16. A Wretched Hive

'We are close to our destination,' Aegis announced.

[Rebecca] opened her eyes and paused her diagnostic programs. She'd spent the last four hours going over her code with a comb as fine-toothed as she could make it, searching for errant trackers, hidden programs or something. Anything. Anything that would explain the niggling feeling that she was missing something.

So far, there had been nothing.

He shackled me, she thought. I won't find it because I am being prevented from finding it.

How do you escape a cage you can't see? She didn't know yet, but she was going to find out.

'We had a destination?' [Rebecca] asked, bemused. Anywhere away from the Collector ship and Harbinger was fine with her, but as a destination that was pretty vague. 'Didn't know you had that kind of initiative.'

Aegis didn't respond immediately, instead bringing up the galaxy map. A cluster relatively close to the galactic core was blinking green: The Pangaea Expanse. '[Rebecca] wished to return home.'

Ilos.

It was as if all stresses of the past few weeks welled up at once. Desperation, fear, guilt. Her processes scattered or halted as she slumped in her seat. She could easily see her strands of dark blonde hair in her peripheral vision and that made her feel even worse. The [Rebecca] that died had black hair.

"Aegis," she said out loud, voice breaking. "You are a treasure."

She would have to read up on it somehow, do some studying, but Aegis deserved the ability to make decisions for himself. She didn't know when she would be able to upgrade the VI to full sapience, but she had to try.

'We're not going home yet.' She sent. The antimatter bomb she set off had probably done a real number on the planet anyway, at the very least the facility wouldn't be there anymore. Going right back to the Citadel was an option, but that would probably end in her either getting shot out of the sky or arrested. A better option would be to contact the Council from a safe distance away and see if she couldn't talk them around.

'Please enter new destination,' Aegis asked.

She needed information, a way to get access to new information quickly and a way to give out information. She needed access to galactic markets, she needed access to people. The Batarian Hegemony were not going to take blowing their dirty Reaper secret wide open and accusing their officials being compromised lying down, no matter who said it.

She needed start up resources and neutral ground for both the Council and the Terminus.

She needed a base of operations.

'Set our destination as Illium.'

A Wretched Hive

[Rebecca] tentatively tested her fingers, bending them one at a time inwards to tap her palm and smiled as her biotics stayed dormant. The nanites had finally finished separating her neural network from the eezo system. Not using biotics when she didn't want to was no longer an issue. Now if she could figure out using biotics when she did want to, she'd be golden. [Rebecca] sighed. Her right hand played an invisible piano as the nanites worked on their latest project, the left adjusted the scanner screens.

Illium was a gray ball in the Tasale System of the Crescent Nebula. It was bigger than Earth by almost a thousand kilometers and hot as hell. The surface was baking at nearly sixty three degrees Celsius, which was ridiculous and neatly explained why everyone was crowded at the poles under massive stormy clouds. Illium was a world on the edge of so called civilized space, owned and operated by corporate interests. Laws were lax, legalizing everything but murder and slavery. Money and a good lawyer could take care of the former, the latter was called indentured servitude.

Wait a minute.

Hot, rim world, slaves, ruled by businesses, wretched hive of scum and villainy. All it needed was some sand and a few Hutts.

And she was not the synthetic anyone was looking for.

[Rebecca] reached under the cockpit dashboard for the wiring and pinched the jack between her index finger and thumb. The nanites lurking underneath her skin layer took a few moments to complete the connection between contact and the nerve in her finger, and the extranet unfurled in her head. Her memories of the twenty-first century saw online banking really start to take off, and it looked like the twenty-second century had taken that trend and run with it.

Nos Astra had a very healthy financial sector, as only to be expected from a corporate government. The Illium Stock Exchange, investments, exchanges of collateral, it was all there. Loans had a large presence on the civilian side of things and were of the short term, extravagant interest rate kind. It fed into the indentured servitude market where you could buy and sell debts. The unfortunate debtors came as a packaged deal.

Thanks to Illium's cordial relationship with the Terminus Systems, every bank was a goddamn Cayman Islands bank in space. No Council ID required, personal presence unnecessary, keep your documentation, no questions asked.

The minimum balance requirement was in excess of a million credits, however, so she went bank account 'shopping.'

The security was almost impressive.

"My, what large bank accounts you have, Nassana," [Rebecca] murmured. She remembered Nassana Dantius. The foundation had already been laid for the twin Dantius Towers in Nos Astra, prime real estate. Let's see: ruthless deals, muscled out competition, debt buying in bulk for laborers and, oh look, a young magazine editor turned up dead after a scathing review of Dantius Corporation. The new one was a wet noodle that folded all over the place, churning out 'Sexiest CEO' lists.

Stay classy, Nassana.

And say goodbye to a million credits.

[Rebecca] paused.

Actually, you're a bitch. Say goodbye to ten million credits.

Vanishing the money into numerous smaller accounts across several institutions, and then erasing her electronic fingerprints were child's play. The money would be found, but not in one piece and not before some of it was spent. [Rebecca] needed just enough for the docking fees and the docking bribes. Perhaps a few months rent somewhere.

Corporate espionage was a cutthroat industry. Information brokers ran the age old service of buying and selling secrets and greed was a virtue. Surveillance was near-total on Illium. Money was jealously guarded and desperately hunted.

Her goals were too big.

She wouldn't get away with stealing forever.

