Etnul - Shorthand greeting and asking admittance used between friends and family. The equivalent of May I enter?

Amicinula - Shorthand greeting and welcome used between friends and family. The equivalent of Be welcome here.

Eden Prime +2

I blame my parents for my enduring belief in fairy tales. Some of my earliest memories involve being tucked safely under warm blankets, my parents telling stories about how they fell in love at first sight while attending the Alliance Naval Academy. Despite years posted apart and disasters of varying degrees, their love remains the solid backbone of our family. I can't even imagine one of them without the other.

As I grew up, I continued to believe in the fairy tale even though I became a sort of joke to the opposite sex. At ICT, they called me 'The Tank' and my squads have always joked that they never need to worry about cover as long as I'm on point. At nearly 195 cms tall and packing 90 kilos of muscle, I could hardly be called delicate or even particularly feminine. I'm a Marine.

Despite the fact that men preferred arm wrestling with me over kissing, I never really worried about it. I worked all the time, I was very good at my job, my people respected the hell out of me, and dating always seemed a waste of energy. And, despite the apparently slim odds of my finding love, I hung onto the fairy tale, believing it would happen. Someday, Prince Charming or Mr. Right would see past The Tank … would see me … and fall in love.

Then Donnel Udina replaced Ambassador Goyle and the council threw a massive party. As the freshly minted Hero of Elysium, my attendance wasn't exactly optional. Apparently, neither was formal wear rather than my dress blues. I refused to wear the heels. It was bad enough I had to rub elbows with the council and Citadel elite feeling like a linebacker stuffed into a lace sausage casing. That night I entered the ballroom expecting to spend a couple of hours leaning against the bar before fleeing at the earliest opportunity.

I hadn't even finished checking my wrap (and sidearm) when a strong, dual-toned voice called my name, and talons reached out to shake my hand. I admit to being a little starstruck. You didn't spend much time on the Citadel without hearing the name Nihlus Kryik. I think we'd started dancing to our third or fourth song before I realized that all his questions were about me, and not 'what sort of sniper rifle do you prefer', but who I was, where I'd come from, what I thought and felt about different topics.

We talked about everything. Well, everything except Elysium or any of the missions that had put him in the news. Music, politics, religion, art, literature, action movies … he could make intelligent, engaging conversation about anything. That damned Spectre blew me away, plain and simple. By the time we ordered in breakfast the next morning, I was a goner. Thank God, so was he.

I'm not sure we even got a month under our belts as bond-mates before he started talking about kids. We'd never be able to have any the usual way, so we talked about different options, but never took any steps. We worked a lot, spending far too much time in different parts of the galaxy. That was not the way to raise a family. I'd never admit it to him, not even now, but I looked for excuses. Some people were just born to be parents. Some people weren't. Guess which group I considered myself a part of.

Then, a few weeks after I was sworn in as a Spectre, Nihlus and I followed a slaving ring to Omega and met a mad scientist. The speed-talking salarian said that he could graft some of Nihlus's genes to human sperm. He talked a good game, and even though it took a lot of tries, I guess he came through.

And now, all of my fears and questions about what sort of parent I'll be are moot. In thirty-three weeks, I'll find out. That damned Spectre had better be at my side for it.

The sun flares through the window, blinding her. She throws her arm up to shield her face. No, it's not the sun. The walls explode, the floor heaves, and she flies across the room, weightless, thrown by the hands of the gods. Screaming. Oh blessed gods of earth and wind, the screaming. The door at the end of the room bursts open, and monsters scramble through, clawing and wailing. She tries to stand. Through the hole in the wall, she sees her people fleeing, burning, screaming, being torn apart—

Razor claws sink into her flesh. She fights, but they're impossibly strong. The ground shakes and the sky crashes down, the shadow of death falling over the city. She twists, her own claws ripping into bloodless flesh, tearing out handfuls of machinery.

She screams for help—

"Kat?"

Shepard leaped up out of the chair, flailing and clawing, dessicated flesh and circuitry vanishing into still, sterile air. Blinking, she flopped back into her chair, gasping, her lungs starved. Gradually a throbbing ache broke through the nightmare. She winced and reached up to rub her neck as she looked around, bewildered by the almost seamless white and engine-like noise. Where was she?

"That didn't look like a comfortable sleeping position," Garrus said from the threshold. His voice opened the door keeping her memories at bay, allowing them to pour back in. For a moment, she gasped, her hand leaping up to grip the bed, clinging to the only solid object in the maelstrom. Eden Prime, Ni, Saren, fighting through the colony, the horrible ring of burned out ground the size of a town, the most massive ship she'd ever seen blasting off the surface. She closed her eyes and scrubbed her face with a hand.

