"May I come in?"

"Of course, Commander. What may I do for you?" Thane's voice was low and rough, but at the same time, pleasing to the ear. He rose from the table where he had been staring out at the drive core and walked to the entrance to the Life Support room. The commander stood just inside the entrance, holding a box with a picture of an Alliance cruiser on the side.

"Well, ah, actually, I was hoping to impose on you for a while." This wasn't the same commander who had bantered with Nassana Dantius after slaughtering her way through waves of mercs just to reach him, to make sure he stayed alive just so she could recruit him. For one, she was wearing a black and white jumpsuit with short sleeves instead of a brilliant white and red hardsuit with weapons bristling off of it. His eyes swept over her form and noted that she wasn't even carrying a pistol. He relaxed slightly in recognition of the security she felt on the Normandy. His weapons might be safely stowed in the display case, but he always had his knives on his person. He hadn't gone unarmed since he was a child, and certainly until he knew the Normandy and her crew better, he would stay alert for any potential problems.

She continued, "I wanted a chance to get to know my newest squad member a little better. The dossier I have on you is about a tenth of what I have on the others. So far, I know that you are called the greatest assassin in the galaxy, you go out of your way to protect innocent bystanders, and you pray for forgiveness after a job has been completed. Not what I expected of an assassin." She lingered in the doorway, giving him an appraising look.

He lifted the box out of her hands and carried it to the table. "I'm honored that you would seek my company. I admit that I have been wanting a chance to talk to you as well." He deflected her unasked questions in favor of trying to learn more about his new employers.

"Oh really? What about?" She followed him into Life Support and glanced around. It had only been a day, but the crew had cleaned up the room that had been half storage and now it was a neat and sparse living space. A small cot, a table with two chairs, some storage lockers, and a beautiful collection of weapons on display. These weren't just for show either. Even from a distance, she could see the marks of usage as well as the sheen that indicated a well-cared for piece of equipment.

"For one, I admit to a curiosity about the woman behind the legend. And to the reasons behind our mission."

Shepard had walked over to his weapon display and was looking at his sniper rifle. Now she turned around with a frown creasing her forehead. "We have to stop the Collectors. We have to find out why they're abducting human colonies, where they're hiding, and stop them. Somehow. I don't have all the pieces yet, but I will, and we will stop them if I have to personally kill each and every one of the bastards!" She drew a breath and turned back to the display.

Thane rumbled his appreciation of her spirit, although he doubted she could hear it. "No, Commander. I was talking about the ones funding your mission." He waved a hand to indicate the entirety of the Normandy. "This ship...it's not Alliance. But you are. The savior of the Citadel. The first human Spectre. Missing in action for two years. Rumors of your death, and yet you show up on Illium leading a crew comprised of the most highly skilled operatives in their field in the galaxy. I accepted your contract, Commander, and I will follow through. But I research all my contracts, and this one has many...contradictions."

That got a laugh from her. "I like that. Contradictions. Fits my life perfectly right now." She traced the outline of his Viper sniper rifle, her fingers ghosting along the outline of the trigger, but she didn't actually touch the weapon. Thane appreciated that. Few people realized how personal a weapon could be, but then again, given who she was, maybe he shouldn't be surprised.

She turned away from the display and pulled out the chair opposite where Thane had been sitting. "Nice rifle. The best. Not that I'm at all surprised, given your occupation." Her unconscious echo of his thoughts startled Thane. He wondered if she was better at reading body language than he had originally thought. "Tell you what," she offered. "You tell me a little about yourself, and I'll help you answer those contradictions of yours. I like to know my crew as much as you want to know about your contracts." The smile she gave him was brief but warm before she bent her head to open the box.

"As you wish," he rumbled. He sat down opposite her and picked up the lid to the box. It had a picture of an Alliance cruiser on it. The bottom of the box was in Shepard's hands. He could see numerous tiny gray parts resting on the bottom, forming a bed for a partially assembled model. "A hobby of yours?" he asked as he gestured toward the model.

