Chapter 20: Bonding

Shepard blew out a heavy breath and glared daggers at the closed door in front of him, and the fist that refused to move the last inch and knock on it. Every fiber of his being wanted desperately to avoid this conversation, but he simply couldn't leave it. Liara deserved better than that. Her mother was dead, and he had promised to get her out alive. She deserved to hear about it from him as quickly as possible. It was only right. He wouldn't let his own cowardice stop that from happening.

He closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. But he would let it distract and delay him, it would seem. Before he could think about it further, he forced his hand to finish its journey and hit the door with a solid thud. "One moment," a muffled voice from beyond it caused him to tense unconsciously.

Several seconds of this passed in agonizing slowness, punctuated by faint rustling that only ratcheted the tension he was feeling even further. Finally though, Liara cracked open the door, and Shepard had to fight the urge to wince. The asari had seen better days. Her clothes were rumpled and mussed and he could spot hastily-cleaned evidence of tears. Even her bearing, normally so friendly, showed evidence of wear. She was on her feet, but slumped tiredly against the door and letting it take most of her weight. Her eyes met his and a dreadful certainty lurked behind her eyes. She already knew what he had come to say, he realized.

"Shepard," she greeted him, her voice thick with tightly leashed emotion. "She is dead, isn't she?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes." His eyes moved to the floor, unable to hold her gaze as he said, "I'm sorry."

She slumped at his words, what little strength she had left leaving her in a rush. She made a strangled, half-sobbing sound and asked, "Ho- How did she die?"

The commander gave her a concerned look and raised one arm, his hand hovering awkwardly beside her bicep, ready to catch her if she fell. "Now probably isn't the time for that," he said quietly. "You look lik-"

"No!" she snapped angrily, batting his hand away. "I am fine." She glared hotly at him for a long moment, but the surge of energy vanished as quickly as it had come. She sagged and continued in a soft voice. "Please," she pleaded. She met Shepard's gaze imploringly, and he could feel a vice tightening in his chest.

He blew out an explosive sigh. "Are you sure?" he asked, quietly hoping she would take the offered out.

His hopes crashed when she nodded, her jaw set determinedly. "Tell me."

Shepard nodded slowly and spoke as dispassionately as he could. "Saren sent her to Noveria to get information out of a rachni queen they had found in cryogenic stasis." Liara cocked her head questioningly, but she apparently deemed her mother's fate more important than learning more about the rachni, for she stayed silent. "After she arrived, the rachni soldiers they were cloning went insane and overran the facility. Benezia and a handful of her followers were able to lock themselves in the room where they kept the queen. We took care of the crazy rachni and forced our way into the room with them. She did not respond to that well."

He very carefully did not show any external sign of the degree of understatement of his last sentence. "We fought her and her followers until I stumbled across the psi disrupter." Liara's expression flickered with curiousity again, and her mouth cracked open to voice the question, but once again she stopped herself before she could actually speak. One of her hands flopped in a continue gesture, and Shepard complied cautiously. "I destroyed the disrupter and the queen used her psionics to break free." He looked Liara in the eye and said, "Her first act outside of the cage was to kill Benezia."

Liara's eyes closed tightly. "I see," she said at length, and he had no idea what was going through her head. It was as if a three-foot-thick steel shutter had slammed down over her thoughts. Absolutely nothing was coming through. She opened her eyes and looked to Shepard. "Was Benezia under Sovereign's control?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. She winced, but he could not find it in himself to regret it. She needed the truth more than a comforting lie right now. "My gut says yes, but I saw no indication either way."

The asari nodded with a politely blank expression that Shepard found incredibly unnerving. There was no single aspect of her demeanor that he could pinpoint as being the cause, but as he looked at her, he could feel an unnameable dread welling up within him. In that moment, he felt honest fear of a thin blue woman that barely came up to his shoulders. What the hell?

"Very well," her voice, still utterly devoid of emotion, intruded into his racing thoughts. "If you will excuse me, Commander, I have a bug to kill."

Shepard gaped at her. She's lost it, he realized. She's grieving and latching onto the first target she can find to vent. She tried to brush past him but, before she could react, he grabbed her around the middle with both hands and pulled her bodily into her quarters. He kicked the door closed behind him as he came through and it swung shut just as Liara began struggling.

"Damnit Shepard!" she barked, twisting and turning her torso under his grip. Her arms, trapped under his, pulled tightly and her feet bounced of his shins with bruising force. He had to force himself to ignore it, to not get more and more angry with every blow. "Let me go!"

"No," he snapped back, tightening his grip as it began to slip. "You're not thinking straight, and you're staying here until you are."

She glared at him as best she could with her shoulder in the way. "It killed my mother!"

"Your mother was responsible for her children going insane," Shepard shot back as his frustration got the better of him. He barely noticed as Liara froze like a sectoid staring down the barrel of a plasma rifle. "Of course the queen was going to be pissed at her."

The fight drained out of the asari in his arms. She deflated, almost like a balloon, forcing Shepard to support her full weight. "Really?" she asked weakly, desperate for a no.

Shepard suddenly felt like the galaxy's biggest ass. "Yes," he confirmed weakly, unable to look at her, cursing the fact that even now, he couldn't bring himself to lie to her about it. "She was."

Liara began sobbing then. Raw, naked, powerful grief wracked her small frame as he held her, silently willing whatever comfort he could into the woman. She turned suddenly in his arms and buried her face into his chest as her arms encircled his torso. He could feel her hot tears soaking into his shirt. "Shh," he said as one hand began stroking her back. "It'll be okay."

Shepard stepped out of the room, closed the door behind him, and slumped against it with a sigh. Liara had finally cried herself to sleep a few minutes ago, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his rack and sleep for the next week. He had one more stop to make before he could do that though.

He shoved off the door and grimaced at the feeling of sodden fabric rubbing against his chest. Perhaps he should change his shirt first. With a dismissive shrug, he turned and headed for his quarters. The walk was brief, less than twenty meters, and he slipped into his quarters in a matter of seconds. He quickly swapped his shirt for a fresh one and took a moment to relish the feeling of cleanliness. Then he turned around and made to leave once more.

The act prompted Rex to look up from where he had been laying and whine inquisitively.

"Just gonna go check on Garrus," he said over his shoulder. "Wanna come?"

Rex yipped an affirmative and rolled to his feet before trotting over to him. Shepard nodded once, turned and walked out. He led the way to the infirmary, distractedly returning the greetings from the various members of the crew that he passed. He was too preoccupied with grisly imaginings of what may have befallen his turian friend to worry about being polite. He was so lost in thought in fact, that before he'd even realized he was close, he found himself walking through the door into Dr. Chakwas' domain.

Garrus still lay on the bed Shepard had put him in, but it had since been surrounded with a privacy screen. All that could be seen of the turian from the doorway was a pair of taloned feet sticking out just past the screen. The steady beeping of an EKG filled the medbay, a strangely comforting sound to Shepard. It meant Garrus was still alive.

"Ah, Commander Shepard," Dr. Chakwas greeted him over her shoulder as he came in. She stood from her desk and turned to face him. "Come to check on Mr. Vakarian?"

"Got it in one doc," he answered blithely. His gaze flicked from her to the feet on the last bed. "How is he?"

"He will live," the doctor said, her voice tinged with something Shepard couldn't identify. Her tone pulled Shepard's attention fully back to her, and she grimaced. "But even with skin grafts, he will always bear the scars."

