So I was all ready to publish this last week, and then I realized I really wanted to add that scene that I hadn't thought was necessary, and so I had to go back and do that. I had an usual number of new readers sign up in the last week, so welcome everyone. And thanks to Lord Schmodder for the review.

It seems that fellow FF writer 'alienyouthct' has decided to borrow of few words of Thessié from me, or will in the future, for a Faith(of Buffy fame)/ME2-3 story. I'll drop it in my favorites list if you're interested.

Edit: Fixed mistaken use of Bahak instead of Balak in the conversation with Kirrahe, thanks to Fruityone for the correction. Also traded the unfortunate use of 'normally' for 'often' in the brief discussion of Salarian alternative relationships.

Edit(again): NonSolus pointed out another error in the same section. I went over everything. Found quite a few errors, actually. Maybe I need an editor?


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Foresight

"Ungh, Kara," Emily groaned, standing in the doorway of her flat in nothing but a nightshirt. Her brown eyes still unfocused with sleep, and her hair tousled, even though it was nearly mid-morning, Citadel time. The air tasted of bitter coffee, rising from a mug clutched firmly in her hands. "What d'you want?"

"Emily. We need to talk," she said, pushing past the younger woman. The door opened immediately onto a small kitchen and dining room, flowing smoothly into a living room with windows looking out along the ward. Emily sighed and led the way to the square dining table, slouching in a chair on the far side.

"If this is about my reports, it's my job to ask questions, even if you don't like them."

Kara shook her head, following the young journalist, leaning against a chair back instead of sitting. "It isn't that, Emily. I think you've been honest, which is a start, and even insightful at times."

"There's a 'but' in there somewhere."

"No. I have another—"

"Em? Who was that?" someone asked from the bedroom. A man, from the sound of his voice, and he didn't wait for a response, stalking confidently into the dining room. Thin, dark-skinned, and quite naked, he paused in shock when he noticed her.

Kara smiled at him, and let her gaze trail along his body, neither ignoring or making an issue of his state of undress. She didn't find him to be an attractive man, though his parts were all in the right place, and he appeared to find her presence arousing.

"Shit, you're Shepard," he yelped, covering himself with his hands, before scampering back through the door in a much less dignified manner than he'd arrived.

"Boyfriend?" Kara inquired. In truth, she found the incident amusing, but who Emily spent time with, and what they wore, was not her business. It did complicate things, though.

Emily shrugged. "Maybe. He may not be exciting, but he's decent enough." She turned back to Kara. "Though I doubt you came here to talk about boys."

"What would you say to a chance to ride along, for the rest of the mission?" Kara asked, meeting the journalist's brown eyes with her own.

"Really?" Emily said excitedly, her first, impulsive response. "I'd love… to think about it."

Since she began doing interviews with the Normandy's crew, almost twelve days ago, Emily had talked with enough of them to feel invested in the mission. Orlanis and Kirrahe, Adams, Ehigha, and even Keyx, who had been more uninformative than critical. Kara had even sent Tali in to talk about the Geth, and the young Quarian had a talent for charming people. That didn't, and couldn't, change the fact that her life, including her naked not-a-boyfriend, was on the Citadel, and that the adventures of the first human Spectre wasn't the only thing she reported on.

"I don't need a decision from you until we're ready to leave," Kara said, "but that may come without much warning."

"If you could just explain what this is about, that'd be a good start on convincing me," Emily suggested.

"I don't have any revelations for you," Kara laughed. "Sorry. It's an opportunity for you to get closer to the action, and to get to know the crew and I better."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You'd be horrible in sales. Never tell your customers the truth."

"We can't always make informed decisions, Emily. I can't point to any one thing I need you for, but I think working more closely together will benefit us both. You've already gotten Khalisah's attention, and her insults will only make her look foolish, and you more popular."

"Ah, now that's not fair," the young woman protested, "exploiting my weaknesses like that. I didn't think I was that transparent."

