Cora woke up early again watching the bioluminescent clock's steady blue pulse. She wondered a moment if it was alive. She could imagine the angara letting the bioluminescent lights manage themselves. It would probably be easier on all of them. She turned and looked across at the other bunks across the room. Liva was sleeping soundly. A wet spot was on her pillow where her mouth had fallen open. She was curled facing her. It was curious. Cora wondered if it was a soldier's development. When she had first went to train with the Asari, she had always curled against the wall. Her commander broke that out of her. A soldier always keeps their back to the wall – asleep and awake. It was why she liked the seat at the tavetaan where she could watch everybody. Perhaps Liva had been broken of the same habit.

The window had been opened again, so she curled the blanket under her chin. She wished that she had left her rolfjinn on over her standard issue pajamas. Her arms were always colder than the rest of her. Liva's bunkmate rolled and kicked the blankets off her. She wondered if this angara was the one that kept opening the window. She had been in the room more than once, but it was not an everyday occurrence. Liva seemed to have a rotation of acquaintances that moved through her bunk. It was probably due to her penchant for cleaning the domiciles as a task. She always volunteered and would switch shifts working extra hours to help anyone. Due to this, several angara had come to the room recently chatting pleasantly and exchanging duties with Liva. Cora wondered if the pleasantries were bribes in their way - a sort of friendship in exchange for escaping a routine duty.

Her feet slipped from underneath the blanket. She could feel the chill through the socks. Everything the angara had given her - even the rolfjinn which was the thickest material - was thin. She wondered if this was due to shortages or simply a planet-wide rationing system. She could see the angara in their practical rationing giving thick lush clothing to the recruits stationed on Voeld and leaving the rainforest planet and Havarl in need. It was simple pragmatism that characterized the angaran leadership so well. It was always a little too cold. Cora understood it, but she did not like it. She missed being able to scrape together bits and pieces from her salary to assuage a desire, but in this world, saving anything was not so much impossible as intolerable. In much the same way a single person to a room was seen was shameful, taking anything for a selfish pleasure - such as thick wool socks that could better suit a Voeld bound soldier - was unthinkable.

She had rationed amidst her soldiers when she had led, but it had ended during shore leave when one could go and stretch their individuality. It had always felt beyond wonderful, and the peace it brought upon the return to the mission was something that brought the team together in a well-oiled cohesion. A part of her wondered how long this would last.

She pulled her rolfjinn over her head and exited the dormitory trying not to wake anyone. The path to the kitchens was becoming ever more familiar. She entered, and the cooks looked at her - some with smiles and some with the weariness of doing a task in your sleep. She was happy to see bread this morning amongst all the things that had not transferred to this alien world. Yes, there was bread of a sort, but it was not the beautiful golden brown of wheat. It had the same bioluminescent colors as much of Havarl shared. She took two in her delight noticing the cook's frown a little too late. She couldn't put it back after touching it, so she simply walked to the table that she normally shared with Amarek and sat. Her cheeks were bright red at the faux pas. She picked up the bread intending to eat it first, but her stomach rebelled. A part of her was wearing thin between this mission, Yedo's inefficiency, and the culture shock. She enjoyed it here, but familiarity seemed to be slipping further away.

A tray slid along the table, and Yedo sat across from her. She saw his eyes flick from the rolls to her eyes, and her lips flattened into a straight line. She couldn't let this intimidate her so much. She had urged Yedo to take steps away from the way his species seemed to perceive their role in society, so she had to heed her own words despite the cook's whispered disapproval. She took a bite of the warm roll, and the soft buttery taste was tempered by the dryness in her mouth. She didn't enjoy it.

"Teacher Cora," he paused to break his own roll, and she could feel the hum of his field touch her jittering and jumping against her skin. "How do humans live alone?"

She was a bit caught off guard at the question. The young man had eyes only for his food, but she knew the inquiry was not something innocent. She recalled the previous conversation they had had with a little fear. Her words were meant to be encouraging and helpful, and she could only hope to give more of the same.

"It's hard at times, but we are never truly alone. We sleep alone - generally - but we eat and work together."

"Generally...?"