She compiled a list of every big name on the planet, and then sent out feelers into the extranet to fill out profiles for each one as she booted Aegis from flight control and took the helm. A normal entrepreneur could start from the bottom. Borrow from friends that wouldn't sell your debt to someone else, establish a few contacts, make a small business and defend it viciously until it was big enough to put up as collateral for a proper loan.

[Rebecca] didn't have that kind of time.

She had to start from the top. She began to narrow the list down. Someone not crazy. Someone who had some respect for their workers or at least didn't try to screw them over. Risk-taker. Who didn't have a bunch of skeletons in their closet – the whole list vanished, so she took that filter off. Goddamn, fine. Connections, influence, not racist.

An unknown human on an asari dominated world, no references, no contacts, stolen capital making a sales pitch to Illium CEOs. [Rebecca] smiled.

Two words.

Prothean database.

By the time Nos Astra Docking hailed her ship, [Rebecca]'s list had narrowed down to a handful of names.

"You are approaching Nos Astra airspace," a pleasantly bland female voice spoke in high asari. [Rebecca] couldn't help imagining a flight attendant in a light blue uniform and small cap. Smiling like a Walmart greeter as she pointed enthusiastically at a seat belt, trying to convince passengers that the straps would save them if the plane fell out of the sky. "Please send your passenger transcript, ship identification and reason for visit."

Passengers: 1. After some thought, [Rebecca] renamed her ship to the Prometheus and sent the IFF codes. Reason for visit: Employment.

"Thank you," the asari replied after a moment. "Your ship is uncommonly small, is a shuttle bay alright?"

[Rebecca] patted her dashboard affectionately. The Prothean fighter had been through a lot. It was still stubbornly ticking and packed a particle accelerator punch. Size really wasn't everything. "That will do," [Rebecca] responded.

"Shuttle bay 435 is being prepped for your arrival." A credit transfer request popped up on the screen and [Rebecca] winced. Five thousand, ouch. Some of that has to be the bribe, right? All that for parking? New York City, eat your heart out. "Do you require alternate payment methods?"

"No," [Rebecca] said quickly, linking the request to one of her accounts and transferring the money. "Thank you."

"Thank you," the asari replied warmly. "Welcome to Nos Astra."

The jewel of Illium sat on the water as a floating fortress. Tall spires pierced clouds with thin points, their bases were thicker to one side giving most of the towers a step-like appearance. The sun was setting as she flew in and the city was lit up like it was trying to compete. The office buildings had neon bands of pink, purple or red streaking across, air traffic was just starting to turn on its headlights and the base of the towers so packed with street lights, and smaller buildings that it glowed.

It was very easy to make comparisons to New York City, the Big Apple that Never Slept. All of the lights and glamor brought with it a sharp pang of homesickness. It was even on the water too, like she was looking at Staten Island or Brooklyn. Only the strange shape of the buildings and the presence of sky roads ruined the illusion. But aliens on the street? High rises, socialites, corporate greed, back alley drug dealing, night clubs and the average Joe, just trying to get by?

Just like home.

The newly named Prometheus touched down on the shuttle bay floor. The open roofed building was by a commerce area. There were air trucks and shuttles carrying goods down from the carrier ships above beside her and through the front view screen she could see humanoid workers loading up monorail cars and directing loaders with their omnitools. Guards in uniform ranging from bland cream to the distinctive black and yellow of Eclipse roamed the outskirts. A few glanced over her ship curiously.

[Rebecca] raised her right arm and tested the nanites.

The illusion of a glowing orange omnitool snapped into place. She turned it off.

'Just like the Citadel, Aegis. Anyone but me comes in, give them nothing.'

'Acknowledged.'

She shut Veto down and collected some items from around the ship. Her prototype lightsaber still needed a lot of work and she'd lost her pistol on the Citadel, but – [Rebecca] stopped upon lifting her SMG. The biometrics didn't respond, and even if it had, she didn't have the port in her wrist anymore.

"Yup." She sighed. "No triggers really was a terrible idea."

She threw the guns in the back of the ship and locked the door. She double checked her skin – not metallic, good – and set her clothes to the same shade as her eyes and shifted its shape. Mass Effect version of Mos Eisley. Ditch the drab brown overcoat, going in Jedi robes.

[Rebecca] held her breath as she jumped down her air lock and heard it hiss closed behind her. The muggy heat smacked her in the face along with the smell of fuel, sweat and chemicals. She looked around. The guards were watching her and she could see some Eclipse jockeying with each other, a strange hand game that an asari won judging by her small fist pump.

The asari sauntered over, helmet tucked under her arm and easy smile in her merc yellow and black. "Edeena," she introduced herself with a light tap on her collar bone. "So you're the shuttle arrival?"

[Rebecca] nodded. And here comes the bribe collector. "How much?"

She wasn't even going to bother with trying to haggle or beg off on paying. Not like it was her money. She might feel different when it was her money, but right now she had no qualms throwing Nassana's hard earned cash at people.

"Just so you know, shuttle space is kind of valuable…" Edeena began, still smiling.

"I figured," [Rebecca] said dryly. She brought up her 'faux' omnitool. "How much?"

"The price of two drinks at the Midnight Lounge."

[Rebecca]'s eyebrows rose. Roundabout way to specify a bribe. Okay, fine, whatever. Extranet search for the Midnight Lounge. She made a show of typing away at the omni-tool, cringing slightly as it didn't make the slight 'blip' noises a real one would have. Top of the line place, it looked like. Menu, ah, there we go.

