Wisdom oft is sharper than sharpest blade,
Stronger than the strongest of shining shields;
What can strike that which into shadows fade
As swiftly as water seeps into fields?

Yet for all its glorious, wondrous gifts,
Wisdom oft wounds most grievous its wielder;
What does one know when reality shifts
And their own world is torn asunder?

It appeared that Nana was in a far worse condition than any of them had thought. Between malnutrition and dangerously high levels of dehydration, she was incapable of walking. Jondum had realised this when he had tried to support her with one arm and a shoulder, only to fall over when she collapsed under her own weight.

With Lucy's rage still only barely appeased by the destruction of the base and the capture of its staff, Charon thought that perhaps carrying the girl with Lucy's vectors was ill advised. After all, something that could demolish a sealed blast door likely resistant to all but the heaviest anti-vehicle weaponry could hardly be trusted with such a delicate job. Especially when its wielder was still in a rather foul mood.

"Hello," he spoke to Nana, only for her to look at him blankly. He slapped himself, forgetting that he was speaking in turian, while the girl obviously would not have an omni-tool synced to her nervous system. Turning to Jondum, he said, "Spectre Bau, could we retrieve an omni-tool from one of the bodies outside? If I am to assist her, then I must be able to speak to her,"

"Excellent idea. I will do that now," the salarian spoke, dashing back into the corridor outside. Charon crouched down in the meantime, so as to not to tower over Nana. Taking the protein bar that Jondum had handed to him earlier, he offered it to the girl. Though military rations could hardly be described as delicious – particularly Union ones, if curious human visitors could be trusted – Nana leant forward, sniffing at the greyish-brown bar hungrily.

"Eat," he spoke, trying his best to remember how the humans of C-Sec spoke the word. It must have been at least understandable, as the girl nodded and took the food gingerly from his hands. Now that she was devouring the bar ravenously, he unscrewed the cap on the canteen and placed it on the floor in front of her. "Water, after you are finished,"

While Nana was finishing her meal, Charon looked to the centre of the room. Lucy was standing there, silently staring at the remains of Nana's bindings. There was a strange expression on her face that he had not seen before. Was it sorrow, or regret? Or perhaps a mixture of both, considering the soft sniffs that he could hear coming from her. With Jondum returning from the corridor beyond the room, however, he had to focus on the task at hand.

"Recovered one in reasonable condition. Will need decontamination later on the ship, but it works," Jondum said, holding up a blood-spattered omni-tool. Grimacing, Charon picked it up and showed it to the girl. He held up his wrist, tapped on the omni-tool, and then pointed to one on his own wrist. Then, he pointed to her hand.

Thankfully, the girl nodded and held up her arm, allowing Charon to easily attach the omni-tool. He smiled broadly and nodded back to her; at least she was far more docile than Lucy was.

"Nod if you can understand what I am saying," he spoke to her, switching back to turian. Nana smiled and nodded vigorously in response. "Good. We are going to take you out of this facility and find you some proper medical care. I take it that you cannot walk?"

"No. Nana can't walk," she replied sadly, shifting her legs weakly. "Nana hurts all over. Nana numb,"

"I had suspected as much. Very well. I will carry you out of here," Charon sighed, handing his machinegun to Jondum. Stooping over, he placed one arm behind Nana's back and another under her knees. She was so light that he had little trouble standing back up. Even walking was not terribly onerous, despite the awkward gait that he had to adopt. He did note the rather unpleasant smell that seemed to adhere to the girl, however; he would have to wash her later, if she was in this state.

"Lucy, we're done. Let's head back up," Jondum said to the other diclonius, who regarded him with a curt nod. "Actually, you go with Charon. I'll stay down here for a bit longer. I want to see what else they have been doing down here,"

"Only one survivor?" a crew member asked Charon as they ascended onto the facility's entryway. He nodded grimly, and the crew member knew not to ask any more.

The Cerberus troopers that had surrendered were all handcuffed, lined up along the wall with several armed guards watching over them. Those that had lost their arms or hands were on the landing pad itself, being treated by the ship's medical officer. Each shrank away as Lucy stormed past them, perhaps in fear of losing more limbs or their lives.

"Does it really take this long to put them on the ship?" Lucy snarled, glaring at the nearest one.

"No, ma'am. There are too many of them to be placed in the ship's brig, and we're very short on hands," replied a nearby ensign.

"If that's a problem, then I think I can solve that," she added, looking predatorily at several of them.

