Solana released her anxiously-held breath when the medbay door opened and her brother didn't enter alone. The relief, however, was short-lived. Human faces were still a challenge for her to read—all those malleable parts combined in a seemingly infinite and confusing number of ways—but Solana didn't need to be an expert to understand that the woman Garrus guided into the room wasn't the same one she had cheerfully loaned her wheelchair to in the first place. Nor, however, had she regressed back to the earlier empty-eyed amnesiac.

Solana rather suspected this iteration of Shepard—pale and drawn but with a set jaw and fierce fire in her eyes—was the Shepard of the newsvids and overblown myths, the woman who'd almost singlehandedly pulled the galaxy from the brink of destruction by pure determination and sheer force of will. Even hobbled and confined by injury, this Shepard was one Solana had no desire to cross. If even half the stories were even partly true, this was the Shepard who'd head-butted krogan, brokered peace between some of the most fractious races in the galaxy, and fought thresher maws and Reapers. On foot.

Strange, though, that the hero was the one who seemed loneliest of all, even with Garrus at her back. Solana supposed this was also the Shepard who'd made the calls that sent thousands—millions—to their deaths. Not a comfortable weight for anyone to carry. Even a woman as capable as Commander Shepard.

Even shuttered as he was evidently trying to keep it, Garrus' face was an open book to Solana, and everything she read there only confused her further. Perhaps unadulterated joy and reconciliation had been a bit much to hope for, but her brother—if possible—looked even worse than he had before. A hundred different proverbs attested to the indomitability of the turian spirit, but Garrus' expression proved even the most valiant warrior could meet with defeat. If Shepard's eyes were fiery, Garrus' were cold. They burned in a different way. A worse way. For a moment, Solana was convinced a stranger looked out at her from behind her brother's eyes and she barely contained the shudder that shook her spine, not holding her brother's gaze any longer than necessary.

Solana expected Shepard to take the lead, but the commander said nothing, leaving it to Garrus to cross the room and retrieve the book Solana still held clasped in her hands while the doctor, in turn, fussed. Shepard bore it stoically, even sparing Dr. Chakwas a brief smile. Evidently she passed muster; the doctor's examination was thorough but brief.

Garrus turned the book over once, twice, and as clearly as she saw his frustration and his distress, Solana now saw regret. And, more disturbingly, guilt. If Shepard hadn't been sitting so near and watching so closely, Solana would have insisted the oversight wasn't his fault. Hell, she'd have reached out and comforted him, not that he'd have accepted her comfort even if they had no audience at all. She couldn't even think of a joke or a quip to break the tension, so she merely folded her hands in her lap and waited for her brother's questions. Or rage. Both felt equally inevitable.

Garrus turned the volume until he was looking at it turian-style, reading top to bottom, right to left. She suspected he didn't even hear the low growl in his subharmonics as he saw the symbols spelling out Archangel in turian script. Still Solana said nothing. Still Shepard said nothing. Garrus flipped through the pages agonizingly slowly, pausing every time he spotted another letter or number. Finally, he closed the book again and shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. One word and a bunch of nonsense?"

"Code?" Solana offered, though the waver of uncertainty in her subharmonics said she'd had no luck breaking it. Garrus' expression darkened even further. "I thought maybe… C-Sec? Something I'm not familiar with, anyway."

"Codes," Garrus spat. Solana blinked at the virulence. Behind Garrus, Shepard closed her eyes and bowed her head, as though the violence of the word had reached out and struck her. Garrus didn't see it. By the time her brother turned again, Shepard's eyes were once again open and her chin once again lifted.

"Is it a message or a warning, though?" Shepard asked. Even the tenor of her voice was different—firmer, harder—and Solana's mandibles fluttered with surprise. Shepard glanced at her long enough to smile a very small smile that vanished almost as quickly as it pulled at her lips, and Solana was left with the uncomfortable realization that the human was far, far better at reading turian expressions than vice versa. "Perhaps your former identity's not quite as secret as it once was, but it's still not exactly common knowledge. Either it's a friend who knows you—and knew Archangel—or it's a very well-informed enemy." Shepard's lips twitched again, quenching a little of the heat in her eyes with the briefest hint of mirth. "We have plenty of enemies, but most aren't particularly clever about it."