Shepard frowned. "How bad?"

"It's not so bad," Garrus' voice interjected. "I'm still prettier than you."

Shepard's head whipped back around, fast enough to put a crick in his neck. He yelped in surprise at the sensation, one hand coming up to rub his neck, before he looked to the bed. He was just in time to see the privacy screen finish retracting. Rex barked happily and rushed over, even as the turian swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up to face the commander. Shepard barely suppressed a flinch at the sight. Garrus' right mandible was a mess of scar tissue and half-formed skin grafts. It looked as if someone had taken hot wax and shaped it into something only vaguely approximating a turian cheek. Lumps and runnels of flesh formed disturbing patterns all along the lower half of his head. There was even a gentle blue glow that could be seen leaking through the tissue in places, stark evidence of bone grafts, if not outright replacements.

The acid had not been content to only rob the turian of his jaw though. Half-melted flesh traced thick lines up from his jaw and along his cheek, straight through his blue face paint. The biggest of these marks described a perfect line from the tip of his chin, up over his upper jaw and narrowly missing his nose in favor of going straight over what he once been his right eye.

The eye had not survived. A small metal plate had been affixed to the socket, holding a small, clearly cybernetic, replacement very much like a geth's eye, complete with swirling aperture to act as a lid. It glowed a barely detectable blue in the dimness of the medbay, giving the wounded turian an almost ominous appearance.

Shepard scowled fiercely at nothing as he realized what the mission had taken from Garrus. A brilliant flash of rage and self-loathing shot through him. He should have seen the rachni coming, or deflected the acid with his psionics, or any of the million other things he could have done back in that cold, dead room. The more rational part of him spoke up, insisting that there wasn't anything he could have done, but the rest of him wasn't feeling very receptive to it. It was his fault Garrus was missing an eye, and he wasn't about to let rational arguments get in the way of that.

Still, Garrus didn't need to know that. He had enough to worry about. He pasted a half-grin on his face with an effort of will and shot back at Garrus by turning to Chakwas with a hidden wink and asking, "You sure that thing's calibrated right? He appears to be seeing things."

The doctor smiled wryly, ignoring Garrus' yelp of protest. "It was my first time calibrating a cybernetic eye for a turian. It's possible I crossed a few wires."

"Bah!" Garrus took their teasing good naturedly, deigning instead to ruffle Rex's ears. "I am now officially a cyber commando. Your opinions are invalid."

The dog yipped a gentle reprimand, then whined inquisitively with a pointed glance at the turian's new eye. Garrus grinned shallowly at the SHIV, pulling grotesquely on the half melted flesh of his cheek. "Of course it counts," he said with a trace of exasperation. "It's a cyber-netic eye. And I'm a commando. That makes me a cyber commando."

Rex rolled his eyes with a chuff and tapped himself on the chest with a forepaw. Garrus' organic eye narrowed. "No way," he shot back. "You're a robot. You can't be a cyber anything."

The SHIV whined, sad and pathetic, and put his head on Garrus' lap, training huge, sad eyes on the turian. Garrus, as riddled with painkillers as he must have been, lasted all of four seconds under that look. "Fine, but you're not a commando." Rex whined again and Garrus sighed, sending Shepard an aggrieved look. The commander simply grinned widely and unrepentantly in return. Garrus sighed again and turned back to Rex. "Fine," he said slowly, defeated. "You can be a cyber commando."

Rex yipped happily and stepped back, sitting down at the foot of Garrus' bed. Across the room, Shepard burst into a deep belly laugh that drew a glare from Garrus. His face twitched jerkily into a frown and he made to rise, but Dr. Chakwas tutted at him with a fond smile. "Down, Vakarian," she said sternly. "You're not going anywhere until the skin grafts are finished. You will not be leaving that bed until tomorrow, at the earliest. Am I clear?" Garrus opened his mouth to protest and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Am I clear?" she repeated in the exact same tone.

He must have seen something in it though, because his eyes went wide in surprise and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Crystal," he mumbled quickly as he sank back onto the bed. "I'm not leaving." She nodded approvingly and turned back to her desk, the room soon filling with the sound of paperwork being filed. The turian's bemuesd and helpless gaze moved from the doctor to Shepard. He sobered instantly and asked, "How'd the mission go? Did you get Benezia?"

Shepard grimaced and answered him. He laid out the tale from the fight in the cafeteria all the way to the destruction of the facility, and was treated to a first-hand lesson on turian cursing. Somehow, once Shepard finished, he managed to go a full three minutes of swearing without once repeating himself. It was rather impressive.

"Pretty much," Shepard agreed once the tirade had run its course. "We all lived through it though. That's better than a lot of people can say."

Garrus gave a tired sigh. "Yea." One hand rose up to lightly caress the synthetic eye and he mumbled, almost too quietly to hear, "mostly."

Another round of self-recriminations raced through Shepard's thoughts, and he had to fight not to voice it. Garrus did not need him throwing a pity party beside his hospital bed right now. "Anyway," he said with false cheer, deliberately forcing his thoughts away from their darkening path. "It's good to see you up and moving. I just came by to make sure you're alright, so I'll let you get back to sleep now."

Garrus shook his head and let his hand fall. "Yea," he said distractedly. "I'll see you later."

Shepard whistled quietly, calling Rex over to him, and led the way out of the medbay, his mind giving him no respite from its accusations. Low, simmering anger raced through him, at the rachni, at Saren, at the Reapers, and at himself. He blew out a hot breath. Great. Now he'd never get to sleep.

A loud, drawn out yawn escaped from Shepard's mouth as he walked through the door to the squad's ready room, grabbing the attention of the sole occupant. Nihlus glanced up briefly from the reports he had clearly been scanning and he muttered a terse greeting without moving from his chair.

"Nihlus," Shepard said in return, suppressing another yawn. Damn restless nights. His prediction had proven true enough, and it was making today something of a nightmare. He shook his head, forcing the grumbling to the back of his mind. He quickly strode over to the turian's side and scowled as he closed the open display, reverting back to a folder view. "What were you looking at?"

"I am attempting to anticipate Saren's movements." Nihlus said in a bored tone. He tapped the enormous list of files and reports on the holographic display and sighed heavily. "It is mind-numbing work."

"Want a hand?" Shepard offered without thinking. Even as the words finished leaving his mouth, he was regretting it. He'd probably pass out ten minutes into it if it was as boring as Nihlus made it sound.

The Spectre's face twisted into the turian equivalent of a grimace. "I cannot allow you to. You do not have sufficient clearance from the Citadel Council," he said, frustration leaking into his voice. "No one else on this vessel does. I would welcome a momentary distraction however. Perhaps a fresh perspective is what I need to find what we are looking for here, if you are willing?"

"Fair enough," Shepard said, unable to stop the relief that leaked into his voice. "I can do that. What do you need my take on?"

"Saren," Nihlus said firmly. "More specifically, where he will go. The Mu Relay is a Secondary Relay. There are dozens, possibly hundreds of potential destinations that we know of within range of it." He stabbed a taloned finger at his terminal. "And these are intelligence reports on every system within range. Which would Saren pick?"

"Depends on what he wants," Shepard countered with a suggestion. "Let's lay out what we know and work from there. Maybe we'll see something on another look-through."