"Citadel Conventions prevent us from mistreating prisoners of war. We must treat those who have surrendered in a humane manner," Charon huffed, shifting Nana slightly in his arms, "In any case, we should get Nana some medical attention as soon as we can. Is the medical officer present?"

The ensign nodded and pointed at a dark blue-skinned asari on the landing pad. "Yes, lieutenant. Lieutenant T'Kalis is currently treating the wounded. She should be able to attend to your needs,"

"Thank you, ensign. Notify the helm once Spectre Bau returns. We will need to decide what to do with the prisoners,"

The asari matron on the landing pad was leaning over a prisoner, applying generous amounts of medi-gel to the stump of a severed arm. She was gently checking her patient's vitals when she noticed that he was whimpering in abject fear; and if her nose was correct, he had voided his bowels. Looking up, she came face-to-face with a pink-haired human – the one that the others called Lucy – and a turian male, who was carrying an almost skeletal purple-haired human without a single shred of clothing on her body.

One that had not been on the ship at the start of the flight. Which could only mean that she was recovered from the facility's depths.

"Can I help you?" T'Kalis spoke to Lieutenant Carius as she stood up. Surely the turian was the one that her patient was terrified of, given the tense history between their two races. Yet she noted that Lucy wore a most venomous expression on her face while she glared at the Cerberus trooper on the ground; one that would rival even the most furious krogan warlord, and she decided to withhold any judgment as to which one was in control.

"Yes. If you would, this young woman that I am carrying has been left without food or water for quite a few days now. Between dehydration and malnutrition, it is likely best that she receives immediate medical treatment,"

"Let me see," the asari hummed, scanning the woman in Lieutenant Carius' arms. "Weak pulse, low blood pressure...low blood sugar, and a...distinct need for hygienic decontamination. Come with me, Lieutenant, and take her to the medical bay,"

The ship, small as it was, did not have much of a medical bay. There was only a single bed in it, and a rather narrow workbench on one side. Squeezing herself into the gap between the bed and the workbench, T'Kalis motioned for Lieutenant Carius to come in. "Place her on the bed. I'll need to take a closer look. There's not really much room in here, so I'll have to ask you to observe from the crew quarters if you really need to,"

"I do not think that would be necessary," Lieutenant Carius spoke. He laid the purple-haired girl down gently on the bed, and stepped out of the cramped medbay, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.

T'Kalis then turned to her patient on the bed. Offering a soft smile, the doctor asked her. "What's your name, young lady?"

"Papa calls me Nana," replied Nana.

"Nana. It's a nice name. Well, what I'm going to do is give you a wash first, and then I'll run a few tests to see if anything's wrong with you,"

T'Kalis raised an eye ridge when Nana cringed at the mention of the tests. She knew that many disliked visiting doctors – particularly the young – but her reaction was a little extreme. "Don't hurt Nana! Nana hasn't...hasn't done anything bad,"

"You haven't done anything bad," T'Kalis reassured her. She made a mental note to ask either the Spectre or the Lieutenant about Nana's reaction. It was a little too automatic, a little too quick; the signs of some form of psychological damage. The manner in which the girl was speaking definitely indicated an infantile level of mental development; she would have to adjust her manner of care to compensate.

Taking a small basin filled with antiseptic, the doctor lathered it onto the girl's body with a sponge. The doctor was quite familiar with the rather unpleasant scent of urine and excrement, yet the girl absolutely reeked of it. As though she had been sitting in the stuff for a few days at least. Thankfully, the antiseptic was starting to do its work, and the smell was rapidly fading away as she scrubbed away.

"There. Now you're cleaner, Nana," spoke the doctor softly, putting the basin and the now-dirty sponge on the workbench. She ran her omni-tool's diagnostics suite over the girl and frowned. What in the Goddess' name have they been doing to her? Many of her bones had signs of fractures that had healed, incorrectly set. Hairline fractures were everywhere, while larger fractures had barely enough calcification to hold together. Not to mention the severely low levels of nearly all nutrients in the girl's bloodstream... "Goddess. It's a wonder that you're even alive. They really haven't been taking care of you, have they?"

"Nana doesn't understand. Nana gets fed once a day by Papa. Nana gets two meals a day if Nana was good,"

"One meal a day, and two if you were being...rewarded?" repeated the doctor, not quite believing what she was hearing. It did make sense given the available data from her scans, however.

