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Chasing Ghosts

A Mass Effect Novel

Evil does not always have an ugly face. Even the deepest wells of darkness in one's heart can be masked by nothing simpler than a charming smile.

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Thanks to the folks at BioWare for creating all of these wonderful alien races.

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** Prologue**

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1. Homecoming

The view of Palaven from the portside cargo bay of The Halvmaen was exquisite as the sun began to rise (or set, Rithe was not exactly sure) over the far horizon, casting a beautifully golden glow that lit up the turian's face handsomely. He stood silently as he gathered his gear, adjusted his gauntlets, and plugged in his amp. It snapped in with a pleasurably snug click at the base of the back of his neck and he shivered, feeling a gentle shock as the eezo nodes synced together throughout his spine. Rithe flicked his first finger around in a small circle, a delicate ribbon of blue biotic light ejecting from his finger and dancing before him, giving off a low trill that caused him to shiver. He let it dissipate and headed to the docking bay, tipping his head to his crewmates.

Well, the turian crewmates, anyway. Rithe didn't understand what the hell the batarians were doing here, and he sure as hell didn't care for their superior attitude. The Halvmaen was a turian ship, had been for the last twenty years, but suddenly these four eyed freaks were allowed to waltz into her and take over? He liked humans better than batarians, and that was saying something.

He'd expressed his concern to his friend, Xeriln, but he didn't seem to care much. In fact, he had abruptly changed subjects and seemed to be defensive, but Rithe simply assumed the old man didn't want to talk about it.

He entered the mess hall and dropped into one of the seats against the far wall and closed his eyes, leaning his head back and resting it against the cool metal hull. His usual gentle headache was coming on, the one he always got after plugging in his amp, and while it wasn't nearly painful enough to inhibit his productivity, it was just painful enough to be irritating as hell.

"Rithe! Hello! I, uh, I mean, good day, sir!"

Rithe opened one eye and gazed at the gray skinned salarian that was now heading in his general direction. The young technician hobbled over to Rithe and gave him a quick and comical salute which softened Rithe's attitude and the turian smiled and patted the seat next to him. Rithe couldn't seem to figure him out, or the salarian's apparent obsession with him, but a little company was welcome nonetheless.

"Hey, er..." Rithe cast a nervous smile at the Salarian, and mumbled something that he hoped sounded like his correct name.

"It's Ilwen, sir."

"Right, right, I'm sorry, Ilwen."

The Salarian frowned but perked up quickly as if he had forgotten, his greenish-blue eyes almost shimmering with delight. "It's fine, no problem, how are you? Long time no see."

"Yeah, it has. I've been fine, got a bit of a headache, the usual ones I told you about."

"Ah yes, with your biotic amp, I wish you'd let me tweak it. I'm sure I could work something out to help you."

Rithe raised his hands, "No, no, that's okay, it's uh... under warranty, yeah, warranty. If you mess with it, I won't be able to return it if the problem keeps up."

Ilwen grinned boyishly, "But I could fix it!"

"No, Ilwen, it's fine."

"Aw, well if you say so. You excited to be home again? I'm excited to see Palaven for the first time! Is it as hot as they say? I hope it's not too hot. I modified my suit just in case, though. When do you think we will be landing?"

"Oh... in three slow, annoying hours, I think."

"I'm sure they'll fly by, to pass the time, how about you tell some of your stories? Those are always fun to listen to. You will, won't you?"

"Well, I was going to have dinner..."

"Aw, I'm sure you can have something better on Palaven. Please? Please?"

Rithe had a split second thought of putting a bullet in his own head, but let out the frustration as a thick sigh, and began, the words flowing out of him in a lazy monotone.

"Well, all right. We were on Rosimir-"

"Hot; a heavy, humid atmosphere that is oxygen based, but contains particles poisonous to foreign life forms; breathing units and air filters required; in the Larikas cluster. Average day is forty-one hours..."

Rithe waved his right hand dismissively. "Yes, exactly, thank you Ilwen. As I was saying..."

A group of indigenous flying beasts screeches overhead as they fly by and Rithe feels an overwhelming urge to claw his eyes out and can't imagine how the horrible noise would sound if it wasn't partially muted by his helmet. He still unconsciously brings his hands up to his face and places them on the side of his helmet as if it will help, but the beasts and - thankfully - the sounds have passed and all he can hear now is Xeriln's coarse laughter. The older turian is shaking his head, seemingly unfazed by the beasts' cry, and Rithe can almost see him smirking as if he got satisfaction from Rithe's pain.

_ The air - what little there is - in Rosimir is extremely humid, still, and most importantly,_ hot. His suit's atmospheric regulatory function has failed and has stopped cooling him. Add to the fact that the heat has somehow managed to sneak its way into Rithe's suit along with heavy humidity that leaves him sticky and wet, making for one pissed off turian and he has to mentally beat away the thoughts of just imploding his own head to get a little relief.

_ Rithe laughs and Xer looks at him a little worriedly, half expecting the heat to have finally fried the younger turian's brain, and he readies his gun just in case he has to put the biotic out of his misery, but Rithe almost reading his superior's mind, raises his hand and twirls it impatiently in a_ Can we get through with this already? manner. Xer grins and claps the biotic on the shoulder and takes aim with his rifle, his right hand dropping down in front of Rithe's face, making complicated twists and turns - hand signals which Rithe deciphers without a word.

_ _ Two. Soldiers. One with an H-76 Reaver, a missile launcher, the other no visible weapons, probably a biotic.

_ Rithe can picture them perfectly and readies himself. He closes his eyes for a split moment as a wave of ecstasy erupts through the cord of eezo nodes in his spine as they sync up. When he opens his eyes, he is completely focused and time seems to have stopped and there is no noise other than his own mental voice saying something he doesn't understand. The words either make no difference and he doesn't need to hear it, or it makes all the difference in the world and he already knows it._

_ All he is focusing on right now is his enemies and the mass effect field he will create that will lift and swing them around like a couple of zero gravity tap dancers; but for now any thought irrelevant from killing passes from his recognition and he whips his right arm before him, his entire form surging with power and glowing the characteristic bluish purple as his quarry is lifted into the air and flails about helplessly._

_ The panic in their eyes is like a refreshing drench of ice water over his body, and for a moment he feels his plates resonate with a pleasant shiver before he pulls himself back into cover. He hears their whooping hollers of panic that instantly devolve into wet gargling death-cries as fountains of blood and bone marrow explode from their chests in two brilliant crimson bursts._

_ In a quick panic, Rithe turns, preparing to attack again but he recognizes his partner, Xeriln whose mastery with the sniper rifle is unmatched in Rithe's platoon as he has just demonstrated. As Rithe comes down from his gentle high, the mass effect field dispersing and dropping the corpses like limp rags, he rolls his shoulders and casts an admiring glance at his partner. The two of them make their way to the still smoking corpses and relieve them of their grenades and thermal clips, and Xer disassembles the missile launcher and scatters the pieces, then makes a crack about their not needing anything where they're going; and Rithe laughs more out of politeness than genuine humor. Now that the bliss has passed, he feels the same empty guilt left behind from killing of which no amount of military training can wean him. But for now, he and Xer have a job to do and no time in which to do it now that the shots have been fired._

_ All Rithe hears next is Xer crying out something, followed by a loud thunderous crack, then a quick burst of pain that snaps through his skull as his protective barrier disintegrates the bullet fired at him and flickers in intensity. In surprise, he falls backwards and scrambles to nearby cover and Xer follows after he puts three bullets in the enemy sniper._

_ _ "Shit, Rithe, pay some fucking attention, worthless!" Xer cries out angrily and makes a mental note to punish the turian later, but for now he whips his rifle around and ends another sniper's life with a shot that rockets through the valley with deadly precision.

_ _ ("I never liked that jerk. He always came off as a hard ass to me, I don't know why you look up to him, I wouldn't," Ilwen interjected, and began to say more, but Rithe hushed him by raising his hand, and then continued.)

_ Rithe is paralyzed with shock and for a moment lays on his back panting, but a quick thump on the forehead of his helmet by the butt of Xer's rifle jerks him back into reality; and he gets to his feet and crouches next to his superior who scans once more and then pulls the younger turian to his feet, then shoves him over and stuffs the barrel of his rifle under Rithe's chin._

_ _ "Do you want to fucking die? Because I can save you the trouble of taking me with you!" He presses the muzzle of the gun hard enough against Rithe's chin to clamp his mouth shut even through his helmet. "I'm not hearing a no, you worthless, arrogant fool!"

Rithe swallows hard and clenches his fists but the uncanny click of a trigger causes him to go limp, and what little movement he has, with a fucking barrel stuck against his chin ready to blow his brains out, he uses to shake his head and Xer lets up and pulls him to his feet. Rithe knows the old man would never actually shoot him.

_ Well, he_ hopes_, anyway._

_ _ "Come on," Xer commands and they both dart from boulder to boulder, keeping cover; and Rithe makes sure to double- and triple-check his surroundings this time lest he actually catch a bullet.

_ One way or another._

_ _

_ The building has long since been eroded by the fine grit and sand that constantly blows on Rosimir and what was once most likely a decent looking structure has now rusted and now the metal shell creaks with the voice of one close to death._

_ Rithe shivers, half-wondering if the building_ is alive and is currently dying and a harsh bark from Xer lets him know to keep moving, and they enter silently through the airlock. Rithe sighs with great relief as he removes his helmet, the derelict building still much in working order as waves of wonderfully cool air rush over him. Xer does the same, his deep burgundy face paint smeared and running from the humidity inside his own helmet. Rithe wonders how his own face paint looks but quickly returns to the mission at hand, readying himself while Xer switches his sniper for an assault rifle.

_ _ "It's too quiet," Rithe whispers and quickly dodges Xer's swiping fist, seeing his superior's one command:

_ Shut the hell up and keep on guard, worthless!_

_ Rithe nods quickly and shuts his mouth, raising his pistol and laying it across his chest, a pose he adopted from human literature he had perused during his younger years. His other hand is ready, trembling in anticipation and wanting for another burst of bliss from his unleashing his biotics._

_ Xer peeks around a corner for a split second then signals again in his complicated hand signals. There are three, fully exposed, and with another signal, Rithe knows to take care of the two on the far left and he ducks behind and crosses over to cover with a better view of his victims._

_ The usual wave of bliss erupts through him as he thrusts forth his right hand and pulls it back, yanking away their weapons with invisible force, their expressions turning from panic to horror as their weapons disintegrate into a thin mist. He plugs one in the head with his pistol and the other in the chest and they fall limp, their eyes glazed over in the same terror as before. Xer caps the other, filling him with enough holes, as if he needed to make sure his target was truly dead._

_ Rithe watches him and sees that he, too, finds some kind of sadistic pleasure in killing, and Rithe wonders if he experiences the same guilt later, as well._

_ _ "Too easy, like they aren't even trying, well, what do you expect from freelancing idiot kids," Xer says, more of a condescending statement than any form of a question and Rithe looks at him again worriedly.

_ He and Xer exchange a glance and the older turian scowls, wiping away some of his smeared face paint, and the pattern left makes Rithe shiver. The deep red lines have melted and run down his face. It looks like blood._

_ It looks like a death mask._

1. Homecoming Interrupted

Rithe and Ilwen were thrown from their seats as the ship came to an abrupt stop, seeming to convulse in pain. Rithe got up quickly and scowled, and helped the young Salarian to his feet.

"Just as you were getting to the best part, we have to land, I hate how it's always like that, don't you? I do..." Ilwen frowned and crossed his arms and began to pout.

Rithe shrugged, wondering about the turbulent descent as the ship gave another heave that threw Ilwen back off of his feet, face first into the steel wall, and Rithe almost plummeting too but managing to keep his balance. He again helped the grumbling Salarian up, who began to start whining again but Rithe pressed a hand against his mouth and pulled the boy against him.

"Be quiet," Rithe said firmly in hushed tones and his eyes narrowed. "Something isn't right, have you seen anyone... no, you've been too engrossed in my story haven't you? Stay here."

Ilwen began to speak but Rithe shook his head curtly. The Salarian finally understood and looked over his shoulder worriedly.

