Chapter Thirty-Six
The Plaza was busy, filled with a mix of civilians and military from many different races. Asari commandos mixed with salarian special forces, while human pilots mixed with elcor infantry. The lunch rush was just starting for humans and turians, while the mid-morning meal for asari and hanar was almost over. A myriad shops and cafes lined the edges and air cars whipped by overhead, projecting shadows onto the plaza below as they glided between it and the simulated sun. Chatter in dozens of different tongues filled the air, punctuated by the occasional twang of an alien musical instrument.
It was so full of life. Signs they were in the middle of a war were hard to spot, so much so that Shepard could almost fool herself into thinking she and Nathan were just another normal couple out for a meal together. Almost. Although she had made the decision to trust her own judgement when it came to her relationship with Nathan, the knowledge that she was going against Hackett's recommendation weighed on her mind. She didn't regret her decision and she certainly wasn't going to change her mind, but next to Admiral Anderson, Admiral Hackett was probably the person she had the most respect for in the entire Alliance military, and a mentor. Doing something contrary to his advice was… difficult.
Nevertheless, although she refrained from any obvious public displays of affection, she allowed herself to walk a little closer to Nathan as they made their way through the Commons. Glancing up at him, she noticed he was watching a group of turians sitting together in a nest of park benches near the stairs to the lake below. All were bandaged in some way. Some were missing limbs. They bent their heads together, talking quietly as the bustle of the Plaza moved around them.
"We need to end this, Shepard," he murmured, expression as sober as she had ever seen it. Those turians had lost everything.
"I know," she replied quietly. "We will."
They skirted around a tired-looking group of medical professionals of various races, heading for the stairs to Aria's latest unofficial throne room, Purgatory. Before they could enter the alcove, Shepard spotted a young human boy clinging tightly to an adult man's hand. The boy was pulling on the man's hand, trying to look at everything at once, and his eyes widened in surprise as he spotted her. "Daddy! Daddy, look!" he shouted in a high-pitched, excited voice, flinging his little arm out and pointing straight at her. "It's Commander Shepard!"
She stopped short, startled, but recovered quickly. Back after the battle for the Citadel this sort of thing had happened a lot. She painted a polite, friendly smile onto her face and waited.
The boy's father was looking where his son was pointing, clearly humouring the child, but he promptly went bright red when he realised it was actually her. "Henry," he chided, trying to draw the boy away. "Don't point at people, it's rude."
Henry was having none of it. "But daddy, it's her! Commander Shepard!" He pulled on his father's hand, practically dragging the man toward her, then let go and flung his pudgy little arm up in a surprisingly credible imitation of a salute. "Private Henry reporter for duty Commander!"
Shepard felt her polite smile grow into something more genuine. The boy's father looked mortified. She met Henry's eyes and snapped to attention, returning his salute and schooling her expression into something as serious and Commander-ly as she could make it. "At ease, Private Henry. Glad to have such a capable soldier on my team."
Henry's little face practically glowed as he stared up at her. "How many Reapers did you smoosh today, Commander?" he asked excitedly.
Smoosh? In her peripheral vision she could see Nathan struggling to contain his laughter. She couldn't blame him; the kid was beyond cute. "Hm, let's see," she pretended to think out loud. "There were at least four before breakfast – I like to start the day with a warm up. Then we took out another five that were trying to creep up on the Citadel just now."
"Don't forget the three that woke you up last night, Commander, making that siren noise of theirs right outside your window on the Normandy," Nathan added helpfully.
She nodded. "Oh, right, of course. That noise is really annoying, isn't it? So that would make it… how many?" She frowned at Nathan, pretending to be having trouble trying to work it out.
"Ten… eleven… twelve!" Henry exclaimed right on cue. "You smooshed twelve Reapers! Wow!"
Henry's face was glowing, but his father's expression had sobered somewhat as they spoke. It had taken a turn for the sad and wistful. The kid seemed to sense it, looking up at his dad and shuffling his feet. He gripped his dad's hand tightly, and the brave face he put on almost broke Shepard's heart right there. She wondered what had happened to them. Perhaps it was just the war in general, but she thought not. Suddenly she had to fight to maintain her cheerful façade.
Henry returned his attention to her, his little face all too serious. "Thank you for killing the Reapers for us," he told her earnestly.
