Officer Armando-Owen Bailey was having what anyone would call a shitty day. Somehow he'd overslept despite several backup alarms. He had made it to his C-Sec office while managing to dodge the watchful eyes of his turian superiors...only to find out that the one damn coffee machine in the whole damn place was broken. The only other option was the weak brown liquid that the turians were pleased to call a 'stimulant drink'. Those pansy dinosaurians might call it a stimulant, but Bailey considered it no better than dipping a brown crayon in hot water.

It was no use complaining, of course. Turians already considered humans to be insane for drinking the essence of a poisonous alkaloid that would put any other Citadel species in the hospital. Bailey had heard more than one crack about 'monkey-boys with garbage pail stomachs' and knew that he'd get little sympathy for trying to just get one proper cup of coffee.

And then, on top of it all, he was assigned to Intake Detail. The most ass-numbing duty on the whole damn station. After six hours of scanning and stamping, he didn't even see individuals anymore. All he saw was how many were in each group, along with his own private label for them.

Two Heartbreaking Political Refugees.

Three Shady But Not Yet Arrest-able Thugs.

Seven Slow-Ass Volus.

Five Naive Businessmen Looking For A Good Time.

Ten Brick-Stupid Mercenaries.

Six Clueless Tourists.

A human hand set an ID card in front of him. "Hello, sir," said a hoarse and very polite voice.

Bailey glanced up. This bunch he would classify as One Rich Doofus, Complete With Four Entourage. But then he reconsidered. During his years at C-Sec, Bailey had developed a hypertrophied horse-sense of when things were off. This "Mr. Hadlock" character had his ID in order and he looked perfectly calm, but there was still something...off. After a little thought, Bailey realized that what had triggered his suspicion was the way Hadlock moved. This wasn't some CEO who had gotten rich sitting on his ass. The man seemed to glide as he walked. Bailey hadn't even realized he was there until he'd put his card down.

Hadlock's companions also seemed normal, or at least as normal as you could get on the Citadel. There was an asari and a turian in the group, which was a little more diverse than he would expect from a rich guy from Earth. And if that asari wasn't an ex-commando he'd eat his shoe.

Bailey sighed internally as he scanned them all in. There was no law against walking in a certain way, or having alien soldiers in your retinue. He gave the group an outward smile and waved them through. "Welcome to Zakera Ward, and to the Citadel."

That was the last interesting group. The rest of his day was a monotone blur which seemed to take forever. Finally, blessedly, it was time to clock out. Bailey had made it as far as the door out of the Zakera C-Sec branch office before he was confronted by a pair of furious blue eyes that glared up at him from under a mop of short brown hair.

"Where is she?"

"Rita, I've put Jenna in the system as I promised. If anybody in C-Sec runs into her, they'll have her contact you. We need to wait ten more hours before we can declare her officially missing." Bailey leaned against the door jamb and massaged one temple.

"That's too long to wait! Listen, I know who took her. It was a krogan named Jax. I need to talk to Chellick."

"And what can he do? If Jenna worked for him in the past-"

"She did!"

"If she did, then Chellick can't do anything official. He certainly can't do anything like organize a massive sweep through Zakera Ward. Which is what we'd have to do at the moment, unless we get more information." Bailey patted Rita on the shoulder. "And maybe she's just out having fun. It's only been ten hours since you saw her last."

Rita shook her head. "No. She missed the start of her shift. Jenna is a little...flighty, but she's not that out of it." She gripped his arm, and he could feel that she was trembling. "Please. I just know something's wrong."

Bailey didn't want to meet her eyes. "I wish I could help. Look, I'll tell Chellick myself about Jenna. He's got a lot more pull than I do, maybe he can do some digging on the sly."

She dropped her hand. "Do you think he'll really do anything?"

"Sure he will. If he thinks there's a danger, then he'll act." Bailey thought of Chellick as a bit of a cowboy, but he also knew that the turian intelligence officer wasn't callous.