"I don't have anything here to treat you for not having enough food," T'Kalis said apologetically, "It's not normally an issue for soldiers. People everywhere else normally eat three times a day. Biotics usually eat six times, or twice as much on normal meal times, but they're a unique case. You've also got broken bones that haven't healed properly, but they're holding,"

"Nana feels...fine?" the girl whined, pouting. Obviously she was not comfortable with discussing these things, considering how much she was squirming on the bed. Or at least trying to squirm.

Remembering that children usually responded well to sweets, T'Kalis smiled and turned around, searching her drawers. She herself had a sweet tooth; regulations be damned, she will have a sugary treat if she wants to. Finding a box of Thessian crystallised honey balls, she pulled one of them out and held it up, pressing a finger to her lips and winking conspiratorially at Nana.

"Nana, you're a good girl. You've been through a lot, and we really need to get you some proper healthcare. Right now, I don't have the right things to help you, but I need you to not injure yourself any further by moving," said the asari doctor, offering the sphere to Nana, who picked it up gingerly.

The girl rolled it around between her fingers, seemingly confused as to what it was. Seeing that T'Kalis had put an identical ball into her mouth, she mimicked the doctor. Her eyes shot open the moment that her tongue touched the cold sugary treat, and she let out a muffled moan of bliss, relaxing almost immediately.

"Doctor needs you to stay still and sleep until we arrive at the Citadel, since Nana is injured. Can Nana do that for doctor?" crooned T'Kalis, also slightly muffled by the ball in her mouth. Nana nodded gently, and T'Kalis stroked Nana's hair. Her hand, however, caught on two raised growths on the top of her head, spaced quite widely apart.

Must be just a genetic anomaly. There are humans with more or less than five toes, or an extra copy of organs, the doctor thought to herself. Right now, she was too busy calming the adorable human girl. As developed as the girl appeared to be, her current mental state was definitely triggering the motherly instincts in the asari. It also didn't help that the girl had the cutest smile while she was happy.

"Mmmph. Nana will stay still. Nana will be good,"

"That's a good girl. Once you finish eating that, you can sleep. Doctor will need to talk to nice turian outside first,"

T'Kalis squeezed her way out of the medical bay, waving to Nana as she exited. Lieutenant Carius was standing beside the doorway, stiffly standing by as though expecting something to happen.

"Is something the matter, Lieutenant?" asked the doctor, making sure that the door closed before she spoke.

"I am merely worried about Nana. She has not exactly had the most pleasant of experiences in this facility," Carius replied. "What is the extent of her problems?"

She frowned. While the question itself was nice and direct, it was not exactly one that had a simple answer. "Severe, but not life-threatening. There are hairline fractures on almost every single bone of hers that are barely healing, due to lack of calcification. Blood sugars and almost every single vitamin and mineral are severely depleted. While low blood sugar could be attributed to starvation, I cannot see any other cause for the other measurements other than prolonged malnutrition,"

The turian seemed slightly relieved, but the doctor's frown only deepened. "I have nothing to treat Nana properly with. Normally, soldiers on duty receive proper meals that are certain to support them properly. I've only got some candy to give her a quick shot of sugar. As a doctor, my patient's health is my primary concern; and as you were the one to bring her in, I need to ask. What in the Goddess' name was done to her?"

Lieutenant Carius hesitated for a brief moment, and then shook his head. "There are far too many things to list. And it is not my place to comment on an operation that is led by a Spectre, for it is possible that I may say something that must remain classified,"

Turians. Always following the chain of command, no matter where they are... T'Kalis grumbled silently to herself. Maybe she would have to ask Spectre Bau himself when he returned. For the time being, however, she had to keep an eye on her patient.

It had been almost an hour before Jondum returned to the landing pad. His lips were drawn so thinly that one might have mistaken the salarian for having none at all, while his eyes avoided any of the nervous glances that the turian crewmembers had given him.

"Sir, we've finished loading all of the prisoners, except for those that are severely wounded," one of them spoke, "What should we -"

"Return to the ship. All other crew members must also do so," he interrupted the turian curtly, "And let Lieutenant Carius know that I want to meet him outside,"

Unnerved by the salarian's tone, the crewmember nodded and marched back into the ship, followed by his peers. All while muttering about what could have he found that would have changed his mood so abruptly.

"Better that they don't know," Jondum whispered under his breath. He walked on to the landing pad, where Lucy awaited him with her arms crossed.

"It's taken long enough," she growled, "Do you have what you need yet?"

