2187 Ubtao - Citadel cruiser Khar'Shan

Sachiko could see every fleck of color on Samara's eyes with enormous, unreal clarity. They filled her mind entirely, relaxed, unwavering, calm on their disposition. The stance of their owner was equally tranquil, so solid-looking that it seemed no amount of force could bring her down.

Without warning and without motion, the Phantom's body was ablaze with tendrils of bluish energy as she loosed a single shockwave against her opponent - a shockwave that coalesced right on the asari's forehead.

The wave of force went past the Justicar. She had moved. Now she stood with both feet aligned with Sachiko, left arm outstretched, two fingers almost casually pointed at her.

Tanaka did not allow herself the moment of surprise. An assault as perfect as any human biotic could manage had been completely ineffective. Somehow Samara had cut cleanly through her shockwave. Now her riposte would come.

She suppressed the urge to somersault out of the way when energy flared on Samara's eyes. The air in front of her changed and buzzed as a swirling orb of coruscating blackness materialized. A decoy. She had her barriers up. A singularity could not affect her. A small fraction of her mind worked to divine the next assault while the rest was focused into trying to read something on her opponent.

An almost invisible flick of Samara's wrist and now Sachiko felt a tingling on her lower legs. Instantly she put up a reinforced barrier, recognizing the attack for what it was - the prothean's infamous technique, a constant channeling of encroaching energies to slowly eat up through her defenses. Again Samara flared - this time Tanaka glimpsed a foot taking a brief step backwards-

The asari's fist aimed for Sachiko's stomach as the full strength of the charge hit her. The Phantom's barrier almost collapsed under the brutal assault, but not before allowing her to jump aside, roll on the floor and stand back up right before another attack almost hit her, this time a swirling blob of energy. A warping sphere of her own met it in midair causing it to harmlessly explode.

Samara nodded in approval. She had not even broken up a sweat, whereas Sachiko's heart was racing. "Nicely done," the Justicar congratulated her.

The Cerberus veteran knew the commendation was well merited, even if she herself felt as if she was again in the Academy as a fresh recruit pitted against the head biotics instructor. "I barely managed to stop it all, ma'am."

"You did stop it."

Tanaka nodded. "An improvement since our meeting, I agree."

In unison they started walking towards the dressing room. "You learn very fast."

A shrug. "I have to." She felt the urge to ask: "Ma'am, are Justicar training regimes like this?"

"They were much harder."

"'Were'?"

"Not many of my Order survived the Reaper War."

Since being introduced to each other four days hence, their training sessions had been lengthy exercises with scarce comments spoken, if at all. Initially their bouts had been horribly lopsided - Samara was as skilled and powerful as centuries of training and experience could make her. Sachiko had gotten better then, though she harbored no illusions about becoming a match for her. Even so, a mutual respect was developing - and today's small success made the Phantom feel confident enough to break the ice.

"I believed Justicars confined themselves to asari space."

"Once the training of my novices is complete, they will return."

Her novices? "You mean the other asari that were on Gamma team."

"And a few others."

"And you won't be returning?"

"I will find another cadre of novices to train."

They entered the dressing room. Sachiko scrupulously took off her training armor and secured it into its locker. She turned her head to see Samara pulling herself out of her skin-tight practice fatigues. The centuries of fighting were etched on the asari as if some mad demons had embroidered them on her skin with metal claws. "Ma'am... I hope not to intrude by asking, but why keep the scars?"

"It's a part of our Code. Scars mark both a failure and a success. The failing was not to evade the assault, the success was to survive it. Failures and mistakes beget wisdom and knowledge. To remove the scars is to forget."

"But sometimes you can earn a scar because of something beyond your control..."

"Cures for hubris. There always are things beyond your control."

Sachiko allowed herself a closer look now, noting each scar and guessing at their origins. She realized that aside large burns around her left shoulder blade and on her waist, Samara had sustained injuries neither on her back nor on her face. Her respect for the asari increased.

