Sunlight sizzled between pools of shadow cast by piles of ancient masonry. It was easy to be awed - to tread the same paths their ancestors had once, surrounded by the things they had constructed beneath Dholen's baleful glare. But Kal'Reeger Vas Lestiak wasn't much one for sentimentalities, especially when they were sitting on a hornet's nest.
He darted between shifting shadows, limiting his exposure to the sun's radiation as much as possible, rifle clutched in one hand. In these sorts of conditions even quarian shielding would melt away in seconds, leaving him all too vulnerable.
The ruins were silent except for the soft sigh of wind through the ancient city.
His Marines were scattered in a hemispherical perimeter - a handful of sentries watching out for geth while their brothers and sisters in arms slept, swallowed down tubes of nutripaste or slept, propped up against crumbling walls. For the most part the geth didn't bother with patrols - their terrifying reputation was enough to keep non-quarians way - but a single geth unit finding them would mean the entire planet would be aware of their presence.
Kal's team was well-drilled and well-equipped, but if the geth came after them in numbers they'd all die sooner or later.
Even their ship, hidden in orbit, was really only protected by secrecy. The geth didn't keep much of their fleet in the system, but even one cruiser would eat the Jelarian for lunch. Not for the first time he wondered exactly was so fascinating about Dholen that the admirality would risk so many lives for some data.
Then he efficiently discarded the thoughts. He was a grunt, a pointed gun. The admirality had to think of fourteen million lives and the continuity of their species and culture. If they thought the data was needed, he'd get it.
Or well, he'd protect Tali'Zorah while she got it.
Do everything you can to bring her home safe. The instruction had come from Admiral Gerrel rather than her father, Admiral Rael, but he'd taken one look at the man and thought that he'd better come back with Tali still breathing or not come back at all.
It helped that she was a lot kinder than her father. She'd made an effort to learn the Marines' names and listen to his advice instead of just dismissing them as a bunch of dumb grunts like some engineers and scientists could. Sometimes after they'd finished discussing the security procedures on the way here, she'd told him about her adventurous Pilgrimage, fighting alongside the human Systems Alliane against the geth.
Now Kal would make sure she got home not because her father would probably have him spaced if he didn't, but because the mind behind that faceplate was something else. Something the Migrant Fleet would need, more than one man with a gun.
He ducked into the nearest building where the science team was set up, studying Dholen and its effects on Haestrom.
"Ma'am."
Tali'Zorah looked up from her work, nimble fingers pausing on ancient circuitry. "Oh, hello Kal. Is something wrong?"
He tilted his head in a no. "Just wondering how much longer you estimate before we'll exfil. Thinking I might send out a small patrol, make sure no geth sneak up on us."
"A day, if we can get our readings finished before tonight." She spread her hands in uncertainty.
"Understood, ma'am. I'll send out a small team."
He ducked back outside, stepping past a snoring Vern'Kalla, to where Team Leader Liyah'Nar Vas Lestiak was resting with her carbine across her lap and her head tilted back to stare up into the clear sky. She'd always been deeply moved whenever they walked through the ruins of their ancestors.
"Liyah."
She straightened, "Yessir?"
"Take your team and do a sweep - carefully. Make sure we don't have any drones patrolling nearby. Two hours maximum - after that and I'll assume something's happened."
Her luminious eyes blinked behind her pale blue visor. He didn't have to spell out that no cavalry would be coming. They'd run these missions together before. "Yessir."
She rose to her feet and started collecting the three other members of her team - none of them particularly pleased to have been ordered to patrol, Jael complaining he was just in the middle of a game he was definitely going to win against Tehn. A quick glance at their game told Kal that he was very wrong about that, but he just waved the private's complaints off. They all had their duties to complete.
Then it was back to waiting and watching.
Two hours came and went.
He took to pacing in front of the doorway leading to the science team. Where are you, Liyah?
His answer came three hours after her departure and not in the way he wanted. His comms crackled, hissed.
Tehn, voice taut and grim. "-they're here. At least a platoon - armature. Team Leader Liyah is dead. I'll buy you as much time as possible. Keelah se'lai."
