Eternity turned out to be an elegant and quite spacious establishment. The customers sat in lounge groups that were fairly wide apart from each other and bathed in a dim blue light. An exception was a spot on the opposite side of the building, where red light showed the location of the bar. Ambient music played softly in the background. The music at Flux was better. Generally, Tali preferred the louder and livelier bars, but to just hang out with friends and relax, Eternity would do.

Currently, there were not many customers around, and only one sat at the bar. It was Garrus.

"You're early" Tali greeted him as Shepard and she approached.

"I am," Garrus agreed. His right hand was gripping a small, half full glass in front of him. "I had hoped you two would be, too"

"Ah?" Shepard inquired as he sat down on a bar stool.

"I wanted to talk to you," Garrus told them. "Both of you know Tisiphone better than I do."

"Ah. I see the problem," Tali commented.

"It seems she doesn't trust me," Garrus remarked. "Whenever she's around me she's nervous. That's obvious. She even tries to avoid looking at me. And she barely gives an answer whenever I say something to her."

"You know why that is," Tali answered.

"I can imagine. I interrogated Chairman Burns two years ago," Garrus reminded her. "Bastard, though I've seen far worse on Omega. I know the mercenaries Conatix hired for BAaT were turians. But surely she can't think all turians are bad?"

"I don't think it's conscious," Shepard pointed out. "It's a subconscious reaction. She's traumatized, Garrus."

"Not conscious?" Garrus repeated. "Hm. I must admit I had never thought of that. That must mean humans have some pretty strong automatic reactions."

"Ah… yeah. I suppose you could say so," Shepard confirmed.

"She never openly talked about the topic, but I thought that was just her being passive-aggressive," Garrus stated.

"Not at all!" Shepard exclaimed. "She doesn't talk about it because… nobody likes to talk about their traumas. Especially humans."

"But I don't think she likes those reactions herself," Tali pointed out. "Usually, she isn't like this. She's been hurt, Garrus. As a kid. With some species, that will stick with the rest of one's life."

"Hmmm," Garrus mused. "So, there's nothing that can be done about it?" The thought did not seem to please him.

"Give her time," Shepard advised. "I don't think she has ever spoken to a turian since she got free of Gagarin Station. And why should she have? It would only have reminded her of what had been done to her. But now, she's willing to see this mission through and hence to cooperate with the squad, including you. She will get used to your presence… eventually. Or so I hope."

Garrus downed the rest of his glass in one go. "You're the human in this trio, so you probably know best about this."

"Don't worry, Garrus. The problem will take care of itself," Tali reassured him.

"If not, I'll go speak with her," Shepard offered. "But for now, I think it's best if we give her some space to figure things out for herself." Now that the topic seemed to have been covered, a lull ensued in the conversation. Shepard ended it by speaking up again: "I'm glad we don't have an elcor on our team. I wouldn't know who to ask about them."

"You could ask asari bartenders," a low female voice suggested. Tali turned around to the bar to see that the bartender had walked up to them. "That's what we're good at."

"And we can find your kind all over the galaxy," Shepard added with a grin.

"Hah. Too damn right. Competition everywhere," the bartender agreed. "You're Shepard, aren't you?"

She did not seem over-enthusiastic as some people became around celebrities. It had been a simple question. Nonetheless, Shepard answered: "Will that cause trouble here?"

"Don't worry. Anyone going crazy about you will soon either be hit by a singularity or be missing a spine." Shepard's look became a mixture of uncomfortable amusement and confusion in reaction. "Sorry. My father was a krogan. But the point stands. It's the least I can do, after you proved me right. And saved the Citadel. Yeah, that, too."

"Proved you right?" Shepard asked.

"Saren and his geth caught our ships hanging bare-assed in space," the bartender explained. "If not for you humans, we would've bought it right there."

Tali could already see where this was going. The bartender seemed to have some pretty strong opinions… but of course, so did Shepard. She was kind of morbidly curious about his reaction. There was a certain irony about an asari lauding humanity to Shepard above her own people. It was almost like a twisted mirror.

Unsurprisingly, Shepard scoffed. "Let's not forget that the first thing 'we humans' did was trying to sabotage my trip to Ilos. Had that succeeded, Saren would have won. And in the end Fifth Fleet intervened because its commanding officers created faits accomplis. That was not to the Alliance government's merit, either."

"But both that admiral and you are humans, no?" the bartender argued. "It's a cultural thing. We asari should know better. We can't go a single of our lifetimes without some big war breaking out. And yet we still hope art and philosophy and political prowess will somehow save us from the next one. Ridiculous! Say what you will about your species, at least you humans know what's up."

"We humans also have a saying: 'Those who hunt monsters might become monsters themselves'," Shepard countered. He stopped shortly and muttered: "Well, paraphrased."

"This sounds like the same philosophical crap the other matriarchs on Thessia spew," the bartender claimed.

"It's true," Shepard insisted. "So every asari lifetime or so a big war breaks out? Well, that means you have centuries of peace. Centuries where you can enjoy a relatively open and fair society. Meanwhile, us humans… hah, we don't even need wars. We can do all kinds of terrible things to each other even when there's no war on. I don't think you want that as a role model."

The bartender started to grin. "It must have been quite a shock for the humans when their golden boy first began saying such things about them. Especially for the Alliance government. I can appreciate that. Our maidens wouldn't even dream about criticizing or questioning our social order."

Shepard laughed. "So you think asari society should be more like, well, me? Okay, I can live with that." He paused. "You said other matriarchs… you want to tell me you are one, too?"

"That's what centuries of life experience do to an asari, babe," the bartender replied.

"You wish you could address me as such," Shepard stated with a sudden iciness in his voice.