"Not really." Another soft laugh. "At least, not til now. For some reason, Cerberus designed a display wall in my cabin and someone put a model of the Normandy in there. When I stopped by the Citadel, I saw a couple of models and figured I'd try my hand at putting them together. There's not much room for hobbies onboard ship, and this gives me something to do with my hands while I'm thinking. Found this one on Illium while I was looking for you, actually. Didn't need nearly as much gunfire to acquire this little guy as I did for you, though."

She pulled the model out and set it in the middle of the table, then started sorting through the pieces in the bottom of the box, looking for something in particular. "What about you? Any hobbies? What do you do between contracts?"

Thane reached out and picked up his cup. "I travel. I observe." He paused. "Much like you, I have no space in my life for material goods. I like to know what motivates people, why they act as they do. Why are some driven by greed to destroy lives? Why are others, like you, driven to save them? We, all of us, have free will. What twist of fate sets a person on one path instead of another?" He looked up from his cup to see Shepard staring at him with eyebrows raised. "You are surprised?"

"It's a lot deeper than I was expecting. I was thinking you might admit to a fondness for adventure novels or that you're a chess master." She went back to rummaging through the box. "Free will, eh? Okay, I'll bite. Free will's only part of the equation. Who you are, who you'll be are determined in large part by where you are. Even going beyond the obvious things like being born a krogan or asari, you're a product of your parents and your environment. A child's personality is largely set by the time they're five...er, at least for humans. And the child has zero say in how they're raised for those five years. Hell, most kids can't even remember their life before five. You can treat them like an angel, or you can beat them every day, and that's going to have a serious effect on their personality.. So I say that free will has some stiff competition."

"I would say that external events can influence a child well beyond the age of five, or the appropriate species equivalent," Thane said, surprising her with his agreement. "But still, there is that spark in each individual where they can stand up and say 'this is what I choose, no matter what I've been told before.' That is what interests me. Why would a thief forego stealing from a soldier? Why would a mother walk past a crying child on the street? Why would a business woman decide the best course of action is to kill her own employees?" He paused and looked directly at her with those deep, enigmatic eyes. "Why would a decorated soldier decide to work with a known terrorist organization?"

There was a long pause while Shepard considered her answer. Thane took a drink from his cup and waited patiently. "Because circumstances left me with no alternatives," she finally said.

"There are always choices."

"But only one optimal choice, by definition."

"What were the circumstances that left you no other choice than to collaborate with a human terrorist organization?" he asked softly.

This time there was an even longer pause while she fitted some engine pieces together. "The Council wouldn't listen to me. I told them about the Reaper threat, but even before I...Two years ago, they dismissed my warnings. According to Joker, it got even worse while I was ..." She still hadn't come to grips with her death and resurrection and couldn't get the words out. She finally settled on "...gone. They dismissed my warnings as ramblings of a Spectre that was over tired and misled by Saren. They claimed Sovereign was nothing more than a Geth ship. The Alliance turned me into a hero, a martyr, a damn recruiting poster!" She took a deep breath and focused on the toy engine in her hands. "If I went back there, they'd stick me a room and psychoanalyze me for the next year, then send me on a PR tour. No, as much as I hate what Cerberus does, they're the only ones with the resources and the guts to do anything. They may stand for human dominance, but they want to stop the Reaper threat more than anyone else in the galaxy right now, and that's a damn shame. No, it's a fucking outrage!" With an obviously controlled motion, she set the engine part back in the box.

Thane was intrigued by the unexpected glimpses into Shepard's personality that he was gleaning. He was positive that she was unaware of how much of her internal thoughts she was giving away. She was unable to admit that she had died. Was it because her death was a ruse, and she was unaccustomed to lying? Thane was very good at reading body language, and even though he wasn't as proficient with humans as the more established species in the galaxies, he was fairly convinced that she wasn't lying. Of course, he thought that coming back from the dead was even more improbable, so for now, he decide to withhold judgment about Shepard's true story until he knew more. Setting that aside, she was obviously passionate about her convictions on the Collectors and the Reapers. He could also hear the distress frequencies in her voice when she talked about the Alliance. He sipped his tea and kept listening.

