Recovery efforts were underway, and had progressed enough now that even the most hawkish warrior couldn't pretend that the fighting would continue.

"Raagh!" grunted Field Marshal Wolanski. The old warhorse was apparently on the surface today, to work with his troops. A Governance photographer hovered unobtrusively in the background as Wolanski's vast arms lifted a supply crate up and over his shoulder. "Come, mysha, there is much work to do."

Ryouko blinked at him as she lifted her own crate. The Optimax 4x4 standard emergency response crate carried a good four hundred kilograms of equipment and supplies, wrapped in a one hundred kilogram hardened case that could fall from an altitude of five thousand meters in standard Earth gravity and largely survive. Five hundred kilograms was easy for a magical girl. For a human, even one with military implants…

"Hah, you are surprised, yes?" Wolanski grunted. He stepped forward and began walking towards the dropoff point. "In Ukraine, we had special implants for fighting Russian scum that we put to good use moving supplies."

"Didn't you have any drones?" Ryouko asked. The ones on the colony had been blown up, and the local manufacturing capacity wasn't quite up to the task of replacing every single thing overnight.

"Drones?" Wolanski laughed. "No, no, not when you are shelled day and night by heavy artillery. Drones are too slow, they are blown up by anti-air missiles. Instead we used high speed transports which dropped crates nearby. When the shelling quieted, we went and pulled them in by hand."

"Isn't— isn't that dangerous?"

"Much must be risked in war," said Wolanski. "It is what it is. Come, we have arrived."

With another grunt of exertion, Wolanski set his crate down on top of a pile that had formed next to the distribution center the military had set up. Ryouko walked over to set hers down as well, the metal clanging as she set it down on the edge. She made a small noise of exertion as she pushed it into its place on the top of the pile.

"Good, good, and now another," said Wolanski, stretching his back and making it pop. "It is good for the body to exert oneself, yes?"

Ryouko blinked at him. "Er, sure?"

"Field Marshal sah!"

A lieutenant came running up and snapped into a sharp salute. He was out of armor and dressed in standard navy work clothes. A sigil on the nomenclator identified him as a member of the local command staff.

"At ease Lieutenant," said Wolanski. "You have a message?"

"Sah, yes sah!" the lieutenant said. Ryouko checked the nomenclator to identify his accent. Apparently it was from some colony near Nova Terra. "Sah, we have a contingent o' Turians approaching the main fortifications! They are requesting permission to assist with the reconstruction effort, sah!"

The Field Marshal's brow tightened and his expression turned dark.

"Understood, Lieutenant," he said. "Hold them at the entrance. I will see to this personally."

"Sah, understood sah!"

"I am sorry, mysha, but I must go," Wolanski said, turning to pat Ryouko on the shoulder. "Carry some more crates, yes? It is good to help a little, if you can."

"Um, I can take you, actually," said Ryouko, fidgeting slightly. Hauling crates around was not her idea of a good time. "I can teleport us?"

Wolanski grunted. "Indeed. Then let us do so. Come mysha, let us go to the main entrance."

Ryouko nodded, transforming in a flash of green. An image appeared on her implants of the entryway to the fortifications that now surrounded the IIC node.

"Hold on," she said to the Field Marshal, extending a hand.

"I am ready," said Field Marshal Wolanski, having smoothed out his uniform and squared his expression. He took Ryouko by the hand.

"Teleport in three, two, one, mark."

They reappeared in a flash of green in front of the very surprised Turian infantry column. They were in two-by-two, standard marching order, though out of armor and wearing work clothes.

"Atten-SHUN!"

There was no need for translators. Everyone there recognized a ranking officer when they saw one.

"At ease," Field Marshal Wolanski rumbled into the air. The sound was like the slow cracking of a glacier as it ground its way down the mountainside. "Report."

"Sir!" barked the column's commander. "I am Captain Silvanus Dellius. As a gesture of good faith, Legate Septimus of the Fourth Fleet has given me and these volunteers leave to assist you in the reconstruction effort. If there is anything we can do to help, we are at your disposal, sir!"

Ryouko examined the column of soldiers. They fidgeted, uncomfortable out of their armor and under the gaze of the defense turrets mounted along the earthworks. Farther down, she could see Adrea and Eunoe, standing at parade rest, eyes focused ahead.

"Someone you know?" Wolanski said to her.

"What?" Ryouko asked, flinching slightly. "Er, I mean, yes, I recognize a few."

"Their names?"

"Uh, Adrea and E-Eunoe? Turians I met during a prisoner visit earlier."

"Captain!" the Field Marshal immediately barked. Captain Dellius snapped to attention. "It is brought to my attention that you have two soldiers named Adrea and Eunoe under your command. Is this correct?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Very good. You and your troops will assist the work crews in whatever way deemed necessary. Sergeant Andrews!"

"Sir!" one of the soldiers behind the earthworks shouted from within her armor.