"Sorry. If I remember your human terms correctly, I should have used stick in the mud" the bartender countered. She did not really seem to be offended, though, and neither was Shepard by that reply: His stern face cracked up to reveal a grin. "But yeah, I'm a Matriarch. Matriarch Aethyta, nice to meet you. You want a drink? First one's on the house; hero bonus. You'll pay for each one after that, though."

"Nice, thanks," Shepard answered. "Well, would be a pity not to try asari drinks while I'm here but I have no experience with them. Give me what you think is best."

"Usually people end up regretting such words," Aethyta stated, then filled up a glass with a smoky, faintly pink liquid. "You two were with him on Ilos, weren't you? Wait a moment, I also have this in dextro. One free glass each for each of you two as well."

Shepard took the glass and carefully nipped at it. A moment later, his face lit up. At the same time, Aethyta put a glass in front of Garrus. Tali had to wait a while longer: First Aethyta had to find a disinfected, sealable glass, then fill it, then seal it, then find a fitting straw for it. That all took some time. When Tali could actually try the drink, she could understand Shepard's reaction: The taste was certainly quite strong - fresh, fruity, but also in a way heavy. Of course, "dextro versions" of food and drinks were usually just approximations of the original taste - what she drank was not the same as Shepard, just something created to resemble the original drink's taste. She could not quite say if she liked that taste, but she always enjoyed feeling a new sensation. That happened infrquently enough.

"Okay, you're obviously good at your job," Shepard commented. "But this job is, well, shall we say, not the usual occupation for a matriarch, is it? Usually matriarchs hold the positions of power in asari society, don't they?"

"We aren't leaders of the sort your prime ministers, admirals and governors are, if you mean that," Aethyta replied. She had begun to wipe the bar desk. "Our single republics have administrations for that, and nobody really values those particularly highly." Shepard sighed wistfully. "The 'power' of matriarchs is the possibility to spread their ideas… by having the right contacts, by knowing the right things, or by simply being good at convincing others. Well, I have all that here. As a bartender, I speak to people, convince them, know damn many of them, and you can be sure I also know what they're all up to as well. Sure, I might not know as many people as our councillor or Sha'ira the Consort, and the people they know are more important than those I know… but that's just a difference in degree, not in category."

Shepard remained unconvinced. "And yet, you don't see too many Matriarch bartenders around."

"No. That's just for those of us who have gone bitter and frustrated," Aethyta claimed. "You never were on Thessia, were you?" When Shepard shook his head, she continued: "Lucky you. Means you never got to see our most respected Matriarchs. Unimaginative cowards, the lot of them. You might as well try to convince a wall to change its ways. I called it quits when I became sorely tempted to smash some faces in."

"You know," Tali spoke up, "I've heard that asari get no genetic material or inheritable traits from their fathers, but somehow you seem to have gotten some krogan inside you."

Aethyta laughed. "That's what I always say, too. I sure got my dad's mouth. He loved going on and on about the war. Bragging, basically. Bludgeoning his way through the Matriarchs' stubbornness surely would have been his method of choice."

"He wasn't an Urdnot by any chance?" Garrus asked, amused.

"He was, actually," Aethyta answered. "The most chaotic and disorganized clan one can think of, even by krogan standards. Though I hear that's been changing."

Before the discussion could switch to the topic of Tuchanka and Wrex, it was interrupted by Tisiphone approaching the bar. It seemed the former terrorist made a point not to look at Garrus, and of course she seated herself opposite to him, on the other side of Shepard and Tali. She was quickly brought up to date on what had been discussed so far. She looked impressed when Aethyta was introduced to her as a Matriarch; she seemed ready to give her more respect for it, which was in line with her appreciation for asari culture. At least, in the beginning. Tali had no doubt this would quickly change.

"So you're basically a Matriarch-in-exile?" Tisiphone asked.

"That's one way of naming it," Aethyta answered. "Another is that I'm just a bartender fed up with asari society."

"There are worse societies around," Tisiphone claimed. "Why did you get into arguments with the other Matriarchs, anyway? What was the matter of contention?"

"Everything," Aethyta answered. "I just didn't like the way our culture is going. Still don't. We could achieve so much more if we only put our minds to it! But most of us spend a third of their lifetime swinging their ass in some sleazy bars, or joining mercenary gangs. Instead, we should put our Maidens to work! Imagine what we could achieve! I told the other Matriarchs so. But when I spoke about making new mass relays ourselves, they laughed the blue off my ass."

"Ha - ha - ha," Shepard intoned slowly and sarcastically. "Seriously, if it were that easy, people would already have done it. As it is, primary relays are literally hundreds of times more efficient than our conventional FTL drives and we have no idea how they do it!"

Little wonder considering where they really come from...

"We had thousands of years to figure the mass relays out," Aethyta argued. "Did we do it? Hell, no. We focused on diplomacy and arts and all that lofty stuff. Now imagine those millennia if everyone of us, including the Maidens, had worked on deciphering the secrets of the mass relays. If we had spent all that energy that went into either talking or baring our asses into such projects. We…"

"Yes, yes, I get it," Shepard cut in annoyed. "Basically 'Think of the great asari destiny'. Hah. You remind me of a certain someone speaking the same way about humanity."

Ouch. Tali of course realized exactly whom Shepard had meant. So had Tisiphone. She looked a bit uncomfortable. But the way she looked awkwardly at both Shepard and Aethyta it apparently was not just his attack which had caused that.

"I've heard of your quarrels with your government," Aethyta stated, who of course had no way of knowing whom Shepard had meant. "You ask me, it was a very naive fight… no offence. But hey, any time you can do some good that's great. Happens rarely enough. If you think I plan to recreate any of that stuff you fought against… hell no! Of course not."

