A/N: It's not quite November 7th here yet, but I know it is somewhere in the world. Happy N7 day!
Onwards with the next (much overdue) chapter...
Chapter Nine
Batshit Crazy
2186 CE
Citadel, Widow
Despite standing in the midst of so many familiar faces, Miranda has never felt more alone. She checks her chrono, asking herself how much time has to elapse before she can reasonably make her exit. Fifteen minutes is probably insufficient.
This would all be a great deal easier if she were surrounded by strangers or mere business associates. Then she would have a purpose - extract information from a scientist; charm a politician; or find a discreet way to ensure that a target didn't leave the building alive. Straightforward.
Instead she's stuck in Shepard's apartment with the woman herself having offered up the only rules of the evening to her guests. Have fun. That's easier said than done. Miranda has fought and bled alongside almost everyone at this party, yet she cannot bring herself to simply walk up to someone like Garrus Vakarian and start a conversation. Regardless, the Turian is preoccupied. He's staring at Tali with an expression so dopey that he seems to be an entirely different individual to the battle-hardened veteran she knows.
Miranda catches Grunt's eye. He gives her a broad, leering grin accompanied by something she assumes is meant to be a wink. She can't look away fast enough. Her gaze settles on Jacob. Miranda asks herself whether it would be acceptable to congratulate him on his impending fatherhood, but he's already talking to Ashley Williams. Her jaw tightens in anger. She hasn't the slightest desire to talk to that woman. It's a conversation that would not end well.
Miranda shifts slightly, leaning back against the wall behind her, making herself smaller. The stitches in her side tug slightly, reminding her yet again that she is lucky to be here at all. Shepard saved her life on Horizon. The least Miranda can do is look like she's enjoying herself.
Her gaze travels up to the mezzanine. There's no question that Shepard is enjoying herself. The Commander looks drunk, or at least Miranda assumes that to be the case with the way she's dancing. Or perhaps Shepard's not drunk at all and that's just the way she dances. At least Shepard is following her own rule.
"Is that a smile on your face, Miri?"
"It most certainly is not," Miranda replies hastily. Was I smiling? She turns to look at her sister. Oriana's cheeks are rosy, flushed with life and nervous energy. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Very much." Oriana beams for a moment before suddenly looking grumpy as she thrusts a full glass towards Miranda. "You, however, look like you're at a funeral. Have a bloody drink."
Miranda accepts the glass of brightly coloured liquid without any intention of drinking it. Still, she's pleased when Oriana mimics her pose, nestling in close as though this is something they've done before. The whole sister thing.
"I still can't believe Commander Shepard invited me. I mean, I recognise just about everyone here from vid feeds. The team that stopped the Collectors. Garrus Vakarian. Tali'Zorah. Justicar Samara!" Oriana's eyes dart around the room, trying to take everyone in at once as she continues to talk at speed. "I didn't think Wrex would be so massive in person. And the last living Prothean…just standing in the same room as me! There's Ashley frickin' Williams. Do you think she'd talk to me?"
"Not if she finds out you're my sister," Miranda murmurs to herself.
"Holy crap…who is that? Over there. Talking to Normandy's pilot and that…the shiny robot lady."
Oriana points far too blatantly for Miranda's liking. "Who? Do you mean Specialist Traynor?"
"Mhmm," Oriana replies with a broad grin. "Specialist in what? Tell me you'll introduce me?"
"Um, I don't really know her." It's the truth. Miranda can barely remember speaking a word to the young woman who seems to have captured her sister's attention.
"I love you, Miri." Oriana turns to deposit a kiss on her cheek. "But you're a colossal buzzkill. Wish me luck."
But Oriana doesn't hang around long enough for Miranda to ask what the luck is for. She's left with a bewildered frown on her face and a drink in her hands. A few minutes of watching her sister flirt expertly with Traynor solves her confusion. Miranda drains her glass, going in search of another before the sexual tension across the room morphs into something she really doesn't need to see.
Behind the bar Miranda helps herself to one of Shepard's bottles of Glenfiddich. Draining one glass straight before pouring a generous second measure over ice. She doesn't need anyone to tell her that the cocktail of painkillers she's still on won't mix well with alcohol.
"Is this one of those places where the bartenders go topless?"