"How do you know my commander?"

"We served under Shepard on the Omega 4 mission to destroy the Collectors."

Tanaka froze briefly. "I heard rumors of that... the Cerberus leader was furious because of the destruction of the Collector base..."

The Justicar did not stop folding her uniform. Even that simple task was done so mechanistically as to resemble a ritual. "A good thing that we did destroy it. The evils at work there challenged imagination."


Sachiko stood in front of the door. At once a projector spawned the holographic avatar of a VI. "Please state your name and business."

"Ensign Sachiko Tanaka, to visit miss Lawson."

"Stand by." The VI remained still for exactly eleven seconds before the door opened: "Please come in."

Miranda was not alone. There was an asari there -not Samara, she did not ring a bell- and... "Ensign, welcome," her commander welcomed her. "Meet Liara T'Soni and Captain Shepard."

Tanaka was dumbstruck. Immediately she drew herself to attention. "It's-it's an honor." Actually it was more than that. She could not bear to look at the legendary N7 in the eyes. Shepard had destroyed the Reapers, saved the galaxy... and defeated the Illusive Man. The man that had recruited her, the man for whom she had kidnapped, killed, blown up buildings and ships... her sins, her guilt only grew heavier in light of Shepard's deeds.

Unexpectedly Shepard smiled. "Ensign. Relax. It's alright." The key part of the message was left unsaid: I understand. I bear you no grudges.

If they had been alone, Sachiko would have burst into tears. Through sheer force of will she managed to hold them back. "If-if I'm-I'm interrupting-"

"I'd have asked you to return later," Miranda said simply. "How did you like Samara?"

The Phantom cleared her throat. "She's... exceptional. I wouldn't want to be on her bad side." She waited for comments, but the three people looked at her expectantly. She continued: "Ma'am, why did you, er, send her to me?"

"Really?" A small smirk crept into Miranda's lips. "To help you blow off some steam, and to help her find suitable training partners for her novices." Then her face turned serious. "People on both the Alliance and on the Citadel is giving the cold shoulder to the Hades crews. I want to change that. In two months time you'll be fighting Samara and her initiates on equal terms. Only a few N7s can. I want the word to get out when that happens."

Sachiko beamed with pride. She smiled broadly. "I won't let you down, ma'am."

"Correction: you won't let yourself and your fellows down. If they aren't going to like you, then we'll get them to respect you."

The Phantom glanced at Shepard and T'Soni. "There is another reason for letting me in with those guests, right?"

Liara smiled. "You're fast, ensign. There is, but you'll know soon enough."

A nod. "I'll take that." She looked questioningly at Miranda.

"That will be all, ensign," the former Cerberus officer dismissed her. "You may leave now."

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am." She snapped a salute and left.

"Having you present was a great idea," Miranda said to Shepard.

"Yes. I won't get them far, I'm afraid... You and I can understand her. But almost no one else has our perspective."

Liara considered the words of her spouse. She, too, had a certain measure of that perspective. The Illusive Man had built a cocoon around Shepard by giving the N7 a ship closely resembling the original Normandy, carefully picking a certain crew, and sending them on missions that reinforced Cerberus' image of an agency that really held the interests of humanity at heart; the worst excesses of Cerberus had only been revealed during the Reaper War, and public opinion was familiar with those. "You certainly have your work cut out for you, Miranda."

"I have to try."

The asari looked warmly at her. "You feel guilty."

"Because I got away with everything! Being Shepard's-" She stopped abruptly.

"Being Shepard's couple protected you," Liara completed, her voice soothing.

An uncomfortable silence followed. "Um, yes. That."

The situation was horribly awkward. The asari defused it: "If you'll excuse me, I have some lab work pending. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Miranda was stunned for an instant. "Alright, Liara, we'll meet you for supper," Shepard acknowledged.

After a quick kiss on her spouse's lips and a friendly smile at Miranda, Liara left. Lawson interrogated the N7 with knotted brow and intrigued eyes.