"With all due respect," Tisiphone spoke up again, " 'that stuff' is what great visions and such stuff always lead to."

"Besides, what else could you possibly have meant," Shepard added. "You said you wanted to 'put the Maidens to work'. What's that supposed to mean? Labour programs? Conscription, like the Hierarchy does?"

"Ah. Right. My big mouth again," Aethyta realized. "No, none of that. That wouldn't even be what Matriarchs do. Matriarchs don't do applied politics - we don't do administration or law making or any of that sort. For the former, we asari have trained professionals, for the latter we have our direct democracy. What Matriarchs do is spreading ideas. That's what I'm talking about. Introducing some new ideas into our stale culture."

"Huh," Shepard stated. It seemed this explanation had stopped his zeal to argue cold. "You know, no offence, but 'putting them to work' is a really bad way to state your point then."

"Us Matriarchs are supposed to explain our ideas to others and convince them of it," Aethyta answered. "I suppose I've never made a particularly good Matriarch."

"What would you propose?" Garrus asked.

"At the moment it's basically just expected that our daughters should spend their Maiden years doing Goddess knows what all over the galaxy," Aethyta explained. "It's simply a cultural norm… but cultural norms can be changed. I'm not talking about forcing anybody, but if our culture held it normal that Maidens worked instead of wasting their decades, then - biiig surprise - more Maidens would work."

"And if Maidens who do work got more respect and attention," Tali added, thinking of Dr T'Soni.

What Aethyta had said made sense to her. Sure, her own species was a bit of a special case: Quarians were always so resource strapped that it was a fundamental necessity for them to make sure everybody did their part. This was not necessarily true of asari society... but every society would profit from encouraging that. In fact, Tali thought even among the better off species it should be seen as a kind of duty to contribute to society.

"Yeah," Aethyta agreed. "That, too. Definitely."

"But why establish new cultural norms?" Tisiphone asked. She's holding back. It seemed to Tali only Tisiphone's respect for the Matriarch kept her from arguing more forcefully. "Seems to me, it would be enough to simply tear down all expectations, no matter what they promoted. Let the Maidens do whatever the hell they want - be it work or their version of 'fun'."

"We asari aren't particularly big on rules," Aethyta claimed. "But we care a lot about social guidelines, social expectations, basically 'the proper way' to do things. We allow other ways, but there's a lot of conformism. Simply tearing down cultural norms wouldn't work. The Maidens would instinctively look for some guidelines on what to do."

"Besides, why shouldn't it be encouraged to do something for your people?" Tali spoke up. Garrus nodded.

"Yeah," Aethyta agreed. "That, too. That way, we asari could finally achieve something."

"Achieve something?" Tisiphone asked suspiciously. "Like what?"

"Strength, for one thing," Aethyta answered. "A sense of purpose. Progress. Development."

"Oh to hell with that!" Tisiphone exclaimed. And there goes that self-restraint. "Seriously? You seriously want to go on about asari destiny, visions and strength here? Fuck that. Most asari I've met don't give a single shit about that, and you know what? That makes you one of the most likable species in the galaxies!"

"Really now. What about human destiny and human strength?" Aethyta asked.

Tali subdued a wince. Shepard looked a bit aghast. Even Garrus seemed to brace for impact.

"Fuck them especially!" Tisiphone answered furiously. "It's exactly striving for those things which makes us such a shitty race. Humans want something they can believe in… something that's bigger than themselves. Bigger than any one human. But if you have something that is bigger than any one person, then it becomes justifiable to sacrifice people to it! There just should be no great visions - there should be nothing that's held to be greater than the individual."

"It seems you like asari culture except our discussion style," Aethyta answered. She seemed unfazed by Tisiphone's outburst. "None of those overly polite toffs back home would ever show such passion."

"Well, I am a human," Tisiphone pointed out. "And as such, let me tell you: The last thing the galaxy needs is cloning human attitudes to other societies. Oh yes, humanity was oh so successful over the past decades… at the cost of humans."

"Do you prefer turian society? Or salarian society?" Aethyta asked drily.

She's really pushing all the buttons without even noticing it…

"If you absolutely must copy a society, how about the quarians?" Tisiphone argued. "Or the elcor? The elcor usually don't have any big visions."

"They have great butts, though," Aethyta replied. "Look, I've had this debate literally hundreds of times on Thessia. Despite your contrarian nature you probably would fit in just fine there. A life without any vision and without any purpose… just life? My people are just fine with that."

"For all I care you can have your damn vision and purpose," Tisiphone shot back. "If you really need the illusion that there is something greater than you out there, then by all means, use that crutch. Just don't fucking draw others into it. We're not here to serve your illusions!"

"Right, right," Shepard intervened to calm the situation down. "I don't think we'll get metaethics sorted out here. But on a purely pragmatic level… asari society is the most prosperous in the galaxy. Despite all those centuries 'wasted' by Maidens. Thing is, asari society can just plain afford this."

Aethyta groaned dismissively. "That would be where I tell you we could use that prosperity, that wealth, towards our goals, and where one of you two would then say they don't care about any great goals, or even that there shouldn't be 'unified' goals. Believe me, I've had this debate far too often already."

"Just give me some strong alcoholic drink," Tisiphone demanded. She turned to Shepard: "I'll go occupy a couch group, for when the others show up."

After she had gotten her drink, she walked off with large strides to do just that.

"Well, it's not like our discussion here will have any effect on what asari society will end up doing anyway," Shepard stated. "Sorry, but we two are… a bit argumentative."