"You will assist Captain Dellius in divvying out tasks to his command. Coordinate with Lieutenants Childers and Shang at grid reference 49-D. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"In light of the fact that Ryouko is familiar with two of your troops, they will be assigned to her to assist her in her own work," said Field Marshal Wolanski. "It will help, I think, with the unstated objectives, yes? Is this acceptable to you, Captain?"

"Yes sir!"

"Dismissed."

Field Marshal Yuriy Mykhailo Wolanski turned on his heel and marched back into the base, but not before taking a moment to clap a hand on Ryouko's shoulder. The crunch of his boots against the ground was quickly drowned out by the shuffling of feet as Sergeant Andrews began shouting out orders.

Ryouko looked around at the group of Turians, which still stood in an orderly grid even as groups broke off gradually for their new assignments. She had to admire in an odd way both the discipline of the alien soldiers—though they had stopped standing at attention and started chatting with each other—and Sergeant Andrew's willingness to yell loud orders for what certainly felt like a full half hour. Like everyone else, she'd seen the old war movies with yelling sergeants and all that, but she was pretty sure that outside of boot camp all orders were implant-based and, well, the Turians didn't have those.

I'm surprised to see you're still around, she thought, deciding she might as well talk with Adrea while she was here. Eunoe was the one she really wanted to talk to but, well, that would have required her to actually walk over and break the formation. Didn't the Phoenix Foundation go public? I'd have thought you'd be off doing something for them.

I'm still a soldier, so my duty is here, Adrea thought back, transmitting a shrug. Being a magical girl doesn't change that.

Oh, said Ryouko. She paused, thinking that over. That makes sense, I guess. What are you and Eunoe doing here?

It was Eunoe's idea, Adrea replied. Something about how, if we're going to talk about making the world a better place and bringing prosperity back and all of that, we should put action behind words. It was a bit garbled. Not sure why I let you young ones lead me around when you can't even speak coherently.

Young ones? Ryouko thought. How old are you anyway?

I'd rather not share. Anyway, it seems we've received our assignment. They want us to help clear the rubble from one of your settlements and look for survivors.

Ryouko had forgotten to pay attention, eyes focused on nothing in particular as they had chatted, and only noticed on Adrea's cue that the group of Turians around Adrea and Eunoe had broken off from the main group and were headed out.

She jumped off the stage with careless athleticism she was long past noticing, but which seemed to catch the Turians' eyes.

"I might as well go with you," she said, jogging up to the group of Turians. "I've got nothing better to do, anyway."

Since the end of active combat, the local magical girls had been released back into the civilian world. For some of them, that meant it was time to attend to their families or travel, but for most of them it was time of unease. They didn't want to just leave, but it would be a while yet before the colony returned to normal and they could go back to what they were doing, if, indeed, normalcy was ever going to return.

Ryouko, for her part, had been putting off as best as she could her parents' insistence that she return home for at least a while. She didn't want to know what Asami's parents were saying to her, considering they hadn't even known about the magical girl thing.

"You think you can help?" one of the Turians asked, giving her a look that wasn't quite skepticism, but also wasn't quite confidence.

"You've seen them in combat, Valen," another Turian said. "She'll be fine."

"I personally have not seen them in combat, and it's not about that," the other Turian growled.

"She's seen more than you think," Eunoe said, looking around at the others. "Let's not turn down help when we have it."

With that comment, the group headed off, making their way towards where an officer was directing them. It was only when they cleared the area that they spotted the vehicles waiting to take them to their work. They were the typical human half-antigrav multipurpose long-bed trucks that were used to haul things and people around at a dependable, if somewhat sluggish, pace. In fairness, it wasn't that long of a drive to the emergency site, but Ryouko still couldn't help but sigh in anticipation of the tedium.

"You know, Ryouko," said Adrea, glancing over at her with a knowing expression, "why don't you just teleport some of us instead? It would be a lot faster."

The comment caused a stir in the Turians, even as Ryouko blinked at Adrea, then turned her head away bashfully.

"I guess so," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. In her mind, Ryouko protested that anyone buried in the rubble would have been there for days at this point, and, especially with fugue, it was doubtful that saving even half an hour would matter much.

But the Turians didn't know that, of course, and she knew that the real reason she was being reluctant was that she was embarrassed about showing off her powers to the Turians.

"Alright," she said, "but I wouldn't want to carry more than maybe six of you. I have limitations."

She nodded in the direction of the officer directing the operation, who was looking at them curiously. She sent him a message explaining the situation.

"I need all of us to be in physical contact," she said, grabbing onto Eunoe's upper arm. "Each of you grab hold of something."

Adrea immediately grabbed Eunoe's other arm, and a few other Turians, after some hesitation and looking around, grabbed various parts of Adrea and Eunoe, avoiding touching Ryouko.

Ryouko took a breath.

The Turians behaved with remarkable discipline, shrugging off the ordinarily disorienting first experience of a teleport to fan out across and around the rubble. A small flotilla of drones had preceded them, conducting some preliminary scans of the collapsed buildings for life signs and civilian transponders. A good number of them had already been found, reporting either individuals in relatively good condition, some who needed rescue as soon as possible, and a few who… would not need rescuing.

