Author's note:
This started as a little writing experiment. While I was stuck on another story, slowly going brain-numb and leaning toward mindlessly replaying a game, I figured I'd just open a new document and start writing whatever sprang to mind. This is what came out. No outline, no plan, not an official ending to FDEWB, and not carefully edited. Might not be a good idea to publish it, especially since it's a non-'canon' ending to FDEWB which is still in progress, but what the heck. If people enjoy it, good enough for me. I imagine I'll update it when I need a break from more serious writing, but don't expect a schedule.
Despite the young age of the technology, the crew of the Normandy had quickly discovered just how much they took the quantum entanglement communicator for granted. Two weeks spent repairing a damaged ship with an overloaded QEC on an uncharted planet unaware if the firing of the Crucible had ended the nightmares of a galaxy had been bad enough. The fears they all had for their homeworlds, their fleets, and their friends and family had been worse. The moon they had been trapped on was lush and beautiful, its seemingly endless green forests leaving a sweet scent on the wind that persisted into a night lit in an ethereal silver glow from a sister satellite and the gas giant that both orbited. Joker had told her that Ashley had quietly wondered aloud if they had been reborn in the Garden of Eden when they all sat on one wing of the Normandy after the first night fell. But Garrus' grim expression when he told her that all the vegetation was levo-amino had confirmed for Tali that whatever the place was, it was no paradise. If anything, it was purgatory, and if she didn't recover quickly to get to work in engineering it would certainly end up being hell.
Tali had always found burying herself in repairs to be therapeutic, keeping her mind and heart occupied, but even over the course of the weeks that it took to get the Normandy spaceworthy again work had done little but take the edge off her dread. At all hours her fears whispered from the back of her mind. Was her race, surely now less than seventeen million strong, extinct? Critically endangered? Only slightly worse off than they had been four months ago? Had the Reapers escaped annihilation, and were they now decimating the civilian population on their newly recovered homeworld, leaving Rannoch a smoking ruin under the dark haze of a nuclear winter?
Work kept those fears at bay, but the night watch brought others no less haunting. All she had known about the fate of the man she loved was that he had been aboard the Citadel, no doubt the one pressing the final key to end the Reaper threat, when the entire station appeared to have suffered a massive overload when the immense expanding pulse of red energy began. She'd obsessed over reviewing their last sensor logs before jumping to FTL when sleep didn't take her but the data they'd gathered had been cruelly cut off and filled with interference from the staggering amount of energy that had been released from the Citadel. All she could piece together was that there had indeed been massive overloads and a few isolated explosions... or the beginnings of a chain reaction that may have left the colossal space station utterly destroyed.
She had ignored the doctors' orders until it became a softly spoken request from Ashley and Garrus. When she finally acquiesced and fearfully accepted a sedative, she'd awoken the next morning thankful for small mercies that had given her a dream instead of the nightmare she had expected. One of an unshaven strong jaw, bright azure eyes, and a crooked smile, lit by the warm orange light of Tikkun by the sea. That small glimmer of hope kept her going the next day despite the ache of her mending body and physical exhaustion. While she could pray that the galaxy wouldn't be so unkind as to keep that vision from becoming a reality, she knew better than to ask for what she really wanted: a post-war celebration outside a house on a cliffside overlooking the sea with a few dozen people in attendance, her aunt and her lover's mother among them.
Tali had sighed into the darkness at that thought while she waited for that evening's sedative to kick in. Life was not that generous. Not to them.
Jeff Moreau cracked a tiny smile at the sight of Grunt granting access to the apartment. Apparently the krogan savored the role of door warden or bouncer even without a trace of alcohol in his system. It brought back memories that were only two months old but felt decades older, of one happy night where fears and pain had been forgotten. The dark storm cloud they had managed to escape for a few short hours was now gone, but no sun or stars had yet replaced it. The joy they'd experienced upon returning to the Sol System to find the Reapers dead had all too quickly faded.
Joker's gloomy reverie cost him a chance at a high score in his omni-tool game. Sighing, he reset the level to restart the jaunt through an unrealistically dense asteroid field while he adjusted himself in the comfortable couch. Naturally, when he began to settle into a groove an irritable voice gave him a jolt and his electronic fighter craft slammed into an asteroid.
"All right, where is he, damn it?"
Joker started, turning his head again to see an incensed Kahlee Sanders glaring at Grunt as if she would toss him out the immense window of the apartment for noncompliance. The three hundred fifty kilogram krogan only pointed down the hall of the apartment in silence, cowed into submission by the blond's determination. Or perhaps it was because she was a presumably fertile female, which was still a source of respect for the tank-bred krogan despite the curing of the genophage. Who knew with krogan. Questions about them were best saved for Shepard. Or... had been. Joker sighed and returned to his game while Kahlee stormed into the bedroom on the lower floor of the apartment. A moment later, he heard the sound of flesh impacting flesh.