Her façade dropped like a rock in heavy gravity. She floundered for a response, surprised that for once Nathan wasn't saying anything. He was usually much better at reacting when put on the spot in a social situation than she was. But Henry's father seemed to understand. He answered the unspoken question with a sad smile. "Elise. My wife. His mother."
Damn. She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm… I'm working as quickly as I can…"
He reached out, taking her hand. "Stop, stop. Don't apologise. We've lost a lot, yes, we've lost something irreplaceable. But everything you do gives us hope for the future. Whenever we see you and the Normandy on the news… We're with you, Commander. We're behind you. Thank you." He gripped her hand tightly, then let go and ushered Henry away. "Come on, I'm sure the Commander has lots of important things to do."
"Shit," Nathan murmured as they left.
"Yeah," she agreed quietly, mechanically setting off again toward their destination. The poor kid had lost his mother to the Reapers. She grimaced to herself. Everywhere she went it seemed she got another reminder of the stakes in this war.
The ten minute walk took twenty with the frequent stops they had to make along the way to shake hands, sign autographs and take pictures. Shepard began feeling a little sick to the stomach by the end of it, having to force herself to smile and say a few encouraging words to each person, but she knew it had to be done. She felt hypocritical after the way Palaven had turned out, completely undeserving of the hope and awe people piled on her. But still she pushed through. The slight discomfort she was feeling was nothing compared to the hell some of these people had been through and the comfort she seemed to be providing them simply by shaking hands. All the same, she was glad to finally step into Purgatory, where the lights were down low enough that she wouldn't be recognised from any more than a metre or two away.
Despite the early hour the club was full of people dancing with the abandon common to those trying to forget their troubles. It was less seedy than other clubs she had had the misfortune to walk into, but still had an air of use to it, especially in the scuffed floors and slightly worn seating.
None of that was evident in the secluded yet prominent nook Aria had claimed as her own, however. Shepard led Nathan over, bypassing an annoyed C-Sec officer who seemed to recognise her and do a double take. She shook her head, rolled her eyes and muttered something about friends in high places before hurrying off.
Aria was draped indolently over the bright red couch, eyeing Shepard with her familiar predatory gaze. "Shepard. I'm surprised to see you here. Slumming it, are we?"
"Only for you, Aria," she responded in kind, taking a seat on the couch without being invited and ignoring Aria's pointed side-eye. Mentally she steeled herself for the inevitable verbal duel ahead. She nodded toward the departing C-Sec officer. "What was that all about?"
Aria sighed theatrically. "C-Sec seems to think I should go through Customs like all the other rabble. I disagree. Luckily, so did Councilor Tevos."
"Ah," Shepard responded mildly, stretching an arm out along the back of the couch and crossing her legs comfortably one over the other. She was careful to let none of the mental exhaustion she was feeling show on the outside. "What brings you to the Citadel, anyway? Playing tourist?"
Aria's eyes narrowed slightly as she silently assessed Shepard's posture and tone for hidden meanings. She was a smart woman. Shepard knew she wouldn't need to remind her that the One Rule of Omega didn't necessarily apply on the Citadel. "Some thugs in white and yellow armour managed to rip Omega right out from under me. Cerberus – I think you've heard of them?" At Shepard's raised eyebrow she continued, "Oh, I didn't make it easy for them. But don't worry, I'll get it back." Glancing at Nathan, who had stood by silently until now with one watchful eye on her new batarian bodyguard, Aria shifted topics in an attempt to wrest back control of the conversation. "Well. I'm glad to see you took my advice about getting yourself a little something on the side for stress relief, Shepard. Maybe you could do a friend a favour and lend him to me one day."
Nathan twitched, scowling at the asari, and Shepard smiled humourlessly. Nice try, but it wasn't going to be Aria's show today. "I wouldn't have thought him to be your type, Aria. Enough banter. Let's get down to business."
"And here I thought you wanted to have a drink with an old friend."
"I don't have time for drinks with anyone these days. Giant genocidal robots are taking up all of my attention." The brief tensing of Aria's jaw at that somewhat dry but pointed reminder was gratifying. She knew the stakes. "I need your help."
Aria's expression grew hard. "Don't try and blackmail me into joining you, Shepard," she warned. "It won't work."
"I didn't say anything about blackmail. Or you, personally."
Aria scowled. "Get to the point then."
"I need troops. You have… relationships with a lot of mercenary groups and private armies. I want you to convince them to fight for me. For free."
Aria chuckled, low and deep. She sounded highly amused. "Oh, is that all?"