Two days. It had been two days since the nightmare began, and she'd fallen asleep sitting next to her husband's bed. Turning her back to Garrus, she took Ni's hand in hers and lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his rough hide against her lips. "Hey there, verro."

Garrus shifted over by the door, the sounds of life so indecently loud in that spotless, silent tomb: boots rasping over the floor, armour seams rubbing together, paper crinkling, breath whispering in and out of his lungs. Shepard scowled, cracked her neck, and turned toward the C-Sec officer. "I thought you were headed to the academy. What are you doing back?" She hit her omnitool, panic asserting itself again. How long had she slept? She'd showered and changed, then sat down, intending to stay with Ni a few more minutes before heading to the tower. "How long have I been asleep? Damn, I didn't miss the council meeting, did I?"

"No. You're fine. Anderson didn't get an answer on your comm line, so he left a message with me that the council will see you at 1400. You've got an hour yet." He took a step, then hesitated. "Etnul?"

Her panic shattering, Shepard smiled and nodded. "Amicinula, Garrus. Always." She lifted a hand and waved him in. "You're family."

"As you two are to me." He walked over and sat in the other chair. "Sometimes I even forget how much I hated Ni when I met him. Arrogant idiot." A cocky grin accompanied the words, and then he held out a bag. "Here, I figured you probably hadn't eaten since it happened."

Shepard took the bag. "Callighans? Nice." She opened the bag. "Double cheeseburger and fries. This is death in a bag, Garrus. Have you been hired to assassinate me slowly, over thirty or so years?" It was an old, well-used joke. The three of them ate far too much junk food: she and Ni because of the amount of time they spent travelling, Garrus due to being a workaholic bachelor.

Right then, however, the joke bit hard and deep. She caressed the back of Ni's hand with her thumb. "It's not that funny when one of us is—"

"Kat, stop it." Garrus rolled his chair closer and reached out, his hand heavy on her knee. "Just eat your burger, or your stomach will have the council thinking a pack of feral varren are attacking the council chambers." A crooked grin flicked one mandible when she met his stare. "I've never heard a sound as disturbing as your guts when you're hungry."

A soft chuckle rewarded his teasing. "It's not my fault I'm always hungry." She unpacked her burger, folding back the wrapper before taking a bite. "Oh, damn," she mumbled around the mouthful, "I forgot how good these were." She took a second bite, the perfect combination of grilled meat, creamy cheese, and tangy pickle like music on her tongue.

"Best food on the Citadel," he agreed, setting into his meal like someone in an eating contest. "What did his surgeon say?" he asked between bites. He swallowed hard, thumped his chest a couple of times, then poured half his drink down his throat.

Shepard glanced up and winced at the display. "Chew, you savage." She flattened the bag on her lap, then set her burger down. "She has what sounds like a very thorough treatment plan, but … ." She smiled and nodded toward the computer. "She showed me his readouts. There were two tiny blips that coincided with my kissing his hand."

Garrus smiled and nodded. "You two really are sickening. I know he won't leave you." The grin widened. "You told him about Ni Jr.?" When she nodded, his smile dropped into a questioning scowl. "So, what exactly did this Solus fellow do? Did he just take your bit and Ni's bit then smoosh them together?" He acted out the question, holding up his hands, his thumbs and first talons pinched together, then squished them together like he was rolling a spitball.

Shepard laughed. "Yes, then he loaded it into a straw and shot it into me." She kicked him. "No, you goof, there is my bit, and then he took Ni's DNA and a human sperm cell and grafted what he could of Ni's DNA onto the sperm. Then he smooshed them together." She shrugged. "The first nine failed because there was too much turian, my body attacked them."

His heavy, comforting hand returned to her knee. "Well, this time, he got it right." He nodded at her food. "Eat. The council meeting is going to be hours of standing on that damned platform."

She patted his hand and picked up her burger. "You talked to the krogan who tried to kill Fist?"

"Yeah. Fist was an agent for the Shadow Broker, but decided to quit and go to work for Saren." He swallowed. "Apparently, this Wrex worked for Saren in the past as well Not personally. Apparently an agent of Saren's hired the krogan to help raid a volus cargo transport, and Saren boarded the ship afterward. Wrex took off without waiting to get paid, said Saren gave him a bad feeling. Good thing he did, because the rest of the mercs involved in the job ended up dead."

Shepard chuffed. "A Spectre sacking ships like a pirate? That doesn't make sense." She took another bite, chewing without tasting anything. She hated mysteries. Ni was the sleuth … the razor-keen mind with a passion for puzzles; she made up the muscle half of the equation.