----------------------------------------

Rita wanted to get drunk, but that would do nothing constructive. She couldn't stay at home, either. Pacing around the apartment she shared with Jenna would just get her wound up even more. Her fear twisted in her guts as she paced towards The Fangorn Club. There was no way she was drinking at Flux tonight. She saw enough of that place during her day job, and right now it would just remind her again of her missing sister.

The Fangorn was quieter than she expected. The bar was a large rectangle set in the middle of the room, but only had a few people clustered around it. She bought a beer and sat far away from everyone else at the bar. Rita had gotten very good at the 'go away' body language in her job at Flux, and she wasn't bothered by anyone as she sipped her drink. That was good; if anyone tried to hit on her right now she'd probably bite their head off.

Jenna had been nervous during the last few days. A few years ago, she'd hinted to Rita that she had indeed been working for C-Sec as an informant. But Jenna had also said that she was done with that forever. After that, Jenna had gone back to being her usual bubbly self, up until the calls started a few days ago. Rita had seen the first one, right during their shift at Flux. Jenna's omni-tool had lit up as if someone was calling her, but no one responded after her initial 'hello'. The calls kept happening, and that wasn't all that had happened. Strangers began hanging around their shared apartment. There were turians and humans that she'd never seen before, just...standing there, as if looking for someone.

Rita had finally confronted Jenna last night. Her sister had admitted that she maybe recognized a few of the loiterers. She had then muttered a name to Rita. There was a krogan named 'Jax' whom she'd been gathering information on during her time with C-Sec. Some of the strangers might be Jax's men. That confession had been ten hours ago. When Rita woke up this morning, Jenna had left for her shift at Flux. She'd never gotten there.

The door to the club hissed open, and three people came in. One was a taller man in a black suit. He had a shorter, dumpier-looking man on one side and an asari in a black-and-white jumpsuit on the other. The shorter man nodded towards a table behind Rita. There was another human already sitting there who apparently recognized the man. The man at the table stood and shook all three of the newcomers' hands.

Rita turned away. The fear and anxiety churned in her guts again. Anybody here could be in on it. Someone could be watching her right now, and she would have no idea. Jenna could be seriously hurt or worse right now, and she had no way to help her. Rita had been careful to keep an eye out behind her as she walked here, but hadn't seen anyone following her.

The door hissed again, and a turian walked in. Rita's beer froze halfway to her lips. The tribal markings on the turian's face were identical to that of one that she'd seen yesterday near her apartment. She finished taking her sip as she tracked the alien with her eyes. The turian went to the far side of the room opposite Rita's position at the bar and greeted another turian. Rita stared at him over the rim of her glass and tried to determine if this was indeed the same person that she had seen earlier. After much reflection, she decided that it was. She set the glass down on the bar and tried to calm herself.

Maybe she could call Bailey? But even if he was willing to come and help her confront the suspect, she had no idea where he lived. The turian could be long gone by the time he got here. Rita took a larger sip. No, this was a lucky break for her. She had to take advantage of it now. The image of a beaten and bloody Jenna rose in her mind, and her face set. Her sister was in danger; she had to act. She tossed down the rest of her beer and started to get up.

A hand gently slapped onto the bar next to her, and she jumped a little. It was the tall man in the black suit. He smiled at the bartender. "One burbon, one martini, and one delrach brandy." The salarian behind the bar nodded and began preparing the drinks. As Jenna continued to rise, the man in the black suit muttered to her.

"Don't do it."

She glared at him. "Excuse me?"

The man in black gave the barest of nods towards the turian across the room. "You've done nothing but stare at him since he came in, and not in a nice way."

"It's none of your business." She got up and began to move around him, but he gripped her shoulder before she could get out of his reach. She tried to jerk away from him, but she may as well have been chained to the bar for all the good that did. His grip was not painful, but definitely stronger than she was.

He smiled at her, but his dark eyes were not friendly. "He has at least one concealed weapon on him, and you're getting ready to try something foolish."

Rita almost spat in his face. "None. Of. Your. Business."

"I have a meeting going on that needs to continue without any distraction. That makes it my business." He paused, and the hard look in his eyes softened. "What's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"You don't seem the criminal type, but you were about to try confronting a dangerous one. That means you're desperate."

