"What'll you have?"
"Uh, Jack and coke?"
"Who is Jack? And what the fuck is coke?"
"Johnnie Walker? Dewar's?"
"Human, either order a proper drink or get the fuck out of here."
Sara Ryder groaned and let her shoulders slump. "You just had to go to Omega. Couldn't just go to the Citadel, huh Sara? Too boring. Too familiar." Looking back up, she stared the Batarian in his eyes. Well, two of his eyes, at least.
"Just give me something strong then. Not ryncol strong, but enough to make me regret it later." she growled.
The bartender chuckled, pulling out a tall glass and a cylindrical bottle filled with an emerald liquor. He filled the glass to the top, the liquid hissing and bubbling.
"This is straight from Khar'shan. Out of my personal stocks. And I'm only giving to you, human, because I want to laugh when you pass out and crack your skull open on the bar."
"Deal." she replied, grabbing the glass and taking a strong swig.
Oh, fuck me.
It tasted like motor oil mixed with Vorcha sweat. And burned her throat like Everclear. But she choked it down and braced herself, looking back at the bartender with a strained smile and a thumbs-up.
"Good shit."
He rolled each of his eyes and walked away, taking the order of a shifty looking salarian at the other end of the bar.
Sara took another sip, letting the alien alcohol do its job. She looked up at the stripper above her, watching her shake her blue ass to the ceaseless beat of Afterlife's pulsating sound system. Her brother's voice echoed through her skull. Dad would be so disappointed in you Sara.
"Well, fuck him." she whispered.
He had given her an impossible choice. Abandon her family or abandon her Galaxy. Scott had already made his decision. He was ready to "find a new future for humanity" or whatever bullshit line Garson had fed him. Well, it wasn't so simple for her.
To leave it all behind...not just Earth, but the Citadel and the entire community of the Milky Way? Everything she had ever known? It was utterly inconceivable. But of course it came easy to him. Alec Ryder. One of the heroes of humanity. Personal friend to Jon Grissom. First through the Charon Relay. N-fucking-7.
"Just a walk in the park you, eh dad?" she slurred, drinking more.
Her father and brother were leaving in less than a month, aboard the Hyperion Ark, along with thousands of others. And they were going with...or without her. For all intents and purposes, it was a suicide pact. Six hundred years would pass before they reached their destination. Even if they ever returned, she would be long dead. She downed the last of the glass and slammed it back onto the table.
Sara then tried to stand; a decision she immediately regretted. The full effect of the batarian cocktail had settled in, making her legs feel like balloons filled with pudding. She lost her footing and slipped, falling backwards. The bar seemed to slow down as she fell, with the asari above her stuck in a looping leg twirl for all eternity. Maybe the fall would knock her into a coma and make her decision for her, she thought.
No such luck. She felt a pair of gauntleted hands catch her underneath her arms and lift her back up. Her savior chuckled.
"Whoa there! You don't want to fall in this bar sister. I don't think they clean the floors too often."
She saw a Turian in blue and black armor walk up beside her. "Mmm, about once a month, if Aria's feeling charitable." he said.
"Ahm okaaaay…hic!" Sara replied, trying to walk forward, but only succeeding in falling backwards into the arms of the woman behind her.
"Difficulty standing. Slurring. Diaphragmatic flutters. Involuntary eye movement. Consistent with alcoholic inebriation." A Salarian voice to her left added, his tone rapid and practiced.
"Yeah, I think we figured that out doctor. Let's sit you back down." The woman said, sighing.
Sara stumbled toward the bar, with the woman's help and sat back down. She could hear her saying something to her companions.
"Listen, why don't you two gentlemen go entertain yourselves and we'll meet up later. I want to make sure our new friend doesn't pick a fight with a krogan bouncer."
"Great idea. Let's see if one of these nice Asari has ever heard of Archangel…"
"Oh, don't push your luck Vakarian. Or I promise you'll be sleeping in the battery tonight. "
"You wound me Commander. Don't worry, I'm sure none of them has the proper flexibility. Let's go get a drink, doc."
"Ah, Omega intoxicants. Unpredictable. Dangerous. But also…" he inhaled. "...enjoyable."
Through the corner of her eye, Sara watched the pair of aliens saunter off into the rest of the crowded club. Turning to her left, she watched as the human sat down next to her, finally getting a look at her features.
She had short black hair, extending to just below her ears, with light brown eyes. She wore little makeup and sported a strong jaw. The features of a soldier. A collapsed Kuwashii visor wrapped around her neck. Her armor was patterned in red and black, with plenty of scuffs and burn marks across its surface. On the breastplate, in silver script, was an N7 insignia.
Sara knew she recognized her face, but she just couldn't place it. At least not in her current state.
"You one of Dad's old pals? Come to drag me home?" she asked, laying her head on the bar.
The woman looked perplexed. "I...don't think so? Frankly, I'm here to celebrate." She motioned for the bartender. The batarian grumbled and walked over.
"What?" he snapped.
