CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Coercion
It took another six days for the Normandy to arrive at the Citadel. For her crew, they passed in uneventful routine, though the same could not be said of the rest of the galaxy. The talks with the geth had proceeded without any great revelations, while Udina continued to insist that the Alliance was being sidelined. The quarian's civilian Conclave had added their own protests, implying that their was a conspiracy against them.
Admiral Hackett had shifted fleet deployment along the Attican Traverse, disguising an overall decrease in the number of ships by increasing visibility of those that remained, and more effectively securing the border against raids at the same time. It could have indicated that a number of counter-piracy, or counter-Cerberus, operations were in progress, though Kara could only guess at that.
Back at Arcturus station, the three members of the Defense Committee were now in custody, awaiting trial. She did not know what new evidence had been uncovered, but there were rumors that the Prime Minister had asked for their resignation. If they agreed, an attempt to quash the entire affair would almost certainly follow.
"So, Cap'n, have you got vacation plans, or something?" Jeffrey asked, as Citadel Traffic Control guided the ship into a priority dock. "Maybe a romantic evening with Liara?"
Even half a day without contemplation of anything more serious than getting her asari lover to smile was more than tempting, and not entirely impossible. "I'm afraid not," she sighed. She would try to find time, but she honestly did not expect to them to stay in port for more than a few days. Everything of immediate importance had been taken care of already, and Kirrahe had taken responsibility for resupply. She certainly had personnel matters to sort out, primarily Orlanis and her squad, and a few diplomatic hurdles. "What about you?"
"They say good things about the latest Blasto vid, and I figure, hey. I've flow across the galaxy with a spectre, so I must be an expert. Now I can sit in the back and shout 'Shepard wouldn't do it like that!' Good for a few laughs, at least. It's a pity that none of us have any friends left."
"Heckling the Blasto fanbase isn't the best way to make new ones," Kara sighed. She doubted that she compared favorably to the fictional hanar spectre, in his mind. Too much talking, not enough explosions.
Jeffrey shrugged. "You never know. Maybe I'll meet some cute chick who's really a fan of yours."
"Good luck with that," she muttered. The first human spectre, heroine of Elysium, reduced to a pickup line. She didn't know quite what to think of that.
"What about you, Brynja?" she asked, turning to face the blond.
"Spend some time with friends," Brynja smiled. "Unlike Jeff, I still have a few. We're going to a club with Orlanis and the rest. I'll miss her and Lix. I wish I'd found time to get to know the rest of them, but…"
"There's never enough time. I know," Kara said, settling her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "I'll find time to join you there."
The blond laughed, swinging her chair about. "As it happens, ma'am, I wasn't thinking of you," she said, grinning briefly. "Besides, you need to find time for Liara."
"Yes, and I will," Kara agreed, "but she's not the only person of importance to me. So I will see you later."
Brynja nodded, lowing her eyes uncomfortably. "Sure."
"Docking in five, Cap'n," Jeff said, as the ship nosed into port. She counted down silently, until the clank of the docking clamps reverberated through the hull. "Secure lock confirmed. Powering down all drive systems."
The engineering section would be active for the next few hours, as they replenished the ship's fuel supply, bled off the charge in the static sinks, and emptied the waste tanks, but protocol required only one person on duty in the CIC. "Brynja, let the crew know we've arrived," Kara said.
The blond had already turned back to her station, and nodded shortly. "Yes, ma'am."
Brynja's sudden discomfort remained a regular part of their relationship, a repeated indication that she had failed to suppress her romantic feelings. Kara sighed, as she headed below. The easy solution would be to avoid each other, which she considered undesirable, and difficult in cramped quarters. Practically, she could either be more professional in their interactions, or accept and pursue their feelings. She did not care for either one, but the choice could not be put off much longer.
As usual, Karen smiled as she entered sickbay. "Kara. I've just checked with the CIIM—" the Citadel Institute for Interspecies Medicine— "and they've a surgical bay available in an hour. The doctor is salarian, Hol Kessan. His reputation is excellent."
