The Helen's medbay had just about enough space for a bed and some automated equipment. Persephone made sure that John was stable; the human had passed out soon after they'd gotten him on board. She made sure to give him plenty of anesthetic before taking the bandages off of his skinned hand. The wet squelching sound as she did so would be something she'd remember for a good long while. His hand was now encased in a glove filled with medi-gel. Fortunately, he hadn't woken up at all.

She closed the medbay door and turned to face the rest of the crew. "He's sleeping. We should get going. Vasir gave us the location of that clinic she mentioned."

"I don't like it," said Camicia. "That Spectre is off. I can't put my finger on it, but I don't trust her. We should run for it while she's busy."

"She knows our ship ID code," replied Persephone. "We could probably make it out of Council space if we run. But we'd never be able to come back without the law hounding us. And besides, we need to get John to a clinic anyway."

"Our medbay isn't enough?" asked Mackie.

"For most of his injuries, it's fine. The problem is the...missing flesh on his hand," said Persephone. "He needs to get that replaced using cloned tissue from his own cells. That's a lot more than our equipment can do."

Nathan nodded. "And we also have to get the Janis sisters to a safe location. This clinic that Tela recommended should provide an opportunity to do that."

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

The clinic on Trategos had accepted the sudden arrival of the Helen and its crew with aplomb. Any questions they had were deferred by Persephone, who told them to talk to Vasir when the Spectre arrived. The settlement itself was far underground for protection against the bitter cold of the planet's icy surface. They'd parked their ship in an underground hangar and waited for the doctors to finish working on John.

The central area of the village was a large room set up much like a park. The lighting was bright and cheerful in imitation of normal sunshine. There were also many potted plants and even some small trees set here and there to give the illusion of outdoors. Mackie and Nathan sat on a bench and looked at a large viewscreen that showed a real-time image of the surface. Although it was apparently 'day' from the amount of lighting in the room, the outside showed a frosty evening landscape. Trategos' nights were spectacular. The magnetic field of the ice planet was highly tilted with respect to its spin axis, and as a result the auroras were visible even at low latitudes.

The pair stared at the evening light show for a while before Mackie spoke.

"Did he talk to you? He's said maybe four words to me since Carcosa."

Nathan shook his head. "Just a few sentences. Apart from that, John has not spoken to me at all. I don't know if it's just exhaustion, drugs, or something worse."

"What did he tell you?"

Nathan leaned forward. He placed his elbows on his knees and sighed. "That I was right. Batara had an ulterior motive and allowed herself to be arrested and deported to that monastery."

Mackie smiled. "I guess that's a win for you, eh?"

"No. I should have been able to determine her ultimate intent. It was obvious, in hindsight." He leaned back. "My mental model of her should have allowed me to figure it out. Perhaps I'm losing my touch."

The young man rubbed one eyebrow. "Okay, dude, let's recap. First, she was alien, okay? Asari look human, but they sure don't think human. Second, she was a psychic vampire who liked to suck people's souls out of their eyes. Third, she had decades to plan this out. You had, what, a week or two?"

Nathan shrugged. "Perhaps. It's still something I should have caught."

The analyst looked so stricken that Mackie reached down and took his hand. He half expected Nathan to jerk his hand away, but that never happened. "We all mess up, Nathan. The only thing we can do is be there to watch out for each other."

Nathan gave a small smile, and actually squeezed Mackie's hand. The little bit of physical contact made the younger man feel a whole lot better.

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

John stared out of his room's viewscreen at the shifting, glowing patterns of the Trategos aurora. His left hand was encased in a large opaque cylinder, one with several large tubes running into it from a plethora of equipment underneath his bed. The hand didn't hurt anymore, but it itched something fearsome.

There was a gentle knock at the door, and it hissed open to reveal Persephone. She came in and sat next to his bed. He nodded a greeting at her.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Okay."

"How's the hand?"

He shrugged. "Itchy. I guess that's a good sign, right?"

The asari bit her lip. "Yeah, it is. It means your nerves are regenerating properly. We just got a message. Vasir is on her way here. She'll probably arrive in a couple of days."

He nodded again in reply.