"Ow! What the hell, Kahlee!?"
Joker snickered at the sound of the deep, protesting voice. The fireworks were starting.
"Damn it, David, what the hell are you doing out of your hospital room? The doctors told you-"
"-that 'your brain is still recovering from trauma brought on by moderate to serious duration oxygen deprivation due to, well, being dead.' Yes, I know, damn it! But-"
"Don't 'but' me, David! You're still struggling to use your left side! If-"
"If Shepard hadn't ignored his own damned wounds to keep shoving air into my lungs and pounding on my chest until he passed out, I would be dead, Kahlee! I am not going to sit on my ass in that hospital while-"
"Shut the hell up, both of you!"
Joker cringed at the sound of Miranda's voice. He usually found her Australian accent sexy as hell, just like the rest of her, but when she was angry it was something else entirely.
"Save your idiotic premarital spat for the hospital, or an apartment you do have the title to. If you don't, I'll throw you both out the damned window, and this time, Admiral, I won't bother digging out my old Lazarus Project data to save your ass!"
Well, she had some experience with throwing people out of windows from what he'd heard about Sanctuary. It had put an unsettling spin on the occasional daydream he'd had about the former Cerberus operative clad in black leather.
"And I'll claim I did it."
Joker grinned at the flanging voice that belonged to Garrus, the latest member of the Normandy's Spectre club. Ashley didn't really make use of the perks of legal immunity, but Garrus would certainly make threats using that status to cover his bluffs. If they were bluffs. One could never really tell with the turian. He had, after all, learned from the original member of the club. And that member had often answered claims that he was bluffing with rather convincing violence.
"You're right. I'm sorry."
Kahlee's apology was almost too quiet to hear, and Anderson's was audible only as a soft incomprehensible murmur. It appeared to satisfy Garrus and Miranda, for rapid bootsteps sounded on the wooden floors and then stairs as they returned to the sitting area above. He didn't look. Better to pretend to have heard nothing. It was safer that way.
"Joker?"
That soft and tired voice was another matter entirely, and Jeff lifted his head to see Tali gazing down at him from the second level gallery, silver eyes small behind her purple visor. Somehow they looked sad, even if he knew that should be impossible for him to discern. But then, her weak voice really told the story all by itself. He paused his game. "Yeah, Tali?"
"What was all that about?"
She was leaning heavily on the railing, and fingers that before probably would have been entangled with some apprehension simply gripped the wood listlessly. He shook his head. "Oh, just Kahlee chewing out Admiral Anderson for being out of bed. I'm sorry about that. Do you need anything?"
He couldn't help but be solicitous to her and to her roommate. The two women had been in their own form of hell for weeks, spending much of their time in the bedroom upstairs that the younger Shepard had made his own after taking ownership of Anderson's old apartment. But neither asked for anything, despite frequent offers from everyone who visited or, like Garrus and Grunt, practically set up residence.
Tali only shook her head and pushed wearily off the railing. "No, thank you. I'm going back to sleep."
He didn't bother asking anything further, and only nodded while she turned around and shuffled back out of sight. With a sigh he turned to exchange a sad shrug with Grunt, who maintained his vigil at the door.
"Is everything okay?" Hannah asked from the darkness when the door slid shut behind Tali. Shaking her head, the quarian lay back down beside her on the spacious bed and sighed quietly.
"Just an argument between Kahlee and Anderson about him being out of bed. I think Garrus and Miranda shut them up." Hannah's presence in the shared room had made the dark, quiet nights bearable, bringing back comforting memories of her days on the flotilla where she could hear her mother and father breathing and shifting nearby while they slept if she left her auditory pickups activated.
The room was silent for a moment save for the sound of slow, even breathing. Tali heard the soft rustling of hair on a pillow when Hannah shook her head. "Maybe we should ask them all to leave. I know they mean well, but every time I leave the room..."
Tali sighed again. "I know." Even Joker, who had always been upbeat with words on his lips that kept his nickname applicable, had been so accommodating and... well, not himself. Just like the rest of them. It was yet another reminder that the man who had united and led them all still lie in a coma in a medical bed only a couple of meters away.
No one knew how two men so near death had made it off the Citadel, but a pair of turian soldiers had found Shepard near the beam pounding weakly on Anderson's chest and forcing air into the man's mouth, only to collapse as he was approached. Both men had looked like something out of a nightmare: their armor was charred and battered, blood splattered them from head to toe, and nearly every inch of exposed skin was darkened with burns or bruises. It had taken the turians a few minutes to get the critically wounded humans into a Mako and back to a small team of medics, during which time both men had barely received any oxygen from the aliens that were untrained in human emergency medicine. The physicians had not been optimistic in their prognosis for the older man, but the admiral's uniform had earned him a trip back to more advanced facilities while Shepard remained behind, listed only as a John Doe without identification.
