Ashley stood in the window, the late Anhur afternoon sun washing over her face. Commander Kehlash had organized for Pacwanar to be brought to the hospital on the nearest military base - theoretically more secure than any civilian hospital on the planet. And then he'd had her shown to a private waiting room - a small square space with a couple of chairs and a few worn datapads loaded with weeks-old magazines. Below the tall rise of the hospital's tower she could see the blocks of the base's other buildings, the milling of hundreds of people like ants and sunlight shining off the metal of military vehicles. The Alliance had given Anhur a ton of old military surplus - she counted at least ten Grizzly IFVs parked in one of the compounds.

This guy better not fuckin' die. Not after the trouble they'd gone to free him.

Jaz was napping on one of the chairs, head drooping towards his chest. They'd stripped out of the armour, dressed in civvies and come straight to the hospital. She rolled her shoulders, grateful for getting the weight off them. She'd spent a lot longer in armour, of course, whole days - but it was always a relief to take a hardsuit off.

The door slid open and Jaz jerked away, nearly rolling right off his seat before he caught himself. It was Agent James, the AIA spook, now dressed in a clean-cut dark suit, hair in a neat bun. Ash thought she might as well have written I AM A SPY on her forehead.

"Lieutenant Williams, Corporal Teke," she said stiffly.

"Agent James," Ash turned away from the window and crossed her arms.

"Yo, spook," Jaz wiggled his fingers at her in greeting.

James glanced around the room. "Where's your Spectre?"

Ash shrugged. She'd assumed Maetok would want to question Pacwanar herself, but she'd disappeared soon after the raid, leaving Ash vague instructions to stay with the colonel. "Probably off plotting somewhere. Maetok tells me what she wants me to know and no more."

"Sounds frustrating," James remarked.

Ash smiled thinly, "Take it from me - Spectres are always trouble."

"I've spoken to the President of Anhur," James turned away, glancing at the same view Ash had stared at. "He's pleased we've captured so many of that militia cell - and without too many deaths, though he did wish Sansok hadn't been killed. The Hegemony ambassador is upset about that."

"Significantly less deaths than if we'd done it," Ash admitted, ignoring the comment about Sansok. He'd been a spy working with terrorists - even the Hegemony couldn't push that too far. "You and Kehlash were right about that."

James shrugged it off, "Just wish our superiors had bothered to tell me what was going on."

Sometimes Ashley wondered if SASOC and the AIA bothered to talk to each other. "Yeah."

"Don't suppose you can tell me why a Spectre wants this guy so badly?"

Ash shook her head. "Need to know only."

"Worth a shot. Anyway, Pacwanar is awake. He's insisting he'll only speak to you."

Ash glared at her. The AIA would try to just interrogate her asset.

James shrugged, unrepentant. "Can't blame me for trying."

Ash just shook her head and pushed past the AIA agent. "Jaz, c'mon."

Pacwanar had been in a private room, guarded by two of Kehlash's Republican police - both carrying Mattock rifles. The man himself was propped up in the hospital bed, attached to monitors and an IV in the back of his hand. His missing eye was hidden by bandaging and his face was bruised and swollen, his body strangely small under the hospital blanket for a batarian of his size, like the weight had melted off his bones. Sansok hadn't gone easy on him.

On the upside, he was no longer covered in blood.

"Colonel."

Didn't hurt to be polite.

Pacwanar's bottom pair of eyes focused on her, his remaining upper eye remaining fixed on the ceiling. "Lieutenant Williams. I…owe you a great debt."

His voice was stiff as a two by four, his lips curling back to reveal sharp, needle like teeth.

Ash shrugged, settling into the chair beside his bed. "Well, considering you helped me with Sansok, let's just call it even."

"A pity about Sansok," Pacwanar rasped, "He was a patriot and a brave man - but you did what was needed."

Williams recoiled, scoffing, "He cut your goddamn eye out."

A shudder ran through the batarian - but then he quickly stilled. "He did his duty, as you did."