"The transponder system is not foolproof," Ryouko found herself announcing to the alien personnel, who were peering intently at displays emitted from their omnitools. "In situations like these they often malfunction due to damage, or are sealed in by too much metal to be noticed."

They had jury-rigged a communications connection between the Governance networks and Turian omnitools, but it still left a lot to be desired.

"Still, it's a start," someone commented. "It gives us something to focus on. It's a very efficient system for emergencies."

The tone of that comment was some combination of admiring and worried, unless Ryouko missed her guess. The Turians were still on some level rather bothered by the amount of integrated technology Humans had.

"This doesn't make any sense," Eunoe said, even as the others got to work stabilizing regions that were at risk of immediate collapse, or digging for the most superficial victims, following the estimates of structural risk provided by their omnitools. "There's no reason Turian artillery would devastate civilian buildings like this. This wasn't even an important combat zone."

"Mistakes happen," a male Turian commented gruffly. "We must atone."

Ryouko took a breath, allowing her implants to point her in the direction of a cavity in the ruins where a couple of civilian transponders had localized, one of a few where she might have enough space to teleport in.

She found herself nearly sideways among a group of three civilians, unconscious and lying on the floor in an energy-saving fugue state, visible only with a magical girl's natural night vision. Two men and a child—she was glad her experiences in combat had made her less squeamish about blood and injury, since it didn't take medical training for her to conclude that at least two limbs on the child were a loss. But still, they had gotten lucky—the air pocket Ryouko was crammed into had certainly prevented anything worse, and even given them a bit of oxygen to work with.

She ran a check on whether moving the civilians would collapse anything—both her intuition and a newly installed physics engine guessed no—before appearing back in her original location, eyes adapting instantly back to the bright light.

Looking down at the people on the ground, and the two adults who were already waking back up, she couldn't help but smile a little. They would be alright.

Then she got back to work.

"Something is definitely up with these readings," the male Turian working near Eunoe said.

"What do we do?" another worker asked.

Eunoe had been tuning out the chatter around her, focusing on moving rubble aside with the grim single-minded determination she felt was appropriate to the situation. She had always enjoyed combat, but after the experiences of the past week, this—this felt more real to her, more worthy of the Turian cause.

Something about the way the other Turians were speaking caused her to pause, however, and look up from the rubble, searching for the source.

She found the gruff Turian from earlier peering unhappily at the holographic display of his omnitool, another Turian standing behind him mirroring his expression. Whatever it was, it meant something was wrong.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping gingerly over and around pieces of rubble.

"Do you see this?" the other Turian asked, showing her the display. "I brought an advanced scanner just in case—you never know what kind of surprises you might find in a situation like this—and there's way too much mass effect activity going on at the bottom of this cluster of buildings. The aliens aren't supposed to have mass effect technology, and this wasn't one of their labs, so—"

"It has to be a piece of Turian technology," the other Turian said, finishing the thought. "But what could anything possibly be doing buried deep in alien rubble?"

Eunoe looked between the other two Turians, realizing that neither of them were front-line soldiers—they clearly didn't have the build or demeanor, and they were failing to reach the obvious conclusion.

"It's a munition," Eunoe said, leaning over to peer at the other Turian's omnitool. "Left over from the bombardment, but very few of our bombs use eezo. It's too expen—"

She stopped mid-sentence, reaching forward to spin the 3D display frantically. Oh no.

"Too expensive?" the male Turian finished for her. "Well, if it's not very common, then—"

"It's a bunker-buster," Eunoe said, voice filling with dread. "Mass effect-powered, probably Type 86, if you look at these readings. Someone in Command really wanted something busted open. But apparently, it didn't fully detonate. Which is odd, since those bombs are designed to be robust…"

"And we missed," the male Turian said, sounding horrified despite his low voice. Definitely a scientist of some kind. "It still took out all these buildings."

"Despite failing to fully detonate, yes," Eunoe finished, feeling a familiar sense of focus settle over her. "Not exactly the Turian Hierarchy's finest hour, but it's worse than that. The fact that so much eezo is still down there means it might still be live. It could go off any second. You can guess what that would do to us, and to the civilians."

"What do we do?" the male Turian asked. "We can't just leave, there's people down there!"

"Can you imagine what that would do to our reputation?" the other one asked.

"I hadn't even thought of that," the other said, wringing his hands. "Maybe we should just keep digging, and not mention we saw this. Maybe it's not live, and we can extract the civilians, then forget any of this ever happened."

Eunoe resisted the urge to slap the Turian. The reaction was panicked, and dumb. There were only two valid options: leave now, or send someone to look at the bomb.

Unfortunately, she knew someone with military training, whose parents were munitions researchers, and who had trained specifically on bomb disposal, a long time ago. That someone was named Eunoe Aurelian.