The pair listened carefully, and off in the distance Rithe heard the unpleasant grumbling of batarian voices. The turian drew close to the ascending stairs to the upper bridge and peeked his head around, and finding no one there, he proceeded up them slowly. As he neared the top, he jumped back as the door suddenly opened and a rain of bullets pelted his barrier. Without thinking he sent his assailant flying with his biotics, and grimaced as he heard a wet snap of broken bones, followed by a cry of alarm.

Rithe rushed back down the steps, grabbing Ilwen who had darted over when he heard the shots fired, and dragged him over to the escape pods. He threw the Salarian boy inside and hopped in himself.

"What's going on? I heard shots! Are we under attack, did we get boarded? I bet that's what the turbulence was for!"

"Ilwen, please, shut up!" Rithe said curtly and the Salarian obeyed. He sat still, his heart pounding hard against his chest, and watched for the first signs of movement. "Batarians, I knew it, shit, shit, shit! How the hell..." He hushed quickly as the first few batarian soldiers entered the mess hall and Rithe ducked behind the escape pod's door, pulling the Salarian against him again, his hand over the boy's mouth. When the patrols passed and Rithe heard the hiss of the medical bay door closing, putting them out of earshot he whispered, "Ilwen, get us out of here. Now."

Ilwen, a thankful calm and understanding overpowering his usually rampant mouth, waved his Omni-Tool over the controls and jumped in surprise when the pod's doors snapped shut and the pod shook violently as it rocketed away from The Halvmaen.

Rithe leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. "With any luck, they won't notice a missing escape pod until we're long gone and have reported in to the admiral. Set our course for... Wystrien... That isn't Palaven. Shit! Where are we? That's not Earth, is it?" He looked hard at the blue and green planet, then at Ilwen who went to work quickly on his Omni-Tool

"I uh, it's Borlaran, in the Tulaith cluster. Good lord, we're on the other side of the galaxy!" Ilwen's eyes darted back and forth in panic. "Oh god, oh god, oh-dear-sweet-god, we're in trouble, we are so fu-"

"Ilwen, calm down, is there anything about this planet I should know?"

The Salarian shook his head, "No, no, it's relatively comfortable, it's colonized mostly by humans."

Rithe sighed, "Better than batarians, I guess. Oh, no, wait let me guess; they hate aliens don't they?"

"Not hate," Ilwen fiddled with his Omni-Tool, "But they aren't exactly welcoming. Says here they usually avoid contact with non-humans. But we've not enough fuel to get anywhere else, it's the best chance we have, sir. We're close to one of the main settlements; it says here on my Tool the place is called Brenn's Rock."

The turian put his hand to his forehead and sighed, closing his eyes. "Right, well, try and get in contact with them, if you would please, and set a course to land."

Ilwen nodded, and went to work. Rithe leaned back and flicked his forefinger around, a gentle calm coming over him as the thin ribbon of blue light danced before him. Below, Borlaran spun lazily, a hurricane forming over some ocean. Rithe hoped that wasn't an omen.

* * *

"Sir, reports show that an escape pod was ejected, we assume it was the turian who killed Nakarn," the batarian soldier named Nirth spat out the word turian venomously, regardless that his superior was, too, a turian.

"Leave it, and leave me. They'll either burn up in descent or die to the humans," the turian replied and when Nirth left, he crossed his fingers and rested his hands on his desk. "Maybe you aren't as worthless as I thought, Rithe."

Book I

The Colony at Brenn's Rock

1. The Itch

Annike Niemen wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her forearm - or rather she tried to, but the gauntlets of her armor suit only served to smear it around and add on a glob of grease, painting her forehead a splotched, milky grey. She rolled her eyes and straightened her back before hefting her shovel over her shoulder and trundling over to the makeshift marquee tent to escape the unrelenting summer heat. She was the only soldier left who hadn't suffered from a heat stroke, effectively leaving her to be the last one suited to dig this fucking pit to level the fucking land to place the new fucking cabin on.

"And I'll bet a goddamned month's worth of pay that they will make me set up the crates in the cabin, too. That is, if I don't catch heatstroke next," she growled before spilling her canteen of water onto herself. "Bad enough it's upwards of one hundred and four degrees, sundown isn't for another three hours, and to top it all off I'm talking to myself..." Annike chuckled humorlessly and picked up her second canteen and downed half of it in one gulp. "They'll be sorry when I'm lying in bed talking to the ghost of my mother and thinking I'm dating Ud-... Christ I don't even want to finish that thought. And I'm... still talking to myself."

Annike surveyed the partially leveled plot of land, the uneven mass of brown dirt glaring back up at her tauntingly and for a moment she thought to just leave it. The cabin was a luxury anyway, nothing more than storage and really, if the crates weren't weatherproof already then someone wasn't doing their job correctly. And on top of that, she was a soldier, not a... landscaper or whatever the hell! She was there to put bullets in the varren, those overgrown rats, or batarian pirates. But no, this freak heat wave just had to incapacitate all of the actual workers and most of her squad mates, leaving her to dig and level, dig and level.

Dig and level.

What a fine mess this was, she a soldier, the last soldier posted at this colony that currently wasn't lying on a cot, bathing in his own sweat. No more than three months ago she was working on the Citadel and one slip up puts her out in god-knows-where. She scowled and squeezed the handle of her shovel so hard her knuckles popped; the next time it wouldn't be a bullet in the leg. The next time he wouldn't limp away as she was detained by her fellow officers, her friends. She knew the truth.

She looked to the eastern horizon, the huge star Bristorn finally beginning its descent below the horizon, a welcome sight even if nightfall was still so far away. Overhead, a something streaked through the sky. Annike watched it with mild interest as it grew brighter and continued to fall, although she could have sworn she saw some sort of propulsion thrusters firing, and it might have even slowed down and changed its descent course. She pushed those thoughts aside, chalking it up to the heat again, and with a heavy sigh she hoisted up her shovel and went back over to the partially leveled plot and began working again.

1. Descent

Ilwen was asleep, but more importantly he was quiet, and that was fine with Rithe. The turian himself was beyond pissed off now that everything had sunk in, and he searched for a word strong enough to describe his absolute fury and could find none. Instead, he sat quiet and fumed over everything that had happened. He anxiously tapped his left foot with increasing force until he was nearly slamming it upon the floor and he had to tell himself to stop, and even then he started to incessantly drum his fingers on his knee. Borlaran drew closer and closer and Rithe watched as the hurricane he had seen earlier swarmed over the large ocean toward a small island like it was going to devour it whole, and the thought made Rithe shiver as he again hoped it wasn't an omen.

He kept running the past month over and over in his head - every conversation and every stray comment he could remember - looking for any sign that anything was amiss aboard the Halvmaen. Aside from general dissent among his fellow people toward the batarians (which, really, what else would you expect?), nothing seemed out of place. For some reason, thoughts of Xeriln kept coming back to him, and he felt they were important for some reason, but the revelation constantly eluded him. For a moment he felt the need to mourn, that the death of his superior was absolute, that it signaled that things were not okay: that there was neither a cavalry nor was this a dream. He felt himself growing angry again and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

The turian looked toward his and the salarian's destination and could see tiny pinpricks of silver and brown in clusters. His mandibles flexed in anticipation and he mumbled to himself.

"What? Did you say something? Are we there yet? No... can't be," Ilwen said sleepily and then blinked a few times before looking out of the escape pod's window.

I almost break the floor with my foot and mumbling wakes you up? Rithe thought and chuckled. "We'll be there soon, I think. Hell I don't know, you're the techie, you tell me."

Ilwen frowned and fiddled with his omni-tool for a moment, "Okay... half an hour at most. I've already sent a message to them and we've permission to land but uh... well it's more like they won't shoot us out of the sky, really. They want to meet with us, make sure we won't cause trouble."

Rithe rolled his eyes, "All right, no problem. I can't say I wouldn't act the same way to be honest."

The salarian nodded and lay his head back down on one of his arms against the terminal's desk and closed his eyes, and before long he was napping again. Rithe returned to looking back down at Borlaran, the clusters of silver and brown growing larger, and he almost thought he could see tiny vehicles traveling newly made roads to and fro, throwing up dust and rocks. Near one of the colonies, he saw a large cloud of brown and red dust, and it took him a few moments before he realized it was a herd of what looked like varren, and then another moment before he saw them dissolve in a cloud of fire and smoke. He cringed and watched as two vehicles stopped nearby, surely to perform clean up and to gather up what was edible.

Rithe frowned and moved away from the window, bringing out a bottle of water and downing it in one large gulp. He surveyed the rations that was standard for every escape pod, and what would most likely be his only source of food for a while (he half hoped the humans had the prudence to supply foods for turians and quarians, but he wasn't holding his breath); luckily Ilwen had more liberty with his diet; and although it wasn't much, Rithe wasn't too worried. He could easily live six months off of this supply; a year if he spread it out even further. Surely that would be long enough to find a better source of supplies, befriend the humans, or get the hell off this rock.

The pod's thrusters fired, slowing the last half of the aliens' descent through the atmosphere, and a steady droning vibration picked up through the metal hull and consequently Rithe's head, which brought on another of his usual headaches. The turian groaned and leaned back, placing a hand on his forehead and closing his eyes.

When next Rithe awoke, it was to the hiss of the airlock as Ilwen activated it, and Rithe felt a spark of worry at his blackout, and a sharp flash of pain erupted through his forehead as he made the mistake of looking at Borlaran's setting sun. "How long was I out?" Rithe asked.

"Not long, we just arrived. I was going to let you sleep since it's been a long day."

Rithe nodded and hoped it really was just a nap.

"Speaking of which, nightfall appears to be just a few hours off. Should we just stay here and meet the humans tomorrow?"

Groaning again as another twinge of pain shot through his head as he stood up, Rithe replied, "No, we will go and meet them tonight; if we wait they will just grow suspicious. I would if I were them."

Ilwen nodded and began to make a comment at his superior's comparing himself to humans, but kept quiet lest he anger the turian. Instead he worked his omni-tool and signified toward the east, and took after Rithe as the turian let out another groan and began moving.

"Another headache?"

Rithe grunted his agreement and drew his backup pistol and handed it to Ilwen, then drew his own. "You know how to shoot, don't you? Not that we will have to, I hope, but just in case. Oh, and if anyone asks, I'm just a soldier. Don't mention anything about my biotics, understood? Not likely that it will matter, or that I'll have to use them, but just in case, always nice to have a trick or two." Rithe grinned and plugged in his biotic amp, rolling his shoulders as it snapped in.

Ilwen took the pistol and fumbled with it clumsily. "Yes, sir."

The turian's eyes narrowed into thin purple slits and he looked ahead into the distance, then back at the boy. "Well, let's get going then, eh?"

"Yes... sir," Ilwen replied and swallowed hard before straightening up and putting on a firm face. He stumbled forward.

Rithe drew his own pistol and held it against his chest as he walked aside the nervous salarian. The boy kept casting him sideways glances as they pressed on, and the feeling of uneasiness grew more and more inside him until he was literally shaking in his boots. The turian continued along steadily, his eyes moving barely, if at all, from the horizon and the path ahead. If what he had seen actually turned out to be what he thought he had seen, then he would have to be quick.

The path continued on in a fairly direct line, and the place in question was drawing ever nearer and again Rithe thought he saw movement ahead... yes, there was definitely someone sneaking about, a human female from the looks of it.

She needs to work better at not being seen if she wants to get the jump on us, Rithe thought and continued, turning to Ilwen and giving him another half smile, and a firm look of confidence.

Ilwen's already moist skin grew clammier with each step and he had to focus completely to keep from looking terrified. Of course he couldn't know what his superior knew, but if they both had to be armed to walk down a seemingly innocuous path, then something definitely was going to happen. His hands trembled gently and he held the pistol against his chest, causing his already awkward walk (for he had a bit of a limp for some reason he no longer remembered) to take on a shambling gait he hoped wasn't suspicious... although their walking armed and alone was suspicious enough, he figured. A soft whisper of assurance from Rithe helped him relax, but he still kept the pistol clenched tightly and at the ready.

Somewhere deep within, he knew something was soon about to happen, and he may not be a good shot, but he would fire until the thermal clip in his weapon grew white hot and molten and burned his hands. He kept on regardless; all he could do now was have faith that Rithe wouldn't let him die. Ilwen kept occupied by kicking a pebble a few feet in front of him each time he took a step.

In the next second, everything happened so fast, Rithe had to retell it multiple times before Ilwen could grasp it.

