Their feet echoed hollowly in the landing chamber. Its walls were bare rock, nearly black and glistening in the limited light from the lights bordering the pathway leading deeper inside. Varric steadied himself against Ship — a name that would likely end up sticking — as he let himself get used to the new sense of gravity. Compared to being on board, the atmosphere in the mine lay heavy in his lungs. As he stood there, moving his knees back and forth to help his body adjust, he wondered how much of the asteroid was still operational. The Colony abandoned it many years ago, yet it seemed that they maintained its critical systems. He supposed that was one thing working in their favor, at least.

"Alright?"

Hawke descended from the vessel, her boots making puffs of dust that quickly settled. Her stance was casual, her expression curious as she took in their surroundings. Neither suggested she had just escaped a close encounter with the Chantry, transported them through another dimension across a great distance, or that they were now standing on forbidden ground. Varric smiled to himself and tried to breathe more deeply. Being nervous hardly ever helped a situation.

"Alright," he answered. "How's the gravity?"

"Weird," she murmured, testing the physics with a small, sluggish hop, "but I'll get used to it. Hope we don't need to do a lot of running."

"It's not in the planning, at least."

"Cool. Do you know where to go?"

A path stretched out before them, strips of light framing it on both sides that curved out of sight beyond the rockface. Varric lifted his artificial arm, opened the control panel, and pressed a sequence of buttons. His intel scrolled along in blocky pixels across the crude display embedded above his wrist. B had offered to upgrade his hardware on numerous occasions but, so far, he had refused. It was fine as it was, more reliable than some of the newer tech around. He dismissed the thought of her before it could take any further hold and looked up to find Hawke observing him, head angled inquisitively.

"We go to the hub," he quickly answered, "All entrances lead to the Core. It should be the best place to start looking."

"Looking for what?"

"Information. Hard drives, documents, maps — that sort of thing."

"Information?"

"I told you," he smirked, "It's the most valuable commodity I deal in. Dweomer are a secretive bunch and do whatever they can to keep it that way. They abandoned this mine in a hurry, according to my source. I have it on reasonable authority that they left things behind. Come on."

He took a few steps onto the path, but she didn't follow. "Whose authority?" she asked calmly.

There was no force behind the question, but her intention was clear nonetheless. Self-assured but slow to trust, he reminded himself. He wondered whether she would come without reservations if he were the source, rather than having second-hand information. He reluctantly closed the display on his arm, reached into his jacket, and pulled out one of the files that had been on the living room table for the past weeks.

He held it out to her, and she stepped in closer. It was an official-looking document, with a crest at the top and a seal near the bottom. He didn't expect the Chantry to teach official Colony language, and he wasn't proven wrong, for she glanced back up at him, brow raised in expectation of more explanation.

"Colony records. The asteroid was deemed unsafe for further operations with strict orders for the mine to remain closed," he clarified, pointing out the sentences he was translating as he talked. "I can't be sure no one else tried to do what we're about to, but these records identifying the place are not easy to get. And it's unlikely anyone happened upon this rock by accident."

"If they're so adamant about keeping it closed, don't you think maybe there's a reason?"

Varric smirked at her. "Are you afraid, Hawke?"

"Self-preservation should not be confused with fear," Hawke shrugged. "Just wondering about the reliability of your 'reasonable' authority."

"Wise words," Varric nodded, "I'll admit, he's not someone I'd ask to watch over my ship, but he's not usually wrong about this sort of thing. Besides…" He scratched the back of his head. "You and I are in a similar boat, I guess. There is a personal factor in this."

Hawke waited for him to elaborate. Varric looked to the entrance again, frowning as his eyes rested on the glowing lights curving along the quiet cave. He sighed and flipped to another sheet of paper. It carried the same crest as the previous one, though it was much older. It held a list of names, written both in Colony script and the common language.

"Dweomer like their paper, huh?" Hawke quipped.

"Security reasons," V explained, "Can't hack a physical record. Bit overkill with all their tech stored inside layers of rock, but paranoia is what the Colony uses to season their food."

"Is that why you still print everything?"

"No," he laughed, "Though I have more reason to keep my files offline than some of them. I just prefer it over reading from a screen."

Hawke huffed a chuckle and scanned the document. Halfway down the list, she paused and looked back up at him. "Andvar and Ilsa Tethras?"

He nodded. "My dear old dad was the overseer here, once upon a time. Rather a prestigious position, from what I understand. He disgraced himself, and the Colony cast him out. After that, they blacklisted the entire family."

"So, you want to find out what happened?"

Varric shook his head. "We know what happened. He falsified records to inflate his numbers and got caught. Performance is everything within the Colony, but they don't stand for that. My brother Bartrand is primarily interested in getting our status restored — he has been at it for most of his life. Can't say I care too much myself — I wasn't born inside the Colony like he was. Call me crazy, but living inside a rock on the edge of nowhere is not something I ever felt I missed out on."

"I'm with you on that one," Hawke agreed, "but… why are we here then, exactly?"

"Bartrand wants to find something that would give him leverage, to negotiate his way back into the Colony," Varric explained, "He's got contacts, some of whom helped him get his hands on these documents. We are here for whatever information left behind that's worth selling on."