"Cerberus?" Garrus asked, grimacing. "Would it stand without the Illusive Man? I mean, well enough to organize something like this?"

Shepard lifted one shoulder and leaned forward, resting her forearms against her legs. Her limbs, to Solana's eyes, looked impossibly fragile. "The dog did have three heads."

"Huh?" Solana didn't realize she was the one who'd spoken until both Shepard and Garrus turned to look at her. She kicked her one good leg weakly. "Dog?"

Shepard didn't smile. A line creased her forehead. Still, her tone was patient as she explained, "Yeah. Old human myth. Cerberus was the three-headed dog who guarded the Underworld. Could be the Illusive Man was only the centermost head."

Solana tilted her head. "Strange name for a human terrorist group."

"Not really," Shepard said. "It was the self-proclaimed guardian of human interests. Of course, speaking of Underworlds, Cerberus is also a prime example of the road to hell being paved with good intentions. However they started, things got really dark, really fast." She scrubbed her palms down the front of her medical gown.

Garrus said quietly, "You used them, Shepard."

Even to Solana's untrained ears, the sigh Shepard uttered plainly said this was an old argument. "We used each other. It is what it is. Even—even without EDI, there's probably enough information in the ship's computer to attempt to run that code against anything of Cerberus' we had access to. They'll have changed up in the last year, of course—"

"But it's worth trying," Garrus finished wearily. "It's just… usually a cipher adheres to some kind of internal code, you know? Whatever this is seems… wrong, somehow. Backward. I mean, even aside from finding turian script in a human book."

Startling as a burst of summer rain, Shepard tilted her head back, sending a brilliant grin in Garrus' direction. Even he seemed taken aback. For a moment, Solana saw the ghost of the brother she faintly remembered in the startled openness of his expression. "Backward," Shepard declared, her voice as bright as her expression, almost laughing. "Of course. Garrus, I don't think an enemy left that clue."

He rubbed his free hand along his neck and shifted his weight, almost nervous, from foot to foot. "I'm not following, Shepard."

"Through the Looking Glass," she said, still practically bouncing with excitement. Solana'd never seen such a swift change in demeanor; this Shepard wasn't the lonely hero. She was the clever tactician, the kind of giddy maniac Solana had always pictured her brother ending up with. Granted, she'd always pictured a turian giddy maniac, but she wasn't about to be fussy. A little of the ice in Garrus' eyes cracked. Not completely, but enough to give Solana hope that her brother might completely thaw again someday. "It's backward," Shepard continued. "A looking glass is a mirror. Someone was counting on you and I working together." Strangely, this stole Shepard's smile, leaving her deflated again. "Or… or at least someone was counting on you working with someone human. They took care to leave the Archangel where you'd find it—"

"Except I didn't—"

Shepard shook her head, speaking over him. "You'd have seen it eventually. But it's a two part cipher. The rest of the message wouldn't make sense if you didn't have someone to translate the English for you. May I?"

Garrus dropped the book into her waiting hand; Solana didn't miss the way he was careful not to brush his fingers against Shepard's. Pulling her mandibles tight to her cheeks, she tried to make sense of his reserve, but found she couldn't. Later. Without an audience. She'd ask later. Although she had her doubts that he'd open up to her, even if she begged. Shepard's shoulders sank for a moment, and then she covered the slump with fevered movement, turning the book the human way and turning the pages. Lifting it, she pointed at a scribble. "This is the letter M. Stylized, maybe. Hidden, almost definitely. But now that I know what I'm looking for? Sure." She flipped a few more pages, pointing out other letters, and a couple of numbers. "On their own, they don't make sense. We have to make a list, see if we can marry the two sets into a cohesive whole. I have a hunch mirroring is going to come into it somehow. I want to guess that it's some kind of password. Maybe it's even the code you need to break the—"

"The code we need for the Empire's messages," Garrus interrupted. Shepard nodded as he paced to one side of the medbay and back again. "Damn, Shepard. But… who?"

"Well, if it's Cerberus, it could be someone who agreed with me instead of the Illusive Man, but stayed in their place? Miranda must've kept contacts within the organization." Shepard snorted. "She might've burned the main bridge, but she always had a half-dozen other escape routes planned, I think."