The first thing Ilwen acknowledged was the screeching cry, then the shots fired, and finally the demon, or banshee, or whatever it was silhouetted against the darkening horizon. The form was feminine, but Ilwen could only glance at her for an instant before he felt himself being pushed up and to the side, and a single bark from Rithe forced him to cover his head and stay down.

Her breath came out in ragged bursts and she held her rifle crookedly, but at that close range neither a misfire nor Rithe's barrier mattered. Point blank was point blank.

The turian biotic held himself steadily, eyeing her with both caution and concern as he aimed his pistol at her. A bluish shimmer of his biotics still enveloped him in ghostly flames; his eyes especially having a sinister glow.

He spoke calmly, almost compassionately toward her. "Now miss, I know you don't really want to harm us-"

"You're right, I want to kill you," she retorted through clenched teeth.

Rithe ignored her as he tried to remain as calm as possible, "We are guests here on your planet, the leaders of the colony Brenn's Rock know of us and we have made preparations to meet and seek shelter until such a time as we can be removed by our own superiors. We..." Rithe's voice trailed off as the female toppled over, letting out a straining groan.

1. Sun Stroke

Annike found it harder and harder not to think about whatever it was that she had seen streaking through the sky an hour ago. She would push the thought away but it would come back when she least expected it, and in full force as if someone was screaming it inside her head; usually causing her foot to miss the head of her spade and knock it askew, creating a crooked gash in the otherwise mostly level plane of dirt.

Cursing, she smoothed over the fifth crooked hole she had created and started again, digging and leveling, digging and leveling, and again the thought would drift off only to come back at her. God how could something be so persistent, so annoying? And damn the heat!

Giving in to her curiosity, she went over to her makeshift camp and picked up her rifle and looked through the scope. She scanned the area near the fallen object and didn't see much. Her hands were shaking - oh great, here comes the fucking heatstroke! She poured the last of her canteens on her head and looked again. Movement, sure, but she just figured it was some animals. Letting her curiosity get the better of her still - she found it increasingly harder to think of anything other than the heat and these animals - she continued to watch them, nothing more than two small shadowy figures, as they shambled nearer along the road.

As they drew closer, she narrowed her eyes and said to herself, "That's no animal; those things've got guns. But... just a pistol... no," she blinked lazily, "A fucking bomb!"

Smoke swirled over her eyes and for a second she felt as though she was falling, but she pressed her palm against her forehead until it passed. She'd be damned if she was going to let some piss ants come and ruin her hard work! She'd been digging all fucking day, hell, week - part of her thought it had been forever since she started digging and god damn this heat!

"I'm going crazy... I'll probably die, but I'm taking those bastard assassins with me," she snarled and hoisted her rifle over her shoulder and began in a clumsy run toward the figures, tripping over rocks and her own feet as visions of bigger and more elaborate weaponry and more figures began to cross her line of sight.

When she was finally upon them, she howled in fury and drew her weapon and fired at the smaller one, missing him as he flew off to the side. She snarled in fury and aimed at the larger one, putting his glowing and ugly fucking mug right in the sight of her rifle. His eyes seemed to glow with demonic fury, a bluish purple that - if she had been in her right mind - might have terrified her.

She heard him talking, and managed to reply on pure instinct as she had no idea what either he or she, herself, was saying. Suddenly she felt the world come up to meet her at an alarmingly quick pace and had a split second of recognition that she was on the ground and couldn't move, and then she blacked out.

Rithe looked at her and blinked deliberately to make sure he wasn't imagining things and when it became apparent that she really had just passed out, he holstered his pistol and helped Ilwen to his feet.

"Hm, sun stroke, I think," Rithe said casually and gathered her up into his arms. "Well, let's get her back to her camp."

"You're going to take her with us? She tried to kill us!"

"She never would have been able to; trust me, even if she had been able to shoot straight." Rithe smiled.

Ilwen shrugged and holstered the pistol and was busy with his omni-tool, scanning his aching left arm for fractures or other injuries - he had landed on it when Rithe had tossed him out of the way.

Up ahead was what appeared to be the girl's camp, a rather poorly erected tent under a more poorly erected marquee aside a large flat plot of dirt. Rithe wondered what it was for.

"Looks like she was leveling off the land for that storage cabin," Ilwen pointed to it, and then looked up at Rithe. "Weird that she was the only one."

Rithe nodded and went over to the girl's tent, setting her down inside. He proceeded to carefully remove her armor and laid it out on the ground nearby. Ilwen went to work tinkering with it as the cooling system must have obviously malfunctioned, he figured, causing the girl to overheat which brought on her manic attack.

"Her name's Annike Niemen, by the way," Ilwen said absently as he worked.

Rithe nodded again silently and found a nearby rag and, after drenching it in water from his canteen, wiped away the sweat and grease from Annike's forehead. He stood up and stretched, then left the tent and Ilwen to his work, and went over to the flat plane of dirt.

The turian walked about the edge of the squared off piece of land a few times, and then picked up Annike's shovel and began working. After thirty minutes of digging and leveling, he, too, found himself ready to fall over and succumb to the heat; and felt pity on the girl in the tent as well as admiration that she was able to hold out as long as she did and he had no doubt in his mind that she had leveled most, if not all, of it on her own.

After yet another hour of work, he had finished and had set up the cabin (it was equipped with a miniature mass effect generator, allowing it to levitate and be moved easily), and had begun moving the crates inside. When he had set down the third large crate, he wondered why he was even doing this work, but shrugged.

He sat down inside the storage cabin and leaned back against one of the crates. He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. It was easily twenty degrees cooler in the cabin - which still put it at a sweltering seventy degrees - than outside, but Rithe welcomed the relief and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

* * *

Annike sat forward and started in surprise when the damp rag fell onto her lap. She held her pounding head and waited for the urge to vomit pass before looking around. A salarian was staring at her and she looked at him dully.

"What? Never seen a half naked bitch before?" she asked and stretched.

"I... what? No, I mean," Ilwen fumbled with his hands and stammered.

Annike laughed and stood up, "You're uh, you're that kid I shot at, sorry about that. Believe me you looked a lot more threatening when I was dying than you do now. Assuming I'm not still dying, that is."

Ilwen shook his head, "Not dead. Close though, you were suffering under delusions brought on by a heatstroke. The cooling systems of your armor suit malfunctioned due to the extreme heat, ironic right? But I fixed it and calibrated it to withstand higher temperatures; so it won't be a problem anymore."

"Thanks kid, I'd pay you if I got paid," her lips turned upwards in disgust. "But in the meantime, don't suppose you could let me get dressed, huh? Go find your buddy. The tall guy. Turian, right?"

Ilwen nodded and darted out of the tent, then over to the newly erected supply shed. Inside he found Rithe still napping, and he shook the turian's shoulder gently.

Rithe woke up quickly and almost drew his pistol before he realized it was only Ilwen. The salarian boy jumped back a few feet, but when he saw his superior greet him with a quick nod, he helped him up.

"The soldier's awake, sir, she's getting dressed now."

The biotic nodded and went back over to the girl's tent, Ilwen following close behind. Annike was already in her full suit of armor, holstering her rifle as they approached, and she eyed the turian warily.

"You actually do still look as threatening as you did before," she began and laughed (Rithe looked at Ilwen confusedly, but the boy shrugged and shook his head), "Next time how about taking me out on a few dates before you undress me, 'kay?" She laughed again. "We human ladies like to be wined and dined."

Rithe furrowed his brow but made himself laugh anyway. Better to keep on her good side, he thought. "Sorry, I'll keep that in mind. You recovered rather quickly, about two hours? Impressive. But I'm glad to see you up and on your feet regardless."

"Would have sucked royally if the first contact you had with someone here was their dying, right?" She laughed again, "No, I've always been a rather stubborn bitch. I still feel pretty shitty, but heatstroke ain't gonna put me out, not while there's things to do, wrongs to right, people to kill; you know, so on so forth." Now that's something we can agree on, Rithe thought and nodded, grinning bitterly as he recalled every comrade's face that was stationed aboard the Halvmaen. He put forth his hand and the human shook it.

"So, you're not slavers - you don't look like you would be, anyway," She looked at Ilwen, then continued, "You said you were guests or some such? Pardon my memory, my brain was being baked at the time."

Rithe smiled cordially and nodded, "Yes, we seem to have, ah, had some trouble with our craft and had to make an emergency landing here. We've already contacted the leaders at Brenn's Rock to use their long distance communications device and they've agreed on the terms that we have a formal meeting with them first. Anything there seem out of the ordinary?"

"Honey, you're a turian, he's a salarian, you're on a planet of human colonies that sees, oh, little to zero of either ever, unless it's pirates, so yeah, it's a little strange."

Rithe chuckled, "I suppose you're right. But either way, nightfall is soon, so I think it's best we get to Brenn's Rock. I don't think they'll want to be kept waiting."

"They can shove it up their ass for all I care," Annike said scowling but started alongside Rithe and Ilwen, crossing her arms behind her head.

1. The Double-cross

"So, most, if not all, of the soldiers and workers have heatstroke, eh? That explains a lot. I trust they won't all..."

"Try to kill you like I did? No, I was already mad at the world when you and your buddy managed to waddle along carrying pistols that looked like bombs. The rest of them are lying in cots puking and sweating."

Night had fallen nearly thirty minutes ago and already the temperature had plummeted until each of three companions could see his breath before his face. Ahead, Brenn's Rock sat squat and fat on the horizon, lighting up the night sky. Rithe could see the colonists moving to and fro between the buildings as he searched for the headquarters. He found it after a moment, the biggest and brightest of the square flat buildings, and he thought how typical it was; but nonetheless he walked along faster, Ilwen and Annike following closely.

"So, I take it Brenn is either the current leader, or he founded this colony, right?"

"Actually, I think Brenn is the name of the founder's son. Kid died or some such. Nah, the leader's name is Nick, which is appropriate as it rhymes with weasely little dick."

Rithe chuckled. "You speak harshly about him. Funny, but harshly."

Annike snorted, "I work for the Alliance," she pulled out her dog tags and held them up, then tucked them back into the neck of her suit. "Not for him."

Rithe furrowed his brow, "Then why are you here?"

The soldier huffed, "Get to know me better and I might tell you."

"All right, all right." Rithe said. "I take it you don't like him much."

"Nope," was her only reply.

The three on along in mostly silence, Ilwen naturally being the one to make random comments about the colony as it drew closer.

* * *

When the three reached the gates an hour and a half later, two women who looked more like farmers than soldiers met them, each holding a rifle awkwardly. Rithe cast a glance at Annike who looked just as puzzled and shrugged.

"Right, you, turian?" One of the women said, casting a glance at the other to make sure she had said it correctly, "You and the other alien are supposed to meet with Master Rowels, and we are to relieve you of your weapons."

Rithe's eyes narrowed and he began to make a comment but stopped himself and drew his pistol and retrieved Ilwen's and tossed them at the girls' feet. They jumped back and then the one who had spoken nodded and they were allowed passage.

"I told you all the soldiers were currently in bed talking to their dead great aunts. Not sure why you had to surrender your weapons though, but I'm sure it's nothing."

Rithe was glad he left his amp plugged in and nodded.

"Don't worry, if you get scared I'll hold your hand, or let you touch my rifle, 'kay?"

They continued on and Rithe noticed many of the children stared at them in wonder as if they had never seen an alien before. And, the more he thought about it, the more he figured that might have actually been correct. The adults paid no attention. He still felt strange, as if he were being examined, but he still made sure to toss a friendly smile at them now and then. Ilwen almost looked as though he wanted to run off and play with some of the kids, and for a second Rithe wondered how old the salarian was, but figured every one of them must retain some sense of childhood due to their rapid aging and short lives.

As they approached the large cabin - and Rithe felt satisfaction that he was indeed correct in assuming which cabin belonged to the leader - they were met with the object of Annike's disgust.

Nick Rowels stood at an unintimidating five-foot-two and was perched upon a porch that hovered over the trio. He wore a tired, gray suit that had one time been darker, perhaps even black, but countless years under the planet's intense sun had faded the fabric, but still managed to make the man look charming. He leaned against the railing, his right arm stretched out in welcome and his smile was dazzling; and Rithe wondered why Annike had spoken about him in such a way.

