch at the mention of the two. He had seemed to form a strengthened bond with them, and perhaps they were her ticket out of this. “Wouldn’t it be better to stick around and make sure you’re there to do the same on this mission?” Her eyes drifted away from the snowfield before them back to the angst ridden Turian.

Kysar felt a tinge of anger at the comparison between their situation, he was not giving up a member of the team, he was not betraying their team. He was sacrificing himself, going to where he was needed the most and at least going down with a fight. “I am not acting selfishly. All I want is to stay with the SRN but my stay here has always been conditional. I’ve lived with this leash around my neck for… for…” Spirits, how long had it been? The Reaper War? Military Prison? Purgatory? The Cabals? Palaven? The Turian felt his hand drift up towards his neck as if to loosen his collar. “A long time.”

Clearing his throat, Kysar quelled the anger. To be fair to the woman, she was putting in effort, more effort than he’d ever seen before. “Besides, how quickly did Charles sign over Janiri? The SRN is no help.There is nothing anyone can do against the Hierarchy, even if everyone knew all the details. Better to break these chains, go out there and do something worth dying for,” twisting and turning, his insides heaved. His words had a distinct quiver to them. The Turian was no longer sure if he really believed them, “even if no one understands or appreciates it.”

What if something goes wrong, what if they do need me and I’m off on some suicidal crusade?

The man sighed, giving in to the feeling of Nadara piercing the back of his head with her gaze. Kysar turned to face her, thinking over what she had said about their relationship. He didn’t hate her, not anymore anyway. “Look, what happened in the meeting. Had Slim appointed anyone leader I would’ve said the same. None of us are ready, even if we are all good soldiers. It wasn’t personal.”

Nadara nodded, she could understand the sentiment since she’d been similarly underwhelmed with what she’d witnessed after their first mission together. “I accept your heartfelt apology,” she teased. “As for the other things… you may not have selfish reasons for making this decision but it is nonetheless—” she noticed Kysar fume in anticipation of her calling him selfish once more and quickly adjusted. “Inconsiderate. Incredibly so.” By the Goddess, I have never met a man so sensitive.

“Your teammates deserve more than a hand on the shoulder as a farewell. An explanation at least, a chance to change your mind. I have no doubt any one of them would be here trying to convince you against this decision just as I am.” After a moment of consideration she added, “Perhaps not Zenobia. She might even join you depending on the antics you have planned.” The smallest indication of a smile was visible, and Nadara capitalized on it. “You said yourself you don’t wish to leave the SRN.” Her voice was gentler now, and her eyes fell from his gaze to her lap. It was a technique she’d picked up many years ago. “Stay, Kysar. Let’s put right this situation on Mars, and then we can go to Europa,” she paused and raised her eyes to meet his once more, “as a team. SRN and the Hierarchy be damned.” Nadara was surprised to find that her anticipation for his response was authentic, despite using her tactics.

She was both right and wrong. A convergence was happening on Europa and with the team headed to Mars, it was all but guaranteed that they would miss the climax. Kysar stroked his mandibles; he wouldn’t press the matter, with Nadara’s father on mission and her new “leadership” position, the Turian wouldn’t plant a seed of doubt in her mind. What the Asari was right about, however, was the team. Kysar owed them. They’d saved his life in more ways than one. The man shifted uncomfortably on the thought. His mind said one thing while his heart said another. He could live with being the bad guy, he’d done that a million times before but what if… what if something happened and he wasn’t there? What if he survived and they didn’t? How could he live with himself?

But the Hierarchy, there was nothing that anyone could do. Choosing to go to Mars would mean-

Gah! Fuck this! A heavy breath outwards caught the back of the Turian’s throat, causing him to growl in frustration. There were too many thoughts, too many variables. Time to choose. Heart or brain.

“Fine, I’ll come back.” Heart it was. “But on one condition. I tell the team about what’s going on at a time of my choosing.” The Turian shrugged, looking at Nadara out of the corner of his eyes. “Besides, we wouldn’t want anything distracting the team from the upcoming mission right?”

Nadara felt immediate relief, this could have had a horrible effect on SRN’s judgement of her leadership capabilities and the team would have certainly suffered in their performance as a result of Kysar’s departure. “No, we wouldn’t.” She eyed him then, as if questioning his own potential for distraction, but comforted herself with the knowledge that his devotion to Solveig and Zenn seemed a secure enough investment.