She shook her head. "The Illusive Man's pouring billions of credits into this. Makes sense if you believe that our entire civilization is at risk, but why can't anyone else see it?"

"People are often unwilling to face uncomfortable truths."

"It's more than that. The Council is being...I don't know. They're refusing to see what's in front of them. They aren't even willing to consider the possibility that what I'm saying is true. How do you break through that?"

Thane smiled. "From what I've seen of you thus far, I have no doubt that you will eventually make them realize the gravity of the situation. Your will seems indomitable when you set your mind to something."

"Damn straight I will. Even if it means dragging that Collector ship back to the Citadel and shoving it in the Council's faces." She picked up her model ship again. "This is good. Helps me focus on staying calm when I'm so mad I could spit." Shepard looked up just in time to catch Thane's raised eyebrow. "Just an expression, I promise. No promises about hitting something though. But not tonight. I promised myself I'd get these engines finished tonight."

"May I?" Thane had never seen a ship model such as the one Shepard held. The idea of replicating something like a starship in such a tiny format was interesting to him, and his fingers itched to pick up the miniature replica and study it.

"Sure. See if you can find these pieces for me, would you?"

While Thane poked through the pile of pieces in the box, she asked, "How does one become an assassin, anyway? I mean, you're not a typical merc. Your dossier said best in the galaxy. That's a pretty bold claim."

"A mercenary is just a thug in custom painted armor," Thane said dismissively. "I am much more than just a mercenary. I am a master of my art. I have been trained for this since I was six years old."

"Wait, what?" Shepard set her model down and looked at the drell sitting calmly across from her. "You started killing people when you were six?"

He quirked a smile at her. "Of course not. I didn't make my first kill until I was twelve. The hanar took me in as part of the Compact when I was six, and that's when I started training."

Shepard still had a look of disbelief on her face. "Twelve? That's not much better. When I was twelve, I was learning astrogation and just starting to notice boys. I sure as hell wasn't thinking about killing people. Well, not seriously. What's this Compact?"

"How much do you know of drell history?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow. "Honestly, not much. You're the first drell I've ever met. I took a few politics and history classes in the academy, but we focused on the Council races and the Krogan rebellions."

He nodded. "Over eight hundred years ago, our species started to aggressively industrialize our planet, Rakhana, but it was a desert world, and short on resources. It wasn't long until we had exhausted the planet's capacity to support our population. Two centuries ago, the hanar made contact and decided to rescue as many of us as possible. They brought 375,000 drell to the hanar homeworld of Kahje where we still live. In return, the drell formed the Compact with the hanar. Some of us serve the hanar, doing what they find difficult. Many become bodyguards or aides of one sort or another. A select few show promise enough to be trained as assassins."

Shepard was completely absorbed in his story, toy model temporarily forgotten. "That sounds like slavery!"

"No." Thane was quick to deny her accusation. He had heard that many times before, and he was tired of outsiders who viewed the Compact through their own cultural lens. "It is an honor to serve. It is a small repayment of the gift of life for the drell. Without the hanar, the drell would be reduced to a handful of primitive tribes on Rakhana, destined only to fade into ignoble extinction, one of many races that fell prey to the baser urges of greed, pride, and war. Much like the krogan, but the drell did not possess such renowned fighting skills and thus were ignored by the other races in the galaxy. Only the hanar were moved to assist us, and they were beyond charitable. They literally opened their homeworld to us, helped us to build living domes that approximated Rakhana's desert conditions on a constantly raining world. They gave us life, hope and a future. Set against that, the Compact seems a meager repayment. Of the drell, only a few are called to serve, and anyone can refuse. Few do."

"How could your parents let you go? Did they know what would happen?" she demanded.

Like so many others, she refused to listen. Thane paused, then his eyelids fluttered. His words came fast and jerky. "Arms holding tight, tears falling down her face. 'We love you, Thane. Remember that always.' Another set of arms pulling me free, holding me for a second, then setting me on the floor. 'Serve with honor, son.' Giving my hand to an older man, two hanar watching from the side. A long walk to a groundcar. The older one says, 'You have a new family now, Thane. We take care of our own. You won't be alone.'" He stopped abruptly and picked up his mug.