"Blue Void. On the rocks."
"Yeah, yeah."
"I'll have another of those...green...kur'shun...things." Sara mumbled, raising her head.
"Oh no no no, you're going to take a little break. She'll have a Tupari." The woman said, sternly. Sara tried to protest, but merely hiccuped in response.
He stomped off to make their drinks, leaving the two of them alone once more. The woman stretched and cricked her neck. She turned and smiled at Sara.
"So, you got a name?" she asked.
"Sara…" she let out with belch. "...Ryder."
The woman blinked. "Ryder? You wouldn't happen to be…"
Sara groaned and sunk her face into the bar table. It smelled like spilt beer and krogan.
"You told me you weren't friends with my father…" she replied, her voice slightly muffled.
"I don't need to be friends with Alec Ryder to know the name. Your father is a-"
"Legend?! Grand explorer?! ...Fallen hero?" Sara exclaimed. "Yeah, try living with him babe."
The woman chuckled. "I see. I seem to collect people who have trouble with their fathers…"
"So who are you?" Sara asked. "Captain Badass of the SSV Daddy Issues?"
The bartender returned, holding two glasses. One, dark blue and filled with ice; the other lime green and fizzy. Without a word, he slid them both toward the two of them and walked away. The armored woman gripped her glass and raised it up.
"Cheers," she said, clinking it against Sara's sports drink. She took a sip and let out a contented sigh. "Commander Shiori Shepard, Alliance Navy and Council Spectre."
Sara had just begun to sip her fruity, sugary beverage when Shepard spoke. Immediately, she felt herself choking, as the realization of who she was speaking to washed over her. The Commander reached out and lightly slapped her back, concern across her face.
"Damn, sorry about that. I guess Tupari and whatever you drank don't mix," she said, grimacing. "I should probably get Mordin over here."
Catching her breath at last, Sara looked at Shepard in stunned silence. For a moment at least. "You...holy shit, I knew I recognized you!"
Shepard laughed, taking a quick drink of her own. "I had a feeling. But I didn't want to ruin our conversation. Nice to meet you Ryder."
Sara didn't know what to say. Sitting across from her, in the seediest bar this side of the Terminus, was a personal favorite dinner topic of her father's.
"Did you see what Shepard said today? Sara, you should take a look at Shepard's mission on Virmire. Scott, do you remember when she became the first human spectre?" And so on and so forth. If it wasn't stories about Jon Grissom or the N7 Academy, he would drown you in details of Shepard's exploits. When reports of her supposed death had reached him, her father was inconsolable. He immersed himself in his work on the Initiative, refocusing his desire to leave the galaxy that had taken both his wife and one of his heroes away from him.
Two years later, when Shepard showed up on the Citadel, alive and well, under a Cerberus banner, her father didn't know how to feel. He had serious misgivings about her apparent new allegiance, yet he trusted that she "had a damn good reason for it." He kept at work, but he smiled again.
"I...I don't what to say. I've got a million questions, but I suspect you've heard them a million times." Sara said, suddenly feeling stone sober.
Shepard shrugged and smirked. "How about this? We can go back and forth. You ask a question, then I ask a question. Sound good?"
Sara scrunched her face. "What the hell could I tell you?"
"You're going to be part of the Andromeda Initiative, right? I'm damn curious about it."
"Oh. Well, yeah. Maybe." Sara replied, taking a long drink of her Tupari. Eugh, I prefer Paragade.
Shepard arched her eyebrows. "Maybe?"
"Yeah, maybe. It's...not the easiest thing to sign up for."
The commander rapped her fingers on the bar. "Hmm, fair point. Leaving behind the Milky Way...it's a tall order."
"Understatement of the millennium. Alright, my turn then. My dad would kill me if I didn't ask this," Sara began, staring Shepard in the eyes. "What the hell are you doing with Cerberus?"
Shepard looked back her, with sadness in her eyes. "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm not with them anymore. Not since...about two weeks ago," she began. "But that's not your question, is it? I worked with Cerberus to fight a larger enemy. To protect both humanity and every other race in the galaxy. It wasn't a decision I made lightly, but I won't hide from it. I willingly allied with a terrorist organization. I'll carry that choice with me for as long as I live."
She downed the rest of her cocktail, staring off into the far wall of the bar. Sara didn't know what to say. "Shit."
"Shit indeed," Shepard agreed. "My turn. I know you served in the Alliance, specifically as security for Prothean research teams. Any good stories?"
Sara chuckled. "Oh yeah. Dr. Silva is a damn genius. He was able to reconstruct an entire Prothean dialect from shattered rocks on Phobos." She turned her head and grimaced. "Though there was that time we ran into a group of Batarian pirates on the edge of the Terminus. Mateus just had to check out those ruins on Geshek...lucky we got out alive."
Shepard whistled. "He sounds like a twenty-second century Indiana Jones."
"Who?" Sara asked, puzzled.
Groaning, Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Oh come on! Don't do this to me Ryder."