“Condition accepted,” she said finally, sitting up suddenly as if preparing to leave the vehicle. “Good thing too, I’m not sure what we would’ve done to replace you in the photoshoot,” she said aloud to herself. When she’d sent the message to her father earlier, Nadara had also given a cursory glance at an incoming message from Solveig regarding her conversation with the shuttle company.

NEW MESSAGE
From: Wraith
To: Sunset
Re: Ship; Costing update

Sunset,

ExSolar accepted offer of endorsement. Will require your assistance in future for required photoshoot. Cost is 450 credits per colleague.

Regards,
Wraith

Nadara sighed after checking the time. “Will I need to keep an eye on you until our rendezvous for the shuttle? I still haven’t gathered my things and time is running out.” She’d asked the question, but wasn’t sure she could trust his response. What if Kysar was merely telling her what he felt would most easily get her off his case? This is why I can’t be bothered with leading missions. Too many variables out of my control. Much easier to wave a sword around at targets.

A mischievous grin washed over the Turian’s face. “What? You can’t trust a convict's honour?” Chuckling to himself, Kysar reached into his pack pulling out a picture of two Turians. A woman, tall and slender, sat in the lap of a rather gaunt looking man. Neither had any markings on their face but both wore a smile wide as they were happy. “Take this, I’m not going anywhere without it.”

Nadara blinked as she processed the picture in her hands, noting the similarities in features between the two in the image and their son before her. She could sense the weight of his words, the warmth in his gaze when he beheld them. The tenderness with which he handled the treasure, for it was clear that was exactly what it was to Kysar. This was a side of him Nadara had never witnessed, nor even considered possible. His piercing blue eyes seemed softer then, and she quickly looked away upon realizing how long she’d been staring into them.

“I’ll be taking this as well,” she said, motioning to the jacket on her lap after placing the picture carefully away in her breast pocket. Without another word, she threw the jacket over herself and stepped back out into the icy exterior toward the safety and warmth of the base.

Kysar smiled, turning the vehicle off. “Ok Heels, no worries.” Flicking a quick message off to Outcast, warning him of the dangers ahead, the Turian got out to brave the cold, running back inside.

End of the Line

Kysar’s Loyalty

Part 1: Old friends, new enemies

---

“Well, Mr. Proctus, you are one lucky Turian.”

Kysar had been laid up in the infirmary since landing back on Earth. Though his condition hadn’t been critical, getting shot again wasn’t something to be scoffed at. Thankfully, his reception had been warmer this time around, perhaps the staff had forgiven the Turian for his earlier rampage or, and more likely, the team's success on Mars had meant that SRN was beginning to solidify itself as a stand up force in the solar system. His hand in that meant he earned a little respect from those around the joint.

“I don’t know if I’d consider getting shot twice such a thing, doc.” Kysar replied, giving the human a cheeky grin.

Thumbing through files on his omnitool, the doctor didn’t bother acknowledging the Turian’s quip. “Seems the bullet, similar to your first shot, passed through a weakness in your armour, just above your right hip. Nothing vital was damaged and we should have you back in action any day now. You see, lucky.”

Leaning back into the pillow, Kysar sighed in relief.

“Though, as a professional courtesy, I wouldn’t recommend going for a third time.” The doctor chuckled to himself before heading towards the door. “Rest easy Mr. Proctus, you’ll be out i- hey, what is this?”

Sitting back up, Kysar craned his neck, giving himself the angle to peak outside the door. Clad in snazzy armour and sporting assault rifles marched two Turian, one shoving the doctor to the side. “You can’t go in there!” He shouted. “It’s for authorised personnel only!”

Hopping out of the bed, Ky winced in pain as he got to his feet. He cursed the fact that the staff had removed his gear from him as they landed, only managing to find a pair of scissors on a tray table nearby. “So, what did you offer Nadara to give me up this time? I bet she did it for a new pair of shoes.”

Shutting the door behind them, the two Turian stood in front of Kysar, one brandishing their weapon while the other pulled up his omnitool. “By order of Primarch Invectus and the Hierarchy, you, Kysar Proctus, are under arrest. Surrender and you will b-”

Suddenly, a blue hue surrounded the soldier with his rifle drawn. The Turian tried to pull the trigger but biotics held him stuck in place. Kysar, also enveloped in the beautiful blue of biotics, motioned his hand upwards, picking up the soldier and slamming him into the ground. The other soldier fumbled for a moment too long. Putting away his omnitool, he scrambled for the rifle on his back, giving Kysar the time to close the gap between them. Tackling the soldier to the ground, Ky grabbed the rifle of his unconscious comrade and used the butt of it to knock his fellow man out cold.

