Ellen had motioned everyone into a loose circle around the horrid monument. He stood beside her, closer than Operative Lawson, who still seemed to be shunned by the rest of the company. He felt a momentary flash of warmth for the Operative that faded quickly when he thought of her extreme loyalty to Cerberus and her belief that humans should be dominant. The Operative had never spoken harsh words to him, or said much at all to him, but he still noted the way the she seemed to flinch when he reached for his Siha's hand. He would always be "alien" to such a human, whether she took personal notice of him or no.

"I'm not usually good at making speeches, so cut me a little slack, hunh?"

The Doctor shook her head, and he heard a faint snicker from beneath her helmet. Beside him, Ellen took a breath that should have been deep, but for the choking in the midst of her inhalation.

Yeah right, Commander, he heard over the radio.

"I was told when I woke up that everyone 'important' survived the crash. That 'only a few crewmen on the lower decks' were lost. That everything that mattered was saved the day the Collectors shot the Normandy out of the sky. But I think we all know better than that. That a ship's crew is larger than the count of the individuals who make it up, infinitely larger than its officers and its principals.

"We sing of the ship's commander, of the crewmen who fire the guns, of the officers who make the calls in battle. We hail them as heroes, but we forget the rest who make the ship run. The engineers who keep the ship from falling to pieces, the relief navigators who keep the ship on course when the primary sleeps. The mess staff who keep the crew from starvation. The mechanics who keep the drop vehicles running after we nearly destroy them on endless worlds with far too many mountains. Any one of the pieces goes missing, and the ship fails.

"Normandy lost her heart that day, when her unsung were killed. This is our chance to honor the invisible, who were every bit as responsible for the victory over Sovereign and Saren as I was, if not more so."

Twenty names she recited from her "faulty" memory, twenty anecdotes, supplemented with Tali'Zorah's memories and Garrus' stories.

"My XO died that day also, taken in battle when the Collectors first opened fire. I don't really have the right words to honor Navigator Pressley, one of the finest XOs I've ever served beside, but I'll miss his dedication and the boyish glee he kept hidden until we stole the Normandy. He was a fine man and a kindred spirit. I'll remember the men and women lost as best I can, but I can't give them the honor they deserve. They are every inch the heroes as the most lauded of the Normandy's crew, and they deserve just as many accolades. Vayan con Dios, mis hermanos."

As she made that crossing gesture, Tali'Zorah said, "Keelah se'lai!"

She leaned toward him and whispered, "It means, 'Go with God, brothers,' or 'Godspeed, brothers.'"

"A song for the fine men and women who led the fight to save the Citadel!" Donnelly said. "If yer dad was a proper Scottsman, he should have taught ye this, Commander…"

The man launched into a song with lyrics that barely translated, and only slowly.

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?"

"That he did," she said, and raised a gravelly voice to join him.

"Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and old lang syne?

"For auld lang syne, my dears,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne."

"That's all I know, though."

"It's enough, Commander. Three rounds and we'll be done."

"What does 'auld lang syne' mean, Siha?" He kept his voice low so that the Engineer might not laugh.

"'Days gone by,' or 'long ago.' It's a song about memory."

This time, when the Engineer started the song, Operative Lawson joined in and eased the grating of Ellen's voice on his ears. Tears distort human voices, he tried to reassure himself. Engineer Daniels hummed tunelessly and sang a word or two, while Doctor Chakwas remained silent. Garrus, on the opposite side of the circle, stared at each of the humans in turn, the hinged joint on his helmet drooping likely with his jaw beneath. And then, the cacophony was over and he was able to pull in a relieved breath.

"Donnelly, don't encourage Shepard to sing," the turian said. "Please, for the sake of all of our ears."

"Bah! What do ye know about singing? This song is for everyone, and not for a choir of angels."

"And my elbow still hasn't recovered. Son of a bitch."

"Another song, Commander!"

"Garrus looks like he wants to kill you."

"Did yer dad teach ye 'Amazing Grace?'"

She shook her head.

"Crossin' yerself like that, he probably wouldn't."

"Shepard, we should discuss this on board the shuttle," Operative Lawson said.

"Aww, you're no fun," Daniels said.