She looked down at the machinery underneath his bed. "You know...we could get this all on board the Helen. I've spoken with the other crew. We can be out of here in thirty minutes flat."

He gave a ghost of a smile. "Make a run for the border, eh?"

"I don't trust her. Maybe it's because of how long she made us wait. You were in danger, but she didn't want to hear about it."

He looked out of the 'window' for a little bit. "And what if our trail to Illium leads back into Citadel space?"

"We can deal with it then."

John shook his head. "We've done enough running around with half a plan. We have a mission. If Vasir tries to stop us from carrying it out, at that time we'll deal with her."

"Just like that? She's a Spectre, John."

"She's one person. Nobody's invincible." He looked down at the cylinder covering his hand. "Certainly not me."

Persephone looked at his encased hand as well. "I also wanted to say...I'm sorry."

John's forehead wrinkled. "For what?"

"I was the one who pushed you into taking on Batara. It was a distraction from our mission. And it nearly killed you."

He waved his good hand. "You were right about the necessity. Batara had plans that needed to be stopped." John looked down. "If anyone screwed up, it was me."

"You? No, you..."

"I should have done it. I should have just killed them all. Five lives in exchange for thousands. It was a simple piece of math."

The words took a little while to sink in. "No, that would be murder. Straight up murder. And you don't do that..."

"Don't I?" His black eyes met hers. "You know very little about me, Persephone. Not everything is in the Organization's archives. There is a reason that a bunch of scary Russian hard men called me the boogeyman."

"I know enough about you to know that you don't kill civilians. Those scientists weren't in the game. You did the right thing."

He didn't respond, so she pressed on. "And two of those scientists are still alive, thanks to us. Thanks to you."

John looked away and shook his head. "I've gotten sloppy, Persephone. Too sentimental for my own good."

"You don't mean that, John."

"I do. What happened on Carcosa showed me that."

There was a long silence.

Persephone stood. "Just get some rest, John. You'll feel better once you've healed up."

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

The Janis sisters had stayed on board the Helen for the most part. They'd been set up in the ward/mess area with a couple of cots. They seemed to be okay with Tela Vasir's insistence that they stay with John's crew and not immediately depart. Mackie was doing his best to keep them entertained and at ease, but it took a lot of his considerable people skills to do so.

Now the wardroom was even more crowded. The six members of John's crew, plus the two sisters, plus the larger figure of Tela Vasir herself, meant that it was pretty much standing-room only. John idly wondered if it had been this crowded when the Helen had been fully staffed with turians.

John's hand was still encased, but now in a smaller cylinder. Most of the new flesh had been grown, and it was now down to some final epidermal layers. His bedful of machinery had been reduced to a small briefcase-sized unit which whirred at his feet.

The Spectre looked at John for a long moment before starting to speak. "Thanks for not running. This whole thing is messy enough, and I didn't need the additional headache. So now let's get a few things in order."

Vasir looked at the Janis sisters. "My ship has enough room for both of you, and I'm heading back to the Citadel anyway. I'll be taking you home."

Anedra nodded and hugged her sister. "Thanks. But...why did we have to stay here?"

"Yeah," added Sheia. "I mean, we're grateful and all but we could have gotten transport off of Trategos a week ago."

The big asari looked flatly at them. "We need to get the cover story straight."

"Cover story?" Anedra gave Vasir a puzzled look.

The Spectre sighed. "This is a...delicate matter. Not only in terms of body count, but politically. The Ardat-Yakshi are not something we asari like to advertise. Councilor Tevos herself sent me out here to make sure this didn't become a public mess."

"So what is the cover story?" asked Gabby.

"Batara escaped and made it to Carcosa. She replaced Emreys as she'd planned. And that was her only plan." The asari's dark eyes looked at them all in turn. "Even if there was some rumored plot involving the Lesuss monastery's records - and there officially wasn't - those records are right now being re-located in a secure location very far away from the monastery."

Anedra didn't look happy. "Okay. So then what happened 'officially'?"