She thought about the communal showers and the domiciles. "Well bathe and sleep. It is usually only the closest connections that are around during those times." She paused. "I suppose it's rather like your shared rooms."

His head jerked up looking directly into her eyes. "Are we close?"

She was a little taken aback at how desperate he seemed. Color flashed on his cheeks turning them a shade of purple. He was a falling man reaching for a cliff's edge. A pang of fear invaded her heart as she realized this was her doing. She had allowed him to ostracize himself from his people and his friends - perhaps family as well. For a moment, she wondered if Evfra had been correct in dragging him back to his assigned place. It was certainly not how she would want to live, but she was not an angara. She considered dissuading him but couldn't bring the words to her lips. He was too vulnerable, and she was filled with what she could only assume was affection for his plight.

"We are close," she said gently. "But humans would place more... significance on sharing a room for the night."

His face fell, and he returned to his food. "I'm sorry, teacher. It was presumptuous."

She thought of Liva's nightly rotation. She had always chosen the same bed, but if the guests were any indication, assigned beds were highly irregular. "Perhaps you could choose a bed in my domicile...? Are you assigned?"

He brightened and waved a hand in front of his face with a bit more energy. "No! If it wouldn't be an issue for your bunkmates... Some people claim a bed, but it is never really theirs."

She should have known. Beds were also not owned - even temporarily. A thought occurred to her. "If you could claim a place in my domicile at any time, why did you ask?"

Yedo cocked his head at an angle. "I thought you used a shared room with Amarek. He acts as if he is coupling with you. Some angara do not care for a third companion. Others do. Amarek probably wouldn't. I doubt he even likes the housing."

Cora felt her cheeks flush. It would only be an angara who would worry more about dislodging someone than actually asking about sex. She shook her head to try to chase the thought away. It wouldn't serve her well to read too much into the mention, but she was intrigued about the last comment. Amarek had hinted at it the previous evening with his grave expression and tone as he spoke of the differences that had washed over Aya. She wanted to know. A part of her craved the knowledge. She glanced at Yedo as he sat humming through his field and stuffing the proper amount of rations into his mouth. Her offer had made him more content. She wondered if it would be enough. She leveled her voice and propped her elbow on the table hoping her interest didn't seep through her voice or posture.

"Why would he not like the housing?"

"He is a colonizer." Her preparation was unnecessary. Yedo didn't even glance at her as he answered - as if it were the simplest explanation that one could give.

"Colonizer?"

"Yeah," answered Yedo. "They - "

His gaze slipped behind her, and she blinked realizing the easy chatter between the cooks and the sleepy diners had turned to whispers. She turned to see a cook whispering to Amarek over the counter. Amarek's spine was stiff and curled into the predatory arch Cora had witnessed in the male lover from the previous night. Amarek and the cook both glanced her way. Amarek's gaze was a second late but sought her eyes. She paled. The cook's disapproval was evident in his face and his field. Amarek did not show any of the easy conversation that he had the previous morning. He didn't nod at the cook, but he reached to the tray and took one roll placing it firmly on his tray. Cora knew what the tension was about now. He was being shamed the same way that Yedo was being shamed by her decisions. She - the alien - was hurting those that accepted her differences. She would never be a diplomat.

As soon as she had realized this, Amarek reached again with all the grace and finality that he had the first time to take a second roll which he sat directly beside the other. The cook's mouth hung agape before snapping shut. He crossed his arms and sniffed turning to the next diner whom she noticed took a single roll. Amarek slid across from her directly in front of Yedo as he bit into the roll once harshly his gaze still on the cook. Cora wanted to say something to him, but she didn't want to discuss it in front of Yedo. It wasn't the time nor the place. She felt the taut warmth of Amarek's curved thigh rest against her knee under the table. His field cracked with tension even as he sat in front of her looking the exact opposite. She wondered if this juxtaposition was another facet of angaran language that a mere 'deaf' human wouldn't understand. It was a message of nonchalance layered with a dire warning, and she knew it was trouble. She could feel it hum in her blood. His eyes found hers, and her face went hot and red. She looked down at her food unseeing. She didn't want to cause trouble - for the Initiative, Amarek, or Yedo - yet she had seemed to do just that with each passing day snowballing into greater depths that she carelessly misconstrued.