"It's..." She trailed off. Ordinarily, Rita would never have even thought about confiding in a stranger. But the churning fear in her stomach seemed to speak for her and it all came out in a rush. "My sister's missing. I think she's been kidnapped or worse. That guy has been hanging around my apartment, I thought he might know something."

The man in black nodded. His drinks arrived, and he let go of her shoulder. Rita almost bolted, but something in his manner stopped her. He turned to look at her with another piercing stare, but this time it was a concerned look that somehow made her feel that she could trust him. "Tell me everything."

----------------------------------------

Persephone wondered where the hell John had got to. Nathan's contact had given them what information he had and had already left. She twisted in her seat and saw him chatting with a short-haired human woman at the bar. For a brief moment, she felt an irrational surge of anger followed by an impulse to go over and scare off the other female. Then she collected herself and turned away. The man had been through a lot in the last few weeks, and if he had a chance for a little...recreation then he should take it. It wasn't as if she had a stamp on John's ass to claim him. And she was damn near a matron, after all. She wasn't some flighty maiden panting after some childish crush.

Persephone glanced back over her shoulder and saw the short-haired woman leave. John brought the drinks over and smiled a little sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Did you get what we needed?"

Nathan nodded in satisfaction. "We now have the names of three collectors that could have hired our man. I have one other person to meet, and then we'll be able to get started."

"Okay. Are we meeting them here?"

"No, that will be in about..." Nathan glanced at his omni-tool, "one hour, at a place called Flux."

John took a large gulp of his bourbon. "Actually, I don't think you need me tagging along for that one."

"Oh?" asked Persephone. She knew where this was going, and resisted the impulse to give a smug smile.

"Yeah, I might take a walk around. It's my first time here, you know."

Nathan shrugged. "Sure, that should be no problem. Ah, as long as Ms. Persephone is there. I would prefer some protection, just in case. I don't want a repeat of Barcelona." He shuddered a little.

Persephone patted the analyst's hand, and then grinned at John. "I'll look after Nathan. And yes, John, you should take a break. Walk around, see the sights, perhaps run into a certain girl with short hair...?"

John actually blushed a bit. She wouldn't have thought it possible. "Ah, no that's not what you think it is. She just needs a little help..."

"Ah, help." This time she couldn't resist giving him a big exaggerated human-style wink. "I did think her clothes looked a little too tight. I'm sure you can give some help with that."

He ran a hand through his hair. "No, it's just-"

"Relax, John. I'm just messing with you. Go have some fun."

John got a set look on his face and stood. "I will. See you back at the ship." He followed a turian out of the bar.

----------------------------------------

Numelus kept the human woman in sight with no problem. On her trip to the club, she had given him a bit of trouble by looking behind herself at every opportunity. But he'd managed to avoid being seen, and now it was even easier. Rita wasn't even stopping, let along looking around.

This wasn't the route back to her apartment. Numelus figured that Rita must be trying to find someone who would help her. He had watched as Bailey, the C-Sec stiff, had given her the brush-off. Numelus had thought that the tall guy in the black suit back at the Fangorn Club might be an associate of hers, but it looked like the man had just been trying to get her number.

The woman stopped in the middle of a thoroughfare and opened her omni-tool. Numelus ducked into the mouth of a nearby alleyway and peeked one eye around the corner. She was just standing there, as if she was sending a message.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

He edged back from the corner a little...and then felt a blow on the back of his neck that slammed his face back into the unyielding metal wall. Numelus ignored the quite amazing pain along his face as he rebounded. He spun around with one arm out as he tried to backhand his attacker, but only hit air. The turian got just a glimpse of a dark humanoid shape before the edge of a hand slammed into his trachea. Numelus gasped and tried another feeble swing, only to feel the other man grab his arm and throw him over one black-suited shoulder and into the pavement. He was face down with his arm twisted behind him awkwardly. Numelus croaked as he felt a knee settle onto his back.

The turian tried to twist his head up as far as he could. He stopped when he felt a very cold and pointed pressure on the back of his head, just below his crest.