Nihlus glowered at him briefly, presumably annoyed by having to go over this information for the nth time, but he complied with a swift series of keystrokes into his terminal. A simple list of text came to the fore, and Nihlus began to read it aloud. "First, his goals. Saren has one ultimate objective, if the geth are to be believed." Shepard's lips narrowed at the implication, but he decided not to comment. It wasn't worth it. "To bring back the Reapers. In order to do this, he needs a prothean artifact known only as the Conduit."

"Which we know nothing about," Shepard cut in with a frown.

"No," Nihlus agreed with a soft clacking sound, almost like a human tutting. "It could be nearly anything. All we know is that, according to Shiala, the Eden Prime beacon had information Saren needed in order to find it."

"And that he needs the Mu Relay to reach wherever it's hidden," Shepard cut in smoothly, reading the list over Nihlus' shoulder.

"Hence the intelligence reports," Nihlus grumbled tiredly. His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "From which, I have found nothing."

Shepard nodded quietly. "Did the queen know anything?" When Nihlus didn't respond, the commander turned to him and gave him an arch look. "You didn't think of that, did you?"

The turian slowly rose to his feet, forcing Shepard to step back, and said, his voice laced with a strange mixture of reluctance and self-annoyance. "No," he admitted quietly. "I did not."

"Let's go ask her then," Shepard suggested forcefully. The commander grabbed Nihlus' arm and dragged the turian behind him as he walked over to the door. "Ken was setting up the transceiver for her on my way in. You should be able to talk to her directly now."

"Joy," Nihlus muttered sarcastically as he was dragged out of the ready room.

Shepard ignored the turian's sullen tone in favor of focusing on the rachni queen. She stood calmly in the center of the Normandy's cargo hold while a short, red-haired engineer tinkered with a slim box roughly his own size beside her. As Shepard approached, the engineer stepped back and ran the back of his hand along his forehead.

"Tha' should do it," he announced in a light Scottish brogue. "Gi'e her a try."

The box squawked alarmingly for a full second and Shepard flinched from the sudden onslaught of noise. It died as quickly as it started however, to be replaced by a light, airy and lyrical voice that said, "The device works as required. You have our thanks, Machine One."

"Ach, dinnae worry abou' it," the engineer said with a shrug as he stowed away his tools. "Jus' doin' my job." He glanced over his shoulder at Shepard and nodded. "And jus' in time too, by the look o' it."

The queen followed his gaze to Shepard, then trilled a quiet greeting as she recognized him. "We offer greetings, One of Bloody Music. Do you require assistance?"

Shepard blinked. That was one he hadn't heard before. More than a little aggravating too. He couldn't stop himself from asking about it. "One of Bloody Music?"

"Queenie here thinks differently than we do," the engineer answered him with a gesture at the queen. "They dinnae have names like us. They identify people by relation to other things, and the magic box 'ere has ta guess at her meanin'."

The queen trilled her agreement and extrapolated on her reasoning. "Your singing is loud. Angry. Violent. Your music is soaked in blood."

Shepard scowled at her. That's just wonderful. Now he's getting a psych eval from a giant bug. That's exactly what his life needed. A brief flash of anger surged through him at the thought. There was only one way she could get that information. His eyes narrowed and he glared at the queen as he snapped, "Stay out of my head."

The rachni trilled again, a mournful note this time. "We did not," she said, her voice almost, but not quite, defensive. "Your music is loud. Obvious. We could not help but hear."

Fucking fantastic, Shepard thought. Now a giant bug can listen to his every thought, and he had no idea how to stop it. Outrage at the violation of privacy mixed with his frustration at his lack of sleep and the hell of the last few days and quickly turned into something ugly. Faint purple streamers wafted from his tight fists as he opened his mouth to say something rather scathing, and equally stupid. The queen responded to his anger in her own way. Her tentacle arms weaved gently through the air and a low halo of psionic power highlighted her form.

The engineer paled and took a couple shaky steps back, before he tripped over nothing and landed heavily on his back, scattering tools around the area. The sudden commotion cracked like a whip through the rush of irrational rage and Shepard abruptly felt as if he'd been dunked in a bucket of ice water. He flinched and his powers dissipated, retreating back to the far corner of his soul. "You okay, Ken?" he asked, shooting a concerned glance at the engineer.

"Peachy," he said, sitting up on the floor and massaging the back of his head with one hand. "Mind not doin' that agin, Commander?"

The queen trilled her agreement with that sentiment. "We wish it were so," she said, the lyrical tones of her synthesized voice carrying a hint of disapproval.

Shepard ducked his head slightly and shrugged helplessly. "Sorry. I haven't exactly had the best week."

"None of us have," Nihlus interrupted, stepping around Shepard with a reproving glance at the commander. He turned back around and eyed the rachni queen appraisingly. "However, we still have a job to do. We are seeking the one ultimately responsible for your imprisonment on Noveria. Are you willing to help us find them?"

"Yes," the queen answered eagerly. "What do you require?"

"Were you able to learn anything about why Matriarch Benezia wanted to find the Mu Relay?" the Spectre asked. "Where they were planning to travel with it, for example?"

The queen trilled sadly. "No. The she-witch's mind was broken. She was but a vessel for another, greater will. We could learn nothing from her." Shepard frowned. So Benezia was being controlled. Liara would want to hear about that.

"Damnit," Nihlus cursed vehemently. He kicked at a wrench by his feet and sent it flying across the room, where it hit the wall with a clang. The turian expertly ignored the glare from the engineer, who left soon after to retrieve his wrench, in favor of turning his attention on Shepard. "I will return to studying those reports then." He nodded at the queen. "Thank you for your assistance."

The Spectre turned and briskly strode away, straight back into the ready room. As the door closed behind him, Shepard turned his attention back to the queen. "Thank you," he said with a shallow bow, forcing an apology into his tone. He tried a tentative smile when she trilled back at him. "We'll be meeting with the XCS Yamaguchi tomorrow," he told her. "They'll take you to the shortlist of planets you picked out to investigate. I hope you find a good home on one of them."

"We thank you," she replied at once. One of her tentacle arm things shot forward suddenly, and Shepard had to fight the instinctive urge to dive away from the motion. It proved to be the right choice a second later as the bulb on the end of it stopped just within his arm's reach. The bulb opened slightly and she trilled. "Friends?" she asked tentatively, the music in her voice full of hope.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at her. The queen had an annoying ability to surprise him, it seemed. He pointedly sent a questioning glance at her bulb and she explained, "Your kind have been observed sealing agreements with a grasping ritual."

Ah. She wanted to shake on it. Shepard chuckled dryly and awkwardly gripped the bulb in his right hand. "Sure, why not?" he asked rhetorically as the bulb began to undulate with his hand attached. "Let's be friends."

Without warning, a loud series of booming knocks filled Shepard's chamber. Unprepared for the sudden sound, Shepard nearly jumped out of his skin. The flinch shot all the way down to his hands, which drew a jagged line of soot and half-melted plastic along the circuit board he had been working on. He cursed under his breath as he put away his soldering iron and immediately tried to salvage what he could from the mess. It wasn't likely to be much.

A few seconds passed in silence as he busied himself trying to save the thing, but another series of booming knocks reminded him of the cause of his current problems. "What?!" he snapped loudly, refusing to get up from his desk. If they wanted to talk, they could damn well come to him.

The door hissed open and the unmistakable thud of krogan footsteps filled the room. Shepard sighed internally. He should have known.

"Carnifex," Wrex rumbled, his voice grave. "We need to talk."

