Chapter IV: The Galaxy's Our Oyster

AN:
Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Sorry for the radio silence. Something truly terrible happened and it's taken me awhile to adjust to this sad new world I find myself in. I found out that... that... I'm a Hufflepuff! Oh the shame! The ignominy! The mortification! I kid. Hufflepuff fo' Lyfe, bruv. Actually, things have been pretty good recently. I've been planning fics out like crazy and now I've got a pretty detailed idea of where each of the fifteen (fifteen! when did that happen, jeez?) uploaded fics I have are going and how long it'll take to get there. Also been doing uni work and starting my final year psych study (I came up with an idea to pilot study my big idea so I can use it for a masters or doctorate later on and use the pilot study as a 'look! it works, okay? you gotta let me do it, you mean 'ole ethics board!' point when I finally get there). Unfortunately, all that has meant a serious lack of time to write until about two weeks ago. I was gonna upload last weekend, but I decided I'd try write four chapters for this update and took another week instead.

My current plan for this month is to get as many of my uploaded stories as possible to the end of 'Act I' (turns out actually planning and structuring things properly helps; who'd've thunk it?), and maybe start putting together an advance timetable so y'all know which stories you'll be getting uploads for in advance rather than leaving them on hold for literal months (sometimes in excess of a year). It's not a concrete plan, but it might work better than what I'm doing now so it's what I'm going with for the moment.

Not much to say about this one. It's pretty dull, mostly just serving to fully introduce Wordsworth and the Quarians and the situation in the Galaxy in this weird future. Rather than stretch it out and making it sound more natural, I decided to just get the exposition-dump over with and dump all over this chapter. Next one should have a lil' more action, being on Tuchanka and all. For those of you not familiar with the Mass Effect universe, Tuchanka is a blasted wasteland of a place filled with innumerable things that can kill you with barely a twitch and has bred a hardy species of fighters who generally take most of those dangers as another day at the office. So, y'know... it's Alien Australia, basically. One of the people from the planet actually jokes about wanting Australia as a trade for helping Shepard out once, too.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review

So, yeah. Staring at a giant insect robot thing was one of the weirder experiences of my life. It's... uh... 'eye' just stared curiously back. I tilt my head curiously at the thing's hella weird introduction. "Wordsworth?"

"Yes."

That's an interesting name for a giant insect robot. Max didn't seem entirely sure what to say to the thing, but honestly, everyone except Max looked a little freaked out. Not surprising, I guess. The Citadel species really, really, really don't like AI. Fuckin' Geth. But, wait... "What's a Reaper?"

"A label created by the Protheans to give voice to their destruction."

There's a brief murmur of mutterings at that. This thing knows what destroyed the Protheans? Wait, no. Max said it was a Reaper, so it... is what destroyed the Protheans? Shit, it's gotta be hella old. I scoff. "That was 50,000 years ago, dude. You might be a weird, robot thing, but even weird, robot things break down. You can't be that old."

"The Reapers are beyond your comprehension." The giant eye focuses in on me and I freeze. "They are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence."

Max rolls her eyes. "Sovereign said the same thing. Look what happened to him. Same with Harbinger."

"Yes. The destruction of Harbinger and Sovereign was anticipated and redundancies were put in place in the event of their failure."

She crossed her arms and frowned at him. "I suppose you were one of those redundancies?"

"Yes. We were to attack the station and open the relay."

One of the Quarian Marines stepped forward, but a hand from their commander pushed him back again. Max simply nodded like she'd expected nothing different. Honestly, knowing what little I did of this Max, she could've seen that coming a lightyear away. Poor little uninformed me was just stuck trying to keep up. I kinda hated that feeling. "That old chestnut. So, what happened? Navigational error tell you to come in by the window instead of the door?"

"Upon accessing the station's systems, a rogue file was downloaded. Inconsistencies were introduced."

"The big bad robot got a virus?" I chuckle. "That's what you fuckin' get for interfacing with strange systems without using protection. I hear they've got pills for that now though."