The silence lay between them broken. Yedo's cheeks had returned to the purple flush, and his eyes were downcast as he busied himself with his food. She wondered if he was embarrassed at the company in which he had placed himself. It wasn't fair to him.

"If you don't wish to come tonight..."

Yedo shook his head, and Amarek's field broke as his focus turned to the two of them.

"I know human culture is..." His eyes darted to the rolls on her plate and back to his own. "...different. But I - we angara - the people -"

His lips pressed into a thin line as he ripped his roll in half in frustration. Cora watched him look for the words, and she felt his field pulse with stutters and stops as she tried to ignore Amarek's questioning gaze. Eventually, she took pity on the young man.

"I would be happy to share with you." She didn't know what motherly instinct pulsed in her at that moment. It was the same feeling she had when she watched one of her roses bloom day by day. They were so far removed from their original planet, and yet they blossomed under her care. She had already removed Yedo from his people. The least she could do was nurture him. He sighed, and his field shrank into him leaving a void which Cora hadn't realized that she had begun to grow accustom.

"We are still alien. Would not the void be greater than that which is between Havarl and Aya? Maybe - maybe I should be more in tune with my people."

Amarek silently put half of his second roll onto Yedo's plate as if it were nothing. Cora nearly cringed. She had seen what it meant, and a part of her would not stand to see him drug into the middle of her battle. When Yedo looked up at him, Amarek looked bored more than anything else, but Cora had watched him more than she wanted to admit. That calm deameanor didn't match the uptick in his field.

"Sentience made you what you are. Don't let the collective overtake that."

Yedo's eyes widened before a frown spread over his face, and his field washed with disapproval - a reaction that Cora had not expected from the boy. The open angara was offended, and Amarek simply sat eating peacefully.

"I'm going to the Headquarters," Yedo said pointedly to Cora in a clipped voice.

She watched Yedo take his tray to scrape the dishes and distribute them into the correct bins. When he approached the can, his lips pressed into a line, and his brows pulled down over his eyes, but he gingerly took a cloth wrap and placed the roll in it wrapping it before turning to leave. She looked at Amarek intrigued and angry at his treatment but couldn't help seeing Yedo treating the bread as something fragile. It almost was. She was not culturally savvy, but she could see a battle being fought as the wheels turned.

"You're sharing." The voice was both a sentence and a question at once, and she turned to Amarek catching his fleeting glance. "I must admit that I did not realize your preferences leaned so young."

She flushed remembering Amarek's back as he disappeared into the shared rooms the previous evening. "They don't. He's sharing my domicile."

She had expected a relief in his stance, but his nonchalance pulled him into the powerful corded display that had so entranced her the night before in the humid Ayan twilight. "A worthy choice. Domiciles are free to all."

"Worthier than baiting a partner for the shared rooms."

His pupils dilated as he looked at her, and she felt a jolt of anger in his skin and his field as it brushed against her leg. "One should never dream of such."

The tension surprised her. Perhaps it shouldn't have. They had been friends of a sort, and he had never pressed her - only displayed and danced. But she had seen it. She had seen him enter alone, but she really had no idea from there. Her judgements were not always correct, and informed guesses were still simply guessing. She knew that.

"You - you do things that -" She glanced around the now somewhat bustling dining area before letting her eyes rest on his. "You don't have to stand up for me."

An audible hum filled his vicinity, and his features softened. He reached for her tray placing his hand over her own - warmth over cold skin, and she felt the thrum through him realizing he was purring in both body and field.

"Let me take this. Your domicile contains more than one bunk, yes? We can talk then."

She knew that he knew his culture better than her. He knew there were six bunks to a room, yet he asked. He always asked. He offered warmth and comfort, but most importantly, it was always her methodical human pace that he matched not expecting her to live up to angaran society. She nodded, and he took their trays. They walked in silence to the training room. The bite of the morning chill being deflected by his body heat. She wondered if it was an evolutionary adaptation - this warmth. Perhaps it was developed to ward against the continuous night chill on Havarl. Maybe an angaran soldier was more blessed to go to Voeld than Kadara. She supposed that was the reason it was home to the rebels. When they reached the entrance to the Headquarters, his warmth stayed a step behind her.