"We're already overdue for a briefing. Ms. Zorah, I need you to attend."

"Oh, Keelah, what now?"

"Relax, Tali. Miranda just wanted to get your impressions on a few modifications Cerberus sent us."

"All right, Shepard, for your sake. You'll be there, won't you?"

"I'm sorry. I have to do a little message-writing. Twenty-one, to be exact."

Operative Lawson motioned to Ellen as the rest piled into the shuttle.

"You see what I'm up against, Shepard? I can't even to the smallest thing for her, or for you, without running into comparisons with your old Alliance second-in-command."

"No one's comparing you, Miranda. Not me."

"'The finest XO?'"

"I said, 'one of' and I've only had two. Before that, I was an XO, and I wasn't anywhere nearly as good at it as you are."

The Operative flinched as he put an arm around his Siha, and twitched when she leaned against him.

"I want you to be honest with me, Shepard. Tell me why I run into so much resistance with the aliens we work with."

A deep breath. "All right. First you're Cerberus. I mean dedicated, one-hundred-fifty percent loyal to Cerberus, no matter what they're doing. And you're proud of it. Tali's people were attacked and killed by Cerberus agents, but you defended their actions on Freedom's Progress. Cerberus doesn't sit too well with non-humans, and probably for very good reasons. I'm working with Cerberus now, and it damned well doesn't sit well with me. And then there's that jerking you do."

"Jerking?"

She ran her free hand across his belly, slowly, and so gently he felt only a faint pressure that did nothing to rouse him, though the Operative's presence might have squelched his usual, almost maddening need to be in contact with her, whether the touch of her foot beneath the table when they ate, or her hand in his when they spoke. She clasped her hands where they met around his waist. The effect on the Operative, though, nearly wrenched a laugh out of him; the woman jumped as if she'd had her shields overloaded.

"Maybe I should have said, 'seizure.'"

"Shepard, the drell is a valuable addition to our crew…"

"Thane."

"I'm sorry, Commander?"

"His name is Thane."

"Siha, the others await us aboard the shuttle."

"He has proven a more valuable addition to the crew than his dossier led me to expect, but…"

"And Garrus?"

"Nothing in his dossier indicated that the turian would…"

"You hear it, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Commander. I don't understand what you're getting at."

"You call Garrus, 'the turian,' Thane, 'the drell,' and I'm guessing Tali's 'the quarian.' When they're individuals to you rather than just generic 'aliens,' maybe you'll see why you're getting resistance." Her words should have been delivered with hostility, but instead, she kept her voice quiet.

Operative Lawson still staggered as if she'd been slapped. "You think I don't see them as individuals?"

"How about as equals?"

"They are under my command."

"True."

"And yours."

"And when off duty? Look, I'm not trying to insult you, Miranda. I used to be just like you, but a couple of these people taught me that humanity wasn't the galaxy's most valuable asset. Not by a long shot."

"The Illusive Man will be very disappointed to hear you say that. I can't say I'm thrilled to hear it either."

"The Illusive Man can suck a set of varren balls for all I care. But I wasn't talking about species and delusions of superiority. I was talking about friendship, about knowledge, about sharing and understanding."

A half-laugh from the Operative. "'Varren balls,' Commander?"

"Make sure to bold that in your next report."

"And how is this supposed to help me handle Ms. Zorah?"

"Just don't go all 'Cerberus' on her. She doesn't hate everyone associated with Cerberus. She and Kelly are close, and she's fond of Daniels and Donnelly."

"She's a fine engineer, better than the two humans she supervises."

"And tell her that. It'll mean something coming from Cerberus. Maybe."

"Or she'll think it's a plot to manipulate her," he said.

"The dr—Mr. Krios—makes a good point."

"Well, you have to start somewhere."

"Thanks, Commander."

"Any time."

When the Operative headed for the shuttle, he took a moment to feel the contact he shared with her, the hint of plates pressing into his lower back, the roughness of her helmet against his palm, the gentle pressure of her gauntleted fingers against his waist. As she'd spoken to Operative Lawson, she'd never released her grip.

"'Crew' isn't just 'crew' to you, Siha. The organization of these individuals is something larger, with a certain mysticism about it."

"Poetry always makes things sound better."