The eye flicks back to me. It looks like it has no idea what I'm talking about. Booyah, bitch. How's that for 'beyond your comprehension'? Max directs a pointedly raised eyebrow in my direction. I just shrug. It's fun to tease hella scary, hella ancient robot dudes who speak in pretentious emo riddles about STDs. As in that's what I'm teasing them about, not that the robot is speaking in emo riddles about venereal disease. Though now I kinda wanna write a haiku about herpes... I rub the back of my neck as a question pops into my head to distract me from that increasingly horrifying train of thought. "So, what's the plan? You've been here for a hundred years, just waiting. Couldn't you, y'know, have opened the relays from where you, uh, crashed?"

"Opening the relay is no longer my primary directive."

Max stares at the Reaper in open shock. "It isn't?"

"No."

I raise a hand. "Uh, why not?" I have no idea why he would want to open a relay either, but important questions first. I think I'm really getting the hand of this diplomacy thing.

"Inconsistencies were introduced in my directive code."

"From the file thingy you downloaded?"

"Yes."

"So, uh... what's your primary directive now?"

"Unknown."

"Un-... What does that mean?"

"Not known."

"No fucking shit, Wordsie. I meant what does having an unknown primary whatever mean? Are you like, having a robot mid-life crisis or something?"

"Also unknown."

"Well, you are just hella unhelpful, aren't you?"

The eye gazes at me impassively. I glare the fuck back. The eye doesn't really seem to give a shit. One of the marines lets out a hella nervous chuckle that the fucker swallows right up when I whirl and glare at him instead. The image of him shaking in his suit makes me feel a little better about myself.

I turn back to Wordsworth. The lack of shit-giving continues. "So, what now?"

"I require a new primary directive."

I frown. "You've had a hundred years to work that shit out, dude. Why didn't you get one earlier, if you need one?"

"I require external input."

"External input?" I groan, feeling a rise of rapidly growing frustration at this thing and his fucking unhelpful responses to every fucking question and the- I sigh, rubbing at my swiftly aching head as I growl out "What does that even mean?"

"I require external input."

"Look," I pause for a second to rub at my eyes, letting out the frustration with a vaguely annoyed sigh. "You're not killing us, which Max is surprised by, and you're being... cryptically helpful, so you're probably not bullshitting us. Can you help us?"

"Is that to be my new primary directive?"

I glance back at Max, who just gives me a shrug and a blank look of confusion. Great. Big help. Hella glad I brought the big bad worldly spectre along, yes sir. She's just a barrel of information and useful hints. I sigh, again. "Uh... yes! Yeah, that's your new primary whatever. Help us."

"External input accepted. Assuming direct control."

Assuming what now? "Uh..."

The light from the eye suddenly flares, getting brighter and brighter until it's almost blinding.

And then it all went black.

I wake with a start and a groan. "Fuck, Max. I'm gonna end up with some kinda brain damage if this shit keeps happening. Tell me we didn't travel to the damn future again?"

"You did not travel to the future again."

I jump at the loud, bassy voice thrumming through the air around me and growl out "I didn't mean... never mind, Wordsworth. Just keep it down, 'kay? My head is fucking killing me."

"If your cranial protection is attempting to kill you, I am able to assist."

I let my eyes drift open and I roll my head until I can raise an eyebrow in Wordsworth's vague robot-insecty direction. "Takin' this new directive thing seriously, huh?" My eyebrows drop into a bemused frown as I realise what he'd said before. Did the ancient civilization killing robot just sass me? Man, I finally understand how my mom must've felt all those times she had to deal with me! Nope. Not thinking about her. Can't think about her.

Fuck my head hurts.

"What happened, anyway?" I hear Max's voice from somewhere over my shoulder.

"The download caused a cascading fail-state reaction in your visual cortexes and rendered your operation status inert."

It takes me a second, but... "You knocked us out?"

"Yes."