"Really? I hadn't noticed at all," Aethyta stated drily. Tali snickered, while Garrus grinned. "It's a bit annoying, but it's still better than talking with the brain-dead zombies at home, so don't worry."

"For what it's worth, for me it's enough that you aren't authoritarian and don't want to force anybody," Shepard continued. "I can see where she's coming from, but… I think ideas competing on the marketplace of culture is fair enough. Including ideas of grand visions. As long as nobody is forced to participate."

Aethyta shrugged. "To be honest, I never really thought that aspect through. You don't think about methods much when even already your aim is rejected."

"Well, it isn't just a matter of which methods to use to reach a given goal," Shepard argued. "Some methods make the entire aim not worthwhile."

"Look, I understand that," Aethyta replied. "But have I called for those methods? Well, except accidentally."

"Ah, true, you haven't," Shepard admitted.

The conversation just sort of died afterwards. Neither Shepard, nor Aethyta, nor anybody else, said anything more. After a while, Tali spoke up: "We should see if Tisiphone is okay."

"Besides, Kasumi and Shiala will surely arrive soon," Garrus added.

Shepard nodded. Their group took their glasses and moved over to the couch group where Tisiphone had sat down. Four couches stood on a slightly elevated area, removed from the ground by three stair steps, positioned around a somewhat low glass table. Tisiphone saw them approaching. She had an ironic half-smile on her face.

"Well, that was… interesting," she commented as the group sat down. "Sorry for my outburst. That was silly of me, really. After all, Aethyta has in fact exiled herself, so it isn't like she can ever execute her idiotic ideas."

"I agree that asari society doesn't need her changes," Shepard answered. "Though right now we could maybe use a more disciplined asari race. What with the Reapers and everything."

"The battle of the Citadel is two years ago, and yet the Reapers are trying stuff again," Tisiphone pointed out. "I'd say we only have some few years at best before we're hit with an invasion. It isn't like you can reform asari society in that time. And the Reapers are an outside context problem. Nobody could realistically have expected them."

"That's true," Shepard agreed. "The galaxy will have to work with what we have. And if we survive, well, this way asari society at least won't have a problematic cultural heritage."

"I know you don't care about humanity, and I can understand that," Tali addressed Tisiphone. I could never renounce my own people, but it's her right to renounce hers. "But… you really also believe there should be no visions, no purpose, no grand designs, nothing of the sort?"

Tisiphone shook her head. "Purpose? There is no purpose in life. We can create illusions of it, and if you need that, then fine, whatever. But the problem is that those illusions require that everybody takes part - only that way can they truly be greater than the individual… whether the individual wants to or not."

"Visions should serve people, not the other way round," Shepard spoke up. "I mean, what would we organics be without visions or a sense of purpose? Still alive, still sapient, that's what we'd be. Still us. Meanwhile, what would those visions be without us? Not even existent. They exist for the clear sake of helping us, not for their own sake. People who put principles over people are people who hate people."

"But I don't think they ever truly do help people," Tisiphone argued. "As far as I'm concerned, we shouldn't be guided by higher ideals. It should be enough that we're all decent to each other… and if somebody hurts you, kick their ass. I don't think more 'guidelines' are required."

In a way, Tali realized, quarians had merely been "living", without any sense of purpose beyond mere survival, for centuries now. But that was hardly something they appreciated. They had to focus on survival now, so that eventually the quarian race would be more again than just a bunch of vagrants… so that eventually quarians would have a sense of purpose again. But what Tisiphone had said made a certain amount of sense to Tali: It would be difficult to 'shape quarian destiny' or 'give a purpose to the quarians' if half the quarians said no to that. So Tisiphone's observation that what she called an 'illusion of purpose' required the participation of the others whether they wanted or not had some truth to it.

But people want that sense of purpose. Not just humans. Quarians, too, and also turians, hanar, even asari. Taking that away from them would be both harmful and completely unrealistic. We're all sapient, but you can go only so much against your instincts and your people's nature.

Before she could formulate those thoughts into a coherent sentence to say, though, the group saw Kasumi and Shiala entering Eternity. The club had filled with considerably more people since Shepard and Tali had come inside, and lots of those were now looking at Shiala. Even at an open, multicultural place like Illium, a green asari would raise some attention.

After she and Kasumi had sat down and greetings had been exchanged, Shiala remarked: "This club seems rather large to me. But then, everything on Illium is. The trip here has been the first time in about a year since I've left Feros, and only the second trip away from it in two years. I think living there has warped my sense of perspective. I'd estimate that by Feros standards you could convert Eternity into living space for four to six families."

"I definitely know what you mean," Tali agreed. "I'd estimate about the same for Migrant Fleet standards."

Shepard looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped before he could. It was obvious to Tali what it would have been about. Yes, Jon, we know, there's a difference: We quarians have little choice about this, while the people on Feros set out by their own will to settle that planet. At least it seemed he was considerate enough not to bring up this point; it might have looked too much like a criticism of Shiala's good work there.

"It's even worse on the Citadel," Tali continued. "When I first saw the Presidium, I was absolutely aghast at this giant waste of space."

Garrus chuckled, in the typical short, choppy way turians did (or maybe that was just what the translators provided). "An apt description of the place if I ever heard one."

"Small places make for good hiding spots," Kasumi pointed out. "But crowded places? Yeah, bad for anonymity. Which is essential in my trade."

"You can maintain some privacy even then," Tali argued. "My people have gotten quite good at that over the centuries."

"Oh, I know," Kasumi agreed. "Keiji knew how to deal with it quite well. Myself, I grew up in a family that wasn't particularly well off, even below the average income, but still not poor. I suppose I started my career mostly because I was just a bit too tempted by challenges and glittery things." She grinned, but that expression quickly faltered. "Keiji, though, he grew up in an orphanage. He… let's just say his childhood was much harder."