Judging her moment, Shepard abruptly dropped all pretence of levity, leaning forward in her seat and directing an intense stare at the supremely confident asari sitting across from her. The sudden movement had its intended effect; Aria's eyes darted fleetingly to her bodyguard. Aria would never admit it, but she was, in fact, a tiny bit intimidated by Commander Shepard.
Shepard played on that, injecting the full weight of the responsibility she bore into her gaze, trying to give Aria an insight into what the consequences of her failure would be. "What do you think will happen when the Reapers come for the Citadel, Aria? It's just a matter of time before they do. Do you think you'll be able to hold them off with just your mercs, all by yourself?"
She ticked the military forces of the galaxy off one by one on her fingers. "The Alliance is occupied elsewhere. The asari are digging in on Thessia, so I doubt your friend Tevos will be able to help you. The salarians are defending Sur'Kesh. The turians and krogan are out of the picture." She met and held Aria's eyes, continuing in a softer tone. "If I don't find some way to take the Reapers out, they'll kill everyone. I'm your only hope, Aria. And I need those troops."
Aria's eyes flickered again but her face remained stony. Shepard had to give it to her, she had a mean poker face. She didn't like this, not one bit, but she knew Shepard was right. Finally she looked away. "Damn you, Shepard," she bit out.
"This isn't about power, Aria," Shepard reassured her quietly. "I'm not trying to move in on your territory. This is about survival. Nothing more, nothing less. When this is over, you have my word that I'll help you take Omega back."
Aria stared at her for a couple of extra moments, unspoken words passing between them. If you survive, Shepard.
Finally, she rolled her eyes, and Shepard knew she had won. "Fine. I'll talk to the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack. Give me a few days."
"What about private armies with no allegiance to merc groups?" Shepard pressed.
"As much as I like to diversify, that pie is one I do not have any of my fingers in, to borrow one of humanity's inane expressions. You're on your own there."
"Damn." Shepard glanced at Nathan, who met her eyes over crossed arms. It wasn't quite all she had wanted from Aria, but for now it would do. Time to get out of there before all the fight completely drained out of her. Returning her attention to Aria, she stood. "Thank you, Aria."
"Yeah, yeah. Have a drink while you're here, Shepard. You can spare five minutes. You need to loosen up a bit."
Shepard smirked half-heartedly at her and left the impromptu throne room, heading out into the bar with Nathan close by her side. She hadn't gotten more than a few steps when her comm buzzed. She laid a hand on Nathan's arm and raised the other to her ear. "Shepard."
"Commander, it's Dr Chakwas. I've been able to locate and book a facility with the equipment capable of performing extensive further testing on your cybernetic implants. Is this afternoon convenient?"
She closed her eyes briefly. The thought that Cerberus might have made some adjustments when rebuilding her that even Miranda wasn't aware of was… the stuff nightmares were made of. She didn't want to find out. But that didn't make it any less necessary. What if it was some time limit they had built in to her bones? Check in with Cerberus and receive the all-clear codes every few months or… She gritted her teeth. "Yes. Send me the location."
"Done. Miranda and I will meet you there. Shepard… it will be all right."
Shepard opened her mouth to respond, but the empty words died on her lips. She closed the channel.
Nathan was close, solid and still, like an island in a rushing stream. She stepped in a little closer to him, not quite close enough to be intimate, but just enough to feel like she had stepped out of the room for a moment. Away from the press of people, the pounding bass and the gleam of Aria's watching eyes. Away from the constant, all-pervasive pressure threatening to constrict her chest until she couldn't breathe. She took a deep breath, wanting very much to just press her forehead against his chest and close her eyes for a while.
Nathan seemed to understand, as he always did. He leant down to speak directly into her ear so he could be heard over the top of the throbbing music. "Bad news?" he asked.
She shook her head. She still hadn't told him about the extra Lazarus project files they had uncovered and what they could mean for her. She didn't want to, either. It wasn't that she wanted to keep it from him, or that she thought he couldn't handle it – he was starting to make it abundantly clear that she could trust him to have her back no matter what – but more that it was something she just didn't want to acknowledge herself. The less she talked about it, the more she kept it in the back of her mind, safely compartmentalised, the better she would be able to handle it. "Just another meeting," she told him.
He didn't seem convinced, but didn't press her on it. Instead, he nudged her lightly and smiled. "Come on, let's get a drink. Aria offered."
"It's only just after midday, Nathan," she reminded him tiredly.