His gut clenched into a hard knot, face falling. Liyah had been a good Team Leader - one that could've made it to Squad Leader within the next few years. Her loss was another wound left by the geth.
"On your feet," he snarled, grabbing the nearest private. He still had two teams and himself - nine Marines. They might not be able to stop the geth, but they'd make them pay for every spilled drop of quarian blood, "Prepare for contact - enemy strength is estimated at a platoon."
Kal didn't have to say what they all knew - even if they managed to destroy the geth platoon, more would come. He let their Team Leaders start to get everyone sorted and ducked back into the science team's room.
"Tali, you need to get into the back room. Seal it behind you - we'll collapse the pillar outside over the front door-"
She shook her head frantically, "Kal, I can help, I can fight. You know I can."
He bowed his head. Respect, resignation. "I know you can." Tali'Zorah had killed more geth than some Marine squads put together.
"I can't just hide while you die." she said softly, eyes darting bright behind her facemask.
"But I have my orders and you have yours." His voice was gently but resolute. He wouldn't let the geth through while he still drew breath.
She paused, but then she was gone, disappearing deeper into the building. Kal breathed out, grabbed a rocket launcher leant against a wall for just this situation, and dashed back out into Haestrom's heat.
Any warship should have a gym, just like any Marine base or outpost ended up with one, but sadly it hadn't seemed to be on Cerberus' priorities - unlike leather seats and wall-size fish tanks. Civilians.
Luckily, Operative Taylor was a more evolved person and had set up a makeshift one up in a corner of the flight deck. Racks of weights, foam mats over the cold, hard steel deck. She'd still have to run circutis of the flight deck for cardio, but that'd been same on the real Normandy.
Sometimes Charles had joined her, red-faced and puffing as he attempted to keep up with her.
She bit her lip, focusing on her form as she went through bicep curls. Focusing only on the satisfying burn of pushing herself. Not on Charles, not on the nightmares of the ship splitting open around her, not on the fact that she was using weights far heavier than she would've before Alchera.
Reading the reports, reading about bone and muscle weave, cybernetics, all of it - it was still something very different to feel it. Feel how weights she would've once strained to lift felt like nothing. Feel how she had to pull her punches when sparring.
She felt like an interloper in someone else's body. She'd never thought she'd miss the acid scars, but they'd been their own kind of testament. Akuze happened, she'd survived. But now they were gone and her body was a clean slate.
Lawson wouldn't get missing scars.
Shepard finished the set and let the weight thunk to the deck with a metallic ring. Sweat prickled across her forehead and down her spine. The deck hummed softly with the sound of Rolston's tools as he worked on the Kodiak. Something about a coil, something she hadn't bothered to pretend she understood. She'd never pretended to be an engineer or mechanic.
She dropped to the floor and began gritting out push ups. She'd never enjoyed them that much, reminded too much of Gunny Ellison - except as a way to show off to women on shore leave after her marriage had broken down.
Ash wouldn't be impressed. Hell, she'd probably grin at her and try to beat her count.
Shepard shoved the thought away. She'd always thought that somehow, eventually, they'd find a way to make it work, Alliance be damned. When she'd imagined the hazy future she'd always imagined Ash in it.
But those dreams had always relied on Ash wanting to meet her there. She wasn't sure how to start mourning that future. With Rita she'd seen the end coming a long time before her wife had fallen into bed with another woman; the distance, the long silences between emails, the hard words - are you trying to get yourself killed? I don't know you anymore. What about me? What about us? There'd been nothing like that with Ashley. Just the sharp knife of two years and all the love Shepard still felt no longer had anywhere to go.
In that moment on Horizon she'd known that if she really tried, if she laid it all on the table, that Ashley might have been convinced. But she would have had to tip her hand to Miranda about her deal with Coyle, or pick at all of Ash's resentments and doubts and -
Ash deserved better than to be manipulated and Shepard had to see this mission through. The choice had come up - love or duty, and Shepard had chosen duty. Maybe the Illusive Man had really managed to tie those strings onto her after all, or maybe she'd always be the woman who'd sacrificed her friends on Elysium.
"Commander, we are receiving a hail from the Migrant Fleet. Admiral Rael'Zorah Vas Rayya has requested to speak with you." EDI's voice was as smooth as ever.