"What was that?" Shepard asked.

"Drell have eidetic memories. We remember everything. Sometimes a memory will be triggered, as fresh as when it happened. I apologize. I haven't thought of that day for many years." He looked down into his mug, trying to keep other memories of his early days in the Guild from surfacing.

Something in his posture touched her. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up a painful memory."

"Looking back, it was the fear of a child for the new and unknown, the loss of the familiar. But it is merely a part of growing up. All children eventually lose the security of their family, even if it's to move on and form families of their own. I served with honor for the drell and hanar. It was a good life," he added with a wry smile.

"Hmpf. Still sounds like indentured servitude to me," Shepard muttered as she bent back to her box of parts. There was silence between the two for a while as she built up the tiny engines and Thane sipped his tea as they each contemplated what had been said.

"Would you care for something to drink? I was going to refill my tea, and I would be pleased to bring you something," he offered.

"Yes, thank you. Tea sounds good."

While Thane was in the mess, Shepard wondered if she'd inadvertently offended him by likening his service to slavery. Wouldn't be the first time she'd put her foot in her mouth, and certainly wouldn't be the last. Usually, though, she didn't care if she offended someone. She said what she meant, and they could just deal with it. Thane was different though. Unexpectedly thoughtful and spiritual. Well, maybe he was hard to offend, she thought. That would be handy around her.

The life support door slid open, but she didn't look up even as he slid a mug in front of her. "Thanks," she said and then bit her lip in concentration. This piece was being exceedingly difficult to rotate into place. At last, it snapped in, and she held it until the glue dried. Finally she was able to set it down and pick up her drink. Shepard sniffed appreciatively. "What is it?"

"An asari blend from Illium I've come to appreciate. It helps calm the thoughts but doesn't dull perception. It's quite popular on Illium, especially among lawyers." There was a faint hint of laughter in his rumbling voice as he described how he had been introduced to it by his first client on Illium several years ago.

Shepard cradled the mug in her hands and breathed in the steam. It did seem to help slow her racing thoughts. "I used to drink coffee," she said into the quiet. "Everyone does in the navy. You learn to like it, no matter how bad it is. And it usually is quite bad. But ever since I...came back..." Again her voice faded away in an awkward pause, unsure of how to continue and this time Thane held the silence. "I just can't stand it anymore. And the coffee isn't the only thing that's changed. It's disconcerting when I find something like that. It's like realizing your shoes don't match, but you can't figure out which is the right one."

Thane's voice was soft. "So you did actually die? There's been quite a bit of confusion on that point on the extranet."

Shepard nodded, not looking up. "Dead. 'Just meat and tubes on a table.'" A shudder ran through her hands when she said that. "I don't know how Cerberus did it. The Lazarus project. That's what they called me. I...died." She said the last word slowly, but firmly. "Then two years later, I woke up. It feels like I just went to sleep, but the galaxy changed around me. My friends changed. Apparently, I changed, too, in spite of the Illusive Man's insistence that I be brought back exactly as I was before. Hell, I know it was a miracle I came back at all, but sometimes I have to wonder how much has changed. Which shoe am I?"

Thane's inner eyelids fluttered before he could control himself. So she really did die and come back from beyond the ocean. The concept was staggering. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, but this was not the time, not when he had just met her. This was an open contract, and he hoped there would be opportunities in the future to ask her if she remembered her trip beyond the ocean. But for now, this was an intriguing and delicate conversation. Very rarely in his life had Thane been close enough to anyone to have this sort of philosophical conversation, and never with an employer. He considered his options. Shepard was bold and unconventional, and yet she had been through something that no one else had outside of legend, and he could see how it weighed on her.

