2187 Ubtao - Normandy SR2

A trio of armed troopers was waiting for Sachiko when she stepped out of the Kodiak shuttle. Involuntarily Tanaka snapped a salute. "Welcome to the Normandy, ma'am," a female corporal wearing a beret returned it. "You're being expected. Please follow me."

The Hades officer could not help but feel... intimidated. Everything about the legend of that ship was a crushing weight that added to the already heavy burden of her past deeds. Even those simple troopers had something about them that made her feel insignificant, that something represented by a small pin on their collars, the most coveted military insignia all over the galaxy. And they clearly knew it.

Again there were parallels to be found in history. After World War Two, those airmen that had fought -and survived- the bitter ordeal of the Battle of Britain had been dubbed The Few. That was, without a doubt, a moniker not undeserved for these men and women inhabiting that legendary starship. And, as had been the case with the recipients of the United States' Medal of Honor, those were people that others their senior but without that pin saluted first. She had just done so.

"First time aboard, ma'am?" The corporal asked politely. Her tag read 'WESTMORELAND'.

"Is it that obvious?"

Westmoreland smiled. "Everyone who comes aboard for the first time has that look, ma'am."

I so wish I spent those years aboard this ship, Sachiko thought in anguish, knowing that she had been so close. An understanding nod concealed that wail.

The lift took them to the engineering level. When the elevator opened, the escorting troops turned right, taking her to an unassuming door, where they saluted, turned back, and left. After a few seconds the door opened. "Come in," Liara T'Soni commanded.

The office was a spartan affair: a desk, two chairs, and nothing else but naked bulkheads and panels. The Asari stared piercingly at the former Cerberus agent for a second. "Do you know why you're here?"

Tanaka shook her head once. "No, ma'am. My lieutenant only said that I had been hand-picked for a covert assignment. That was all."

Liara nodded. "This is a very demanding assignment, ensign. You are freely entitled to accept it or reject it after you have heard what it's about." Again the piercing stare. "The 'nothing will be said' part is a trite thing, but if you choose to reject it, it stays here."

The Phantom blinked. "I'm listening, ma'am."

Now the Asari was all business. A few taps on her omni-tool, then the lights dimmed, and an unseen hologram projector started working. "As you know, three standard days ago the Batarian refugee ship Deliverance and two civilian freighters were hijacked by slavers, who scuttled the ships rather than surrendering to the Quarian-Geth forces that intercepted them near D9. The Quarians delivered whatever evidence they got and the suspects they captured to the Citadel. The first interrogations yielded that the slavers were to deliver their captives to a client at the slave trade hub in the Logasiri system, and that the refugees were tricked into an ambush; they were told that route would be safe. That's where you come in.

"Your mission is to infiltrate the slaver rings in Logasiri, investigate the known associations of these pirates, and retrieve information that confirms the deal.

"For this mission you will have to go completely undercover. You will have to assume the identity of a smuggler and small-time Terminus raider. This entails extensive preparation: you will have to undergo cosmetic surgeries and retroviral DNA modification to conceal your identity. You will be stricken from the records of the Alliance forces and the Hades programs as a casualty. Officially you will cease to exist. You can have no contact whatsoever with no one you know presently - though from what I have been told that should not be an issue. You will be handled by an agent of the Spectres and operatives on the payroll of the Shadow Broker."

Sachiko did not allow herself a reaction. All the training she had done under Samara for the past ten days, plus the deployment on the derelict station, and the long probation regime that had been the Hades program, all those events and more had been in preparation for this moment. This was the opportunity she had been secretly hoping for -no, praying for- in her most secret heart: a chance at being trusted again.

Of course she would take it. "I will be whoever you need me to be, ma'am."

Liara assented. "Here are your orders. Return to the hangar bay. Our shuttle will be waiting for you." She handed over a memory card, looking at the Cerberus veteran in the eyes with well guarded intensity: there it was. It had been a good idea, bringing the girl aboard the Normandy. Miranda had been right. "Good luck, ensign."

"Thank you, ma'am." She saluted, turned, and left.

The Asari felt a twinge of guilt for duping Tanaka. What would she say if she found out that she had been recruited by the Shadow Broker herself? Probably nothing. The girl was so used to keeping her emotions to herself that it was a miracle she had not split in half by now. She tapped her omni-tool. "Cortez?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Our guest accepted."