"There's a knife at your head," said a male voice. It sounded almost robotic in its lack of emotion. Numelus saw a pair of shoes walk around the alley corner, stop, then walk towards him.

He heard the voice of Rita. "Holy shit."

"Take a look. Make sure it's him."

There was a brief pause. "Yes, that's the one I've seen around our apartment. Jenna told me he works for Jax."

Numelus had enough of his breath back to try to talk. "Hey, I don't know what-"

"Shut up," said the emotionless voice. "We know you work for Jax. And I saw you following this woman. No more bullshit. We ask, you answer. Or I get to find out what a turian's brain looks like."

"Where's my sister?" asked the woman. It almost sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"I don't know-" Numelus felt the point of the knife sink ever so slightly into the pebbled skin at the base of his skull. "I really don't! Do you think we'd be following you if we had her? We hoped you'd lead us to her."

The point of the knife stopped moving.

"That makes sense, actually," said Rita.

"Why is Jax after her?" asked the man.

Numelus didn't even think about lying. Somehow he suspected the man kneeling on his back could smell deception. "Jax was sent away for a bit. He was charged with trading in illegal weapons mods. His lawyer claimed entrapment and got the sentence reduced, and Jax just got released. He figures that somebody ratted him out, and he wants payback."

"Why does Jax think that Jenna is the one who did it?" asked Rita.

"He's got an inside guy at C-Sec. They got access to C-Sec's informant files, and she was listed as somebody assigned to Jax."

Numelus felt the knife point twist slightly. "Who's the mole?"

"I don't know, please, I wasn't told, Jax doesn't tell us everything..." Numelus waited in terror, sure that the last thing he would feel would be the knife driving home into his head.

But it didn't happen. "Where is Jax?" asked the man.

"I.." Numelus didn't know what to do. If he gave up Jax, the krogan would have him killed sometime soon. And if he didn't give up Jax, then this man would kill him right now. Right now won out over maybe sometime soon. "He's in a building across from the Saerhow Restaurant. It's on the spinward side of Zakera Ward from here."

"I know where that is," said Rita. "I can show you."

"Go," said the man. Numelus saw her shoes walk back out into the street and out of sight. He knew he was going to die. There was no way this man would let him live now.

"Now listen," said the man. "I'm going to get up and walk away. You may feel like trying to engage in a little payback. That would be a very bad idea."

And just like that, his arm was released and he felt the knee and the knife removed. Numelus waited a moment, then very carefully rolled over. He saw nothing but an empty alleyway. It was as if he'd been attacked by a ghost.

The turian slowly picked himself up. He thought about warning Jax, but that would also mean he would have to admit he'd given up Jax's location...no. In this case, the smart thing do do would be to run like demonic spirits were chasing him.

And so that's what he did.

----------------------------------------

Rita leaned into the aircar and tapped in an address. "That will take you to within two blocks of the Saerhow."

"Thank you," said the man in black. His voice was no longer the cold machine that she had heard in the alleyway. "Go home. Try to get some sleep. Get in touch with that C-Sec guy in the morning. It will all be over by then."

"Are you sure I can't come with you? I can at least point out the building-"

"No, it's better if you don't."

Rita gripped the edge of the canopy frame. "I just...I need to do something. I can't sit around and wait."

He nodded. "I understand. But you can't be anywhere near what's about to happen."

She let go of the aircar and stepped back, thinking again of what she'd seen him do in the alley. "What are you going to do?"

"Make it safe for Jenna." She stared at the man in black as the aircar's canopy hinged closed. It lifted off with a gentle whine and then darted away. Rita watched it recede into the distance as she hugged herself. She had never used a grenade, but she somehow had the feeling that she had just pulled the pin on a very terrifying one. One that was about to go off right in Jax's face.

----------------------------------------

Jax didn't have a desk. He considered it a stupid concept from weaker races. A proper leader ruled through intimidation, and you can't do that while having a barrier between you and the person you were currently scaring the fecal matter out of. Like, for example, the human he was doing that to at the moment.

Jax loomed over his henchman and growled right in his face. " Tell me why you sent one guy to follow the bitch's sister?"

