"You're going to do great things, Nicole."

She looked up from the plastic spaceship in her hands, into her brother's face. He was handsome, but slightly pudgy, and he was constantly wiping red hair away from his glasses. He was smiling, and one arm was around her shoulder. At that age, he was her entire world.

"Like fly a spaceship?"

She felt her brother shrugging; her eyes had turned back to the model. It wasn't finished yet. There was a tiny piece that she knew was missing. Details always stuck out to her.

"Nah. I guess, maybe. I mean you're going to help people. What's in you … you're gonna change the world."

"How do you know that?" Nicole asked, as she squirmed her way out of his arm to scrounge around in the bottom of the model's box. Her fingers scraped past wrapping and instruction manuals until they caught on hard plastic. She retrieved the strut triumphantly and waved it in front of her brother's face. "See! Told you."

Her brother was still smiling, but she thought it wasn't about the model.

"You want to put it on the model?" He asked. She started to reach for the glue, then hesitated.

"Would you like to?" She held out the small piece to him, and his smile crinkled.

"No, Nicky, you go on ahead." He reached out and ruffled her hair, a familiar, comforting gesture. That felt like home like nothing else did. "I love you, sis'. You amazing, wonderful little girl."

She wondered why he was saying that, but then the world changed, and everything shifted….

"I need you to do this for me," her brother gasped, frantically taking her hands in his. "Okay? I need you to promise me."

Promise what?

"Promise me you'll survive." Tears slipped down his face, and she saw a thousand reflections in them: her own face, batarian faces, the face of a blue-eyed turian that she'd killed…. "Please."

"I promise! But—"

"Just do that, and everything will be okay, all right? Everything will be okay."

Every muscle in her body tensed when she woke, sheets clutched in her fists. Quickly she rose to a sitting position on the couch and looked up to the bed, where Liara was: still sleeping. Nicole let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and took a short, quiet gulp of air, as she wiped her hair out of her face. She hadn't remembered her brother so clearly in years. She'd even been able to see his face….

She was used to nightmares. They were always some slurry of her memories coming back to haunt her, but usually she only dreamt of death: of Mindoir, or Akuze, or of Saren. The Reapers. She hadn't had any dreams about dying, which somehow filled her with more dread than if she did. What if she was just some elaborate clone, implanted with memories up before her death?

No. I remember what dying was like. I just haven't had any nightmares about it.

After all, you only had nightmares of the things you feared.

She afforded herself no more than one minute to dwell on her dreams. There was work to do.

With mechanical efficiency she extracted a new change of clothes from one of the wall-slits—moving silently so as not to disturb Liara—and went into the bathroom, where she showered, changed, flossed, and brushed her teeth. She had to remind herself not to brush too hard; for years, her gums had bled. Today she wore the black combat mesh, one of the white tank tops Miranda had given her, her leather jacket, and a pair of jeans. She'd started wearing the tanks out of spite, but she'd grown bizarrely fond of them. She realized, with some surprise, that she didn't hate Miranda. She barely even distrusted her.

Mostly, she thought of her as naïve. Intelligent, competent, skilled … and naïve. Despite everything she still wanted to believe the best of the one person, the one organization, that she was clinging to. Nicole could appreciate that. Still thought it was naïve, and more dangerous than Miranda herself realized—but Nicole understood the impulse towards blind faith. Better than anyone.

When she emerged, fully clothed, back out into the main room, Liara was still sleeping. Stealthily Nicole returned to the couch where she'd slept and folded the sheet she'd slept beneath and returned it to the wall repository that would clean it while she was away. She retrieved her eyepatch from the lounge table and affixed it to her eye. Her vision was completely unchanged when the HUD wasn't enabled, which felt very strange; she looked to the left and was able to see the black ridge of the patch. It felt almost alien on her face—part of her brain was telling her there was nothing in front of her left eye, but another was saying "No, there's something there." She shook her head to clear it. No sense freaking herself out over the thing that was supposed to stop her face from lighting on fire.