"Understood." Liara knew the Kodiak pilot would be opening a pouch and looking for a very specific memory card she had given him with instructions for this event. "I'll handle it, ma'am."

"Thank you, Cortez."

"Don't mention it."

The Asari stood, then closed her eyes. The easier part of her day was over. Now came the hard one. She left the room, entered the lift, and headed for the captain's quarters. The door opened: Miranda and Shepard were already there. "It's done," she said flatly before anyone could ask anything.

"...Good." The former Cerberus officer tried looking Liara in the eye and failed.

A few instants of deeply uncomfortable silence followed. Not even Alina in her crib dared to break it. She merely stared at the grown-ups with huge eyes, unable to understand what was happening.

"Liara," Shepard asked, "we don't have to go ahead with this if you don't want to."

"No, no... I do. I... have to grow out of this." She turned: "Miranda... we have had this talk already, but not in front of Shepard."

Miranda closed her eyes and exhaled in a sigh. "And I told you then that even if you both said it's okay, I still feel it's not." The quiet comment was all that more painful for being quiet. "I can't shake the feeling you have agreed to something you don't quite agree with." She shook her head. The tip of her tongue pursed her lips, and she was about to say something, but did not, then again she tried to speak. She struggled for a while to find the words. When she did, her voice quivered. "I... I want to be a part of this, you wouldn't believe how badly I do, but only if you will not see me as... competition. I don't want to feel like I'm... violating... something here."

Liara tried reaching inside her heart for compassion or understanding, and found little, and a part of herself was relieved for finding little, while another hated herself for it. A part of her wanted to pound that interloper flat until she was an ugly stain on the floor, another wanted to reach out to her. And her whole self was terrified of letting Miranda see all that.

Why not simply let it rest? She could let go of this, pretend it never happened, and keep on living as a simple couple with her spouse...

The temptation was strong... for an instant. Doing that now would mean to let Miranda continue to suffer for issues that had no easy way out. And Miranda had already come to terms with most of those on her own, before Liara had started bringing them to the surface again. To turn back now...

I can't do that. "You... aren't going to like all of what you're going to see. I'm sure neither will I."

The brunette woman brushed a tear away and nodded. "How... what do we-"

"Shush now." Liara held Miranda's hands. "Look at me." How brittle she is, she told herself again. So confident and smug-looking...

But on the inside...

"Let me in, Miranda."

On that moment the brunette girl literally froze. Shepard watched the two women with apprehension, inevitably remembering how their first melding had been, how different the urgencies of that moment, and the many times they had melded since then. Much less hurriedly, learning from one another, knowing one another, enjoying one another. And how, before the final assault on the Conduit, on those brief minutes alone on the infirmary, they had conceived Alina. Now the N7 waited, wishing that this melding did not go sour. It could happen. Nothing about the relationship with Miranda had been kept from Liara, but maybe Liara could see something on her memories that could cast new light on a past event-

Would you just shut up! How dare you doubt her!

Alina cooed questioningly. Shepard approached the cradle and murmured, reaching into the crib to pick her up, "Mom is busy, big girl. She is taking care of someone we love very, very much. You know who she is. Auntie Miri... see...?"

Please, Shepard pleaded in silence, yet so strongly that the thought was almost a voice casting echoes against the walls, so caught up staring at the two entranced women that did not notice Alina staring at them as well. Accept each other.

This waiting seemed to stretch on forever. Then suddenly, the atmosphere on the quarters changed. Miranda blinked three, four times, but her eyes did not waver off Liara's.

Then unexpectedly she nearly choked the Asari in an embrace, which Liara returned with her gentle warmth. She caught sight of Shepard almost collapsing with relief and nodded reassuringly. It's alright now. Really.

It took them several minutes to ease away from each other, Miranda being still clearly numb from the episode. "I know I should know better than to ask," the N7 ventured cautiously, "but is there anything in particular...?"

Liara exhaled slowly. "What eased me was to feel how... terrified... she is of harming any of us somehow. And yes, you know this is beyond words."

"Yes, I do." Shepard wanted to ask the same from the other woman, but she was still trying to absorb the experience -for a first, it had been a long melding- and pressing her now would do no good. Alina looked around with confused eyes, sensing that something had happened. "Now... where do we go from here?"