The human put up his hands in a 'don't eat me' posture. "Numelus is our best at trailing someone. If we put too many guys on the sister, she's gonna see 'em."

Jax snorted and turned away. This room was the biggest in the building, but it was still ratty and far too small. It wasn't proper and fitting to his station. He was going to need better lodgings, and soon. Once he'd shown the rest of Zakara Ward that he was back in town and not to be messed with.

The turian henchman in the room dared to speak up. "We'll get her, sir. She got lucky and was able to dodge us. But she has to be lucky all the time. We just have to be lucky once."

"Too much time!" roared Jax. "I want her skull in front of me inside of twenty-four hours!"

The turian had clearly elected himself as Chief Soother. "We'll do it, sir."

Jax ground his teeth and punched the wall nearest him. The human he'd just been intimidating was in the way of the blow, but managed to duck in time. "Oh, I know you will. Or I'll make soup out of all of you." There were also two salarians in the room, and the four henchmen all stared at him and shrank back a little. Jax gave them all a smug smile. "And yeah, believe me when I say the stories about krogan appetites are true. Has Numelus called in?"

"Not yet," said the turian. "But he might just be stuck in a place where he can't-"

The turian's comm buzzed. "Central, this is Station One, I just heard something. Going to investigate."

Jax looked a question at his henchman. Station One was the sniper's position on the roof.

The turian suddenly looked less confident. "Uh, copy Station One, keep us informed."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Jax finally nodded at the turian, who activated his comm with a shaky finger. "Station Six, please check in on Station One."

"Roger, Central," came the reply. Another long silence ensued. There was a burst of static that filled the room. "Central, Six. Found One. He's dead, knife wound to the throat. His rifle's missing-"

There was a choking noise, and the comm shut off. Jax did not survive this long in his life without knowing when to get really serious. "Send the alert, all stations," he said. "We fortify in place here."

Thankfully, there was no backtalk or second-guessing. His men busied themselves with checking doorways and the one picture window while Jax strode to a locker in one corner of the room. He unlocked it and hefted out a seriously large shotgun.

"All stations, report," Jax grated.

There was no reply.

"All of 'em down in three goddamn minutes?" yelled the human. "No way."

"Shut up," muttered the turian. "It's just a-"

What 'it' was nobody would ever know, because the turian's head simply vaporized in a welter of dark blue gore.

"The window!" yelled Jax, and they all busied themselves in unloading a truly impressive amount of ammunition into the one outside opening into the room. After the thunderous sound of their shooting died away, Jax held up a hand to make everyone stopped firing. He listened, and heard nothing. He made a motion towards the gaping hole that used to be a window.

The human henchman swallowed hard. Jax motioned again with an additional glare, and the human got low and carefully crab-walked forward to the edge of the opening. He took a very cautious look outside...and made a shocked squeak. The human stiffened and was suddenly yanked over the edge of the opening. He was gone in an instant.

Jax ran forward to the opening and began blasting downward with his shotgun, not even bothering to aim or look for targets. He stopped after ten rounds and finally looked down. He could see the spread-eagled shape of his henchman on the pavement six stories down. The figure had a spreading pool of red around him. But there was nothing else in sight, in any direction. He backed away from the edge and motioned towards the other door out of the room. He and the two salarians backed carefully into the next room, which had no exterior windows. The only other exit out of the room was an elevator that led down into the basement garage.

They waited. There was no sound for the longest while. Jax debated on the merits of trying to make a break for it. It would expose him, but it would also be a way to make their assailant show their hand.

There was a slight rattle from the room they'd just left; it sounded like a small metallic piece of trash being kicked. Jax and his two remaining henchmen didn't need any other invitation to again unload an impressive volley through the door and the walls around it. After a while, Jax again held up a hand and they ceased fire. There was another long silence.

"Maybe we-" began one of the salarians, before a welter of yellow-green blood erupted from the front of his head. Before Jax could turn, the other salarian was dead as well. The krogan had time for one panicked thought-

The elevator!