She didn't provide any specifics, and nobody asked.

Instead Tisiphone spoke up: "Before the Alliance abducted me, I lived in Central Africa. The Fang state, to be precise. But my family was pretty rich, so I never encountered any of the problems they have there. We were pretty isolated from that. In fact, I suppose you could say I was rather spoiled." She, too, grinned now, but it was a rather bitter grin. "I suppose that helped. If you get kids young enough, they'll just accept whatever happens to them. Young minds are easy to shape, after all. But me, I had enough of an ego to never accept what was done to us."

"When the Normandy was at Earth, Kaidan didn't visit his family there," Shepard remembered. "They were obviously not on the best of terms. If his family had never given him enough of a sense of self-worth, that might explain his… attitude."

Young minds are easy to shape. That echoed in Tali's mind. In a certain way it had also been true of her, if in a drastically less severe way than what Tisiphone had experienced. Before she had met Shepard, she had always believed her duty was more important than her own wishes. Not given enough sense of self-worth? Maybe…

Tisiphone merely grunted vague agreement with Shepard. And she's probably right to not comment further. Kaidan is a topic that perhaps should better not be brought up between the two.

"And you haven't seen your family since then?" Shepard asked.

"No," Tisiphone answered. "Why should I have? I'm not who I was anymore. My parents' daughter… she's dead. The Alliance killed her. I just… I wouldn't know what to say to them, anyway. I mean, what would there be to say? I had been isolated from them for nine years. Half my youth the Alliance had me imprisoned and isolated! It wouldn't have been the same person returning. It's not like we could have ever gone back to normalcy." She shook her head.

A grave silence followed that rather depressing statement. Nobody seemed quite sure what to say. And why should we? I only have my father anymore, and my relationship to him is strained. Jon never had any family at all. Garrus is not exactly the best person to talk to her. None of us is in any position to give advice. Tali did not know where Kasumi or Shiala stood in regards to their families, but the two kept quiet as well.

The silence was only broke when Shiala began talking: "So we're exchanging life stories now? Why not. We'll have to work together, after all. Trust each other. As for me, my upbringing was so average for an asari it's almost boring. Salarians are still by far the most common alien mates for asari, so guess what species my father was? Of course, he died when I was still an infant, as could be expected. The 'father' I've known for most of my youth was a turian. My mother met her when she was still relatively young, so she stayed with us even well into my adult life." She made a vague hand gesture which Tali did not recognize. "Most of my life I've been with the Commandos. First at Shaltros, my hometown, a small republic where the 'Commandos' were little more than a weekend militia. Then at Tarassan, the planet's largest city and republic; their forces were quite good. And due to its importance and prominence, it was a matter of prestige and responsibility to send out those troops to help in disasters and conflicts elsewhere, even off world."

"You said you felt your work didn't really amount to anything," Garrus prompted.

"Yes," Shiala confirmed. "It wasn't like there was constantly a conflict on, but it happened often enough. And yet, in most cases our work didn't seem to actually solve anything. Not long-term anyway. We would pacify a republic that had experienced a social collapse, set up a new government and new infrastructure… and 60 years later we would be there again. It's true that we asari might have fewer such episodes than salarians or humans, but it's still disappointing. Benezia's teachings seemed like a way to change this. I thought if they spread it would help solve many of the conflicts I had encountered, and as for me personally, they gave a new sense of purpose to me."

Tali was a bit alarmed, but Tisiphone merely breathed out heavily; she seemed to be able to resist more reactions.

"What was it like being a follower of Benezia?" Tali asked quickly, before anybody could comment. She did not want the old debate to flare up again. "I mean, before she became indoctrinated?"

"Not much different than the circles of followers other important and famous Matriarchs have, I suppose," Shiala answered. "The most important role of Matriarchs is to spread ideas. If you feel particularly attracted to the ideas of a certain Matriarch, you naturally want to become their student. Matriarchs tend to gather students and followers around them."

"Under other circumstances I would've said that it sounds cultish… and I know what I'm talking about here," Tisiphone answered. "But having read up on it on the extranet… 'philosophical circle' seems apt. There doesn't actually seem to be a cult of personality in them."

Shiala looked surprised. "No, of course not! When Benezia sought out Saren, a majority of her followers left. They thought it was too dangerous, or even a foolish idea, to try to calm him. But I stayed, because I trusted her. I thought she was wise enough to know what she was doing. And maybe she was… but none of us could have foreseen that Saren, or rather Sovereign, had indoctrination capabilities. Everybody who stayed ended up indoctrinated."

"Another grand plan that failed," Garrus mused. "Maybe Tisiphone has the right of it, after all. I tried to seek purpose on Omega, and look how that turned out."

Tisiphone looked a bit surprised, but not entirely unsympathetic at that admission. And it's rare enough that she looks at Garrus at all.

"What did happen on Omega, anyway?" Shepard asked. "I could piece some parts together, but you never really told us."

"It isn't something I'm proud of," Garrus stated. "It ended in utter disaster. And that only because I was a naive fool."

"The three top gangs of Omega united to take you down," Shepard reminded him. "Just you personally. You must have done something right."

"It's a sort of achievement," Garrus conceded. "My manager at C-Sec would've been proud." He looked down and seemed to consider the issue. "Tell you what. Let's all get another round of drinks and I'll tell you about Omega. I suppose after you saved my butt you have the right to know."

He waved a waitress over to their table. After she came back with the drinks, he still remained silent for a while.