"Did you tell Sayuri?" Kara asked. The last time they'd spoken, Sayuri had been 'ready to get back on her feet'—in her own words. The idea of a mechanical limb, rather than a cloned replacement, had generated less enthusiasm, but she understood that cloning took several weeks, and required a DNA sample. They didn't have the time, and she wanted back in the action.
"I was just about to. Are you coming along?"
"No, but I will meet you at the hospital, if she doesn't object."
Karen shook her head, smiling faintly. "She wouldn't, even if she had cause," she said. "You should be there in half an hour, if you want to see her before she goes in for prep."
"Tell her to expect me," Kara replied, "and thanks for setting everything up." The doctor had ordered the replacement limb through a friend in the medical corps, a military-grade prosthetic made by Sirta Foundation. They would not have sold to her, even with a spectre's authority.
Karen waved her hand through the air, as if to brush aside the comment. "It's all part of the job," she shrugged.
Nodding, Kara made for the door. She would have gone with the doctor right then, but she had some passengers to deal with first, and no reason to delay. Lizbeth was talking quietly with her mother at the end of the table closest to the sickbay, which she made them the easiest place to begin.
"Captain," Lizbeth said, brushing her brown hair out of her eyes as she looked up.
"Lizbeth. Julia," Kara nodded, smiling softly. "We've arrived at the Citadel."
The older woman breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'm grateful to you for bringing us along, but this ship isn't terribly comfortable to us civilians."
She found the complaint irritating, but did not let it show. The elder Baynham had not even known of the thorian, or its mind control properties, but Lizbeth had, and had certainly not show Sayuri's character. "It's no better for the rest of us."
"You saved my daughter's life, Captain," Julia said, looking down at her hands, folded on the tabletop. Whatever her daughter had to told her to explain their evacuation had clearly concerned her. "Maybe her soul—" Lizbeth flushed at this assertion, aiming a glare at her mother that the older woman ignored. "We owe you for that."
"I may have a use for her skills," Kara said, meeting Lizbeth's eyes. The brunette shifted, and looked away. "The enemy I'm pursuing also has the ability to control minds. Liara has speculated that it may use a method similar to the thorian, and we need someone to investigate."
Lizbeth shook her head. "I'm not comfortable working for you, ma'am. You walk all over people, like their concerns don't even matter. I know I'll miracle to scrape my career back together, but I'll find one on my own."
"Your career?" Kara asked sharply. "Didn't you walk all over the Zhu's Hope for that?"
The scientist flushed, her gaze falling. "That's different—"
"Because you didn't look them in the eyes first?" Kara demanded. She could understand if Lizbeth felt manipulated, but to defend the abuse of the colonists in any way was inexcusable.
"I didn't… I don't—"
"Captain, you have no right to speak to my daughter in that manner," Julia protested, rising to her feet.
Kara caught the older Baynam's gaze sharply. "Sit down," she commanded. The woman obeyed, her wide mouth curved into a worried frown.
"You made a mistake, Lizbeth," Kara continued, turning her attention on the daughter. "It happens. Stop running away, and admit to it."
"So I fucked up," the woman snapped, quickly gathering her lost composure. "I'll be lucky if I can spend the rest of my life flipping hamburgers at the Citadel McDonald's, while supporting my mother, who just lost her pension. Don't you think we've suffered enough?"
If Julia was right about her daughter's soul, then Kara had no need to judge them. She did not want the responsibility, either. "I'm not interested in revenge, Lizbeth. I'm offering you a chance to restart your career, and you'd be working for the Council. Not me."
"I don't want your charity, or to get dragged into your absurd crusade. I just want to be able to go home."
Kara sighed. "It doesn't work like that, Lizbeth. I promised you safety, not freedom."
"What are you saying?" the scientist asked. "Was that a threat?"
"No," Kara replied. "You're free to go, if that's what you want. There will be a criminal investigation, and you may be charged for your involvement. The only thing that will change is my statement."
The brunette stood, her eyes still downcast. "There's too much about you that scares me. I don't want to get more involved than I already am."