Shepard felt one brow raise and, finally, turned to face his visitor. "What about?" he asked cautiously, though he had a feeling he already knew. The queen had just been offloaded two hours ago, and now Wrex ambled in wanting to talk. He had stopped believing in coincidence over a decade ago. There was no way they were unrelated.

"You've earned my trust, Carnifex," the krogan stated simply. "But you have not earned blind obedience." He folded his arms over his wide chest and, there was no other way to put it, glowered at Shepard, demanding answers. "I will ask you once, and if I don't like your answer, I'll throw you out the nearest airlock." He paused to let that sink in, then asked, "Why?"

The commander stood from his chair and met Wrex's stare evenly, refusing to be intimidated by the krogan's sheer size. He didn't even bother asking for clarification. They both knew why Wrex was here. "Because it was the right thing to do. Because it wasn't worth the risk to put her down. Because the rachni could be useful against the Reapers." He scowled at nothing. "Or maybe because she wasn't responsible for the Rachni Wars. Take your pick."

A faint, disappointed chuckle rolled out of Wrex's throat. "Heh. Because the Carnifex of Khar'shan doesn't want to get his hands dirty?"

Shepard grimaced distastefully. "I have enough innocent blood on my hands."

"And if it's not innocent?" Wrex rumbled quietly. His stare intensified, became piercing. Shepard suddenly felt more exposed than if he had stripped naked on the extranet. The feeling was at once humbling and infuriating, and Shepard didn't hesitate to let it show.

"Then I will kill her myself," he said coldly, his eyes blazing with restrained anger. His tone was final and absolute, tolerant of absolutely no dissension. "But not until she's done something that deserves it." He'd been down that path before. He wouldn't tread it again.

The krogan's stare bored into him, an unceasing torrent that Shepard matched with his own implacable will. Low, simmering anger met calm regard and the room thrummed with barely perceptible tension, waiting impatiently to see which of the pair blinked first.

The silent battle of wills continued for several seconds, but in the end, it was Wrex who backed down. He glanced aside, breaking the stare, and jerking his head in a motion that could almost be called acceptance on anyone else. "Good enough," he muttered as he did. The tension in the room broke with an almost audible snap, and Shepard felt his muscles loosening unconsciously in response. The low, frustrated anger melted out of the commander, leaving him just feeling relieved.

Wrex eyed him in undisguised amusement, and a low chuckle escaped from the krogan. Shepard frowned briefly before his hand flicked out and lightly swatted Wrex upside the head. A momentary corona of purple flickered from his hand, arresting the krogan's instinctive counter the very instant it began. "Down boy," he said dryly.

Wrex glared at him and bared blocky teeth at him in a half-snarl. "Don't try that again," he said, his voice utterly calm.

One side of Shepard's lips quirked up. "Then don't give me reason to," he shot back. He wasn't about to back down and blow the comradery they'd built. "You deserved it."

Wrex's glare upgraded to a glower and he snorted loudly. "Don't push your luck, Carnifex."

"Eh," Shepard said dismissively. "It's what I do best. You need anything else, or can I get back to trying to salvage what you broke?"

An inquisitive grunt was his only response, but by the glance Wrex took at the scarred circuitboard behind him, it was easy enough to guess the unasked question.

"New psionic amp based on the Thorian," he answered calmly. "The coats sent me a copy of the first draft of the schematics and I'm seeing what I can do to improve on it." He shook his head irritably and scowled at his visitor. "Your visit set me back a few hours."

Wrex grunted again, almost apologetically, and nodded before wordlessly turning and stomping back out of the room. The door sealed behind him and Shepard blew out a noisy breath. He turned back to his desk and glared at the ugly black line marring the circuit board. This was not going to be a fun repair.

"Finally!" Shepard exclaimed with relief before a yawn escaped him. He set the finished psionic amp on his table and shot a look at his clock, only for his eyes to go wide in surprise. "Not again," he whined petulantly, not even fighting the slump of his shoulders. He shot a glare over his shoulder at the still form of Rex, and grumbled, "You could have at least told me when we passed 2 AM."

The SHIV looked up, grinned and cocked his head slightly, making clear the unspoken question of 'where would be the fun in that?'. Shepard flashed him a rude gesture, but Rex just let out an amused chuff and lay back down. Shepard gave him an irritated glare offset by a fond smile and shook his head, even as another yawn tore from his throat. "Good idea," he muttered to the dog. He turned to his bunk and managed all of one step toward it before his bladder alerted him of more pressing issues.

His second step smoothly swung around and pointed him right at the door to his quarters. Rex whined inquisitively as he palmed the door control. "Need the head," Shepard grunted without looking and stepped through the doorway. He could hear Rex lay back down as the door sealed behind him, leaving him in the dim lighting of the ship's night.

The Normandy at night was a vastly different experience, Shepard idly thought as he made his way through the almost completely empty hallways. The night shift was but a small fraction of the crew, and the absence of the normal background bustle made the ship feel lifeless and cloying. It was subtly unnerving to see the places normally so full of life so still and dead. He didn't let it bother him however, and made it to the bathroom in short order.

He did his business quickly and stepped out of the room, destined for his rack and as much sleep as he could get. As the door to the bathroom closed however, a sudden clatter from the nearby lounge grabbed his attention. He was tempted to ignore it, after all, if it was a problem, EDI would let him know, and bed was sounding perfect right about now, but a low, indecipherable murmur prompted him to investigate.

He quickly crossed the few meters separating him from the lounge door and slapped the control. "Eek!" Tali shrieked at the sudden whoosh of the door opening. Small, vaguely animalistic figurines were flung wildly through the air as she jumped in surprise and whirled to face the portal. Around her feet, several more of the small figurines lay scattered and an intricate, two foot tall structure that looked like nothing so much as a chess board as designed by M.C. Escher stood on the table beside her. "Shepard!" she half-scolded, half-yelped when she caught sight of him. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile and a small yawn. "I was leaving the head when I heard something in here and thought I'd take a look. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," she said, calmer now. Her breathing was slowly steadying as well, though something about her still seemed off. She waved one hand at the structure. "That was me. I accidentally knocked over my paisho set in the middle of a game."

"Paisho?" Shepard asked with a slight frown. "I've never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised," Tali replied with forced cheer as she turned back to picking up the small figurines. "It's not widely known outside of the Flotilla. It's one of the few things that survived the Geth War. My father taught me how to play and it helps when I'm-" She cut herself off abruptly with a shake of the head and busied herself with the simple task.

A brief embarrassed silence settled over the room, until small streams of psionic power flowed from Shepard and grabbed the pieces that had been scattered by his surprise entrance. He offered the cluster of figurines to Tali, who accepted them with a mumbled thanks. "When you... what?" he prompted gently. Something was wrong with her and he didn't feel right leaving her to deal with it alone. "Can't sleep?"

"No!" she said hurriedly and emphatically. She forced a chuckle and said, "What makes you think I couldn't..." She trailed off as Shepard gave her a look that quite clearly told her he wasn't buying it. She slumped in place and her body language screamed defeat. When she spoke, her voice was tired and sad. "Yes. I can't sleep."

Shepard crossed the distance between them and gave the quarian an encouraging smile. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," she answered instantly. A beat later, before Shepard had even had time to react, she shrank in on herself and continued in a tired and lost voice. "Yes. I don't know."

Shepard put a hand on her shoulder and gently led her over to the lounge's sofa. She followed stiffly, as if on autopilot, but she sat down as he directed her to. "What's wrong?"