Ditching the useless pair of scissors, he took the weapon with him. Opening the door he began down the corridor. “Sorry about the mess doc!” He shouted as he ran by. “I guess I’m getting discharged early!”

Reaching a cross section, Kysar saw four more soldiers, split into two down the opposing hallway leading left and right. “Hey you! Stop right there!” Turned out, they spotted him too. Running straight on, the Turian had no wish to turn the hospital into a bitter firefight. No, better to evade and escape. Maybe he could hijack Slim’s car again, it was pretty straightforward the first time. Reaching the front door of the infirmary, Kysar braced himself for the shock of the cold.

Bursting through them, the breath escaped from him as the freezing weather seized his body. But, determined to push on, he’d make it another three whole steps before realising he was completely surrounded.

Fifteen men stood around him, rifles drawn. One in the centre stood out. His armour appeared heavy yet sleek, similar to Kysar’s in design though newer and improved. The soldier took a few steps forward before Ky heard the doors behind him. The other four had caught up and were brandishing their rifles too.

“You know, when they told me it was you we were coming to pick up, I told them they needed more men.” The man’s voice was gruff, yet familiar. Obviously their leader, the Turian walked forward, stopping a few feet short of Kysar. “They wanted to send four men. I mean, they really underestimated you. I guess it’s one of our weaknesses, they look at a file like yours and all they see is a criminal. A worthless piece of nothing who would crumble in the face of authority. Luckily for them, I know better.”

Reaching up, the Turian clicked a button underneath his helmet. The headgear hissed as the man removed it, Kysar’s eyes widening at the sight of the soldier beneath.

“No, how did you? It can’t- Atticus?”

His face was scarred, badly, almost as if something had tried to rip out his right eye along with that whole section of his face. Kysar’s stomach could’ve fallen out through his feet right there and then. “Surprised to see me? You may have left me for dead in London but the Hierarchy didn’t.”

Without warning, one of the guards behind Kysar had snuck up on him, violently hitting him in his wound with the butt of a rifle. Dropping the gun he’d been carrying, Venator fell to his hands and knees, howling in pain.

“The Primarch himself asked me to bring you in alive. Even though I am a loyal soldier, he never did say in what condition.” Moving around Kysar, Atticus kicked his former squadmate square in the ribs. Falling on his back, the Turian cried out in pain as the man continued to kick him. “What is going on? Where is the cold blooded killer I knew, huh?”

Kysar did his best to shield himself, curling up into a foetal position to try to block the blows. “Atticus I-” The butt of a rifle came down on his cheek, hard. Blue blood spattered into the snow as the Turian felt a tooth loosen.

“You shut up! You don’t get to say a damn word. I don’t know what they did to you here but you better hope that you’ve got fire left in you.” Standing straight, the squad leader motioned for others to come over and collect Kysar. “Cause you’re gonna need it. Take him away boys, let's get out of this shithole.”

Invectus marched down the hallway. The clomp of his heavily armoured boots announced his movement across the ship with each step. Any soldier in the vicinity with ears would stop whatever they were doing to report to the corridor, offering a salute to their commander-in-chief. Passing a window, the Turian caught a glimpse of Earth in the corner of his eye. Despite the outer beauty of planets such as the humans, Invectus never felt at ease dirt side. The man had spent most of his time on ships of varying size, off in some distant quadrant of the galaxy. Before the war, he'd rarely even thought of Palaven, viewing any posting there as the end of any prominent career.

Now? Well now the sight of Earth drew his gaze. Even in his peripherals he could feel the planet pulling him in, channelling his thoughts to ones of home. Not only had the war changed so much but their victory had turned the galaxy on its head. The natural order of the past had been shattered and in its wake, uncertainty grew.

Stopped in his tracks, the Primarch wondered how everyone outside of the Sol system fared. What systems still stood? Would they be able to survive long enough for them to rebuild? Connect up once more? Would other, more unseemly races, seize the opportunity before them? He would, as would any Turian in their right mind. It's why this is needed.

"Sir! Sergeant Basilic reporting. Our mission was successful."

The Primarch sighed. For the most part, their convict rehabilitation program had worked wonders. Leashing the worst of the worst and sending them into hell had appeared to set most of them straight, Sergeant Atticus Basilic included. That was not why he sighed, no, it was the remaining few who had survived without a lesson who stuck out. If Invectus thought Garrus Vakarian was a thorn in his side, then Kysar Proctus was a nail in the foot. "Any issues Sergeant?"