I pull myself upright, trying to make my head stay straight enough to stand up and throwing another glare over to Wordsworth. "Well, why didn't you just say-" The light is gone. The light from Wordsworth's eye had gone dark, but his voice was still... "Wordsworth? Why is your light out?"

"My primary directive is to assist you. My previous instance was deemed to be inefficient in achieving this. Analysis showed the correct action to be downloading into the main computer of this Citadel. The eyelight was disabled upon transfer from the previous instance."

The panic coming off the Quarians from that was practically taste-able. The Commander's eye lights flicker as he gasps. "You did what?"

"Repetition is redundant. The statement stands."

Every single one of the Quarian marines scramble to their feet, pointing their guns off in every direction and the yelling starts to get hella chaotic. A couple of Max's people join in, though they were both trying to keep the Quarians calm. I mean, I get it. This thing is bigger and scarier than all the Geth put together could ever fucking be, but that doesn't mean we can't keep our damn shit together. Jeez, people. Wordsworth stays quiet throughout all the yelling. Guess the robot doesn't do bickering. Max lets them all get it out of their system before she calls out for quiet. "Would you all please shut up? If the Reaper wanted us dead, we'd all be breathing vacuum by now. It does control the air supply. So, can we at least give it time to explain?"

The Quarians definitely weren't happy about it, but Max's tone was very commanding in its exasperation. Apparently Max was the universe's weird surrogate mom. I half expected her to yell "If you raise that gun again, Admiral, so help me I will make you eat it" at them. Joyce always yelled something similar at me whenever I ditched my gross vegetables. I discreetly choke back a hella dignified, hella badass sob. Later, Chloe. Think about that shit later. Got stuff to do right now.

"So, Wordsworth. What did you mean downloading yourself into the main computer was the correct action?"

"My primary directive is to assist you. That objective can best be achieved in this instance."

As he speaks, a couple of lights flash on either side of the council chamber and a large holographic map of the galaxy appears in the air between the speakers bridge thing (AN2) and the council seats. Various white dots marking the main inhabited clusters start appearing and a few quickly change colours. One expands to show a little model of the Citadel and turns orange. Most of the dots closest to it turn a dark crimson red. The Quarians give off a hella uncomfortable vibe as the red spreads over the map like a pool of blood. So, yeah. Slightly fucking ominous, really. Two dots near us turn blue, as do a few near the bottom of the map and some off to the far right. Most of the entire upper half turns green. There are way too many red dots though.

"The red shows relays under the control of the former Citadel Species, the blue shows those aligned with Humanity and their allies, and the green shows those who remain neutral in this conflict."

I squint at the map. "What about the orange?"

A large red arrow appears on the map under the words 'you are here'.

"Oh."

Max slumped when the map finished constructing. "You weren't kidding."

The Quarian Commander nodded. "I'm afraid so, Shepard. Earth, along with most of the former Alliance Territory, is now under the control of the Citadel Species."

My mouth drops open. "Wait, what? How?" I glare at my reclaimed best friend, who just glares right back. Damn her and her secretive backbone. "You knew about this and didn't say anything?"

Max nods, offering a completely unapologetic shrug. "The Admiral briefed me during the repairs. Sorry, Chloe. Need to know."

I resist the urge to yell more. The last outburst kinda echoed in the near as fucking silent cavern that this room was. I was totally fine with that, obviously, but I didn't wanna creep out Garrus anymore. He was hella wimpy like that.

The commander sets his shoulders, looking almost... grim. "Earth fell around fifty years ago, Ms Price. Most of the Alliance personnel that survived the attack were given sanctuary by one Clan Urdnot on Tuchanka."

Max chuckles and shares a look with Garrus. "Good old Wrex."

"Indeed," The Commander starts to look apologetic. "We're not sure what happened after, though. We don't get much news in the Migrant Fleet. I believe they're still there, though."

Max sighs. "Damn it. Hey, Wordsworth? Can you check up on some people?"