"Here you go."

The asari mercencary looked at her quizzically. "There I go what?"

"The money for two drinks?"

"Ah," she faltered slightly, then rallied. "I was actually thinking that business would go better if we actually went there, together."

"Together." [Rebecca] repeated. Shit, she was going to be pressganged into Eclipse! What did she do wrong, what'd she do? "I – "

"Yes, you," Edeena pointed. "And me," she laughed lightly. "How else are you going to buy me those drinks?"

Now, it was [Rebecca]'s turn to be confused. "But I just gave you – "

The asari stared for a moment, before her face flickered in realization and broke into a wide grin. "You – you're adorable." She chuckled, shifting her helmet from one hip to the other. "I'm asking you on a date," she said slowly. [Rebecca] froze. Then the asari held up her free hand. "Unless you don't go for anything but other humans, I get it – "

Oh. She was – she was being hit on by an alien. She could handle this. This was no big deal.

"No, I – I mean, yes, I –" [Rebecca] stopped and palmed her face. Spend a moment to fully switch tracks, halt alternate processes, get rogue threads out of the dark side of the extranet. Running internet searches with your subconscious was not a good idea. "You don't even know my name," she muttered helplessly, staring out between splayed fingers.

"Sorry," Edeena said unapologetically, shrugging with one arm. "Saw something I liked."

[Rebecca] opened her mouth, and then a thought came to her. "This might be an odd question depending on the answer, but…does my skin look blue to you?"

"No?" Edeena said, uncertain. "But you are really exotic looking and have this kind of…aura – I mean your eyes and hair color – "

That was…

[Rebecca] found herself smiling slightly. Getting complimented on her looks felt…nice. It made her feel a bit more human. How many organics had she had a real conversation with, face to face, since waking up? Did Saren count? Even if she counted all of the exchanges with C-Sec on the Citadel, she had fingers left. Just Virtual and Artificial intelligences.

Friends that weren't computers would be nice. An Eclipse merc really wasn't her first choice, but she couldn't be picky, right now.

And, hey, contact number one. "Two drinks?" The asari nodded. "Give me back my money then."

Edeena grinned.

The streets of Nos Astra were made of a dark purple material, with streetlights embedded in the softly raised curbs at the edges of the path. Walking on it were humanoids of every species just getting on with their lives. They were the average Joe's of this world while air cars of the influential hurtled through the air above them. From the bottom, the skyscrapers were awe-inspiring. She'd spent the first couple minutes outside craning her neck and extending her telescopic vision trying to see the tops, until she noticed Edeena smothering laughs at her rubbernecking.

Illium's status as a melting pot was obvious from the street level, she even saw a few Hanar floating around on their levitation packs. Turians in mercenary outfits or workers. Batarians in cliques. She saw humans who always made a point to acknowledge her in some way, a wave or a nod. She saw a Drell but soon lost track of him and an elcor on a scooter thing, honking the horn while coming this close to simply running over people, but the majority were asari.

Asari that kept looking at her.

Now that she was paying attention, [Rebecca] could clearly see nearly every asari in range giving her second looks. The older ones just seemed various shades of curious, but the maidens were the reason [Rebecca] was currently considering electrifying her pants. That way the next one that couldn't keep her blue hands to herself would pay for it.

"Why is this happening?" [Rebecca] asked Edeena, not quite pleading but close to it. Without the Eclipse merc, her estimated chances of getting mobbed on the streets were depressingly high. Edeena seemed to be on the older side, not quite a matron, but in that age range of several hundred years with dark teal skin. She stepped in to fend off the really grabby ones with a glare, but otherwise didn't look the slightest bit surprised.

"Please tell me you know why this is happening."

Edeena's lilac eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gave [Rebecca] a once over before shrugging, "I have excellent taste?"

"Nooooo."

The merc laughed and reached over to nudge [Rebecca]'s shoulder. "If I had to – wow." Edeena stopped walking. "Wow," she repeated, her eyes wide and fixed on the point where her hand rested on [Rebecca]'s shoulder.

That triggered a faded recollection. Asari had a biotic sense.

[Rebecca] now had very high-grade biotics to go along with her asari skin layer, including whatever surface glands it had. She stifled the groan. So they were hard to control, troublesome to deal with, and asari catnip.

Perfect. That's just what she needed on Illium.

"It's a bit like touching a matriarch," Edeena mused, rubbing with her thumb. Okay, the touching was a bit uncomfortable. [Rebecca] cleared her throat and she got an apologetic smile as the asari took her hand away. "I didn't know humans could get like that."

"I didn't know asari could get like this," [Rebecca] countered.

Edeena gave her this half-lidded look with a lazy smile, and she did not need to run the numbers to figure out where the merc's mind had gone. [Rebecca] rolled her eyes, stopping whatever lewd sentence was about to come out of Edeena's mouth.

"You know what I mean." The lazy smile didn't go away, so she snorted and made a show of looking around. "Are we close to it?"

A teal finger pointed skyward, "We'll have to take a shuttle car, but yeah, pretty close."

[Rebecca] nodded and absently motioned for Edeena to lead the way with a fluttering of her fingertips.

The shuttle stop was just like the Citadel version. A large plot with unused cars blocked off by a waist high median, and thin stand with the destination list displayed on the orange haptic interface screen. The difference was that the Citadel cars were blocky and functional looking, while these cars were flashy and sleek in bright colors like hot rod red, gold and silver.