All three of them jerked as the asari, Samara—Solana still couldn't quite believe the woman was a genuine Justicar—spoke, "But Miranda is missing in action." The woman unfolded herself from her seated position at the end of the farthest bed. No part of her movement was wasted or extraneous; Solana couldn't quite swallow down the wide-eyed wonder. "Which is why Dr. T'Soni sent me, and my charge."

"Oh," Shepard said, pinching the bridge of her nose with the hand not holding the book. "That… makes a kind of backward sense, I suppose. Especially if you thought—think—I might be a clone. Brooks at least has experience putting a clone back together again."

"Brooks has experience training a clone to do her bidding," Samara amended. "I am afraid the two are not one and the same. As you appear to have returned to yourself, I fear I should remove her before she might cause more trouble."

Shepard's blunt white teeth bit down on her full bottom lip even as she shook her head. "We're not all convinced I've returned to myself."

"Garrus—" Solana began, without thinking, but Shepard was the one who stopped her.

"Not just Garrus. But even if it were only him… I've had his eyes at my six for a long time, Solana. If he thinks something's off, then I trust his assessment."

The asari's expression was even harder to read than Shepard's. Solana couldn't make sense of it at all. After several long, silent moments, the bowed head was unambiguous enough. "As you wish, Shepard."

Shepard lifted her hands. "Garrus has command of the Normandy. I stand by that decision. It's his call."

They were interrupted by a brief crackle over the comm preceding Specialist Traynor's smooth voice, faintly harried, saying, "Garrus? Sir, I've… I've Admiral Hackett on vidcom. Shall I… delay?"

Shepard looked to Garrus. Hopefully, Solana thought. Her brother's expression had gone cool again, the ice hardening in his eyes.

"Give me a second, Traynor. A private second, if you can." The link cracked again as Traynor disconnected. Garrus glanced at their faces; Solana saw his eyes linger on Shepard's, clearly weighing some data points Solana didn't have access to. After a deep inhale and an even slower exhale, Garrus admitted, "My father suspects someone in the admiral's organization. Perhaps—perhaps even the admiral himself."

The fire kindled again in Shepard's eyes. "All the more reason to speak to him, then. He might be caught off-guard if he's not expecting me." She stopped, touching her fingertips briefly to her mouth before lowering her hand again. When she spoke again, her voice was deeper. Sadder, maybe. "If you'll permit it, sir. This is your call, too."

Her brother's subharmonics were painfully strained as he said, "Shepard… you don't have to—"

"You really should have a rank, though," Shepard continued, almost blithely. If not for the way her hands clutched the wheelchair's arms, Solana might actually have been convinced. "Commander Vakarian? Captain? Or are you an admiral now, with all those saluting generals? Admiral Vakarian has a nice ring. Almost as good as Primarch. Though I assume Victus still holds his seat." She wiggled her eyebrows strangely, but the gesture made Garrus laugh, so Solana figured it had some meaning she just really didn't understand. She wondered, though, if Shepard knew Garrus' voice well enough to hear the discomfort beneath the laugh.

"You're right about one thing," Garrus finally said.

"Yeah?" Shepard interrupted. "You that close to the Primarch's seat after all, Vakarian?"

He glowered, but with a hint of playfulness that made Solana's heart twist. "Definitely not right about that. You're right that Hackett'll never see you coming. If he's… if there's something going on with him, he might be surprised enough to let the mask slip."

Shepard's lips twitched. "Good cop, bad cop?"

Garrus almost smiled. So close. "Only if I'm the bad cop."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Garrus touched a few controls on his omni-tool. "Traynor? Let the admiral know I'll be right up."

"Uh. Just you, sir?"

"As far as the admiral's concerned, yes."

After a slightly too-long pause, Traynor said, "Understood, sir. Ma'am."

Shepard and Garrus exchanged a look. Solana couldn't read that, either, but she knew they spoke volumes between them. "Well," she said with over-exaggerated cheer, "I suppose that means you need to keep the wheelchair a little longer. I'll just stay here and work on breaking that code and being the hero, shall I?"

Garrus grimaced. Shepard smiled. And for a moment, Solana let herself pretend she didn't see the fire and ice burning them both from within.