She never knew what to do herself after she'd woken up. Normal people drank coffee—even asari and salarians drank coffee. She'd never liked the taste. She was just thinking that she should probably go down to the mess hall to get some food and terrify some Cerberus crewmen in the process when a faint beeping sound emitted from Liara's computer desk. Glancing back at Liara—still asleep—Nicole walked over to the desk and scanned over the dizzying array of computer screens to find what was making that damned signal. Nicole had no idea how long Liara had been sleeping for, but she never seemed to get enough sleep anymore. If the beeping woke her….

Then she saw what the message was, and it became eminently clear why Liara had set her computer to make a noise when that particular message was received.

Ah, shit.

XXX

This ship was, bar-none, the biggest goddamn waste of time in his life. When he'd signed on he'd figured Cerberus would have him working his ass off just to get whatever mileage he had left. Instead he'd been spending his time gathering dust and reflecting on memories. He'd just been about to take out his contract to see if there was a waste of goddamn time clause, when he'd gotten a notification on his omnitool, straight from Shepard—or the Red Dragon, or whatever. Meet in the conference room.

So he went. Not like there was anything better to do on this goddamn ship. Except watch to see whatever new freak Shepard had dragged on board and stashed in the engineering deck. First a half-mad biotic, then, from what Zaeed could tell, a krogan lab experiment. The lab experiment had wandered up to the mess hall, but so far he hadn't knocked on Zaeed's door. Thank fucking god. Pubescent krogan somehow managed to be a bigger handful than the warlords twice their size.

By the time he arrived in the conference room, everyone else—even the junior krogan—was already there, either seated at the table or standing around looking like they didn't have anything to do. The crazy biotic was lounging against one corner, her back to the wall, her eyes locked square on Shepard. Well, Zaeed couldn't blame her for that cautionary instinct. Shepard was in her armour looming over the table, and she was wearing some kind of black eyepatch with a little red hologram on it that made it look like a raptor's eye. Behind her, the 'Caretaker' stood utterly still. Zaeed figured they were going for an effect, and if he was honest, it was working. Gave him the creeps.

"Glad to see you could all make it," Shepard said, very softly. Zaeed took his seat, next to the black Cerberus boy. The Cerberus guard edged away from him, and Zaeed shrugged and looked at Shepard.

"Arthritis," Zaeed grunted, by way of explanation. Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Slowin' me down. Little solid action usually helps burn the rust off these old bones, but lately…." Zaeed let the sentence hang. Truthfully he did have arthritis in just about every joint he had. It was a son of a bitch, but a few little pills took the edge off. Except when he was sleeping.

"Well, you'll be getting your wish. The Caretaker will explain." And then Shepard stepped back from the table and crossed her arms, as the Caretaker walked forward and summoned her omnitool. A holoscreen appeared in the center of the table suspended in mid-air, showing what looked like an aerial map of a colony world.

"This is Horizon," The Caretaker said, in a low, forbidding voice that somehow struck Zaeed as being not entirely as dark as it should've been. "A human colony world in the Shadow Sea. Thanks to a Shadow Broker agent stationed planetside, we received word ten minutes ago that a foreign ship had been detected in orbit. A ship with a very distinct signature."

"The Collectors?" That was Lawson, as shrewd as an old tomcat. She might sell the "fanatic bureaucrat" line, but Zaeed saw through that bullshit. Whether she'd admit it, she was a soldier, and a damn good one, plain and simple. Probably a bit too loyal for her own good, but most soldiers were.

"Yes," The Caretaker said. "Their ship was tracked at the edge of their system when we received word. The Dragon has already sent a flight path to Mr. Moreau, and we will be able to intercept them not long after they've entered the system." Behind her, Shepard uncrossed her arms and walked forward, smooth as a snake uncoiling. It was scary, how a woman her size could move so fluidly. So effortlessly. Arthritis in his bones reminded him how much of a gift that was.

"We have a flight time of three and a half hours, lucky enough. Horizon has two primary colonized zones, and if our calculations are right, then we're going to be landing about twenty minutes after the Collectors do. Dr. Solus, you've got something whipped up for those Seeker swarms?"