When the Normandy returned, Miranda was the first to hail them over the comm. Pleasantries were not exchanged; she immediately demanded their presence from her place at the field hospital where she had finally tracked down Shepard. He was still alive, but both of the Normandy's physicians and Tali were horrified by the burned and battered state of his comatose body. Half his implants were damaged, one lung had been collapsed, his hair was gone, one retina had been detached, seven bones were fractured, over forty percent of his body had serious burns, and he was suffering from radiation exposure. Miranda had been the only optimist in the group, having been the only one to have ever seen him in worse condition. But that was not to say she hadn't felt a crushing weight on her shoulders and a cold grip on her heart while she scrambled to get replacement implants manufactured and assisted the surgeons at every step as Shepard barely clung to life.
Miranda stared longingly at the bottle of merlot sitting in front of her atop the polished wood of the bar in the lounge. If anything merited getting well and truly drunk, it was the end of a cycle millions of years old that had claimed the lives of trillions and ended thousands of civilizations. But even with both Karin Chakwas and Chloe Michel less than thirty seconds from Shepard's bedside, she had refrained from acting on a desire two months old. Rising wearily from the stool, she took that evening's half-filled glass over to a seat by the fire that warmed the room and left the dark wood of the walls and floor faintly glowing.
Shepard had done some redecorating while they waited for the Normandy's repairs and retrofits to be finished, and his approach had been decidedly masculine. Cream couches and chairs had been replaced with black, the wood paneling on the walls had been stained a dark cherry, and a considerable amount of various whiskeys had been added to the bar to augment the already formidable wine selection. Anderson's mediocre kitchen knives had also been replaced by alarmingly sharp hand-forged blades, to no one's surprise. At the time, it had seemed encouraging, something of a tacit admission that he planned to survive the war and have a life afterward. Given his color choices, she'd wondered if he had consulted Tali or his mother about his ideas. Of course, even if they had, getting them past the iron will that was Shepard may have been a less appealing option than simply living with an army of bold colors.
If only he knew. Miranda's lips formed a tight, wry smile while she stared into the fire and sipped her wine. His apartment now essentially had seven additional residents: his girlfriend, his mother, his two physicians, herself, Garrus, and Grunt. The latter two were something of an honor guard, though both carried loaded weapons at all times and took their duties very seriously, having gone so far as to replace the windows with reinforced duraglass and add military-grade mass effect barriers to them and to the doors. Grunt would have undoubtedly been under orders from Wrex to stay if the young tank-bred hadn't immediately insisted on remaining by his battlemaster's side. Garrus hadn't forgiven himself for not leaving Tali in the arms of one of Normandy's marines to return to Shepard's side, even if she had spent the next few days in the medbay recovering from shrapnel wounds and a serious infection.
But that wasn't particularly surprising. Shepard inspired fierce loyalty from even those who had decided to go their separate ways after the Alpha Relay incident. Even Jack, so completely devoted to her students, had left them under Prangley's command to go to Shepard's side when Miranda had informed those on Earth that he was alive. Sometimes it amazed her that one man should affect the lives of those around him so profoundly while in the midst of a mission to save no less than galactic civilization, even while he went on every ground mission, signed a captain's usual load of paperwork, and kept up a romance with a woman with opposing DNA chirality and a weak immune system. She'd once made the mistake of asking a nearly intoxicated Tali if the man ever slept. "Yes, but you'd amazed how long it takes to wear him out," had been the coquettish reply, to her chagrin. And a touch of envy.
Miranda smiled at the thought of the quarian, despite the quiet ache in her heart. Tali had once developed a brilliant rotating cipher that had allowed her to communicate with Oriana with near-perfect safety, and only shrugged modestly when words of thanks had been weakly stuttered out. A matched pair, those two. Shepard had, in an uncharacteristically graceful way, forced her into having a family by nudging her toward Oriana, and Tali made sure she could keep it that way. But now the woman had a family of over sixteen million to worry about, yet she was stuck on the Citadel with one of its most distinguished members. She knew it was a source of pride that the Normandy had been added to the registry of the Migrant Fleet after the reclamation of Rannoch, truly legitimizing her name, but the toll being stuck in such a limbo while her people rebuilt their world was obvious.
Miranda took another sip of wine and turned her seat to run a hand over the soft green felt of the poker table, remembering with a faint blush a teasing challenge she, Liara and Ashley had drunkenly made during the party two months prior. Though Shepard had gracefully made excuses for he, Vega and Jacob to skip the strip poker with a quarian's silver eyes upon him, she hadn't missed the quiet giggle Tali had uttered at the suggestion. The poor girl needed a chance to relax and spend one evening free of worries about her lover or her people. And in truth, so did everyone else.
Smiling, Miranda began making plans. Though this time she'd leave clothes out of the stakes, as amusing as it would be to see Vakarian squirming nervously in his chair.