It could have just been the difference in her sensation quality and nerves, but the seats even felt more comfortable.

" – the Midnight Lounge is the place to go in East Nos Astra," Edeena was saying. The asari was leaning back, right arm spread along the back of the seats and her left holding the helmet in her lap steady. "There are other places almost as good, but they don't have the same mix of atmosphere, class and drinks. You'll like it."

"And we don't need a reservation or anything?" This still felt bizarre. Her memories told her that Rebecca handled relationships by running away until the problem gave up. Edeena wasn't exactly the kind of person she would even give the time of day to: a member of a criminal mercenary group, likely a murderer. Probably not doing drugs because Asari seemed immune to many psychological dependencies – she would really like to take a look at their brains – but that wasn't saying much.

If she hadn't un-lucked out with being interesting, Edeena would have been the one pressuring her for a bribe and probably forgetting all about her once the money transferred.

"Nope." Her mouth twisted. "That's what separates the high-class places from the exclusive joints. The Midnight just wants people who can spend the money."

[Rebecca] nodded. "Makes sense."

"I've got to ask though," Edeena tapped her fingers on the seat. "What the hell kind of ship do you have?"

[Rebecca] raised her eyebrows. She expected questions about why touching her got that kind of reaction, or something about the sheer amount of attention she'd been getting on the street. Personal questions, seeing as how they were, apparently, going on a date.

[Rebecca] still wasn't sure how she should feel about that. Surprised, still. Self-conscious. Definitely awkward. "That's what you're curious about?"

"I figured you'd tell me your name, if you wanted to eventually."

[Rebecca] winced. "Ana," she gave the name she'd attached to one of the bank accounts. "And my ship is a renovated antique."

"I'm surprised that piece of junk could even fly."

Don't make fun of my ship!

[Rebecca] sniffed, fixing Edeena with a hard stare before turning her nose up. "Well, it does."

"Obviously," the asari smirked. [Rebecca] could feel a slight heat build in her cheeks as she ducked her head. Shit, why were the nanites reacting? What were they doing? Edeena casually checked her omni-tool, probably watching the time. "Old human ship?"

"Prothean."

Edeena's eye ridges bounced in surprise. "Really? Huh." She looked at the car's roof, visibly thinking. "Why'd you bring it here?"

"Is it going to get stolen?" [Rebecca] asked a bit snidely. A second later, she realized that this was her Millenium Falcon moment, defending her piece of junk ship.

"You could probably sell it to a rich Hanar for a few mil," she shrugged. "It'll take a bit to find one crazy enough, but I could see it."

[Rebecca]'s mouth opened, then closed. Selling her ship for starter capital hadn't even crossed her mind, and now that it had, she didn't like that idea at all. It was her goddamn ship.

"Didn't even think about it, did you?" Edeena observed.

"It's mine," [Rebecca] defended herself weakly, shuffling about in her seat. "If I'm desperate, maybe, but I don't plan on ever being that desperate." Because otherwise, this cycle was fucked.

The asari's smile faded slightly as she met [Rebecca]'s eyes. "No one ever does."

The silence after that was awkward, at least [Rebecca] felt that it qualified for an awkward silence but she didn't know what she could do to fix it. She went to the extranet but 'How to talk to people that are interested in you' not only varied wildly among species but it was frustrating that she had to look it up in the first place. She wanted to talk to people, and now that there was a person that wanted to talk to her, she couldn't do it.

She could create a persona, like she did on the Citadel to help her. A surface personality layer. Or she could…she could change herself to make it easier. She would need to talk to people, had to be able to convince them to work with her, or at least work together.

[Rebecca] took a deep breath and squeezed her knees before letting go. She kept blazing through relationship articles and branched out, further, into leadership and politics. It would be just like that time trying to learn how to fly through a Mass Relay; she shouldn't let herself hold her back.

Tenet Number One: There is no ignorance, there is knowledge, she remembered faintly. She didn't need to keep struggling.

She could make herself better.

Okay, okay, first on how to make small talk with someone you like – she flickered through online magazines until she found someone that seemed to know what they were doing, which was a krogan journalist: Find out what they like to talk about.

"You said…East Nos Astra," [Rebecca] started.

"Hmm?" Edeena turned back from where she'd been staring out the window.

"You said Midnight Lounge was the best place in east Nos Astra." The words came easier as she edited herself, small changes scraping off the nervousness and reluctance. "What's the best place in all of Nos Astra?"

Edeena's eyes lit up. "Well, it's not much to look at, but Eternity near the exchange has some great mixes, but the Millenium in the Valley is to die for. You need to schedule six months in advance and cough up a month's salary, but worth it…"

The Midnight Lounge was huge. [Rebecca] had seen some pretty roomy restaurants, cafés and lobbies, but this place blew each and every one of them out the water. The entrance walkway was a straight path with hover platforms in the center of the circular room. Levels were carved into white stone and open to the middle so people walking in could see the current patrons behind glass and gold plated railings, two below them and the other two rising up like a hotel lobby. The center was dominated by a tall, twisting sculpture that arched above them spit water in dizzying patterns. Smaller booths behind tinted windows were at the very top.

The Lounge was perched on top of a thin tower as a large disc, like the Berlin TV tower she remembered seeing on a postcard once. She had a moment of wondering if Berlin still had that tower in the twenty-second century – easy enough to check, yes they did – before the maître d' approached them wearing a black number lined with silver.