"Well," he finally spoke up. "You've seen Omega. It's full of thugs kicking the helpless. I wanted to kick back, so I formed a team to do just that."

"So you were vigilantes, basically?" Shepard inquired.

"Yes," Garrus confirmed. "Every member of my squad had lost somebody to the gangs. They all had a personal reason to join… security consultants tired of playing by the rules or being restricted by their contracts. Mercs wanting to atone. Private citizens out for revenge. I gave them hope… until I led them to their deaths."

"I've seen vigilante groups in my commando time," Shiala spoke up. "Often, they were just another warband, just another gang."

"Not us," Garrus insisted. "No civilian casualties. That was our rule. And no sacrifices of innocents. I'm sure you can see where I got that from. We weren't out to make money or win power. Each of us could have done that better with their skills inside the gangs. We only wanted to make those bastards think twice before murdering someone in the streets."

"I met some members of the squad," Shepard stated. "Sidonis, and that batarian hacker…"

"Yes. Sidonis," Garrus echoed. He sounded icy. "He was my first team member. My right hand. Spirits, he was the guy that came up with our tactical doctrine."

"Tactical doctrine?" Shepard asked.

"Even at our largest we were only twelve people," Garrus explained, "myself included. We couldn't take the gangs heads on. So, we used guerrilla tactics: Hit their shipments, assassinate their officers, disrupt their activities. Get under their skin. Make them angry. They'd come right into our well-prepared kill-zone. That had been Sidonis' idea: Crossfire, snipers, bomb-rigged traps. They never stood a chance."

"Twelve people?" Shiala further inquired. She sounded impressed. "Against all of Omega's gangs? It sounds like you were Commandos."

"Two of my squad members had been, actually," Garrus agreed. "One of them had even had fought in the Geth War, a volunteer on the quarian side. And that batarian? Constantly in a foul mood, but the only better hacker I've ever seen is Tali. The bomb traps were made by a salarian. His knowledge about chemical explosives astounded me, and he could hold up his own in a straight fight, too. I'm pretty sure he spent some time in the STG." He shook his head. "What I'm saying is, we were all experts. And now all that talent, and all that dedication, is gone. Wasted."

"What happened?" Shepard asked.

"Sidonis." Garrus basically spat the name out. "He happened. He betrayed me… he betrayed all of us!"

"Sidonis?" Shepard asked, shocked. "But… he seemed fully committed to your cause when I met him."

"You have the excuse of only having met him for a few hours," Garrus stated. "Me, I had been intensively working with him for months, and I still believed he was, as you say, dedicated to the cause. Shows what judge of character I am."

"What did he do?" Tali asked.

"He called me to help him on a job," Garrus explained. "Nothing unusual. The meeting point we agreed on was a bit far from our base, but by that time we had extended activities to nearly all of Omega already, so I didn't suspect anything. But when I arrived, nobody was there… and my communicator was being jammed, so I knew something was up. I hurried back to our hideout as quickly as I could, but I came too late: The mercs had already started their attack. I managed to break through their lines, only to find all but two of my team dead… and those two didn't last long."

"Ah, damn," Shepard commented. "You're right, I only met Sidonis shortly, but… from what I've seen of him, that doesn't quite fit to him. You sure it was him? Maybe the mercs just got him first."

"No," Garrus answered. "While the siege was ongoing, I called up some of my contacts. None of them were willing to help, not against the Big Three standing united, but some could give me some information on Sidonis. Just before he had called me, he had cleared all of his private accounts on the station, and booked passage to the Citadel. He sold us out, plain and simple."

"The Citadel?" Shepard echoed. "So you know where he is?"

"No," Garrus replied. "The Citadel is the centre of the relay network. You can reach just about every part of the galaxy from it, so it's the logical choice to go to if you want to flee. I doubt he's still there. Also, after I came aboard the Akuze I managed to get into contact with some old colleagues at C-Sec. Nobody matching Sidonis' description has entered the station, according to their records. That means he's hiding his tracks. He knows that he has done wrong, and that I will come for him, no matter where he is."

"And will you?" Shepard inquired.

"Without a doubt," Garrus confirmed. "Everyone in my team is dead… except for Sidonis. And I intend to correct that."

Shepard nodded gravely. Of course, this fits squarely with his own attitudes. There was no justice system on Omega… and as far as Shepard was concerned that meant taking justice into one's own hands was fully justified.

Tali was worried about something else, though. "But why are you blaming yourself then? You said it yourself, you faced betrayal from the inside. You did good, excellent, before that."

"Because I should have seen it coming!" Garrus exclaimed angrily. "I thought I knew my team. That was stupid, blind arrogance… and that is what cost my team their lives. Sidonis is a traitor? Well, I should have seen that! I was too damn trusting."

"That seems overly harsh on yourself," Shiala remarked. "You can never fully see another person. Even we asari… maybe over the course of several mindmelds we can come to completely understand our mates. One time wouldn't even be enough, and other races don't even have that option."

"It's become almost trite to say in human culture, but it's true: Every man is an island," Shepard added. "We can try to build connections with other people, try to understand them but we all remain different, separate people in the end. And hey, most times that's a good thing." Shiala looked uncomfortable with that conclusion. And with good reason. He means what he says. Which is exactly why he dislikes mindmelds. "But it also means we can never completely foresee what another person will do."

"So what you're saying is we always have to expect the worst?" Garrus asked. "Even here, right now? That even one of us here could be a traitor out to see us all fall?"

"Yes," Shepard answered evenly. He looked Garrus directly in the eyes. "It's entirely possible. And if that turns out to be the case, we shouldn't blame ourselves, because there would have been no way for us to see it coming. We simply need to have some level of trust; otherwise cooperation would be impossible."