"That's a terrible idea," she said. "I have bomb training—" some, and only if nobody asks too many questions "—so I can take a look, maybe even defuse it if necessary. I'm willing to take the risk. I just have to get down there."

"If you say so," one of the other Turians muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "Who knows, with a little luck, the humans will never have to know—"

She wasn't sure what specifically it was, but something about that line pissed her off.

"And how the hell am I supposed to get down there without their help, genius?" Eunoe hissed. The scientist flinched backwards. "I don't see any Turian magicians around here, do you? We have a human right there who can help, and I'm not going to hide something as dumb as this just so the Hierarchy can kiss its own ass."

With that, she turned towards a nearby blob of green, just barely stopping herself from storming away and making more of a scene. She had to keep calm and keep stable, if she did end up having to defuse a bomb. She was glad Adrea wasn't around to see her—she had been called off to a separate section of the ruins where more than mundane assistance had been required.

"Eunoe," Ryouko said, nodding at Eunoe from her perch atop a piece of rubble as the Turian walked up.

"Ryouko," said Eunoe. "We have a situation."

Ryouko raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"We uh, found a bomb," said Eunoe, shifting a little awkwardly. "A bunker buster, about, erm, I think it'd be about nine hundred kilograms, in your units. We're not sure what state it's in, but initial scans show that at the very least its warhead is still active."

Ryouko's other eyebrow had crept up as Eunoe was talking. She now looked extremely alarmed.

"I uh, I see. I think I'm supposed to kick this back up the command chain."

"Well, shit."

Major Ellis McDonald was one of the rare colonial boys in the Human military. Nobody was really sure exactly why everyone seemed to come from Earth, but whatever the cause it was inevitable that Ellis wasn't your typical soldier. More importantly, it gave him a unique perspective when it came to "standard operating procedure". While some treated it as if it was a book of rules, Ellis was of the opinion that SOP was really just a set of… guidelines. An outline of what ought to occur was not, strictly speaking, obligatory.

"So lemme make sure I got this straight," Ellis said, folding his arms. "Y'all got a bomb lying down there in the rubble, with no idea how bad it's damaged, and based on your current readings, its prolly going nowhere good. I got all that right?"

"Yes sir," said Eunoe, tapping briefly at her omnitool. "We really don't want to leave that thing down there for longer than absolutely necessary."

"Now," said Ellis, sliding his thumbs into the belt-loops of his uniform with a sigh. "When you say 'absolutely necessary', do you mean 'after we've gone through due process', or do you mean 'as soon as is physically possible'?"

"Er, well, aren't those the same thing?" asked Eunoe. "I mean, I'd gladly go and take a look myself, but don't you have to—"

"Private, you're about to learn a few things about the human military," said Ellis, slapping Eunoe on the shoulder. "You've just volunteered to go down there and give that bomb a look-see. Now, Miss Shizuki," he turned to Ryouko, who blinked up at him with wide eyes, "you're the mobile unit we got in the area. Under the articles of cooperation signed between Governance and the MSY, you got no obligation to put yourself in a position where 'significant risk of harm to your person' could occur. Any actions and decisions you make from this moment onwards are your own, and I have in no way coerced you into doing them. Is that all clear?"

Ryouko blinked. "Uh… yes sir?"

"Good. Now, Miss Eunoe: as I see it, the fastest and easiest way to deal with this here bomb y'all got is for you, Eunoe, to teleport down there with Miss Shizuki here, give it a scan, and defuse it if at all possible. D'you agree or disagree with my thought here?"

Eunoe nodded slowly. "Well sir, that's certainly true. There's a lot of risk, but I don't think that would go down if we delayed."

"If anything, it'd get worse the longer that bomb sits there, am I right?"

"Yes sir."

"Right then. Miss Shizuki?"

Ryouko nodded as well. "I can teleport her in."

"Good gal. In that case, Eunoe, what kinda support equipment y'all gonna need?"

The good news was, there was plenty of open space around the bomb, which was in a nice hollowed-out cavity inside the rubble that allowed Ryouko and Eunoe to teleport straight in without any preparatory work, though it was too cramped to allow for much of anyone else.

The bad news was why there was an open cavity around the bomb, and what they found there.

"Hey, woah!" Eunoe said bracing herself against what felt like a sudden pull backward, towards the edge of the rubble behind her. It was a pull familiar to her from anti-biotics training, where they had been forced to endure being thrown around a member of one of the cabals. And that one time she'd pissed off an Asari who thought she was getting too chummy with her lover…

Unlike Eunoe, Ryouko didn't even visibly flinch at the mass effect waves pulsing out of the bomb. Instead, she just stood there, tilting her head slightly to the side, as if listening for something.

"Is something the matter?" Eunoe asked.

"There's someone here," Ryouko said, sounding airy, as if distracted. "A child. She's in the rubble nearby. I'm talking with her."

"Spirits," Eunoe said, pushing aside for the moments her thoughts about the bomb, and about Ryouko. "Can we get her out?"

