He's on the floor. Cold metal presses against his face, as soothing as it is unyielding. Blood seeps from his nose and mixes with his own watery vomit. It's disgusting, but he's too broken to care.

The weight lifts from his back as she rises. For a moment, she stands astride him, then she bends down to run her fingers through his hair.

"You did well, pet."

Her praise washes over him, but he grits his teeth against a sob. All over again, he regrets.

He regrets getting caught.
He regrets leaving John.
He regrets being alive.

Boots clomp towards them, eager and quick. "I have another one!"

He closes his eyes. Silently pleads, no no no no no.

The hand pauses on his head. "Oh, what is it?"

"It's a toy, I think. A child's plaything. It'd be exciting to see from their perspective, don't you agree?"

"Yes, that's a wonderful idea, Emera! Give it here."

"No. You had your turn. Now it's mine."

He hopes they will argue and forget about him, but it doesn't happen. The first gives way to Emera, and she prances over. Instead of sitting on him like the first, she kneels beside his head, careful to avoid the mess he's made on the floor.

She places a warm hand on his face -unlike the first, Emera's hands are always warm. Always gentle. But he doesn't let that fool him, not for a moment - and then she reaches out for his hand, which is clenched tight by his chin. She tucks the toy - a wooden figurine - beneath his palm, and then holds it there.

At first, he only feels her. A veil of sweetness drawn over vicious glee. Her pride is as vast as her stubbornness, and so she clings to this persona of kindness, of warmth, because she's always been known as the nice one, the one people instinctively trusted. It's like soft silk obscuring the crashing waves and jagged rocks. When she crushes her naive victims upon the rocks, the exhilarating rush that follows is enough to take her breath away.

And then he feels the toy. It's charred, and carries overwhelming fear and pain.

She slips into his mind, slick like oil, and spreads across his thoughts like water. It's effortless for her, for all three of them, because they've done it so many times that any defenses he might have had are now beyond shattered.

Above the cries of the dying child that holds the toy, he feels Emera's delight. She hungrily devours every detail his gift offers, from the sheer terror of the child to the way the smoke filled lungs and how the heat blistered flesh. The child screams for mama. But when no one answers, the screams wither into whimpers.

He cries with the child.

***

Although the Citadel operated at all hours, and thus did most of its shops and services, the diner was quiet.

Sable wasn't even sure what time it was, only that it was sometime in the night cycle and a lot of the lights had been dimmed to replicate that. Most people slept during this time, but there were always the few, like Sable, who did the majority of their business in the dark.

Now, he nursed a cup of coffee and blearily watched the walkway outside the diner. A hanar floated past, trilling softly to itself.

"Did you sleep?"

Sable glowered at his coffee. He'd been here all of five minutes, and already Yuwin had found him. He was pretty certain the salarian had programs in place just to constantly track him wherever he went.

"Did you?"

"I had a nap, yes." Yuwin sounded far too chipper than he had any right to be. "But you, on the other hand, don't look much better. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry an elcor diplomat's luggage."

A scowl grew on Sable's face. He looked up, gaze panning around the diner until he spotted the unobtrusive camera. It was just another dark spot flush against the wall, very hard to see unless you knew what to look for. He stared at it, and made a rude gesture.

"That's not very nice, Sable. You might hurt someone's feelings."

"You don't have feelings," Sable retorted, just as a turian in a C-Sec uniform walked past.

The tall turian stopped, turned, and gave Sable a cold stare. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," Sable tried to look apologetic. "I'm on a call. Wasn't talking to you."

The mandibles framing the turian's mouth flared slightly, before he turned without another word. He went to the counter to place an order.

"Shocking. You were actually polite for once. I think you actually did get some sleep."

Sable sipped his coffee. It didn't help the groggy hung over feeling he had. But it still helped make being conscious just that much more bearable.

"You have data for me. Send it."

"No please?"

"Yuwin," Sable growled. "Don't waste my time."

"Hehehe." The salarian's laugh was quick and a little bit staccato. It reminded Sable of a barking dog. "I'll get you another coffee. You'll need it."

True to his word, a few minutes later, a petite woman with graying hair cut short came by with a second mug of coffee. She set it down on his table with a pleasant smile.

"There you are, hon. Let me know if you need anything else."

Sable just grunted in response. The woman was clearly used to dealing with sleep-deprived grouches because her smile never slipped. If anything, it grew a fraction, amusement dancing in her brown eyes as she left.

His omnitool flashed, indicating a received message.