Jack slides onto one of the barstools wearing a shit-eating grin and a new hairstyle. It looks as though something has crawled on top of her head and died there. For a moment Miranda thinks about giving voice to that opinion. However the ex-convict looks as though she's finally started taking pride in her appearance. Despite the haircut and the fact that large swathes of tattooed skin are still on display, Jack's wearing something that resembles Alliance fatigues. Criticising the hairstyle would probably lead to a repeat of the time they laid waste to the engineering sub-level.
Shepard's apartment is nice. Miranda has no desire to ruin it. Instead she pours Jack a drink and slides it across the bar.
"No rise? Colour me impressed...and a little disappointed."
"Oh you managed a rise, Jack." Miranda takes a fortifying gulp of scotch. "And I'd kick your arse, but I have no desire to open up my stitches."
Jack snorts loudly. "Ha! I heard some dude made you into a Cheerleader kebab. That's gotta dent the ego."
Miranda ignores the barb, relying on the fact that Jack has a short attention span. She drains her second glass and starts preparing a third purely to keep herself busy. Drinking it would be foolish. She leans against the bar, hoping that her head will stop spinning of its own accord.
"You're looking a little pale," Jack observes, some of her usual snark missing from her voice. "Paler than usual anyway."
"I'm fine." Miranda's voice is tight.
She should leave. Oriana is old enough to take care of herself and Traynor has always seemed harmless enough. They're in the midst of a War that could eventually see the human race wiped out, she's not going to stop her sister from finding a welcome distraction. And certainly not because her own sex life is absolutely devoid of anything.
"Probably not much time for sun while you're on the run though," Jack continues. "I'd invite you to find out what life is actually like on the front lines, but I wouldn't want you to ruin your complexion."
Jack finally succeeds in earning a rise. "Fuck you, Jack. I almost died stopping my-"
Miranda stops herself. She doesn't need to prove herself, and certainly not to a psychotic little shit like Jack. It's exactly what Jack wants. Plus the timing couldn't be worse. The one person Miranda really doesn't want to have to speak to is walking towards them. Her heartbeat flutters uncontrollably and she blames it on the alcohol as opposed to outfit Shepard is wearing – thigh hugging leather trousers and a skin tight t-shirt that clings to every muscle.
"Having a good time, ladies?" Shepard seems relaxed as she punches Jack playfully on the bicep and props herself up on the bar.
"Nice pad, good booze…shit company." Jack nods towards Miranda.
"Really? With all the sexual tension in this corner of the room I'd have thought otherwise."
Miranda wonders if she's drunker than she feels, but the amused expression on Jack's face indicates that Shepard did actually make the comment. On one hand it could be sarcasm, but Shepard doesn't normally possess such a dearth of wit. As she feels her cheeks start to burn with humiliation, Miranda picks up her untouched drink and tosses it back in one swift movement.
"Shepard! Yo, Shepard!" Vega yells like some sort of oaf in an effort to get Shepard's attention. He flexes his over-muscled bicep. "I'm calling you out, Commander. Chin ups. Max reps. You and me!"
Shepard obviously isn't repulsed by the suggestion. She straightens and flexes her own biceps. They're chiselled and lean. Miranda subconsciously imagines them wrapped around her naked body. She needs to focus her attention on Jack to wipe that image from her mind.
"If you'll excuse me for a bit." Shepard grins, winking at Jack. "Time to go school the upstart youngster."
Miranda makes the further mistake of watching Shepard walk away. She decides that the leather pants should be illegal in all civilised territories. There's nothing to be done but pick up the scotch and pour yet another glass.
Her gaze is slightly foggy when she eventually looks up and finds Jack staring at her with a strange expression.
"What?"
Jack shrugs and runs her tongue over her upper lip. "I dunno. Maybe Shepard has a point. All this time we've been fighting when we could have been fucking. Wanna go a round, Cheerleader?"
An audible groan escapes Miranda's lips. The night could not possibly get any worse. She drains her glass and straightens. With the bar no longer propping her up, Miranda realises that she made a mistake to ignore her earlier warnings about mixing medication and alcohol. She is unequivocally drunk. Jack's still looking at her expectantly. Miranda doesn't know what's worse, the fact that Shepard put the idea into Jack's head or the fact that Jack is actually considering it as a viable option.
Miranda moves out from behind the bar. Being drunk isn't exactly something she is accustomed to and she is surprised to find just how difficult it is to walk.
"I say fuck off, Jack. Fuck. Off." Apparently it's also difficult to deliver a decent insult. "I'd sooner fuck…a hanar!"