Thane decided to take a chance of his own. Greatly daring, he set his mug down and reached out to lift her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Does it matter? Your soul has returned to its body. You are whole once again. You know your purpose in life. Does it truly matter if some details have changed? Every day, we change. I am not the same man I was two years ago. Perhaps if you had been alive for these two years, you would have awoken on your own to the realization that it is better to drink good tea than bad coffee."

She laughed. His fingers were cool and rough on her chin, and his words brought a genuine warmth to her smile. Mission accomplished, he dropped his hand back to the table. "Maybe that's why I only have two pairs of shoes to my name right now. Can't get mixed up very easily." She leaned back in her chair and mulled over Thane's words. "You believe in a soul?"

"Yes. The soul and the body are two parts of the whole. They must work together, or the person becomes disconnected. They do not know their purpose and cause chaos and pain, both to themselves and everyone around them."

A longer silence held the room. Shepard ignored her model now as she thought about the assassin's words. "How can you say that? We both cause chaos and pain around us, but we both know our purpose. I'm going to take down the Collectors and then the Reapers, no matter what I have to do to accomplish it. You have your contracts, and you can't tell me that killing someone doesn't cause loss and pain for those around them. You just said my soul and body were back together, but I'll be the first to point out that I cause chaos wherever I go."

Thane nodded. "I was unclear. In the disconnected person, the soul and body work at cross purposes. The person often has no clear goal. The soul provides the guiding compass to a body's work, but when the body will not listen to it, chaos results. The chaos will spread from that person to touch everything around him, causing greater and greater harm. Some people have little influence or power, and thus the damage they can inflict is lessened. But others, like Nassana, have a great deal of power. The harm they inflict spreads out in larger and larger ripples until something stops it.

"The same happens when body and soul work in concert, except that the changes they bring about will build something better. But no change comes without cost, without chaos. Just as a fire can be used to temper metal into a sword, it can also become a wildfire capable of destroying cities. It is the intent and will behind the chaos that demonstrate whether or not the soul and body are working together."

"So even if I have to cut a swathe through the Council and every major civilized species in order to get their attention, it's worth it if we can work together to fend off the Reaper threat," she mulled.

"Indeed," Thane rumbled. "But keep in mind that people are scared of fire. They worry that it will get out of hand, that it will burn them. Better to keep the embers low, they think. That way it will still warm them, even if it won't light the night. I have a feeling that you, Commander, will burn away the darkness in a most spectacular fashion."

"And what of you, Thane? Is that how you reconcile what you do? Making the galaxy a brighter place is what you told me."

Now it was the drell's turn to hesitate. Memories of a broken and bloodied body lying in their bedroom, a child crying his heart out, pleading with him to stay, to keep his mommy from the sea. "I have much to atone for. I do it with the gifts that I was given. To do less would be to deny the bond between my body and my soul. What help I can give you, Commander, is offered freely."

The sincerity in his rough, low voice was unmistakable, and she couldn't help but contrast it with the rationale for the others to join her crusade. Only Garrus had made the same level of commitment to her, had offered to walk into hell with her. This assassin, this man so talented at taking life was promising to use those skills to protect her life and her mission.

They both sat quietly. Nothing more needed to be said. It wasn't until Shepard finally finished her tea that she broke the silence. "Thank you for letting me stay." Her voice was nearly a whisper; the silence was so deep and tangible that it almost felt sacrilegious to say anything. "It helped." She proceeded to pack the model back into its box. It looked significantly more like a cruiser than it had when she entered.

"You are welcome here anytime, Commander," Thane replied as he stood to walk her to the door.

"I'll take you up on it," she promised. "And Thane. Call me Shepard. Everyone else does."

"I look forward to your next visit...Shepard," he replied with a smile playing on his full lips. Ever the gentleman, he escorted her through the doorway.

She waited for the elevator. Just before she stepped on, she turned to look back at Life Support. The smile transformed her face from serious Commander to a young woman with a stunning and vivacious personality that transcended species. Thane couldn't take his eyes off her until she disappeared into the elevator, then he slowly walked back into the room he could call his own. His thoughts were consumed by the contradictory woman who was his new employer, and he knew that he would spend many hours trying to unravel the enigma that was Commander Shepard.