At first, Tali had thought Miranda had drank far more than half a glass when she'd revealed her plans for the evening with all the command in her voice she could muster. But sitting at the poker table with four drinks worth of turian brandy in her belly and a giggle on her lips, she could reluctantly admit that the genetically perfect human woman had a good idea. And perhaps almost as good a figure as her own. There was something to be said for tight suits, apparently. Too bad for her she was stuck with eight too many digits; she would have made a good replacement for Daro'Xen. Head lolling slightly, Tali tossed a credit chit into the pot.
"I raise fifty."
Across from her, Miranda sighed, leaning her cheek on a fist. She'd consumed well over a bottle of wine and Garrus was practically passed out in his chair after folding. Apparently, the presence of two armed N7 marines in the living room was enough to let him loosen up a bit... but that wasn't saying much. Opposite him, Hannah grinned cheekily. "If you can't stand the heat, cheerleader..."
"Damn it, don't you start," she grumbled, tossing in a chip to call. "I'd rather not picture a psychotic half-naked convict while I'm speaking to Shepard's mother, thank you."
"I should be so lucky to have Jack's figure," Hannah sighed, drumming her fingers on the green felt. "Or either of yours."
Miranda snorted, adjusting her cards into numerical order as she was wont to do. "As if I've gotten any use out of it over the last couple of years."
Tali sighed loudly, her head lolling to the other side. "Two months for me, but it's like... dog years, right? Since it's Shepard?"
Hannah and Miranda turned their heads to stare at her, the former laughing. "Dog years? What are you talking about?"
Tali shrugged, leaning woozily back in her chair. "You know... it feels longer than it really is. Or... something. I don't know, your stupid human expressions drive me crazy!" Her voice turned a touch whiny, she'd admit, but after that much brandy she didn't particularly give a cat's ass. Or was it a rat? "And he needs to wake up already, damn it."
Miranda snickered while Hannah just shook her head slowly, speechless. "I think she's trying to say that your son has so thoroughly spoiled her for other men that it feels like years since-"
Hannah smirked and splashed the pot with her chips, drowning out the rest of the sentence. "Yes, I got the point, Miranda, thank you. And Tali, while I'm glad you're more optimistic when you're drunk, I'm raising one-fifty for talking about my son's, ah, proficiency." Tali groaned and dropped her visor into a palm, regretting ever agreeing to playing with credits. Though she suddenly began giggling when her alcohol-lubricated mind began wandering.
"That's it," Garrus groaned, "I'm going to go rig the hot tub to start boiling at the first touch of dextro or Shepard DNA."
"Fine," Hannah muttered. "We were just using you as a placeholder until Liara gets here anyways. She doesn't have a sign on her ass that says 'In case of emergency, remove stick'."
Garrus grumbled something decidedly uncomplimentary under his breath as he stood on shaky legs and wandered out of the lounge, leaving the three women to laugh while they finished betting. When they turned their cards over, Tali and Miranda cursed and Hannah grinned, scooping the pile over to her side.
"Damn it, we should have known better than to play with a Shepard," Tali muttered. Glancing up, she saw Garrus and Doctor Michel exchanging brief words before the latter hurried into the room to tap Miranda on the shoulder.
"Miranda, can I see you upstairs?"
All three women stiffened, their intoxication and the game forgotten. "Why? What's going on? Is Shepard okay?" Tali's questions came rapid-fire, but Chloe raised a hand and shook her head.
"No, no. Everything's fine, but Sirta Foundation requested a bone marrow sample and I can't find the records from our last extraction." Chloe folded her arms and gave Miranda a teasing smirk. "And as I recall, you were responsible for entering them."
Miranda frowned at that, feeling her cheeks warming in embarrassment at the oversight. So much for perfection. Tali and Hannah's shoulders slumped in relief, but the touch of disappointment was obvious. After weeks of silence from the sleeping man, any change was something to hold one's breath about. Miranda rose from her chair with a wry smile at her companions. "Be back in a bit. If either of you steals any of my chips, I'll tell Shepard you killed his fish, Hannah, and that you compared him to a dog, Tali."
While Tali and Hannah glowered, Miranda snickered to herself and followed Chloe out of the room. Liara entered a few seconds later, gazing over her shoulder and then at the table in puzzlement. "What was all that about?" she asked, dropping into a seat and uncorking a bottle of blue wine she had brought.
Tali and Hannah shook their heads and answered, speaking in unison. "Nevermind."
An hour later the three women were still drinking, though they sat out on the couches in the living room with Garrus, Grunt, Vega, and the new arrivals of Anderson, Ashley, and Joker while the turian retold one of his favorite Shepard stories. It was far darker outside than the last time they had all shared drinks and laughs in the apartment, as much of the Citadel was still powered down and unoccupied, but the warm glow of the fire and the few neon signs that were lit outside cast everything in a comfortable dim orange glow.
"So then he says: 'Is that a bad joke? I've killed worse than you on my way to real problems.'"