With Jack's laughter still trailing after her, Miranda decides she's had more than enough partying to last a lifetime. Oriana's nowhere in sight and Miranda decides that her sister is old enough to find her own way home.
There's one last kick in the gut as she leaves. Shepard's calling after her, trying to get her to stay.
Miranda pretends she doesn't hear anything.
2208 CE
Nevos, Teyolia System
Even after over two decades of living on Nevos, Miranda still found moments of beauty that took her breath away. She stood, transfixed, as Nevos' bright afternoon sunshine hit the surface of the river below the path. The water danced, casting up a music of its own creation. The sun, water, and surrounding lush foliage combined to create a dappled effect – constantly moving as though alive. She supposed that it was in moments like these that she was able to feel the sense of peace that eluded her all too often. She went as far as to close her eyes and tilt her face towards the sun's warmth. A smile of pleasure tugged at her lips.
"I don't need fucking sun, or fresh air!"
Miranda opened her eyes. Jack was looking back over her shoulder. As petulant as it was, Jack's complaint barely dented the sides of Miranda's good mood. She was well accustomed to it, having put up with far worse than for decades. And these days Jack being her old grumpy self was a good thing.
"Well forgive me for being selfish but this is for my benefit, not yours. It's a glorious Saturday afternoon and I need fresh air, sunlight and the pleasure of your company."
It was the truth. Miranda usually viewed Saturday simply as an extension of the working week, but she was implementing changes in her life of late – starting with spending more time with Jack. She resumed pushing the chair. It required little effort on her part - the chair ran smoothly and Jack weighed next to nothing.
"Too damn bright," Jack muttered, even though she was wearing dark-tinted shades. "And I don't see why you have to push me like I'm a cripple."
The sullen comment contained the bitter truth that Jack's motor controls had deteriorated to the point where even the simple touch needed to guide the grav chair was beyond her. Jack's last measure of freedom, stripped away. Miranda couldn't think of a reply that wasn't patronising, so she opted for silence.
There was nothing except the water and the gentle crunch of her footsteps on the path. Random thoughts entered her head. Some were pressing – concerns about work that she tried her best to dismiss. She hadn't spoken to Oriana in over a week. The lack of contact was unheard of for them. Even when Miranda was at her busiest, she always made time to speak to her sister. Now she'd ignored one call and blown off another with a poor excuse, simply because she knew Oriana would want an update on her love life.
Which I fucked up, Miranda thought, momentarily losing her good mood. She thought it best to remind herself that there had been no other outcome, not in the long-term. It would have been nice for a few months, maybe even a year, but eventually obligations would have driven her and Nea apart. Still, the lost potential of those months or years with the stunning asari made her uncharacteristically maudlin. And it was an unwelcome reminder of much older regrets. At this rate, I'm going to take nothing but a mountain of regrets to my grave.
Mercifully the view around the next corner took both her maudlin thoughts and her breath away. She'd seen the same view many times over the years – it was just one of Nevos' many lakes – but today the sun caught the water in such a way that made it seem alive. Miranda was forced to shade her eyes with her hand as she stared out across the water. The cluster of habitats on the far side added to the effect, their glass exteriors seemed to be an extension of the lake. Miranda asked herself why the hell she'd brought an apartment in the middle of one of Nevos' few cities, when she could have had her pick of lakefront properties.
Even Jack seemed to be caught up in excitement of the moment. "Let's get our kit off and go for a swim."
Miranda's first instinct was to laugh, until she looked down at the earnest expression on Jack's face and realised that the suggestion had been serious. "There are a hundred reasons why that won't be happening."
"Again with the fucking cripple bullshit! I get it. I can't do anything except sit in a chair, lie in a bed or have my ass wiped for me." Jack folded her stick-like arms across her chest. "Just fucking shoot me already."
"Hey." Miranda moved quickly to kneel in front of Jack. "I meant there are a hundred reasons why I'm not going to get naked. I'm not like you, Jack. I'm too hung up on what people think. I know you'd be in that lake without hesitation.
Jack managed a grin. "Damn straight I would. Anyway, what are you afraid of? Said you wanted more fresh air and sunlight. And your tits are probably still perfect."
As soon as heat flooded her cheeks, Miranda realised that she was actually contemplating giving into Jack's request. The afternoon was warm enough that she didn't need to worry about Jack's health. And Nevos was an asari world, no one would bat an eye over a state of undress.
"Fine. But we're going off the path and I'm leaving my underwear on."