"We have different ideas of duty," Ash said, glancing at Jaz who stood by the door. The younger Marine raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps. But I am not here to debate the politics and ethics of our respective peoples, Lieutenant. I am here because my duty to mine is clear, though they may never forgive me for this. You - you were there when the Spectre Saren Arterius died. You know of them. The great machines - the hungry machines - waiting in dark space. The machines that ate the Prothean empire."

Ash leant back in her seat, "The Reapers? You know about the Reapers?"

Pacwanar looked at her - and there was something old and haunted in his eyes. "Lieutenant Williams, I have seen one."

"What?" Ash half-rose to her feet, "Where?"

"It was dead, Lieutenant," Pacwanar said, "but even a dead god has power. Years ago a survey team on the edges of our space found an ancient dreadnought wreck on the planet of Jartar. The Leviathan of Dis, the crew called it. It was, of course, seized by the Hegemony military and its existence denied."

"Of course," Ash echoed dryly.

If he noted her sarcasm he didn't rise to it. "It was transported to the homeworld and hundreds of our finest scientists put to work to dicepher its secrets. It was hoped we could reverse engineer its technology and gain and edge over the Alliance."

Ash breathed out, pursed her lips. "So. Let me get this straight. The batarian Hegemony has been studying a Reaper corpse. For years."

"Yes. This is but the shadow of the true problem."

"The what?" Had to be a colloquialism. "Never mind. Continue."

"Water, please."

"Sure." She poured him a glass of water and pressed the plastic cup into his hands. He poured the water down his throat in one gulp and handed her the cup back with a satisfied hum. "So - studying a Reaper corpse on your home planet. Great idea. Right up there with invading Russia in winter."

Pacwanar's bottom pair of eyes narrowed. "I do not know what a 'Russia' is."

"Nevermind." She waved a hand.

"You must understand," Pacwanar's voice dropped, "the scientists told the Hegemon it was dead - and what harm could a corpse cause? The Hegemon was raised on stories of conquest and great victories, but he has ruled a weakened empire, one betrayed by the Council and run out of the Traverse by…"

"Upstarts?" Ash offered, "That's a popular term."

"Upstarts," Pacwanar didn't quite smile, "and so he has listened to the more…militant of his advisors. He has become convinced that a single, brutal enough strike against the Alliance would force you to retreat from the Traverse."

"Sure, hence the Blitz and the attack on Terra Nova. What does that have to do with this Reaper?"

"After the failure on X57, Ra'elok was - angry. Furious, even. If his military could not deliver him victory, he said, he would find another way." Pacwanar stared at something past her, gaze hazy and distant. "And so he took a much deeper interest in the Leviathan. In fact he became - obsessed. Different. He always had a ruthless streak - he had to, to survive his brothers - but this was different. He had army and External Forces officers executed for cowardice, treason, incompetence - for questioning the resources spent on the Leviathan. He reassured me it was necessary, told me its secrets would save the batarian people."

His eyes focused on her. "For a time I believed him. But I - saw the thing you called Sovereign and the similarity was inescapable, so I began to do my own research into the Council's war with the geth and the voyage of your ship, the Normandy. I thought perhaps I might at least identify some weaknesses in the Council after such a conflict, but instead what I found was…well. You were there.

"One night came where he summoned me to a secret research facility. There he told me that his spies had brought him word the Alliance was working on a terrible weapon - a dark energy weapon capable of destroying worlds, based on the shattered bones of Sovereign. He said the Hegemony must complete such a weapon first. He said that we had the advantage of having an intact Leviathan."

Ash felt the blood drain from her face. "The Hegemony is-"

"Building a planet-killer, yes. Once complete, Ra'elok will use it against the Systems Alliance. And when the dark machines descend upon us, they will find the galaxy at war with itself and ripe for the taking."

"Do you have hard evidence of this?" she managed, "And the location of where this weapon is being built?"

"Yes and yes," the colonel said grimly, "I have a greybox. I will show you the memories if it will convince you of the truth."

"…thanks," Ash said. This made X57 look like a sideshow.

"I do not pretend to like your people or your government, Lieutenant," Pacwanar said, eyes fluttering shut, "but I saw what just being around the Leviathan of Dis for long did to some of the brightest batarians alive - what it did to a man I have known my entire life. I cannot imagine such creatures would understand the concept of mercy enough to spare my people from their conquest."