While the others laughed, Ashley slapped her thigh and grinned up at the high ceiling. "Oh, God, I remember that. Shepard and Wrex threw grenades up at the second level, pulled their shotguns, and charged right at Darius' mooks. Garrus and I barely got a shot off."
"I didn't know that was one of his sayings!" Tali exclaimed after plucking her straw free from her mask with a satisfying pop. "I thought it was just something a programmer made up for that horrible VI they made of him."
"Nope," Garrus replied. "And you would have known that if you and Liara hadn't been laid out in the medbay for letting a couple of Thorian Creepers get close to you."
"Well, Tali has a history of letting creepy get close to her," Joker interjected with a grin. "First one of Fists's men gets all touchy-feely, then Wrex carries her butt out of the Council Chambers, and now she's split a bed with two Shepards."
Tali and Hannah glared daggers at the pilot while most laughed, and Anderson spoke up for the woman he shared rank with. "Joker... excuse me, Lieutenant Commander Moreau, are you mocking an admiral?"
Joker's face went white, his eyes flicking over to the redheaded woman while he swallowed. "Oh. Crap. I, uh... forgot she was an admiral. Sorry."
Hannah's smile and reply were far too sweet, Tali thought, grinning. Their pilot was in for it. "Oh, it's quite all right, Joker. I'm sure your brain has just been rotted from all the porn you watch on the bridge while you're supposed to be on duty."
Everyone but Joker laughed at that, many of them unfortunate enough to have heard exaggerated moans coming from the cockpit on night watch before Joker scrambled to turn off his omni-tool. The red-faced pilot shook his head rapidly. "That wasn't me! Damn it, EDI was always trying to get me into trouble!"
"Yeah, sure," Vega snorted. "Next you'll tell us that you, Shepard and Wrex used to teach dance classes." It earned him Joker's glare and a round of laughter. Tali, however, was quiet, staring down at the floor until Liara rubbed her shoulder lightly.
"Tali? What's wrong?"
Silver eyes flicked up to see concerned gazes on her, but she cursed inwardly at being unable to give them a fake reassuring smile. Sighing, she shrugged her shoulders. "Just... a memory, that's all. I, uh... here." Pulling up her omni-tool for Hannah's benefit, she tapped a few keys and brought up a holo-recording, wondering if she'd perhaps had too much to drink. After a few seconds, multiple mouths dropped open in shock at the sight of a small holographic Shepard leading Tali through a tango on the living room floor, albeit a bit uncertainly. Only Hannah appeared unfazed, smiling sadly while she watched her son laughing and shaking one of his feet after a grey metal boot stepped on his toes. Tali let the recording play for a minute, closing it down when a shimmering blue pair of five-fingered hands reached for the clasps on her mask. She wasn't anywhere near drunk enough to let them see the rest of it.
Ashley broke the silence after a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, what the hell? What was with all the shuffling, then? When did he learn to dance?"
"Seventeen years ago," Hannah replied distantly, a wistful smile on her lips while she recalled the memory. "My daughter was invited to a school dance by some boy or another and she couldn't bring herself to say no even though she couldn't dance a lick."
"What's that got to do with Shepard?" Grunt asked with his customary bluntness from his place by the door.
Tali rolled her eyes. "You know, Grunt, if you shut up and let people talk you usually get the answers."
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, but fell silent while Hannah flashed Tali a small grin.
"Thank you. Well, anyways, my husband gave her a few lessons but broke his ankle. Naturally, she suddenly loved to dance. I was off on duty, so Haley blackmailed her older brother into being her practice partner. And then kept on blackmailing him." Hannah chuckled quietly. "The poor boy. He never told me what she had on him, though. I'm not sure I want to know."
"Blackmail? Shepard?" Garrus narrowed his eyes theatrically at Hannah. "You have met your son, right?"
The redhead's smile vanished completely, a frown thinning her lips. "This was a long time ago. He was different: easygoing, uncompetitive... a bit of a daydreamer." Hannah sighed, twisting the platinum band on her left hand. "He had my sense of humor and my eyes, but the rest of him was all Alastair."
"Until the raid," Tali said softly, recalling the traumatized escaped slave C-Sec had called them in to help three years before.
"Until the raid," Hannah confirmed wearily, pulling her legs up beneath her on the couch and taking a sip from the wineglass Liara passed her. "He became withdrawn and private after that. He avoided just about anything from his childhood. He mostly recovered from it all, but I'm sure you saw the scars sometimes."
"I guess that explains why he was embarrassed to play his violin in front of us," Liara mused aloud.
"And why he never really danced," Hannah confirmed. "He only ever played with me and danced with his sister as far as I know. Well, and now you, Tali."
The smile Hannah gave her was as warm as the sensation that had crept into her heart, and Tali nodded shyly, blinking back a tear.