He shrugged. "Yeah but so far this has been a pretty terrible date. We have to do something to improve it."
She cracked a weak smile. "What happened to, 'oh I just want to spend time with you, Shepard'?"
He grinned. "Your presence was the only thing that prevented it from turning into a complete disaster. So far you've taken me to see a shady information broker, a crime lord, and to top it all off, your ex. I think this rates up there with one of the worst first dates in history."
She chuckled. "I don't know, no one's shot at us yet."
"True, but the day's still young. Come on, have a drink with me."
Shepard thought about it, tracing the open, friendly lines of his face with her eyes. He wasn't just offering her a drink, she realised, he was offering her a few hours of escape. From everything. She still had things to take care of, but for now… god, that was an appealing idea. She nodded hesitantly. "All right."
He reached out to lay a hand against the small of her back, but stopped and grimaced at the last moment. "Sorry. Automatic."
Shepard glanced back at Aria, who was now speaking with another visitor. Holding court. "No one besides Aria is going to recognise me in here, Nathan. It's too dark. It's all right."
Never one for half-measures, Nathan slipped his arm around her waist and with a devilish grin pulled her up against him, leaning down to kiss her. Thoroughly. When they finally broke apart, she found herself a little out of breath. "That what you had in mind?" he asked.
She laughed. Somehow he always found a way to make her smile. "It's a start."
A few minutes later they had managed to find a relatively secluded booth upstairs, away from the main bar but with a good view of the dance floor. Shepard had manoeuvred herself into a position that allowed her to sit with Nathan's arm around her shoulders while keeping her face mostly turned away from the rest of the club. It was probably overkill – someone would have to come right up to the booth to be able to make out her features – but she was determined to remain unrecognised. Right now all she wanted was an hour or two where she could leave the Commander back on board the Normandy and just be Shepard.
"I was joking about you starting your own game development company before, obviously," Nathan was saying, "but what do you want to do once the war is over?"
She took a sip of her drink, a warm, vaguely chocolatey concoction. It was smooth and almost too sweet, but very, very good. Nathan had convinced her to try it, and so far she was glad. "I've never really thought about it," she admitted slowly.
"Really? Surely there must be something you want to do outside the military."
"I don't know. I grew up on various Alliance ships and space stations, then enlisted at eighteen. I've never really known anything else." She shrugged. "What would I do, anyway? My skills don't exactly translate very well to civilian life."
"You could work security for the corporate world, or maybe for a colony, I guess," Nathan suggested. "Any colony would be overjoyed to have you as their security chief."
She made a face. "I'd just end up being some sort of tourist attraction."
"Heh. Yeah, maybe. Hmm. You could be a farmer."
She eyed him. "A farmer."
"Shepard's corn, the best corn in all the colonies—"
She gave him an appraising look. "Wouldn't I have sheep?"
"Sheep? Why… oh. Because you're Shepard. Very funny." Nathan shook his head, and she grinned as she took another drink. It was warm and smooth, and between it and their banter she found herself growing more relaxed. "Okay, okay. Well… you don't have to leave the military. You'd get your pick of assignments."
Shepard found herself laughing at that. "You know what's so sad about that? The best assignment I've ever had, the best times of my life, have been in command of the Normandy. Despite the suicide mission and the giant genocidal robots. I think I must be crazy, but if I had the choice I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Do you think they'd let me keep her?"
He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Of course they would. That's not sad or crazy at all. The Normandy crew is practically your second family. And you thrive on battle, Shepard. The happiest I've ever seen you is knee-deep in hostiles, Mattock in one hand, omni-blade in the other. Well," he corrected with a wolfish smile, "maybe the second happiest."
She almost choked on her drink, and had to set it down. She gave him an indignant glare. Entirely unrepentant, Nathan cupped her cheek in his palm and leaned in to kiss her.
Shepard let herself be carried away by the kiss, enjoying the moment. The crowded dance floor just a few metres away faded into the background along with the loud music. She shifted closer, feeling inexplicably safer and more content the nearer he was.
"How about you, then?" she asked after a while, her lips and nose inches from his, his breath warm on her cheek. "What are your plans for after the war?"
His eyes grew far away as he spoke. "I want to take up that invitation to N-school. If it still exists. And… I want my own ship." He shook his head. "Silly, I know."
She frowned. "Why is that silly?"