The words did not come easily. "Liara and I... had a talk. She says... it's... fine... if we're together."

The girl dropped her mouth and bent slightly forward, even more confused. "But... the two of you... what's going to happen? And what about Alina?"

Shepard sat. The N7's face was serious, eyes somewhat gloomy. "She said... she knows I'm not going to be around forever. And she knows that you... love me. And that I love you both."

Miranda saw the struggle and took seat in the opposite chair. She tried to look at Shepard in the eyes and failed. "Shepard, I'm sorry, I... I didn't want you to get to think of that because of me."

A slow headshake. "You have nothing to apologize for. You'll understand better if... no, when she melds with you."

"You don't mean..."

"Yes, I do mean. Simple words aren't going to cut it here." Shepard paused briefly. It had been a poor attempt at soothing her. "Liara knows your... feelings are sincere. That's why she asked you for help with Alina. She knows... she knows you-"

"Please. Don't." Tears were streaming down Miranda's cheeks. Shepard could not bear the sight and embraced her. Sobs racked her. "It's... so generous of her," she managed to say with a broken voice.

"Shush... easy, easy there... If it eases your mind, I'll tell you that it wasn't easy for Liara to come to that decision."

Miranda did not let go. "So she said that it's okay, but it's not." She felt Shepard tense and regretted the words on the spot. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's... complicated, all of this."

She managed to laugh through her tears. "You could say."

Shepard eased away gently and looked at her in the eye. "Tell you what... why don't we try to make this work for all three of us instead of dwelling on how hard it's going to be."

Her lips curved into a brittle, hesitant smile. "I guess... I should go and talk to Liara then..."


Victory SR1

"Captain Javik," Maturin alerted his commander. "Another assault is starting."

For days they had followed the armies on the surface of the planet maneuver, probe and hammer at each other, to no avail. The three opponents were too closely matched. They had once watched how two of them had seemed to time their assaults to simultaneously strike at the third -and, at the time, the strongest- faction; the maneuver had been beaten off, but at a considerable cost.

"How long do you think this has been going?" Hark asked.

"Those complexes did not appear overnight," Orbak responded.

"They have very efficient construction technology." Maturin had watched a few specialized vehicles erect a radar post on the outer reaches of one complex in a matter of hours.

Hark noted, "I have yet to see some form of organic life down there." They had catalogued almost a hundred variants of tanks, rovers, aircraft and gunboats, but not a single living creature. "Not even something I could identify as a figure in powered armor."

"Probably there isn't anyone alive down there." Javik was studying the pict-captures. "I would hazard those forces are entirely synthetic."

Out of reflex he checked the ladar feeds. The three starships had kept their original positions in geosynchronous orbit. Maturin had conjectured that these were the actual command centers for each of the armies on the surface. Were that the case, then a simple jamming would leave an entire force left to their own protocols, with no exterior input to lead it. Again his mind pondered at the rules governing the conflict...

"Have you learned anything new on their communications?" He asked of his salarian officer.

"Apologies, sir, but nothing new so far. I'm positively sure we're just not within range to pick up anything." And they were not going to jeopardize their stealth to gamble for eavesdroppings, Maturin knew it.

Javik grunted in acknowledgement. So far it appeared they had not been picked up, but the continuous surveillance had turned up nothing really meaningful. They had learned a lot on the hardware used by the parties contesting the planet. When it had been the protheans' job to arbitrate such conflicts, they had imposed substandard technology, extremely limited firepower and very precise goals on the participants. All logical constraints - the idea was that the winner would eventually colonize the contested world, a pointless endeavour if the planet was charred to a crisp.

Those same constraints, Javik was seeing on the struggle taking place on the planet's surface. Had the protheans themselves picked up that policy from the Inusannon? Given that the precursors to his own race had escaped to this galaxy, that was not an unlikely possibility.

