Cortez tried to pretend that the handcuffs didn't bother him, but they did, even if he knew the prudence behind them. Everyone worried about the Indoctrinated slipping in and gumming up the plan.

On the terminal before him, Shepard's figure materialized. "Hey, Cortez," she breathed, looking relieved.

"Captain. Glad to see you made it."

"You too. It's alright," Shepard addressed the soldiers with him. "This is my missing pilot. Thanks for finding him." She and Cortez pretended not to notice the taking off of his handcuffs. "I'm glad you're alright. I've come too far to lose my pilot now," she grinned.

That was the thing about Shepard. No matter how bad it got, she always found ways to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Cortez smiled back, reassured, bolstered, by her realistic optimism. "I've got your juju," he said, holding up the crystal. "Get it back to you when I can."

"I'd appreciate it. In the meantime, use it."

Now that it was over, Cortez could feel embarrassment at going down at all creeping up on him. "Not one of my finer moments. If I'd been in my Trident, none of this would have happened…my apologies."

"Accepted, and don't worry about it. If you'd been in your Trident, someone else would have been getting us to the ground. I don't think they'd have been as successful as you were." It was nice of her to say so. "What matters is we took that cannon down. And damn, was it ugly in person."

That was saying something, since she had face-to-face experience with most kinds of Reaper. "Yikes."

"Any idea what you'll do now?"

Cortez shrugged. "I'll find something. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, Cortez," Shepard assured him.

"Captain?"

"Yeah?"

"…thanks. For making me believe again. If you hadn't…" his throat began to feel achy and tense. He wasn't finished grieving, but he'd moved so far from where he'd been when they met. "It helps having a reason to live again."

"Stay sharp, Cortez. We're gonna be okay," she assured him.

"Yeah," he nodded, swallowing hard.

Shepard severed the connection.

Cortez exhaled sharply, letting go of the momentary distress.

"Did I hear you say you were a pilot?" one of the Alliance servicemen asked.

"Yeah," Cortez answered.

The serviceman shifted from foot to foot. "…how'd you like to try something unconventional?"

Well, it worked for Shepard.

-J-

Cortez regarded the bug-like geth fighter. It looked damaged, too damaged for space-travel. "Uh, hello?" he asked, sticking his head into the cockpit. "Someone ask for a pilot?"

The ship lit up, going from a dead husk to a living entity. "Please give me your name."

Cortez glanced back to see his own apprehension mirrored on the scouting party's face. "Cortez, Steve," he answered.

"Welcome, Cortez, Steve," the geth responded. "Yes, I requested a pilot. Please enter the cockpit and assume the pilot's chair."

Cortez obeyed, winching when the seat adjusted to put him at a comfortable level with the instruments. "Uh…this may be obvious to you but why do you need a pilot?"

"This platform is meant to support internal and external geth units. I am the internal unit. My external partner is…nonfunctional. This vessel is no longer spaceworthy, but will operate satisfactorily in low atmosphere. I am also curious as to whether the Moreau-EDI dynamic could be recreated on a smaller scale. Also, it is believed that organics present a variable of unpredictability which is not represented with geth. I would like to test these theories. I would like to be useful."

Cortez chewed this over. It wasn't what he expected. "And you think I can help fly…you?"

The geth was silent for a moment. "I think it would be better than waiting. This platform is vulnerable on the ground. There are no mobile platforms to transfer my intelligence to. I would…prefer to reduce my level of ineffectuality."

Which sounded, to Steve, like the geth was afraid to be grounded. He could understand that. "Okay…so how does this work?"

"This unit will handle flight operations and will translate necessary feeds for your convenience. I suppose, technically, I do not require a partner who is a pilot."

"…but it would give you more confidence if your partner knows what he's doing. At least with someone's ships," Cortez finished, half grinning. "You know, it's a choice between piloting a wasp and doing the ground-pounder thing. How do we get you up and running?"

The ship shuddered, then lurched. "Please engage safety harness prior to takeoff."

Cortez obeyed, feeds beginning to light up. Was it possible for a geth to feel excited? He knew EDI clearly felt things, but he'd never wondered how the geth were coming along with that. "What do I call you?" he asked, strapping in and finding that he could rearrange the feeds into an order that was more natural for him.

"…call me…Hornet."

Cortez grinned at the feeds, then realized one tiny window contained a face. "Is that you, Hornet?" he pointed at the window.

The figure nodded. "It is how I choose to present myself. Shall I alter the image? Is it distracting?"

"No, no, it's just nice to have a face to put with the name," Cortez answered hastily.

"Thank you," Hornet answered. "I have checked all systems. This vessel's integrity will support combat in low atmosphere. Please turn the vehicle to the left."

Cortes found the controls and shifted the ship.

"Right."

Cortez obeyed, resting his hands on the interface. It was different from how Alliance ships worked, but being built for geth, especially a pair of geth working in tandem, he supposed he should be surprised the controls weren't more incomprehensible.

"Raise altitude."

He did so.

"Lower altitude."

Again, he did so.

"Excellent. You may communicate with me verbally or via the controls. I look forward to this exchange."

"Me too," Cortez answered. "Can we take a quick jaunt, get used to each other before we try this in a fight?"

"That is advisable."