"They won't," Ash replied, certainty bone-deep. Shepard had been right, in what she said to Saren. "They'll use you and then eat you for dessert once they're finished with the rest of us."

Pacwanar sighed. "That's what I thought."

"If you'll excuse me, Colonel, I need to go talk to my superiors."

When she was half-way to the door, Pacwanar spoke again, "Lieutenant?"

"Yeah?"

His words were blunt as a hammer, "Is the Alliance building such a weapon?"

Jaz scoffed but Ash shook her head at him. She tried to think of the right words. "Look - I'm not gonna lie and say I know everything my government is up to, but that'd be against the Citadel Conventions. We wouldn't just be risking sanction - we could lsoe our Council seat over that. Hell, the turians might attack us for it."

She wasn't sure if she'd put him at ease, but he nodded.

Ashley made her way to the Achilles - now resting on one of the base's landing pads - in record time, and commandeered the comms room, opening up a secure channel direct to Commodore David Anderson, the one she was only supposed to use when he needed to know something immediately.

"Hunter Actual, this better be important," Anderson grumbled over the line, just a voice in the dim room, "you pulled me out of a meeting with the Council. Udina will have my hide for it later."

"I spoke to our informant. I reckon those rumours about him and the Hegemon are true, after all."

"Williams-"

"Oh, right. The Hegemon is almost definitely indoctrinated and he's building a dark energy superweapon."

The silence from the other end was darkly satisfying.

"Feeling better?" Shepard leant against the bulkhead, crossing her arms.

"I guess," Jack laid on her back on her cot, hands folded behind her head, frowning slightly, "Thanks, I guess."

"Anytime," Shepard said with a hint of irony, and turned to go.

"Wait." Jack was suddenly on her feet and pacing forward, eyes narrowed, "You keep asking questions and doing shit for me. You haven't even brought up me keeping my shotgun down here. Why?"

Shepard rubbed her forehead. She still felt bruised all over from getting knocked over by that krogan battlemaster. One day - just one day, she'd just get a thanks and that'd be all. "You're a member of my crew. I want to know you."

Jack's expression was a mix of doubt and suspicion, "You wanna fuck? Because if this is about sex, you should just fucking say so."

Shepard resisted the urge to sigh. She felt a prickle of disappointment - she'd thought they'd been making progress. But considering what Jack had been through, the odd step backwards was to be expected. She couldn't expect Jack to trust her even after blowing up the Teltin facility. Too many people had screwed her over - for money, for sex.

"I don't want to sleep with you, Jack," she said carefully. "I want to get to know you."

Jack's expression didn't change. "Whatever. Everyone is out for themselves in the end."

Shepard paused by the stairs. "You're right - I do an ulterior motive. If you can't trust me or I can't trust you on the battlefield, there's a good chance both of us end up dead."

Jack sneered. "Death is easy. Fuckin' on/off switch. Caring about other people - that's what makes you slip up, gets you killed."

"That might work when you're on Omega or when you're a pirate," Shepard clasped her hands behind her back, "but it doesn't in war. And we are at war, Jack. If we don't work together, we'll all die. Probably in horrible, pointless ways that mean nothing at all in the end. Maybe that doesn't matter to you, but it does to me. I've seen a lot of horrible, pointless deaths and this mission isn't going to be a rerun of that. I won't let it, even if it kills me."

Jack just stared at her.

Shepard turned away. "Goodnight, Jack."

This wasn't going to be like Akuze - a slaughter for no real reason at all, done in Cerberus' name.

"Commander, you have a new email!" Kelly chirped when she emerged into the CIC, blinking against the glare of white light. She stepped up to the podium and opened her emails, pausing when she saw that she'd received a message from Anderson, routed through the one she'd given to Coyle.

…heard from a little birdy that you're in need of a new gun for your boat. Come to the Citadel and we'll see what we can do.

Her smile at that - hell, she'd been wracking her brains for how to get her hands on a Thanix cannon - slid right off her face when she read Anderson's price.