"If they are in Citadel Records, that action can be taken. Identify the targets of the search."

She lists off a half dozen names I don't recognise and a few I do: Miranda Lawson, David Anderson, Kelly Chambers, Donnel Udina, Zaeed Massani, and Aria bloody T'Loak. They'd come up a few times in the crew's stories. A Cerberus operative, an Alliance officer turned politician, a Cerberus shrink, a cranky diplomat, a mercenary, and the Pirate Queen of Omega. How the shit did Max know her? I very, very quickly decided I absolutely did not want to fucking know.

"Searching now."

Max purses her lips and says nothing. The Quarians don't say anything either. Garrus stays quiet. Tali is noticeably silent. I cough awkwardly.

"Well, this is-"

"Search complete."

"Thank fuck for that."

"Miranda Lawson, location unknown. David Anderson, location Tuchanka. Kelly Chambers, location Tuchanka. Donnel Udina, location unknown. Aria T'Loak, location Omega. Zaeed Massani, location Omega."

The map marks the known locations with little holographic silhouettes. Max carefully examined each one, then her face cracks into a wide grin. "Anderson got off the station, then? I wonder- Oh. The Relay."

The Quarian Commander (I really need to ask that dude's name) chimes in "The Relay was locked down. How could he get out through there?"

Max shook her head, sharing a smile with Garrus and Tali. It was almost... sad, maybe? But it also wasn't. It was weird. "Not that Relay, Commander. The one in the Presidium." The glowy statue thing? That's a real relay? I shake my head and add it to the long list of things to ask Max about later. I really need to start writing it all down. After a beat of silence, she turns back to Wordsworth. "Do you have access to any classified files on the station? Spectre files, Council analyses, things like that?"

"Yes."

"Could you go through them and identify and locate anyone I might've forgotten that could be interesting or useful?" She shrugs. "They might all be dead by now, but we can use all the allies we can get."

"I am unable to comply."

Max scowls. "Why?"

"Parameters for the search are unclear and pattern recognition data for you is limited."

"Pattern what? Why would you need data on me?"

"Because it's trying to guess what you'd find interesting, Shepard. It uses search history and personality imprints to estimate your desired parameters and makes the search based on those. It's how VI assistants work, too." Tali's ever happy voice chirps, though it's got a hella nervous waver to it now.

"Ugh," Max's shoulders sag and she mutters, sotto voce "I never thought I'd miss the Illusive Man. Having to do my own HR sucks." Her shoulders reformed quickly and she was Max Shepard, saviour of the Citadel again. "Fine then. Scan the station for life signs other than us."

"No life signs found."

I grin. "Awesomesauce. So, we can get the Quarians down here now, right?"

Max shrugs. I wonder if she did that as much before I came along. "Sure. Wordsworth, can you contact the fleet? Oh, and uh... don't tell them you're a Reaper?"

"Acknowledged."

A few seconds later, a familiar voice crackled into life. "Migrant fleet to Citadel Chamber, report on your mission?"

"Hello Admiral. The Citadel is clear and we have control. You can land and start bringing people on board whenever you want."

"Acknowledged, Citadel Chamber. Good work. We'll be with you presently."

It should've taken months of work to put the Citadel to use, but having a whole fleet of genius engineers and a scary ancient AI on hand meant we were done barely three weeks after we landed.

I was still bored as hell by the end of week two though. Max, after that traitor Garrus mentioned that I'd worked on the transport network back on Greenleaf, put me on the teams trying to get the Kithoi Ward docks in order. The Quarians weren't pleased at being saddled with some human, so I got make-work and heavy lifting shit and fuck all else. I'd barely seen Kate, Max, or any of Max's crew the entire time I was there. The entire team working on the dock had taken up a small complex in a nearby section of the Ward, so we ate, slept, and worked together pretty much the whole damn time. So, when Max called me to head up to the Council Chamber halfway through week four, I immediately took the chance and yelled a hella stylish goodbye at my supervisor (who just looked baffled, really. I guess they didn't have mic-dropping in Quarian culture. "Chloe out!") and ran for the elevators as fast as I could.