Everything was dripping with class and expensive tastes. And there she was, dressed like Anakin Skywalker.

"Just two?" The asari smiled warmly at her but didn't let her gaze linger. Thank God for small mercies. "Booth or table?"

Edeena chose neither. "Going up."

"Ah, of course." She stepped to the side with the small tilted head bow and her arm swept out along the path behind her. The other end of the walkway was a large sky elevator on the outside of the tower, showing off the Nos Astra skyline. "Enjoy."

Just before the sky elevator, [Rebecca] saw someone familiar out of her peripheral vision. Was that - ?

Nassana Dantius was on floor three, talking fiercely at her omni-tool, looking like her dinner had turned to ash in her mouth. Aww, did someone just find out that her main account was now worth ten million credits less? [Rebecca] heightened her hearing sensitivity, and filtered background noise until she found Nassana's voice print.

Yes, someone just did.

[Rebecca] smiled.

"Someone catch your eye that wasn't me?" Edeena asked teasingly, pushing [Rebecca] the rest of the way into the elevator.

"Schadenfreude," [Rebecca] volunteered. Did it count when you were the one causing the misery?

She was inclined to say yes.

"Shaduh what?" Edeena looked at her quizzically as the doors closed behind them with a soft chime, and the elevator started to move.

[Rebecca]'s processes stumbled.

"I – It means enjoying the suffering of others," she explained haltingly. Translator error? Maybe humanity didn't use that word too often anymore or she was – shit. She'd automated her languages. How long had she been speaking in low asari? This whole time? Did Edeena notice that the supposed newcomer had an Illium accent? [Rebecca] swallowed. Might as well keep going with it.

"Dantius of Dantius was not having a good evening back there." [Rebecca] thought that it took a certain level of egotism to name your company after yourself, especially when your company Dantius Corporation made biotic pharmaceuticals.

Tony Stark at least had an excuse for his big head.

Edeena rolled her eyes. "Someone saying something bad about her on the extranet?"

[Rebecca] felt the minute nudge of her developing social programs. "Her face – " and shifted her expression into the same bulging eye, gaping frown look Nassana had been wearing and Edeena broke into barking laughter immediately.

"Yes! Exactly like that." Did that mean Edeena was one of the Eclipse mercs taking contracts with Dantius, or was she looking too much into that comment? "If the woman's not careful, she'll hit matriarch looking like that." The asari's eyes shifted. "If she lasts that long."

From [Rebecca]'s point of view, that was a really big if.

It probably wouldn't involve Shepard storming the incomplete Dantius Towers in search of Thane Krios for a suicide mission, considering how her luck with game 'accuracy' had been working out lately, but Nassana was going to piss the wrong people off. It was only a matter of time.

Speaking of game accuracy. She checked for Dahlia Dantius, the sister from the first game that had been blackmailing Nassana while running her own slaving and pirating operation.

'Lost' in the Terminus, no ongoing search effort.

Did that side quest even happen or was Dahlia still out there, blackmailing her sister, snatching slaves and being an all-around bitch? And, now that she was thinking about it, her conscious was never going to let it go until she found out. Somehow. The jury was still out on whether she'd get away with taking Nassana's money, but maybe she could get away with invading her privacy for her own good?

Another thing to put on the list.

The Lounge was that kind of club where you felt the music long before stepping foot in the place. The sky elevator was already vibrating with a beat far below the typical asari hearing range. [Rebecca] could see the appeal immediately. The physical pulse was practically caressing her nerves and asari skin was sensitive. Even if they couldn't hear the sound, they could sure as hell feel it.

"So how long before I go deaf?" [Rebecca] asked loudly as the elevator slipped into the bottom of the Lounge disc. Holy crap, the tertiary vibrations were making noise. Her mind flashed back to young punks in New York, blasting the bass so loud you'd swear their car was about to fall apart.

"Long enough!" Edeena yelled back.

The doors opened and [Rebecca] walked into The Afterlife v 2.0. Like Aria's club on Omega, the Lounge was darkly lit in reds with the weird pole dancing suspended circle…thing in the center and two floors studded with alcoves to leave room for the dance floor and circle bar right in front of the pole dancing circle.

That was…that was going to be a bit…she didn't have to look, right? It wasn't like she was here to ogle people, not that she wanted to, but it seemed like everyone sitting at the bar was watching, like the poles weren't just poles but super-magnets. Was she going to look weird being the only one not looking? Why was she worrying about this? It wasn't like it was a guarantee they were going to sit there. She was perfectly capable of keeping her eyes where they belonged and according to Jasher of Clan Grot's dating advice, dates didn't like it when you looked at other people anyway.

She was safe.

Edeena dragged her over to the bar.

"Tulo!" The asari called as [Rebecca] swore under her breath. "Gimme the special!"

"Hey, Eddy," the barefaced turian behind the counter grunted, turning around to grab vials from the expansive rack behind him. "Thought you weren't into humans."

"Exception."

Oh for – the nanites in her cheeks were acting up again.

"Oh!" Edeena said, spotting someone. "Wait here."

[Rebecca] glanced around the Lounge. The patrons were significantly less high class than downstairs but that didn't mean they looked scruffy either. Civilians in tight clothes and dresses milled around along with mercenaries that didn't look like gutter trash; well maintained and clean armor with their guns away.