The Asari smirked. "What's the rush? You got what almost every human out there wants: you now have two mates, they know of each other, they are fine with it, and they are happy now." This caused Miranda to snap out of her stupor with quiet laughter. Then Liara teased: "There's one small thing... I think... you haven't considered, though... can you keep both of us happy?"

The brunette girl looked at Shepard through the corner of her eye. "I hear a challenge being issued."

The N7 accepted it with a grin. "I trust you will show me some mercy and give me a bit of a headstart, will you?"

The Normandy had little room for secrets. Shepard's past dalliance with the erstwhile Cerberus second-in-command was not precisely one anymore, and when Mrs. T'Soni-Shepard ordered Miss Lawson's offices on the engineering level moved into her own information center -when the two women had purposely kept their work separate from each other thus far-, everyone got the hint. A few comments and jokes were exchanged among the crew, but the tacit agreement was there - it stayed in the ship.

Even the day-to-day business they started carrying on jointly. This fact did not escape Jondar Krayt when he met them on the austere cabin where Liara had briefed Tanaka. "What do you require of me?"

"We just had a conversation with your... former sponsor, Jondum Bau. Congratulations, agent Krayt," Liara offered sincerely. "You are to report to the Citadel tomorrow for your investing ceremony."

The Drell was startled, but quickly recovered. "Apologies, lady T'Soni. You caught me off guard. I thank you for your kind words, but there must be another reason for requesting my presence on your vessel."

Miranda handled this. "You will take your first assignment from us. We are setting up an effort to investigate the report the Quarians provided in regards to the D9 incident. We are recruiting assets and handlers to manage them, and we want you in on the effort."

Abruptly the white lighting turned off, only to be replaced by amber ones. Alarms went off all over the ship. EDI's voice rang on the speakers: "All personnel to battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill. All personnel to battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat. This is not a drill."

Liara was on her feet with startling speed. Her first impulse was to send Krayt over to Cortez so that he could be given a temporary posting aboard the ship, but as a Spectre he was outside and above the command chain now. Before she could say anything, her omni-tool flashed with her spouse's dour face: "Liara, get up here. We got company."

Neither woman asked what kind of company it was. The Drell followed them to the corridor and into the lift without word, watching as the hangar bay below had turned into a frantic whirlwind of activity.

Yeoman Chambers was by the elevator door. "Mr. Krayt, the bridge's off-"

"Krayt is a Spectre effective as of thirteen minutes ago, miss Chambers," Liara cut her short. "He has jurisdiction to go wherever he pleases aboard this ship."

The woman saluted on the spot. "Please excuse my bad manners, sir."

"No offense taken, miss Chambers." The Drell let Liara and Miranda first, deferring to them. The trio walked through the combat information center, crowded with operators and officers manning their stations, into the cockpit proper.

"What is it?" The Asari asked.

"The observation satellites deployed by Javik detected signals consistent with vessels entering the system four minutes ago," the AI informed. "Readouts indicate they will come within detection range of the relay in two-point-six hours."

"Where's the Victory?"

"Playing hide-and-seek with the newcomers," was Joker's reply. "Last thing we heard from Javik, he was keeping the star between him and the contacts."

Shepard was staring at one of Joker's heads-down displays. "Position us between Ubtao star and the fleet. We're going to make our famous imitation of a hole in the space to wait and see."

"Aye aye, skipper," was the pilot's acknowledgement.

Miranda glanced at the Drell. "Your gamble on the relay not being Reaper-built proved correct. What do you suggest this time around?"

The freshly minted Spectre shrugged. "If we take professor Cirron's evidence as fact, then chances are a civilization two whole cycles our elder has come to see what's happening. But then, on the other hand, if we consider the relay was encased in ice before it went active, maybe something else could have happened to them instead."

"You know, Krayt, you could have made it easier on yourself and just said that you don't know, like the rest of us." Several people snorted upon Garrus' quip. Nobody had heard him arriving on the cockpit. Ashley and Tali came in behind him. "We're not going to fire at anybody, aren't we, Shepard?"

"If it boils down to that, I'm confident you've prepared everything." The Turian accepted the implied joke with an amused grunt.