Khalisah had a talent for attracting attention, mostly by making a fool of herself, her sometimes obvious lies provoking a hostile response from people with more knowledge, and a rabid defense from her fans. Often a better policy was not to acknowledge people like her at all, because for them, ideology would override any rational argument.

"If you're coming, you should pack now. One storage locker for personal effects. Professional equipment is extra, but bring only what you need."

"I'll pack, but I haven't made my decision yet," Emily stated firmly. She turned to the bedroom door, as her boyfriend reappeared, now fully dressed.

"What decision, Em? Are you going somewhere?"

Kara had expected him to wait until she had gone, too embarrassed to face her, though he did avoid looking in her direction. "I imagine you'd prefer to have this discussion without me," she said.

"Yeah, thanks," Emily nodded.

Kara returned the younger woman's nod, and withdrew.


"Don't tell me, Shepard," Sparatus said, frowning at her over the same narrow conference table which they'd met around over a month before, "you've more demands to make of us."

Kara smiled at him. "No demands, Councillor. Suggestions. You're free to ignore them, but the survival of the galaxy rests on your making the right choice."

The Turian Councillor glared at her. "Ah, yes. This is about those Reapers of yours."

"The Geth Embassy has confirmed that Sovereign is not of Prothean design. Calls itself Nazara," Valern interrupted. "There could be others, hidden. Much of the galaxy is unexplored."

"Yes. You know from my last report that I allowed Liara to meld with the life-form ExoGeni uncovered on Feros, the Thorian, and that it gave her knowledge of the Protheans. Since then, she asked to link with me and re-experience the Prothean visions I acquired from the Beacons, and was able to trace their source to Ilos. She explained why its inaccessible."

"Ilos?" Adar said. "An expedition there was planned just a few years ago, it was canceled after an outbreak of violence in the Terminus Systems. Perhaps that was a mistake."

Potentially. Had an expedition been sent and arrived safely at Ilos, it could have located Relay 112 from the far side, effectively re-connecting the sector to the rest of the galaxy. She and the Normandy could have arrived there already, and begun their search for the Conduit, with the aid of the research team.

"We still have a chance to get there before Saren," Kara said, shaking her head slowly. "Besides, if your expedition had found the Conduit years ago, we would have lost any chance of stopping him."

"Are you asking us to prepare and expedition now?" Sparatus asked.

Valern shook his head. "Wouldn't work. Our scientists have gone over the specifications provided by the Geth, in detail. Sovereign can reach an estimated speed of thirty-five light years per day, and may incorporate advanced static discharge technology. It would get there before us."

Kara nodded. She hadn't known the details of the Salarian's analysis, but the Reaper's superior technology was already in evidence. The only question would be how quickly Saren learned of the expedition, and connected it to the Conduit. "We need to make a priority of learning everything we can about the Reapers," she said, "starting with Indoctrination. We have all Saren's notes, and his chief researcher is in custody."

"The Justicars made an investigation into Rana Thanoptis, when they learned you had rescued her from Virmire," Adar said. "She's a superb neuroscientist, with additional background in psychology. She also had access to Indoctrinated subjects for study. What chance do we have of success, when she failed?"

[The following was added to Chapter 11: Renewal; 'The Justicars were the internal security service of the Asari Republic, and an unfortunate necessity. Mostly made up of matriarchs with commando backgrounds, they operated with a high degree of independence, following a strict code of conduct designed to protect the innocent from their scrutiny. Highly honored, and sometimes called upon to arbitrate civil disputes, the harshest punishments in the Republic were reserved for Justicars who abused their position.']

"I don't know," Kara began, pausing thoughtfully. She had studied the behavioral observations made by Saren, as well as Rana and her predecessor. Early symptoms included a subtle reverence towards Sovereign, which the Asari scientist had certainly showed. "If she were subjected to mild Indoctrination herself, then her failure might have come from subconscious manipulation, and, even if I'm wrong, there's no reason to believe that the Reapers are beyond our understanding. All we need is time and opportunity."