"She's in partial fugue," Ryouko said. "But she'll be fine. I… wouldn't want to move her yet. I wouldn't be able to reach her without also teleporting a large chunk of the wall. Which might collapse all of this around us onto the bomb."

She gestured at the rubble that surrounded them, unnecessarily.

"Is she panicking?" Euno asked, knowing that it was, perhaps, too emotional a question.

"We have implants to deal with that kind of thing, for the short run," Ryouko said. "The partial fugue means she's not even fully conscious. Think of it as a… low power mode, maybe?"

She'd forgotten that humans were like that. Freaky cyborgs? Magicians? On some level, it worried her. It didn't matter. Not right now. A girl needed help: that was all that mattered.

"We wouldn't happen to have something that would let us just teleport her out and leave the bomb to explode?" asked Eunoe, looking around skeptically. "Several, uh, hundred thousand kilograms of rubble above us, for example?"

"We don't have that much rubble," said Ryouko. "And I think there's probably some people in the rubble."

The cold blue glow of the eezo warhead cast stark shadows across Ryouko's face, masking her expression, but Eunoe thought the girl sounded calm. Too calm, like she was trying to hide her real feelings. She knew what that sounded like, from her experiences in combat.

"Well, alright," Eunoe said, more to herself than to Ryouko. "Then I need to hurry up."

She pushed her way forward to the bomb, step by plodding step.

"Alright, let's see what we have here…" she said out loud, more to steady herself than anything else. The bomb itself was a scorched, blasted thing, with several large dents, two large rents in the casing, and a missing tailfin. Judging by the blast pattern, it looked like something explosive had tried to intercept it mid-flight. The shock of the detonation would have been responsible for the tailfin, most likely, but the impact with the buildings in the area would probably have done most of the rest. In fact, judging by the way the casing had been crushed in along one side, it had probably hit some kind of structural pillar.

Eunoe grimaced and raised her other arm, on which had placed the omnitool she had borrowed from the scientist. Its instrumentation was practically blaring at her, so she turned down the sensitivity. She didn't need to know that the bomb was right next to her, thank you very much. She needed some other details.

"This thing is probably about to blow," she said, with little other preamble, allowing worry to show on her face as she raised her omnitool to show Ryouko. "The bomb is armed, but the firing circuit has failed to trigger."

Ryouko made a face. "That's… lucky, I guess?"

"I suppose, but the capacitor is still charged and I don't know how safe the relay actually is," said Eunoe as she turned back to the bomb. "And there's these weird pulses. If the firing circuit just weren't working, I'd expect the bomb to be silent entirely."

As if to accentuate her point, the bomb emitted a low rumble, sending out a pulse that caused Eunoe to stumble slightly. The side of the bomb seemed to crumple, just a little.

"Damn," Eunoe said to herself, continuing her analysis. "The most likely explanation for these pulses is that the damage to the bomb not only damaged the firing circuit, but also caused a short through something that's normally non-conductive but is now breaking down under the high voltage."

"And so the super-capacitor would discharge, slowly, triggering these pulses," Ryouko said, grasping the point almost immediately.

"Yes," Eunoe agreed, frowning down at her instruments.

"Couldn't we just wait for it to discharge fully?" Ryouko said. "Eventually it will just run out of energy."

Eunoe thought for a moment. That was the tempting answer, but…

"The bomb is heavily damaged," she said. "We just saw it crumple under one of the pulses. If whatever is short-circuiting it were to be replaced by, say, metal…"

Ryouko closed her eyes.

"Then the bomb will detonate," she said.

"Yes," Eunoe said.

"Then what do we do?" Ryouko asked. "It could go off at any moment!"

"We have to move quickly, whatever it is we do," Eunoe said. "If we want to try to defuse it, then one way to do it would be to interrupt the circuit, without short-circuiting it ourselves. Or discharge the super-capacitor somewhere else, somehow."

Ryouko blew a breath out between her lips.

"Well, how do the circuits work? If it's just a circuit, I'd guess it has to be strong enough to survive an impact and long-term storage, but no one really cares if it can be used more than once. I'm not really sure that tells us anything, though."

"The internal layout is pretty modular, to improve maintenance," said Eunoe. "The firing mechanism is basically a great big brick of a circuit. A lot of it is made out of non-conductive polymer composites, which tend to shatter if overstressed. I'm amazed we're not more fucked, to be honest…"

"If it's modular, couldn't we just pull out the firing circuit?" asked Ryouko. "I mean, it's not the safest plan, but we don't need anything else, right?"

Eunoe made a displeased expression. "We could, but it's buried pretty deep in there. I'd be worried about jostling it and causing it to fire."

"I could potentially take part of the bomb and teleport it somewhere else," Ryouko said. "In terms of jostling, all I need is brief contact with my magical strings. Otherwise, it won't get a chance to do anything before I'm gone."

The bomb rattled again, pulsing out another wave of gravity that first pushed Eunoe backwards, then, just as she'd caught her balance, pulled her forward again, nearly sending her tumbling into the bomb.