Nothing of it was useful for learning more about the actual people somewhere in the stars that had sponsored the participants. Boring and tedious as it was, they could not close in to listen for tightbeam transmissions, if there were any taking place, and so risk detection. "Continue your observations," he instructed. His bridge crew acknowledged the command and saluted as the prothean walked down a corridor and entered the elevator that took him to his quarters.

Mere minutes seemed to have passed after Javik had laid down to rest when the communicator on his omni-tool flashed. He tapped it: "What is it?"

"Captain Javik, sir, we have a new contact on ladar," his asari yeoman informed with an apologetic tone on her voice.

"I'll be there shortly." A scarce minute later he was back on the bridge. The large hologram projector was already displaying the newly arrived... ship.

Maturin, Hark, Orbak and other officers were also looking with perplexity. They were staring at something... vaguely resembling a five-pointed star in shape, its lines oddly polygonal and faceted, with seams on the sides of each polygon. Coruscating tendrils of blue energy pulsated briefly all over the vessel, to fade away slowly.

"Sir, why am I reminded of you or a biotic about to launch an attack?" The salarian communications officer pondered with some alarm in his voice.

"That, Maturin, is because that is what this thing is about to do. Give me readings on this ship!" Orbak demanded.

"Target is now designated as Reaver-1, range 41300, bearing 0-8-8... it's aiming straight for one of the other contacts, sir," an operator informed. The hologram changed to depict the ladar output.

"Change of aspect on Orbiter-2," another operator reported, using the designation of the newcomer's apparent target. "Picking up power surges... sir, Orbiter-2 is broadcasting."

"Record it all," Javik ordered immediately.

"Already on it, sir." Then: "Orbiter-2 is powering up engines... sir, Orbiter-2 just emitted a massive pulse of electromagnetic radiation."

"Scans." According to their sensors, the ship was now enveloped by a dense magnetic field.

"A magnetic deflector screen," Maturin noted.

"The Hegemony experimented on those before mass effect fields were discovered," Orbak said.

"How efficient were they?" Javik asked.

"They never went past prototyping... they had very high energy requirements."

"Somehow they have gotten them right," the prothean muttered. "We are about to see how effective they are..."

Then the unexpected took place. The seams on the starlike vessel ignited - and the ship split into dozens of small pyramid-like objects. What happened next was terrifying to behold. Each of the small triangle-shaped drones fired a stream of searing white energy, completely bypassing whatever shields Orbiter-2 had erected and stripping away all the armor and outer bulkheads in seconds. The compartments of the vessel were immediately vented into space. Assorted debris and some... six-limbed figures... were sent flying away explosively as the ship depressurized.

"Statrep!" Javik ordered, shattering the spell of muted horror. At once the holographic projector brought up a side panel detailing the operational status of the Victory. "Power up our weapons and get the GARDIAN online! Nihaya, get us to the other side of the planet at penetration speed!"

"At once, captain!" Penetration speed meant the fastest possible velocity that the Victory could manage without compromising stealth. The SR1 quickly sped away, Maturin keeping a nervous eye on the swarm that was busily dissecting Orbiter-2.

"Are they on pursuit?" Orbak inquired.

"Negative, sir. Apparently they did not pick us up."

"I'll settle for that. I wouldn't want to dare them to detect us," the batarian muttered.

"Take us to Orbiter-3," Javik ordered.

"You're going to warn them?" Orbak asked in surprise.

"Yes. We need information."

"No fighter craft we know of can mount that kind of weaponry..." Hark whispered half to himself.

"With your permission, Hark, no weapon we know of can do this." Maturin replayed the attack of the swarm. "Notice this... they did not merely pierce the armor, they literally flayed it away." It was true: when watched in slow motion, it was evident that the metal plating was not cut by the weapon. Instead, it was disassembled -apparently on the molecular level- one layer at a time, and the resulting detritus was channeled towards the attacking craft though the same beam of white energy. The end result was that entire bulkheads were disintegrated without visible leftovers.