Those what? Zaeed had been left out of the goddamn loop on that one. Apparently sensing that not everyone on board the ship had been filled in, the salarian doctor launched into an explanation so rapid that Zaeed would've thought someone was holding a gun to his head, if he hadn't heard Mordin talking a few days earlier. Zaeed kept wondering if he was high.

"Seeker swarms: small insects deployed by Collectors to incapacitate abductees before landing." Mordin tapped his own omnitool and projected an image of a grotesque brown insect about the size of a thumb. "Have been studying a specimen provided to me by Ms. Lawson," Mordin said, bowing deferentially to Miranda, "And have been able to devise an inoculation. Simple toxin, really, merely a combination of—"

"They get it, Mordin," Shepard said, raising a hand. "I've already had my shot, so that means the rest of you are getting one before you leave. As I said, there are two colonization zones, so we're going to have two strike teams: one led by myself, and another led by Garrus. Anyone have any problems with that?" Shepard searched the room with a look so foreboding that if anyone did have a problem with that, that problem had likely retreated halfway up its owner's asshole out of fright. "Good. Grunt, Miranda, and Jack, you'll be with me. Garrus, you're taking Zaeed, Jacob, and Kasumi. Garrus's squad is lighter on firepower, so if you get overwhelmed, signal for backup and we'll come running."

"I've got a question about that," Zaeed said, firing his mouth off before his brain had time to think any better. "Why'm I stuck with the turian and the two lightweights?"

"Lightweight?" Jacob said, sounding scandalized. Zaeed didn't bother looking at him.

"No offence, boy, but you're as intimidating as a puppy dog. And unless her plan is to talk the Collectors to death, I don't see how the thief's gonna be any fuckin' use."

"That's because she's not here to kill people," Shepard said sharply. "But she knows more about tech than anyone in this room, so I'm betting she'll be able to make herself useful. I'm putting you and Jacob with Garrus because I figure you two can follow orders. Am I wrong?"

"Oh, I'll march along," Zaeed grunted, "But the cowboy over there better not take any stupid fuckin' sentimental risks. I know how Archangel got cornered in a dive on Omega."

Vakarian bristled, but Shepard stopped him from making an ass of himself by speaking first.

"We're rescuing civilians. This entire mission is a sentimental risk, Zaeed, and you will play along. We land, we rescue civilians, we grab as much Collector tech as we can, and we get out. In that order. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal. Got one other question, though, if you don't mind."

"By all means," Shepard said. He wasn't sure if she was being dry; it was bloody hard to tell with that woman. He'd never seen a better poker face.

"We got this information from your Shadow Broker network, yeah?"

"That is correct."

"But it's the Illusive Man who put us on this Collector witch hunt, right? Or is my memory getting all fuzzy with old age?" No one said anything, so he went on. "So isn't it fucking funny that the Illusive Man hasn't come to you about any of this? Or do you figure he doesn't have eyes and ears on every human colony world, same as your boss does?"

There was a distinctly uncomfortable silence. Zaeed wondered who would break it: the biotic psychopath who hated Cerberus, or the biotic psychopath who loved Cerberus. It turned out to be the krogan.

"Who cares. A fight is a fight. Is there any way we can get there faster?"

"Not unless you get out and push," Shepard said, and for just a second—just a second—Zaeed swore the krogan looked as if he were actively considering the possibility. "Everyone, get Mordin to give you your booster shot and get suited up. Jacob, you'll need to help Grunt out in the armoury, he doesn't have any weapons yet."

Jacob exchanged a nervous glance between Shepard and the krogan, who rubbed his hands together and let out a very low laugh.

"Oh, and Zaeed," Shepard said, just as everyone was lining up to get Mordin's shot. "That question of yours is a very good one."

XXX

"Sooo … should I call you Mr. Vakarian? Archangel? Mr. Archangel?" Kasumi had found him in the forward weapons battery, after she'd recovered from the shot Mordin had stuck in her arm—which had hurt so much she'd wondered if it wasn't personal. Her arm was still sore where Mordin had injected it, but she supposed she'd take a sore arm over full-body paralysis. Vakarian himself was lounging against one wall with his assault rifle.