"We'll have to do it in stages," said Eunoe. "Can you connect back to the surface? We'll want schematics, and my omnitool is blocked by the rubble."

Ryouko nodded, expression blanking briefly before she gestured with her head at Eunoe. The Turian's omnitool beeped a moment later, registering the receipt of a set of files.

"Alright, so," Eunoe said, pulling the schematics up and projecting them against the bomb. "Here's what the bomb's internals look like fully assembled with no damage."

"It looks like the collision with the building punched a hole through the penetrator," Ryouko muttered, pushing through the waves of gravity to stare intently at whatever her implants were projecting onto the remains of the bomb. "I can probably start by teleporting out some of the outer shell to expose the electronics. Then we can figure out what to do about the interior."

"I'll send you the details about what parts I think you can safely remove. Removing the shell might even relieve some pressure from these gravity waves. But we don't want any of the electronics to actually shift at all."

Ryouko nodded, then seemed to steady herself slightly as new details arrived. Eunoe still found it unnerving how humans could receive transmissions in their minds, but she was… getting used to it. She could definitely see how it might be convenient, or even life-saving, especially in combat.

Eunoe blinked, and Ryouko was gone, and the bomb looked smaller, with its guts in the open. She blinked again, and Ryouko was back. She had moved quickly, as they had planned.

"Keep an eye and make sure nothing falls on me or the bomb," Eunoe said, kneeling in front of the device. "The last thing we want is something falling on it in this exposed state."

Ryouko huffed a breath and glanced up at the "ceiling". There wasn't much she could realistically do.

The bomb's layout was, in some senses, straightforward. In other senses, it was a horror show. Fundamentally, all the bomb had to do was flip a switch after a certain amount of time had passed following impact. Its basic circuitry was nothing more than a controller board, a relay, and a power module. Dead simple.

Implementing all of this with the appropriate redundancies, safety mechanisms, access for maintenance and diagnostics, and then packing it all into as small an aerodynamic shell as could be managed was… not.

"Spirits help me," Eunoe muttered as she peered at the tangled mess of wires and cabling with a sudden new appreciation for religion. She'd always found prayers at the local shrine to be tedious, and now she regretted the time spent daydreaming instead of paying attention. A bit of a spiritual edge would have been nice about now.

With the panel open, Eunoe could detect a muffled buzzing from deep inside, buried behind a large ball of multicolored wire.

"Is everything alright?" Ryouko asked. "Anything I can help with?"

"Uhh… try teleporting out this bundle of wires," said Eunoe. "Don't, uh, teleport straight back. Give it like five seconds."

Ryouko blinked, taking in what Eunoe had said.

"Got it," she said, stepping up to the bomb. There was no need for further explanations.

A moment later she was gone, and Eunoe found herself holding her breath.

Eunoe jumped as a single pebble bounced off the tailfins.

"Well, that seems to have worked," she said to herself, before looking inside again. The controller board was now clearly visible, its various indicator lights flashing unhappily at her. Then again, she'd just ripped out all the sensor cables, judging from the labeling on the ports that had been sheared, so the blinking red lights were to be expected.

What was most important was that the buzzing was now very loud. The power circuit was hidden behind a panel for safety, and the wide gauge wires coming out of the panel seemed to be fine. So of course the buzzing was coming from behind the panel.

Ryouko reappeared a moment later.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're still here," she said, her hair twitching slightly. "What was that I just removed?"

"Apparently they were wires to the bomb's sensors," Eunoe shrugged. She tapped the panel with her talon. "Can you remove this for me? Probably don't need to teleport, but some magically-enhanced finger strength can probably get it open faster than trying to force the screws out."

Ryouko leaned over, peering at it for a moment. She looked skeptical for a moment, then reached forward, hand almost touching the panel.

A moment later, with a slight creaking noise, the panel popped off. As far as Eunoe could tell, she never actually touched it.

"Telekinesis," Ryouko said, shrugging vaguely. "It's a really convenient thing to learn, so everyone can do at least a little. Not sure I want to rely on my magically enhanced nails here."

"Didn't know magical girls were vain," said Eunoe as she peered in with a flashlight. "Ah, hmm…"

"We're just like other girls," Ryouko said. "The only ones who are different are the older ones. Didn't you have a friend like that?"

"Sort of," said Eunoe as she squinted at the interior of the bomb. "More like she was obsessed with keeping them sharp. Used to complain about having to do manual labor, practiced hand-to-hand like a maniac."

Eunoe paused. "I wonder what happened to her. We sort of drifted apart after going to basic training."

"Huh," Ryouko said, unsure what to say. "Well, I guess some people are eccentric."

She paused, realizing that wasn't that exciting an answer.

"How, uh, is the bomb?"

"Well," hedged Eunoe. "I uh, I'm not sure. The good news is that the primary relay didn't fire. It looks like it's been crushed by the impact, so even though it's trying to close, it can't really contact the tabs. But, since the supercapacitor is such a high voltage, the current is jumping across the gaps. We're lucky, because the crimp is so high up the casing that the current can't just form a plasma bridge. So, I guess, it's probably good to pull the relays? Probably won't do anything bad?"