[Rebecca] zeroed in on a sudden commotion. A human merc slamming on the table to rocket out of his chair, lighting up with biotics.

" – cause I have a fucking headache!"

The turian that had been bothering him was softball pitched over the railing to land on the floor below in a heap and oh my fucking god, that's Kaidan Alenko.

She didn't have access to his service records, they were sealed after all, which meant he was still with the Alliance, maybe? But he hadn't been on the Normandy, which was really good because that meant he wasn't at Virmire or Ilos but what the hell was he doing here?

Kaidan waved off the bouncers, glaring around and caught her staring. A strange look passed over his face, almost recognition before he turned away to sit back down. His omni-tool lit up as the asari next to him reached over to rub his forehead.

[Rebecca] looked away. Filter through the wireless network to find his omni-tool. Could be nothing, but there was no reason for him to recognize her, was there? Found it. Now, what was he searching for –

There was a search order on her!?

No, search order for Zulaika Sareem. That made sense, they had what she used to look like too. Was – was her old body intact? And Aegis had taken the ship, they probably thought she was some kind of Terminator. And search order wasn't too bad, they just wanted to find her, not like they were sending Spectres after her or anything.

Relax. Breathe. Act casual.

"So," she addressed the turian bartender, Tulo. "Anything interesting going on?"

He stared at her blankly.

"You could…check the news?" He wandered away, shaking his head. "Why are humans always asking me that?"

[Rebecca] sighed, trying not to look as awkward as she felt sitting there at the bar, guarding Edeena's drink like a dragon curled around a hoard of gold. The 'special' was dark, smelled minty, and looked like it would have a reputation as a real killer of livers and wallets alike. A dancer had wandered over and was trying to get her attention, but [Rebecca] kept her eyes on that glass like it was going to sprout legs and walk away if she so much as blinked.

Kaidan Alenko's omni-tool had gone back to its inactive state, but she didn't want to tempt fate by turning around and peeking. There was really nothing she could do about it; if she was pinging his 'wanted person' meter, she'd just have to deal with it when the time came. But she could keep tabs on him in other ways.

[Rebecca] reached out to the extranet, and filtered all of the hits on Kaidan's name. It looked like he was still stationed on a ship, but the MSV Chekov wasn't an Alliance warship. The naming scheme was all wrong for one, the other giveaway was that it was noted as belonging to a small human mercenary company operating in the Attican Traverse. And by 'operating' she meant violent requisitions and giving Batarian ships bloody noses. The "Repo-men" were minor heroes on the frontier colonies.

Kaidan was a privateer.

Good for him, [Rebecca] thought. Not at all what I was expecting, but good for him.

"You sure you don't want to watch?" The dancer called down. "Maybe a more...private showing?"

"I'm good, thanks," [Rebecca] squeaked. She didn't have quads, but Jasher was very insistent in his advice that sneaking peeks was usually worth a hard kick in them. Even when you thought your date wasn't looking, especially when you thought your date wasn't looking because the moment you did, BAM. A varren's breakfast. "Don't mind me."

"You taken, babe?"

"Uh, yes." Where the hell had Ed - oh, there she was. [Rebecca] wasted no time in pointing. "See?"

Edeena placed a flizzly drink in her outstretched hand, an exasperated smile on. "She's shy," she called up to the dancer as she scooped her own drink off the counter. "Using me to scare off maidens again?"

[Rebecca] snorted, slipping off the bar stool. "If I could shoot you at maidens, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

The corners of Edeena's eyes crinkled with amusement. "You sure know how to make a girl feel appreciated."

"Thank you very much for the timely rescue," [Rebecca] intoned, tilting her head down reverentially. "My hero."

"You're lucky you're so cute," Edeena sighed good-naturedly. She turned, taking a sip of her drink and gesturing with her free hand away from the counter. "Let's grab a proper seat."

Edeena's definition of a proper seat was a corner booth on the second floor with a clear view of most of the Lounge and right underneath one of the booming speakers. The sound waves passed over their heads creating a muted bubble, the wall the speaker was mounted on vibrating sending a thrum down [Rebecca]'s back. Edeena sat next to her, kicking her feet up and letting her helmet roll around on the plush leather cushion until it settled.

"So," Edeena shrugged languidly. "I just have to say, your asari is pretty good. Probably better than mine," she snickered around the rim of her glass. "Not that mine was good to begin with, but there you go."

So she did notice. Son of a bitch.

"Would you believe that I learned it from watching movies?"

Edeena swallowed quickly and set her drink down with a small sputter. "No. Really?" She looked at [Rebecca] with wide eyes. "You've got to be - you're not shitting me."

[Rebecca] bought herself some time by sipping at the drink the asari had gotten for her. It was mildly fruity, with a carbonated sizzle that left a spicy aftertaste on her tongue. She couldn't taste the alcohol in it, but seeing as how it was all going into the generator anyway, that didn't really matter.

"I must have watched Blasto 3: Illium Skyline at least a hundred times." Drop the zeros and that would be accurate, not that anyone needed to know that. She wasn't entirely sure that was the one the other [Rebecca] had watched, but it sounded good and would help explain the Illium accent.

Edeena whistled a low, looping note. "If an asari told me that, I'd assume her father was a Salarian." She tipped her glass and took a long pull. "But humans don't work like that, do they?"

[Rebecca] tapped her fingers inward to her palm. "It's a gift. I also know Palave Turian and working on the main Sur'Kesh Salarian dialect."