"Garrus will do fine," the turian huffed, as he went back to adjusting his assault rifle's targeting computer for what had to be the thousandth time. Kasumi keyed up a little turian emoji for her mask and set it to smile. Garrus grunted in what Kasumi optimistically decided was amusement.

"Well, as our fearless leader pointed out, I'm not very big on the shooting, stabbing … exploding side of things."

"We'll keep you covered," Garrus said, patting the side of his assault rifle. It was a large, angular monster of a weapon, some turian design that Kasumi felt absolutely no desire to more closely examine. "That's what this is for."

"Right. That was my other question, actually. About the others. Jacob seems like the heroic soldier type—especially when his shirt is off—but the other one—"

"Zaeed," Garrus supplied.

"Yeah, the guy doing a constant 'I'm the Grinch and it's Christmas eve' act. I'm not one hundred percent sure I'd trust him. I've heard of him before and he's not famous for his ability to play with others." Kasumi thought this was putting things very diplomatically.

"I've heard of him too. I'm the Archangel, remember? I'm pretty sure I'm the only person Santiago wants more dead than our Grinchy friend." Kasumi grinned, and quickly set her little turian emoji to start laughing, with those little frill-flange things going wild and everything.

"You know who the Grinch is?"

After a very long time, Garrus smiled.

"Would you believe there's a weird turian thing around Christmas? We've got these cultural liaison agencies trying to promote 'cross-species togetherness'." Garrus did little air-quotes around the phrase. "My people can't get enough of Christmas, for some reason."

"Neither can mine," Kasumi said dryly. She wondered how long it had taken the First Contact war being over before Santa Claus had spread his grasp to Palaven. "Well, at least you're not as stuffy as you pretend to be. How is it we haven't had a chance to speak until now?"

"I've been busy helping Nicole recruit maniacs," Garrus said dryly.

"Ooh, so it's Nicole, is it? Well, I assumed she trusted you quite a bit since you're the one in charge of the ground mission and all." Kasumi left out the fact that he was one of Nicole's co-conspirators on the 'Liara-is-the-Shadow Broker' thing. "You've known her ever since the hunt for Saren, right?"

"Yeah, we go back a bit," Garrus said, much more cautiously now. That was admirable. He wanted to protect his friend; although from what Kasumi could tell, Nicole Shepard was probably the person least in need of protection in the entire galaxy.

"From what I understand, she's saved both of our lives," Kasumi said, switching the emoji on her mask to a less emotive one. Turians considered it very rude to show facial expressions when discussing anything too serious. Vakarian snapped his assault rifle's visor shut and slung the weapon over his back. It hissed softly as it collapsed into its portable form.

"Yeah. So we're going to both do the job she expects of us. You have my word."

"A turian's word. Kind of a big deal," Kasumi said. She kept the emoji neutral as she added, "Well, for whatever it's worth, you have mine, too."

"The word of a thief." To Kasumi's surprise, Garrus smiled—that terrifying turian expression that exposed some of their teeth as their mandibles flared. She'd never get used to that. "A resurrected archangel and an honest thief. I like the sound of that."

"Hey! I never said I was honest," Kasumi said, though she changed her emoji hologram to the turian equivalent of a wink.

XXX

As they drew closer to Horizon, Liara felt unease growing in her heart. It wasn't a familiar sensation, and it wouldn't go away: a slow, twisting burning that wound tighter inside her with every second that passed by. Nicole had at least come back to the Dragon's Nest with her to get her equipment ready; checking and re-checking her sniper rifle, her assault rifle, her shotgun, and her pistol. With all of them slung over her armour—the sniper and assault rifle on her back, the shotgun behind her waist, and the pistol at her side—she looked like a walking arsenal. Then she started checking all the little pouches on her armour, pulling out small devices and examining them, or else attaching grenades to the utility belt around her midsection. All of that equipment should have made Liara feel safer. It didn't. Every time Nicole checked some new device, Liara couldn't help but think Goddess, I hope she doesn't need that.

"I should be going with you," Liara blurted, without thinking. Nicole looked back to her as she affixed the last of a set of small, plate-shaped grenades to her armour.