"What do you mean precisely, pull?" Ryouko asked, peering at the assembly skeptically. "You want me to pull it out?"

"I guess teleporting it would be best," Eunoe mused. "Your powers just slice the wires, right? I don't want to have the terminals touch by accident."

"Yes," Ryouko said.

"Just be careful then, alright?" Eunoe said, shifting aside carefully so Ryouko could move up.

"I will."

Ryouko stepped forward and stretched her hand forward for a long moment, the both of them tense. Then she vanished with the relays, and Eunoe stood frozen, half-expecting to be dead a moment later.

Nothing happened. Then, slowly, the icy glow of the eezo warhead dimmed to blackness.

Eunoe let out a breath as Ryouko returned in a flash of green.

"We're good?" Ryouko asked.

"Yeah, bomb's inactive," said Eunoe, glancing at the dull amber of her omnitools to confirm. "It's inert, or at least enough that we can take our time pulling it out. The only risk is the rubble collapsing on us now."

"Great…" Ryouko muttered, looking up again nervously. "Okay, then, come with me."

Eunoe pushed herself to her feet with a sigh, following Ryouko towards the far wall. What a day.

"Here," said Ryouko, pointing at a gap in the rubble. "Do you see her?"

Eunoe grimaced and pointed her flashlight at the gap. There wasn't much she could see, really, except for the outline of a small, human hand wedged between two pieces of concrete.

"That's pretty far in," said Eunoe.

"Like I said, I'd have to teleport the rubble as well as her," said Ryouko.

"What's her name?"

"Sammie, though I think that's short for 'Samantha'. There are two transponders next to her, her parents probably, but…"

Eunoe took a deep breath.

"Best get Sammie out first," she said. "She'll need medical treatment, right? We can drop a marker and come back for her parents."

Ryouko nodded, reaching out with her hands to grasp Eunoe and the rubble next to Sammie.

"Teleport in three, two, one."

They vanished in a flash of green.

Emma cradled her drink as she wandered through the formal declaration of the cessation of hostilities, trying her best to look like she had something to do. Not for the first time, she wished Ayane were here, or even Anna—she just wasn't good with these kinds of events, and it was easier with two people. It didn't help that the party was stocked with literal aliens, even if she liked some of them. But she was the only magical girl with experience of any kind in this sort of thing, and the vote had unanimously elected her to represent them at the diplomatic function.

Emma couldn't help but notice that both Nadya Antipova and Clarisse van Rossum had been conveniently absent from that particular conversation.

"You there! Ms. Sinclair!"

The summons took Emma by surprise, as did its source—Field Marshal Wolanski, who was apparently drinking with an alien her implants tentatively identified as Legate Septimus (estimate: 85% accuracy). The two had found a quiet table, off to the side, with only a slight amount of paranoid bodyguards lurking in the background.

"Uh, hello, sir?" she asked awkwardly, as she walked up to them.

"Come, sit," said Field Marshal Wolanski, pulling out a chair for her with a grand gesture.

"Thank you sir."

"You drink, yes?" he asked, producing a flask of something clear and pouring soundlessly into a small glass.

"Really, is it wise to be giving that to a juvenile?" Septimus asked, raising an eye-ridge…skeptically? Emma was surprised by how many facial expressions Turians shared with humans.

"We have implants to deal with it," Field Marshal Wolanski dismissed. "Anyway, I find it is always good to drink after combat. It helps you forget, and commemorates your fallen comrades—or makes you feel better about it, at least."

"Thank you," Emma said simply, accepting the glass even as she smoothly finished her other drink and set it down.

"You're probably wondering why I called you over here," Field Marshal Wolanski said.

Emma nodded.

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, I was telling the Legate here about human culture, and how even though we don't look like we fight very much, we pack a mean punch. Back in the Wars, there were civilians who went out with sticks and stones against drones and artillery, yes? We did not cower in our bunkers. What were you doing before this fighting started, Miss Sinclair?"

Field Marshal Wolanski knew the answer from the nomenclator of course, but Emma knew an invitation to explain out loud when she saw one.

"I was a field researcher for an investment firm," Emma said. "Visiting new markets, due diligence, that kind of thing."

She chose to avoid mentioning that she had never been very satisfied with that career.

"You see? Not martial at all," Wolanski said.

"Would that the Volus could fight like you," Septimus said, tone neutral. "If you'll pardon my asking, you were one of the new, ah, special girls, right? We never encountered too much in the way of civilian militia."

"That's correct," Emma said. "Naturally that was a, uh, secret before all this."

She took a sip of her drink to hide her discomfiture. Looking around the room, she finally spotted someone she knew—Eunoe, off in the distance, talking with one of the other alien types.

"And a very interesting secret it was," Wolanski said, watching her carefully over his own glass. "A lot of things about the old wars make sense now. I'm going to have to update some of my stories."