"Valissa found out about Batara, and gave the evacuation order. The expedition's ship was disabled, but luckily a passing vessel heard the distress call." Vasir waved a hand to indicate the Helen. "You landed and were able to get Anedra and Sheia to safety, but Batara opened fire and you all had to leave...yes, all of you." Vasir glared at Mackie, who had opened his mouth to protest. "Mister...Hadlock was injured in the escape. The only ones left planet-side were Batara, Valissa, and Nisell. After a considerable struggle, Valissa managed to kill Batara but sadly at the cost of her own life as well as Nisell's."

Persephone shook her head. "Local law enforcement would have found evidence of a human's presence. Blood, skin, the whole works..." She looked up at Vasir. "Unless you doctored the crime scene before they got there."

The Spectre nodded. "Your boy left quite the mess for me to clean up. Fortunately I work fast."

Sheia snorted. "But why such an elaborate story? So Hadlock got lucky and took out Batara. So what?"

"If you think his name is Hadlock, then I have some sunny beachside property on this planet to sell you." Vasir glared at John and tapped one side of her nose. "My sense of smell is first-rate. And this ship has the stink of something involving Alliance Intelligence. If his name is published as the hero of the hour, then people will ask questions about who, exactly, this mysterious Mr. Hadlock is. Those questions would blow this whole thing up into something very messy. And I'm here to contain the mess, not add to it."

"I'm not an asari, either," said John. "It makes it a cleaner story, having a heroic asari giving her life to solve an asari problem."

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Vasir gave a mirthless smile. "I see that we understand each other, 'Mister Hadlock'. Somehow I didn't think you'd be one to crave the spotlight."

He didn't smile back. "You're right about that. May we speak privately?"

The Spectre looked surprised, but followed John back to his cabin. He held his portable medi-unit with his other hand as he walked; there were a few twinges from his ankles, but otherwise John felt that his physical recovery was proceeding well.

Once in John's cabin he turned to Vasir. "I didn't want to say this in front of the sisters. They're in enough shock without adding paranoia to their problems. But if you're the one taking them back, I just want you to know I'll be watching. And I have friends who will also be watching. We will want to see that they reach their destination without incident."

Vasir crossed her arms while looking amused. "This isn't the Terminus Systems, you know. There aren't that many pirates or slavers around here."

"I'm not worried about pirates or slavers." John kept looking at her steadily.

She dropped her arms as if getting ready to strike. Now, finally, he saw Tela Vasir look pissed. "You think I would do something like that?"

"I don't know you. But I see how much you're willing to skirt the law. Maybe it extends to those two asari. They are loose ends, after all."

"I'm a Spectre, you little..."

"I don't know the Spectres, either. As I said, we will be watching. I trust we understand each other, Vasir."

She gritted her teeth and nodded. "Yes. And as for you, 'Hadlock'...trust me when I say that unofficially the Spectres will know your name. And a lot of them have just as good a sense of smell as I do. For your sake, I hope you keep any future stink off of you. At least while you're in Council space."

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

Bast sat at the counter and sipped her tea. It was far too early in the day for something stronger. She groaned internally as she saw her contact walk through the door of the diner. He was dressed in dark clothes and sunglasses, and had a baseball cap pulled down over his head. The man kept glancing around in a manner that screamed I am trying to be clandestine.

Oh well, it was to be expected when dealing with amateurs. Bast caught his eye and flicked her own eyes towards an unoccupied booth at the front of the diner. The man visibly swallowed, but sat down at the indicated place without any further twitchiness on his part.

Bast picked up her mug and walked over to the booth. "Larry! what a pleasure. How are you doing?"

The Alliance intelligence analyst looked a little more soothed as she used his alias. "Hey, Janelle. I didn't see you here. Have a seat."

She took a seat across from him and looked him over. This guy was definitely a desk jockey with no field experience. "Hat off," she said in a low voice, but smiled while saying it.

"Hmm?"

"Hat. Off. And smile, relax. You've run into an old friend while having breakfast, nothing more."

He pulled the ball cap off of his thinning gray hair and set it aside.

She smiled wider. "The shades go off too. I feel like I'm talking to Ray Charles."

He complied, but his hazel eyes looked puzzled. "Who's Ray Charles?"

Bast shook her head. "You have no idea how sad that statement makes me." Then, in a louder voice, she said "How have you been, Larry?"