"Liara, if you go down there in armour you won't exactly be able to use those stilts. It's too much of a risk." Nicole's voice could sound so cold sometimes. Liara knew she didn't mean it—she'd never blame Nicole for it—but it could be almost alarming, to think of how little Nicole thought about her own safety. To think how easy it was for her to just switch feeling off. If Liara was honest, it scared her, because she'd come so damn close to that herself. She worried she was still in danger of that every day.

"I know, Nicole." But that feeling in her chest didn't budge one inch. "A part of me wishes I could just be some simple scientist again, forcing my way onto one of your missions. I know I can't." Liara realized she'd spun angrily away from Nicole as she'd talked, so she forced herself to turn back, and to walk towards her. Liara had almost expected to see nothing in Nicole's eyes—to see that cold, expressionless mask that she wore everywhere. But she didn't. Nicole's eyebrows were pressed slightly together, and her eyes themselves were sad. Nicole opened her mouth to speak but didn't say anything. "I lost you to them once, Nicole."

"You won't lose me to them again. The Normandy SR-2 is a much more advanced ship, it has armour that their weapons won't pierce so easily. And on the ground they're just like anything else, Liara." Nicole took Liara's arm in her hand, not as gingerly as she once might have. Even though Nicole was wearing armour, it felt comforting to feel the pressure of Nicole's hand against her skin, through the fabric of her sleeves. Nicole cracked half a smile. "I've killed a Reaper. How hard can these guys be?"

"I know. I'm not a child, and I'm not naïve. I'm just worried. I love you." Even now, there was a little start in Nicole's eyes, a tiny expression that Liara had finally figured out: surprise. "I love you, and when you go down there I can't help but feel frightened. Not even if you are the Saviour of the Citadel, the first human Spectre, the Red Dragon, or whatever. To me, you're an incredible woman, one who doesn't realize how precious she is. To me, you're just the woman I love."

And then she kissed her, leaning down on the stilts so that Nicole had to tilt her head up towards her. For one sweet, precious moment, she tried desperately to make Nicole understand—that Liara wasn't doubting her, or coddling her, or even asking her to stay. Just that it was hard. And that she wished she could be down there with her. That she wanted—needed—Nicole to understand that her life actually meant something. That her safety was the most important thing in the galaxy.

When their lips parted at last, Liara opened her eyes first. She always did that, almost greedily, wanting to see Nicole's face, with her eyelids fluttered close. She looked so tender, so beautiful, even vulnerable, in a way that she almost never did. And then Nicole's eyes snapped open and she stepped back. Nicole met Liara's gaze for just a moment, and then she looked away.

"I'll come back, Liara. I promise."

"You can't promise that."

"Yeah, well, I'm promising it, anyway. You give me something to come back for. That's more than I've ever had."

XXX

"Glyph, give me satellite," Nicole said, her voice cruel and sharp. He knew it was just because they were about to go into combat, but he couldn't help but be a little freaked out. Even after all this time, it was strange to watch your best friend disappear behind a mask. Both figuratively and literally. "All right, Garrus, you see this cluster here?" Nicole pointed to the spot on the hologram that matched the smaller development on Horizon. She'd summoned him up to the Dragon's Nest so they could figure out their plan of attack. Truthfully, he'd been stunned when she'd put him in command of an alternate team. But he supposed Ashley wasn't around anymore.

Guess I'll have to do.

"Yeah. That's the secondary development, right?"

"Affirmative. In the past, the Collectors have always attacked with a blanket strategy. They'll hit everywhere at once, just with lighter troops depending on population size. So there'll be a smaller, simultaneous attack occurring at this secondary settlement. That's what I want your squad to be handling. Hopefully, you'll be able to deal with whatever light presence the Collectors have, so Kasumi can get to work on any tech you find. It's going to be cramped in the Kodiak, so my squad are going to be dropping from orbit in a biotic cocoon. Kasumi's assured me that she can pilot the Kodiak, so she'll be taking your squad down. That all good?"

"Uh—sure, as long as your squad are comfortable with the thought of being dropped out of orbit," Garrus said, as evenly as he could. To his relief, Nicole just grinned.