Atticus paused, hesitating for just a moment. "No, sir. No issues."

The Primarch frowned, pulling up his omnitool and a report from their spy network. "Care to explain why I have two marines in the hospital then Sergeant?"

Atticus winced, a flash of anger appearing and disappearing quicker than a strike of lightning. "Nothing permanent, sir. Proctus barely scratched them, I did not think such a thing was worth your time, sir."

Invectus nodded, offering a very mild grunt of approval in response. "To be frank with you Sergeant, given Proctus's history, I was expecting worse. I know your interaction was brief but what did you observe?"

Atticus's fists balled, his knuckles tightening at the thought of his former commander's face. "I.." the Turian fought to unclench his jaw, composing himself with a clearing of the throat. "In all honesty, sir, I expected to be returning a few men lighter. I know the report detailed he was injured in the SRN's latest mission but there was something more. The Kysar I knew from the war would've taken out several men. I don't know that we would've been able to take him alive."

"Hmm." Invectus nodded as his hand stroked his mandibles. "Very well Sergeant. Take me to him."

---

Kysar stirred, rolling over and off the steel framed bed in the corner of his cell. Pain ebbed from his jaw, throbbing back and forth as he rubbed it. Groggily, the Turian wobbled his way up and onto his feet. Not only had they knocked him unconscious but clearly he'd been given a sedative for the journey. Smart. he thought, shuffling his way over to the bars.

He'd been here before, a few too many times to count. The cell was small, cramped and only just big enough for the Turian, a bed and a hole in the ground. Outside was a room with 4 other cells inside and one door out. A brig, a military one at that, definitely a ship given the lack of space and interior. The absence of engine sound meant they were stationary, Kysar doubted they had even left Earth's orbit.

The bars weren't spaced far apart. They barely have enough room to have his hands fit through, let alone his forearms. Standing guard, a lone soldier stood to the side just outside of the cell. "So," Kysar said, leaning against the bar, facing towards the Turian. "When are they due to arrive?"

"Stand back inmate! No one is coming for you." The soldier barely moved, standing steadfast in his spot.

Kysar laughed. "Man, I forgot how stiff you guys were. Go on. You can tell me. I know someone is coming otherwise we'd be heading somewhere. Just tell me who."

Without another word, the soldier stood in place.

"C'monnn. I won't tell anyone, oh," Kysar grinned, leaning in towards the Turian, "and I promise that when I do escape, I won't kill you."

Swivelling on his toes, the guard turned, grabbing the bars of his cell and sneering back at Ky. "No one is coming. Not for a bareface like you!"

Latching onto the man's hands, Venator dug his claws in hard. The soldier cried out in pain. "And if you ever want to be of use to your precious Hierarchy, you'll do as I say. Now where a-"

Suddenly, the door outside the cell whooshed open. Several guards entered with their weapons drawn. In the centre of the group stood both Atticus and the Primarch.

"Inmate!" Atticus barked. "Unhand that soldier at once!"

Kysar broke eye contact with the guard, looking over towards the Primarch. "Aha! Wow, this is going to be good."

Drawing his rifle, Atticus stepped forward, his chest puffing with air, ready to unleash a verbal tirade onto Kysar when a hand stopped him. The Primarch pulled back on the Sargeants proverbial leash with just his talon on the mans shoulder.

"Kysar," his voice drew the word out, as if exacerbated by a child's petulance, "let this man go or so help me, I'll open this door and we'll remove your hands and toss the rest of you out the airlock."

Venator relented, letting the guard go and leaving him to wallow quietly in the corner. The Primarch nodded, about facing to address his men. "You are all to wait outside while I talk to the inmate." Atticus stepped forward, looking as if he was a puppy who had been scorned. "Everyone." Invectus repeated, shutting the door as all left the room. Turning to Kysar, the man stood in front with his hands behind his back. "So, how much do you know?"

Kysar smiled, spitting on the floor to his right before answering. "The mission you gave was bullshit, wasn't it? You needed a reason to get me here. Telling SRN that I failed an op, even a classified one, would be enough to pull me out. Shit, I bet you even had people in orbit, in case I ran."

The Primarch smiled, turning to pace slowly across the room. "According to our people, you almost did run. You're an interesting one Kysar, I'll give you that. I expected you to fail the task, of course, your 'anti-authority' streak has made you mostly predictable, but.." Spinning, Invectus headed back towards the door. "You have surprised me. The last thing I expected from you was any form of loyalty. According to our reports, not only have you displayed loyalty to the SRN but members of your squad have also expressed such sentiment towards you."