When he spoke it was with a light accent that Rithe couldn't pinpoint (although to his credit, he didn't really know many human accents), and even his voice was charming. "Mistah Kanithan, young mistah Merszin, ah, and you brought us back our invaluable," he enunciated each syllable so comically in-value-able, that Rithe couldn't stop from chuckling, "miss Niemen; welcome to Brenn's Rock, I am Nick Rowels. Please, come inside my comfortable cabin."

Rithe tipped his head in greeting; Ilwen waved; and Annike only snorted loudly as they all squeezed into the master's cabin, the two aliens and soldier staying near the door. The turian was somewhat taken aback at the human's knowledge of his and Ilwen's surnames, but figured Ilwen had included it in his message. For a moment he wondered what else the human knew but pushed the thought aside.

"What brings you to our humble colony, gentlemen?" Rowels began as he dropped into a large armchair on the opposite side of the room. "Holiday?" ('Olliday?) Rowels laughed loudly and gazed at them with sharp eyes. "Forgive the colonists' gaze of wonder, it is not often that we have aliens - ah, I mean a turian and a salarian in our midst."

"It's quite all right; I imagine we must look rather strange to you humans, especially those who have never seen beings such as us. Regardless," Rithe shook his head, "Nothing so simple as holiday, Master Nick. You see, my companion and I seemed to have run into some trouble with our ship and had to make an emergency landing. I'm afraid our ship... is currently of no use to us, and we have naught but an escape pod, and as I'm sure I don't have to explain, an escape pod won't get us very far."

"Ah, I see, I see, so you wish to contact your fellows and retrieve yourselves, and your ship. Trouble indeed, though fortunate for us to have such decorated soldiers in our midst, what an honor!" Rowels smiled again. "You see, at first, Brenn's Rock was established to further the reach of humanity in this vast and wondrous universe of ours, but it turns out that there are those who do not look kindly at us and well, would see us dead rather than try any hand at peace; and as such, any and every attempt at diplomacy has been met with..." Rowels continued his speech, indulging himself.

Annike scowled and elbowed Rithe gently as Rowels continued talking, and she began to whisper, but Rithe cut her off, keeping one eye on Rowels who, by now, was gushing with adoration and pride over his colony, paying them no attention.

"Yes, I see them too, outside, near the windows," Rithe whispered. "Looks like your comrades made quick recoveries, too. Let's see what happens, shall we?"

The soldier began to protest but Rithe hushed her with a firm glance, and then placed his hand on Ilwen's shoulder.

"...So you see, your landing is quite fruitful for us all, as it will definitely blaze a trail for peace between us, and the powers that be," Rowels gazed upwards at the ceiling, as if looking into the stars beyond.

Rithe was silent for a moment as he pretended to think deep about the master's speech. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only ones in this system aside from yourselves, are batarians and krogan, neither of which have any interest in alliances with humanity. They're slavers, Rowels, slavers and mercenaries; peace with them is nothing more than a hallucination no more messed up than the dreams your soldiers, currently hidden just outside, were having no more than a day ago as they were dying from heat stroke... but you knew that already, didn't you?" The turian took satisfaction in Rowels' sudden wavering gaze, and then continued, "I would request the use of your communications, but I assume that won't be happening, will it?"

Rowels' lip curled upwards in anger, but he quickly regained his charming smile, "Perhaps under ordinary circumstances you would be correct, that peace is impossible, but when the leader of the Gray Equinox mercenaries finds out that I have you, I'm sure he will pay a fine, fine sum for your head. You have the choice of whether or not it remains on your shoulders."

"You're... you're taking us prisoner!" Ilwen cried out and clenched his fists. "To sell us!"

Rowels gazed at the boy, "Actually, you will remain here, my young genius. I will need a master technician to make sure the new equipment I buy for us with mistah Kanithan's bounty will be in top working order, yes?"

Bounty... Rithe thought. Why do I have a bounty on my head?

"I'll... tell the colonists!"

The master shrugged and smiled, "Go ahead, the mad ravings of a strange alien will hold no ground against my own familiar and friendly face. The colonists here will look upon me as a god, and once I make us rich and I gain the influence and protection of the Gray Equinox, well, let's just say my word will be rather hard to resist."

"In other words, you'll sell or kill those who speak out against you," Rithe said solemnly. "You are a weasely little dick."

The color drained from Ilwen's face and he gazed up at Rithe pitifully.

Rithe looked back down at the salarian and patted his shoulder. "Evil does not always have an ugly face. Even the deepest wells of darkness in one's heart can be masked by nothing simpler than a charming smile."

Rowels waved his hand dismissively, "Yes, yes, morals, good-and-bad guys, and happy endings; nothing more than silly stories and lies for children."

From somewhere behind, Rithe heard the clinks and shicks of a rifle being deployed, and without looking knew it to be Annike. He felt the barrel of her rifle pressed against the back of his head.

"Perfect, my dear. Do me a favor and put our prize away for safekeeping, yes?" Rowels said and grinned at the girl.

She nodded without speaking and pushed the muzzle of her gun against Rithe's head, spurring him onward. The turian did so without protest, and looked at Ilwen reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Ilwen, just do as they say for now," he said quickly and quietly as he passed the boy.

Ilwen frowned grimly and allowed himself to be led away.

As Annike led Rithe, she shooed away her comrades. "You boys look like you're ready to piss yourselves, get back in bed until you're at one-hundred percent, got it?"

They each did so without comment, and Annike continued leading the turian prisoner to a chain of empty cabins that doubled as the colony's holding cells.

Annike narrowed her eyes and looked at Rithe's neck carefully seeing various scars and knots left behind from surgeries. At the base of his neck, just below the collar of his armor suit, was a circular port, no larger than an inch and a half in diameter. "Oh, you're a biotic, are you?" She said quietly as they walked along.

"Yes. So you see, even without my pistol I'm far from helpless, I hope your little cage is sturdier than the rest of this camp, but if what I've seen is any indication, I won't hold my breath. Say your prayers tonight, girl."

"Oh cut the dramatics, Rithe. Where's your amp?"

Rithe smiled and Annike lowered her rifle, throwing it over her shoulder. They continued on, however, to the holding cells.

"It's in a pocket. I didn't want anyone to see it. For all Rowels knows, I'm simply a soldier."

"I know this'll sound horrible, but this is actually a good thing for me, I'm glad my hunch was correct. I knew he had been up to some shady business, but now once I find proof and report this to the Alliance, I'll be off this hellhole and he'll be rotting in prison. You're welcome to come with me if we make it out alive," Annike said.

"That is horrible; you do know that, right?"

Annike smirked and shrugged. "Rowels is the only crook here; the civilians are ignorant to his plans. He will keep it that way. Everyone here came to Brenn's Rock to do their part in forging peace between humanity and you guys: turians, salarians, what have you. They won't want to ally with mercenaries. They want peace, not fear. The soldiers here are good boys too, with families; they're just in need of money. Rowels probably let slip the word 'credits' a few too many times, so they're ready to follow him to hell and back." As they neared the prison cabin, Annike raised her rifle again. "Stay put, for tonight. I'll find the boy and explain everything to him, too."

"No, don't. He's better off thinking we're screwed for now; it's best if only you and I know. I'll keep quiet tonight, and if you aren't here tomorrow at noon, or if Rowels gets impatient, I'll have no choice but to..." Rithe plugged in his amp.

"Boom?"

Rithe nodded, his violet eyes glowing softly. "I have to get out of here. No more playing around with children like Rowels who think they can barter my life, or my comrades'. If I have to turn him inside out, so be it."

"Something big happened with you and Ilwen, didn't it?"

The turian grinned and echoed Annike's own remark, "Get to know me better, and maybe I'll tell you."

"I'll hold you to that. But for now, sorry to have to put you in jail, but damn if it doesn't bring back memories," Annike said as she stood in the doorway of the prison cabin.

Rithe walked over to a nearby bench and sat down obediently. "Go. Do what you need to do, just remember, noon."

The soldier nodded and shut the door. It slid closed quickly with a loud hiss. "Don't die, Rithe."

1. Night at the Colony

Ilwen allowed himself to be led away quietly and made no protest when they locked him into the eerie, quiet hangar which housed several decrepit Mako's. He was too depressed to put up a fight, and walked around the hangar absently, getting used to what would no doubt be where he would live for the next twenty years or so, or until he was of no further use to anyone. He looked at each of the various vehicles, covered with day old varren entrails, dust, and mud. He cringed.

During the walk over here, one of the soldiers had drunkenly read off a list of tasks for Ilwen to complete, and after walking around the hangar a couple of times, Ilwen set out to complete them. It was best to keep busy until he was too tired to be scared. He worked constantly with his omni-tool, fixing various errors in the colony's water storage and pumping system, heating, and repairing the Mako's. He saved cleaning them for last, and scraped off the dried guts and gore with something that looked like a rake and shoveled them into the corner. He looked down at the foul smelling pile and dry heaved a few times before vomiting violently. Wiping his face - and it did help calm his upset stomach, at least - Ilwen walked back over and looked at the cleaner Mako's.

That having taken all of two hours, the salarian lay down on the makeshift cot that one of the soldiers had set up near the door. He continued looking through his omni-tool for anything that would help if by some great miracle, they were rescued. Aside from a few offensive tech abilities, he had nothing, and he sighed. He was never good at fighting but as a last resort it was definitely better than nothing. Hacking the armor suits of the soldiers was a better idea, and, Ilwen admitted to himself, a safer idea; so he optimized his tool for offensive abilities and crossed his arms behind his head. Now that he was finished with his work, the feeling of hopelessness and desperation started to creep up on him again. He started up his omni-tool again and tried to make yet another call to C-Sec but to no avail - the colony's own communications tower was blocking all other signals. Ilwen sighed and just absently browsed through his tool and on a whim, tried contacting Rithe. He blinked in surprise when the message went through, and even more so when Rithe replied a few moments later.

Ilwen, you need to sleep.

_ _ Ilwen responded quickly, frowning and repeating the message out loud to himself - a habit he had picked up long ago. "I can't, Rithe. How can you just say that? How can you be so casual?"

Getting upset and panicking won't help anyone.

"But we... we're screwed unless a miracle happens. I can't believe we save her life and she betrays us."

Don't worry; I've got it under control. And don't be so quick to hate Annike.

_ _ "What do you know that I don't?"

Just be ready.

_ _ "Ready? What do you mean ready?"

Ilwen waited, but Rithe stopped responding. The salarian sighed and closed his eyes, placing a hand on his forehead. "Well, in retrospect, finding offensive tech was a good idea."

He looked at a nearby old terminal and waved his omni-tool. The terminal's screen flashed brilliantly, and then went out with a loud crackling hiss. Ilwen narrowed his eyes and waved his tool again and the screen flickered back to life after a moment.

"At least I'm still good at hacking; let's hope armor suits are just as easy... They won't be, but let's hope anyway."

He lay back down and tried to sleep but couldn't. Instead he stood at the hangar door, gazing out of the window at the colony. The electric torches standing alongside the roads gave off an eerie glow, but somehow it was soothing as well. They mimicked the flickering of ancient flame torches and Ilwen gazed at them and couldn't stop the tiny smile that formed across his lips. He found himself thinking that they represented a spark of hope, and thought himself foolish and poetic - neither of which that could help Annike, Rithe, and him. No, when morning came, the first chance he got, he would have to take it.

* * *

Annike walked casually back to Rowels' cabin and let herself in. The master was sitting at his table sipping a glass of cheap wine and he looked up at her admiringly.

"You know, for a second I thought I was going to have a pretty girl to sell to the mercs, too. But I'm glad you finally decided where your loyalties lie."

"Let's see, a pretty comfortable life, versus a life as some batarian's bitch. I think I'll take the comfortable life, but that's just me."

"Ah, I still have not gotten used to your... sarcasm, but I'm sure in due time you will curb that as well as your trigger finger. Wouldn't want another one limping away, hm?"

Annike clenched her teeth to keep from flying off into a rage at him, and he looked at her smugly.

"You can find out anything about anyone for even the smallest amount of money, my dear," he said and sipped his wine again, then poured himself another glass.

"I'm sure," she replied and while he was not paying attention, she looked around the cabin for his data pad. She found it, sitting on his nightstand, and moved closer nonchalantly, forcing conversation to keep him occupied. "And you're sure these mercs will pay you, and not just put a hole in your head, as well as my head, and everyone else here, and simply take the turian?"