"And why isn't your brother doing this himself? It seems like his motivations are stronger than yours."

"Heh," Varric chuckled humorlessly, "He would have, had he gotten his hands on a Catalyst. Whether he'd been successful is another question. We each have our skills — subterfuge isn't one of his. You can hardly reach this place unnoticed with the kind of barge he hails from. Besides…" He paused and habitually spun the ring on his finger. "I would like to see the place my folks used to live."

Hawke observed him a while longer, perhaps wondering if she wanted to press him for more details but thinking the better of it. "You can give me a tour when we find it," she said casually, straightening herself up. "Let's get this over with. We were lucky to get here. Save for that Cruiser it's been pretty quiet. I'd like to leave before any storms hit."

Varric agreed and began to walk the path once more as he stuffed the files back into his pocket. Hawke joined him this time, hand resting on the gun in her belt as she continued to survey their surroundings. The lines of light guiding them in starkly illuminated her silhouette, lighting her eyes to an icy blue and rendering her fair skin near translucent.

"So..." Her voice was light and hollow within the empty echo of the stone. "Information. Files and documents. I've got to say, I know I shouldn't be surprised, but I was expecting something a little more exciting."

"Exciting how?"

"I don't know. Chests filled with gold? Cursed statues? Gemstones the size of your fist? Maybe some sacrificial weaponry used in the dark arts?"

"My dear Hawke, I do believe you were born in the wrong Age," Varric laughed. "I did not consider you a romantic, yearning for adventure of yore."

"You've got to admit that it would be a lot more interesting."

"Our time is interesting," he chuckled, "Just in a different way."

"Maybe beyond the Belt," Hawke shrugged, "Where we don't know what to find. In this sector? Everything is mapped out… and it's mostly shit."

"That's that Chantry education speaking, my friend," Varric retorted, "They do like to pretend they have all the answers. I've been around the sector a few times, and there is plenty of adventure to be had." He flashed her an apologetic grin. "Just less of the tomb raiding, swashbuckling kind. Remind me to introduce you to someone when we get back, though. I think you'd get along famously, wishing for something that no longer exists."

Hawke hummed in agreement as she continued to walk alongside him. Varric noticed himself focusing on her — the movement of her shoulders, her hand loosely but securely laying atop her weapon, the quiet sound of her feet on the rocky surface. It was better than focusing on his surroundings, which were so eerily similar to the simulation he played for his mother. The video was an approximation, a generic visual not based on any particular Dweomer settlement. This place was the real deal, and it was even more uncomfortable to be inside of it than he had imagined it to be.

The hallway seemed to go on forever, leading them deeper and deeper inside. It would open up to cavernous rooms, natural hollows in the rock's formation, then close back down around them like a stone fist. Varric felt his chest contract whenever it did, like it would whenever he'd sat next to his mother and explained, again, why they couldn't go back. Teary eyes, heavy with liquor, would beg him to take her to the place she insisted was home — one he'd never known. This place that had cast them out and would never take them back, yet go back was all she wanted. He wasn't prone to hate — not easily or even at all — but he had grown to dislike that place he'd never even set foot in more and more with each passing year.

No, rather than thinking about that, it was easier to focus on the woman accompanying him into his distant past. She glanced up as they entered another clearing, assessing the twinkling ceiling and the pipes running over it. Her eyes followed them across the room towards an elevator shaft, then landed on a couple of mining carts. She halted, squinting as if trying to identify someone in the distance. Varric recognized the look from when she'd been in the pilot's seat for too long or when minor anomalies showed up on the sensors.

He snapped his fingers, making her blink. "Hawke?"

She refocused on him, a little affronted. "I didn't go anywhere."

"Just making sure."

"There's something in there." She jerked her head to the carts. "It feels… odd. Raw lyrium, I think."

"Very possible," Varric nodded, "Not what we're here for, though."

"Are you sure?" She glanced at the carts again. "It's valuable."

"Perhaps, if you have a buyer for it. I'm not touching that trade with a finger, not with both the Chantry and the Colony involved."

"Stealing the Colony's secrets is less risky?"

"To distribute without being tracked down? Oh, yes. Come along now."

Varric continued to walk with more determination, and Hawke swiftly followed behind. "You said they left the place in a hurry?" she said conversationally, the topic of lyrium quite forgotten again.

"Yes. The records show the mine became unstable during the last Cataclysm, and they shut it down."

"The Cataclysm?"

"Rips in the Veil? Fade spawn coming through, wreaking havoc?"

"I know what a Cataclysm is," Hawke scoffed, "The Chantry hammered that into us as if we were about to go berserk and cause one. It's just —"

They rounded the last bend and, at last, saw their destination. As Varric stepped out of the corridor, he was greeted with a sight he knew well, despite never having seen it before. A massive cavern, hewn straight from the stone, stretched into nothingness above and below them. Bridges spanned the expanse at various heights, crisscrossing to connect the different areas of the asteroid. In the center, supported by metal scaffolding, a circular observatory hung suspended within the hall, perched like a spider above its web, watchful of any out-of-place activity.