"Doing well," he replied. "But I've been busy. You know how it is, always too much work and too few warm bodies." The man chuckled, but he still looked scared. He started to say something more, but was interrupted by the waiter.

They placed their orders. He ordered enough food for two people, while Bast stuck with a poached egg on toast. Once the waiter had departed, 'Larry' looked down at his folded hands.

Bast knew that this was a delicate moment. Up until now, he had committed several acts of what could be called treason; copying secure files, placing them on an un-secure OSD, and carrying said OSD out of a secure facility. But this was the big step. He was going to hand it over to somebody who was quite clearly not in Alliance Intelligence.

"Larry," she said softly. He looked up at her. "You're doing the right thing. Don't doubt that."

"I know, it's just..." he trailed off.

She figured an appeal to his honor couldn't hurt. "You're not doing this for money. Your friends need justice."

His folded hands tightened around each other. "I just wish there was another way. Nobody wants to talk about Akuze, it's as if it didn't even happen. Those Cerberus bastards kill fifty Marines and everybody just calls it a tragedy. Even though we know it was straight-up murder."

There was a bit of an interruption when their food arrived. Bast thought through carefully her next words.

"What was their name?" she asked once the waiter had departed.

"Hmm?" His eyes looked confused.

She smiled, sincerely this time. "You wouldn't do this for just anybody. There must have been somebody in that unit you really cared for."

The man seemed to deflate a little. "Mindy. Her name was Mindy." He shook his head. "She's got her name on that damn memorial on Akuze, but that's all that's left of her. They never even found her body."

They ate in silence for a little while. In spite of his large order, 'Larry' seemed to have lost his appetite and just picked at his food. Bast kept up the pretense, throwing in little bits of chatter which included several made-up stories of mundane life.

Finally, 'Larry' looked up. "Just promise me something."

"Within reason, but sure."

His jaw set. "You promise me you're going to hurt them. Not make deals with them or anything like that."

She smiled again, this time like a panther getting ready to pounce. "Larry, I can assure you our intentions towards Cerberus are entirely hostile."

He nodded. "Good. I've got to get going." He dropped a credit chit on the table. "There's a park on the next block. Find the brown-painted bench next to the fountain. I've taped it in an envelope under the seat. Good hunting to you." The man picked up his hat and sunglasses and left without another word.

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

Jackson smiled at Bast and waved her into Mrs. Carmichael's office. For something like this, a person-to-person visit was necessary.

"Bast, my dear. How was your trip?" Mrs. Carmichael didn't get up, which worried Bast. The other's 'frail old woman' act was usually just that; she was perfectly capable of getting around with no trouble. But now her face looked a little more lined that Bast remembered. She kept her face composed while she set the OSD onto Mrs. Carmichael's desk.

"It was fruitful," she replied. "I just hope this doesn't count as the Organization getting involved in politics."

The older woman chuckled. "No money exchanged hands, and the data itself does not involve any government. Two small but important distinctions which I'm sure Management will agree with. Did you have a look at it?"

Bast nodded. "The Alliance has a lot of data on Cerberus, but much of it is fragmentary. 'Larry's' main role was in tracking funds and material usage in Cerberus. It's clear that the outfit has really expanded its operations in the Terminus Systems in the last couple of years."

Mrs. Carmichael picked up the OSD and nodded. "Anything stand out?"

"Two big things going on in the Terminus. The first is something called the 'Lazarus Project'. Alliance Intel has no idea what the project itself is, but whatever it is, it's huge. The project has eaten up four billion credits so far."

"Well, well. It appears our friend The Illusive Man has money to burn. What was the other item?"

"The other project has no name, at least that they can determine. But Cerberus has been buying up eezo wherever they can get it. And most of it's getting funneled into one single location. It looks like they're building some ships."

Mrs. Carmichael tapped a finger on the OSD absently while she thought. "Why? If Cerberus needs ships, it's far easier to buy and refit them than build them from scratch. Unless they need a specific type of ship, one that isn't available..." The older woman trailed off as her mind worked, then she shook herself. "Sorry for woolgathering, dear," she said to Bast with a smile. "I appreciate your work on this. I'll have a closer look at it and see what I can tease out."

Bast gave her a little bow. "Always happy to help. Does this close out my account?"