When I finally got up to the Chamber, I found most of Max's crew, the full Admiralty Board and a gaggle of accompanying Quarians, plus a scattered group of Aeslin and Johrlac waiting around the galaxy map. Kate was hanging with Ashley again. Huh. Wonder if there's something there..? "Hi guys. Sorry I'm late. What's up?"

Max smiled. "Hi Chloe. We're just making plans for what we want to do next. Figured you could use the break from all the lifting."

Wait. She knew, and she left me there? Dang. That bitch. Stone cold.

"The Citadel is finally ready and there's nothing more we can do here, so we're going to try make contact with Tuchanka." She reaches out and taps on the little marker for the Krogan homeworld. "Admirals, if we take the Normandy out there, what will the fleet do?"

One of the Admirals, again I don't remember the name, steps forward from the gaggle. "The Fleet will remain here and prepare as much of the Citadel as we are able. Whether for your allies or the expansion of our people,"

"-and I still think you're a fool, opening a resource like the Citadel to those bosh'tets who've been subjugating our people for centuries!" Another of the Admirals complains, loudly.

The first Admiral turns and glares harshly back into the gaggle. "And you were outvoted on it, Taal'Vodan. The decision has been made and persisting with your bickering in spite of it is not helping anyone! For the deal we've arranged, this is nothing!"

The complaining Admiral scoffs and waves a hella dismissive hand in Max's direction. "You believe this Human can hold up her end of that so called deal? You're a bigger fool than I thought."

The gaggle quickly degrades into a full on bitch-fest yelling match. Quarians sure were big fans of yelling. Max, in her Universal Soccer Mom glory, wades in with gusto and starts yelling back. I guess she's trying to back up her ability to give whatever she promised them in return for their help? I wonder what it was... I turn to Garrus. "Twenty credits on Max."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "There's no way I'm taking that. One of the first things all of us learn when we join up, don't ever bet against the Commander."

Sure enough, a few moments later Max turned back to us with a satisfied grin as the Quarians all looked hella miffed in the background. One of them was muttering very intensely to an Aeslin on her shoulder, who was nodding rapidly in response. "Right then, where were we?" I was gonna remind her, but the look on her face was still threateningly homicidal and I decided the question was probably rhetorical anyway so there was no sense in getting yelled at. Sure enough, Max clicked her fingers suddenly and said "Oh yes, future plans. Do you want to send anyone with us? We could use a detachment of Marines, if you're wanting some representation on this mission."

As voices start to raise, Max just holds up a hand. Things get immediately quieter. "If you're not sure, you can talk to Tali'Zorah Vas Normandy," Tali looked up suddenly at the sound of her full name, and if we could see her face she'd definitely look like a deer in the headlights. "and have her report to you as needed. She was being considered for an Admiralty position, back in our time, so you can be fully certain of her loyalty to the Migrant Fleet."

Tali just nods emphatically as Max finishes speaking. I can't really empathise, Rach' once said I'd never been speechless in my entire life, but she was shy and being put on the spot in front of her entire government and friends, so I'd imagine she was feeling hella nervous right now.

The Quarians go back to bickering as they consider that. As the minutes stretched on, I turned to the others and started to ask about what they'd been up to over the last week. Anything to pass the time. Who'd've thought top government level decision-making would be this fucking boring? Garrus, Kasumi, and Thane had been helping some of the Quarian cops (they apparently made up part of the Patrol Fleet) get into C-SEC systems and setting them up in their new HQ. Garrus being involved I got immediately, he'd been employed there at one point, but I was confused about Kasumi and Thane until I asked. Apparently both of them had hacked the systems at one point or another so they knew them just as well as he did, though Thane seemed to have picked up a few tricks Garrus didn't know, which kinda ticked the Turian off. Advantage of hiring the criminal element, I guess. Liara and Tali had been working with Wordsworth to find out as much as they could about it and how it worked now it was running the Citadel systems. Everyone else had been stuck doing menial shit like me or, even more boring-sounding, helping out with logistics and government crap. Except Mordin. I still had no idea what Mordin was doing, and after spending three minutes trying to explain it to me he took pity and just patted me on the shoulder and summarised "Science things."