"Teacher Cora." His deep voice sounded odd in the hushed notes that he used. "Yedo - He does not understand. This is the only life he has known - war without peace and -" He looked around, and Cora knew he was seeing a different Aya in that moment. What had that past Aya looked like? What had it felt like? She wanted to ask, but more than anything, she wanted to be told. She wanted to live in Amarek's world for a moment.

The door behind her hissed open, and she jumped. She had not been aware of anything other than the reminiscence of her companion. It was the general. His eyes lingered on her with no more than what she thought was the usual amount of contempt before flicking to Amarek. A portion of her detested that flippant dismissal, but when his face turned into a scowl, she was only glad she was not on the receiving end.

"Amarek Davesh." It was acknowledgement and nothing more.

"General." Amarek's voice was polite - even pleasant, but it seemed only to disagree with the general more.

"I hear you checked into a shared room last night alone. I would be remiss to let your status-" The word was spat. "-lend you a reprieve from the duties that everyone shares in these times. It is a species-wide conflict after all."

Amarek smiled. "I believe Cora Harper would disagree. It is a galaxy-wide conflict, and it would be disgraceful to leave our allies out of our discussions on such matters."

The general turned to her. "Perhaps the Pathfinder should consider adopting our solutions. Maybe then our fellows would not feel so inclined to behave... distastefully."

Cora followed Amarek's example and smiled. "I believe I could persuade the Pathfinder. Provided your ideas show merit." She was thrilled at the hum of approval from Amarek.

Evfra simply stared at her. "Perhaps."

He nodded toward Amarek before simply walking away from the pair. Cora let out the breath she was holding and felt the tension melt. Amarek's field was still humming happiness as he watched the general disappear. He turned to her fixing her with his slitted eyes - the folds on his neck cording as he flexed.

"You have a class, yes? I am eager for today's lesson."

His tone had that deep seductive quality that she had come to notice in him, and she didn't know if it was due to the general's prodding or her general stubborn ways, but she didn't back down nor blush. She held her head higher and with a curt nod turned to teach her class. It was rewarding. Perhaps it had been the thrill she had gotten from confronting the powerful. As she walked through her class, she felt their fields extend and contract with her instructions and offered assistance where it was needed. Amarek stood beside Yedo guiding his hands and field through gentle nudges. It was sweet of him, but he was the only one that was helpful. The pair was secluded and untouched by their neighbors who shivered away from them - retreating along the fringes of the pair's fields. Unfortunately, Yedo even seemed to shy away from Amarek. The boy seemed nervous and sweated as they went through minor steps together. She wondered if Amarek's Aya would have shunned him or Yedo or both. She would have hoped not. She did not see what was incorrect about passion or privacy, but she was selfish. She was arrogant. She was human.

The general's eyes connecting with her own flashed in her mind. Why was he at the shared rooms? Maybe that was how he had known of Amarek's transgression. Maybe he was watching and listening. In all this time, Cora had never asked Amarek what his function - or status - was on Aya. She didn't know what he did when he was not in her class or his other duties. She hadn't seen him at the tavetaan either, but he was angara. He had a purpose on this planet as everyone did. She watched him take the sphere of field and manipulate it in front of Yedo murmuring. His fingers moved thickly as if pushing the energy was difficult. The thin strands connecting his field to his fingertips flashed like lightning. With a wink, his hands opened making the sphere dissipate. Cora imagined the field snapping back to his body and settling inside of his skin. He placed his hands on Yedo's shoulders lightly and stood letting the sparks build between their skin and slowly ran his hands down to end at Yedo's palms. The rivulets of biotic energy raced with his fingertips ending in the same sphere that Amarek had held himself though infinitely smaller. The lightning converged on the sphere which gradually shrank until no object could be seen between Yedo's hands. The field faded to nonexistence, and still Amarek stood watching Yedo's intent unseeing gaze. Eventually, the boy's breath released, and he blinked slowly and languidly as if waking from a dream. Amarek spoke to him with an easy approval, and Cora shook her head. Amarek was a fast student, and a part of her thought he would do a better job than she in this position.