"True, I have no reason to believe they will pay me. But ah, well my dear, on the one hand we have me, a simple human colonist bumpkin who has, by some miracle, captured a decorated and dangerous turian soldier. Imagine my delight and, dare I say, giddy laughter as I read the salarian's distress message and saw the very name of the turian that the mercs in this system had posted a bounty for, no more than six hours prior? And he falls right out of the sky and into my lap!That will garner respect if nothing else; mercenary groups have some sense of honor, the Gray Equinox more so than others. So I'm not gravely worried. However, on the other hand, we're all going to hell, if I take the express way then so be it."

Annike huffed and continued working with her tool, "So in other words. If they pay you, fine; and if they kill you, fine. I guess I can live with that."

"Spare me, my dear," Rowels flicked his hand at her condescendingly, "You'll be getting a cut of the profit of course, for leading the turian here, whether you did so knowingly or not; you played perfectly into my plans, and for that I must thank you."

"Or rather, keep me on your side. Or else, right?"

"Oh don't be so glum, my dear!" Rowels exclaimed and raised his glass. "A toast!"

Annike tipped her head at him, "Up yours."

"My, my, such a sharp mouth. In time, in time. You'll come to respect me, or hate me. I care not, as long as you listen to me, or, as you so put it, you can end up a batarian's bitch. Or would you rather be with a krogan? I thought not. Or you could shoot me, too. But, you shoot me; they shoot you, or toss you out to the varren. My goodness I simply love being on top."

Annike scowled and stood up, "You made your point. I need air, it's rather piss-poor in here, I'll take my leave."

She rushed out, ignoring Rowels' taunting and headed back to her own private cabin; nearly all of the soldiers stayed with their own families or in this case in the infirmary, and she was neither sick nor had any family anymore, so the cabin was hers and hers alone. She instantly went to work with her omni tool. She dropped into her desk chair and began skimming through the couple hundred gigs of files, looking for proof: a whisper of Rowels' crookedness, his contract with the mercs, anything.

* * *

Rithe lay down on the hard, chilly metal bench with his arms behind his head and his legs crossed. He thought of himself, of Ilwen, his friends back on Palaven, his brother, his niece. He thought of Annike and her private past, her irreverent nature, of their first meeting. His thoughts ultimately drifted to Xeriln, the best father figure Rithe had, and he thought of how many batarians the old turian must have killed before they overwhelmed him on the Halvmaen. This made Rithe feel guilty as he, himself, had just run away.

The turian wondered why he had run and could find no other reason other than it felt like the best move. The Halvmaen was one of the greatest of the turian ships: a ship specifically designed to exceed in stealth-based maneuvers and combat, and under the proper (Rithe hated to use this word in relation to the batarians, or anyone other than a turian) command it could evade detection by even the most determined army for, hell, only the gods knew how long. No, the feeling to run must have come so that Rithe could live to help track the ship down and put her back under turian command as he and Ilwen, aside from Xeriln, had served on that ship longer than any current member had deceased or otherwise; and he would be able to provide support and fervor in the search... as well as implode the skulls of one batarian for every crewmember killed within the Halvmaen's decks.

Rithe tapped his foot absently as he waited for morning to come, knowing that he wouldn't be sleeping tonight anyway. Instead, he ran plans and scenarios through his head.

If Annike managed to find her proof and join him, she would escort Ilwen here, claiming his insubordination. Then, it was all a matter of contacting the Systems Alliance and surviving long enough to get out of here. That part wouldn't be hard; the heat had managed to help, confining all of the soldiers to bed. That left the mercs. Rithe hoped that the girl was as good with a rifle as she boasted about on the walk over here. Ilwen had his tech, and Rithe had his biotics, but they were strangers in a land that was full of people who had never seen a turian or a salarian... and ignorance often begets fear. And fear is easily manipulated. Rithe had no doubt that Rowels could rally the citizens to literally throw themselves at he and Ilwen. Hopefully Annike could turn them against Rowels if she found any proof of his treason...

Or, the other, more likely scenario: Rowels was a fool, but he was still smart enough not to take the chance and keep records of his transactions with mercenaries even among people who trusted him completely and regarded his word as law, Rithe figured. The thought of Rowels using innocent people as meat shields came back to Rithe. He closed his eyes and sighed. With or without proof, they would have to keep the colonists out of it, deal with the mercenaries, and get off the planet.

Rithe's eyes sparkled in the near-morning light and he looked out of the window toward the horizon as it began to brighten and glow a deep red. Already the temperature was rising back to its sweltering peak, and he remembered the hurricane he had seen as Ilwen and he were descending in their escape pod. He recalled thinking it was an omen - that it seemed to envelop and devour the small island, and his eyes narrowed as he told himself that he had been correct.

1. Preparations

Rowels rolled out of bed the next morning feeling both proud of himself and a bit hung over. He stumbled into the kitchenette and poured himself a mug of yesterday's cold and stagnant coffee. He sipped it thoughtfully, recalling his very recent accomplishments, and he smiled at himself.

As the morning dragged on, Rowels went about his own business discussing the trading of supplies with other colonies, solving discrepancies between his own flock, and making sure that new technician he had just acquired was doing his job.

But mostly, what remained at the forefront of his mind was the meeting with the Gray Equinox later today and his gaining more credits than he could ever use which seemed to be more of a challenge than anything else, as he was quite sure he could spend them all one way or another.

After a quick and cold shower (a new water heater was near the top of his list of things to purchase), Rowels took a stroll around the colony mostly to waste time, but more to hear any talk of the aliens and, if need be, quell any concerns.

The last thing he needed was the seeds of dissent and paranoia being sown.

"Actually, I heard it was a prisoner of war who had kidnapped a salarian boy for his sick desires...," one of the colonists began to his wife, "You know, for..." he finished his statement by making the morbidly comic gesture of bucking his hips.

Rowels stopped in mid-step and listened, trying his hardest not to laugh.

"You're kidding, that's disgusting! What happened to him? I hope they shot his you-know-what off, serves him right!" the colonists wife replied, her voice a whisper.

"I'm not sure, but my sister says she saw one of the soldiers leading him to the makeshift prison cabin, and they put the boy in the hangar, not sure why, though."

"As long as it keeps him from that sick bastard, I'm sure the salarian doesn't mind, either. But, the hangar is awful drafty, isn't it?"

"I don't know, I've never been in there but seriously, it's better than being with the sicko, right? I wonder how they even do it..."

"Oh god, you're sick!" his wife covered her ears and babbled nonsense to block out her husband's voice.

Rowels tittered madly to himself and walked along, clasping his hands behind his back. He walked proudly, swinging his legs out in a wide arc (which looked rather comical, but in his own mind he was on top of the world) and he wore a large grin, smiling to passersby.

He continued to the prison cabin and stood outside of the door, sliding away a small metal panel to look inside at the turian. The proclaimed sick bastard sat on the bench, looking down at the floor. He wrung his hands constantly and tapped his left foot against the metal floor, creating a hollow thumping.

"Why, hello there my precious, precious prize!"

Rithe paid him no attention.

"Oh, that's quite all right, I planned on doing all of the talking anyway. You've been quite the well behaved little savage, haven't you? If I hadn't already promised you to the Gray's, I might - might - just have released you... or not, I'm not sure. Either way," Rowels looked at his watch, "Seems noon is coming around faster than I had anticipated, and I must get back to my cabin and prepare to meet our friends."

"Wait, it's almost noon already?"

"Just an hour off," Rowels eyed the turian. "Why?"

He stood there for a long moment, but when it became apparent that his prisoner was no longer acknowledging him, he simply said, "It matters not what you're planning. If you care about that salarian, you'll stay put."

Rithe continued ignoring Rowels, and when he left, the turian sighed and closed his eyes.

"Come on, Annike, hurry up." Rithe plugged in his amp and rolled his shoulders preemptively as he could already feel a headache forming.

As if on cue, the soldier came running up to the door of the cabin, casting a quick glance over both of her shoulders before unlocking the door and letting herself inside. Rithe began to ask her what she found, but the look on her face said it all: nothing. She walked over to the nearby wall and punched it hard, and cursed loudly.

She looked at him in both anger and fear, "I hope you have a backup plan, because we're fucked. Really."

Rithe paused, and then said, "Do you have your gun with you?"

The soldier nodded.

"Good, take me to the hangar where they're keeping Ilwen. Act as though you're escorting me as a prisoner."

"You sort of are a prisoner."

* * *

Ilwen had fallen asleep just after sunrise and when he woke up it was with a groan, shortly after which his back popped loudly. He placed a hand at the base of his spine and grimaced, then scowled at the cot upon which he had slept. He stumbled over to the hangar door, keeping his hand against his back. He let himself outside and looked around; it appeared to be noon.

Looking over to the west, near where he and Rithe landed, he saw a large ship like scab against the horizon. Ilwen panicked and rushed back into the hangar, his heart beating hard against his chest. He quickly whipped up his omni tool and relayed the information to Rithe.

As if on cue, the turian and the traitorous soldier quickly slipped into the hangar, causing Ilwen to cry out in surprise. He quickly waved his right arm at Annike and she went rigid as he hacked and took control of her suit. The salarian snarled angrily at her.

"Ilwen!" Rithe grabbed the boy's wrist and shoved it away, "She's on our side."

Annike, unable to do much else, simply nodded.

Ilwen narrowed his eyes and regarded her for a moment, then released his hold on her suit and apologized to her.

"It's all right, kiddo; you don't think I'd really betray my two favorite alien buddies, huh?" She grinned. "No, I had to fake it to get closer to Rowels and see if I could find proof of what he tried doing, and before you ask, I couldn't."

Rithe raised his hand, "It's all right, now that the mercs have arrived, our top priority is contacting your friends at the Alliance and doing whatever to get them here," he looked at Annike, then back at Ilwen, "and surviving long enough to get picked up if they send anyone, assuming the mercs are on foot then it will be a few hours... but more likely they've got some form of transportation and will be here even faster, so we just have to buy time for your friends, Annike. That will be the hardest part. It goes without saying that colonists are not to be harmed. I'm sure they will seek shelter in their cabins, but I trust you have some kind of stun rounds just in case. Mercs, however, are kill on sight."

Annike thought for a moment and rustled through one of the storage pockets on her suit. She brought out a box of clips and loaded one, keeping the others ready. She thought for a moment and then said, "You know, I don't know what it's worth, but Rowels did tell me that these mercs have some sort of honor code, we might be able to avoid any bloodshed if we can somehow make a deal with them or talk them out of it."

"Maybe. We'll have to see, but it won't hurt being prepared. But for now, be ready to kill them if you have to." Rithe nodded back and looked at the youngest of the three, Ilwen. "You're on crowd control. Armor suits, vehicles, their own battle drones if they have them; those are your sole responsibilities, all right? You don't have an armor suit like us, so stay in the shadows or behind cover."

The boy nodded once and raised his arm, his omni-tool glowing softly. "The suit hack will only work for a few moments ideally... but it should be long enough."

The turian looked around, "Is there a map of this place anywhere nearby?"

"No," Annike began, "but it's pretty much just one long road with buildings on either side. The housing and farms are at the west side, as you saw when we arrived, this hangar we're standing inside is near the center, and the communications tower is on the far east side; luckily the colony itself is rather small, and all civilians remain on the west side, so it shouldn't be that bad once they are in their cabins, even more so since the soldiers are still sick."

"Okay, good, since you are free to move around without suspicion, take Ilwen over to the comm. tower and see what you can do about contacting your friend... and for the love of your god, don't be shy about telling them to move their asses. I'll stay here and wait, as I obviously can't risk being seen. That is, assuming we weren't seen on the walk over here."

"I'm sure we weren't," Annike said and moved toward the door, Ilwen sliding next to her. "Be safe, okay?"

"You too," Rithe said, then looked at Ilwen, "And you, as well."

Ilwen nodded and for a horrifying moment felt sure this was the last time he would see the turian, but he shut his eyes tight and barreled out of the door after Annike without looking back.

1. Distress Call

The girl and the salarian let themselves into the comm. tower and took a moment, panting softly. There was a door at the far end of the room which, Ilwen figured, led into the actual communications room. This foyer was barren except for a metal couch-like object upon which sat a few magazines. A tube bulb buzzed overhead.