Kara stepped back, allowing the brunette to collect her mother and depart. As soon as they were out of sight, she slouched into Lizbeth's vacated chair. The loss of the neuroscientist was not a major setback, not while she had ExoGeni's Feros database, but she had failed to anticipate it. She also knew where she might find a replacement, possibly more suited to the task.
"Can I go, as well?"
Kara stifled a groan as Rana Thanoptis dropped gracelessly into the seat opposite her. The pale blue asari was wearing an insincere smile, and unmarked Alliance fatigues. "No."
Rana had survived the meandering twenty-seven day trip from Virmire primarily by keeping out of the way of the salarians, no mean feat on the cramped frigate. Kara found her to be unpleasant company, constantly finding excuses for her actions, both with Saren and before. At least Lizbeth had found other things to talk about. "Why not?"
"Because Saren is right. It's imperative that we understand, and can reverse, or at least prevent, Indoctrination. As you're the closest thing we have to an expert, you're being conscripted." She still needed to convince the Council, of course, but the more difficult part would be finding Indoctrinated individuals for study.
"Just as long as I get paid," Rana smirked. That was very nearly the worst thing the asari could have said, joke or no. Such a mercenary attitude was not unheard of among her people, and often resulted in voluntary exile—the rewards they sought were simply not available inside the Republic.
More importantly, Kara detested it. It was selfish and arrogant, and Rana used it as thought it excused her earlier behavior. "Orlanis is going to escort you to CSec, where you'll be placed in holding until arrangements can be made."
"You're having me locked up?"
"Rana," Kara said, smiling coldly. "If the Normandy had a brig, you'd be in it."
"The procedure went flawlessly," Hol Kessan said, standing over Sayuri's bed in a small hospital recovery room, "due in part to excellent prep-work by Doctor Chakwas."
Karen returned the salarian's nod. "I take my patients' health seriously."
"It shows. Miss Aoki, you're free to go as soon as the local anesthetic wears off. Stop by reception on your way out—they'll make arrangements for the remaining components. Any questions?"
Sayuri shook her head, though it did look as though she was brooding on something.
"Good," Hol continued. "A nurse will come through to check on you in about an hour. Excuse me."
As he left, Karen caught Kara's gaze. "I'll be out in the hall," she said, gesturing toward the door.
Kara nodded, standing as the greying older woman departed. "So what do you think?"
The young Japanese marine's hand went to the bed controls, adjusting it to a more comfortable sitting position, before pulling the covers aside, exposing her mechanical limb. The flexible outer membrane simulated skin, in color and texture, and integrated temperature and pressure sensors, connected to Sayuri's nervous system. "Is there enough room in that storage compartment for a flask?"
"You've gotten to the important matters, then," Kara said, smiling softly, as she seated herself on the edge of the bed.
Sayuri smiled, running her hand from her knee upward, ending at the nearly invisible joint between woman and machine. "I can feel it, sort of. It's strange, too—I'd just started to get used to it not being there. Well, it saves me from wondering if you're gonna leave me behind."
"I'm not. Even if I weren't short on crew, I wouldn't." Kara paused, breathing deeply. She placed her hand on the marine's artificial knee before continuing. "We talked about Torfan, but it was your testimony at the hearing that really impressed me."
Sayuri flushed, and looked away. "Yes, I, uh… I was young and stupid?" she suggested.
"That doesn't explain why you did the same thing again, when you followed me into mutiny."
"Older, not wiser?"
"Yes, that must be it," Kara agreed, pulling the marine's blankets back into place as she stood, and returned to her chair. She had said what she wanted to, and Sayuri's embarrassed joking implied that it was understood.
"Kara…" the younger woman said, her gaze returned to her leg. "You don't need to stay. I'm through the hard bit, for now at least, and long silences are awkward. Anyways, a CO isn't supposed to have time to sit around and babysit her crew."
Kara nodded, aware that the marine was right. Karen, or anyone really, had more of a chance of providing an entertaining wait. "I'll go," she said, smiling as she stood, "but don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."
Sayuri grinned quickly. "Liquor."