-before a shot slammed into one of his elbows and destroyed it. He bellowed and spun, trying to fire his shotgun one-handed towards the now-open elevator doors. He didn't hit anything before another shot took out his other elbow. Jax's weapon clattered to the ground. He hunched his shoulders and began to charge-

His knee exploded, and his charge turned into a tumble. Jax caught a glimpse of a black-clad shape vaulting over him before another shot destroyed his other knee. It was the most pain he'd ever experienced in his life. Jax croaked and rolled over as he felt two more shots slam into his torso. He tried to breathe and collect himself as he lay on his back. He was krogan, he could survive this and much worse.

"I've made a study of your race," said a hoarse, emotionless voice from the darkness. "A lot of reading."

"Hrrr...I'm gonna crack your bones for my stew, you-"

There were another two shots, one through each shoulder. Jax roared with the pain.

"Impressive," said the robotic voice. "Redundant organs. Wish I had that."

Jax didn't waste time with a reply. This bastard wanted something, or he would have simply put a shot through his headplate. Jax heard the other walking around him. There were three more shots, each into a selected area of his torso. He now didn't have the breath to roar anymore. The black form stalked closer, and he heard the dry metallic sound of a switchblade knife coming out of its handle. Jax tried to twist, to move, but his arms and legs wouldn't respond.

"You know one thing I read?" said the voice. Jax felt a light tapping on his headplate from the knife blade. He drove his head forward, hoping to strike something. Of course, he hit nothing. Another bullet went through his neck, and he gagged with fresh pain.

"Naughty little krogan."

"I'm gonna-"

Jax stopped as he felt the tip of the knife slide under the edge of his headplate.

"I read that you guys really like your headplates. Do you want to keep yours?"

The krogan felt a sudden icy fear. Whoever this was, they would rip his manhood from him without a second's pause. "What...what do you...want?"

"Your C-Sec contact." There was no give in that dry robotic voice. Jax did what any krogan would do in that situation.

He survived.

----------------------------------------

Bailey looked at Chellick in disbelief. "You found him where?"

"In one of the ponds in the Presidium. He had my name spray-painted on his chest." The detective flipped a photo of a horribly wounded krogan onto Bailey's desk. The man studied it with increasing discomfort. Somebody had just nearly killed Jax. The famed krogan toughness was the only reason he was still among the living.

"It's all over the news, of course," continued the turian. He cleared his throat. "So, you don't know anything about this?"

"I-," Bailey began, and then stopped. He knew he had to tread very carefully here. He was innocent, but he also had to convince Chellick of that. "No! Why would I?"

"You were the one who told me that this Jenna person had disappeared, and that her sister had said a krogan named Jax was maybe responsible." Chellick tilted his head. "And then eight hours after you come pounding on my door about it, Jax is found shot to bits and floating around in one of the most high security areas on the whole spirits-be-damned Citadel." Chellick raised a mandible in a questioning manner and stared fixedly at Bailey.

"Sir, I really am flattered that you think I would be capable of something like this. But no, I don't know anything." Bailey paused and decided it was worth digging deeper. "Has he said anything?"

"Of course, he's been babbling like an asari hooker. Something about a demon in a black suit who killed all of his men. He also told us where his crew had been holed up."

"And?"

Chellick scratched his ear, a gesture that Bailey knew meant that the turian was deeply troubled. "We found them, or what was left of them. It was an utter slaughterhouse. Ten dead. As near as we can tell, the only guns used were those that the criminals themselves had. I'd almost say that it looked like they fought among themselves...except that two of them were taken down with a knife. We haven't been able to find any weapon that matches the wound patterns of the two knife attacks."

Bailey slumped back in his chair. Somebody had walked into a building full of hardened criminals and taken them out...armed with nothing but a fucking knife? His shocked face must have convinced Chellick of his innocence, because the turian grunted in approval and pulled up a nearby chair. He sprawled in it and regarded Bailey with weary blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Rita, actually? It would do my heart good to know that Jenna is safe."