Sara tried to keep her face stoic, but her expression soon shattered and she burst into a fit of laughter. Slapping the table, she looked up at the less-than-pleased commander.
"Oh, I had you for a second there," she said. "You think Alec Ryder doesn't own hard copies of nearly every Harrison Ford film ever made? I swear, it's a sickness."
Shepard shook her head and cuffed her on the shoulder. "Ok, smartass. You next. Bring it on."
"Ooh. Alright, you asked for it..." Sara began, swirling her glass. "What's up with you and the Turian?"
Shepard blinked, the faintest bit of red forming in her cheeks. "What about him?"
"You must have seen Citadel Celebrity News?! They did a whole roundtable discussion on the photos of you two having dinner in Kithoi Ward."
"Mmm, that was good pasta." Shepard said, somewhat absentmindedly.
"And then when you went to the Dark Star afterward? That was bit more than friendly dancing."
"Look, he and I...I don't know what we have. But I like it. A lot," She rested her chin on her hands, smiling. "Can it last? In our line of work, nothing is a sure thing. But I'm glad he's with me."
Sara just smiled, tilted her head and finished her drink. Shepard made a face. "What?"
"Nothing!" Sara replied, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I'm not one to talk. Had a Quarian girlfriend back in college."
Shepard smirked. "Oh, really?"
"Xivu'Sha nar Qwib Qwib. Pilgrimage transfer student. Haven't seen her in years," Sara said softly. "And if I go, I guess I never will again."
There was silence between the two of them, for a few moments. Shepard stared ahead across the room, while Sara closed her eyes and let her head drop. The sounds of Afterlife reverberated across the room. The pulsing bass, laughing Krogans, whistling Humans and the most angry Salarian that she had ever seen.
"For what it's worth, I hope you choose to go."
Sara turned and saw that Shepard was smiling at her.
"Oh? And why is that?" she prodded.
"Because you have an opportunity afforded to a precious few." Shepard replied.
"You know that thousands of people are part of the Initiative, right?"
"And you know damn well that's a drop in the bucket." she shot back. The commander looked her in the eyes; she suddenly looked every inch the woman that Sara had seen on countless Alliance recruitment posters. "To travel to another galaxy is unprecedented. Beyond the what any known species has ever accomplished...beyond the Asari; hell, beyond the Protheans! It's something I've dreamed about since I was child."
Shepard exhaled. Sara blinked at her and smirked. "You practice that little speech?"
"No, I didn't. And...there's something else." Shepard said, her tone deadly serious. Sara felt her smile melt off her lips. For the first time, she saw the woman's eyes filled with something other than humor or inspiration. She recognized those eyes. It was fear.
"If I...if I can't...if we can't...if something terrible happens here, I need to know that people survived. Found someplace new. Away from their grasp."
Sara frowned. "Whose grasp?"
"Some things are better left unsaid. If you really want to know more, check the extranet. I'll fight as hard as I can to make sure they're stopped. But there are no guarantees."
Shepard put her face in her hands and sighed. "I'm sorry, we went from drinking and swapping stories to me spilling my guts all over the bar."
Sara chuckled. "Oh, no apologies are required. This will be a fantastic story to tell everyone before I fall asleep for six hundred years."
The commander's eyes widened. "Does that mean you'll…"
"Yeah," Sara nodded. "Honestly, there was never really any question of me not going. As much as they happen to piss me off, I wouldn't be able to ditch my family like that." she said.
Well, maybe Scott, she thought, smirking.
Shepard was about to respond, before a muted noise emanated from the commander's earpiece, which made her pause. She raised two of her fingers to her right ear.
"Joker? What's up? ...What does Hackett want? ...Priority huh? Alright, I'm on my way. Tell Garrus and Mordin to meet up back on the Normandy. Shepard out."
The commander sighed and let her shoulders slump. "Duty calls."
"Off on another adventure?" Sara asked.
"I sure hope not. That's your job now." Shepard replied. She stood up and Sara did the same.
"I'm glad to hear you've decided to go. When you wake up, see if you can send back a message to a Dr. Liara T'Soni. I won't be around to hear it...but, fate willing, she will be." The commander extended her hand.
Sara took her hand and shook it. Hell of a grip, she thought. "Count on it. It was honor to meet you Shepard."
"Likewise. I wish you all the luck in the universe Ryder. You're going to need it."
The commander raised her right hand and saluted, which momentarily caught Sara off-guard. Composing herself, she returned the salute immediately, suppressing a smile. Shepard nodded and turned on her heel, walking away and through the doors of the Afterlife bar.
"Goodbye, Shepard." Sara whispered. She stood there for a moment, watching the woman until she faded away into the crowd. Looking down at her arm, Sara activated her omni-tool and typed out a number.
"Hey, dumbass. Yeah, it's me. No, I'm not drunk. Not anymore. Listen, tell Dad...tell him I'm in. I'm ready. Yeah, I know. Well, I got some encouragement..."
Ryder grinned. "And he's not going to believe me when I tell him…"