"Ah, Kara, you made it," Orlanis shouted, over the din of the tense, throbbing music that blasted through the turian-style nightclub, as Kara sat beside her. Her squad was joined at the long table by a pair of turians and a salarian female, plus Garrus and Tali, and four of the Normandy's human crew.
"I wanted to thank you properly," Kara said, just as loudly. "You and your team. I thought buying a round might be a good start."
The turian nodded. "Your Alliance should take some good advice, and put a few more distractions on their frigates."
"I'll let them know, Orlanis," Kara laughed, "but I doubt they'll find room for a nightclub."
"Just a small bar, then…"
Kara sighed, rolling her eyes for the turian's benefit. Alcohol was a near-constant of sapient lifeforms, and almost as diverse in variety as life itself.
"Fine. If you don't want to benefit from our experience—"
"This is attempted sabotage," Kara teased. She did not mention the archeological studies that had humanity brewing crude beers at least five hundred years before turians had taken up the art.
"I'd never," Orlanis protested. She had probably started on her second glass. "Let me introduce you to our guests. Kara, this is my bondmate, Tallith," she continued, slapping the male turian sitting beside her on the shoulder. "The one over there is Ellanis, Valaris' twin brother. The salarian is Illesral. She's with Yana."
Kara had met two salarian females in her life, both at once, on Sur'Kesh. One had been a bitter, thirty-seven year old scientist, her name barely known despite amazing contributions to several fields. The other, a promising young engineer, nearly sixteen and full of audacity, but finding herself sidelined. In a cruel twist, it was the family Dalatrasses, who made it so. They did not want fertile females outside their control, because it meant hatchling males imprinted upon their mothers, and not their matriarch, a change that would have shattered the salarian's feudalistic social structure. Ironically, this did not prevent the frequent assertion that males and females were equal in their society. Those females that did pursue non-administrative or political careers tended to be independent personalities. "What's her field?"
"Illesral? Sociology and bio-engineering. She has some strange ideas, and she loves to talk about them. Not unlike you, really," Orlanis smirked.
Shyness was not a common salarian trait, at least in general. At the risk oversimplifying the reasons, they simply didn't have time for it. She didn't either, and it was time to reveal why she had come. "If Saren has his way, all this will be destroyed. Are you really going to walk away?"
The turian groaned. "Don't you ever give up on anything?"
"You see that," Kara continued, pointing to Yana and Illesral. The big asari had closed her eyes, resting her head on the salarian's shoulder, and odd as the pair appeared, their feelings were unmistakable. "That's what we're fighting to preserve. And your beautiful little son, still practicing his first words. If I thought the reapers could be put off with words, I wouldn't be here, begging for your help. The only certainty we have is that if we don't fight, we'll die. So we make a choice."
"You—" Translators often had difficulty with expletives, but Kara's experience with turian languages was enough to tell her that the one Orlanis used meant, literally, 'acrid smell'. "We've already offloaded all our gear. I told Executor Palin to put us back on active duty. Did you have to wait and make this argument now?"
"If I could," Kara said, softly enough that the turian had to lean in close to hear her, "I'd go off with Liara. What we have is still new, and maybe not permanent, but I'd like the chance to try with her. I want to have a daughter, and watch her grow up. Those thoughts are strongest when we're holding each other close, and that's when I remind myself that I'm fighting to make our future possible."
Orlanis sighed, shaking her head. "I should have known you'd do this. Spirits curse you."
"I've had two weeks to consider my options, Orlanis. You've got a mixed team that works well together, and gets along with my crew. I also know where you stand. No mercenary group can compare to that."
"Enough, Captain," the turian snapped, "you've won. I wish you'd leave me to enjoy my evening."
Kara nodded, and withdrew, stopping by the bar to make arrangements for her promised round. Tali had used a similar arguments against her, back at the beginning, and they had gained potency since, but still she continued to resent them, as she resented what she had just done. The more dire the threat, the easier it became to justify any action in opposition to it; lies and deceptions, murder, and, at the end of all things, even genocide. The rationalizations were timeworn, but effective.