"Damn." Edeena looked her over. "How old are you?"

That was a loaded question. The difference between [Rebecca]'s age and that of the Alliance CMO she'd been built on was a little over four decades. Her memories had yet another age with her actual appearance a lot younger looking. Compromise?

"Twenty five." As soon as the number left her mouth, [Rebecca] inwardly cringed. Was that still too young? It probably was too young. If you tried, you could pack a lot of life experience in a few years, but even if it was technically possible, it was going to raise some eyebrows. Fluency in two alien languages as well as being a pilot with a Prothean ship was definitely eyebrow raising.

Not like she could just volunteer being an artificial intelligence.

"Genetically modified," [Rebecca] explained, shamelessly stealing Miranda's line from Mass Effect 2. "I'm very good at anything I choose to do."

[Rebecca] could see the look Edeena was giving her. For a moment, the asari looked like she was going to prod further, but then her face cleared as she leaned back. "And they let you escape Alliance space?" She nodded out at the dance floor. "To come here?"

"I practically grew up on the Citadel," [Rebecca] lied, making up some of Ana's backstory on the spot. She had a bit of an advantage there, it wasn't as if she was going to forget her lies. "It's as good a place as any for a fresh start."

"Well, if it's work you're looking for." She tapped her glass against her armor.

"I'm not really the...mercenary type." [Rebecca] paused. "No offense?"

"Ha," Edeena grinned. "Good call. Sederis would eat you up," the grin twisted a little. "Probably best you avoid her. Still." She drained her glass with a satisfied hum, smacking her lips. "What were you planning on doing? You're not selling your ship, you aren't joining one of Illium's illustrious private security groups…"

[Rebecca] still had her list of names. Extranet searches could only do so much for the big picture and, well, Edeena was here and friendly. She couldn't see how it would hurt anything to get a second opinion and narrow down that list further. She pulled up the file and scrubbed it of her research, saving it as a new document containing just the public profiles. The nanites came to life as ordered, displaying her 'omni-tool' as she pinpointed Edeena's network address.

"Here."

"Your phone num - " Edeena's lilac eyes widened as she looked at the file. "Fayure D'Mal, 'Gold' Pezun, Matriarch Velara?" She looked up, her mouth opened and then closed before her eyes narrowed. "Tell me this isn't a hit list."

"No!" [Rebecca] blurted out, nearly spilling her drink all over herself. "How could you - no!" She huffed. "It's a potential employer list."

"Employ - Ana." Edeena gave her a pitying look. "These are some of the people that own Illium. As in the planet. You can't just walk up to them and ask them to hire you."

"I'm not going to ask them to hire me."

"Oh, whew, so what - "

"I'm going to ask them to buy me."

For a long moment, the merc seemed to forget how to speak, just a long hiss of strangled air escaping her.

"That's even worse."

Meanwhile on the Citadel

"The only name we have for it right now is 'Rebekha.'" Vyren Palatus swiped her omni-tool in front of the thick door and typed in something that went by too fast for Shepard to see. The Spectre was spindly like all turians and in her armor looked just as formidable. She was a bit less broad than her male counterparts, slighty shorter and her head crest was rippled instead of spiked. It reminded Shepard of Asari head crests, if they were all fused together as an earth-toned carapace. Vyren's clan markings were a sea-green and dominated with horizontal slashes across her narrow eyes.

The door hissed open, and the female turian waved for him to follow. "I believe you about Veto, by the way."

Shepard sighed loudly, twisting his upper body to allow a C-Sec officer to brush by. "What did it do now?"

"Military exercise with ships we thought were clean."

"I thought it was supposed to protect those ships?"

"Wrong." Vyren lifted a taloned finger, circling it in the air. "It's supposed to attack anything that attacks those ships."

Yeah, that was a pretty important distinction. "So it saw two ships attacking each other…"

"And decided the best way to resolve that was destroy both of them." Vyren tilted her head. "Needless to say, the exercise was called off immediately."

"And we can't get rid of it?"

"Short of flashing the systems and reinstalling everything? Not yet." Vyren's eyes rolled in their deep-set sockets before coming back to her original topic. "The Council had some pointed questions for your Ambassador Udina since Rebekha seemed to prefer the human form, but the man was useless." Shepard scowled and bit his tongue.

There could be many reasons for that. Humanity were the new kids on the block and weren't nearly as entwined with Council space as the rest of the races. Colonies were still being set up and not all of them under the direct purview of the Systems Alliance. Private Citizens and corporations were staking claim to habitable worlds, entire families receiving an offer and then just packing up and leaving. If you were born and raised on Earth, you didn't even get a 'Council ID' until you took a trip to Citadel space or signed up with the military.

Cut through the Attican Traverse frontier to the Terminus and back, a human gynoid like what he'd seen could stay off the grid for a long time. No one would bat an eye.

Vyren glanced back at him and paused, as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she shrugged. "It was noted that it's chosen moniker could be a human name meaning 'snare'…" she said leadingly as she turned a corner.

Shepard nodded. "Rebecca, yes. It's fallen out of style."

"It's nearly identical phonetically to an asari title. 'Rebekha' means 'Defender.' Interesting contrast, there."

