Drew Karpyshyn - Retribution

And she wanted to scream that she could do more to help them in one hour than the entire team of turian so-called experts could achieve in a week.

But blowing up at the ambassador wouldn’t help her cause. Instead, she tried to present a rational and reasonable argument.

“I have some experience in this field—.”

“So do we,” Orinia replied, cutting her off.

Kahlee took a deep breath to calm herself, then continued.

“The Cerberus scientists are human. They’re going to think like humans, use methodology and processes common to my culture, but likely very different from what your scientists are familiar with.

“Biology and society combine to create familiar, recognizable patterns in the minds of every individual within a particular species. The way the data is encrypted — even the way it’s organized and categorized — will be more accessible to me than it will be to a turian, no matter how brilliant.”

Orinia didn’t answer right away, no doubt balancing the advantages of sending Kahlee to analyze the data against the risks of letting a human become an integral part of what was still technically a turian mission.

“If there’s any hope of finding Dinara and her team alive, we have to move fast,” Anderson pointed out, playing on the ambassador’s sense of loyalty to her fellow soldiers. “Your people might figure this out eventually, but we’ll see results a hell of a lot faster if Kahlee’s there.”

Orinia nodded, and Kahlee could almost forgive Anderson for doubting her about Grayson.

“My shuttle’s leaving in an hour. How fast can you be ready to go?”

“Just tell me where to meet them, and I’ll be there,” Kahlee assured her.

“So will I,” Anderson added.

“I thought you’d have to stay here to help smooth things over with the Alliance,” Kahlee said, mildly surprised.

“Actually, I resigned my post,” Anderson said. “Udina was threatening to launch some massive investigation into what he called my ‘inappropriate diplomatic relations’ with the turians.

“The Alliance brass was going to put me on administrative leave until it was all sorted out, so I told Udina to cram his investigation up his ass and I quit.”

“David,” Kahlee said, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said with a shrug. “I’m sick of being a politician. I used to be proud of what I did; I felt like I was making a real difference in the galaxy. Then I became a desk jockey and everything I tried to accomplish got buried in a mountain of political bullshit.

“Maybe this is my chance to do something that matters one last time before I pack it all in.”

“I’ll tell the shuttle commander to expect you both,” Orinia said.

“Don’t be late,” she warned as they headed out the door. “We turians are nothing if not punctual.”

The Illusive Man sat in the chair of his private office surrounded by darkness, staring out at the dying red sun that dominated the viewing window. He was letting his mind settle, his sense of confidence and control returning now that he was back in the familiar — and secure — surroundings. The turians may have hit Cerberus from all angles, but thankfully they had failed to strike at the true heart of the organization.

As cautious as the Illusive Man was with his operatives and operations, he was downright paranoid when it came to protecting this one location. Including Kai Leng, who was on board right now, only six

Cerberus field operatives had ever set foot on this space station. Each time one of them visited he had the crew relocate the vessel to another system as soon as the guest departed.

The mobility preserved the secrecy, as did the harsh personnel screening practices used to recruit the onboard crew. The two dozen Cerberus agents who manned the unnamed space station that served as his inner sanctum were the most loyal and devoted of his followers. These were the fanatics, the zealots.

They were identified through a battery of psychological tests from among the Cerberus rank and file, and part of their training was a subtle yet effective program of propaganda that stoked the fires of their fervent belief in the cause and its leader. The individuals assigned to work here didn’t just respect him; they revered him. Worshipped him. Each would have given his or her life without any question or hesitation if he commanded it.

There had been times when the Illusive Man had wondered if he was crossing a line. Was building himself up as a virtual god a necessary security measure, or merely a way to feed his own ego?

The events of the past twenty-four hours had irrefutably answered that question. The turians had dealt Cerberus a savage blow. Many of his key operatives inside the Alliance were now in turian custody.

Some would refuse to talk, even when threatened with a capital sentence for treason against the Council.

Others, however, would readily spill their guts to save their hides. A number of the undercover operatives not yet exposed would either turn themselves in to avoid the harshest penalties, or abandon their assumed identities and go on the run as the dominoes began to fall.

The vast financial network of companies and corporations that helped fund Cerberus — some knowingly, others unwittingly — was about to be exposed and dismantled. The Illusive Man would still have more personal wealth than he would ever need, but the cost of running an organization like

Cerberus was astronomical, and until he rebuilt his financial support network it would be a considerable drain on his resources.

More troubling than the loss of his fortune and his inside sources in the Alliance, however, was the destruction of so many strategically vital operational facilities. The turians had captured two primary military training bases and four major research labs. From what he had been able to gather, few if any of the personnel had been taken alive, meaning that in addition to trillions of dollars of equipment, weapons, and resources, several of the most brilliant minds recruited to their cause had been lost as well.

However, despite the damage done, Cerberus still survived. The Illusive Man’s network of followers was far larger than the Alliance could even imagine. There were other research bases and other training facilities located in systems both inside and outside of Council space. The network of scattered agent cells operating independently across the galaxy was still intact.

Through this unassailable space station known only to the most trusted few, the Illusive Man could still control and direct his followers while remaining hidden from both his enemies and his own people. Slowly he would regain what had been taken. He would gather resources and rebuild the political and economic shadow empire that had supported him. He would recruit new followers, and construct new facilities to replace those that had been destroyed. He had already put contingency plans in place to get new operatives assigned to key Alliance positions.

It would take time to recover completely, but humanity still needed Cerberus to protect and defend it.

Despite what he had suffered, he wasn’t about to turn his back on the people of Earth and its colonies.

But all that was for the future. In the present, he still had to deal with the problem of Grayson being at large. He knew Kai Leng was eager to go after the traitor, but he’d need help and support to hunt down and destroy the monster they had created.

Yet Cerberus couldn’t do it alone. His organization was vulnerable right now. He had to be careful.

His enemies wouldn’t be satisfied with simply setting Cerberus back; they wouldn’t rest until the Illusive Man was dead or in prison. They’d anticipate his efforts to rebuild, would be watching and waiting for him to reemerge, keeping a close eye on anyone who could possibly be sympathetic to his cause.