Hawke walked to the edge of the walkway and looked down into the depths. "This place didn't seem so big from the outside."

"Deceptive, huh?" He followed her example but quickly took a step back. He'd never liked heights — another reason he was happy not to grow up here. How Bartrand could long for it so much, he would never understand.

"Isn't it odd the whole thing is still operational?" Hawke continued, scanning the walkways above their heads, highlighted by the same light strips as the ones they had followed to get here. "Climate control, artificial gravity… If the Veil was torn open, how is it still intact?"

"I imagine the Colony plans to preserve it as well as possible so they can reclaim it at some point," Varric explained, "This settlement already had to deal with instabilities in the Veil, given how thin it is in the Belt. They doubled down on security and evacuated the workers when things became too unsafe, but it must not have been at complete risk of collapse."

"I suppose so…" Hawke murmured. "Would expect more security in that case, though. I learned that places hit by a Cataclysm stay unstable for decades, hundreds of years even. This place seems fine — no disturbances at all."

"… Let's continue, shall we?" Varric suggested, and he nodded towards the observatory. "Up there, I think, to start."

She nodded, but her expression did not light up. While she'd seemed fairly relaxed so far, her tension was tangible as they navigated their way up. Perhaps the crafted structures, more so than the natural cave they'd passed through, were more troubling to her in their abandoned state. Varric didn't want to ask. It was odd, something that required an explanation, but he had little space for a mystery right now. Hawke's uneasiness only added to his own, making him even less eager to be here than he had been so far and more so to get their errand over with quickly.

They'd both gone silent by the time they reached the observatory, as if the vast emptiness around them swallowed up any sound they produced. It was suffocating, pressing down on him even more than the odd sense of gravity. He'd grown used to human colonies and their planets — why 'his' people didn't make it a little easier to walk around, he wasn't sure, but somehow it didn't seem out of character for them.

The observatory was unlocked, and it didn't take much effort to start up its systems. Camera feeds popped on across the numerous displays spread out across the dashboard — fully operational, if a little low in resolution for current standards. Varric focused on the main display, searching the database for the location of the mine's archive. The servers would be stored there, as well as anything too sensitive to be kept digitally. He found it without issue, and his prosthetic easily interfaced with the console. As he waited for the data to download, he wondered at the system's lack of authentication or security. Like their uneventful walk into the empty, perfectly preserved mine, the lack of resistance felt… off. It wasn't a military base, sure, and the Colony probably never imagined someone to find it, this one rock out of the millions swirling around in the Belt. But still —

"What is that room?"

Hawke nodded at one of the displays. The point of view was high up, but the camera was tilted to show more of the floor than the room itself. Some piece of furniture was visible on the edge of the screen, as well as some unidentifiable objects on the ground.

"Medicine…" Varric translated, reading the overlay text, "Medic… Oh, it's the infirmary. I guess that's a bed."

"What's that on top of it?"

"On top of it?"

Varric examined the picture closer. There was a shape, but it was impossible to determine what it was with the low quality of the image and the odd angle. "I don't know," he admitted, "A blanket or something?"

"It doesn't look like a person to you? Someone's legs?"

"A person?" He looked again at the blurry set of pixels. "No, I wouldn't think so. But if it is, a poor sod left behind at the time of evacuation shouldn't give us any trouble now."

Hawke continued to squint at the image as if trying to will the angle to change or quality to improve.

"I found where we need to go. That exit over there," Varric informed her, pointing out their next destination below. "We'll go by the Overseer's Quarters, then continue to the archive." He quietly thanked the Maker for both being in the same direction.

Hawke lingered by the displays a moment longer, scanning the rest with mistrustful eyes, then followed him out. "Could you see when they evacuated?" she asked as she caught up with him. "The date?"

"I didn't try to look. There's a ton of information. We just need to grab the files, I'll sift through them later."

"But if someone is in there, they might need help."

"Hawke," he sighed, "It's been more than twenty years since the Cataclysm. Anyone left behind in there is long gone."

"You can't know that for sure. Maybe it's a survivor. Everything is functional here, and they'd have access to food reserves. What if they're waiting for someone to rescue them?" She jogged ahead, her feet kicking up the heavy dust, and stopped in front of him to block his way. "We've got to check."

Once again, she wasn't forceful per se, but she also did not leave any room for misinterpretation — she wasn't going to leave here without checking up on a blurry pair of legs on a security feed. Varric quietly admitted that he wouldn't want to either, not if he were in any other location that gave him less anxiety. So he nodded and opened up his display to check the site of the infirmary. It was in another section but not too far from where they had to be. "We'll check on the way back, alright? Let's get what we came for first."

Hawke nodded appreciatively, and a relieved smile spread across her face.

"Thanks, Varric."

He lingered as she turned around and walked ahead of him with a new lightness in her step. It would have happened sooner or later, he'd imagined, but he didn't expect it to be now. His name sounded nice, rolling off her tongue in that proper, non-accent with which she spoke. The surprise of it didn't make where they were any better, but, in the very least, he was glad to be there with her.