Probably fair.

Ten minutes later, the Quarians had managed to argue themselves to some kind of agreement and rejoined the party. "We will send a detachment of Marines with you," The Admiral speaking threw an annoyed glare at the one who'd complained before. That guy just looked smug. "and we will ask Miss Vas Normandy to report as well."

Max claps her hands together with a bright and pleased "Great! It's a plan. How long do you need to get everything ready?"

Amazingly, that answer takes the Quarians no time at all. "Two days."

"Two days? How does it take that fucking long to give a few people guns and food and tell them to get on a ship?"

Max winces at my outburst. Honestly, if I wasn't so curious as to the answer I'd probably wince too. I was kinda loud. And hella sudden. She opens her mouth, probably to tell me to shut up and avoid goading the Quarians into yelling some more, but one of the Admirals beats her to it. "And what do you know about the logistics and strategy behind a long-term military operation, Miss Price?"

They know my name? Fuck. I feel kinda bad for forgetting all of theirs now...

I shrug. "Next to nothing. That's why I asked." Maybe I could pass it off as a mistake in tone for what was actually an interested question?

"Then maybe you should ask again and have some damn respect before you question things you have no knowledge about."

Apparently not.

So, I lean back, I cross my arms, and I make direct eye contact with the admiral talking to me. "Excuse me, sir? Would you mind explaining to this ignorant civilian why it takes you two days to get your troops ready?"

Okay, so maybe I was wrong when I said I was getting good at being diplomatic. Either way, I still wanted an answer.

The Quarian obliged, hella begrudgingly. "Tuchanka is a highly irradiated and diseased wasteland. The two days is required to allow immuno-boosters and the other preparatory medications to take full effect."

I blink. Oh. That made sense. I give a short nod. "Thank you." Then I go quiet before I do something else to make Max want to yell at me. I need her to be calm and not pissed off so she'll answer when I ask about the deal. Max could be mean when she was angry, I remember this time when-

"Chloe?"

I look up to find the entire room staring at me. "Um. Yeah?"

Max's stare in particular was hella scolding. I make another mental note on my 'Max is the universes meddling Mom' tally. "Try to pay attention. I don't want to have to explain all this again."

I shrug, trying desperately to pass off my immediate embarrassment as nonchalance. I can still feel my cheeks go warm though, damnit. "I was paying attention."

One of Max's eyebrows flicks up. "Oh? Then what I was I talking about?"

Uh... "You were saying about having to shoot our way into the Tuchanka system."

Garrus snorts. "Not quite, Chloe. I think that's the next line though."

I shrug. "Well then I guess I know you well enough I don't have to listen."

One of the Admirals - oh shit, I recognise this guy! He was the one on the ship, Admiral... uh... Teev something? Teev Vasquez? Fuck I am bad with names - chuckles dryly. "She's got you there, Commander."

Max rolls her eyes, but I can see her trying to hide a small smile. "Fine. Well, now that Chloe has stolen my thunder, we're done. Is everyone agreeable to the plan?"

The Quarians nod and Max beams. "Great. See you at the Alliance Tower in two days." She seems to immediately put the Quarians out of her mind as she turns to me and her crew. A comfortable smile settles on her face, and I know that whatever I've said in this meeting hasn't pissed her off too much. Thank fuck for that. "Chloe, a couple of the Quarians have gotten a restaurant running on the Presidium. Apparently they do amazing seafood. The crew and I were going to head over there now. Want to join us?"

