A second later a familiar turian figure emerged from behind the debris he’d been using for cover, his rifle trained directly on Anderson’s chest.

“What are you doing here?” the Spectre demanded.

“The same thing you are,” Anderson said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Trying to find out who was behind the attack on Sidon.”

Saren snorted in disgust, but didn’t lower his weapon. “You lied to me, human.” The way he said

“human” made it sound like an insult.

Anderson didn’t say anything. The Spectre had found his way to the Dah’tan plant; he was smart enough to put the pieces together.

“Artificial intelligence is a violation of Citadel Conventions,” Saren continued when he didn’t respond. “I will report this to the Council.”

Again, Anderson remained silent. He had the impression Saren was still digging for information. Whatever the turian was looking for, Anderson wasn’t going to be the one to accidentally give it to him.

“Who was behind the attack on Sidon?” Saren asked, his voice heavy with the implied threat as he brought the rifle sight up to his eye and took dead aim at the lieutenant’s chest.

“I don’t know,” Anderson admitted, staying perfectly still. Saren fired a shot into the ground at his feet.

He flinched, but didn’t step back. “I said I don’t know!” he shouted, letting his anger boil over. He was almost certain Saren meant to kill him, but he wasn’t going to go down begging for his life. He wasn’t going to let some turian thug intimidate him!

“Where is Sanders?” Saren barked, changing tactics.

“Somewhere safe,” Anderson snapped back. There was no way in hell he was going to let this monster get anywhere close to Kahlee.

“She’s lying to you,” Saren told him. “She knows much more about this than she’s told you. You should question her again.”

“I’ll run my investigation, you run yours.”

“Maybe I should focus on finding her, then,” he said, his voice dripping with menace. “If I do, my interrogation will uncover all her deepest secrets.”

Anderson felt his muscles tense, but he refused to say anything more about Kahlee.

Realizing the human wasn’t going to rise to the bait, the turian switched topics yet again. “How did you get here?”

“I’m done answering questions,” Anderson said flatly. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”

The turian took a long look at the surrounding area, scanning the horizon in the fading light. He seemed to reach some kind of decision, then lowered his weapon.

“I am a Spectre, an agent of the Council,” he declared, a timbre of nobility giving strength to his voice. “I am a servant of justice, sworn to protect and defend the galaxy. Killing you serves no purpose, human.”

Again, the word was a thinly veiled insult.

Saren turned his back and walked away, heading toward the barely visible silhouette of a small rover in the distance. “Go ahead and pick through the rubble if it makes you feel better,” he called back over his shoulder. “There’s nothing left to find here.”

Anderson didn’t make a move until Saren climbed into his rover and sped off. Once the vehicle was out of sight, he turned and retrieved his pistol from the dirt. It was almost dark; there was no point in searching the debris now. And he actually believed what the turian had said about there being nothing left to find at Dah’tan.

Moving carefully through the deepening gloom of the night, it took him several minutes to make his way back to his own rover.

“What happened?” Kahlee asked as he climbed inside. “I thought I saw you talking to someone.” “Saren,” he told her. “That turian Spectre.”

“What’s he doing here?” she asked, alarmed by the memory of their last encounter and the mere mention

of his name.

“Looking for evidence,” Anderson admitted. “What did he say to you? What did he want?”

He briefly debated telling her a lie; something that would put her mind at ease. But she was a part of this, too. She deserved the truth. Or most of it, anyway.

“I think he was seriously considering killing me.” Kahlee gasped in horror.

“I can’t be sure,” he added quickly. “Maybe I’m wrong. Turians are hard to read.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” she countered. “You wouldn’t say something like that if you weren’t sure. Tell me what happened.”

“He was fishing for information,” Anderson said. “He’d already figured out we were lying to him about what you were working on at the base.”

“Dah’tan’s not known for making biotic implants,” Kahlee conceded.

“I didn’t tell him anything. Once he realized I wasn’t going to help his investigation he got this hard look in his eyes. That’s when I thought he was going to kill me.”

“But he didn’t.” Her words were half statement, half question.

“He took this slow look around, like he was trying to see if there was anyone else nearby. Then he just walked away.”

“He wanted to know if you were out here alone!” she exclaimed, coming to the same conclusion he had already reached. “He couldn’t kill you if there were any witnesses!”

Anderson nodded. “Legally a Spectre has the right to do whatever he wants. But the Council doesn’t condone wanton murder. If he killed me and someone reported it, they’d step in.”

“You really think the Council would take action if he killed a human?”

“Humanity has more political significance than any of those aliens want to admit,” Anderson explained. “We’ve got enough ships and soldiers to make every other species think twice about crossing us. The

Council needs to stay on our good side. If word got out that Spectres were killing Alliance officers without justification, they’d have to do something.”

“So what happens now?”

“We head back to the city. I need to send a message to Ambassador Goyle in the next burst.”

“Why?” Kahlee asked sharply. “What for?” The hint of alarm in her voice reminded him that she was still a fugitive on the run from the Alliance.

“Saren knows humanity’s been conducting illegal AI research. He’s going to report it to the Council. I

have to warn her so she’s ready for the political fallout.”

“Of course,” Kahlee replied, her voice a mixture of relief and embarrassment. “Sorry. I just thought… ” “I’m doing everything I can to help you,” he told her, trying to hide how much her suspicion had hurt

him. “But I need you to trust me.”

She reached out and put her hand on top of his. “I’m not used to people looking out for me,” she said by way of apology. “My mother was always working and my father… well, you know. Looking out for myself just became habit.

“But I know what you’re risking to help me. Your career. Maybe your life. I’m grateful. And I do trust you… David.”

Nobody ever called him David. Nobody but his mother and his wife. Ex-wife, he corrected. For a brief moment he was on the verge of telling Kahlee what Saren had said about focusing his investigation on her, but at the last second he bit his tongue.

He was attracted to Kahlee; he had already admitted that to himself. But he had to remember how much she’d already been through. She was vulnerable; alone and afraid. Telling her about Saren’s threats would only exacerbate those feelings. And while it would probably make her more willing to accept him as her protector and draw them closer together, Anderson wasn’t about to take advantage of a situation like that.

“Let’s get moving,” he said, gently pulling his hand out from under hers and turning the rover back toward the dim glow of the city in the distance.