"Mostly," replied the Spectre, shivering. Some things were better unmentioned. Or better yet, unseen. "I need Charon to be present for what I am about to say. It seems that what we've found here – and what you were a part of – is larger than what I had ever expected. If this were ever released in public, the backlash would be unthinkable. Especially against the Alliance,"

"Backlash? For testing weapons on little girls? I think that's well deserved," Lucy snarled, causing Jondum to flinch. As if on cue, Charon appeared on the ship's docking ramp; spotting Lucy and Jondum, he vaulted over the ramp's railing and onto the landing pad.

"Spectre Bau. I suspect that by the way Lucy is reacting, you have found something...unpleasant?" Charon said, causing both of the others to look at him. Jondum nodded, while Lucy continued to glare at the Spectre.

"Genetic modification. Cloning. Organ harvesting," he listed on his fingers, "Restraining minors against their will and without a valid reason,"

Charon gaped at him, while Lucy merely snorted. "Genetic...modification? Organ harvesting?"

"Yes. And abduction of minors identified with genetic mutations which resulted in a new subspecies of humans," he continued darkly, "With complicity of certain arms of the Alliance, if the documents that I retrieved were valid. Or at least some personnel within those arms,"

"Spirits. Why...why would they do this?"

Jondum looked at Lucy, and then back at Charon. He brought up his omni-tool and showed a series of documents, each stamped with an Alliance logo at the top. "Research was intended to provide humanity with a race of supersoldiers, which they hoped would be firmly under their command. Or more likely, just Cerberus' command. My contacts in the STG had reported many cases of unexplained deaths about twenty years ago among the Alliance's colonies in the Skyllian Verge. Nobody thought much of it when the Alliance had declared the cases cold and closed them. After all, there are thousands of murders committed throughout the galaxy every day. A few deaths would just slip under the radar,"

"These reports..." Charon spoke, flicking through the documents, "Every case is at least a double murder. Evisceration, bodies pulverised..."

"And every single time, leaving a horned female infant, with hair and eyes on the red-purple spectrum, in the middle of the carnage. All from a single colony," Jondum finished, glancing at Lucy worriedly, "There were files on each infant as they were retrieved by Alliance servicemen that were Cerberus agents. Yours was among them. In any case, the details on the others are largely unimportant, as the women that they belong to are all deceased. There was a neutron bomb in the bottom of the facility, which eliminated every living creature in it. Except for Nana, but she was fortunate in that her restraints also shielded her from the blast,"

"That would explain the low-level background radiation," added Charon, nodding.

"Yes. However, this means that getting Lucy into safety is even more of a priority. She must be in Palaven as soon as we can, for both her safety and the safety of all Citadel races,"

"What? Why?" demanded Lucy, annoyed that the salarian was not explaining anything at all.

"Lucy..." Jondum said slowly, mulling over what he needed to say, "I mentioned cloning, and organ harvesting, didn't I? Those clones...they were yours. Only six clones were not; they were the clones of Mariko, in cell number thirty-five; and they were apparently intended to hunt you down if you were ever to turn against Cerberus. Your file indicates that you are the only living diclonius that is fertile. Your DNA samples had been rendered unusable by the radiation, and every one of your clones are dead..."

"...And if you were the last one, and they still wanted to continue to research their supersoldier project..." Charon mumbled, deep in thought. His eyes shot wide open as he realised the implications of what Jondum was saying. "That means that you've become a primary target. They need to recover you – or your body – in order to resume this. Either for cloning...or for breeding..."

A strange rumbling sound came from Charon's throat; his eyes were ablaze with unmatched fury. Pulling out his pistol, he motioned for Lucy to come with him towards the nearest prisoner.

"You are aware, as I am, Spectre Bau," he spoke loudly, drawing the attention of the half-dazed Cerberus trooper as well, "Humane treatment of enemy prisoners of war only relates to personnel in service of a legitimate government. This fine fellow in front of us does not fit either category, does he?"

"No. He doesn't," replied the salarian with dread, knowing exactly what is to come next. C-Sec interrogation methods on hardened criminals, particularly in the Lower Wards, were far from wholesome to watch. A giant swamp shark in Sur'kesh would have a far friendlier smile than the one Lucy sported at that moment, and Jondum wheeled about to go back into the ship. Some things were simply better left unseen. "Just remember to clean up after you're done. I'll forward the information that I've recovered to you,"

"No luck?" Jondum asked Charon, as both Lucy and Charon returned to the ship. Both were spattered with blood from head to toe, courtesy of Lucy's method of coercing information from their prisoners. Charon looked a particularly nauseous shade of ashen green, while Lucy wore the most sadistic smile that the Spectre had ever seen on any person he had ever met.