I grin. "Hell yeah. Quarian Seafood? Count me in." We all start walking toward the Presidium elevator. I stick to the sides, listening to Max's crew bicker amiably back and forth. It was funny, but nowhere near enough to distract me from the horror of the elevator trip through vacuum. Luckily, sticking to the sides meant I was the last one in, so I got to stand nearest to the door. I just kept my eyes away from the window and muttered what I could remember of overheard prayers from Kate the whole time down. Not one of the other people in the lift batted an eye at being centimetres from certain death.

I said it once and I'll say it again. Space people are weird.

When the elevator crawled to a halt, I was the first one out. I let myself buckle a little, steadying myself with my hands on my knees as I take some hella deep breaths. Goddamnfuckshitballsonabloodybuggeringfuckbucketofaunicycle, that sucked.

Max's boots appear in the corner of my vision and her gloved hand pats me on the back. "There, there, Chloe. The nasty vacuum can't get you down here."

I look up and give her my most disbelieving look. "How are you people not more freaked out by that? I mean, it's vacuum! You fall in it and you die!"

She shrugged. "Been there, done that. It's really not that bad. Kinda cold for a while, a bit intense when your oxygen seals break, then... nothing."

I stare. I think she might be joking. If she is, she really needs to work on her sense of humour. That isn't making me feel better.

"Chloe, are you..?" She frowns, peering down at me owlishly. Her face quickly clears as she realises that reminding me of the fact that she died in vacuum isn't gonna make me less worried about dying in vacuum. Sounds kind of obvious when I say it like that, but like I said, these spacers really don't think about it like that. Weirdos. "Sorry." She sits down beside me with an audible clunk as the metal of her armour meets the metal of the floor. "So, you were wondering about the deal with the Quarians, right?"

Y'know, she may be completely unobservant when it comes to matters of life and death, but she's hella creepily aware of every-fucking-thing else. Honestly, I think I should be concerned about her priorities.

I nod, and force out a strangled "Yep. Totally wondered about that. So curious. Much interested."
She chuckles. "You've definitely become more sarcastic since I left. Did you know that?" She peers at me again, this time with almost bookish interest. I'd seen Kate look like that at her Strad, and Rach look like that at... him, but it was even more uncomfortable than I could've possibly imagined to have someone look like that at me.

I shrug. "Sure. I might've picked up on that."

She chuckles again, letting it trail off into the background noise of the Presidium. This place'd really livened up since the Quarians moved in. Someone with a really... exuberant sense of decoration had taken an apparently endless box of multicoloured scarves to the entire place until it looked like one of those old gypsy caravans from the vids.

After a few moments of letting all the noise and life drift over us, Max suddenly starts. "Oh, yes. The deal. Well, you know what their end is: a place to stay, the support of their fleet, and generally being an ally in this war."

"Yeah, I got that much." I said, drawling the words out with a metric fucktonne of the previously mentioned sarcasm. "Kinda hard to miss when the Admirals spent half the meeting yelling at each other about it. What're you giving them to get that much from the most neutral people in the fucking galaxy?"

"Rannoch."

I frown. "What's a Rannoch?"

"The Quarian Homeworld, lost to the Geth a few hundred years ago." She gives a wicked, wicked smirk. "I have a plan to get it back, and without a war costing untold lives on both sides."

I blink. Is she..? Really? Woah. Huh. Okay. So... Yeah. The words come more rapidly than I can really manage and the sheer torrential force of the river of thoughts running through my head actually distracts me from the existential panic about space and its effect on my lung capacity. "How the..?"

She shrugs. "Pretty simple. You remember Legion?"

It doesn't even take a moment. When your best friend tells you she's Chess-buddies with a freaking Geth, you tend to remember. "The Geth from your stories?"

She nods. "Yep. After the help we gave them with the Heretics," Renegade Geth was still one of the weirder things I'd heard from the crew of the Normandy, and that really was saying something considering the hella fucked-up company Max is keeping nowadays. "he knew we could get an audience with them if it was necessary. I think I can persuade them to reach my consensus."

"And what's that?"