Ni can't investigate this time, so dust the cobwebs out of your skull, put the can of whoopass back on the shelf, and think.

"I want to talk to this krogan," she said, glancing up before taking another bite. "Can I have my people transfer him to the Normandy?"

"Sure, who will you send to pick him up? I'll let the desk know to release him to their custody." He balled up his bag and wrappers and tossed them into the garbage.

"Lt. Kaidan Alenko. I hope the krogan can give me something to work from, because other than the crap the beacon shoved into my head—I'll tell you all about it later—I've got nothing to go on." She took another bite, chewing slowly. Hopefully the council threw all their support behind her. She was going to need outside investigative personnel to dig up a trail for her to follow.

"What's the Normandy like?" Garrus asked. "I saw a glimpse of her in dock. Pretty enough, but it's hard to tell anything from the outside.

"She's amazing, and her crew is solid. Of course, Anderson being at the helm is a huge bonus. Most of the crew were eyeballing Ni pretty intensely, but David paved the road well. They'd all relaxed enough to be inappropriately friendly and curious by the time we got to Eden Prime."

The turian stood and paced around the bed, stopping on the other side to take his best friend's hand in his. "Are you going to let me tag along when you ship out?" He met her eyes across the machines and sheets, and her husband's still form. "You won't know what to do with yourself without a turian partner. All those humans will throw you off your game."

Despite the teasing tone of his voice, she saw the very real grief in Garrus's eyes, an echo of her own. As much as she would have loved to have his reassuring and skilled presence at her back, she shook her head. "As soon as Saren finds out Nihlus is still alive, he'll try again. I need someone I trust completely to watch over him." She smiled, a thin press of her lips. "And that list has one name: yours."

"Wait, the beacon stuffed something in your head?" he asked at last. His brow plates and mandibles dropped and tightened into a concerned scowl. After a second, he nodded. "Yeah, okay, explained later." He sighed, the concern morphing into regret. "I don't like the idea of being left out of all the adventure, but for Ni … anything." He shrugged. "And maybe I can use my C-Sec resources to help you find out what Saren is up to, do some legwork and research for you."

"Thank you, you're the best." Shepard glanced down at the chrono on her omnitool, the weight of time pressing down harder each second. While she sat there eating her burger, Saren could be killing more innocent colonists. "I'd better get going. I want to talk to Anderson and Udina before meeting with the council."

Quickly wrapping up the uneaten portion of her burger, she stuck it back in the bag. Standing, she dusted down her dress uniform, trying to smooth the wrinkles she'd creased into it while she slept. "Thanks for the food. I'll be back as soon as I've brought the council up to speed." She winced a little, the muscles in the corner of her eye twitching with fatigue. Hours stretched long and weary between her and a chance to get some sleep.

Garrus laid Nihlus's hand on the mattress and walked around the bed. "Good luck," he said, grasping her shoulders in strong, gentle talons. "I hope they listen with open minds." Mandibles quirking, he cocked his head. "Well, as much as politicians can have open minds."

She pulled him into a quick hug, patting his back hard enough to count as slaps. "Thanks, Garrus." Stepping back, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Huge." He laughed, staggering when she punched his shoulder. "Ow, and far too strong for your own good." Sobering, he gave her a starched nod. "You look ready. The very image of a Spectre. Go get 'em."

She turned on her heel. "Aye, aye, sir."

Lt. Alenko and Chief Williams descended upon her the moment she stepped out into the main lobby of the hospital.

"Ma'am." The lieutenant gave her a sharp salute. "May I enquire about Spectre Kryik?"

Shepard's ironed-on smile warmed a little. "He's alive. The surgeons all say he came through surgery better than expected." She held a hand out toward the exit. "Thank you for asking. Walk with me. I've got to meet with the council in a few minutes."

"Will you need us to be there, ma'am?" Williams asked. The brunette's perpetual scowl deepened and she lagged back a little as if the very idea had her prepped to run screaming in the other direction. Shepard searched the other woman's face for signs of stress. The chief had been the sole survivor of her unit when the Normandy team found her. Williams looked like she had her shit buttoned down, but Shepard made a mental note to take her aside in the next day to talk.

The last of the rigor in Shepard's expression melted away, easing enough for a chuckle to break through. "That won't be necessary, Chief. Your reports and hardsuit data is already with the council. I doubt they'll call on you." Stopping at the elevator, she hit the control then glanced over her shoulder at Alenko. "I do need you to head down to C-Sec Academy in the wards and take custody of a krogan named Urdnot Wrex. Officer Vakarian is arranging for him to be released to us."