"Well…"
Nathan's attention abruptly shifted away from her, to the dance floor over her shoulder. His eyes widened, and he almost looked as though he had seen a ghost. She twisted around, following his gaze, but all she saw were dancers. She turned back. "What is it?" she asked with a touch of apprehension. They were in a nightclub on the Citadel but that didn't mean they were automatically safe… Her hand strayed in the vague direction of her sidearm.
"I thought I saw…" he trailed off, a sudden smile blossoming. "No fucking way. Spore! What the hell are you doing here?" he practically yelled across the dance floor. She eyed him in consternation, belatedly shielding her ear, but relaxed and pulled her hand away from her pistol. Nathan was already half-standing in the booth and waving to someone across the room.
She twisted around again, and spotted a group of Alliance soldiers waving back and jogging towards them from the bar. They were grinning ear to ear, matching Nathan's own expression as he slid out from behind the table to meet them, and yet she suddenly felt very self-conscious. She hadn't been expecting a social situation – she had originally intended to leave the bar quickly after speaking to Aria for precisely this reason, but Nathan had convinced her to stay… She took a quick drink to cover her nerves. The soldiers didn't recognise her now, but as soon as they did it would be back to being the Commander again.
The four of them engulfed him in bear hugs, slapping him on the back and shaking hands as though they were old friends who hadn't seen one another in years. A little curious despite herself, she slid out behind him and perched awkwardly on the table, waiting.
"Briggsy!" the one she had pegged as 'Spore' was crowing. "We thought you died on Earth, man!"
One of the others, a woman with short blonde hair, shoved him in the shoulder. "The hell, LT? N-school got toasted and you didn't think it might be a good idea to send us a message?"
Toasted? Shepard blinked. She hadn't heard that. Her old instructors all lived there. Corporal Parish, Major Seeren, Private Darenburg the cook… she hoped they hadn't been there at the time, but she knew it was probably a futile hope. Fuck.
Nathan held up his hands in protest. "I've been busy Dange, sorry."
"Busy? Everything's gone to shit, dude. Where the hell have you been?" a thin, reedy dark-skinned man demanded.
"Well, I got reassigned." Nathan glanced back at Shepard apologetically and she schooled her face into something a little less melancholy. He knew how much she disliked impromptu social situations like this, and how keen she had been on remaining anonymous, and it showed in his eyes when he looked at her. Gathering her courage and the comforting refuge of the Commander mask around herself, she stepped forward to join him. "Dangerfield, Ngandu, Sporritt, Jarvis." Nathan indicated each soldier in turn. "This is my CO, Commander Shepard."
Dangerfield, Ngandu and Jarvis' expressions ranged from surprise to barely restrained glee from Dangerfield as they all hurriedly snapped to attention and saluted. Sporritt just stared, looking from her to Nathan and back again, until Dangerfield thrust a hard elbow into his side. He pulled himself into a belated salute.
Shepard smoothly returned their salutes. Saluting a squad of marines was something she was more than comfortable with, but these four were more than just another group of soldiers. She had recognised some of the names Nathan had used – these marines were all part of his old squad. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," she offered awkwardly, a little unsure about the social protocols of such a situation.
Dangerfield was clearly the group's spokesperson. "It's an honour, ma'am," she replied, cheeks almost glowing as she stood at rigid attention.
"Would you like to join us?" she asked, knowing Nathan would want to spend some time with them.
"We could? I mean, we don't want to impose, ma'am…" Dangerfield trailed off. Ngandu snorted quietly, prompting the blonde woman to flush slightly and cast him a dirty look. Shepard caught the flush, resigning herself to the realisation that she seemed to have a fan in this particular marine.
"Don't worry, you're not imposing," Shepard reassured her, beckoning them all over to the booth and sliding back in. "Na—Lieutenant Briggs talks about his old squad a lot. It's good to finally meet some of them."
It was a tight fit, but that just gave her an excuse to sit closer to Nathan. Poor Dangerfield, who was seated beside her, seemed to have acquired a permanent pink tinge to her face, while Ngandu looked unhappy about the whole situation. Or perhaps that was just his usual expression. The fourth marine, Jarvis, remained nonchalantly silent and watchful, seeming interested but disinclined to talk.
"So what are you all doing here?" Nathan asked. His leg was pressing firmly against hers beneath the table, an offer of support. She was grateful for it. "Last I heard you were assigned to Garnerus."
"What a shitstorm that was," Ngandu grumbled. "We—ow!" He glared at Dangerfield, who glared back until he grudgingly added, "'Scuse the language, Commander."