She leaned on the bar as she waiting for the transaction to finish, and watched the scene she had left behind. Orlanis wore a grim expression, clutching her now-empty glass tightly; Tallith, his features tightened in concern, had his arm around her, and leaned his head on her shoulder. Across the table, a confused looking Kaliran had noticed the change in her commander, interrupting Lixandris in mid-laugh. The disruption spread quickly down the length of the table.
The turian behind the bar thanked her for her business, and she fled, out onto the Presidium, and on until all sound of the music had faded. Before Saren, before the Reapers, her galaxy had held no irredeemable evils, no existential threats. No justification for the cruelties people inflicted upon one another. She would not, could not compromise herself. Victory had no value if one sacrificed everything of worth to achieve it.
"Kara?"
She paused in her march. This was another discussion she didn't want to have, but couldn't avoid. Did she ask for what she wanted, when the soft voice, and the smile that went with it, set her heart pounding? It wasn't, and could not be, her choice. "Brynja," she breathed softly.
"Are you alright?" the blond asked.
She had only to slide her fingers into Brynja's silky, silver hair, and take half a step. She imagined soft lips parting for her, letting her taste— "Yes," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I was just going to join Liara."
"I really need to talk with you, Kara," Brynja said quietly. "About us."
The Presidium was in night-mode, the artificial sky dimmed, and the walkways lit by knee-high lamps. Kara moved to the rail, overlooking the central pool. "This isn't the best time."
"I know," the blond sighed, "but I can't keep on like this. I thought I could do anything for you, but… I don't want to resent Liara, for what she has. I need to let go of you, and I can't do that on the Normandy. I'm staying here."
"Have you talked to Liara about this?" Kara asked.
"How can I, Kara? I helped you get back together. I'm not going to push you apart."
"Just trust me, and come talk to her," Kara said, taking Brynja's hand.
Brynja closed her eyes, her expression a confused mix of emotion in the darkness, and nodded silently.
The suite Kara had booked was small, with little more than a living area and bedroom, both appointed in comfortable, aesthetically pleasing style, though not one she recognized. Liara had arrived earlier, after searching the Council's prothean archives for clues that could help them reach Ilos, or find the conduit when the yarrived, and was sitting on the sofa, her legs elevated on a pile of cushions. She still held a tablet, diligently continuing her research.
"Hey," Kara said, smiling as she brushed her fingers against the asari's bare soles.
"Hey," Liara repeated, shifting her legs to make room beside her. "I thought you'd be later. And alone," she added, turning a friendly smile on Brynja. The blond was looking paler than usual, as she lingered near the door.
Kara took the proffered spot, gently turning the young asari's head towards her, and claiming a firm kiss. "I love you," she said, the message meant as much for Brynja as Liara. If things were to work out, the blond had to fully accept her commitment to both relationships.
"You love her, too," Liara whispered. Kara had not tried to hide it, when they had shared their minds. "Sit, Brynja."
"She doesn't want to hurt you."
Having taken a few steps further into the room, Brynja paused. "I, um—"
"Go on," Liara said, drawing Kara in with a hand about her waist. She smiled, and laid her head on the asari's shoulder.
"She's very special," Brynja muttered. "I just… I can't…"
"I love her, Brynja, but I don't own her. If you can help make her happy, that's what matters."
The blond took a step forward. She had traded her usual plain uniform shirt for a dressy, abstractly decorated tunic, her silver hair loose, and now long enough to cover her shoulders. The style looked good on her, and Kara nodded her affirmation of Liara's point.
"Oh, Liara," Brynja said, finally. "It isn't hard to see why she loves you. Okay. I just… need some time to get used to the idea of sharing her."
Kara stood, and wrapped the younger woman in her arms, placing a kiss on her cheek. "You know where to find me."
"Yeah," Brynja nodded, backing away. "Anyway, this is supposed to be your night. I'll see you both on the Normandy."
Kara waited for her to go, before turning back to Liara. She smiled seductively, beginning to unbutton her shirt as she sat in the asari's lap. She had every intention of taking advantage of the wide bed that awaited them in the next room. She pushed everything else from her thoughts.