They left the cockpit and the business of flying the Normandy into the hands of Joker and EDI, and returned to the CIC. Most of Shepard's team was arriving now. "Trayvon," the N7 ordered, "bring up a map of the local star system."

"Aye aye, captain." The usual holographic representation of their ship vanished to depict the giant white star and its vicinity. There were six planetary bodies, plus the cruciform shape of the relay on the outer reaches of the solar system and the derelict deep space installation built by unknown hands -both now roughly to their south-east-, three asteroid belts, six small green icons indicating the stealth surveillance satellites deployed by Javik's ship, and the larger ones that represented Mikhailovich's fleet as it moved to conceal its presence from the newcomers behind the nearest planet. The Victory was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected; after all, like the Normandy, its job was to disappear. Its last known location was identified with a purple marker instead.

Then there were the icons denoting the unknown ships. They had entered the system through the north-western quadrant. Unlike the green ones representing friendly vessels, these were yellow, and their movement was jarred, as the satellites updated their position every three seconds. There were ten of those -no, twelve now- of diverse sizes; two of them had displacement at least equivalent to that of a dreadnought.

"Not bothering with stealth," Garrus mused. Their heading was not changing. "They don't seem to be heading straight towards the relay, but they clearly have sniffed out something. I don't like these odds."

"Me neither," the N7 agreed. "I'm pretty sure Mikhailovich has ordered Val'Akar to mobilize the fleet on D9."

"Captain, some pict-captures of the incoming ships are available," EDI reported.

The CIC suddenly turned very quiet.

"Put them on screen."

Through the hologram, Shepard saw several pale-skinned crewmen turn even paler still.

"Looks like a Reaper, but not quite," Garrus noted coolly. "They did not have that large maw. And those pincer-like things... they didn't have them either. No tentacles."

"What would be their purpose?" Tali pondered. "Notice this." A few commands, and she zoomed in on the 'appendages'.

"They're... hollow?" Vega's brow knotted.

"Not fighter launching bays... neither missile nor torpedo launchers... not accelerator cannons or directed-energy weapons..." The Turian veteran was thinking out loud as he ruled out possibilities. "They do seem articulate alright, but to what end?"

Krayt commented, "Something that could latch onto enemy craft sounds like some excellent boarding aids to me."

Crab jumped to Ashley's mind. "Possible," she allowed slowly.

Garrus was not convinced. "They look awfully delicate if that's their purpose. In my experience, no matter who makes it, assault gear is rugged, bulky, and tough, or else it breaks before it can do the job."

"EDI, show me another," Shepard requested. The image changed to depict a compact ship with three hulls attached to a central axis on a triangular pattern.

"These are the two ships with dreadnought-displacement mass among the incoming vessels," the AI reported.

Garrus paced around the hologram again, studying the ship as he had done with the previous one, Krayt and Tali behind him. "Whatever they are, this is not good news, Shepard. Notice these." Each hull had smooth outer convex surfaces, save for a series of peak-shaped slits placed forwards. "Weapon ports. They can't be anything else."

"Opinions?" The N7 asked around.

Ashley was the first to speak. "I hate to admit it, but Garrus may be right. Most certainly this is an armed expedition force. Hell, they may even be coming in response to us taking the station by force."

"Probably their goal is the same as ours," Vega speculated. "Securing the relay from anything hostile that may come from the other side."

"Consider their point of view and what we know of them," the Quarian started, then quickly fell back: "Okay, we know nothing about how they think, but if they're the same people that built the relay and escaped from the Reapers... how would we react if it had been us fleeing for our lives, sealing the door back to our home galaxy, and finding out that that same door has been opened from the other side?"

Garrus had to nod in agreement. "We'd be scared out of our minds." Then he raised his head again. "Shepard, remember Shanxi. That whole episode was... was... I read the term somewhere... oh, a Charlie-Fox. Our fault was to thump heads blindly, yours was to toy with things beyond your knowledge. Common sense was in short supply on both sides."

The captain of the Normandy sat on a chair facing the starmap control console, chin resting on a hand, thinking. It was, certainly, an idea to give anyone pause with these stakes.

At last: "Where would you deploy the fleet if you were Mikhailovich?"

Krayt replied immediately: "Around the relay. No cover between us and them. Make it easy for either side to have a clear look at the other."