The Orizaba was currently docked at the Citadel. Anderson's old friend wanted to see her daughter.

"…do you trust his information?"

The Achilles' comms room was crowded with just Ash, Sūn, Gabriel and Maetok crammed into it. It was crowded enough that Gabriel's shoulder keep brushing hers - and then he'd inevitably jerk back, trying to keep space between them. Ashley did her best to ignore it even as she wished she'd stood on the other side of Sūn, focusing on the blue-tinged images of Commodore Anderson and Fleet Admiral Hackett.

"I do, Admiral," Maetok said, tilting her head beneath her hood, glassy eyes reflecting spots of silvered light, "I have reviewed his greybox - and fabricating greybox files is close to impossible. He saw a vessel closely resembling Sovereign and evidence of dark energy weapon research. Unless the Hegemony has somehow outdone the Union in neuro-technology," the contempt in the Spectre's voice showed what she thought of that concept, "or the Hegemon fabricated a Reaper corpse and a giant research facility for the purpose of fooling his close childhood friend, Pacwanar's intel is correct."

Sūn's mouth twisted in unease, "The batarians do research heavily into that field -"

"Butchering slaves' neural systems for the sake of enforcing obedience is hardly the same as the deft, delicate work of creating false memories through a greybox," Maetok cut him off, "A greybox is an extension of the brain, of the mind and of the memory."

"They cut his eye out," Ash said quietly. All eyes slid to her, and she shrugged. "Look, I did my reading. A high ranking batarian like him - he'd never let them cut out his eye to sell false intel. His soul has been damaged."

It'd been an act meant to dehumanise him. De-batarian him? Whatever.

"I believe Lieutenant Williams is correct," Spectre Maetok confirmed.

Anderson looked troubled, even through the flickering holograph, "Such a weapon - this isn't just a threat, it could be an existential threat to the Alliance and to the rest of the Council. We need to respond - and quickly."

"Not just quickly," Maetok jumped in, "Immediately. We need to strike that project before the Hegemon moves it or reinforces it so much that a special operations strike cannot succeed. Otherwise the only option that will be left to us is a full-scale war."

Hackett's steely gaze settled on Maetok. "Spectre, you are asking us to commit a military strike on a core Hegemony world. I will need to discuss this with the Prime Minister and the Defence Council. Strike or not, we might still find ourselves in a war."

"No need," the salarian retorted briskly, "I am a Spectre, I can authorise the mission. The Achilles is stealth capable. She can get us where we need to be, and Lieutenant Williams and her team are passably competent."

Hackett's expression darkened, "Spectre or not, the Achilles' crew and MSOT 27 are my troops. I will not require them to undertake such a strike, not without proper analysis."

Ash found herself oddly touched. Hackett was a ruthless sonofabitch sometimes - hell it'd been barely a month since he'd used her as bait for Shepard - but he did have his people's backs.

Maetok on the other hand. Passably competent? She was a bitch who'd spent the whole time questioning Ash on everything. But…she was right.

"Sir," Ash spoke up before the Spectre could, "I volunteer."

Gabe straightened beside her, "As do I, sir. I'll speak to my crew, sir, but I'm certain we'll have enough volunteers to take the Achilles where she needs to go."

Hackett said nothing for a long moment, examining the boith of them with those sharp eyes. Then they turned to Sūn, "What about you, Master Sergeant?"

Sūn scratched his face and then shrugged. "If Lieutenant Williams is going, I'm going, sir. I'd say the same about the rest of our boys and girls."

"There will be no support," Anderson broke in, his voice flat, "no way for us to extract you if you're captured. Hell, we might have to denounce you to stop a war."

"I understand," Ash said, feeling calm and cool on the inside. She'd been called ruthless once or twice herself. It was simple. The lives of everyone on the Achilles versus the lives that'd be lost if this project suceeded? She didn't particularly want to die, but the exchange was worth it.

Just like it'd be worth it with the Ilos attack.

"Well, I'll need to brief the Defence Council," Hackett said but his attention focused on Maetok, "But try to take my troops from underneath me again and I will make you regret it, Spectre or not. Am I clear?"

"Very much so," a strange, almost satisfied expression crossed the salarian's face.