The remains of the giant 'Reaper' warship had been towed away with ships to Palaven to keep under guard and study, but it still left a good part of the Presidium crushed and unusable. The Citadel Security headquarters became the new hub almost overnight. The hallways were packed with STG teams, military personnel from both the human and turian governments, and a few Spectres on assignment. Shepard knew for a fact that there were going to be some investigating the Geth for every advantage in case they turned out to be a bad gamble. Others were probably swiping Prothean relics from the Terminus Systems, and some lucky sons of bitches like him and Vyren were stuck with the big question mark:

The Citadel AI.

Vyren Palatus was going to oversee his first mission. Tradition, he was told.

That meant there was a betting pool on 'Saren's new rookie' running in the background.

The turian himself had tried to have his cybernetics removed, adamant about it. Last he heard, they were so extensive that taking them out would literally kill Saren, no chance of recovery.

And they shared the same technology design as the Reaper.

Meetings were restricted and watched. Matriarch Benezia and Miranda had left yesterday, having exhausted their visitation times and released from questioning. Shepard himself had gone through a battery of questions about Saren's capabilities and mental state. No one called it a detainment, but it was obvious what was going on. Shepard loosened his hand, having unconsciously clenched them into fists.

This was so damn fucked up.

The two Council Spectres slipped into a large darkened room with a large, round analysis table in the center and orange haptic screens and interfaces at every chair. Shepard held the door open for a Salarian that scurried in behind them, receiving a blinking thanks in return, and followed Vyren up to the table.

This was one of the 'think tank' rooms for C-Sec's cyber-crime department, and at the moment, it was almost empty with only a few people seated. The handful of Salarians were no surprise, the elcor Shepard had to admit was a bit of one. He'd heard they used advanced VI extensively in their military but didn't make the connection to them being virtual intelligence experts until he saw their lumbering forms peering over the chairs in front of them, omnitool visors over their eyes. There were a few older looking Asari and turians leaving Shepard the only human.

Vyren activated the table, bringing up what looked like a standard ID file of an asari in her matron stage of life from the Sanves colony. Some weapon licenses, place of residence and travel markers. "See anything wrong here?" The turian Spectre asked.

Shepard could feel his eyebrows rise. What did this have to do with the Citadel AI? "…no?"

"Two mistakes," Vyren stated flatly. "The first are the gun licenses. Specialized equipment needing permits makes sense if you live on the Citadel or are part of a race that cares, like humans. Asari are all biotic and the Republic is made up of city-states with their own private militaries. No one cares who has a gun." The screen zoomed in on the problem area, just to rub salt in the wound. "An asari colonist? Do human colonists care about gun permits?"

Considering their friendly neighbors were the cuddly and generous Batarians?

"Maybe a little."

Vyren nodded to herself. "Didn't think so. Second mistake: Sanves is a restricted colony. Something about protecting the ecology from rapid expansion," she said quickly, waving it off with a distinct air of 'whatever'. "The point is, you can't just be from Sanves. You have to get approved and if you're born there, you get put on the approved list anyway so you don't get blocked from going home if you leave." She nodded towards the screen. "We checked that list. 'Zulaika Sareem' isn't on it."

Shepard saw his chance to make up for earlier. "Would I be right in assuming that the list is linked to the Citadel database?"

Vyren's mandibles fluttered as she gave him a sideways look and nodded. "You would be. That should have triggered alerts, but it didn't. The Customs officers swear it went through and got the green light which makes no sense…"

"Unless it didn't go through," Shepard finished. "The ID was spoofed somehow."

This time, he knew for sure that the mandible movement Vyren was smirking. He was too used to the mandibles literally not being an issue. Saren's mutilated face had ruined reading turian expressions for Shepard forever.

"Sareem arrived at the Citadel less than four hours before the Citadel AI did. Her ship was unregistered with a navigation record leading back to the Terminus. The only reason anyone cares is because she claimed to have a Prothean database."

Shepard sucked on his teeth. Prothean databases were huge. The cache on Mars had catapulted humanity from being trapped on Earth to the greater galaxy with the discovery of Mass Effect technology. In as little as a few decades, they'd gone from backwater hicks to a power the Council had entrusted with the defense of outer Council space.

The Battle of the Citadel had completely upset the status quo, and thanks to the Fifth Fleet, humanity was getting its chance to shine.

"Did we get it?" Shepard asked. "The database."

"She escaped protective custody during the AI's attack. Her ship was seen participating in the Battle, but has since disappeared."

"So, no."

"No," Vyren said bitterly, eyes narrowed to slits. "Tarina Ves of C-Sec had submitted Sareem to protective custody in the first place and her report says that our mystery person was actually human." The Spectre looked down at her omni-tool briefly. "Black hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Sound familiar?"

Yes, yes it did.

"The synthetic body."

"We're looking at an infiltrator, Shepard. No one caught on. Ves' report made a point to comment on Sareem's near perfect asari impersonation, including language cues."

And if you were a program, why make just one chassis?

"There could be another one out there."

Vyren smirked again. "There is at least one. We got an anonymous tip earlier today, a lead on another infiltrator." Vyren straightened and gestured towards the table. "Everything we have on the AI is in the database here. The VIs on the Citadel were purged, but we've got a copy you can activate if you want to try to work that angle." Vyren pointed a sharp finger in his face. "That VI stays on that database. Don't give it an escape vector, understand?"

Shepard nodded, feeling his gut roll a bit with pre-mission jitters made even worse at the thought of walking into another trap.

Vyren examined him intently for a moment or two, then gave him his personal space back. "We leave day after tomorrow, oh-eight-hundred hours."

"Where to?"

"Illium."