"No. These are simple mercenaries in Cerberus' employ, with little knowledge about what they are guarding," sighed Charon, sitting down on the bench beside the airlock. "They did not know of anything important. Needless to say, Lucy has...disposed of them,"

"I see. A shame, really. I've interrogated the others in the brig, and I'd hoped that you'd have found something. Their attention to operational security is incredible,"

"What about the Council? I cannot imagine that they would accept the fact that a Spectre has requisitioned a ship very lightly. Have they contacted you for a debriefing yet?"

Jondum tensed slightly, and Charon knew that the response was likely not something that any of them would have liked. "As a matter of fact, yes, they have. Each of the Councillors were...horrified, to say the least, when I disclosed the purpose of the facility that we've discovered. Valern has dispatched a team of forensic scientists to recover any more evidence that I may have failed to uncover, along with a military escort to ensure that their work is not disrupted, while Sparatus assures me that the facility will be destroyed after their investigation is complete,"

"And Cerberus?"

"This is where it becomes tricky," the Spectre mumbled, stroking his chin, "Councillor Anderson was well aware that there might be Cerberus agents, active or otherwise, present inside arms of the Alliance military. He assures me that he is attempting everything that he can to suppress them, but they have been very effective at hiding from any investigations that he has launched. Worse still, he believes that they have infiltrated quite high up the chain of command,"

Lucy frowned deeply. This was not what she wanted to hear, not at all. "Is that Shepard woman included?" she grumbled, hoping that she would have an excuse to tear her apart if the woman decided to chase her again.

"As much as you would think so, the situation is more complicated than that. Shepard seems to be pursuing neither the agenda of the Council nor Cerberus at this time. Councillor Anderson insisted that Shepard is only working with Cerberus to stop the Reapers and Collectors. This seems to be supported by reports of her assisting non-humans in the slums of Omega. And a former STG agent by the name of Mordin Solus, if reports are to be trusted,"

"Helping species other than humans does not fit Cerberus' modus operandi," Charon said thoughtfully. Noticing Lucy's confused expression, he quickly added, "It means that what Commander Shepard is doing is not typically what Cerberus does to achieve their goals. Cerberus typically prefers to...eliminate any non-humans in their way, and recruit humans if they can. This probably means that the Commander is pursuing her own goals, despite wearing their colours,"

"I did hear that Spectre funding for the Commander has been severely cut - and that Cerberus' pockets are deeper than most would think. In any case, this ship's been ordered to return to Palaven immediately. Sparatus said that if you and Nana were the last survivors of that facility's experiments, the two of you are likely very high priority targets for Cerberus. Nana has been granted temporary asylum to allow her to remain in Palaven,"

"That makes sense. I highly doubt that any good turian would ever work for Cerberus willingly," Charon said slowly. Turning to Lucy, however, doubt began to cloud his mind about whether this was truly the best of ideas. He did promise her that they would bring Cerberus down in the name of revenge. One of its many arms had been brought down, yet still it exists. For now, her thirst for vengeance had been sated. But how long would it be until she would demand more blood?

Palaven. It had seemed like an age since Charon had last been on the sun-scorched planet. The humans had joked that the only things that were not silver on it were the turians, as they were made of steel. As their planetbound transport descended into the atmosphere, he wondered if they knew just how unwittingly accurate their jest was. Nearly everything that moved had a metallic hide or carapace; plants bore leaves of silver and ash-grey; and even the cities were painted in a metallic white paint, only embellished with slight splashes of other colours.

"It's so bright," whispered Lucy, a hand pressed against a side window. Trebia – the star which Palaven orbits – was beginning to rise above the horizon, bathing the arid lands below in a brilliant bluish-white light. She stared in wonder at the cities below, the jagged angular lines of the streets a strange contrast to the orderly avenues of the Citadel.

"You'll need to give her something for the radiation, Lieutenant Carius," spoke Doctor T'Kalis, taking her time to apply some extra-strong radiation screening cream onto the purple-haired girl beside her. Nana had grown rather attached to the kindly asari, refusing to leave her side except if ordered by Lucy.

With the Indomitable docked for repair and resupply in orbit, the crew had been given shore leave on Palaven for a week. T'Kalis chose to accompany Nana, feeling affectionate towards the girl, and somewhat curious about how she would settle into a more domestic setting. From what Charon had said to her, House Carius had also accepted Nana into their family, under pressure from the Hierarchy's leadership.