"Great, at best, everyone who saw us won't mention it to anyone else, at worst we have, what, fifteen minutes?" Annike said, looking out of the small port window next to the entrance.

"Then let's get to it," Ilwen whispered quickly, moving to the far door and opening it. It hissed as it slid open. Ilwen pointed to the two men standing at the communications terminal.

Annike nodded and pulled out her pistol and slipped behind them, striking them at the base of the neck. They went down, each with a surprised cry.

"Annike!" Ilwen cried out and ran over.

The girl made a face, "They're still alive, they'll just be sore when they wake up. Either way we have to get the Alliance here. The mercs aren't going to just take you, me or Rithe..." her eyes narrowed. "Rowels practically invited them in to just come and take whoever goes quietly and murder who doesn't." She laughed. It was empty and full of fear, "That dumb bastard might have killed us all for his shitty dream of wealth. Come on."

Ilwen nodded and moved quickly over to the terminal. He chuckled and looked surprised, "Wow."

"What, what? Can you not do it?"

"Of course I can! I was just expecting I'd have to hack it or something in order to communicate off-planet.

But I don't, I just have to..." He waved his arm, "There." The large monitor before them flashed a few times before they were shown an image of themselves, then an image of some office. "We're now communicating with the Alliance."

The woman on screen, taken aback at the sudden opening of communications stared for a moment before sputtering, "This is Samantha Cohen, Corporal officer of the Systems Alliance. Who is this?"

Annike gasped and smiled, "Samyra! You bitch, how are you!"

The dark skinned woman looked both surprised and offended and moved close to the screen, "Annike?"

The soldier grinned and nodded.

"Oh, Annike! It's good to see you again, how are things on... where was it?"

Ilwen cleared his throat.

Annike looked at the salarian, and then nodded. "No time, Sam. We're at Brenn's Rock on Borlaran and, making a long story short, we could use a few good men. Turns out the leader of this colony has been doing business with mercs. I don't have proof right now to show you, but I swear to high heavens that they're here," Annike tapped her fist on the console as emphasis, "and they're on the move to this very spot."

"Okay, Annike, calm down. I'll see what I can do."

"That's it? You'll see? God I hope these mercs do have some sense of honor so we can stall them."

"If I had something more to go on than your word, I could do something more than see, Annike. I believe you, I want you to know that, but after what happened last time you can't expect me to just send in the cavalry." Sam sighed heavily. "Exactly what group is it?"

Annike flushed and clenched her fists, then let out a slow breath. "Gray Equinox."

Samyra nodded slowly, "Is there a way I can contact you again to keep you updated if anything changes?"

"Yeah, after this call my little buddy here will disable the comm. tower since it's blocking all weaker signals, so you'll be able to get in touch with me directly. We'll be on the move so call only if it's important. Our plan is to incapacitate the mercs if we can, take Rowels alive for questioning and prosecution, as well as get my friends off this rock. They're into deep shit, but you'll have to get it out of them if you want to know anything about it."

The girl on the screen nodded. "Everything you just said sounds positively insane. But... I suppose it's the best course of action right now. Doesn't the colony have its own ships?"

"Sure but they're in piss-poor condition and would never survive the trauma of going through a mass relay. We would be torn to microscopic shreds."

Samyra sighed. "I don't know Annike, this is heavy shit you're laying on me. Again."

"Sam, you owe me, come on goddamnit!"

"I know, I know. Just give me some damn time. And Annike, stay alive, okay?"

Annike nodded and Ilwen shut the comm. tower down.

An ear-splitting alarm sounded, and the room suddenly became bathed in a red light.

"Shit, shit, shit," Annike screamed and drew her rifle, double checking her stun rounds. "Out the back, out the back!"

She and the salarian rushed out of the fire escape, and slipped from behind building to building until they were back at the hangar.

"What the hell did you do," Rithe hissed, his back pressed against the wall, his eyes scanning the view from the small dirty window nearby. "The entire colony is in a panic now!"

"Who coulda known shutting down the goddamn comm. tower would raise an alarm? Either way, we still have the element of surprise, we weren't seen coming back here, we just have to move... uh, quicker is all!" Annike forced a nervous smile. "I couldn't get us a definite pick up from my friends. We might be screwed."

Rithe waved his hand dismissively, "Whatever, when that time comes, we'll deal with it. We still have the chance that the mercs can be reasoned with."

"Ah, I see, so we just fend off the mercs until my friends arrive... Assuming they will arrive. Sounds like a death trap, I like it," Annike said.

"It might be the only course of action." The turian looked at Ilwen, "What about you? Do you have any ideas?"

Ilwen shook his head, "I'm not a fighter. I'm a scientist. I know this is no time for whining, but I can't form battle plans like you guys can, that's all."

Rithe nodded, "I know, Ilwen, and I appreciate you putting yourself in danger for us."

"Hush, hush!" Annike hissed and ducked under the window.

Outside, a few men ran by shouting orders and arguments at one another.

"Sounds like my comrades are up and at 'em again. From the sounds of it, they're still sick enough to not be worth much of a shit, but, yeah. Bullets are bullets."

Rithe nodded, "Annike, you're still a friend to them, go do something! And shut off that damned alarm!"

She nodded and let herself out, Ilwen following. After a moment she shouted in a harsh, commanding voice, "YOU! HALT!"

The three men turned clumsily toward her, looking at her stupidly. She marched toward them and stood over them, looking at each one with disgust.

"I don't know who told you worthless maggots that you were allowed to run around with half of your brains nothing more than soup, and the other half on fire with your asses catching, and with guns, but get your asses back into your barracks, now! And if one of you even thinks to do something so incredibly stupid as put everyone in danger because you're seeing hallucinations and think a little girl playing in the streets is two krogan fucking, then I'll make sure you get thrown out into the wilds!"

One of them spoke, his voice slurred and nearly unintelligible, "Buh... wha-about the tower?"

Annike waved away his question, "Nothing more than one of the moronic scientists pushing a wrong button, it's fine now. Get. Back. In. Bed."

They looked at one another, then at the tower, then back at Annike and started toward the barracks. Annike sighed and closed her eyes, chuckling to herself as Ilwen fiddled his omni-tool, shutting off the alarms.

The pair retreated to the hangar and Rithe gave them an approving nod. "All right, now to deal with the colonists and Rowels."

Overhead, speakers set throughout the camp sounded a chime once, before a droning out prerecorded message, ATTENTION, ALL COLONISTS ARE TO REMAIN IN THEIR CABINS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE FROM MASTER ROWELS. ATTENTION, ALL COLONISTS ARE TO REMAIN IN THEIR CABINS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE FROM MASTER ROWELS. ATTENTION...

"Well, I suppose that fixes one problem," Rithe chuckled as they looked out of the hangar window to see men, women, and children hurrying to their cabins. "They don't think anything of it."

Annike shook her head, "Nah, those messages are played whenever the geologists think a sandstorm or thunderstorm is coming. The storms here are extremely dangerous, so the colonists are required to stay inside. The windows have blast shields rigged to shut at the push of a button, too. Rowels must have triggered it so that there will be no witnesses to his dealing with the mercs. For all they know, it's gonna rain today, and nothing else. No mercs marching into the camp to take away the first alien they've seen in years, most of them the first time in their lives. No sir. Either way, it works in our favor."

"Won't they ask questions?"

"Damn, you know how people can be when in large groups, dumb as sheep."

"I see, indeed. Now, for the mastah, any ideas?"

The girl's expression darkened and she narrowed her eyes, "Let me do it, he hides behind his big words and shit-eating grin, but in actuality he's nothing more than a little bitch, and it's time he learned just how that feels."

Rithe chuckled darkly and nodded, waving his hand at her, "Go do what you have to do, just hurry, and be careful. Don't kill him."

"Come on, I know I was almost dead when we first met, but heat stroke is a lot stronger than anything Rowels can throw at me," Annike replied and grinned, tipping her head as she left.

"Will she be okay?" Ilwen asked as he rechecked his omni-tool.

The turian nodded, "She will be."

1. The Waltz of Treachery

Annike stood at the door to Rowels' cabin for a few moments, gathering herself. She cracked her knuckles and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Part of her was fully confident, that she could take him out easily, a kick in the jaw ought to do it, but another part simply chastised the first for being cocky.

Remember what happened the last time you overestimated your enemy, Annike.

I know, I know.

Rowels was a weakling, but even a weakling could plant a dagger in your back if you offered them the chance, and the chastising part of Annike kept reminding her about that. She shook her head and let herself inside. Rowels was sitting at his dinner table fussing over his data pad.

"What the hell is wrong with our communications?" He nearly shrieked, throwing his data pad down on the table.

"Must be the storm coming up on us."

"Oh save it, woman, you know very well there's no storm. Until I've secured the payment, I'd rather avoid their unnecessary contact with the colonists. Honorable or not, they have the guns, we have naught but the turian."

Annike crossed her arms behind her back and walked slowly toward him. "True, but like you said, the mercs are honorable. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

"Of course I'm not! I promised them that I would give them the turian, and they promised they'd pay me. Mercenaries or not, we have a contract!"

Rowels pounded his fist upon the table and it was then that Annike realized that, probably for the first time in his life, things were not going according to plan for the great Nicholas Rowels. A lifetime of either getting what he wanted or making things the way he wanted (and to hell with those who got in the way) had made the man overconfident and clumsy. These two feelings Annike knew all too well (although her own experience came from her own hotheaded choices) and shuddered at the thought of having something in common with him. To think, all it took was simply a salarian boy to kick Rowels off of his proverbial tower of stability confidence! She had to stifle an evil laugh.

"You're nervous, scared of the Gray Equinox, aren't you! What about your huge speech about gaining power and protection under these fuckers!"

Rowels jumped to his feet and snarled at her, "You bitch! I am scared of no mercenary; come Gray Equinox, Blue Suns, Eclipse, or even the fucking Blood Pack! When the Gray's arrive and take away that bastard turian, Kanithan, I'll make sure you ship off with him!" He brandished a pistol and advanced at her, swinging it wildly.

Annike's lip curled upwards in pleasure as she blocked his blow from the right with her forearm, then curled it around his own arm and yanked upwards. Rowels shrieked as his shoulder dislocated with a wet snap and a mixture of sweat and tears rolled down his face. He dropped his pistol and gaped at her. She released him and he went down with a thump, clutching his shoulder.

The soldier pressed a few buttons on her omni-tool and Rowels' voice replayed: When the Gray's arrive and take away that bastard turian, Kanithan, I'll make sure you ship off with him!

_ _ Realization flared on Rowels' face in a mixture of fury and fear. He staggered to his feet, but the gesture caused his heart to beat heavily and that in turn caused his shoulder to pulse with a sickening pain. He fell to his ass, staring up at her.

"You sniveling little fucker, you hide behind your long speeches and half-cocked smile and go off on these stupid ass flights of fancy, thinking you can barter with mercenaries," She made a face and spoke with an affected voice, whiny and nasally but it clearly resembled Rowels: "Once I sell Kanithan to the mercs I can buy all kinds of sparkly shit for me and my buddies!"

Rowels looked up at her and spit. It landed on her shin with a wet splat.

"You're one who won't limp away," she turned to leave.

"Oh, yes, my dear," Rowels said through haggard breaths, "your failed bust mission, keep thinking that anything you can do will make up for failing to bring him in and finally grant justice and peace to Tyress. Keep thinking that you aren't just a childish soldier who went in half-cocked and inexperienced. Keep thinking that this won't just fail like every other aspect of your life." Rowels grinned smugly at her.

Annike turned and looked at him darkly, advancing toward him. "You're right; this won't make up for that failure. That failure is for me, and only me. What happens here is for more than myself, I won't fail," she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him against the wall. "The difference here is that now I don't have any witnesses." She drew back her fist.

Rowels squealed and shut his eyes tight and Annike laughed.

"You aren't even close to worth it." She relished his terror. "No, I'll get more pleasure knowing you'll be crying to yourself each night in prison."

She ignored his constant stream of babblings intermixed with curses and pleadings and stomped on his pistol a few times until it was in pieces, then left and locked the door behind her.

"Annike? Annike!"

She pressed to fingers behind her ear, "Talk to me, Sam."

"Good news, turns out I have a few friends who owe me. They're on their way; they should be there in two hours tops."

Annike sighed but nodded to herself, "I suppose that's the best we can do. Thanks Sam, I'll tell the guys."