"Agreed," Valern nodded. "I'll have a list of qualified Salarian neuroscientists prepared."

"I met an Asari scientist, Ilya Tanral. Her background in comparative neurobiology could prove invaluable," Kara suggested. Sovereign had demonstrated an ability to Indoctrinate at least three sapient organic species, which might be key to understanding the ability.

Adar nodded. "Without knowing what Saren intends, I agree that your proposal is a justified precaution. If he is, as your report implied, Indoctrinated himself, it reveals just how vulnerable we would be if a head of state, or even one of us, were to fall."

Sparatus' jaw tightened. The Turian's strict hierarchy would be especially vulnerable. "Fine. Is that all?"

"Yes. Thank you for your help," she said, standing. As she walked out of the room and out into the Council Hall, she noticed Tevos' light footfalls behind her, and paused.

"Adar?"

"I thought you'd like to know, the evacuation of Feros was completed four hours ago. The colonists resisted violently, and I'm afraid five were killed."

She closed her eyes, and tried to shake off any feelings of regret. There was nothing she could have done, unless she had been willing to attempt to kill the Thorian. That would have been genocide, and there was every chance that the colonists would have tried to stop her—and then she would have been the one who had to fight them.

"Miguel Torres and his guards handled the evacuation, but in the end they were trapped between a host of creepers and the hostile colonists. That's when people started dying. Torres himself, and half his guards, didn't make it either."

Kara drew a deep breath, and nodded. She hadn't liked or trusted them, but that didn't mean she wanted to see them dead. Still, they were gone, and no matter how much she blamed herself, an early death was not an usual fate for mercenaries or pirates. Her concern had to be with the consequences. "Does the Alliance know?"

"The ambassador has been informed, yes. We've received no official response."

That was good news, at least. A quick response would have been inflammatory, when something more measured would serve better. "The crew deserve thanks for accepting the job. Let them know that they have mine."

"Of course. We'll be sure you're informed if anything comes up."


Kara brushed her fingers through her freshly-cut hair, as she walked up the Normandy's cargo ramp. She felt better with it done, and not only because it kept clear of her eyes. It reestablished her carefully unkempt appearance, more roguish and lest respectable than she did with it grown out. The bay was empty except for piles of new crates, one of which Garrus had open.

"Hey, Shepard," the Turian grinned as she passed. The crates he was checking were marked as containing dextro rations. "The loading crew moved all the gear from Orlanis' team back onboard this morning. I'm just checking up on the rest of the supplies. I, uh, don't think you're everyone's favorite person for today, though."

"I hope I didn't bring last night to an abrupt end," Kara said, nodding back at him.

Garrus closed and latched the crate. "I haven't seen so many CSec personnel get drunk so fast since I earned my commission, and they were all rookies. Kaliran and Auran didn't seem to mind the change, but I'd stay out of Orlanis' way."

"Do you think I did the right thing?" Kara asked, leaning against a pile of boxes that'd been pushed up against the interior bulkhead and secured.

"Even Turians need reminding of their duty, at times," Garrus shrugged. "We also need her help."

Kara smiled faintly. "I think more on the lives torn apart. It seems hypocritical, with me enjoying a warm bed, to keep Orlanis away from hers."

"Liara isn't here just to keep you company," Garrus reminded her, "and as you pointed out, ours aren't the only lives at stake. Someone has to take up the fight."

"Yeah." Someone, and she supposed that anyone would wish it could be someone else. Except for the foolish and the insane. "Do you know if Keyx is onboard?"

The Turian's expression darkened at the name. "He left just after we arrived. You'd be better off without that one, Shepard. He actually claimed that you were abducted by the Turians when you were fifteen, who programmed you with Salarian assistance, and that you're meant to help destroy humanity. Apparently, the Council 'activated' you by making you a Spectre."