"And a clear shot," Garrus objected.

"You're less afraid of what you can see," the Drell retorted.

The Turian did not like it, but he had to relent. "It's one hell of a risk, Shepard, but we are trying to avoid a war here, aren't we?"

The N7 realized something: "Liara, Miranda... you've been very quiet."

Both had been standing side to side, probably unknowing of the fact until their... mutual... couple had spoken to them. They looked at each other. Now aware of their respective hidden depths, they knew the misreputed animosity between them had had a gram of truth, with a basis in Liara's jealousy - jealousy that had become manifest in Illium during the hunt for the previous Shadow Broker. That resentment had died when confronted with Miranda's stark raving terror of somehow damaging Shepard's and Liara's family, in spite of her longing for her spouse and for the warmth of a role in the raising of Alina.

One very deep desire of Miranda's, one that was only private to her and Liara -one that had only started to take a vague shape when Shepard had told Miranda that Liara was 'okay' with them being together-, was that someday the Asari could conceive a daughter to call hers.

Would that happen at all? Someday?

Liara could not say.

She was only now beginning to appreciate someone her innermost self had feared until a few hours before.

But that already brought them closer somewhat. The melding had given them both many insights on each other's ways of thinking. Enough for Miranda to arch an eyebrow, and for Liara to reply with a small nod. Then the brunette girl spoke: "We should speak with Javik if he's observing the newcomers as Joker said."

A nod. "Miss Chambers... Draft a message to Mikhailovich. Send him a summary of the discussion we just had. Tell him that... we strongly suggest him not to stage an ambush as he's doing. Then let's proceed to our loitering station and wait for Javik to contact us."

They did not have to wait for long. "Captain, we have a QEC message from Admiral Mikhailovich," Chambers reported a scant half an hour later. "We have a location on Javik. He's waiting for us there."

"Show the location on the map." The new icon popped up next to the world where Javik had reported spotting the attack on the unknown alien colonists. The incoming fleet was almost directly between them and the Victory now.

"They are single-minded," Garrus quipped. They have to know we are here. We can deploy stealth satellites, why shouldn't they have that around or worse? On their turf?

"What's he doing there?" Ashley pondered.

"We're going to find out. Joker," Shepard called out via omni-tool, "how long to get to this planet?"

"I guess, uhhh... twelve minutes, skipper."

"You got four. We must know whatever stuff Javik's got his hands on that he can't send to us via QEC. Punch it!"

Inside the cockpit, Joker's mouth watered and he smiled to himself, rubbing his hands with glee. "Wow, it's been so long since we put you through the paces..."

EDI's voice rang on his earbud. "Don't get cocky, Mr. Moreau. I don't want to have to ground you."

The pilot almost choked with laughter. "Yes, mom."

"Prepare for deceleration," the AI warned. "Three... two... one... deceleration complete. Stealth drive engaged."

"Javik's ship dead ahead," an operator reported. "Range 2430, bearing 1-8-2."

"Three minutes, fifty-eight seconds," Garrus whispered to the Normandy's captain. "Always count on Joker for getting in or out of places quickly."

"Captain, we're being hailed," Trayvon reported. "It's the Victory..."

"Yes, Trayvon? What does Javik say?"

"It's a heavily encrypted message through an extremely narrow tightbeam stream of very limited range, captain. I don't have the key for it, and neither does EDI. I presume it to be private code, captain."

That sounds like Javik alright. "I'll take it."

The image of a Salarian appeared on Shepard's private terminal. The N7 recognized him: it was Maturin, the Victory's communications officer. It was a strange moment to ponder on the odd rituals and practices that bonded the crew of that shiptogether, one of these being that all of them cast away their surnames upon joining. "Captain, it's an honor to greet you personally. My commander respectfully asks you to personally come aboard with your team as soon as possible."

So explosive is this that they can't even share it via short-range communicators? "Tell Javik we'll be joining you as soon as possible."

Miranda had suggested for this eventuality; Garrus, Tali, Liara, Miranda, Krayt the Drell Spectre, and the captain of the Normandy were already geared up and waiting inside the Normandy's UT-47A. A gesture to Cortez, and the Kodiak's engines roared to life.

A scant minute later they were entering the Victory's hangar. As soon as the large outer door closed and pressure levels stabilized, the lift doors directly in front of them opened, and Javik walked in. "Shepard," he hollered.