"Prude!" Jack muttered happily
Jack's animation continued, chatting without needing a response as Miranda found a secluded spot which would offer some privacy. She had to acknowledge that giving into Jack had been the best decision she'd made in months. It also provided a welcome distraction as she stripped down to her underwear.
"You can leave mine on too," Jack suggested as she watched Miranda undress.
Further explanation went unspoken – whether Jack thought it might make Miranda more comfortable or if she was ashamed of her own body.
"You wanted to get your kit off," Miranda offered, suspecting that it was the former.
"Why the hell not. Don't give a shit about scaring the locals."
Despite the afternoon's warmth, there was a slight chill to the water as Miranda waded in. There was no need to flare to carry Jack the short distance, especially as the water soon took over most of the work. Jack let out a slight hiss at the cold, but it was followed with a burst of laughter as Miranda let her go save for an arm beneath her back.
Seeing the expression on Jack's face, Miranda didn't know how she could have ever thought to deny this simple pleasure. Jack no longer felt the need to fill the silence. Instead she floated on her back, staring up at the sky with a serene expression on her face. Miranda couldn't switch off to such an extent, but it hardly mattered. She was content.
"Thank you, Jack."
Jack cocked one eye open. "For what?"
"Getting me out of my comfort zone."
Jack grinned and closed her eye again. "It's nothing, Cheerleader. Been doing it for twenty-five years."
Zephyr Coast, Thessia
An indescribable feeling of relief passed over her entire body. For a ridiculous moment Liara fought to maintain her composed façade, before she reminded herself that her contact could only see her as a faceless avatar. Thank the goddess. The thought entered her head as she finally let the weight disappear from her shoulders. She let everything go out of sheer exhaustion. But for her grip on the edge of her console, she would have fallen to the floor.
{Are you still there, Shadow Broker?}
Liara brought her attention back to the present, back to the weary but earnest face of the asari on the monitor. "I am still here."
The feed also rendered her voice unrecognisable. Necessary features to protect her identify – even from trusted agents like Tasha Kurin. The asari on screen was still a young maiden, barely older than Liara herself. Two decades earlier, Kurin had been a commando disillusioned with the speed at which asari politics moved in the wake of the Reaper War. Liara had secured Kurin's loyalty and invested a considerable amount of resources in training over the years. The ex-commando was now one of her best, and most loyal, agents.
"You have done well, Agent Kurin." It was at times like these that Liara wished their contact wasn't so impersonal. "Many innocent lives would have been lost if either Fleet had decided to attack."
{As determined as she is, Bancroft never desired an engagement. It was only a matter of finding a solution that did not compromise her position or her reputation,} Kurin explained modestly. {Her people are sick. She was desperate.}
"Suffice to say, that fact doesn't justify her actions."
Liara studied Kurin's face closely. The agent was exhausted. Kurin clearly needed to be pulled out of action. Liara bowed her head for a moment. Regardless of her personal feelings, losing her one route to Bancroft wasn't an option. With the potential for the Reaper problem to escalate, Liara couldn't afford the situation with Bancroft to escalate again.
{What are your orders, Shadow Broker?}
"Remain with Bancroft's fleet. Do everything in your power to ensure that the renegotiated transaction goes smoothly. Beyond that, I want Bancroft away from Council space."
Kurin laughed bitterly. {Fucking her makes her listen to me, but it doesn't give me any sort of control over her. Francesca does what she wants, when she wants.} The young asari paused guiltily. {My apologies, Broker, I didn't intend to speak so bluntly, it's just that it's been five months. I thought I'd be out within one.}
Goddess, I know, Liara thought. A quarter of a century being the Broker and this part of her job had never become any easier. "You signed up to do a job, Agent Kurin, you'll remain at your post until you're relieved. Is that understood?"
{Absolutely.} Kurin's professional mask snapped back into place. {Until our next scheduled communication.}
The feed was abruptly gone and Liara was left staring at a blank screen. Kurin's tired face lingered in her memory before it was banished by the simple acknowledgement that the job had been done. For the timebeing at least, Bancroft was no longer a problem.
Liara's attention drifted to the window. It was a beautiful afternoon. She stepped back from the console, staring for a moment at the monitors which had held her enslaved for too many years. It took her a moment to realise that the emotion that surged through her body was loathing. The sudden urge to flare rose up in the pit of her stomach, accompanied by a vision of slamming a wave of dark energy into the foul construct.