"We need cooperation, so we need other people and we need society," Tisiphone added. "Even though both other people and especially society have a tendency to fuck you over. The tragedy of our lives, really. Solitary animals have it so much easier…"

It appeared Garrus wanted to say something, but he hesitated. For several seconds he tried to find words. Finally, he hung his head low and said: "So whatever we do, we're screwed. Just one person is enough to completely destroy what we've carefully built up over a long time. That seems so… pointless."

"That's why I joined Benezia's circle," Shiala answered. "She seemed to have answers to these problems. But now… now I'm not sure if even her wisdom before her indoctrination is really enough. Even such a small colony like Feros can't seem to get rid of its problems, for example. And all it took was a single vindictive representative who set up a thoroughly unethical contract."

"But Feros is still going on," Garrus pointed out. "In large parts thanks to you. You even managed to lead it securely through the Non-Compliance Crisis." He smiled slightly. "I saw you on the news, standing behind Martinez when she proclaimed Feros' non-compliance. You managed to stick true to the colony's ideals and survive."

"And you managed to upset the Omegan gangs so thoroughly that three arch-enemies banded together to take you out," Shiala replied. "Don't sell yourself short."

"I had the potential to do so much more," Garrus insisted. "All the people gathered with the motivation and skill to take on the gangs…" He shook his hand. "But don't mind me. I didn't mean to crash the mood."

"It's not like you were the first," Tisiphone muttered. She looked down on the floor.

It took some time for the conversation to get going again. It now centered mostly on lighter topics. Most of the time, it was Shiala and Kasumi talking. Kasumi described some especially daring or amusing heists she or Keiji, or both of them, had done, while Shiala talked about her time in the commandos. Garrus remained silent, and so did Tisiphone; both seemed to brood. Tali meanwhile was comfortable simply listening to the stories.

She suspected her drink had included a light relaxant; either way she felt rather carefree and comfortable at the moment. She pulled up her knees onto the couch, and cuddled up to Shepard. He had leaned back into the couch, and now wrapped his arm around her. He looked down at her and smiled.

Ever since the Akuze had docked at Illium, Shepard was the most 'himself' again than he had been in weeks before. Certainly the most since he had agreed to work with Cerberus. The real test would of course come once the ship departed again. For now, for all practical intents and purposes, the mission was on a pause. After the decisive victory over the Collectors at Horizon it was a well earned break, but it did mean current circumstances were a bit extraordinary.

Still, Tali was oddly optimistic. We managed to make a home of sorts out of the Normandy. We'll manage to make one out of the Akuze as well.

After a while, Shiala got up to go to Eternity's dance floor. Tali and Shepard shortly discussed going there as well, but both had little desire to leave their cozy couch. Garrus got up to get more to drink at the bar, and apparently ended up staying there. This left Kasumi and Tisiphone to have one of the weirdest conversations Tali had ever witnessed: The thief and the ex-terrorist exchanged tips on how to best enter buildings and how to leave quickly again.

Tali vaguely followed it until something else attracted her attention: A young quarian woman had just entered the club, accompanied by an asari. Both looked concerned.

"It's okay! I'll think of something!" the asari told the quarian.

"You said Synthetic Insights would buy me!" the quarian complained. Her envirosuit had a distinctly green colour theme. "You said it would be an easy trade!"

It was really very rare to encounter quarians anywhere in the galaxy, so the woman's presence alone would have picked up Tali's interest. If nothing else, chances to meet a fellow fleet member and talk about home were always cherished. But what the two had said only added to Tali's interest. She's an… what do they call it? Indentured servant. And she's in trouble.

There were thousands of indentured servants on Illium. The system was rotten, but nothing could be done about it. However, this indentured servant was a quarian, and Tali had always looked for ways to help her people. She stood up and walked towards the quarian and the asari. Curious, Shepard looked where she was going and then got up himself.

When Tali had caught up to them, the asari seemed to try to reassure the quarian. "I'll find a solution for you. Don't worry."

"I didn't think I'd see a fleet sister here," Tali spoke up, drawing the attention of both women to her.

"Neither did I!" the quarian exclaimed surprised. She hesitated slightly. "I hope your pilgrimage is going better than mine."

This slightly amused Tali. "I'm not here on my pilgrimage. I am already part of a ship crew, but currently… on a mission."

"On a mission?" the asari echoed. "You don't happen to have come across people with an interest in AI experts?"

My father, but I doubt that is what she meant. "No," Tali answered. "Why?"

"We need to find somebody to buy my contract," the quarian explained. She sounded sad. "We hoped Synthetic Insights would do it, but they declined. Now, I don't know what will happen to me."

"A solution always presents itself," the asari reassured her. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"You said you're on pilgrimage?" Tali prompted the quarian.

"Yes," the quarian answered. "It isn't going so well."

Shepard had just approached the group, too. The asari's eyes widened when she saw him; she had obviously recognized him, but remained silent. The Spectre scoffed quietly, and then gave a 'told you so' grin to Tali. Not that there was really much of her belief in the pilgrimage tradition remaining anymore.

"My name is Shen'Hebiah nar Oshun," the quarian continued. "I came to Illium, because I thought that's better than some backwater planet where I can do salvage. I've always been good with numbers, so I thought I could play the stock market… but I lost everything. Then I got a credit line and lost that, too. Then I got an illegal loan… you get the picture."

"As part of our agreements I paid off her debts," the asari explained. "Five years from now, she'll have a fresh start and excellent work references."

Five years! She'd be separated from the fleets for five years? And part of Tali added in her thoughts: She could be caught five years here because of the pilgrimage tradition...