Javik watched the replay in brooding silence, then ordered it replayed a second time, and then a third. "You're correct... this is no weapon I have ever heard of," he pronounced with a very deep voice they had seldom heard him use. "Did you record the broadcast from Orbiter-2?"

"Yes sir," Maturin reported. "I already have our cyber-warfare suit working on decrypting it, but we're going to need help to actually make some sense of the language. If the message is actually some form of spoken or written distress signal, that is."

The prothean grunted a reluctant acknowledgement. Psychometry could only get him so far without a living subject whose memories he could tap.

"Orbiter-3 just came into detection range," an operator reported. Then, a few seconds later: "Two new contacts, shuttle-sized, on atmospheric reentry vector."

Hark noted, "They've evacuated their ship... they were alerted. How?"

"Either via QEC, or they reached each other through their planetside installations," Maturin conjectured.

"If this people can agree on a limited war to settle their disputes then they probably have a means for getting in contact with each other," Orbak agreed. "Captain, do you want to investigate the ship?"

Javik tapped a command on a console to bring up the ladar feeds on the hologram projector. "Let us get closer, but not too much. They could have left their vessel primed for self-destruction." I know I would.

They approached cautiously, constantly keeping track of the ladar feeds.

"Captain Javik, sir," an operator alerted, "activity on the surface is picking up." A video feed was brought up: two large mechanized formations about to collide had stopped, then turned around to return to their bases. Aircraft were being scrambled, and on the complexes proper blast doors were opening to reveal missiles ready for launch.

"Not the best time for a social visit," Orbak quipped.

"Not at all," the prothean agreed. He had seen enough for a first recon flight. He had authority to perform first contact with unknown species, but people evidently scared enough to set their conflict aside would not be exactly on a welcoming mood. "Prepare a surveillance satellite for deployment. Then take us back to the fleet."


Tuchanka - Solus fortress

Drau Morrak entered the meeting hall with no small measure of discomfort. This spartan stronghold was the seat of power for the coalition that ruled most of the krogan homeworld. The leader, Urdnot Wrex, and a dozen of allied chieftains awaited for his report. "Minister, I hope your journey did not tire you out too much," Wrex welcomed him hoarsely, his eyes scrutinizing him warily. "What news do you have for us? How did your mission fare?"

Like most of the highborn members of his clan, Morrak had been trained for imparting justice, not for duplicity, leadership or pandering. Normally he took pride on his impartiality and integrity, but right now he wished he had picked up some of the tools of the politician's trade. The news he brought would not be good for Wrex, whom he admired, not for his ongoing efforts to civilize his kin. He had already decided to hand out the bad part first. "The Council did not provide an answer for our primary request."

The hall erupted in outrage, as he knew it would. "Bunch of pompous, lazy pyjaks!" one of the chieftains snarled.

"We fight for them, we bleed for them, we die for them, and what did we get for that?" another shouted out, a chorus of angry yeses backing him up.

"Enough yammering!" Wrex slammed the stone table with a crackling fist. A thunderous boom jolted everyone into startled silence. "We haven't heard it all, you lot of princesses! What did the Council say, exactly?"

Morrak waited a second before continuing. "The Council 'regrets not being able to rule on our petition for colonization rights at this time'." Angry murmurs started again but Drau ignored them and continued. "It's... understandable. This is the first time on Citadel history that all Council seats are appointed at the same time. Entirely new working procedures have to be instituted from scratch. The Hackett interim regency did well on restoring some of the Citadel government structure, but there is much work to be done."

"Paper-pushing wimps," a clan leader muttered.

"Those paper-pushing wimps can settle their issues without everyone putting guns to each other's heads." The whispering was cut short by Urdnot Bakara's severe voice. She wielded power unlike any krogan had ever attained. All females, regardless of clan and upbringing, were fanatically loyal to her. A word of Bakara's and entire clans could be deprived of progeny rights - and thus wither and die. "In case you missed something that's what we're trying to do here." She turned to Drau. "Minister, please carry on. What else did your visit to the Council yield?"