"What, uh... I mean, can I ask what happened? On Mindoir?" Vega inquired hesitantly, wincing when he saw cobalt eyes slip shut. "Nevermind, I shouldn't have-"
"No, it's all right, James." Hannah shook her head and opened her eyes to look at the quarian woman she was beginning to consider family. "Did he ever tell any of you about it, Tali?"
She shook her head. "No. I asked about it once when he woke up from a nightmare, but..."
"He gave you a few small details before distracting you?" Anderson asked, chuckling when Tali nodded. "Familiar story, that."
"He never told you either?" Hannah asked with some surprise. "I thought he came clean with you about everything."
"He told me what really happened on Akuze and Elysium, but never Mindoir. I could have looked it up, but it wouldn't have felt right to go behind his back."
Garrus and Vega exchanged confused glances. "'What really happened'?" Garrus echoed. "Didn't you have access to the reports?"
Anderson shook his head. "Not back then. I did when I became his captain, but by then those reports had been revised. Probably creatively and selectively edited to make him look good for the Council, since he was our candidate for the Spectres. Compared to sterile reports the truth is usually a lot less glamorous. And far bloodier."
"Don't I know it," James muttered.
"Stories for another time," Hannah said. "Anyways, Mindoir... well, the events of it were pretty much what the news feeds said. Slavers attacked, killed anyone they couldn't implant, and we drove them off when we got there on the Einstein." Her voice was strained and Tali took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and earning a grateful smile. "Well... he..." Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "I don't want to tell the whole story. The short version is that he came home to find Alastair dead and two batarians trying to take his sister. He killed one of them with a knife and shot the other one. Haley died in the batarian's last burst and he..." Hannah swallowed, shutting her eyes briefly. "Well... he went hunting, I guess you could say." Hannah's eyes were dark while she stared down at the coffee table, but her lips were curled into a tiny vicious smile. "The marines couldn't believe it. A sixteen year-old killed another seven slavers with his father's old rifle."
The soldiers in the room traded impressed glances before Anderson spoke up, his voice distant. "All headshots... right?"
Hannah blinked, surprised. "That's right. How did you know?"
Shaking his head, he slumped back in the couch. "I just realized he mentioned it once. Vaguely, that is. We had requalified on the rifle range and the range officer asked us if N7s always went for headshots." Anderson shivered a little at the memory. "He got this strange look in his eye, his voice went quiet, and he said something about most of his first kills being headshots."
"That explains Elysium," Liara said, drawing everyone's attention. "I have access to the original reports. After he set up a defense line with some of the civilians and off-duty military he went off by himself and took out over a dozen batarians with single shots through eyes. The forensics suggested he must have gotten them to turn around so he could hit them from the front."
"Wow," Ashley breathed, shaking her head. "That's... well, I'm surprised that didn't send some Alliance shrinks into a fit."
"It was probably a concern," Anderson answered with a nod, "but Alliance command accepted the explanation Shepard put in his debrief; that he shot them in the eyes for the psychological impact it had on the other batarians." He shrugged. "Whether or not that was his motivation, it was damned effective. An entire platoon bugged out, and the traps he and his makeshift squad put out annihilated another two. After that, it was just a holding action until reinforcements arrived. A tough and bloody one, though. Most of them died."
"Spirits," Garrus muttered, voicing Tali and Hannah's unspoken surprise. "Now I'm really amazed I beat him in that little competition of ours."
"You didn't." Nine pairs of eyes swiveled over to the front stairs where Karin Chakwas gazed down at them from the landing, a grin on her lips. "He threw the match."
"He did not!" Garrus immediately protested, sitting upright. His indignation was drowned out by laughter from the rest, who all knew the truth. Well, the truth according to Shepard, but it would do.
"Come on now, Garrus," Miranda's amused voice spoke up, turning their attention to her shadowed form leaning against the wall separating the two living rooms. "You remember the Collector ship and base? All those shots he made on the Collectors while their platforms were still moving?"
"Yeah," he admitted grudgingly. "But those were with that damn stabilized Widow. We were using the Mantis for our competition. A true marksman's weapon. No one beats me with that rifle."
"Didn't you tell me that he put a round through the head of a Phantom while she was in the middle of one of those stupid flips?" Grunt asked, an odd grin on his wide maw while he tapped on his omni-tool.
"Luck," Garrus muttered. "He got rusty when he turned into a real biotic."
"You should have seen some of the shots I made when I was younger. You're just jealous that turians don't stack up to N7s and their dishonorable discharges," Anderson teased, a dark smile on his face. "I heard Shepard tore his head off with those biotics."
Liara shuddered at the memory of Shepard and Kai Leng locked in a vicious melee while the rest of the squad engaged Cerberus' brainwashed troops. And its gruesome end. "Not quite. He-"
"Please," Hannah interrupted, grimacing, "I don't want to hear about it."
Liara nodded but Grunt uttered a low sound of annoyance. "Can't believe I missed out on all those good fights. At least the Prothean had an omni-tool recording of the Cerberus base."