It soon disappeared, banished by reminding herself that throughout her years as the Shadow Broker, she had avoided numerous conflicts and saved a myriad of lives across the Galaxy.
Surely her own sacrifices were a small price to pay?
Liara did not answer that question for herself, nor did she return to work. Instead she made her way out into the garden, knowing that the weather would lure her children outside to play.
The breeze ensured that the sound of laughter reached her first, before she could see her family. The excited, almost shrill, sounds her daughters made were punctuated by Ash's lower, but no less carefree, tones. Liara couldn't recall the last time that such sounds had been reserved for her. It was a painful realisation, especially as she wondered whether she had forgotten how to laugh. As Ash started counting, Alice and Theda took off at a sprint across the lawn.
Ever the marine, Liara knew that Ashley would be alerted to her approach. Ash glanced briefly over her shoulder, but did not pause in the game, continuing to count steadily as the two girls disappeared into the trees in search of a hiding place.
"Ashley."
Liara savoured the name, in a way she hadn't for a long time, drinking in the sight of her bondmate as she turned around. Ashley was dressed simply, hair loose over her shoulders. The unexpected surge of desire that accompanied the sight brought a warm flush to her cheeks. It had been far too long since Liara had felt Ash's arms wrapped around her naked body. You're getting ahead of yourself, T'Soni. The counting stopped.
"Hey." Although Ashley managed a tight-lipped smile, her tone was distinctly frosty. "I'm a little surprised to see you outside during daylight hours."
The warm feeling was extinguished in an instant. "I suppose I deserve that."
Ash folded her arms across her chest in a gesture that looked suspiciously like a defence mechanism. "I'm not going to let you play the martyr, Liara. I'm busy. What do you want?"
What do you want? Spoken as though Liara was an unwelcome business associate. She had to fight back her disappointment as she replied simply, "It's over."
Ash's reaction was instantaneous – her eyes widened. "Bancroft? The stalemate with Asari High Command?"
Liara nodded, relieved that at least they could still share moments of triumph. She felt encouraged to walk towards her bondmate.
"How? Wait. You had Kurin on this one?" Ash shook her head in disbelief. "First that powderkeg that Wreav created on Tuchanka last year, now this. How the hell does she do it?"
"Perhaps by being infinitely more patient than you and I," Liara suggested pointedly.
Ash actually smirked in reply. "It's not my strong suit. Hence why I'm the muscle, not an undercover operative."
"You are far more than just the muscle, especially to me."
When Ash's smirk disappeared abruptly, Liara wondered if their relationship truly had reached breaking point. Any apology she could offer would be too little, too late – possibly even years too late. Then Ashley's body language changed – uncrossing her arms, she turned to fully face Liara. Defences down.
Liara's lips parted hopefully. With trembling fingers, she reached up to cup Ash's jaw. Neither said a word. Instead they stared, as though reacquainting themselves with one another. When Ash's brow furrowed slightly, Liara instinctively knew that it was a response to the dark circles beneath her eyes and the hollow cast to her cheeks. Her work had taken precedence over everything. Apologising and promising to change wouldn't be enough. She needed to be able to act.
Why do I have to keep paying the price? Suddenly the path ahead was clear.
"Ash…the process won't be a simple one, but I plan to start handing over control of the Broker Network. I am sorry that it has taken me so many years to realise that it is not the most important part of my life. I have missed out on too much…and I have become someone I no longer recognise."
Ash's throat worked visibly. "You'd give up being the Shadow Broker?"
"I…yes."
It was difficult to force the word out. Even with the acceptance that being the Broker had taken over her life, she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of relinquishing power. Gripped by the fierce need to feel her bondmate's arms around her, Liara stepped forward into the space between them. She almost sobbed when Ash responded without hesitation, finding herself ensconced in a pair of loving, protective arms. The fear of giving up the Network receded for the moment. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the fabric of Ash's shirt. When she felt gentle fingertips against her crest, her entire body shivered in response.
"We've missed you," Ash whispered. She drew back, far enough to look Liara in the eyes. Her own eyes were shining with unshed tears. "And I was scared…that our daughters would be left alone when I die."
Liara urgently reached up to clasp Ash's face between her hands. "No! Never." If she were being absolutely honest with herself, she was devastated that Ash had even considered that thought. However she had only herself to blame. "You, Alice and Theda – our family means the Galaxy to me."