"A krogan, ma'am?" Williams asked. The chief's tone raised Shepard's hackles, but the Spectre just smoothed them back down. God, she hoped Williams wasn't a xenophobe.

"Yes, a krogan, and you're taking custody of him under Spectre authority, so make it clear that although he's not a prisoner, I will hunt him down if he runs." She grinned at the expression on the LT's face. "I need him to stick around. He could have important information." The elevator dinged, drawing her attention. "Make him comfortable in the cargo bay for now. He won't fit in the crew bunks." She stepped inside the carriage and hit the control to take her down to the cab stand. When she began talking again, she pinned Alenko with a firm stare. "Whatever he needs, he gets. I don't know how long I'll be busy here. If he gets antsy, take him to the Armax or something. He doesn't need to stay on the ship, but he does need to be escorted if he's out and about."

The lieutenant snapped to attention and saluted. "Understood, ma'am."

Shepard returned the salute. "And enough with the ma'am. My mother is a ma'am, I'm just Shepard."

The man's eyes sparkled as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am, Shepard."

The three of them parted ways at the transit station. Shepard climbed into her cab, set the destination, and then cranked the heater and collapsed into the seat. The entire Citadel maintained a comfortable temperature based on a mean for the different races, but since Eden Prime, a steady chill had been seeping deeper and deeper into her bones.

Head sagging back against the rest, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. She'd never been very good at compartmentalization. She tried to keep emotions out of her work, but she never really succeeded. Taking down a slaver's den, hitting the big house after securing the breeding sheds and the mother houses … hells yes, she put a bullet through the crotch of every single one of the bastards behind it, then let them bleed and scream a bit before the bullet to the head.

And then … . Saren hadn't just hit close to home, he'd set fire to it with her family inside, but if she didn't stay cool, didn't keep her wits about her, he'd put a bullet in her head. He'd always acted the complete bastard with her, mostly because she was human, but he was very, very good at what he did. When it came to dealing with Saren, Ni proved a weak spot she could ill afford. As much as she hated to think it, if he'd been killed, at least she'd be able to focus on her vengeance, a high explosive round aimed right between Saren's eyes.

"Arriving at destination—Citadel Tower—in thirty seconds," the cab's VI announced, its inflection just cheerful enough that Shepard had to rein in the urge to punch her fist through the console. Instead, she took several more deep breaths and flexed her fists. She could think of better plans than going into a council session annoyed. "Keep the temper buttoned down, Shepard."

When the car set down, she climbed out and looked up the massive tower. Every time she stood there, staring up, she remembered how much she loved being a Spectre. She loved everything about it, even the paperwork, because as she filled out her expense reports, she was filling out a goddamned Spectre expense report! The first human to do so. Being a Spectre meant going out into the galaxy, her guns on her back, her best guy at her side, and being a big goddamned hero.

Of course, Saren had crapped all over that too.

She strode across to the elevator and headed up. Time to start rallying the galaxy to figure out and face whatever the hell it was she saw coming in the vision. The ride passed with even greater sloth than usual when no one entered the carriage. Usually she could count on eavesdropping on several different arguments over everything from market fluctuations to council policy to issues plaguing different colonies. She'd made a couple of truly spectacular investments thanks to the things she'd overheard in that elevator … well, combined with some lucky guesses.

When the doors opened at last, she strode through the small antechamber into the long, beautiful room. She looked up into the softly glowing trees, letting their light and the chatter of falling water ease the rest of her frustration before striding to the far end where the council, Ambassador Udina, and Captain David Anderson awaited her.

At the top of the first set of stairs, Shepard stopped and looked around. Just like the elevator, the chambers stood empty. Not a single salarian fussing over what the dalatrasses would do if something didn't get ratified. No asari leaning regally against railings. No turians and volus snarking about the human upstarts. No one.

At least, until she rounded the large fountain. Her brows hunkered down over her nose, forehead furrowing above them. Anderson and Tevos, the asari councilor, stood at the foot of the second staircase locked in a serious discussion. She couldn't hear what they said over the sound of water, but their expressions screamed 'bad news'. The hand of dread reached down out of the clear blue, crushing her into the elegant flooring, the weight of it making each step harder to take than the one before.

"Madame Councilor." Shepard bowed her head in a sharp gesture of respect. She straightened, gave the captain a smart salute. "Captain." Focusing on the councilor, she said, "I wasn't expecting to see you before the meeting. Is there a problem? Did you receive my report and the evidence?"