"And we're not going to watch it." Tali cut that idea off, shivering slightly at the bloody memory. "New topic, please."
"How about some embarrassing childhood stories?" Miranda asked, her voice bright, before she suddenly yelped and rubbed at her side, appearing to glare at the wall. It earned her a few odd looks before she suddenly rolled her eyes and marched off toward the kitchen.
"No!" Grunt suddenly exclaimed.
"Who the hell is trying to get in this time?" Ashley asked in exasperation. She and Garrus had begged the 'nurses' to let them find a more secure and anonymous place to keep Shepard, to no avail.
"Huh? Oh. No one. I meant no childhood stories," Grunt muttered. "Talk about Kalros or something interesting."
Tali glared at the krogan, but he was once again engrossed in his omni-tool. "Worms are not interesting, Grunt."
"They are if they're in a bottle of mezcal," Vega said. "And speaking of that..." Rising, he started walking toward the bar but was intercepted by Miranda. She poked him in the chest and pointed at the couch he had just left.
"Sit. I'll get it."
With that, she disappeared behind the wall with an opened red pouch in hand while Vega sat and looked quizzically at Garrus, receiving a helpless shrug in reply.
"Cabin fever. I've seen it before," Grunt commented sagely behind them. "You're just lucky she's not a krogan. It'd be bloody in that case." Tali gazed at the fireplace in the diving wall curiously. Miranda stockpiled the mixed berry; she hated the cherry flavored energy drinks. Behind her, Grunt suddenly chuckled, drawing a few gazes that revealed nothing more than him still tapping away on his omni-tool.
"Something weird is going on with them," Tali murmured to Hannah, who nodded and turned to the krogan as well. "What are you up to?"
"Huh?" Grunt looked up for just a second before staring back down at his omni-tool. "I, uh... sharks? Yeah... sharks." He didn't sound convinced, though Tali wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or the others.
"Oh God, please tell me he's not looking at porn," Ashley muttered. From behind the wall a snort of laughter was abruptly cut off.
"What was it in those Shadow Broker dossiers, Liara?" Garrus asked slyly. "Asari Confessions, was it? Good stuff."
The information broker turned a darker shade of blue but gave the krogan a cold glare. "Grunt, I swear, if you're looking at-"
"Hemingway," Grunt interrupted, squinting at his omni-tool. "No, wait... huh? You're going to dissect me in a lab somewhere? Truck? Truck? I'm enjoying this? I don't get it."
By that point, everyone seated on the couches was trading glances of utter befuddlement while another muted snicker came from behind the wall. Scowling, Liara shot to her feet and marched over to Grunt who tried in vain to deactivate his omni-tool. Biotically charged hands shot out and grabbed meaty krogan wrists, slowly tugging them apart while Grunt growled. "Damn it, asari, stop that! Don't make me headbutt you!"
"Empty threat. You wouldn't dare hurt a fertile one-quarter krogan."
"Don't count on it. You're probably an Ardat-Yakshi anyways," Grunt muttered. But he ceased his struggling in defeat while Ashley and Garrus rose to walk up behind Liara, peering over her shoulders at the mostly blank screen of the omni-tool. As they watched, letters began popping up.
"'Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain'?" Garrus read aloud, puzzled. "I don't get it."
"Hang on," Ashley said, blinking while she continued reading. "'For Spectres you two sure are slow. Maybe you should resign and try your hand at being a Princess'... hey!"
"'...and Garrus should be a poster boy for birth control,'" Garrus finished, lifting his head to turn and glare at Joker. "Very funny. How are you doing it?"
Joker threw up his unadorned hands in protest. "I'm not! The only thing I know how to do with an omni-tool is play Galaxy of Fantasy!"
"And browse porn," Tali muttered from her place in the crowd looking down at the omni-tool. The screen went blank, then more letters started popping up. "Wait, there's more... 'Who's hungry?'"
They all exchanged baffled looks before jumping at the sound of the door buzzer. Grunt yanked his arms free from a distracted Liara and pulled up the feed on the wall display to reveal a volus. A very familiar volus.
"Uhh..." The volus hissed in a breath. "...Someone ordered a pizza?" Hiss. "Double pepperoni?"
Vega shifted uneasily at all the stares he was receiving, holding up his hands. "Hey, it wasn't me! I swear! I just finished eating all that leftover lasagna!"
"What?" Hannah asked, her voice icy. "You ate all of my lasagna?"
"My lasagna," Anderson corrected under his breath.
Oblivious to the group's laughter at his sudden misfortune, the large marine started backing up slowly. "Hey, come on now, Mama Loco! I'll make you some stuffed peppers and empanadas, okay?"
"Uhh..." Hiss. "...The pizza? You'd better pay for it this time or-" Hiss. "-I'm filing a complaint with the Alliance."
Chloe laughed and descended the stairs, pulling out her credit chit. "I'll get it. The rest of you keep the admirals from disemboweling poor James."