"Javik, you have us intrigued, I have to admit," the N7 said offhandedly in greeting. "You have brought us all here, what's this about?"

"You will discover the trip was well worth it." Without preamble he led the visitors into the elevator, thence to the crew quarters, and thence to the medical bay. A quartet of heavily armed and armored krogan stood guard outside the door. "This is what we found." The door opened.

Liara walked in first, slowly, followed by Krayt and Tali.

Over one of the examination tables rested a limp form with six limbs, still clad in a heavy suit of some kind. Still, it could be clearly seen that it was slender and delicate in complexion, distantly similar to a Salarian in shape -tall, slim and lanky-, except for the extra pair of arms and being significantly taller. An unusually pale-skinned human male in a labcoat was tending to the creature.

The N7 exhaled, then nodded several times. "Well done, Javik. Well done."

Tali gaped at the form, then noticed some readings on her heads-up display. "There's... you've put up an EM screen?"

The Prothean nodded. "I don't want surprises with tracking devices or distress beacons."

"Is it alive?" Liara asked quietly.

The doctor raised his eyes and answered, "Barely. We figured out it breathes oxygen early on, but it's been exposed to all manner of radiation. The suit is the only reason it's still clinging to life."

"Before we start getting all science-y..." Garrus left the rest unsaid.

"Right you are, Garrus," the N7 replied. "Doctor, please prepare the subject for transportation. Javik, I need a word with you."

The captain's quarters were on the opposite side of the ship. Once the door slid closed and they were quite alone, the Prothean reached out impassively with a naked hand and touched Shepard's face.

The captain of the Normandy went pale but remained composed.

Javik's eyes bored into Shepard's. "You will return it to them, won't you."

"And you don't like it."

"When we do not know of their intent?" The Prothean pointed angrily towars the medical bay. "You just saw what we have in there."

"You know what the stakes are, Javik. If we discovered a race found about us and ran experiments on our kin we'd go ballistic."

"Yes, you would, I know. But if my race discovered someone could have learned more about us and did not for the sake of 'peace', we would think them weak."

A deep breath. "You're correct," Shepard conceded. "You still have DNA and tissue samples, of course."

"Yes. My medical officer saw to that when he was trying to get it to breathe again. I will be keeping some of those aboard for backup."

"Nothing against that." Even so, however dangerous, you would deem it better to keep the thing, and take it apart... After a quick mental query the implants reported that the current Citadel time was 03:41 AM. Not the best time to ask the Council for a ruling. "We have a small time window to settle this. I'll take this to Mikhailovich and Cirron."

The relentless eyes did not veer off Shepard's. "Why take this to someone else when you have already made up your mind?"

"You just proved a point I missed. I'd rather not miss any more."

Back on the Normandy, Shepard ordered EDI and Joker to make haste to the relay and called for a brainstorming session on the conference room. After the crux of the issue was outlined to the rest of the team, opinions were split:

"Study it," Garrus proposed on the spot. "Keep it on life support for as long as you can, and when it recovers, return it to them. I know," he fell back preemptively before Liara savaged him, "I know, we know nothing about their anatomy, not to say about giving them proper medical attention, but in my book, better safe than sorry."

"If so, why wait?" Miranda asked rhetorically. "Just euthanize it. Judging from their suit their technology isn't all that advanced in comparison to ours. It only had a short-range emergency beacon. The survival gear was nothing special."

"Remember what Javik said on his report," Tali objected. "This alien is part of a faction involved on a limited conflict with two others. Their technical level was remarkably low for a space-faring species. Prothean-arbitrated conflicts imposed substandard equipment on the participants. It appears to be the case."

"Another reason then," Lawson persisted. "This is only a member of a subservient race. Simple DNA testing will provide valuable scientific data, yes, but an autopsy would yield actually useful strategic intelligence. What if their masters -let's suppose it's the Inusannon for the sake of simplicity for a moment- keep some measure of control over them via implants or some biological means or another? They do have of some kind implants according to the medical report."

Liara was visibly troubled. "I want to agree with you, Miranda," she manifested, "but there are too many unknowns here. We know absolutely nothing about this race, or its masters, if they have any. I'm worried about the precedent this sets. You only get to make a first impression once. That's a truth that never gets old, and somehow people keeps finding ways of forgetting it."