"Doctor says that the...radiation...is harmful to Nana. Lucy should get some too," sang Nana, giggling as the asari doctor dabbed on some more cream around the girl's nose. "That's cold!"

"At least you won't be sunburned once it's all on," T'Kalis chided, smiling. She then closed the jar of sunblock and ran her fingers through Nana's hair. "It's been almost two hundred years since I've last been on Palaven. I wonder if the old asari enclave in Cipritine is still there,"

"Definitely still around, if not a bit bigger. Plenty of young asari growing up there," replied the pilot of the transport.

"That's good to hear. I'll be looking forward to visiting some of my friends,"

"It'll be a while until we touch down. We're actually above Cipritine at the moment, but the spaceport is busy like a spirits-damned salarian on stimulants. Still waiting for clearance. If any of you are new to Palaven, I'm about to fly in circles until we're given a spot. Might as well take a look at what's there,"

The city, Lucy noted, was shaped much like a many-pointed star. A wide, water-filled trench ran around the edge, which was itself surrounded by sweeping grasslands. At each point of the star, she could see a squat building with an enormous anti-aircraft gun on top of it. Each was wrapped in a shimmering blue shield bubble, and she could see several aircraft parked on the ground near them. Every building was painted a uniform white, with only the rare splash of colour here and there.

"Every turian city is built to be easily defended," Charon said, scooting over to sit beside her, "Cipritine is, perhaps, the best example of our tradition in building in preparation of war. Every building is fortified, and every street gives no person more than a hundred metres of sight in any direction. There is a certain beauty in it, but I doubt that the asari sense of style would agree with ours,"

"The style is too rigid and cold for my liking," T'Kalis called out, "Nothing like the flowing lines of Thessia. You turians need to lighten up,"

"I haven't seen either yet, so I won't comment on that. Which one's your house, Charon?"

Humming, Charon waited for the transport to make another trip around the city. His eyes scanned the squat buildings on each point of the star-shaped city. To Lucy, each one was simply painted uniformly white; for the life of her, she could not think of what Charon was looking for.

"There it is," said Charon, after what seemed like an eternity. He pointed down at a fortress-like compound, painted white and red all over. Several tanks were parked on the tarmac in front of it, which were also painted a dark crimson. A number of guard towers were spaced around the outer walls. Even the walls themselves reflected the rising sun a little too well; Lucy suspected that they were made of steel, or at least covered in it.

"...I really don't think that's a house,"

"It is my home. Or at least, my family's home; and yours, as well," muttered Charon. "Turian homes are designed for practical purposes. Every building serves a purpose in a war,"

"Trust the turians to think that a house needs to have a cannon mounted on top of it to be considered complete," giggled T'Kalis, earning her an angry glare from Charon. "What? You're an engineer, aren't you? Last I heard from the Indomitable's engineering crew, they couldn't resist calibrating all the weapons on the ship, from the smallest pistol to the main gun. Don't you feel the same way?"

"Well, if all turians are like that...explains the guns in his apartment," Lucy said in a deadpan tone.

"I knew it! He loves calibrating them, just like the others. Probably spends all night doing it,"

"Being prepared has never harmed anyone," Charon said, shrugging. "I had thought you were a strict, businesslike person on the ship. I did not expect these...questions,"

"Oh, loosen up. Just because I'm a doctor, doesn't mean that I don't know how to cut loose when on shore leave. Or to have some fun," the doctor chuckled. Leaning in, she added in a sultry whisper, "Still, I'm curious. I haven't seen a human with turian markings before. Are you two...together? Has she seen a turian's...personal cannon-"

"No!" Lucy and Charon shouted in unison, drawing stares from everyone else in the transport. Lucy turned a brilliant shade of vermillion, burying her face in her hands. Charon had his mandibles pressed flat against his face.

"There we go. Now you're loosening up. Slightly," T'Kalis chirped, grinning.

Recomposing himself, Charon breathed out, "I would rather not think of my adoptive sister in that manner, thank you,"

"What's a personal cannon?" the purple-haired girl asked innocently, causing all three of them to cringe.

Eyeing Charon, Lucy whispered, "You're explaining this if she asks again later,"

A/N

Alright. Some sillier fluff at the end; Nana is just way too innocent to not do this.

The design of turian cities is actually mentioned to be practical and defensible. To this end, the closest reference that I could find in real life is a late medieval / renaissance star fort. It'd be entirely in character for turians to design a city with military goals in mind.

Next up: Meeting the...not-quite-in-laws?