Kara snorted. He'd gotten that one from Khalisah's 'Lost Shepard', a history of her life that barely managed to follow the basic facts laid down in her official military record, and made no attempt to explore her beliefs or motivations. A pure ideological assault, she had not even recognized the Kara Shepard which it portrayed, and found it shocking that Keyx might.

"He also suggested that he might 'pull the stick out of my 'Turian ass' and beat me with it, if I didn't get out of his way."

"You were right to let him go," she said, "and even if it isn't worth my time, I'd like to speak with him again. Would you check with CSec, and see if they've spotted him?"

He nodded. "Sure, but if you do go out looking for him, do me a favor and don't go alone? If he's as twisted up as he sounds, he might try and pull something crazy."

Keyx was, for the most part, the law abiding type, so he would go to the Alliance first. Convincing some patriotic idiot at the Embassy to lay an ambush for her would be the worst kind of public relations disaster for both sides, and possibly shift relations between them and the Council to outright hostility. Even if he had no such intentions, she wasn't sure of what she could say to him, or even if she could say anything helpful. Maybe leaving him to Ehigha was the best she could do. "I'll take Wrex, if it comes to that."

"Good choice. You can hardly accuse a Krogan of cooperating with us villainous Turians," Garrus grinned. "Not if you want to walk away with your limbs still attached, anyway."

Kara laughed. "I hear he's been short tempered of late," she agreed. "Let me know when you find something."

"Yeah," the Turian nodded, heading out the cargo bay door as she turned further into the ship.


Kara found Karen and Ehigha in medical storage, checking through their own crates of new medical supplies. Preparing for the potential needs of the extensively multi-species crew left little extra space in the small room. Thankfully, Liara had transferred the artifacts from Feros to the Citadel Archives, and moved the rest of her things into Kara's cabin.

"Kara," Karen said, looking up when she entered. "If you're looking for Sayuri, she and Pema went to see that new Blasto vid. Joker was talking it up over breakfast."

"No doubt I'll have to endure a few jokes about my not causing enough explosions," Kara sighed.

"He told them already," Karen said, smiling fondly. "I gave Sayuri her followup before she left, and everything looks good. She'll be ready for combat in a week or two."

Kara nodded, and moved to touch Ehigha on the shoulder. He had given her his usual nod of greeting, before returning to his task. "I need to speak with you for a moment."

"If this about Keyx," Ehigha said, following her out of the storeroom, "I don't know where he went."

Sitting on the edge of the nearest bed, Kara sighed. She hadn't asked Ehigha to reveal anything of his patient's progress before, believing that Keyx would speak to her when he was ready. "How was he doing?"

"I'm not sure," the doctor frowned, rubbing his bearded chin. "I thought he had accepted his loss, but Janine sent him a vid of Sarah's funeral service two days ago. I'd guess that he just needed to get away from here."

"Away from me, you mean," Kara said quietly. Everything to do with the Normandy probably reminded him of her, and of the loss he blamed her for. Maybe that was why he had gone, just to get away, and nothing more. "I've asked Garrus to try and find him."

"Maybe you should just let him go. If he doesn't trust you, he won't be of any help to the mission. Some of the others worry about Earth, but they trust you to hold things together, but Keyx can't, not until he realizes that you aren't responsible for the death of his child."

She hated the idea of abandoning anyone, but she supposed it was his choice. He would, like the rest of the crew, receive the recall signal before the Normandy departed, and have time enough to rejoin them. "I'll have Garrus let you know what he finds out. What to do about it is your choice."

"This isn't easy for you, I know. But he isn't under any threat, and he doesn't want you to save him."

Kara frowned irritably at the young doctor, dismissing him with a faint nod. She still didn't like being analyzed.


"Mír of Athela wrote the best poetry I've ever experienced, despite the translation to modern Thessié. Salaya introduced me to her. I read an English translation of her, but… it doesn't work. It made me think about how different we are. I know Galactic civilization would be impossible without our translators, but differences in how we think, and the nuances of speech, they're glossed over. We communicate, but only on a crude level. Sometimes, I think we forget that you're not just blue women."