The brunette girl bowed her head, accepting that the Asari's argument was solid. "You make a point, but still I believe the gains outweigh the risks. The story could hurt us if it got out. And no, Liara, some stories never get out." She held her gaze.

Shepard started going around the table. "Tali, you agree with Liara."

The Quarian nodded uneasily. "For what it may be worth, my Legion-the geth AI on my suit," she explained for those who did not understand, "cannot decide on this issue."

"Not an easy choice to make," Garrus assented.

"Ash?"

"Skipper, I'm a soldier, not a thinker," she excused herself. "I do the dirty work and leave the brain-hurting stuff to better informed people who know what they're doing," she added deadpan.

"Even if I were to accept that sometime, I wouldn't today."

"Let it go then. Cheerleader here's got a point," -she used Jack's word to refer to Miranda- "but Liara's got a more important one: you get to make a first impression only once."

"Even if some stories never get out."

"Skipper," she stared at Shepard in the eye, "sometimes what you are in the dark is what tips the scale one side or the other. You ought to know that."

"James?"

The bulky trooper shrugged. "You're going to thrust me into the limelight if try to dodge the bullet, right? Hand it over to the eggheads."

"Just like that."

Vega bowed his head once. "Don't have anything to say that hasn't been said already. Other than that I like Garrus' idea. We can wait for it to die on its own instead of getting blood in our hands unnecessarily."

"Krayt? I have yet to hear your opinion on this."

The Drell was slow to speak. He blinked twice, resting his chin on his hands. "Captain Shepard," he asked, "how familiar are you with the name of Ivan Yefremov?"

It was as if someone had smacked the Spectre in the head. "Twentieth-century Soviet science-fiction writer. His works were mandatory reads on the Rio de Janeiro curricula. Why?"

"I'll quote something of his." Krayt's eyes went dreamy and his voice acquired an unearthly echo for a brief while: "'We have come before you from our galaxy and into yours. We have not killed, have not looted, have not colonized. We present ourselves before our sister intelligences with hands untainted by blood'. He wrote those words as part of his magnum opus, which was coincidentally called 'Andromeda'. I'm afraid the translation is lousy, but this is the best I have been able to find so far. Originals are very hard to find." He stared at Shepard. "No civilization in our galaxy has lived up to those ideals."

The speaker rang: "Captain, we're within hailing distance of the Khar'Shan."

"Thanks, EDI. Call Mikhailovich and please ask him to come aboard." Shepard looked up. "Thank you for your views, people. I'm releasing you to your duties."

Krayt bowed his head respectfully and left. The rest of the people assembled remained on their places for a while still.

"That was... humbling," Garrus muttered. He felt dirty.

"Unexpected," Miranda agreed.

Shepard did not stay. On the way to the lift, Trayvon reported that the Admiral had agreed to the request and would be arriving at the Normandy within the next half an hour, once he had finished repositioning his forces and the Quarian-Geth reinforcements that had arrived from the other side of D9. The N7 checked the map: the newcomers had not changed course yet. That would leave them almost one hour and a half before the aliens made contact.

Once the door to the captain's quarters closed behind Shepard's back, a long-drawn sigh echoed against the walls. Alina was fast asleep, her long and serene breathing a much needed source of tranquility. The only care the captain of the vessel had before crashing on the bed face-first was not making noise enough to wake her up.

Keeping the brains from thinking into something can wear down even the strongest of wills. It had taken all of Shepard's discipline to conduct the session with no one being the wiser after the -in this case, absolutely truly- mind-shattering revelations Javik had imparted via his extraordinary gift. Those were not, indeed, the Inusannon, but one of many subservient races. And the masters were not far.

The N7 could not wait for Liara and Miranda to cross that door-and they finally did, as one. "Shepard?" The Asari asked on the spot upon seeing the limp form on the bed. "What else was there?"

"Miranda. Liara. Please, come here... I'm too tired to talk." The limp form struggled on the bed to sit cross-legged, palms open and resting over the knees. "Please."

Liara nodded with an understanding Miranda envied. "Yes, Shepard." She sat next to and clasped hands with her spouse. "I'm here for you." With those words, their eyes met, and the two lost themselves into each other.