"We will be discussing this later, Williams," Anderson warned. He didn't approve of 'reckless heroism' or whatever the words he'd used last time had been.

"Looking forward to it, sir," she replied cheerily.

"One of these days, Williams…"

Shepard stared at the closed door like it might suddenly open up and swallow her whole. Her heart was a hard beat beneath her sternum, hands hanging limply at her sides. The fear inside her seemed to have a life of its own, clawing at her insides until it felt like she might burst with it. Miranda had offered her an escort, Tali and Garrus had both offered to come with her, but she'd refused them all. There were a few things you had to do yourself.

For a split second she considered just leaving. Once she opened this door to a nondescript Citadel apartment, there'd be no turning back. She'd know, for certain.

But Emilia Shepard wasn't a coward, so she gritted her teeth and thumbed the door open.

She stepped through and squared her shoulders as it hissed shut behind her. Bracing herself -

"Emilia," Hannah Shepard breathed, and for a moment they just looked at each other, here in this bare apartment, the Presidium's fake sunlight streaming in the window. Hannah was in her uniform, command star glinting gold on her pocket. She studied the familiar, regal planes of her face, the unfamiliar thick streaks of grey. There were more lines around her eyes and mouth, a tired kind of look in her hazel eyes, but she still held herself with a quiet authority that Emilia had always attempted to emulate.

Suddenly she found herself crushed in a hug tight enough to drive the breath out of her. She buried her face in Hannah's shoulder and clenched a hand in the back of her mother's uniform jacket, breathing in a smell of military soap and perfume as familiar and warming as the hug itself. God. God. Her eyes burned as she buried her face in Hannah's shoulder. There'd been some piece of her, small and pained, that had carried a fear so deep she hadn't been able to contemplate it.

That Hannah would look at her the same way Anderson and Ashley had - with caution and suspicion, like they weren't sure she was her. Like she was a ghost or an impersonation of the person they'd loved.

"Oh, Emilia, I missed you," Hannah chocked out. Shepard pulled back reluctantly and was shocked to see unshed tears brightening her ma's eyes. She rubbed a thumb against the red, gleaming scar along her cheekbone and Shepard flinched despite herself. "Does it hurt?"

Shepard shook her head, suddenly not sure what to say. She'd never doubted that her mother loved her, but Hannah hadn't always the most emotionally open parent. Career advice, a couch to sleep on when Rita kicked her out, a steady presence when she was falling apart - those had been the ways Hannah expressed her love.

She didn't know how to navigate this conversation.

Hannah took a step back, looking her up and down, hands on her shoulders. "I love you. I'm - I'm so glad you're alive."

"You're not angry?" Shepard asked, rubbing at the back of her neck.

Hannah was quiet for a long moment, before she spoke carefully, "I can't say I'm not - confused, about why you didn't contact me. Finding out from Hackett was…hard. But I spent two years thinking I'd lost my daughter and I - I get you you back. What else can I be besides grateful? I love you and I missed you and I'm sorry for everything that's happened."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm your mother," Hannah said archly, "I'm allowed to worry, to want to take away all of your pain."

Shepard wanted to tell her all of it. The nightmares, the anxiety, the panic attacks. How the end of the war was something she could no longer imagine, that life without a gun in her hand sounded like a dream. How she felt she might be losing herself in this devil's bargain with the Illusive Man. How she felt like a stranger to herself.

"I'm so tired, jefa," was all she managed.

Hannah's eyes were bright with tears again, "I know."

They hugged again before Hannah guided her to the nearby couch, and that was when the tears came, thick and hot and uncontrollable, her body shaking with the force of them. Hannah just held her through them, rubbing a circle between her shoulder blades. Shepard cried for the crew she'd lost when the Normandy went down, for the two years she'd lost, for the career she'd once prized, for all the love she still felt for a woman who didn't want anything to do with her, for having to work with the people who'd murdered her friends.

When the tears finally abated she drew back, she rubbed at her splotchy face with a grimace, "Sorry - for your uniform jacket."

Hannah shook her head, "Don't apologize for that."