"Of course they are. Miranda's a professional, Jack doesn't want to admit anything scares her, and Grunt's a krogan."

"Speaking of which—'Grunt'? Really?"

"Well, he's a krogan and he got to name himself," Nicole said dryly. "What would you expect?"

From up in her office, Liara suddenly spoke. Until just then, she'd been behind her holoscreens ever since Garrus had come up to the Nest. Just since he'd been there, he'd heard her system pinging at least four times. He didn't want to think about how much Liara had taken on by becoming the Broker.

"My father's father was a krogan, according to my mother," Liara said idly. Nicole, typically, was utterly unfazed, but Garrus spun around and stared.

"What? You're telling me you're a quarter krogan?!" Simultaneously and with equal amounts of exasperation, both Nicole and Liara said,

"That's not how it works."

"Oh, come on! So that's where you get it from!"

"Where I get what from?" Liara asked, dismissing the holoscreens in front of her. Garrus flexed his mandibles into a smile as she glared at him.

"You know, the stubbornness, the fixation, the itching to pick a fight. Krogan stuff."

"Since when do I 'itch to pick a fight'?" Liara demanded, sounding ludicrously scandalized. Garrus glanced to Nicole, who was busily pretending to examine Horizon's layout.

"Whatever you say, Shadow Broker," Garrus said wryly. Liara let out a snort of derision that would've made Garrus laugh if he weren't about to lead a rescue mission against beings that might as well have been the shadow spirits from children's stories. "Uh, Nicole, I do have one other concern, though."

"Yeah?" Now Nicole was actually examining the map of Horizon; you could tell because when she was pretending to do something, she actually looked like she was doing it, and when she was actually doing something, she looked like she was just sort of glaring at whatever innocent inanimate object had fallen in her path.

"You're going to be performing a biotic drop with Jack? She's not exactly a soldier."

"You're going to be evacuating civilians with Zaeed, and he's not exactly a philanthropist." Garrus supposed she had a point. "If I had my way, I'd have people like Ashley and Tali down there. But I don't. I've got a bunch of rejects, renegades, and mercenaries." Nicole affixed him with that unnatural, ice-cold stare. But he thought her features softened, just a little. "And I've got you. The one person down there I really trust." Nicole stopped, and grinned in that sardonic, half-terrifying way of hers. "Actually, I can probably trust Grunt to do exactly what he says he will, too. But you get the point, Garrus. No, I don't trust Jack, and I don't trust Zaeed, and I barely trust Miranda and Jacob. I definitely don't trust Kasumi, but I think she's a good person." There was that grin again. Slightly less scary this time. "But I trust you. You're a good man, and a good if I have to work with people I don't trust, then I'm glad I can at least work with you."

"Shepard, I—"

"Don't get emotional, Garrus, I'm bad at that," Shepard said dryly. She picked the eyepatch off of the lounge table and affixed it to her eye, as cables unspooled along her face and formed a mask. "Now let's get down to loading bay. I need to tell Jack she's air-lifting a krogan."

XXX

Everyone was in their armour. Even Kasumi had a bit of light armour plating on over her cloak. Nicole wondered if she was nervous. Kasumi could seem unflappable, but she didn't do this kind of thing for a living. Not like the rest of them. Grunt worried her, too—mostly, that he wouldn't go mad with battle-lust down there. She didn't think he was that kind of krogan, but if he was, she'd have to be the one to put him down. Zaeed could've been a concern, but there was no reason for him to go on a killing spree down there. Not a Blue Suns soldier in the system, unless one was unlucky enough to be vacationing down there.

Which left Jack. Jack, the wildcard. The girl who only respected Nicole because she was the biggest monster in the forest. Jack wouldn't have any trouble killing Collectors, but she'd also have a whole lot less trouble killing civilians than Nicole would've liked. That was why Jack was in her squad.

"Garrus has filled you all in?" Nicole asked. Zaeed, Jacob, and Kasumi nodded. As Nicole spoke through the filter of her new mask, her voice hissed and clicked at the end of each sentence. She wondered if Mordin had done that to retain the effect of her old mask. "Good. Get on the Kodiak and wait for my signal."