The elegant councillor turned away from Anderson, her every movement reminding Shepard of a kelp forest undulating in the waves: lithe, serene, and graceful. "Yes, we received your packet and have reviewed it. That's why I'm here." She pinned Shepard with a narrow-eyed stare. "Your report indicated that you experienced some sort of vision when you interacted with the beacon?" The asari matriarch's stare felt like a huge needle stabbing straight through Shepard's head, sticking her to a board like a specimen being examined. "Do you recall anything?"

"No, ma'am, at least nothing that makes sense." One of her hands migrated to her temple as she closed her eyes and tried to force the images forward. Pain spiked just behind her eyes, then spread out, diffusing into a dull ache that crawled beneath her skull. "It was a warning about something dark and terrible coming. Horror and destruction tangled into a jumble of images that screamed, 'they've killed us all, be ready, death is coming'."

Tevos paled a little behind her face markings. "And you're certain the threat is genuine?" Closing half a step, she looked up into Shepard's eyes, her expression clearly telegraphing that Shepard had better be damned sure.

"I'm certain, Madame Councillor." She made a low, breathy coughing sound deep in her chest. "I've been good and scared from time to time, ma'am, but nothing has terrified me the way this stuff in my head does. Something's coming, and it's bringing the extinction of all the races along with it."

The councillor turned and strode away several steps, stopping to stare into the fountain. "You're aware that asari can enter the minds of others and touch their thoughts?"

Shepard stiffened, her shoulders snapping back as she clasped her hands behind her. Of course she'd heard of it. More jokes about embracing eternity circulated through the military than just about any other topic. Rocking onto her toes a little, she thought over her reply, rephrasing it a couple of times before she allowed it to leave her lips.

"Isn't it an intimate sort of procedure, ma'am?" Shepard's heart started pounding its fists against the inside of her ribcage. The list of things she didn't intend to do that day popped to the fore of her mind, and 'getting my brain sexed up' leaped right up near the top of the stack.

Tevos turned, a kind but slightly impatient looking smile plucking at the corners of her mouth. "It can be, but it doesn't have to be, and it's certainly not inherently sexual in nature. That's a different sort of sharing altogether. I would simply ask you to concentrate on what you saw in the vision and then examine that memory." She closed the distance between them again. "I trust your judgment and your intuition, Shepard, both have proven their value over the cycles, but I need to see and assess this risk myself before I can recommend a course of action to the rest of the council."

"Yes, ma'am." Bracing as if she'd just challenged Tevos to punch her in the gut as hard as she could, Shepard said, "What do I need to do?"

"Just look into my eyes, concentrate on the vision, and relax." The asari closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "It won't hurt, and I won't look beyond the events on Eden Prime and the beacon message." When Tevos opened her eyes, it took all of Shepard's courage to look into the inky, bottomless pit that stared back.

Shepard swallowed, choking a little, her tongue too thick in her throat. She tried to concentrate on the beacon, on the images of death and destruction but a million other thoughts suddenly crowded into her head: Nihlus's cocky grin as he checked his weapon and turned to leave the Normandy, Eden Prime's idyllic countryside littered with dead bodies, the machine zombies lurching off spikes to swarm her squad, Nihlus down and bleeding, frantically trying to disarm the massive explosive devices set to destroy the colony, the beacon glowing across the platform … .

Screaming and wept prayers.

Skies darkened by machines as tall and monstrous as the gods.

Antecessors save us. Gods save us.

The gods are lies. The only god is death.

Racing toward a family member, they turn ... their beloved face nothing but horror, the flesh belching tech and rot.

Too late for us.

Whole planets burning.

Mountains of dead, their expanse limitless ... rot and gore and disease.

People screaming and shredding themselves on wire. Nightmares tear apart those who fall, ravenous, crimson mouths gobbling and wet.

Save yourselves.

"Right there," Tevos said. "Go back to that last thought, Shepard." She stepped a hand's width closer.

Gut churning, bile scorching and sour in the back of her throat, Shepard focused on the last image, planets receding as if a camera swept along the path of a perfect planetary alignment.

"Yes, that's it." Tevos's fingers wrapped around Shepard's wrist, a shackle of ice and steel. "The information is incomplete, fragmented and alien … as if spoken in a foreign tongue, but right there … coordinates. There are coordinates buried in the message." After another moment, she withdrew, pale and shaken. She closed her eyes, visibly pulling herself together. She appeared to succeed until a massive shudder broke down her spine, glass shattering, ugly and jarring.

Tevos stepped back, stumbling a little. Anderson's hand shot out, capturing her elbow to steady her. Her quick nod of thanks belied the quick jerk that freed her arm from his grip. "If you'll excuse me. I need to consider this information." She inclined her head toward Shepard and then Anderson. "Until the meeting," she said, clipping her words tight and short. "We have a great deal of work to do."