Shepard wasn't sure what exactly set that prickle of revulsion down her spine whenever the AI spoke - that every AI she'd met had tried to kill her before and Cerberus was playing with fire, or that EDI was in a real sense a slave.
Shepard racked the weights and stretched, wincing as she rolled her shoulder. "I'll take the call in my quarters in fifteen."
Tali twisted her hands together, standing in the middle of the unfamiliar mess hall, surrounded by curious strangers. All of them human. All of them Cerberus. She'd never thought she would ever willingly step aboard a Cerberus vessel - but this was Shepard. The first non-quarian to treat her fairly, to trust her.
"He'll be okay?" Tali asked anxiously.
Shepard had her arms crossed. For the last hour they'd waited for news as Chakwas operated on Squad Leader Kal'Reeger. Tali didn't know if she could bear it if he died as well. All the scientists, all the Marines, the ship the admirality had sent them on - all gone. All of that bloodshed and for what? Sensor readings.
The admirals had started on a speech about how she should return to the Fleet as soon as possible before she'd cut them off, consequences be damned. She couldn't do it. She couldn't live shoulder to shoulder with the mates and children of dead Marines and dead scientists. She couldn't pretend the Reapers weren't coming. She couldn't leave Shepard again.
"Chakwas said his injuries weren't too serious," Shepard said. Her voice was that even calm that Tali had always found soothing, even in the midst of battle. She looked better than on Freedom's Progress. Her face no longer had a gaunt cast, she'd regained muscle and the red gleam in her eyes had faded to a familiar brown - except when the light hit her just right. "And if there's any human doctor that can treat a quarian properly, it's her."
Part of Tali still felt like if she looked away too long, Shepard might fade away and she would be back with the Fleet, alone with a grief her father didn't understand or try to.
"I know," Tali said, and then because it was only now truly sinking in that Emilia Shepard was alive, she grabbed the human woman around the waist in a tight hug. Shepard went very still, surprise flashing across her face. Tali very nearly backpedaled, tripping over an apology, but then Shepard returned the hug, hand firm on her shoulder.
"I'm glad you're okay," Shepard said quietly, "I was worried I wouldn't get to you in time."
Tali stepped back, ducking her head. "How did you know where I was?"
Shepard's arrival had been very timely.
"Your father," she replied, looping her thumbs through her belt.
"My...father?"
"Yeah. He said the Migrant Fleet had lost contact with you and your team."
"He asked a human for help?" Rael'Zorah had never been trusting of other species. He'd certainly not understood why Tali had been reluctant to end her Pilgrimage and leave the Normandy.
Shepard shrugged, "I don't think he wanted to, but," she waved a hand at the sleek metal of the ship around them, "he doesn't have a stealth ship."
Tali glanced around. "So...rebuilding of the Normandy. Creepy?"
Shepard's lips twitched. "A little creepy."
The door to the medbay hummed and they both turned expectantly.
"Kal'Reeger will be fine," Chakwas informed them, "I've repaired the lacerations and given him antibiotics to deal with the infection. He's sleeping now, but he should be back on his feet in forty-eight hours, barring any complications."
"Oh, Ancestors be thanked," Tali breathed out, relief soaking through her.
"Tough bastard," Shepard said approvingly. On the shuttle ride back from Haestrom she'd called him a good Marine. High praise from the Commander.
"Thank you," Tali told Chakwas earnestly.
"Just the job, my dear," the doctor replied warmly, "I do hope you're staying."
"Tali is going to be our new chief engineer, if she wants to be," Shepard jumped in.
"Really?" It burst free of her before she could stop it.
"No one knows the Tantalus core better than you do. Except maybe Adams and well," Shepard grimaced, "I doubt he'll be joining us."
"What about Cerberus?" She coudln't imagine a human supremacist organisation would be okay with having an alien in charge of the engineering department.
Shepard shrugged. "Cerberus can deal with it. It's my mission. Do you want me to introduce you to the engineering crew?"
"I'd like that." A thought crossed her mind and she scowled beneath her faceplate. "Am I going to have to deal with that AI?" She spat the word.
"I have numerous functions to assist the engineering department." The AI interrupted.