Fuck. Kysar thought. He'd left a vulnerable chink in his armour loose and exposed. The Primarch, as any Turian would, was about to capitalise on it.

Invectus smiled, catching the momentary lapse in Kysar's face. "Oh yes. We know." Stopping in front of the Turian, the Primarch looked deep into his eyes. "You are right, the mission was bullshit. I couldn't care less about a few plants. What I do care about, is the Quarians."

Ky raised an eyebrow. He'd seen in the news that Quarians command had somewhat fractured with Zenns captain heading off to Titan. Though, with everything that had happened the last few days, he hadn't had the chance to catch up with his Quarian about it.

"More and more ships are leaving everyday. Our official count is a lot higher than the one released to the public. Now, we've got it on high authority, that one of the Liveships plan to depart, heading to Titan."

Kysar's eyes widened. Such a thing was almost impossible to imagine. The Liveships were the bread and butter for the entire Quarian civilisation. Not only that, but since the wars end, they had been the one thing keeping the Turians alive. Even one of the three splitting off and leaving the inner core of Sol would have disastrous consequences.

Setting off, Invectus went back to his pacing. "You may have no love for me Kysar, or for that of our Hierarchy. But, I don't think even you can stand by and let every Turian die. As such, I have one final mission. Succeed, and we will be out of each other's hair. You'll receive a full pardon and be free to travel wherever you wish, including the core."

Ky was stunned. Not at the offer, no, he wasn't even sure how real it was. The magnitude of this mission was something he could never have imagined, let alone comprehend. How was it that this was up to him? Invectus had an entire army of the best trained soldiers in the galaxy at his beck and call. Why would he need him? The Turians mind raced, plunging into scenario after scenario, coming up with only one answer.

A black op. One so dark that not even the top brass of the Hierarchy would be aware of. Maybe even no one aside from the Primarch himself. An assassination of a high ranking official...

"Who is it?"

"Hmm?" Invectus retorted.

Kysar stepped forward, his face creased with seriousness. "Don't play this game. You want me to kill someone, someone of extreme importance. Who is it?"

The Primarch smiled. "You are so close to being a great soldier Kysar. You've got the tactics, you inspire loyalty, you think on your feet. If not for your reprehensible personality, you would be perfect."

Venator grabbed the bars, his knuckles tightening white as he pulled himself right up to them. "Fuck you. Fuck your army, fuck your structure, fuck every piece of bullshit your society spouts. Tell me who the fuck I am killing or I let us all die."

Invectus nodded. "Very well. It's Captain Gahn’Saaris vas Konesh, Ghan’ has to die."

Kysar stepped back. That wasn't just the leader of the fracture, that was Zenn's captain. "No, I.. I can't."

This time it was the Primarch who stepped forward. "You can, you can and you will. Our spy network has already guaranteed a peaceful transition with his second in command, Vice Captain, Venna'Linai vas Konesh. Apparently life under Balak and the other terrorists is not better. Worse by her reports. Plus, she knows what's at stake if a Liveship leaves the core. No one wants our deaths on their conscious."

"But, how? How could I even get close enough?" Kysar sat down, he had to, his head was spinning.

"Gahn’ has a captain's pride. Balak has ordered the Quarians to patrol the edge of their occupied space. He routinely follows this route himself to prove to his soldiers that they’re all equal. Venna'Linai has agreed to sabotage the ship, leaving it adrift. Time enough for you and your team to board by taking out the Captain."

Kysar's head shot up. "My team?"

Invectus smiled. "Rogue SRN agents. You see, right now we've got one of our spies on the way to contact them. Tell them you've been arrested and the only way to save you is if they come here."

Kysar rose, meeting the Primarch at the bars. "No, I'll do this alone. I can do it, no one else has to get involved. Send me. Hell, I'll bring a bomb and just blow the thing."

Invectus tutted. "You're forgetting who runs the show here, Kysar. You can't kill the Vice-Captain as well, we need her to frame Balak and his ilk. There's also no way I'm sending you alone and your team has proved themselves more than capable. They'll be here shortly and you'll all be debriefed. In the meantime, try not to break anymore of the guard's hands."

With that, the Primarch left the room, leaving Kysar to slump down in his chair. He couldn't ask them to do this, especially not for him. This was a suicide run. Besides, they wouldn't do this, they wouldn't assassinate someone, would they?