A tremor, so minor he wouldn't have noticed had his hand not been on her shoulder, ran through her body. "Every time I close my eyes," she began shakily. "It's like I'm back there, on Noveria. Like I never left." He took a seat beside her and tried to squeeze one of her hands comfortingly. She returned his grip forcefully, almost to the point of pain, but refused to look at him. She continued unsteadily, her voice edging on hysteria. "Every time I go to sleep, I'm knee deep in bodies and blood all over again. And it doesn't stop."

Her legs folded up so that she could huddled behind her knees and she pulled her arms around them, though she took care not to break her grip on Shepard's hand. He silently offered whatever support he could to her. "I haven't slept for more than two hours since we got back," she admitted a few seconds later.

Shepard grimaced. Nightmares made sense, especially if she had never seen anything like Peak 15 before, but he had no idea how to help with that. "That was the first time you've ever seen that, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed quietly, barely loud enough to be heard.

He squeezed her hand and gave her a wan smile. "I won't say it gets easier," he said tiredly. He stared straight into the glowing spots on her visor he was sure were her eyes and poured as much sincerity as he could into his words. "Because it doesn't. But you will learn how to deal with it. It's not right and it's not fair, but you'll learn to live with it in time. I've been where you are now, so I know that nothing I say is going to make it better." Tali slumped against her legs and another small tremor rocked her frame. "But," he said, and she perked up, immediately fixing her whole attention on him. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Without another word, she twisted the arm he was holding and slipped under his, where she released his hand before she lunged at him and hugged him across the chest. "Thank you," she murmured into his shirt. "That means a lot."

"You're, er, you're welcome," he said as his hand hovered awkwardly over her back. She curled into his side with an unintelligible murmur and his hand dropped to rest on her back. "Tali?" he ventured, somewhat uncomfortable with her snuggling him.

There was no response. He prodded her back, but she had, evidently, passed out nearly immediately. He couldn't say he was comfortable with her there, but he was loath to move. If she had had that much trouble sleeping, he'd feel like a heel if he woke her up. He'd deal with being uncomfortable if it helped her some.

Resigned to staying put, he let his head fall back and stopped fighting the pull on his eyelids. He was asleep before his head hit the back of the couch.

A low murmuring heralded Shepard's gradual return to consciousness. His groggy mind couldn't recognize any of the words, or even the voices, but he could pick up on the tone of amusement running through it. A Herculean effort of will forced one eye open a crack, only to let it close with a hiss of pain at the bright light beyond. "Oww," he moaned groggily. "Too brigh'."

The murmurs redoubled, but now that he was at least partially awake, he could start to make out actual words. "Comfortable, Shepard?" the voice asked cheerily.

"Wuh?" he managed to mumble in reply. His head turned toward the source and he gingerly, carefully cracked open his eyes once more. A wide swathe of blurry brown and gunmetal grey greeted his vision, interrupted only by a tall black and grey form streaked with a deep blue. He blinked owlishly and the room slowly came into focus, sharpening the blur into the distinct form of a turian clad in the distinctive blue and black of C-SEC. "Garrus?" he wondered aloud. Something seemed off about his quarters, but in the fuzzy grogginess of sleep, he couldn't pick it out. "What're you doin' in my room?"

The turian chuckled quietly. "Look again, Shepard."

Shepard glanced around and groaned quietly, finally recognizing what seemed so wrong. He wasn't in his quarters at all. What was he doing in here? He began to sit up, only to find the attempt impeded by a solid weight atop his chest. He glanced down and damn near jumped out of his skin.

Tali lay stretched out on top of him, with the faceplate of her visor pressed into his chest and her hands loosely holding fistfuls of his shirt, while one of his hands rested against her back, holding her flush against him. Now that he was aware of her presence, he became uncomfortably aware of the way her breasts pressed against his stomach and her legs had tangled with his.

Adrenaline surged through his veins at the sight, banishing his lingering sleepiness in an instant. He just barely stopped himself from throwing her across the room in the sudden surprise. What the hell was she doing here?

A beat later, memories of last night came back in a rush. He couldn't help but let out a quiet groan as he let himself fall back into the couch. Garrus chuckled, earning the turian an arch look from the commander. Internally, Shepard was surprised how well Garrus had recovered. It had only been a few days, and already there was no sign of the turian's cybernetic replacements, save the eye. The scars were not going away anytime soon, but at least they covered everything. Still, that didn't give the idiot a free pass. "It's not what it looks like," Shepard said in a fierce whisper, unable to stop the embarrassment from leaking into his voice or his face.

"Oh?" Garrus asked, clearly highly amused. "What is it then?"

"Well, uh," Shepard began, carefully trying to slip out from under the quarian without waking her. She didn't need to go through that embarrassment. "I ca-"

"Hmm, John," Tali mumbled in her sleep. Her grip tightened on his shirt and stopped his movement cold. "Come back t' bed."

Shepard froze. It's okay, he told himself, she's only dreaming. It didn't mean anything, he was just the closest person for her to latch on to. He distantly noticed his cheeks had lit up in a brilliant blush, but he was far too busy being shocked, appalled and worried by her proclamation to do much of anything about it.

Unfortunately, Garrus didn't have that problem. Loud snorts of suppressed laughter filled the room as the turian tried to control his mirth. Taloned hands clutched at his midsection and he visibly shook with the force of his laughter.

"Garrus, it is not polite to intrude on a couple's private time." EDI's voice came through the room's speaker as, with a soft popping noise, her avatar sprung from the terminal against the wall. Garrus began sputtering helplessly in response.

Shepard, his mind finally beginning to move once more, groaned heavily. Of course the omnipresent AI saw this whole disaster-in-the-making. And of course she did nothing to stop it. His head fell back and he glared upside down at her avatar. "Damnit EDI. Don't encourage him. You know as well as I do that's not the case."

"My apologies, Commander," she replied, her voice cordially regretful. "Someone seems to have replaced my mercy subroutines while they were restoring my voice files."

Shepard groaned again. He couldn't even pull off a simple prank without it blowing up in his face. His hand not wrapped around Tali came up and made a rude gesture at the hologram. The avatar flickered momentarily, and EDI's voice sounded reproving as she said, "That was not very nice, Commander."

"Bite me," he snapped quietly. Despite his efforts though, the noise seemed too much for Tali to continue sleeping. A quiet noise of satisfaction heralded her awakening, moments before she began to stretch and press against him in simultaneously intriguing and unwanted ways. She finished her stretching in a few moments however, and then curled tighter against Shepard's chest. She burrowed her helmet into his chest once more and sighed happily. The commander blushed harder.

"Goo- Good morning, Tali," Garrus chirped cheerfully through his laughter. "How'd you sleep?"

The quarian went very, very still. Her head slowly pulled out of Shepard's chest and turned toward Garrus, then with obvious hesitation, she turned to face his head. The glowing points of her eyes bored into Shepard's own for a second that stretched to eternity, then she asked in a voice full of dread, "This isn't a dream, is it?"

Shepard slowly shook his head. A low tremble rushed through her body, obvious to Shepard only because of their closeness, and before he could react, the girl flung herself off him like she'd been scalded. She tumbled to the ground with a thud, to the audible amusement of Garrus, and began babbling apologies to him as she climbed to her feet. "Sorry! I'm sorry! Oh Keelah, I am so sorry, Shepard! I didn't... er... I wasn't, I mean, you weren't... uhh... you were just so comfortable."