Shepard was apparently thinking along the same lines. "She won't have much need of that in the Migrant Fleet."

"And if she just ran off to the Fleet, what about her debts then?" the asari argued. "I'm sorry, but those needed repaying. I did that, so now I am looking to be repaid."

"It's the creditors own fault for agreeing to such high risk loans," Shepard replied. "Their risk, their loss."

"That's not the way we do business on Illium," the asari answered. "And I think the planet has been rather successful with its model so far."

"No, on Illium you simply reinstated debt slavery," Shepard sneered.

"I know that batarian slavers have made humans understandably prejudiced against slavery," the asari defended herself. "But this is different. Indentured servitude lasts a set amount of time, or until certain conditions are met. Illium must approve all contracts. The law limits what tasks I can assign her, and what restraint or corrective options I can use."

"But you can use 'restraint or corrective options'," Shepard pointed out. It seemed anger was growing inside him.

"Ms Hebiah signed away the right to her labour force, and I bought it up," the asari argued. "I need to have options in case she reneges on that agreement. As it stands, the only option I'd have are limiting her movements and non-vital supplies. I'm in no way allowed to use physical force, for example."

"But you can jail her, essentially," Shepard continued to drive the point home.

"Please," Shen intervened. "She… she isn't so bad as you try to make her out. Whatever you think of the system, she has so far always treated me well."

"She's part of that system," Shepard pointed out.

"Yes, but… there are worse parts," Shen argued. "There are contract brokers out there who do have contracts that allow for limited physical force. And there are cases of abuse. She… she's honourable."

"Thank you, dear," the asari said. "Though, this really doesn't help my argument."

"I've seen Illium police in action," Shepard told her. "I know how easily they're bought. It didn't take her for me to know that any protection against abuses on Illium will always be paper thin at best. Fact is, if you're rich enough you can buy anything here… including exemptions from the law."

"I'd like to argue against that, but that would be pretty hard," the asari admitted. "But look, this isn't getting anyone of us any further. I'm a contract broker. I buy up contracts which I think might interest other people, and then resell them at a minor profit. In the meantime, I try my best to take care of my indentured servants as well as possible. And all the complaints about the system won't change the fact that I currently don't have a buyer, or even only a potential buyer, for her contract."

"So what will you do?" Tali asked.

"Since I am her contract owner, I am legally bound to take care of her until I can sell it, and that's exactly what I will do," the asari insisted. "In the meanwhile, I'll continue trying to find a buyer. Ideally, I had hoped I could make good money with her AI programming skills, but she has other talents as well. I only fear that in the end I might only recuperate a small part of my investments."

"You're not… you won't sell me to work in the mines, will you?" Shen asked fearfully.

"Even if nobody wants your AI skills, there are lots of other options besides the mines," the asari reassured her. "And, no offence, but a quarian might not be the best worker for that job, anyway."

"What is the price of her contract?" Tali demanded to know.

"My aim was to get a price in the hundreds of thousands in the negotiations," the asari told her. "Why? You're not thinking of buying her yourself? Forget it. Even if you could come up with the money, her service contracts specifies she remains on Illium. And before you start again, Mr Shepard, this is for her own protection."

"It's a standard clause in nearly all contracts," Shen explained. "So that you can't be sold to batarians or pirates."

"Exactly," the asari continued. "Also, what would you do with your indentured servant then? You could free her, but there's a fee for doing that before the contract period ends."

I'm not letting a fleet sister waste away for five years on this planet! Though it appeared Tali's options to do something about this were limited. The law clearly was on the asari's side. As a Spectre, Shepard could simply ignore the laws, but this was not a step to be taken lightly: If the asari really was one of the 'better' contract brokers, then hurting her would encourage the more abusive ones. And much more importantly, she could not be sure if Shen would even agree with this. Simply kidnapping her without asking her would not be a solution, either.

But then, suddenly, she did have a solution. It was as if an idea had suddenly emerged out of nothing in her head.

"You said you're good with numbers?" she asked Shen.

"Yes," Shen confirmed. "My clan trained me in AI programming, but my tasks aboard were mostly in the office of the ship's quartermaster." Her voice gained some shaky confidence. "Before I left for the pilgrimage, I think I was her most important assistant. All our inter-ship trade was monitored by me."

"That's why you thought you could play the stock market here?" Tali inquired.

"I thought it would be similar," Shen tried to defend herself. "And in many ways it is. Back at home, I always got the numbers for how much of a resource a particular ship consumed and how much it produced. After a while, it was easy to see where we would have production peaks or resource shortfalls, even if they were months in the future. I thought it would be the same here… it's the same principles of demand and production. So I got every bit of information on the corporations on the stock market… but it wasn't enough. I could see where the price development of their shares should go… but unlike on the Flotilla, the numbers just didn't behave as they should." Tell me about it. "People here often act irrationally. I could even see just where the divergence happened, but that didn't help me much."

"The point of divergence… where the numbers behaved differently than they should have?" Tali further asked. When Shen nodded, Tali addressed the contract broker: "So we can't buy the whole contract, but what about short term jobs? How is that handled?"

"We set up a contract between us," the asari informed her. "You pay me a certain sum, depending on the length and difficulty of the work, and she will do the job."

"She doesn't get anything out of it?" Tali asked.

"As I've said, per her contract Ms Hebiah has sold her labour force to me," the contract broker argued. "What she gets out of it is the support and care I legally owe to her."

"What do you have in mind, Tali?" Shepard asked. He sounded a bit suspicious.

"We do have a problem with numbers not adding up, don't we?" Tali replied. And once Shen is on the ship, away from the contract broker's ears, we can ask her if she wants us to get her out of this situation…