"There you are. I sent the relevant communications records for Councilor Sparatus. There's nothing overly out of place that I could see, but take a look for yourself. I also sent the Eden Prime report."

Sable didn't respond. Instead, he immediately opened the first file Yuwin had sent.

There were a lot of small day-to-day affairs that were not only ordinary and expected, but also extremely dull. Sable glanced at a few before skipping directly to the messages Yuwin had flagged.

As the salarian had warned, they really didn't tell much. Sparatus had received a report from Nihlus on some colony, but it nothing more than statistics and demographics. It was meaningless and the sort of grunt work that you'd assign to an intern. Clearly, Sparatus hadn't thought highly of Nihlus or was punishing him by assigning such a menial task.

There was also a single curt message from Saren. The reply was just as brief.

It's been dealt with.
-Saren

I've seen the report. Excellent work as always.
-C.S.

The last message marked by Yuwin had been a simple request for a meeting with Councilor Tevos last night. While interesting, it was well within the range of normal. While each Councilor represented their race's best interests, they often worked together for mutual benefit.

Sable scowled. "Was this really all you could find from their logs?"

"What? I'm not a miracle worker. This is all I could skim from the communication logs. His system automatically purges and archives his inbox every 24 hours. Accessing that archive is impossible unless you're there in person."

"Great. Then get me his address." Sable picked up the fresh mug of coffee and took a long sip. It scalded his tongue, too hot to properly enjoy. He grimaced, and considered the Councilor's correspondence with Saren. It could be suspicious, since the timing was after the events of Eden Prime. Or it could be just a routine report from a Spectre to the Council, especially if Saren was pretending to be innocent and Sparatus believed that.

A heavy sigh came over the comlink. "If I told you this was a bad idea, would you listen?"

Sable didn't say anything. They both knew that Yuwin's protest was pointless. They needed more information and there were few ways to get it.

"Of course you wouldn't. I'll send it over, along with his schedule. If you get caught, that's your problem."

Sable dragged a hand across his face. He didn't bother to dignify that with a reply. It was too early to deal with the salarian's snark. Instead, he read the report on Eden Prime.

It was as Yuwin had said yesterday. There were no specific mentions of the beacon. There was an artifact, but it was mentioned in passing. Instead, the focus was on the settlement, the geth attack, and the strange "disease" that had overtaken the settlers. It also talked about how John and his ground team had rescued an Alliance soldier who'd been stationed there, and her report only backed up the geth claim. There was a mention of bombs planted near the artifact, too, but that odd detail was added almost as an afterthought. Near the end were the details surrounding the Spectre Nihlus' death. The sound of a gunshot, followed by a skirmish with the geth, then the discovery of Nihlus' body, a bullet hole in the back of his skull. The only thing tying it to Saren was the dockworker's testimony.

Idly, Sable drummed his fingers on the table. With just this on the table, there was no way they were going to pin Nihlus' death on Saren. At this point, they could just write it off as a tragic event due to the overwhelming geth attack. It didn't matter that Nihlus was a skilled Spectre, and that a few geth would pose little trouble to him. Anyone who looked close could see the oddities of the situation, but at a brief glance - probably all the Council would give this matter unless otherwise forced - everything could be explained away as the geth's fault.

"There's more to this" Sable finally muttered. "And if I know John, he's not going to let this lie. What's he doing now?"

"Sleeping," came the dry reply. "It's the middle of the night, Sable."

Sable rolled his eyes. "It's early morning actually, and you know what I meant."

With an exaggerated sigh, Yuwin did an impressive impression of a dramatic teenaged girl. "Oh, very well. You're worse than a nosy mother-in-law. Your brother's made friends with a former C-Sec officer, a Garrus Vakarian who apparently also had some information on Saren. He's been more productive than you."

"Shut up," Sable muttered. He grabbed his mug and took a long swallow. It was still too hot, but he didn't care.

He returned his attention to his omnitool, the orange-red display hovering over his arm. A small blinking section informed him he had a new message from Yuwin, but before he looked at it, he sent a quick, covert message to John. His brother's inbox would no doubt be monitored by the Alliance, so he kept it vague and brief.

Looking into things. Keep safe.

It would show as an anonymous sender, but John would know who it was from. They'd keep in touch this way, though sometimes it would be months between messages.

He opened up the schedule Yuwin had sent him. After a brief glance, he gave a tight smile. The Councilor had an oddly early meeting in less than an hour. Perfect.

That was just enough time to prepare.

***

"Is it done?" Sable kept his voice soft. He leaned and peeked around the corner. Nothing but a sterile white hallway greeted him.