"Duly noted, Tali," EDI said as Shepard buried his face in his hands. "I will begin manufacture of a pillow matching Shepard's physical shape for you."

"What? No!" she exclaimed, completely flustered. "I couldn't use that, it would be weird! And totally not the same thing at all. There's no way a pillow could be anywhere near as nice! And," she paused as she realized Garrus was staring at her with a wicked grin. "And I should stop talking now," she said meekly.

"It is alright," EDI said with an air of cheer. "That was a joke."

The quarian made a strangled sound and went rigid at the admission before deflating where she stood. Shepard pushed himself up into a sitting position and shot a look at Garrus. "Go ahead," he said resignedly. There was nothing he could do to get out of the inevitable teasing now. "Get it out of your system."

Garrus' one organic eye glittered brightly with amusement. "I wouldn't dare make fun of such a lovely couple," he said, his serious tone belied by the laughter in his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders. He winked at Shepard, ignoring the way Tali seemed to shrink in on herself. "I'll save that for a rainy day."

"Somehow, I am not encouraged," Shepard grumbled with a scowl.

The turian nodded approvingly. "Good. You shouldn't be." Garrus turned and walked to the door with a cheery wave. One foot set down through it, then he looked at Shepard over his shoulder with a predatory grin. "You'll be hearing about this for a whi-."

A small figurine pinged off the side of the turian's head then, pulling a yelp of pain from him. He spun around to face the source at the same time Shepard did. Tali stood beside the lounge's table, still bearing her paisho board, and her arm was still extended from the throw. "What was that for?!" Garrus asked petulantly as he gingerly rubbed his skull.

"You deserved it," the quarian said matter of factly. She crossed her arms over her chest and pointedly turned away with a huff.

A chuckle fought its way out of Shepard at the sight of her indignation. "She's got you there, Garrus."

Showing a degree of sense Shepard hadn't expected of him, Garrus held up his hands in mock surrender and backed through the door. His mandibles twitched in amusement and he gave an exaggerated bow to the quarian. "I'll just leave you two lovebirds to it then."

Another figurine bounced off the door, right where his face had been, as it closed. Tali huffed loudly and threw herself into a seat at the table. "Bosh'tet," she muttered under her breath. She looked over at Shepard and her voice turned embarrassed. "Sorry Commander, I didn't mean t-"

He held up his hand to cut off her apologies. "It's alright Tali," he said with a heavy breath. "It was an accident." He gave her a crooked smile. "Forget it ever happened?"

"Yes," she said in a strange tone. Something Shepard couldn't identify hung thick in her voice. "Forget it..."

Shepard sent her a querying look, but when she ignored it, he nodded decisively. "Alright. I'm gonna go wash up and grab breakfast then. Want some help cleaning up in here?"

"No," she almost shouted. He gave her a strange look and she ducked her head sheepishly. "I mean no, I've got it. Thanks for the offer though."

Shepard studied her for several seconds, but ultimately shrugged. It was her business. "See you later then," he said and walked out the door.

"Seriously?" the commander's incredulous voice filled the cockpit of the Normandy. He turned the copilot's chair to face Joker and cocked an eyebrow. "They really thought like that?"

Joker snorted. "Yea, kinda ridiculous, huh?" he shot back with a grin. "The end of the twentieth was weird like that. Most of the pre-War movies, games, the whole culture really, was all worried about the 'AI revolution'." He shook his head with a pitying smile. "Silly bastards had no idea what they were talking about."

"It is understandable though," EDI offered. "Computers were a new technology. It is a natural human response to fear the unknown."

"I guess," Joker admitted grudgingly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But c'mon, you don't need to be an engineer to know using human bodies as batteries is all kinds of stupid. No machine would be that dumb."

"Indeed," EDI agreed immediately. "It would be far more efficient, and conducive to our goals, to simply use you as a source of menial labor." She paused for a brief instant, just long enough for Shepard to realize what she was implying. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to respond just as EDI continued. "That was a joke."

"Riiiight," the pilot said, drawing the word out with a skeptical tone. He turned to Shepard. "Did you mess with her humor files too?"

"That last modifications to my interaction subroutines is dated two months ago," EDI offered helpfully. "I believe I learned it from you, Helmsman Moreau."

Shepard groaned. "Great," he said with all the sarcasm he could muster. "That's just what the galaxy needs. More Jokers."

"Eh," Joker said with a shrug. "Can't be any worse than half-quarian mini-Shepards." His expression turned slyly innocent at the commander's annoyed grimace. "So when's the wedding?"

Shepard groaned again. "Does the entire ship know about that already?"

"No," EDI answered him cheerfully. "The night crew has not yet awakened, and so have not been informed."

The commander had to fight the sudden urge to break something. He blew out an angry breath and settled for a glare at the AI's avatar as the bars on the orb spread out into a facsimile of a smug grin. She made no indication she noticed, that he could see anyway, but he got the distinct impression she was rather amused by it nonetheless. He scowled at her and sighed heavily. There was nothing he could do about it at this point. He'd just have to cope.

One hand came up to cradle his head. A few seconds later, he peaked between his fingers and sent another glare at EDI. "I don't like you."

The avatar rotated slightly into a bizarre half bow maneuver and Joker snorted. "You don't like anyone," he said brightly. "Well, other than quarian girls, apparently."

"I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" he asked rhetorically.

EDI answered him anyway. "That is statistically unlikely. Most friendly human interaction involves this kind of teasing in some form."

"Great," Shepard muttered under his breath. He stewed in silence for almost a minute, and Joker left him alone the whole time, content to mind his own business. Shepard couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for Tali. Hopefully she'd be able to put up with the embarrassment this morning had caused. It'd been an accident after all, and she hadn't seemed to take Garrus' teasing very well.

He shook his head. There was no use in worrying about it. He'd just have to give the crew something else to talk about. Which was fortunate, because he had been planning something that would do that anyway. He didn't bother to suppress the probably-maniacal grin that split his lips at the thought. This was going to be fun.

"Uhh, Commander?" Joker asked uncertainly. Shepard glanced over to find him looking decidedly nervous. "I'm not gonna need to start running, am I?"

Shepard's grin faded slightly, into something saner, and he shrugged. "Well, you're going to want to, soon enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the pilot demanded incredulously as Shepard stood up.

The commander pulled out a small device and placed it on the chair he had just vacated. "Not much," he answered as he pushed a button on the device. A slow banjo tune filled the cockpit. It would have been pleasant, if not for one thing: each note was struck just the slightest bit off-beat. It created the perfect dissonance to turn the music from soothing to grating. "Just that you'll want to follow me out."

Joker, his hands clamped over his ears tried to stand, but his torso just barely lifted from the seat before it was stopped cold. His eyes went wide and he tried again, only to meet the same result, and shot a look at the Commander.

Shepard just pulled out a tube of super glue to waggle at him. Behind him, the music picked up vocals. A dirge-like voice filled the room, slowly belting out the words, "10,000 bottles of beer on the wall. 10,000 bottles of beer."

Joker glared at the commander. "Not cool!" he snapped. "This is not cool, Commander!"

Shepard grinned unrepentantly and nodded. "Yea," he agreed. "It's really not. I'm gonna have to soundproof the cockpit before someone else gets annoyed by it." He shrugged and started walking toward the door.