"The guys?" "Right, yeah, in addition to evacuating me and Rowels, I have a turian and salarian that need passage to the Citadel. I trust your friends don't have problems with that?"

"Oh, not at all."

"Good, good. In the meantime, see what you can do about contacting some other colonies here on Borlaran and see if they will take in those at Brenn's Rock. I think that will be easier than trying to find someone to lead them, especially right now."

"Why?"

"Well, their trusted and amazing leader has been dealing with mercs and pretty much cares nothing for them; and once they find out, I really doubt they'll want to deal with the hassle of politics for a while."

"Ah, true, true. Let's see... data here says that the Colony of Deryn is closest, I'll get in touch with them and see what they can do."

"Get in touch with a couple, this has been far too easy so far, I'm expecting something bad to happen."

"Right. Be careful. Oh, and Annike?"

"Yes?"

"You owe me a beer."

They laughed and for a moment Annike thought they might actually pull it off.

"Honey, if we make it out of this I will buy you two," Annike replied and shut off her comm. device. She hurried back to the hangar.

When she entered, Rithe sighed, "Finally, I thought something had happened." He crept from the shadows and holstered the pistol Ilwen had managed to find for him on one of the gun racks in a storage room of the hangar. Thankfully, Ilwen had said, the humans here keep their weapons in better shape than their vehicles.

"You should know something about us human women: we take our time getting things just right whether it is our hair, our nails, or putting pissants in their place. Rowels is currently stewing in his own self-pity and anger."

"You think he'll try to kill himself?"

"Nah, he's stupid but he isn't that stupid. Hell, maybe even deep down he knows he deserves to go to prison..." Annike popped herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand. "Yeah, my ass. Anyway, what's the plan now boy-o? I see you found a weapon. Good. Oh, yeah, my contact says that our pickup will be here in a few hours. She's also gonna talk with some other colonies to take in those who will be left here."

Rithe thought for a moment and looked at Ilwen, then back at Annike. He went out of the hangar and took a deep breath. "Easier to think out here." He looked at the far horizon and narrowed his eyes. "I don't see the mercs."

"Here, have a look through this." Annike tossed her rifle to him; he looked through the scope and scanned the road.

"Much better... There they are. Damn it, they're making good time, but at least they are on foot like I thought. Wonder why they'd land so far away, too, like we did."

"Probably seizing our ship," Ilwen said resentfully. "Rowels probably promised that to them."

Rithe nodded. "Probably. All right, we've got maybe an hour, tops. Is there anything we can use around here to get an advantage? The Mako's?" Annike glanced back at the hangar, "Some still work as we use them to hunt varren and to carry supplies from one colony to another."

"I'll get on it," Ilwen said and went back into the hangar.

Rithe glanced through the rifle's scope again. "The mercs are armed. How likely do you think it is that they have weapons simply for protection?"

The soldier laughed, "I'd sooner believe Rowels himself would sprout wings out of his ass and fly around vomiting up diamonds than believe that the mercs are worried about protecting themselves from a small colony like this."

"I agree." The turian rolled his shoulders and looked at Annike, tossing the rifle back to her, "Looks like you won't need those stun shots anymore."

Annike grinned and switched her ammunition back, "Whatever you say El Capitan."

"Any other entrances to this camp? The walls aren't that high but they should help."

"Nah, the only entrance is the one we came through."

Rithe nodded toward the large gate and he and Annike went over to inspect it.

"There's a console to control the door here somewhere. Ah, here it is." Annike fiddled with the terminal and a large slab of steel serving as the door slid upwards out of the ground and locked with a satisfying click.

"This will help a lot." Rithe tapped on the slab with a knuckle. It was solid, at least eight inches thick. "Hell, they might just figure it too much trouble and turn around and leave."

The soldier smirked at Rithe, "What, you aren't worth breaking down a large chunk of steel for?"

Rithe chuckled, "I hope not."

Ilwen came running down the path toward them, kicking up puffs of dry, sterile dust.

"What? What is it?" Rithe said, fearing the worst.

The salarian panted softly as he spoke, "Got a Mako working, I have control with my omni-tool..." he maneuvered his fingers and twisted his wrist and the Mako came rumbling down the path toward the three. It stopped with a rusty squeal and sat there, engine purring softly.

Ilwen grinned up at them, quite proud of his handiwork and when Rithe nodded at him he smiled more. "I have control over the gun too, but I won't demonstrate that. Element of surprise, you know?"

"Nice thinking," Rithe said.

"I'm starting to think we'll actually make it," Annike said and patted the salarian's shoulder.

Rithe nodded, "Okay, so position it somewhere innocuous, but well within the line of sight from this door. Best case scenario is we can funnel them through and take them out easily. Well, best, best case, would be if they just turned around and left."

"Won't the colonists wonder what's going on?"

Annike shrugged, "I heard talk that the cabins are soundproof, should be okay. Assuming they aren't in on Rowels' plan, they might just figure it's the pounding of hail or something."

Rithe waved the question away, "We'll deal with that when we have to, if we have to. Chances are we will be feared or hated or loved depending on how they react to all this," he turned to Annike and grinned, "There's still time to scurry away and feign ignorance to all of this if you're scared."

She flipped him off good-naturedly.

"All right, so now we wait-"

A loud tang emanated from the steel door. The three froze for a moment before Rithe nodded to Annike and Ilwen. They walked over to the console and Annike activated the camera on the opposite side of the wall, the image of twelve mercenaries appearing instantly. They each carried a rifle as Rithe had observed, and one near the back, the tallest of the group, carried a sniper rifle. The long tube of its barrel gleamed in the sun.

He's the leader, no doubt about that, Rithe thought. He's dangerous, too.

"Such a small group," Annike said out of the corner of her mouth.

The sniper immediately looked up at the camera and narrowed his eyes and Rithe wondered how his face managed to stay in one piece with so many scars. His eyes were a startling blue and almost looked kind, ironic compared to the way the rest of him looked.

Annike cleared her voice, "Hello?"

The men, except for the blue-eyed sniper, drew their weapons and swung nervously about and Rithe chuckled. "Freelancers. I guess I'm really not worth that much."

"Pout later, Rithe," Annike said and spoke again into the console, "Yo, morons!"

Blue pushed his way to the front and looked up into the camera; his lip turned upwards just a bit, "I hear there's something special here in this camp. Something my boss is very interested in."

"Oh, right, and who would that be?"

"Need to know, baby, need to know."

Annike laughed. "Of course, and if you told me, you'd have to kill me, right? Either way there's nothing here for any of you."

Blue chuckled and shook his head, "If I weren't so sure - if I weren't so sure you were lying, I'd turn around and march my ass off this oven of a planet; but instead, how about opening this door for us, pretty lady, and we'll have a look ourselves?"

"You and the eleven other bumbling heroes?"

At that, the group of younger freelancing mercs started whooping and shouting curses at the camera.

"Quiet! Yes my dear. Twelve gentlemen in your camp of a hundred is hardly in our favor, don't you agree? You know, as secretive as you're being, I'm even more convinced that you have our prize here. So how about you let us in?"

"No."

"Now now, we didn't bring these guns for show and while I'd like to avoid any bloodshed, you're making it quite hard for me to resist the temptation."

Rithe nudged Annike's shoulder and shook his head, preempting her caustic reply. "Let them in," he said, back stepping away from her. He retreated behind the shade of a nearby cabin, drawing his pistol.

Ilwen ran over to hide behind the Mako, prepping his omni-tool.

After taking a deep breath, Annike pressed a few buttons on the console and the door came down with a harsh grind.

"My, my, you are a pretty lady. A smart one, too."

1. A Game of Chess

Annike had drawn her rifle and was resting it casually on one shoulder. Blue and his lackeys stepped over the threshold and stood clustered together, looking around - the blue-eyed sniper eyeing everything with open suspicion.

"Everyone sick?"

Annike shook her head, "No, they just think a storm's on its way. Let's hope it passes by peacefully, eh? For everyone's sake."

"Ah, I see, smart that they should stay in their cabins while the storm passes," he chuckled, "All right, enough of the metaphors, let us just collect the turian and we will be on our way."

"I really have no idea who this turian is you speak of."

"Girl you are trying my patience, bring me the damned alien or I'll take you in his stead."

Annike shrugged.

Blue walked around her, eyeing her derisively, "Yes, I think you'll work nicely. After all, a soldier is a soldier." He pushed her toward the other mercs.

One of them grinned at her, his mouth more gum than teeth and his breath rank. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked upwards. She let out a pained snarl and swung the butt of her rifle toward him, but Blue grabbed it and tossed it aside.

The next thing she was aware of was the toothless merc's loosening grip, then the loud pock, and finally the hole that had suddenly appeared above his right eyebrow. His head fell limply to the side limply and he tumbled over. Annike glanced over her shoulder and saw that Blue was stunned, so she rammed her elbow against his jaw and bounded over behind the cabin where Rithe was hidden.

The barrel of his pistol was still smoking and he handed it to her, and then touched the amp at the base of his neck absently, as if to make sure it was still there. Across the road, the Mako roared to life and Blue and his cohorts scattered behind a stack of crates meant for the cabin Annike had been setting up. The toothless merc lay sprawled out on the ground, his arms twitching as the final synapses of his brain fired and then went silent forever.

Rithe peeked around the corner quickly then drew his head back. "All right, six on the left and five on the right, Blue's with the six. Those crates bulletproof?"

Annike nodded.

The turian raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke, "Run them down, Ilwen," and then watched as the Mako roared to life and bounded across the road, crashing into the crates and the two unfortunate mercs who weren't fast enough. Their cries of pain devolved into howling shrieks as the Mako's wheels spun on top of them, tearing them apart.

"Rithe, that destroyed one of the Mako's wheels, I can't control it anymore. The gun is still operational, however."

"Save it, Ilwen, we don't know if these were the only guys they'll send."

"Right."

Rithe took another peek around the corner and saw no sign of the mercs. "Huh, perhaps they've-"

"Rithe..."

It was then that Rithe became aware of the gun muzzle pressed against the back of his neck.

"Up, slowly."

He obeyed, turning around to face the merc. It wasn't Blue, which made Rithe both relieved and disappointed.

The merc looked at Annike, "One move and I do to your friend what he did to mine."

Bluish-purple light flowed from Rithe's eyes and fists. The merc staggered backwards in fright and turned to run but Rithe slammed his fist against the man's chest and in an instant the merc was propelled through the air and into the nearby wall headfirst. He died instantly.

"Jesus, Rithe... Remind me to never piss you off."

Rithe chuckled and turned toward the road, still glowing softly. Everything seemed to slow down just a bit, barely noticeable, but noticeable nonetheless, like the sound of hummingbirds' wings. Rithe walked slowly, deliberately, the rest of the world, universe, Ilwen, Annike - all falling away and becoming insignificant. His purest instincts came forward and their message was simple. Ironically, they spoke with the voice of Xeriln.

Fight... And protect.

Barrages of bullets pelted his barrier but his indignation and resolve gave him the physical and mental strength to withstand it. He felt the pain of the shots as fiery sparks in his skull, but the bullets merely disintegrated into harmless dust against his barrier. He marched toward the group of mercenaries, all of them the witless freelancers. Blue was nowhere to be found, but that was unimportant. Rithe threw his arm forward and yanked it back, and one of the mercs was whipped toward him by an invisible force. The turian's fist closed around the man's neck and squeezed hard. Something snapped, and he dropped the limp body.

Rithe grinned wickedly as another two mercs dropped dead from Annike's cover fire. He could feel her eyes watching him warily, no doubt a memory of her own experience with his biotics surfacing somewhere in the far corners of her mind.

He spoke and his voice was completely calm, "Talk to me Ilwen."

"Blue ran off, god it's amazing watching you fight, Rithe..."

"Stay covered, you won't be able to watch if you die."

"Right."

Rithe twisted his neck and sighed when it popped gently; he watched as Annike put a bullet in another mercenary's head. The turian looked down by his right foot and saw her rifle, and absently kicked it backwards to her. She shouted a thank-you and he could hear her escalating laughter.

For a moment, he realized she must get the same sadistic pleasure from the thrill of fighting as he did, but that thought was blocked out as his instincts enveloped his mind again.

Fight and protect, Rithe. Fight and protect.