He had his suit fully cloaked, but even that meant little against the pressure sensors built into the floor. He could fool cameras that tracked heat and movement, but he couldn't float. Well, not unless he used biotics, but there might even be sensors for that, too.

"Not yet."

Sable frowned. "I thought you said it was quick."

"Against normal security systems, yes." Annoyance crept into the salarian's voice. "This is not normal!"

"It's a building," Sable retorted. "Not the Alliance's weapons research database."

"Are you forgetting which building it is? I knew it. All that stress is ruining your memory. I'll find a doctor for you."

"Yuwin," Sable growled. "Is your virus working or not?"

"Of course it's working. What do you take me for - an amateur?" The salarian scoffed. "All right. The entire building's going to go dark. You have maybe five minutes before the virus is routed. Actually, make it four."

"Right." Even though no one could see it, Sable gave a firm nod. "Blow the charges soon as the power is out."

He'd set explosives three floors down, near the apartments of a well-known lawyer. She happened to be an asari, and there was a lot of shady interactions in her past. It was a well known secret that her success was based more on her connections rather than legal skill, and her ethics angered quite a few. So it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to stage an attack, and blame it on some vigilante group.

The whole thing wouldn't only serve as a distraction, but it would also pull the attention away from this particular floor in the aftermath. As far as last minute plans, Sable was pleased with this one.

Without warning, the lights went out. There'd been a low hum from the power before, but in an instant, Sable was plunged into absolute silence and darkness.

Then, from somewhere below came a muffled boom.

"Charges detonated."

He smiled.

His helmet had a visual display built into the visor. Now it showed him his surroundings in muted shades and defined shapes. He disengaged his suit's cloaking effect, then slipped around the corner. He headed for the single door in the middle of the hallway.

As he went, he pulled the pack from his shoulder. It bumped against his hardsuit with a faint thunk. The sound wasn't loud, but in a dead, dark hallway, it might as well have been a gunshot. He froze for all of a second, silently berating himself for not being more careful.

At least this area was entirely set aside for the turian Councilor, so there shouldn't be anyone else within earshot. Sable was banking on this.

Within his pack he had a tool designed to manually open mag-locked doors. It wasn't uncommon to have a couple sitting in the utility room of these buildings, because in the event of a power failure it was the only way to get through these doors from the outside.

Now he took it out and set it against the door, making sure to place it over the internal lock. A green light flickered on and a low hum came from the tool as it energized. Even if he let go now, it would remain where it was, since it "held" onto the magnet lock.

Adjusting his grip, Sable began to slide the tool sideways along the door. He had to lean into it, bracing his feet against the effort. The maglocks were no small mechanisms, and it took real effort to pull them out of their sockets.

"You in yet?"

Sable grunted. "Almost."

"Really? You should hurry. The clock's ticking."

"Shut up," Sable hissed. With a last shove, the lock slid the last inch. A dull clunk came from the door. He turned the tool off, removed it from the door, and returned it to his pack. Then he dug his fingers unto the recessed handle and slid the door open.

Councilor Sparatus' apartments opened to him. Sable wasted no time going inside and closing the door. He took a few precious moments to slide the lock back into place.

"You only have a couple of minutes left," Yuwin informed him. The salarian sounded disgustingly cheerful.

Sable chose to ignore that comment. It wasn't helpful in the slightest. He flicked on a light on his helmet. His visor instantly adapted to the light, providing a clearer view.

A quick sweep of the area showed spartan living quarters and a functional desk alongside a wall of floor to ceiling windows. They were currently tinted for privacy, which was a good thing for him. There were very little personal effects and even less personality. Sparatus clearly preferred function and efficiency over everything else.

"This guy needs a decorator."

Sable crossed over to the desk, and ran gloved fingers along the side.

"Well, when you fail miserably at being a snoop, perhaps you could open up a decorating business and see if he'll hire you."

Eyebrow twitching, Sable pulled out a small sheet of what looked like clear round stickers, and stuck one on the side of the desk. Once it adhered, it was entirely invisible.

He moved around the desk, observing what lay on top of it. A com unit, a datapad, and a model of some old turian ship. It was the first bit of memorabilia that Sable had seen, and he canted his head, curious.

Now wasn't the time to be curious, however. He brought up his omnitool, the orange-red glow casting the desk in an eerie hue.

"I've got a datapad." He ran the omnitool over it, scanning it. "Encrypted, looks like." And secured against hacking and unauthorized access, but that meant little against Yuwin's illegal software.

"You making a copy?"

"Yeah. I'll send you the file later."