"Nothing concrete, Mother," the male replied respectfully using her honorific title. "Except for this: after the meeting was over I was approached by a salarian Spectre. His name is Jondum Bau." Wrex's eyes glittered with recognition but he added nothing. "He whispered to me that the Council will soon be issuing invitations for new Embassies to be opened. The batarians will be asked to rejoin the Citadel, along with the quarians and ourselves."

A small smile crept on the Urdnot chieftain's mouth. "It's a start," he conceded.

"What about the demilitarization act? Will it be lifted?" Another clan leader demanded.

"Bau did not mention it. To be honest, I did not ask him on the matter," Drau admitted. "Petitioning for the act to be repealed would send the wrong message."

"'Wrong message?'" The chieftain was indignant. "Wrong message. Pirates prey on the merchants that alleviate our food shortfall, prices are on the damn clouds, and all we can do about it is complaining to the CDEM. Tell me what you think about your 'wrong message' now!"

"Forsan, we've been through this already," Wrex exhaled tiredly.

"Council forces have just been patrolling the trade routes for less than a standard week. Prices should drop before next month," Drau noted.

Forsan Quth insisted, "I say again that this would not happen if we had authority to police our own space."

"I agree," Bakara said stonily. "That is a right we forfeited and that we must regain. Save your hot-blooded words for the varren fights, chieftain." The Forsan leader glowered at her but did not respond.

"You were right about timing," Wrex told Drau, "but you did right." He turned again towards the dozen clan leaders. "Speaking of food: I want to hear how have you fared with the hydroponics initiative." His stare turned relentless.

The Ravanok cheiftain was the first to speak. "My clan has had some successes. That quarian tech likes closed environments, and we have kilometers of vacant shafts in our mines. But transplanting the saplings on the surface is another whole matter. We've killed two varren and a harvester for each one that has taken root. And then there's the thresher maws..." The Urdnot leader mentally half-closed his ears to the speech. He knew what each clan had been doing on that matter; what he actually had wanted to know was who had taken to the task seriously. Most had either miserably failed at making some use of the agricultural technology Tali'Zorah had shared with them or not worked on it at all. The Ravanok, Nakmor and Drau clans had fared somewhat better.

"I want you sending people over to the other clans to help them out," he ordered the chieftains of those three tribes. Then he looked at the others. His voice turned colder than a night outside the shelters. "I'd better see some fresh produce from each of you within the next two months. And pray that I don't hear again of raiding each other's crops or I'll feed you to Kalros myself. Now, are you going to get to work, or do you plan on wasting any more time with your whimpering?"

With the meeting adjourned, Drau Morrak left the chieftains to their particular ways of socializing and went outside. However much Wrex insisted in focusing the energies of his people on reconstruction, that fortress was bristling with more weaponry and men at arms than any other hold in Tuchanka. On top of survival outside the underground bunkers being fraught with dangers, a show of force was still the best way to keep any number of krogan in line.

"How did that go?" A voice asked him.

Morrak stomped on the ground with frustration. "As expected. They all want more rights and privileges without working for them."

Ravanok Lisk probed cautiously, "Again the colonization issues?"

"Again. And the Forsan want the demilitarization act repealed." Drau believed in Wrex's cause, unlike his elders. His was a small clan that had secured its future by allying themselves with the Urdnot early on. The Mother's words had expressed his viewpoint with absolute clarity: those rights had to be earned again. "I don't see that happening. I hope I'm right. If that happens the few credits used now for researching food sources and reclaiming the wastes will dry up." How are we supposed to care for another planet if we can't heal the wounds of our home?!

Lisk took a step forward and stood side to side with the young diplomat. "They are old. This is all they know. A better place has never been this close."

"They should rot here then. We should all rot here until we learn better."