"Not yet. John's been injured. He's on the road to recovery, but I think he could use an extra, er, hand. And he's headed for the Terminus anyway, so this information may be of use. I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell you what this is all about..."

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

The Helen was not a happy ship. Gabby knew that it hadn't really been a pleasure cruise before Carcosa, but back then everything at least seemed to be working. Now a darkness had infiltrated the corvette. And as much as she hated to admit it, that darkness was in the form of one person.

John had always been a little scary, but since they'd left Trategos he'd been downright frightening. Gabby was sure he wasn't angry at her or at any of the crew. But something was eating at him, something that made him brooding and short with them all. She finally decided to talk to Persephone about it.

"He can't keep on like this," she said the the asari. "Hell, we can't keep going on like this." Gabby leaned against one of the braces to the drive core, and felt the pulse of it go through her bones. The rhythm helped her relax a bit.

Persephone looked concerned. "He hasn't been abusive to you, has he?"

"No, he's been perfectly professional. But he's also been curt. And it's not just me. Nobody on this ship has gotten more than two words in a row out of him since we left the clinic."

"I know." Persephone crossed her arms and looked away. She was clearly upset as well.

Gabby finally had to ask. "What the hell happened down there? I mean, I know what happened to him physically but what did she do to him mentally?"

The asari looked with some sympathy at Gabby. "Exactly what you think. Batara tried to enthrall him."

"Is he dangerous? I mean, I don't know much about all this. Maybe Batara implanted some kind of command or twisted his mind, something like that."

"No, it's not that. Forgive me for asking, but have you ever been with an asari?"

Gabby felt a little heat in her cheeks as she blushed. "Well, no. I had one make a pass at me once, I think."

"You think?" The asari grinned.

Gabby cleared her throat. "Um, she kept playing with my ears and saying how fascinating they were."

"Oh yeah, that was definitely a pass. I'm guessing you didn't take her up on it."

"Yeah. I'm not prejudiced, it's just that I'm not interested in ladies. I know that asari aren't technically female or male, but they look female so..."

Persephone laughed and held up a hand. "It's okay, I understand. But you know about Joining, yes?"

Gabby nodded.

"The standard description is that the asari share minds with our partners. But that's not quite right. It's not like we just 'dump' every little bit of us into each other. The experience is much more voluntary. There are levels to it."

"Oh?" Gabby was intrigued in spite of herself. She'd wondered a few times what she'd given up by not reciprocating that asari's interest.

"The most basic level is sharing immediate physical sensation. That's still pretty fun, though. You not only feel your own pleasure, but your partner's as well. And depending on emotional compatibility with your partner, you can also start sharing parts of yourself. Your memories and such. The better that you, well, 'sync' with each other, the more you share."

Gabby was starting to see what Persephone was driving at. "But that's all voluntary, right?"

The asari nodded. "The sharing is consensual. But in Batara's case, it wasn't. What she did to John's mind can only be described as rape."

Gabby shuddered. "She pulled memories out of his mind?"

Persephone patted her shoulder in a comforting manner. "Yes. And John...well, let's say he's done some things in his past that he'd rather forget. He once met someone who showed him he could be somebody other than that. And for a long time, he thought he'd left that other part of himself behind."

The engineer pondered it a little. Part of her was curious to find out more about John's past, but she decided it was better to remain ignorant. "So what do we do? I mean, I've been on enough ships to know that our current situation is not healthy or sustainable. Maybe you could talk with him."

That seemed to surprise Persephone. "Why me?"

Gabby was confused in turn. Did she really not know? "He likes you. I've caught him looking at you since I got on board. And after Carcosa, the only time I've seen him smile is when you're around."

Persephone gave a bitter little laugh. "You think he needs a good shag, eh?"

The engineer blew out an exasperated breath. "What he needs is proper therapy with a certified psychiatrist. But they're kind of thin on the ground right now. At least he'll listen to you."

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

John closed the terminal in his cabin and looked up at the flickering blue patterns outside his window. Back when they'd set out, that sight had been something he could stare at for hours in fascination. But now it seemed like just background noise.

There was a chime at the door. "It's open," he called out. The door slid aside to reveal Persephone.