"That's very nice, but you need to start on your exit plan."

Sable moved away from the desk. It would have been nice to look around more, but there was no time. So he quickly circled once around the apartments, planting 6 more 'stickers' throughout.

"Sable." Yuwin's tone was serious, which was a giant warning in of itself.

"I know," Sable hissed. He spun away from the bookshelf and hurriedly went to the vent at the far wall. It faced the desk and the window, and was an unobtrusive square just large enough for him to crawl into.

At a glance, it was an obvious escape route and a security hazard, but in reality, it was a place that people didn't dare venture. The vents were part of a massive network of air filtration that not only ventilated this apartment building, but also joined with that of every building on this block. Trying to navigate the vents was like asking to fly through space without a ship. Impossible.

Which made it a perfect option for Sable.

He called on his biotics, blue flaring around his form as the energy buzzed through his bones. A metallic flavor bloomed on his tongue. He grimaced, then reached out towards the vent concentrating.

Its cover abruptly flared blue. When Sable pulled back with his hand, the cover followed, sliding out of the wall with an awful scraping sound.

"You have seconds," Yuwin informed him, emphasizing the last word.

Holding the vent cover aloft, Sable dove into the vent headfirst. His armor clanged and echoed down into the darkness, but he was past caring now. Twisting in the narrow space, he curled his fingers, reaching. The vent wobbled in midair, and came back sluggishly.

His brow furrowed as a dull throb appeared behind his left eye. He grit his teeth, biting back a grunt, and pulled on his biotics even more. The vents filled with blue light, and for a moment, he could see smooth silver walls with perfect clarity. Seamless, flawless, as if grown rather than created.

He yanked. The vent cover slammed home with a vicious clang. And not even a second later, the apartment beyond flooded with light. It poured through the slits in the vent cover, blinding Sable. He jerked his chin around, closed his eyes, and let out a long, heavy exhale.

"Sable?"

"I'm good," he spoke softly.

A pause. Then, "Good. You cut it close."

One corner of Sable's lips lifted. "Isn't that how I'm supposed to do it?"

"Idiot. Don't drag me down with you. Just get moving, and let me know when you're out."

"Got it." With that, Sable shuffled around and crawled deeper into the vent. His armor clanged and made an awful racket, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He'd just have to hope no one was listening too closely to the vents.

It didn't take long before he reached a fork in the vents. He paused, then opened his omnitool. A few taps later, and he had a 3d holographic map of the building's air filtration system.

Because of how insulated the system was, he'd lost contact with Yuwin as soon as he ventured a dozen feet into the vents. So to ensure he'd be able to find his way, Yuwin had found old schematics and downloaded them. They were really old, like a century or more, but that was fine. No one was going to rearrange an internal structure like this.

"Left," Sable muttered, eyeing the map. "Then right." That was simple enough. He closed the map and crawled into the left passageway.

It was entire dark here, so he had to rely on his helmet's headlight to find his way. Each passageway looked the same, and was narrow enough that he constantly bumped shoulders on the sides. He had to keep his head down, too.

Sable wasn't usually bothered with tight spaces, but as he navigated his way though, he found himself struggling to keep focused. One turn after another, on and on, and he started to wonder if he'd ever get through.

Left is next, he reminded himself, forcing a calm. The ache in his head continued to persist, a steady throb that pulsed in time with his heart beat.

He came to a sudden opening in the floor, and stopped. That... hadn't been in the map. Yuwin and he had plotted out a mostly level path, save for a upwards climb near the end.

He looked ahead, and saw the left turn was where it should be, but the gap in the floor led to a lower level of vents. Unease curled in his gut as he leaned forward, shining the headlight into its depths. This wasn't supposed to be here.

The throbbing in his head grew stronger, and he winced. There was nothing to do but keep going, he decided. He'd been very careful to follow the map exactly, but maybe there was an error with it.

Sable carefully passed over the opening, and continued on. The next turn was at a three way fork, and he had to take the left one again.

But when he got there, there was no left hand turn. There wasn't even a three way fork. The passage went straight, with a branch to the right.

Sable's heart sank. He stared at the two paths in silence. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere?

With a quiet curse, he brought up the map again. He zoomed in, studying the route they'd planned on. He was sure he'd followed it to the T, but something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

He let the map vanish, his omnitool growing dark. And he crouched there, running through his options.

Either way, he could no longer follow the map. If this part had changed, then what else was different? Even worse, Yuwin was also out of reach.

That meant he was on his own. Deep in the vents, with a faulty map and no idea where to go.

"Great," he muttered.