"That's not something I thought about much, buried in ancient ruins," Liara said, pausing to sip an orange Athelian wine from a short glass. A premium region for growing the Asari wine-making fruit of choice, hearing its name had brought Mír to the front of Kara's thoughts. "I think our ability to talk like this has made us closer, yes. I learned one of the Salarian dialects—Isusas—when I was younger, and I remember just how alien it seemed. They seemed."

Kara reached across the table, to squeeze Liara's hand. She had a mind to coax a happily engaged expression out of her lover, not one of serious thought. "For a species that doesn't often have relationships like ours, Two was remarkably moving."

"That was the first time I really felt what prejudice meant," Liara replied, meeting Kara's green eyes with her own blue ones. "They were just so happy together, and everyone else insisted that Salarians didn't feel like that, but they just didn't care. They believed in what they had."

Two was a seminal work of Salarian gay romance. Their soft-shelled eggs were externally fertilized, so that they had no act analogous to sexual intercourse, but the vid had expertly expanded on the notion that they could experience the emotion of love—a relatively new concept to them, at the time, borrowed from their then-recent first-contact with the Asari.

"What about… Silmére." There was another sublime piece of art. Peaceful Asari society did not provide the most interesting story material, and so their most famous and engaging stories took place in times of turmoil—in this case, the defining period of Thessian history, eztakelle tiya, or the Last War, when Anarchist forces fought for and won control over the future of their world.

[eztei; n., death + kelle; adj., unpleasant or cruel, by deliberate intent = eztakelle; n., war. Tiya; adj., last or final, but can also mean latest. The name was chosen in the period immediately following the war, using the later meaning, partly out of fear that war would return to Thessia, and doubts as to the endurance of the society they were buildings. Although Asari commandos and soldiers fought in both the Rachni war and the Krogan Rebellion, the whole of their society was never drawn in, as it was during the Last War, and Thessia itself had not been threatened by conflict, so the name was never changed.]

There was the expression Kara wanted; not just the faint curve of Liara's lips, but the tone of her voice, and the light in her eyes. "When she found her daughter, after the war ended… after all they'd been through. The joy she felt, and how it made her admit her feelings to Kaleen. I felt so happy for her."

"She deserved it," Kara smiled. Silmére, a young matron when the war started, was dragged into the fighting when her town was razed. She believed her eight year old daughter died in the attack, along with the child's kerta, and though she never found out which side led the assault, she entered the war herself. "It was the first Asari story I ever read, even before I left Arcturus station. When the war finally ended, and she looked around… she no longer knew how to do anything but fight, not even to feel. She hated herself, as I hated who I was."

"So you went kyrandéa," Liara said. "Like her."

A kyrandé was an Asari, usually a matron or older, who chose to wander in search of wisdom, different from a yashandril in search of adventure. "Did it work?"

"I don't think so," Liara teased, "but I love you anyway."

Kara laughed softly, and sipped at her tea. She enjoyed sex, but the quiet, intimate moments—they were the ones that she treasured. Sitting with her lover in a café, talking about things unimportant to the fate of the galaxy, was something she didn't do enough.


The restaurant specified in the note was dingy and poorly lit, the tables sticky with grease. Not the sort of place that Kara frequented, but for those who preferred their food cheap and plentiful, she could see the appeal. It was also fairly deep in the wards, far away from the bright corridors and frequent CSec patrols that marked the more respectable areas. This section had a reputation for collecting an eclectic, and largely unpleasant, alien population, including Vorcha, Batarians, and a small population of Drell who had refused to indenture themselves to the Hanar, when scyphozoan-like race had rescued them from their doomed homeworld.

Kara took a seat in the corner, from which she could keep an eye on the door. She had no reason to expect a trap, but remained wary of random violence aimed at a vulnerable lone human. Even the server, an overweight Drell with a sharp tongue, looked as though he might be sizing her up for an encounter in a dark alley as he demanded that she order something. Not caring to test the food, she settled for a glass of water, much to his annoyance.