"Oh c'mon!" Joker cried, trying, and failing, yet again to pull himself out of his chair. Shepard watched over his shoulder as the pilot then tried impotently to reach the music player on the other chair. "This is cruel and unusual!"

"Which just makes it more fun," Shepard shot back. He stepped through the door and turned around, one hand hovering over the control panel that would seal off the cockpit. "I did say I'd get you back for that stunt you pulled before Noveria. I'll be back for you in a couple hours."

"Don't you da-!" Joker began, only to be cut off as a semi-transparent barrier slammed into being. Blessed silence filled the hallway and Shepard waved cheerily as Joker began making obscene gestures at him from his position in the cockpit. He calmly and deliberately mouthed the words 'have fun' to the pilot, turned around and wandered off.

He walked through the bridge of the Normandy, to uproarious laughter, congratulatory cheers, and no small amount of teasing comments from the rest of the present crew. He made a production out of receiving their acclaim and bowing flamboyantly before forging a path to the elevator.

"Shepard," EDI's voice caught him as he entered the box.

"What is it, EDI?"

"Helmsman Moreau wishes me to inform you that you are a pile of expletive deleted refuse that will rue this day."

"Did he really say that?" Shepard asked with a laugh.

"I paraphrased slightly but that was his intent," EDI admitted nonchalantly. "However, on a personal note, I must congratulate you on a job well done."

Shepard hung loosely from the ceiling, held aloft by the spider module of his armor, as he crept carefully toward his objective. He was so close to victory he could taste it, all he needed to do was cross the last twenty feet. A sudden clatter from the corner of the room caused him to freeze. As stealthily as he could, he flipped himself over and turned to the source, only to find Garrus rounding the corner of the room's last internal wall. He grinned as the turian swept his rifle over the room and crept further in. Perfect, he thought gleefully. Nobody ever looks up.

As quietly as he could, he braced his back against the ceiling above him. A sudden lessening of the pressure on his hands let him know the micro hooks there had grabbed it, freeing his hands so he could fire. He smiled widely and pulled his rifle out, but before he had made it even halfway through the motion, the turian's gun kicked up and pointed right at him.

Shepard's eyes went wide and he slapped at his belt, turning off the spider module even as Garrus squeezed the trigger. Plasma shot past him so closely he could feel the heat as it splashed against the ceiling. Burning shards of concrete fell alongside him, filling the air with dancing light and choking dust as he slammed into a desk in one of the decrepit cubicles below him.

The desk collapsed under his weight, the rotten wood and old plastic unable to take the sudden force. Shepard's breath was forced out of him in a rush from the impact and his vision swam. He pushed past the feeling with the ease of long practice and rolled over, only to find himself face-to-barrel with Garrus' plasma rifle.

"Little tip, Commander," the turian said delightedly. Above the rifle, his one organic eye glittered with humor. "Turians think in three dimensions."

Shepard had just enough time to groan disappointedly as the rifle flashed with deadly green and the sim went black. Damn cheating aliens.

"And that's how you do it!" Garrus crowed triumphantly as the world rearranged itself.

In the span of an eye blink, Shepard suddenly found himself standing upright again, only a few feet from the boasting turian. A brief rush of vertigo struck as his body forcibly reoriented itself from the abrupt shift in gravity. It passed quickly though. More than quickly enough to, to Shepard's displeasure, pay attention as Garrus continued. "You let the guy with one eye spot you Shepard. For shame."

"Uh huh," the commander shot back in a tone of sarcastic agreement. "One eye. Right. It's not at all like you've got a bionic eye that can see in every known range of the EM spectrum."

"Exactly," Garrus happily agreed with a nod. "It can only see in most known ranges."

The urge to bury his face in his palm nearly overwhelmed Shepard. Instead though, he made an elaborate gesture toward the turian and bowed toward the side, earning him a puzzled look from the turian. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's have a round of applause for the comedy act."

Exactly on cue, a stock recording of applause echoed through the blank simulator. Shepard's lips quirked into a grin, even as Garrus began to sputter. "Thanks EDI," he said.

"You are welcome, Shepard," she replied cheerily. "Would you like me to prepare another sim?"

Shepard glanced at his turian opposite questioningly, and got an eager nod in response. "Sounds good EDI."

Without another word, the tiny pinpricks of light, millions of them, came to life all around them. The breathtaking tableau of the Milky Way spread out around him in all directions, impressing upon him just how insignificant he was in the grand scheme of things. Beneath their feet, a beautiful blue-green gem of a planet turned lazily through space, just barely quick enough to follow the motion.

With a tug he couldn't feel, Shepard was flung through the vacuum of space, directly toward a supercarrier holding in orbit above the planet below. He had to suppress an instinctive flinch as he passed into and then through the walls of the carrier until he and Garrus came skittering to a stop in the park at the heart of the carrier.

"This scenario is a cooperative emergency response mission," EDI announced calmly as their surroundings stopped spinning. "Simulating a total systems failure of chryssalid containment approximately eighteen hours ago. Your objective is to activate the purge systems and cleanse the infestation. The last message from survivors was eight hours ago. This is a Code Black situation."

Shepard's hud burst to life with a map of the carrier and their objective point. He scrunched up his nose slightly as he realized the map didn't match a real carrier, but shrugged it off. EDI was being paranoid about information security, he'd just have to deal with it. He glanced over at Garrus to his right. "You up for this?"

"For fighting through potentially over a hundred thousand angry mutant rachni that want to literally rape my face?" The turian's mandibles flexed into a resigned expression. He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Excellent," EDI replied. "Scenario begins... Now."

The pair took off running as soon as she finished speaking, barrelling toward their destination as fast as they possibly could. Neither wanted to spend any longer on a ship full of chryssalids, even virtual ones, than they absolutely had to.

A low, almost too quiet to hear, rustling reached Shepard's ears as they reached the sealed door and took up firing positions on either side. "On three," the commander muttered to Garrus. The turian nodded and Shepard began counting.

When he hit three, he slapped the door control and the very instant it opened, a high-pitched skree pierced his ears. A sharp clattering echoed out of the hallway, the telltale sound of a charging chryssalid. It screamed again, a piercing sound that reached deep into the most primal parts of Shepard's brain and demanded he flee. He fought it down through sheer force of will and rolled out of cover just as Garrus did.

Shepard shared a meaningful glance with the turian and they both cut loose, filling the corridor with plasma. The chryssalid rushed blindly into their fire, ignoring the way chitin and flesh alike melted and ran like wax. Piece by piece, the chryssalid was torn apart until finally, it could take no more. It died with a scream, a piercing cry that echoed down the tunnel, repeating itself again and again as it reached into the distance.

A chittering cry of fury raced back through the corridors, swiftly gaining strength as more and more of the creatures joined in the frenzy. Shepard cursed loudly.

"That is just not fair," Garrus agreed heartily. He shook his head. "Let's go."

Shepard nodded and charged down the corridor, kicking aside the chryssalid's corpse as he went. He led the way in a mad rush through the labyrinthine corridors with the roars of furious bugs growing louder with every step. He kept one eye on the map and one eye on the path as he ran, forcing himself to ignore his body's demands for rest. They didn't have to run for too long though, and only a few minutes later he could see the door to their destination.

"In here!" he shouted, pointing it out. "Controls!"