"What's up?" he asked. They weren't supposed to reach the next relay for another five hours. Something must have cropped up.

She looked behind her. "Can we talk?"

Oh, it was going to be one of those conversations. He shrugged. "Within reason."

Persephone entered and shut the door behind her.

"So who sent you?"

She shrugged as she sat on the edge of his bed. "Does it matter? You can't keep on like this, John."

"My feelings don't matter. Nor do yours, or anyone else's on board this ship. We have a mission to perform, and we will perform it."

"And then what?"

He thought for a bit. "I'll get another task. There's always another one."

"And then what? Sooner or later your luck's going to run out."

"Then I guess it runs out."

She regarded him steadily. "If you're such a death seeker, then why did you agree to be frozen?"

John ran a hand through his hair. It was his now-rebuilt left hand, and it still had pink unblemished skin like a newborn infant's. "I don't need to tell you that."

"Oh, I think you do."

John hadn't really felt anything after waking up in the clinic on Trategos. Now, finally, he felt emotion. It was a flare of anger in his stomach. "I was placed in charge of this mission. If you don't like that, then take it up with Mrs. Carmichael."

"I'm not trying to bully you, John. We're worried about you."

"I don't need your worry."

"Okay, fine. You owe me. You owe all of us. One way or another we all wound up on this ship because of you." She leaned forward. "And I'm not going to spend the rest of this mission wondering if one fine day you're going to just up and eat a bullet."

He glared at her. "I wouldn't do that."

"And why not? Why didn't you kill yourself back then? I've read up on what they told you. They gave you a fifty-fifty chance for the freezing process to even work. That sure as hell sounds like flirting with death to me."

John looked away. "I didn't see it that way."

"Then how did you see it?"

He stared at the deck for a while, remembering the time before he went into the ice. He finally spoke. "I saw it as a way to hold on to hope. I was just...marking time after Helen, after I got pulled back into the game. I was forever running around on some job or other for no real benefit. This mobster or that mobster would be in power, but nothing really changed. But, like you said, I figured my luck would run out sooner or later. And then I'd finally get some sleep without dreams."

Persephone nodded. "I see. You were a death seeker after all."

"I guess. Until Winston offered me the chance for a dreamless sleep."

She smiled grimly. "And without doing anything as dishonorable as suicide."

John looked at the floor. "Yeah. And I guess in the back of my head I had some hope that things would change for the better." He gazed out the cabin window at the light show outside. "And then I got unfrozen and, for a little while, I had the crazy notion that things had improved. We'd made it. Humanity, I mean. We hadn't gone and wiped ourselves out."

"You felt hope again," said Persephone. She didn't phrase it as a question.

He nodded. "I got distracted by all the shiny new things and new people...people like you." John made a wry gesture at Persephone. "Even hearing about the Reapers didn't stop my optimism. For a long time, I thought I had left Baba Yaga behind. I thought I could change. It took Carcosa to show me the way things really are." John looked down at his rebuilt hand. "This universe won't let me be anything else."

"That's what you think now. But that isn't so. There's plenty of beauty out there as well." She leaned forward. "John, I don't want to see you like this. I have an inkling of what she did to you, and it infuriates me. Both because of the damage it did to you as well as to us."

"Us?"

She gave him a sad smile. "We mature more slowly that humans, but I still have a couple hundred years of experience more than you. I know when to stop dancing around and talk things over like adults."

John actually felt his face flush a little. "I thought I was being discreet."

Persephone chuckled. "Why not tell me you were interested? This isn't a military ship. There's no law against it."

"I guess I thought you deserved better than me. I'm not anything like a good man."

She stood back upright and arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And you think I'm as pure as the driven snow? There's a reason I had to leave asari space and go work for a human syndicate on Earth."

He felt a tingle of surprise. "Oh. I see."

The asari rubbed her crest tiredly. "Listen, John, I'm your friend. No matter what else happens between us, remember that. And as your friend, I'm here to tell you that you don't gain an edge by being cruel. Or callous. You just get a head full of bad memories." She looked away. "Trust me on that. If you ever want to talk, just let me know."

She stood and walked out of the cabin without looking back.