While she waited for her contact to arrive, she set her omnitool on the table, and began checking the day's news. It had been a week since Hackett had taken full command of the Alliance Navy, and she had hoped that reports of successful raids on pirate outposts would have begun to filter out. Whether he suspected Batarian government or Cerberus involvement in supplying the pirates, he had good reason to keep things quiet. What was clear, however, was that Hackett's new deployment strategy had increased interception of incoming raids, at the cost of more lost ships and personnel.

She shut off the display as a suspiciously hooded figure came through the door, scanning the room as if looking for someone. When it spotted her, she noticed the light reflecting off two pairs of eyes, and she nodded.

"Kara. It's been too long," the figure said, sitting down across from her. It spoke with the rough voice of a male Batarian, and a familiar one at that.

"Fifteen years," Kara said, smiling faintly at the memories his presence brought up, of a fifteen year-old girl debating galactic politics in a much more friendly café. "I thought you'd gone back to Khar'shan."

The Batarian hissed. "I did. It was worse than I remembered, and I escaped barely ahead of the Enforcers. Look at you, though—the harmless little Earth girl is a Spectre now."

Kara shook her head, smiling faintly at his description. She would have objected to it then, but it seemed like so much had changed since. "Yes."

"Narelle told me what happened, and why you left. I never expected to hear from you again, but then the Hegemony broadcast parts of the Alliance's Torfan hearings, and there you were, indomitable as usual. I guess you found what you were looking for on Thessia."

"Yes," she said, her gaze drifting downward. "Asari can be very generous to those they trust."

The Batarian smiled at her. "You were quick to earn my trust," he said, leaning in closer. His four dark eyes studied her face intently, before he continued in a whisper. "I still have friends back home, and sometimes they hear things. The militarists finally managed to swing the Hegemony into accepting that peace with humans is hopeless, thanks to the Alliance's latest propaganda campaign, and now they've pushed through a first-strike terrorist attack."

"Just the excuse the Alliance wants," Kara muttered. "Can it be stopped?"

"That's why I contacted you," Kleth said. "Officially, they attack in eight days, but that's a deception. It'll be sooner. The target is in the Asgard system."

The Asgard system was home to humanity's second oldest colony, a world with almost four and a half million inhabitants, plus an uncertain number of refugees arriving from smaller and more vulnerable colonies. The Alliance Navy had maintained a sizable response fleet in the system since the raids started, but Hackett had reassigned most of it as part of his new strategy. "Anything more?"

"Just a name: Balak. He's an experienced slaver, with no official connection to the government. If he were stopped, the Hegemony would be glad that a tragedy was averted."

Kara brushed her hand through her hair and sighed. The Normandy could be on the scene in four days, but that wouldn't matter if she couldn't find Balak in time. She could try the STG—they kept a close watch on the Batarians, especially the more aggressive slavers. "Thanks, Kleth. I'll take care of it."


"Normandy, this is Shepard," Kara said, as her car cruised over the surface of the Wards, towards the Presidium ring. Knowing that the Reapers built the Relays had to raise the same question about the Citadel—its outer hull, which would protect the interior if the arms were ever closed, was made of the same advanced material. The Council had made the same deduction, quietly accelerating several planned projects to investigate the inner workings of the station. There were even rumors that a Salarian scientist had discovered a way of scanning the Citadel's enigmatic caretakers, the insectoid Keepers. She assumed that they too were a product of Reaper technology.

"Fiona here, Cap'n."

"Recall the crew. I want the ship ready to leave in an hour. And make sure Emily Wong is informed of our departure time."

"Aye, ma'am. There's, uh, another matter. Garrus passed on an alert from CSec—Aoki, Ásdísdotter and T'ao are in overnight holding. The official report is that they started a fight in the wards…"

If she had the time, she would have followed her instinct and left them, but she couldn't afford to leave anyone behind. "I'll take care of it," she sighed. "I need to talk to Kirrahe, if you could put him on."