Fleetingly she was reminded of Zaeed. She cracked a brief smile. "I've heard worse."
Ngandu shot Dangerfield a look that plainly said 'so there', and continued what he had been saying. His voice was gruff and deep, with a slight regional Earth accent – African, if she remembered correctly. "We were supposed to evacuate a scientific research facility and the colony that had sprung up alongside it. Only we just had the one ship."
"That seems short-sighted. There were no ships on the ground?" Shepard queried, surprised.
"There was a goddamn Cerberus spy!" Sporritt blurted out angrily. "The asshole sabotaged all the spaceworthy craft at the medical facility before taking the colony's only shuttle."
"Cerberus?" Nathan leaned forward on his elbows, exchanging a glance with her. "Any idea why they were there?"
"Nope," the previously quiet Jarvis spoke up in reply. Her calm and casual tones were a significant contrast to the rest of her team. "Research notes showed a lot of food and plant-based research. Don't know what Cerberus might have wanted with that."
It would be silly to assume that all the Illusive Man ever did was think of ways to get to her, but on the other hand, it didn't hurt to be thorough. "I'd appreciate it if I could get a copy of those notes," she said.
Jarvis nodded, raising her omnitool. "No worries. I'll forward them now." Her accent reminded Shepard of Miranda's – Australian? – although it was far more laid-back and rustic. The woman's skin tone was significantly darker too.
"Thank you." Glancing at her own omnitool she confirmed she had received the file. "What happened with the scientists and colonists?" she asked. "Did you manage to get them all out?"
"The scientists had already been killed when we arrived," Ngandu told her. She grimaced. "No doubt the work of the Cerberus spy. We called for more ships but hadn't heard anything by the time we found out the Reapers were in the next system over."
"We had to pack as many of the colonists as we could into Captain Thuy's frigate and promise to come back for the rest," Sporritt explained grimly, heaving a depressed sigh.
"The Reapers attacked Garnerus yesterday. We were at FTL halfway to the relay," Dangerfield added quietly.
Shepard shook her head, staring at her drink on the table in front of her as all the contentedness she had been feeling drained away. The Reapers would have turned those colonists into husks by now, or processed them into human sludge to form a new Reaper. And humans had helped them do it.
Goddamn Cerberus. What was the Illusive Man thinking? There was no way to control the Reapers. Spending time and effort on trying to do that was a pointless waste of resources, resources that were sorely needed elsewhere. The only way out of this, the only way to save the galaxy was to destroy the Reapers completely. To eradicate every last trace of their million-year existence.
She took a long, slow drink, focussing on the faint burn as it went down. Every moment she sat still on the Citadel something else happened. The Reapers took another colony, or another of the Illusive Man's diabolical plans came to fruition. Either way, somehow another billion people were murdered.
She didn't realise how much of a funk she had sunk into until she gradually become conscious of Nathan's leg pressing insistently up against hers, and how tightly she was clenching her teeth. With some effort she relaxed her jaw and returned her attention to the conversation, which had moved on without her.
"Where's your next posting?" Nathan asked. He glanced at Shepard. "Maybe… if we have room…"
She frowned inwardly, considering it. She had no immediate need for another team of marines. If this were any other time, it would be an immediate 'no'. But if taking them on board the Normandy could keep them safer than they would be elsewhere… And who knew, really, whether she would need them in the coming weeks and months? The Normandy had room.
"Don't know," Sporritt replied, glancing from Shepard to Dangerfield. "We're back with Captain Thuy though. Probably going to some other colony we won't be able to evacuate in time."
Dangerfield was reading something on her omnitool. "Terra Nova," she informed them, glancing up from her screen. "The Reapers have it. We're supposed to assess whether it's worth spending the resources to take it back or not."
Terra Nova… wait a second. That was in the same system as Eden Prime. Maybe instead of taking them with her, she could hitch a ride with them. It would mean she wouldn't have to wait for the Normandy to come out of drydock. Shepard leaned forward. "When do you leave?" she asked.
Dangerfield frowned as she read. "Tomorrow morning," she replied.
Shepard glanced at Nathan, then back to Dangerfield. "We need to get to Eden Prime and the Normandy is down for repairs right now. I've never met Captain Thuy – how do you think he would feel about a little side trip and a few passengers?"
Dangerfield blinked. "For you, ma'am? Of course he'd do it."
Shepard smiled and instantly began feeling better.