It was the first time that Ash had mentioned her own life span for some time. Something that had been brought up a great deal when their relationship was new, it had since been confined to the back of their minds, not to be addressed for hopefully many years. However, although her bondmate never gave voice to such fears, Liara suspected that it was often on Ash's mind. Several times she had caught Ash staring at Alice and Theda with a pained expression on her face. Unfortunately it was their reality.
"Yuck! Are you guys kissing?" Alice's loud, indignant question startled them both. Their daughter practically stomped across the lawn towards them. "Dad, you're supposed to be looking for us!"
As outspoken as she was, Alice left a healthy amount of distance between herself and her parents. The disgust on her face was tempered by an obvious caution. Liara prised herself out of Ash's arms. However, as she walked towards her daughter, Alice took a small, almost instinctive, step backwards. For Liara, the reaction was akin to a physical blow. Her own steps faltered for a moment, but she forced herself to fix a smile on her face and continue walking.
"I am sorry to interrupt your game, Alice, but I wanted to speak to you."
The cautious expression became slightly defensive. "I haven't done anything wrong."
Liara's smile slipped. "Oh no. That is not...why would you think that?"
Alice's gaze suddenly darted back to her father, as though doubting whether she should continue to speak. "You only speak to me when I've done something wrong."
Liara knelt on the grass, bringing herself down to Alice's eye level. It was difficult not to feel a sense of anguish as she stared at her daughter. She'd missed so much. "Your father told me you flared for the first time."
Alice nodded warily. "Yes, mother."
"And that you were extremely brave," Liara continued.
Alice nodded again, although her expression relaxed slightly and she stood up a little straighter. "It was pretty scary. Only for the first time though, I won't be scared again."
"Sometimes it is good to be scared. It keeps us safe," Liara said quietly. And I would do anything to keep you and your sister safe.
"Dad said I was getting a new tutor, just for biotics. Do you know when I'll get to meet her?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. You are looking at her right this moment."
Alice's eyes widened. "You're going to tutor me?"
"I am." Liara sounded more confident that she felt. She didn't know how she would respond if Alice rejected the suggestion.
The tension lasted all of a moment. The wary expression disappeared from Alice's face, followed by an enthusiastic nod. Liara almost let her shoulders sag in relief at the acceptance. She tilted her head to one side with a playful smile on her face. "Unless of course you want me to find you another tutor, one who isn't your mother?"
"No way! You fought with The Shepard in the War against the Reapers – against cannibals and brutes and banshees." Alice punched the air. "My friends are going to be so jealous. They already think you're a big hero."
"They do? You never told me that."
Alice shrugged. "You didn't ask."
The moment passed quickly as Alice turned her attention to her father. "Dad! Did you hear? I'm going to be the best at biotics – probably even good enough to be a commando!"
"Yeah I heard, monkey. Let's hold off on the commando part for a while though." Ash reached out and laid her hand atop Alice's crest, although her gaze was directed towards Liara. "You're right about one thing though – learning from your Mum will definitely make you one of the best."
Alice beamed. "I need to tell Theda."
Liara's gaze followed Alice's wild dash into the garden, listening to the accompanying yelling at the top of her lungs for Theda to come out of hiding. Eventually she rose to her feet and turned back to Ashley. Her bondmate regarded her with a serious expression.
"Are you sure you can promise her this?" Ash asked carefully.
"I know what you are thinking," Liara was unperturbed by the doubt. "And I know that I cannot become the perfect mother in one day, but this is one thing I can do…if Athame has blessed me with more patience than my own mother, or even if she has not, I will be here for our daughters."
Oma Ker, Aethon Cluster
The Turian colony of Oma Ker had been hit hard during the Reaper War and, even over two decades later, the scars still showed. The landscape was pitted with blast craters that had never been filled. The colonists had simply built around them – simple utilitarian structures lacking ornamentation or any real sense of permanence. The whole place served to remind Sam that barely any time had passed. That the memories of War were still contained within recent memory. However, over time it would fade. Within a century, those amongst the shorter lived species who lived through the War would be dead. Eventually, the War would only be a memory for the very oldest of asari and krogan before becoming something else. Myths and stories.
Sam was grateful she'd had the foresight to suit up. It had been bitterly cold from the moment she stepped out of the Kodiak. Her cheeks now felt frozen and raw.
"Not exactly the prettiest spot in the Galaxy," James Vega said as he joined her. "Although the view is kind of interesting."