"Right away, ma'am."

Had they picked a fight with the Blasto crowd over, well, her? In that case, Sayuri and Brynja were her primary suspects. Not the sort of behavior she could condone, if true, but here her suspicions were well ahead of any real data.

"What is it, Captain?" Kirrahe asked, in his usual impatient tone.

"I need to you to contact the STG, and see if they have any recent information on a Batarian named Balak. He's a slaver, with some unofficial links to the government. I've got intel that he's planning an attack on Terra Nova in less than eight days, but I need more."

"The STG hates sharing unnecessary information with operatives," Kirrahe said.

The car was approaching the Presidium security checkpoint, maneuvering to land on an open pad. "Tell them it might prevent a war."

"Got it, Captain. Kirrahe out."


"Captain, ma'am!" T'ao snapped, jumping to her feet and throwing a sharp salute, despite the fact that none of them were wearing uniforms. A dark bruise had appeared on her cheek, her only obvious injury. Not really the brawling type, she may have tried to avoid getting involved.

Kara waved the enlisted engineer down, frowning as Brynja and Sayuri turned in her direction. "The Normandy is leaving in less than an hour," she said, softly, "and I'm already one person down. Which one of you is going to explain why you're in this cell?"

Bryjna studied Kara's boots as if they were something interesting, and not the Alliance's standard issue footwear. Sayuri merely avoided her gaze, while Pema looked to the other two—both outranked her, after all.

"Ensign Ásdísdotter," Kara snapped, "you're the senior officer present. I require an explanation."

"We, well…"

The young blond had gone pale, and Sayuri sighed, touching her shoulder. "I invited her to see Blasto with Pema and me. Shitty vid, you know, but I needed a distraction."

'More explosions than lines of dialogue' could be a tagline of the genre, though Kara couldn't claim to know it well. The action hero genre was a primarily human obsession, with the Blasto franchise being their creation, as well as most of its audience. "Go on."

"So, the vid ends, and as we're leaving I noticed a group of sweaty prats implying that that stupid Hanar was a better Spectre than you…" Sayrui said. Kara didn't accept her implied explanation—her voice lacked the necessary passion. It had annoyed her, but not angered her.

Kara turned her gaze on Brynja. Despite the reputation of the marines, and Sayuri's superior strength, she suspected the blond of starting the altercation; her Japanese companion tended to shrug off insults.

"I, uh, told them they were ignorant pissants, who didn't know what they were talking about," Brynja admitted, still staring at the floor.

"What did they say to make you attack them?" Kara asked quietly.

"They said you were a whore for the Turians," Brynja whispered. Her jaw tightened, lips pressed closed in a thin line that cut off any further words, but they hardly needed saying. Threatening rape was an unfortunately popular tactic, at least among among certain types of men. That they were, in Kara's case, unable to follow through, did not make it acceptable, or any less vile. Sexual violence was still an all too common method of control. Kara refused to tolerate it, and couldn't blame anyone for feeling the same.

"I've cleared you for release," she said, shaking her head. She kept her gaze focused on Brynja as she spoke, and the blond squirmed uncomfortably under it. "I may not enforce discipline like you're used to, but that doesn't mean I don't expect more from you. I would leave you in here until CSec deigned to let you out, but…"

"We'll behave, ma'am," Sayuri declared, placing herself between Kara and the blond. She must have known of Brynja's feelings—did she know they were returned?

Kara sighed. She and Brynja would likely need to have several long talks, but later. "Good. Let's go."


So we're on our way again. But how, you may ask, will you bring in Noveria? I have a few ideas, but it will ultimately depend on what happens in the next few chapters. I don't know how I'll handle that, either. Well, I thought the same when I started the Feros arc.

Yes, I did just redefine the Justicars. Probably not a surprise to anyone at this point. And more of that tying Kara's backstory into the plot, which is always a good thing.

Thanks for reading, please leave a review