A student touched her arm, and she tried not to flinch at the foreign contact before she turned to assist the others. Class passed quickly after that. Before she knew it, her students had absorbed her stretches as best they could, and she could see them waning. The angara acted as if they had been exercising intently for the last hour and a half. Sweat beaded most of their faces as they stood before her shivering in the chill of the air conditioning. Her biotic energy was different. She wondered if this was due to it being less natural. She had been augmented as many others were, and she had certainly not been the best at it. The thought left a pang in her heart that she quickly covered. The past had been left in the Milky Way, and she would be much better off if it stayed there if the communications were any judge.

She looked to Yedo and Amarek's corner. The boy was resting on his haunches with his arms strung across his knees like limp rags. He looked fragile compared to the seasoned bulk of Amarek resting gently and intently in front of him. Amarek glanced to her at the dismissal before flickering back to his student. The other classmates paid him no mind. He was a ghost – a pariah in a web of community. Cora approached unsure of where to go or how to start. She bent down tucking her legs underneath her and followed Amarek's gaze trying to see what he saw.

Yedo breathed deep and long something she would imagine a diver would do. His collarbone jutted precariously from his shoulders as his head hung forward as limp as his arm. He didn't sweat. He was relaxed and deep as if in a trance. Cora thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep, but when she reached to touch him, Amarek caught her wrist gently.

"Wait," he rumbled low, and Cora detected a note of awe in his voice. She looked harder at the boy hoping to see the sign that Amarek had seen, but she only saw his peace.

She took his advice and sat still. She tried to mimic Amarek for as long as possible. Patience had never been a virtue for her. The asari had helped her strengthen it, but sometimes the past pushed far into a person's personality leaving scars that could only be painted. Her legs began to have pins and needles race up them, and eventually she did not even feel that. She envied Yedo's limp arms and easy composure. At times, she was amazed she could even lay still long enough to sleep. His eyes blinked, and his breath stuttered before he realized they were both staring at him. A purple flush filled his cheeks.

"Did I do well?"

Amarek's smile warmed. "Yes. Very well indeed."

The boy glowed at the praise, but Cora was lost. She tried to shake it off when his eyes turned expectantly to her own. Amarek had seen value, so she simply smiled encouragingly. Her best student could not be wrong, and Yedo basked in the praise even though he seemed to be unused to it.

"You should be proud of yourself."

Yedo froze, and his face fell. "Perhaps."

He wouldn't commit to the words. His hands became taut as rope as he sat mulling over his thoughts in silence. Cora wanted to smack herself. This was supposed to be a celebration from what she could tell, but she had ruined it once more with her careless words. Yedo stood and stretched. His long arms nearly scraped the ceiling.

"The tavetaan will be busy today. It will be good to join the community again, brother."

His field rippled around him screaming the uncertainty in his voice, and Cora was a little touched. The pair had seemed to have a rocky relationship. It was much the same as her own. Yedo's overture was very public and very risky. They had each taken the turn to become separate, and still Yedo would call Amarek brother bringing him in the public eye as a companion. Amarek's gaze did not waver as he reached up allowing the young man to pull him to his feet their shoulders knocking – one steady and one tentative.

"It would be good to join you, Yedo."

Yedo's face had the same flush but brighter. His disapproval lined his field, but there was another touch. Cora thought she could see it in the curve of his spine as he stretched to his natural height. She hoped it was pride. What would it be like to be 'brother' first and 'Yedo' second? A part of her knew that. She had been 'weapon' before she had been 'Cora'.

Amarek turned to her and held a hand to her. She looked at it then into his face. Was she 'Cora' to him? She could be 'human' or 'teacher'. She thought of Alec. She was 'Cora' to him. It had been confusing after his death, and she had resented him for not handing his position to her, but he had understood. She had been 'Cora' to him, and she was glad it had stayed that way. She didn't need to be Pathfinder. She had spent too long with titles and positions already, and she was worlds away from that now.

"Cora? You are hungry, yes?"

She nodded taking his hand. The lift was gentler and less urgent, but her shoulder did hit his chest. The hexagonal weave on the cloth of his shirt was close enough for her to see the stretch. The warm of his body and his hand was there and gone in an instant. He strode ahead leading the way. Yedo glanced at her waiting for her to follow. She did, and they stayed in step behind Amarek.