"You're not upset about the Cerberus thing? Don't think I'm a traitor?" the last came out more bitter than she intended. Just because she knew where Ash was coming from didn't mean it didn't hurt, that it didn't - well, break her heart.

"Who said that?" Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ash - Ashley Williams."

"Ah," Hannah said knowingly, "just as stubborn as you are, that one."

Shepard blinked, "You know her?"

"Yes," Hannah said dryly, "I know the girlfriend you didn't tell me about."

Shepard winced. "I…should've told you."

"I understand why you didn't," a flash of pain crossed her mother's face, "I wouldn't have been understanding back then. But…she loved you a great deal. I could see that."

"Loved," Shepard repeated a little glumly despite herself. She couldn't blame Ash for moving on after two years, but there was some little part of her that was still clinging on to hope despite all reason.

Hannah gave her a squeeze, "Listen to me. She's hurt and angry, but that doesn't mean it's your fault or that she's right. I know my daughter. I know you would only do this for the right reasons. Do what you have to do and then come home."

"Okay." Despite the tears, something in Shepard's chest released.

"Now," Hannah said briskly, "go freshen up and let's go have dinner. Just the two of us."

"I'm a deserter in the eyes of NavComm," she pointed out, "Won't you get in trouble?"

Hannah sniffed. "If it takes having dinner for NavComm to realise I love my daughter, they're rather terrible at their jobs."

Shepard smiled and shook her head, before rising to her feet. "Alright, jefa."

Codex Entry

Systems Alliance Capital Ships:The Systems Alliance Navy currently operates two classes of warship recognised as 'capital ships' - being the most important ships in a navy whose loss could potentially cripple its fighting capabilities - in its dreadnoughts and full-sized carriers. The Alliance currently operates two classes of dreadnought and two classes of carriers.

Dreadnoughts

Everest

The older class of Alliance dreadnought, the Everest is 888 metres long with a main gun length of 800 metres. The Everest was, in its first years, a celebrated symbol of humanity's development on the galactic stage. It was considered a prestigious posting for any sailor or Marine, despite the cramped, badly soundproofed living quarters situated too close to the main gun for comfort. Like all capital ships, the vessel moves sluggishly, though the class has very little to fear due to its sheer size and large armament, not to mention its escorts. With the introduction of the Kilimanjaro class, production of Everest class dreadnoughts halted. They remain in service for now as the Alliance attempts to reach the goal of two dreadnoughts per fleet.

Kilimanjaro

The most recent class of dreadnought, the Kilimanjaro was built with the lessons learnt from the Everest and from other Citadel governments in mind and is somewhat larger. That said, it isn't too much more comfortable for the crew, with 156 broadside cannons-each 40% of the ship's width, taking up entire sections of the vessel-in addition to the main gun making quarters cramped, particularly once the fighter and other spacecraft carried by the ship are factored in. Still, the improved sound-proofing was greatly appreciated by the crew. The pinnacle of Alliance engineering thus far, the Kilimanjaro is a formidable weapon.

Carriers

Carriers are ships that carry and deploy fighters, interceptors and mechs as their main armament. They may also carry ground forces and other support for the rest of their fleet. Carriers are vulnerable against other ships and are rarely seen without an escort.

Einstein

Build on a similar hull to the Everest class, the Einstein class was the Alliance's first foray into an uniquely human concept. The Einstein class can carry two air wings of fighters or interceptors. While fighters are not the ship-killers they were for blue water navies, they found some use, albeit with heavy casualties in the first few battles the Alliance took part in. The Einstein class is currently being phased out in favour of the more modern Zheng He class.

Zheng He

The Zheng He is the second generation Alliance carrier, with the lead ship commissioned in 2172. The Zheng He is close to a kilometre long, with a crew of five thousand, not including embarked Marine units. The Zheng He has a dual purpose-firstly carrying and deploying large amounts of fighters and mechs to harass enemy ships and screen friendlies, and secondly as part of the Alliance's planetary assault doctrine, dropping large units of Marines and their equipment onto planets, before sitting in orbit as a control and command centre. In this role the Zheng He was heavily involved in such Marine campaigns as the Theshaca Raids and Torfan.