In the blur of activity that morning, Bailey had almost forgotten about Rita. "Crap. Yes, I was going to call her. Actually, I half expected her to be here this morning-"

"Hello!" The voice was feminine and all too cheerful. They both looked over at the two human women standing next to Bailey's desk. Rita gave both policemen a sunny smile and indicated a very sheepish-looking Jenna standing next to her.

"The prodigal sister returns," said Rita in a happy yet bitchy tone. "It turns out that someone decided to go off and have herself a little fling with a, who exactly was it, sister...?"

Jenna gave a little embarrassed grin. "He was a turian diplomat. Not a major one, but-"

"Ah, that's okay," said Bailey, hurriedly. "As long as you're okay, that's enough for me." He gave Jenna a bit of a glare. "But you really had your sister worried, you know."

"I do know. I'm so sorry...but you know how you can sometimes lose all track of time?"

"Yes," said Chellick in a dry tone, "I'm sure I can relate to that. I'm glad to see you safe, Ms. Jenna."

Jenna gave the detective a little bow. "I really am sorry. I never wanted to be trouble, you know." She extended a hand, and the turian shook it.

"Well," said Rita, "Now that my sibling is done scaring the crap out of all of us, I just wanted to thank both of you gentlemen for your consideration."

Bailey gave them both a smile. "It's really no problem. That's what we're here for. I'm just glad there was a happy ending."

"Yes," replied Rita. "I guess we had a guardian angel this time." She slapped Jenna in the shoulder. "Move it, Little Miss Diplomat-Banger. Let's leave the law to dealing with actual important matters."

Chellick coughed a bit to cover his honk of a laugh as the sisters walked away. He looked at their departing backs, then over at Bailey. "I have a game in mind, Officer Bailey. It's called 'What Do I Have In My Hand?'"

Bailey gave him a level stare. "I'm guessing, sir, that Jenna was actually one of your informants on Jax. And that she was nowhere near any turian diplomat while she was missing. And she just shook your hand for no good reason. So, sir, I'm guessing you have a piece of paper in your hand which contains the name of a C-Sec mole."

The turian gave him a wide and very toothy smile. "An admirable logical inference, Officer Bailey. Or should I say Captain Bailey?"

Bailey suddenly felt a little dry in the mouth. "Well, sir, you might want to read that name before saying such a thing."

Chellick slapped a taloned hand onto Bailey's desk. "No, somehow I don't think this is your name. Shall we read this piece of paper together, Captain? I can always use more people that I can trust."

----------------------------------------

The crew all sat in the Helen's mess, and each was engaged in some pastime while the ship made the transit to Sur'Kesh. Persephone was a little bored at the moment, so she was flicking through news items from the Citadel. Mackie and Nathan were scrolling through the dossiers that they'd picked up on the Citadel and discussing the best ways to approach each potential lead. Camicia was playing some sort of flying game. Persephone was sure that, if asked, the turian would declare that it was a combat sim. John was cleaning and cataloging their various weapons. For once, the assassin wasn't wearing his dark suit and was instead wearing blue sweatpants and a white tee shirt. It was a bit strange to see the fearful figure of 'Baba Yaga' looking like somebody getting ready to do chores around the house.

One news item caught the asari's eye. Something about a minor crime lord who was nearly killed and had his crew wiped out. It was a mystery to C-Sec, although as Persephone read through the story her suspicion arose as to the true culprit. She looked up at John's back with narrowed eyes. There was a little cut on one of his cheeks that she was pretty sure looked fresh. Not to mention a new bruise high on the back of his neck.

"Did she get a little frisky?" she said. John's back didn't even twitch.

"Sorry?"

"Little Miss Short-Hair. Did she bang you around at all? You got a nice little bruise on your neck, there."

John turned his head around and looked at her mildly. "No. Just bumped into something."

"Ah, I see. And that cut on your cheek?"

"Cut myself shaving."

"Of course you did. You should be careful," continued Persephone. "There are a lot of people out there who didn't pay attention to what they're doing. They pay the price for it." Persephone held up her datapad and showed him a picture of Jax floating in the Presidum's lake.

John looked at the picture and then back up at her. "Looks like he doesn't know how to swim." His face betrayed nothing.