"Yeah! I like this plan." James backed up into the kitchen and suddenly scrambled to catch a bottle thrown his way. "Oh, gracias a dios," he muttered, popping the cork and taking an immediate sip.
"Excuse me?" Miranda's voice called from the darkened second living room.
"I mean, uh, thanks, beautiful and brilliant lady of the, uh, raven hair!"
"Shut up."
The group laughed and returned to their seats. All but Tali, who was still staring at Grunt. The krogan shifted uncomfortably on his large feet, scratching his plate. "Stop looking at me like that, quarian."
"I'll stop when you tell me what was going on with your omni-tool. Or do I have to hack into it and put the contents up on the monitor while I browse through it?"
Grunt stiffened, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. "Uhh... no. I mean, there's nothing interesting-"
"Tali?" Hannah's voice sounded puzzled, and the quarian turned to see her holding up a pair of steamed-up food tubes. "There's some purified dextro food in there, too. The expensive stuff, it looks like."
Tali blinked, and the rest of the group all stared at the tubes in confusion. "Okay, who the hell is behind all of this?" Garrus pondered aloud.
"Wait a minute!" Liara spoke up, staring at Tali, who was inspecting the tubes. "The 'truck' thing! You were in the car with Shepard and me when we were chasing after Vasir!"
"Ohhh, right," Garrus drawled with dawning realization. "And the volus conveniently brought you some tasty purified dextro food." He folded his arms. "Good one. You almost got us."
Tali backed up, holding her tubes up like daggers. "Hey, it wasn't me! And you were in that car with us too!"
"He's not that good," Miranda called from the other room, drawing an scowl from Garrus. "And who else can set up a hack and an adaptive program like that?"
"You!" Tali yelled at the wall. "You've been hiding over there since this all started!" She took an aggressive step toward the other living room, but Liara stopped her with an upraised hand, frowning.
"Wait a minute. What it said about being dissected in a lab? I said that to Shepard once, and we were alone."
"Pillow talk," Joker piped up, grinning at the way Tali stiffened. "He probably had a good laugh about your bad flirting while they were basking in the aftergl-"
"Shut up, Commander," Hannah groused while Liara elbowed Joker in the delicate ribs. "I don't really want to think about that."
"Thank you," Liara muttered, ignoring Joker's soft exaggerated moans of pain.
"I guess that would explain the Princess thing, then," Ashley mused. "We were alone when he said that to me."
Tali turned on her, eyes narrowing to silver slits. "He called you a princess while you were alone? What were you doing?" That was her nickname, damn it, even if she hated it and had indeed practically inherited her father's admiralty.
James, Joker and Garrus tried to muffle their laughs behind their hands but Hannah, Anderson and Karin gave them each a smack on the back of the head, shutting them up. Ashley scowled and folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, no. Don't you take that tone with me, Little Miss Hacker."
"Damn it, I did not do this, you... you..."
"Bosh'tet?" a helpful voice called from the other side of the wall.
"Yes! Thank you!" Tali answered, glaring at Ashley. "You little bosh'tet princess."
"Wait a minute," Anderson interjected, forestalling the impending heated rejoinder that was no doubt on Ashley's lips. "Who was that?"
"What?" Tali looked at the puzzled older man.
"That wasn't Miranda," Joker clarified. The group exchanged multiple bewildered gazes in silence before a sigh was heard from the other side of the wall.
"Damn it, where's my pizza? I'm starving."
The rough male voice sounded dejected and a touch whiny, a bit like Zaeed but without the accent. The group's contemplations were interrupted by the very odd sound of Miranda breaking into an uncharacteristic fit of giggles from the other room. It drew stunned gazes before Karin Chakwas and Chloe Michel distracted them with their own laughter, the two women coming to tears while they clung to the kitchen counters. Grunt came next, stomping a foot and rattling the glasses on the coffee table while his roaring laughter filled the apartment.
"It's a damn conspiracy!" Garrus yelled in realization, jumping to his feet. "They're all in it together!"
"Yes," Miranda managed to squeak while she leaned against the edge of the dividing wall, shoulders and chest still heaving with muted laughter. "And it was hilarious."
Tali waved a food tube threateningly at the brunette, advancing on her slowly. "You won't be feeling that way when you get out of the shower and find yourself with vomit-colored hair."
Miranda smirked and held up her hands. "Wait, wait. No need to get nasty. It wasn't my idea. Hold on."
Everyone watched intently while Miranda ducked back behind the wall, emerging slowly a moment later with a white-sleeved arm wrapped supportively around a black clad figure. Eight jaws dropped open in shock when she carefully led the mystery speaker forward into the firelight to reveal a familiar crooked smirk.
"I regret nothing. Now, what the hell are you all doing in my apartment?"
Two foggy tubes of expensive food fell from limp hands to bounce on the hardwood floor, instantly forgotten.