Sam had been purposefully avoiding looked directly at the massive hulk that dominated the landscape below her. It was next to impossible. Like a god fallen to earth, the Reaper lay on its side. In falling, it had wiped out over half of the settlement – buildings crushed beneath its bulk. Sam watched as Vega made his way further down the hill, moving cautiously but purposefully, rifle balanced in his arms.
"Dios."
His quiet exclamation carried back to Sam. "What have you got?"
When she took a few steps forward, she answered the question for herself. There were two bodies, heads pointing down the slope. Even in death, the Turians looked as though they were locked together in an embrace.
Vega knelt to examine them, having no hesitation in prodding the two apart. "Huh." He looked back to Sam. "Looks as though they gave each other fatal stab wounds. Fits the pattern of events at the other sites."
"Yes. It does."
Sam murmured the words for her own ears. She felt a painful knot in the pit of her stomach. She'd spent her post-war career convincing the Galaxy that the Reapers could be trusted, that they no longer posed a threat. That was no longer the case. It was a fact that some were regressing to a violent, unstable state. The question was how many. A dozen? Hundreds? Or was it endemic throughout their entire race? The worst case scenario was that whatever had held the Reapers in check, was failing and they were witnessing the beginning of the second Reaper War. Sam desperately hoped that wasn't the case. A second time around, she knew that the Galaxy would lose.
"I guess not everyone made it out in time," Sam commented, trying to take her mind off other thoughts.
"Some didn't want to leave." A familiar voice replied on her behalf. "The young mostly. They wouldn't believe that the Reapers were dangerous."
She turned around, responded with an automatic smile as she watched Garrus Vakarian walk towards her. The passage of time had barely had any effect on his scarred face. He'd long since traded in his old blue armour however, wearing instead an unadorned suit that had been left in its matt grey factory finish. Without even trying, he cultivated the perfect image of the grizzled war veteran - something Sam knew he worked hard to avoid.
"Hello, Garrus."
"Samantha Traynor." A genial chuckle followed. "My apologies, Admiral Traynor. Ma'am."
"Oh stow it, you son of a bitch," Sam muttered as she stepped in for a fierce hug. She remained there for a long, unapologetic moment, not caring that her cheek felt as though it was freezing to his armour. Only a sense of keeping up appearances drove her to pull away. "And what are they calling you these day, Garrus? General? The real power behind the Primarch?"
Garrus shook his head, accompanied by another quiet laugh. "You know I've never put much stock in formalities, Sam. I always get worried when people start calling me General, then I know they're expecting me to have some sort of responsibility."
"I know the feeling," Sam tried to keep the weariness from her voice. "I used to think that what we did during the War put us first in line for retirement on a tropical paradise. Now I know better."
"Ah, there's something to be said for wisdom and experience, Admiral."
Sam managed a wry smile. "I was never particularly wise. Please stop calling me Admiral. It's always sounded weird when you say it."
They lapsed into silence, content to observe Vega as he and the rest of his squad moved down the hill to establish a perimeter around the Reaper. Sam's physical unease disappeared with Garrus' presence, but the concerns hammering around in her brain intensified. Oma Ker was the largest colony that the wayward Reapers had hit to date. It was only a matter of time before one of the galactic news outlets picked up the trail.
Garrus cleared his throat. "I'm still waiting for you to tell me what the hell is going on here, Sam."
"I know," was all Sam offered by way of reply immediately. She chewed her lip anxiously, something she hadn't done for a long time. She turned to face her old friend. Despite the situation, Garrus' expression was as composed as ever. She couldn't remember a time when she'd seen him fazed by something. He was precisely the sort of person she needed at her side during a crisis. "How do you feel about a secondment?"
"To your team? I don't know. Are Reapers going to continue falling out of the sky?"
Sam almost smirked. Although it sounded ludicrous, it was very much the truth. "Quite possibly. And worse. Far worse if one of these incidents happens without warning on a heavily populated colony."
"Well, where do I sign up then?"
"Thanks, Garrus," Sam said with genuine feeling. She was buoyed by a sudden feeling of reassurance and confidence with the knowledge that the Turian veteran would be joining them. It even improved her present mood. "Between you, myself and Vega, it will almost be a reunion of sorts."
"Almost," Garrus replied quietly.
Sam suddenly regretted saying anything. It had been a poorly thought out comment – especially to Garrus. As she watched him out of the corner of her eye, his facial expression betrayed nothing and certainly no hint of his decades old loss. She searched for something to say to bring their conversation back to business.