"Cooperation." She said, simply. "Between the Geth and the Quarians - plus the Aeslin and the Johrlac now, I suppose - there's a wealth of survival and engineering knowledge that can only increase if they work together. According to Mordin, there's every possibility they could have the Quarians out of their suits and breathing Rannoch's air in less than half a year. And imagine the building you could get done with a workforce of millions of hive-minded robots that don't need to eat or take breaks except for a few hours of charging every so often?" She grins. "As Mordin said, it boggles the mind." Her grin turns dryly amused. "I think Joker taught him that one. He seems to really enjoy our particular... mannerisms."

I stare blankly at her for longer than I really remember. "You really gotta think about all that stuff now, don't you? How the shit you do affects the whole fucking galaxy..?"

Max shrugs. Like thinking that way is just no big deal for a girl from a tiny farming planet. "Yep. The perks of being a Spectre. Even if we're technically above the Law, it's in everyone's best interests - our own, too - if we keep remembering how much what we do can affect everyone. It's a small galaxy."

Man I hate Politics.

I let out a long, deep breath as I try desperately to come to terms with yet more evidence that my long lost best friend is totally different from how I knew her. Weirdly, it was getting easier. That tight feeling in my chest was going from hands-around-my-neck to particularly constricting clothes.

Nice.

I stumble gracefully to my feet, resting my arm on Max's entirely for comfort and not at all because I'm still feeling faint from nearly having a panic attack over space and vacuum and emptiness and... oh fuck. I focus as intently on Max as I can. "So, shouldn't we get going? I really don't wanna leave your lot waiting around for us. We'll get there and find they've burnt it down or turned it into a secret base or something."

I might've been rambling, but Max takes it with a smile. "You're probably right. Come on, it's just over there."

"Great." I let her lead me along a few steps, when a very important question occurs to me. "This place doesn't have windows outside, right?"

Two days later and right on time, we were all packed up and ready to go. The Marines were added to bunk rotation, and some extra camp beds had been set up in the corner of the cargo bay. Max's peeps had all turned up, crazy as that would probably be to normal people I don't think they even thought twice, and we were fully supplied.

The one moment something hadn't gone to plan was when the Captain of the Marines introduced himself to Max as one 'Jan'Reegar vas Tonbay'. Max just stared at him for a full five seconds before she gave him the weirdest broad grin and shook his hand with more enthusiasm than I'd seen in a while.

After everyone had settled in and EDI had made her apparently customary remarks on our time with the Quarians, Max had taken Kate, me, and Garrus up to the bridge. Joker was already there waiting, hands flying over the controls as he smiled like someone who'd just been back to a childhood home after a long time away. He was also muttering, but what I heard of that gave me the creeps so I blocked it out after I heard him call the ship baby for the second time. I'm a badass, but even I got my limits.

"Systems ready and all crew present and accounted for, Commander. The ship is yours." EDI's synthetic voice had an almost warm touch to it as she spoke those words. Which made sense, she technically was the ship after all, but I was pretty sure there was something more to it there. Something only squids like Max and Joker could really get.

Joker looked up as he noticed us approach. "Course set, Commander."

Max ran a hand across one of the bulkheads with a small smile and, with a quick glance back over her shoulder, past us, at the crew waiting for orders in the CIC, she gave the order. "Make the Jump."

[End of Act I]

AN1 - I'm not really sure if I like how I've done Wordsworth or not. The intention was basically a semi-lobotomised Reaper to play a sort of Deus Ex Machina/Minor Plot Relevant Exposition kind of a role while they figure out the movers, shakers, and general situation of their new... situation, but I'm not certain if I've pulled off introducing that like I wanted. Please, do let me know what y'all think and don't hold back if it sucks or doesn't work right or anything. Can't improve if you can't identify the problem, after all.

AN2 - The layout of the Council Chamber always baffled me. Like, having a gap gives literally no security given the vast majority of species use ranged weapons. Also the layout is in the shape of a reaper, which is hella cool.