She glared at the ceiling. "I don't need an AI to tell me how to do my job, machine."
"I provide diagnostic tools and recommendations. The final decisions will remain your purview."
"Don't talk to me unless I ask you a question or the drive core is about the explode," Tali snapped.
"As you wish, Tali'Zorah." Could an AI sound disapproving?
Tali turned her glare on Shepard, even though she knew the other woman couldn't see her face behind her face mask.
The human shrugged apologetically. "Not my idea."
"I'll put up with it...for you."
"Thanks. And Tali?" Shepard rested a hand on her shoulder. "I really am very glad you're here."
"I'm glad I'm here too," she admitted. She had a great deal to talk to Shepard about - Cerberus for one thing, but she wasn't going to say anything until she was certain they wouldn't be overheard. Her suit had already picked up the signatures of listening devices. They weren't amongst friends here, except for a handful of people.
When the time came, Tali would hand Shepard the grenade to blow Cerberus to pieces.
The shrill screech of her doorbell jolted Ashley awake, cutting through the haze of sleep like a knife - and setting her hangover headache to pounding against the inside of her skull. She groaned, rubbing a hand across her face, eyes gritty. She'd fallen asleep on her couch, still dressed in last night's jeans and shirt.
They'd hit the bars last night, the whole lot of them, drinking and telling stories about Lewandowski. All of it in present tense, because there were more than a few of Ash's Raiders that weren't quite ready to admit that he was probably dead, that weren't ready to admit this was another Raider memorial.
Whatever the Collectors were doing with the abducted humans, it was unlikely they had any value for human life. Ash could already feel the weight of Ski's life and death settling on her shoulders, settling in amongst the 2/12th and the Normandy. Shepard had told her that the weight was the price of command and that all you could do was keep living to honour them. She wasn't sure she wanted to take any of Shepard's advice anymore, even the good bits.
The doorbell rang again.
Ash grumbled, shoving herself up and half stumbling to the door, running a quick hand through her hair. She keyed the door open. "Yeah?"
"Ash!" Abby was already launching herself at her, squeezing the breath right out of her chest, before she jerked back with a wrinkled nose. "You look like crap."
"I'm hungover," Ash complained, "I didn't realise you were on Arcturus."
"I did email you. And try to call you," Abby rolled her eyes. She'd dyed her hair again - this time a bright purple - and cut since the last time Ash had seen her. It spiked in every which direction, in a way that made Ash's repressed NCO twitch. "I've got a conference on Arcturus for the next few days. I thought we should catch upt before you go back to travelling the galaxy."
They'd always joked that Ash had gotten 70% of the family's collective athletic ability, and Abby had gotten 70% of the brains - and all the eccentricity. Ash was used to smiling and nodding when Abby got into detailed conversations about long dead humans. Her thesis title had been enough to make her head hurt.
"Sorry. I've been busy," she stepped back to let Abby in.
"Right," Abby smiled. "With your secret agent stuff."
"Special operations stuff," Ash corrected, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Abby noticed, because of course she did. "Is everything okay?"
It definitely wasn't, but Ash didn't know where to start - even if she was even able to discuss it. National security took priority over her need to vent to her sister.
"My last mission - it didn't go too well," she settled on. Seeing the flash of concern crossing her younger sister's face - Abby wasn't as anxious as Lynne was, but it was impossible for her family to not worry given her line of work - she hastily added. "I'm not hurt, don't worry."
Abby studied her face in a way that was frighteningly similar to their mother, looking for the lie. "You look..."
"Like crap. You've said," she rolled her eyes, turning away. "Coffee? What time does your conference start?"
"Coffee sounds great - and not until tomorrow. I was hoping I could have dinner with you and Gabe. Sister bonding time, y'know?" Abby set her bag down on the couch.
Ash felt her shoulders tighten as she turned to her coffee machine. "I'd like that - but Gabriel won't join us. We broke up."
He'd come by the day before to get his stuff, stiff and distant. She'd looked at him and felt tired.
"Oh Ash," Abby's voice was gentle, "What happened?"
"It's...complicated." No easy way to say 'my boyfriend broke up with me because I'm still in love with my ex who I thought was dead but was really just a terrorist.' Good times.