As if it was waiting for just that cue, the door exploded outward, torn apart by the unreal strength of the chitinous horror beyond it. Small shards of metal whizzed through the hallway, bouncing off the walls in a shower of deadly shrapnel. Shepard threw everything he had into stopping, but it wasn't enough. His momentum carried him straight into the arms of the abomination.

Luckily, it was as unprepared for him as he was for it, and instead of being violently torn apart, his weight threw it to the ground beneath him. On instinct, he grabbed the thing's head and torqued it as violently as he could before it had a chance to react. Artificial muscle strained for a long second, but not even chryssalid chitin could withstand the full might of a titan strength module, and he tore off its head with a shout of triumph.

"Incoming from the rear!" Garrus' shout grabbed his attention the next second, forcing Shepard to push himself back up to his feet. His eyes went wide at what he saw. Dozens of chryssalids stampeded down the corridor in a furious tide. Beady yellow eyes fixed on either him or Garrus, the promise of an agonizing death clear in their hungry gaze. Shepard raised his rifle and joined Garrus in raining plasma into the approaching horde.

They may as well have been firing spitballs for all the good it did though. One Chryssalid would fall, only for three more to trample it in their rush to get at the fresh meat. They were slowing the things down, but they weren't making any real headway like this.

"Inside!" the commander barked at his companion.

Garrus nodded briefly before pulling out a grenade and throwing it down the corridor. A second later, just as the front ranks of the chryssalids reached it, it unleashed its fury. The corridor served to contain the blast nearly perfectly, utterly decimating the front ranks of the horde. Unfortunately, it also sent the rest of the blast back towards them. Turian and human alike stampeded through the broken door in a rush, bare inches ahead of the storm of shrapnel and flame.

Inside the room was utterly bare, save for a plain podium, utterly free of decoration. Embedded in the top of the podium was a keyboard and a screen proudly displaying three words in large, unfriendly letters. "Enter authorization code," Garrus read aloud as he took up position beside the thing. "What in the spirits' name is the code?"

"Knowing EDI," Shepard answered distractedly as he began firing out of the door back at the recovered wave of chryssalids. "Probably something aggravating."

"Right," the former detective agreed. "Let's see... ' R'" A harsh buzz rang out, echoed a moment later by angry cries from the chryssalids.

Shepard swore again and leaned around the door to pour plasma into their advance, but not even the corpses of their dead slowed them anymore. The horde had split, sending huge numbers of them running along the walls and ceiling, freeing themselves from having to worry about tripping hazards. He did what he could to drive them back, but there were just too many. In a matter of seconds, he was forced to abandon his position at the door, stumbling back as one of the bugs tried to stab him through the wall.

"Hurry up!" he barked as he filled the doorway with plasma from where he lay on the floor. Another buzz sounded, pulling a bloodthirsty chitter from seemingly every single one of the crazed bugs.

"I'm trying!" Garrus snapped back. He slammed a fist into the podium. "It's not like she tol-" He froze mid-syllable, abruptly enough that Shepard couldn't stop himself from glancing over in concern.

"Of course..." he breathed in realization. The turian's taloned fingers danced across the keyboard, tapping out a sequence of five characters in a fraction of a second.

A bright chime rang out over the cries of the chryssalids and the roar of plasma fire, and a second later a wave of white fire burned through the rear wall, consuming everything it touched. Shepard had just enough time to feel a sliver of worry before it was upon him, sublimating his surroundings into an unending perfect whiteness.

"Damnit EDI," he grumbled into the infinite white void. "Did you have to kill us too?"

"No," the AI answered matter-of-factly. "But it was more fun this way."

"She's got you there, Commander," Garrus chimed in unhelpfully. The turian abruptly appeared beside Shepard and nodded a greeting. "We weren't going to make it out of that room alive anyway. By the way EDI," he called out. "That was clever with the code. I almost didn't figure it out."

"I will have to make the next one more difficult then," she answered with a hint of challenge in her tone.

Garrus's mandibles worked into the turian equivalent of a smirk. "Looking forward to it."

"Hold on a minute," Shepard interrupted with an annoyed glower. "What was the code?"

"You mean the great Commander Shepard hasn't solved the riddle?" Garrus asked in mock surprise. He turned his smirk on the commander. "In that case, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

"Damnit Garrus," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Just tel-"

"Commander," EDI interrupted suddenly in a businesslike tone. "Nihlus is requesting your presence in the comm room. The Citadel Council has news regarding the search for Saren."

Shepard's mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds as it struggled to catch up with the sudden redirection of his mind. His argument with Garrus was completely forgotten in the rush of excitement. Finally, another lead, and this one from the Council itself. Maybe they could finally catch up with the bastard.

The sim went black as he disconnected his suit and began to strip out of it. "Tell him I'm on my way, EDI."

The door to the comm room slid open without fanfare, abruptly stopping the murmur of conversation between the occupants. The resident Spectre turned away from the trio of holograms representing the Citadel Council and nodded a greeting to the commander. Shepard returned the nod easily and charged ahead with his normal observance of diplomatic niceties. "Nihlus, Councillors. EDI said you have something for me?"

"Straight to business then," the turian councillor said with a curt nod of acknowledgment and a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "We have received information on Saren. We believed you would be interested."

"Damn straight," Shepard agreed immediately. He stepped up beside Nihlus and crossed his arms over his chest. "What've you got?"

"We dispatched several members of the Salarian Special Tasks Group, or STG, to operate parallel to your investigation," the salarian councillor explained. "Yesterday, we received a message from one such group of operatives in the Traverse. Unfortunately, the message was garbled to the point of uselessness."

"So we don't actually have anything?" Shepard asked with a raised brow. He had to admit to no small amount of confusion. Surely the leaders of the largest galactic power had better things to do with their time than bother him over nothing.

"The message was unintelligible, but it was sent on a channel reserved for mission critical communications," the salarian councillor countered, the first glimmers of heat entering into his voice. "We do not know what they were trying to say, but we do know that it is related to Saren, and that it is important."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Nihlus. "What do you think? Is it worth checking out?"

The turian nodded without hesitation. "The STG is rarely wrong, and it is more than what we have now."

"I was thinking more about a trap," the commander replied with a grimace. "This sounds like the perfect bait to lure us into an ambush."

"STG security has not been penetrated in over a century," the salarian councillor said firmly, his expression mulish.

"But if anyone were to do it," the turian councillor picked up smoothly, ignoring the sharp glance from his amphibious colleague. "It would be Saren. It is possible the message is a trap, but we, I believe it to be legitimate. In either case, we will be committing our own resources to investigate as soon as possible."

"Fair enough," Shepard said. He weighed the options himself, but no matter how he approached it, there was really only one answer he could give. "We'll check it out then. Where are we headed?"

"The signal originated from the planet Virmire," the salarian councillor said, a faint trace of umbrage in his voice. "It is a garden world in the Sentry Omega cluster along the Terminus border of the Traverse."

"Thanks," Shepard said with a nod. "Was there anything else?"

"No," the asari councillor said. "That will be all. Good luck, Commander."

The other two councillors echoed the sentiment and all three holograms died, leaving Nihlus and Shepard alone. "Twenty credits says the team's dead and we're walking into a trap," the commander offered into the ensuing silence.

"I will pass. That is what I believe you humans call a 'sucker bet'," he said with far too much cheer, given the subject. He sobered quickly however and gave Shepard a grave look. "There was one thing the Council neglected to mention about the message, Commander. We managed to decode two words of it."

"And what would those be?"

"'Krogan' and 'experiment'."