"Commander, the alien's a biotic!" One of the mercs screamed, "Watch-" his sentence was cut short as Rithe flung him into the air and let him drop.

Another mercenary appeared from the right side of the large gate and before he could shoot, Annike filled his stomach with lead. He fell to his knees and screamed, then lurched back behind the wall.

From the corner of his eye, Rithe sensed movement and he turned his head so fast that the last merc dropped his gun and simply stared into those demonic, glowing eyes. He threw his hands into the air and then threw himself onto the ground. Rithe nodded once at him and the gratitude in the man's eyes was more than obvious as he began sobbing loudly, grateful for his life even if it meant going to prison.

"Looks like the ass with the sniper is the only one left," Annike said from somewhere far behind Rithe.

"He probably ran off," Rithe began in a calm, almost droning voice, "He seems like the kind of person who-" His words were cut off as an immense spike of pain ruptured through his skull and he felt the skin over his left shoulder split open and warm, sticky blood begin to run down his arm. He gasped and cursed loudly but forced himself to stay concentrated. He darted behind the Mako and panted softly. "Nope, he's still here it seems."

Annike peered around the corner and surveyed the surrounding area. "I don't see him; he couldn't have gotten far... Are you okay?"

Rithe waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing, my barrier kept the bullet from doing more than giving me a nasty scratch."

The soldier looked at Rithe worriedly, then shrieked in surprise as a thundering clap of gunfire preceded the alarmingly large dent that appeared right next to her head. She cursed and ran around the cabin, motioning Rithe over quickly. The turian threw himself beside of her.

"The asshole's behind us!" she cried and spit onto the ground. "He used the freelancers as a distraction! Shit, he could be anywhere back there!"

"Eh-excuse me..." the merc Rithe had pardoned before began in a small voice. He began to continue, but looking into the turian's violet eyes stayed his words, and he simply turned his omni-tool's communication device to its speaker setting.

"Ah, much better," Blue's voice said. "You've managed to cause quite a bit of trouble, turian. You killed some good, ah, well they were men, regardless; but I'm willing to forget all of that, if you come quietly. I'll allow you all to step out in the open and relinquish all of your weapons, oh and that dreadful amp as well, and toss them away, and then we five shall leave these poor people in peace. Oh, and Hildebrandt..."

The mercenary winced, "Ye-yes, sir?"

"You're fired.

"I'll give you thirty seconds, turian, to gather your squad mates - and that includes the salarian - and surrender. Or, we can continue this game of chess; but with just a knight, queen, and two pawns I doubt you'll get far. I will start timing now." Blue's voice cut off.

"Ilwen, get over here, now."

The salarian didn't question and instead ran over as fast as he could and dropped to his knees beside Rithe.

"Twenty seconds at most, quick..."

1. Shuffle

_ _

Rithe, Ilwen, Hildebrandt, and Annike walked out onto the dusty, body-strewn yard of the camp. They stood shoulder to shoulder, firmly; except for Hildebrandt who was still sniffling. A minute or two passed before any of them noticed movement as Blue paraded down the center of the main road grinning, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder casually. Rithe's eyes narrowed and he knew that regardless of that man's looks, he was ready to strike. A kind of respect had grown for Blue, and Rithe almost felt bad that Blue was going to die.

Well out of range of Rithe's biotics, and the soldier's weapons, Blue brought his wrist to his mouth and spoke. His voice came from Hildebrandt's omni-tool again and ordered them to throw down their weapons, and Rithe's amp.

They did so and Blue began his advance again. When he was within speaking distance, he brandished a pistol so quickly that his hand looked as though it disappeared for a moment only to reappear packing lead, and he shot Hildebrandt in the chest then said, "Shame, but all in all, I knew you were just a pathetic fuck."

The merc looked at Rithe pitifully, accusingly, as if saying I thought you would protect me, I didn't want this, and then toppled over.

Rithe looked down at the man's limp body, and felt that small feeling of sorrow over Blue's imminent death dissipate instantly along with any respect he had for him.

Blue took in a deep breath and then grinned. It was horrifying how friendly it made him look. "All right! Now we can leave this blasted dust bowl. I have dust in my eyes, ears, as well as a few other holes not fit for conversation with company. Shall we?" He walked over the weapons, relishing especially the snap of Rithe's amp as it crushed under his heel.

"Now?" Ilwen said.

"Yes, now, you little twit," Blue said irritably.

Rithe nodded slowly, "Yes, Ilwen..." His eyes glowed gently, "Now."

The salarian swung his arm in a wide arc and Blue went rigid, and more importantly, his rifle and pistol fell to the ground as Ilwen hacked his suit. "Go, go, go, go, GO!" Ilwen shouted, holding control over Blue's suit as best as he could.

Rithe rushed him and threw his weight against the man. They fell to the ground and Annike drew her hidden pistol, trying to line up a shot.

"Shit, shit!" she snarled and rushed to grab Blue's rifle before he could do it himself. She walked off to the side, cursing loudly and ejecting the thermal clip before breaking the barrel over her knee. She took a good hold of it and pounded it against the ground a few times for good measure.

Blue threw Rithe down and straddled his stomach, drawing a knife from a sheath on his thigh and pressed it against the turian's neck. He eyed the biotic with seething fury. "A little barbaric, but this will get the job done. Dead or alive, I just have to bring your scaled ass in."

"Rithe!" Ilwen screamed.

Rithe laughed. It started out small but it grew louder and louder. At the same time, Blue watched in horror as Rithe's eyes began to glow. The blade of the knife dissolved into a pile of dust. The turian laughed still, even as Blue asked in a voice that the alien would have thought too high to have come from a mercenary's throat.

"How? How are you-" Blue's eyes flashed back to the pile of weapons and it was then when he saw the faux amp.

Suddenly, Rithe went quiet and with one finger pushed the man off of him. He stood up and grabbed Blue by the neck, yanking him to his feet. He kept his fist tight around the man's throat.

"For a sniper, you have some useless eyes." Rithe turned to Ilwen, "Good job on the dummy amp, bud. I always knew you were a master with the omni-tool. You think the colonists will miss the single bolt from one of the Mako's wheels? I think not." He grinned and winked at the boy.

Blue tried to speak but his words were garbled.

"No, no, no. You speak way too much." Rithe squeezed the man's throat. "I want you to listen, and then talk. My name is Rithe Kanithan. This is Ilwen Merszin, and Annike Niemen. I served aboard the turian ship Halvmaen before it was commandeered by mutinous batarians, causing the boy and me to crash on this planet."

The sniper spoke again and this time Rithe let him, "Oh, just kill me now if you're going to subject me to your life story..."

"Later, but I will skip ahead for your convenience as you're so willing to die. The leader of this colony contacted you with the intent to sell me and I want to know if that was of his own volition, or if there is a bounty on my head."

"Why should I tell you anything?" Rithe tightened his grip around the man's neck to the point where veins throbbed and bulged against his throat and forehead. "Because the difference is you go quickly, or I take you apart molecule by molecule, starting with your cock, and believe me I don't think that will take very long."

Blue spit on him and Rithe snarled, crushing the bone in his arm to powder with his biotics. Blue screamed in agony.

"Rithe!" Annike said and pulled on his shoulder. The wounded one.

The turian whirled at her. "What!" "Enough... it's enough!" She found herself terrified of Rithe at that moment, staring into those glowing eyes. "I want to know as much as you do, but I can't let you torture him anymore."

"This man deserves it. He shot at you, he shot at me, and he killed his own men. He would have killed the colonists had they not been inside!"

"I know, and I believe it, but I won't let you sacrifice your morality for that. He's not worth damning yourself."

Rithe looked at her hard for a moment, and then dropped Blue. Rithe sighed and popped his amp out and shoved it into his suit's storage pocket. "You're right." He looked at the merc, "And you're lucky."

He walked off.

1. Finale

Rithe patched up his shoulder with a dose of medi-gel as Ilwen managed to find some cables, and Rithe tied Blue's ankles and wrists together. The boy had also managed to find some kind of adhesive strips and had taped the merc's mouth shut. Annike gave Ilwen her pistol and the boy kept watch over Blue as she and Rithe began the arduous task of carrying the bodies away. They went over a nearby hill, keeping Ilwen and Blue in sight, and proceeded to dig a mass grave.

"God, I thought I was done with digging," Annike said and made a face.

Rithe chuckled and when they had finished, he laid each corpse down carefully and prayed. He wasn't sure to whom he prayed, but he prayed nonetheless. With ten of them lying side by side, he began covering them.

"What about Hilde?"

"He never once shot at us, I don't think. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who could shoot even to save his own life. My best guess is he needed money and this was his last chance; and that bastard killed him. I'm digging him his own grave, he doesn't deserve to be buried with murderers."

Annike nodded and picked up her shovel and helped him.

"Rest easy, Hildebrandt."

He and Annike returned to see Ilwen absently spinning the pistol on his finger. He was ecstatic over the new trick he learned and went on about it for a good twenty minutes before Annike changed the subject.

"Shame we didn't get to see the Mako's cannon in action."

Rithe looked at Ilwen, "I guess now's a good a time as any to test it."

Ilwen fiddled with his omni-tool, and then looked at the cannon expectantly. It shuddered then fell off its mount and rolled off the Mako. "Well... damn."

The soldier and biotic both laughed.

"Ah, I take it you guys are still alive since you're laughing? Or that you've gone insane with defeat?"

"Oh, oh, yes Samyra, we're all fine."

"Good, good, the ETA for the pickup should be twenty minutes."

Annike chuckled, "Oh typical, always late to the party. They're taking us to the Citadel, yes? It'll be the best way for my buds here to get in touch and fix whatever it is that needs fixing."

"Yes."

"Good, good. Thanks Sam. I owe you."

"You're damn right you do!" Sam replied, but not unkindly. "I'm glad you guys are all right, Sam out."

Annike turned off her comm. device and looked up at Rithe, then down at Ilwen. "It's almost over, then..."

"Indeed, but why do you seem unhappy?"

The soldier turned away and shrugged off his question, "Maybe I was getting used to you two. Maybe I'm gonna miss you."

"You're welcome to come with us, you know," Rithe said, furrowing his brow as if the thought of their parting had never crossed his mind. Indeed, not once had he believed this strange and fascinating girl would have ever left their group. To him, she was essential. "We could always use someone of your skill. Besides, I'm supposed to get to know you better, remember?"

"That's just it, there's something I have to do. For me." She looked at them firmly.

Rithe nodded slowly and sadly, "All right, but keep in touch."

"Definitely."

* * *

By the time the ship with Samyra's friends arrived, the trio had managed to return the Mako to the hangar and get the comm. tower back up and running. Annike chatted with the arriving soldiers, retelling what happened while the two aliens hung back by themselves, standing near the gate into the colony.

"Ilwen," Rithe began, "You did great for your first time in combat."

Ilwen smiled proudly.

"Now, do me a favor that is a lot easier and a hell of a lot safer."

"What's that?"

"Program a command that will open the colonists' cabins and broadcast a message over the speakers in an hour telling the colonists that it is safe to come out of their shelter. And, for good measure, make a copy of the voice logs from Rowels' betrayal and leave that with an explanation. That way, when Annike's friend gets in touch with the other colonies, the people here will know what happened."

"Got it!" Ilwen said and ran off into the comm. tower.

"Annike, shall we go collect Rowels?" Rithe said, walking toward her and her comrades.

"Oh, shit, almost forgot!"

Rithe, Annike, and two of the soldiers Sam had sent went over to Rowels' cabin. Annike drew her pistol just in case.

"Be careful, I, uh, sorta broke his arm - it was in self defense Rithe, don't give me that look - but he's still dangerous."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Rithe said with a smile as he unlocked the door.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Annike began as the door opened, "You know, it's funny, I've had this feeling of dread all day but it looks like things are going-" She stopped in mid sentence, gaping at Rithe.

"What... What?" Rithe suddenly felt sluggish and he stumbled backwards against the door frame. "What... what's happened?

"Rithe!" she shrieked and caught him as he fell.

The turian looked down at his stomach to see the hole in his armor and his own blue blood gushing out of it. The last things he saw were Rowels smiling vindictively at him as he tossed his pistol aside and allowed himself to be detained by the soldiers and then Annike, her face wet with tears and sweat, her hands turning a sickly blue as she pressed against the hole in his armor, trying to stop the blood.

R.W.F

January 28, 2012