"And how are you feeling?"
Ash turned, coffee cups in hand. "I'm not sure yet."
It was the truth. She wanted to miss Gabriel - but what she kept thinking about was the Horizon sun on Shepard's familiar face, the way it had felt to walk away from her. And Shepard - she didn't know how she felt about Shepard. She knew how she should feel as a good Alliance Marine, how Captain Antella and General Mwangi would want her to feel. But part of her still whispered that Shepard had also been a good Alliance Marine. That Shepard had loved her. She had to have.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" Abby took one of the cups from her. Abby had always been the one person she could be most honest with, the one she didn't have to be the strong one for. Her mother had needed her, and Lynne worried so much, and Sarah was still a kid. Abby was just Abby.
"I know."
"Alright. I love you, you know." Abby never pushed like their mother did, something she felt a sudden surge of gratitude for.
"Yeah, yeah, I love you too."
They drank from their cups in silence, Ash swallowing down some painkillers from the kitchen drawer.
"So, Sarah and Thomas have set a date."
Senior Hospitalman Thomas McCall - a handsome, blue-eyed twenty-one year old sailor who looked at Sarah like she hung the stars in the sky, and the last sort of guy she would've guessed Sar would go for. Sarah was all sharp edges and a low-burning resentment towards the military that had broken their grandfather, killed their father and eaten so much of Ash's time - but she'd chosen a military man with a marshmallow for a heart. Ash had gotten two minutes into her Scary Big Sister speech and hadn't had the heart to continue.
"Yeah, I read the email."
"Are you going to come?" Abby asked bluntly.
Ash massaged her aching temples. "I'm going to do my best."
Old guilt sat like a stone in her gut. She hated missing important family events and there'd been a lot of that. And it wasn't like she could tell her family what she was doing. About the Reapers.
"Okay," Abby said simply - but there was just a hint of disappointment clinging to the words.
Ash opened her mouth and then closed it. She wasn't going to make promises she couldn't keep. Ma would understand - just like she had with her Dad's insistence that she raise them on colonies far from his postings. Sarah wouldn't.
Her omnitool chimed - priority message. Ash flicked the message and frowned at the terse words, before she started tapping out a message to her sergeants. "Hey, sorry - I gotta go in for a meeting. Make yourself at home, okay? I'll add you to the security system. Don't even think about a hotel - my spare room is perfectly fine. I'll be back soon."
Abby flapped a hand. "No problem. Go save the galaxy."
The Quarian Military:
Quarian society, despite their biological frailties, is relatively militarised, with each ship overseen by a captain whose word is final and policing conducted by military personnel. This is in contrast to their early history - warfare on Rannoch was uncommon and rapidly automated, and unlike humanity, planetary unification was achieved before quarians began to settle other planets. Before the geth uprising, the Rannochian government kept a relatively isolationist stance, rarely partaking in aggressive military action. Threats to the quarian people, however, were often swiftly and ruthlessly destroyed with advanced weaponry and cyberwarfare. Most infantry tasks were conducted by small groups of quarian military personnel who controlled large groups of drones and later geth. The result was that pre-war Rannoch was not particularly militaristic and those who did go into the military were more like tech support than infantry.
However, the fall of Rannoch brought swift and far-reaching changes to quarian society. Many of those who survived the war were the crews of warships. At first due to necessity and then due to practice, the admirals began to govern the survivors. As time went on, some demilitarization was achieved - civilian councils were elected on each ship to advise the captain and the Conclave was formed to oversee the Flotilla's day to day governance. However, the admirals still have considerable emergency powers.
The Fleet Marines are responsible for internal policing and patrolling of quarian ships, and for any naval infantry tasks. Quarian Marines excel at skirmishing and raiding, using drones and cyberwarfare suites to increase their punch, but generally fare poorly in conventional battles due to their fragility. Unlike the Systems Alliance Marine Corps, all superiors - NCO or officers - are referred to as 'sir' or 'ma'am.'However, it isn't unknown for Marines to simply use each other's names rather than rank.
Quarian Marine ranks include:
Private
Team Leader
Squad Leader
Platoon Assistant
Junior Lieutenant
Senior Lieutenant
Commandant