"Do you hear from anyone else?" Garrus suddenly asked, a hint of expectation in his voice. "I still spend a week every year with Wrex and Grunt on Tuchanka - supposedly klixen hunting, but mostly just drinking too much ryncol. I thought Liara might be in touch more often, but I guess after everything that happened, she and Ashley are content to remain out of it all."
"Oh...um, I saw Ash a few weeks ago, on Aite. She and her team had been caught up in the previous incident. I asked for her help. Suffice to say, she wasn't willing to give it."
"Shame. I have a feeling...well, with this-" Garrus nodded towards the Reaper "-I have a feeling that we're going to need as many people as possible on this one. Good people. And muscle."
"You're not wrong. Who would you suggest?"
"Well, Liara and Ashley would have been my first picks, but Jack for one."
"You really have been out of the loop haven't you. Jack's not in good health."
"You've been in touch?"
Sam shook her head. "Only indirectly. Through Oriana Lawson. And not for a couple of years. Oriana and I could never do the whole friendship thing like normal people. Not after we broke up.."
It was a topic that hadn't come up for some time. Not because there were any bad memories associated with the short-lived romance, but for the simple fact that there were few people in Sam's life that remembered it. The memories were good, brilliant even. However it was the age old story of two people being at completely different points in their lives. Sam's decision to seriously pursue a lifetime career in the military had conflicted with Oriana's simple desire to settle down into family life.
"The last time we spoke, Oriana told me Jack was dying."
"Shit," Garrus murmured.
Sam bit her lip. "I don't really know her, I never did. Not beyond being terrified of her. I guess I should have-"
Anything she was about to say died abruptly on her lips as the purportedly inactive Reaper suddenly reared up. Sam's subsequent shout to Vega and his team to get back were drowned out by a hideous sound. All she could do was stare in horror as the blinding red light at its core came to life, pulsing at first, before steadily intensifying. Tendrils of energy whipped across the Reaper's carapace as it rose up onto its front legs. Despite the brilliance of the light, Sam was unable to look away. Somewhere at the back of her mind she was aware of Garrus yelling at her, but until he started dragging her away she was rooted to the spot.
The moment was unlike anything she'd experienced during the War, but it was enough to bring back the violence and gut-wrenching panic of that time in one split second. As the Reaper's energy reached a crescendo, filling the air around them with an all-encompassing buzz, Sam was certain that everything was about to end.
Who would have thought, Sam was thinking with a startling clarity. All these years later and I still end up fried.
The moment was such that it took Sam several long moments to realise that, just as abruptly as it had appeared, the light disappeared. With an earth-shaking thud that knocked Sam from her feet, the Reaper's legs buckled beneath its weight and it crashed back to the ground.
"Ground team, report in!"
Vega's shout over the comm channel brought Sam back to her senses. She was still hearing a loud buzz and seeing bright red spots as she realised Garrus was standing over her with his hand outstretched. As she accepted the hand up, Sam brushed aside the last of her haze to bring her focus back to the present. Her first thought was to order the Gallipoli and the Turian destroyer accompanying it to open up with their full arsenal, pounding the thing into the dust.
That order didn't make it past her lips, not as she stood staring at the Reaper, watching as the red light at its core pulsed weakly. It twitched, but did not rise again.
A batshit crazy idea was forming in Sam's head.
"Admiral, we're all accounted for down here. We're falling back now. Just give me the order to light this thing up for an orbital strike."
Sam watched the tiny figures of Vega and his team move across the terrain below. "That's a negative, Major. Continue falling back, establish a perimeter two clicks out."
"Ma'am, that thing is still active. We need to-"
"I know it's still active, Vega," Sam interrupted. The batshit idea had well and truly taken hold, to the point where she started moving down the hill. "I want it to stay that way. At least long enough for me to ask it what the hell is going on."
"You're going to talk to it?" It was Garrus this time, as he scrambled down the hill after her.
She shrugged away from his grip on her arm, turning back to give him a hard stare. "You're on my team now so you'll follow my orders, Vakarian. Fall back. If it even starts to smell like a threat, I want you to order an orbital bombardment."
Garrus shook his head. "You won't have enough time to get clear."
"Sure I will," Sam replied, buoyed by a sudden confidence. She focused back on the Reaper and squared her shoulders before marching forward. "We need answers and, one way or another, I'm going to get them."