They all marched onto the Kodiak, leaving the loading bay feeling a little more empty. Nicole turned back to her owns quad, as they were. Two biotic women as powerful as a small nuke who absolutely hated each other, and an adolescent krogan who was about three days old. They couldn't see Nicole Shepard, the person. They needed the Red Dragon. That was the only thing Jack and Grunt would respect.

Miranda would know better, and part of that rankled Nicole. She didn't like the thought that someone knew her so well. She'd never liked it. But that wasn't Miranda's fault. That was Miranda's job. And if Nicole knew anything about Miranda, it was that she was going to do her damn job. That, and that she wasn't nearly as cold as she liked to pretend to be.

"Miranda, Jack, I'm assuming you're both capable of wrapping me and Grunt up in a biotic cocoon along with yourselves," Nicole said, giving them little chance to respond. Miranda straightened in a way that said 'Yes ma'am' and Jack smirked in a way that said 'Damn straight.' "Good. Jack, you'll be carrying Grunt. Miranda, you've got me."

"What, you don't trust me?" Jack asked, making her voice singsong and prodding. Nicole raised an eyebrow—then realized Jack probably couldn't notice, since the eyepatch was pinned over her left eyebrow. It wasn't until that moment that she realized when she raised one eyebrow, it was the left one.

With a minor spurt of annoyance, she thought that Miranda had probably known that before she herself had.

"No, Jack. I don't trust you. Which is why you're carrying Grunt. Because if you drop him, he's a krogan. And when he lands, he'll be an angry krogan." Next to Jack, Grunt rubbed his hands together and let out that low, thudding chuckle.

"Heh, heh, heh."

All that and a sense of comic timing, Nicole thought, resisting the urge to grin. She had to be the Dragon right now. Nothing else. Miranda looked at her, and nodded.

"We should consider the possibility that the Collectors will fire on us as we approach. Biotic cocoons absorb impact force, but they won't stop something as small as a bullet."

"You're right," Nicole said. She remembered the mask was obscuring her face, so she grinned anyway. Nicole's smile never reached her eyes, so they wouldn't notice. "Which is why we are going to be dropping very, very fast."

XXX

The Freedom had been Tobias's personal ship for something like six years. As much as it was just a narrow, black shell, with a pilot's chair that doubled as a sleeping pod, he had grown fond of it. It had no personal quarters; instead, the personal utilities were all routed to the cockpit. A little dinner tray would project onto his lap so he could eat tasteless ration packets. There was a toilet at one end of the cockpit which he tried very hard to never have to use. If he had to choose a word, it wouldn't be "spartan." If he had to choose a word, he'd choose "reckless." Only a suicidal idiot would pilot a ship without escape pods, without so much as a single pressure seal. If any part of the ship ruptured, he was dead. If anything on the Freedom broke, he broke with it.

It was a suicidal idiot's ship. Designed by an emotionless psychopath. Tobias wanted to be present for its destruction.

"I don't see why you're so sentimental. It was always an inadequate ship," Gabreau said flatly. You could tell when he was being honest with you, because there was no affectation. His voice barely changed in pitch. He looked ahead, to the scrapyard set up in space where they were tearing apart the Freedom, breaking it down for spare parts. Gabreau didn't waste anything, when his own vanity wasn't involved. If the Freedom had been stocked full of crates of century-old wine, no doubt he'd have those Cerberus soldiers in articulated mechs retrieving each and every bottle.

"Inadequacy never bothered me the way it does you," Tobias said, at long last. He was aware of the growl in his voice, but he made sure to sound pleasant. Gabreau would recognize the artifice, think it was part of some grand game Tobias was playing.

Paranoid old shark.

He was as easy to play as a poker player who thought they were really good: just don't bluff. Let him outplay himself. Tobias had grown bored of secrets at sixteen years old.

"The new ship is better, then?" Tobias asked.

"Not your ship. That ship belongs to Project Hephaestus," Gabreau warned. "It's primarily a troop transport. But we will loan it to you and a small squad for this upcoming mission."

"Well," Tobias shrugged. "As long as it's got a big damn gun, then it'll do just fine."