"We'll have to update our own civil defense policies," Septimus said. "We believe very much in having a ready civilian population, especially given some incidents in our past."

"Yes, apparently we should all be ready for an alien attack at any time," Wolanski said dryly, and this time the line felt sharp.

Emma stepped away from the conversation now that it no longer really involved her.

"Over here," someone said, translated voice lower and rough in that distinctive way she had come to associate with Turians.

"Oh, Eunoe," she said, more to herself than anyone else, as she made her way towards the gesturing alien. She hadn't yet learned to distinguish them well by voice, but she recognized Eunoe from what she now realized was a distinctive facial scar.

Emma tilted her head slightly when she got there, recognizing Eunoe's friend Adrea and… two other aliens she wasn't familiar with, one a blue Asari and the other one some kind of lizard-person who seemed deeply engrossed in its omnitool. A quick check revealed the Asari was also a magical girl, which wasn't terribly surprising.

Okay, going to have to do my best not to think of others as lizard-people, she noted to herself.

"Emma, this is Jaira T'Ari, she's the senior Asari diplomat assigned here," said Eunoe. "She was responsible for mediation efforts between our races."

"Nice to meet you," Emma said, unsure if she should offer to shake hands or what.

"Indeed," Jaira said, keeping her hands behind her back and making no other gesture. "Eunoe has been telling me about you, and the other humans she met."

"Met" seemed like an appropriate euphemism, so Emma just nodded.

"And it's nice to meet you. I have to say, I never thought I'd be shaking hands with any senior diplomats."

She paused a fraction of a second, realizing that she had referred to "shaking hands" in a nonsensical context.

"A human custom, I assume?" Jaira asked. "How does it work?"

"Er, it's essentially exactly what it sounds like," said Emma awkwardly. "It's said that it arose from traders trying to show peaceful intent back in ancient times."

"An interesting custom," said the lizard-person, glancing up from their screen. "Turians have a similar one."

"A salute isn't quite the same," Adrea said, sipping from her drink. "It comes from our tribal past and allegiance to a lord or emperor."

The lizard-person shrugged. "Still analogous. Thaleon, by the way. My species is Salarian."

Emma made a face that she really hoped was a smile. "Ah, pleasure to meet you. I hope you're not being distracted?"

"No, no, just some work I should have done earlier but procrastinated on," Thaleon said, tapping away again at something on his omnitool. "It's rude for me to be doing work at this event, but, well, you know how it is. Always busy."

"Salarians are, uh, known for being hard-working and restless," Jaira said, smiling broadly. "But not for being rude."

She elbowed Thaleon lightly.

"Oh alright," he said, closing his omnitool. "But I have a mountain of reports to file. We live short lives you know."

"So you never tire of reminding us," Jaira said.

Emma had an odd feeling. Wasn't Jaira a diplomat? Why was she bickering with the Salarian?

"I may as well give an introduction to us Salarians," Thaleon said, raising one arm in a—theatrical gesture? Was that what it was supposed to be?

"We Salarians are known for being scientists, scholars, artists, that kind of thing," Thaleon said. "And yes, spies. Personally, I work for the Special Tactics Group. I'm basically a special agent. I wouldn't normally admit as much, but it's a diplomatic function, and for once I'm supposed to be here. Even if the official invitation took a bit of wrangling."

"He's technically here as her partner, you know," Adrea said, nodding her head at Jaira and looking smug about something.

Emma blinked. "Romantically, you mean?"

"Yes."

"I… see," said Emma, sipping her drink slowly. "…how does that work, exactly?"

The collective blinked at her.

"What do you mean?" asked Adrea. "Mechanically, it's still tab A inserts into slot B, but—"

"Adrea!"

"I kid, I kid," Adrea laughed, dodging Eunoe's elbow. "But seriously, interspecies relationships are fairly common in Citadel space. I suppose we're all a little confused by your reaction."

"Oh, er, well, I suppose I'm just not used to it?" Emma said. She took another sip of her drink. "Does it— er, I mean, do you— or I guess can you have, er…"

"Ah, right, you've not learned about Asari biology," said Adrea. "It's a bit special. I won't bore you with a discussion of it, but consult the files you were given."

"Files?" Emma asked.

Jaira cast a sideways glance at no one in particular.

"Right, Thaleon, can you be a dear and go find out what the issue is with that, if she hasn't gotten any files?"

"Oh, you're doing this deliberately," Thaleon scoffed, rolling his eyes. "But alright, for you, I'll go find someone."

They watched as he walked off, holding a glass of alcohol dramatically in the air.

So Asari biology lesson, Jaira thought, leaning forward. We're actually asexual reproducers, but we need a partner to, you know, stimulate the process. They also contribute to the child, via influence on hormones and other mysterious stuff. Anyway, as a species we don't particularly care what species the romance is with, you see.

I see, Emma said, unsure what else she was supposed to say.

It makes it kind of odd when the other is a Salarian, though, Adrea thought. Asari naturally live to be around a thousand galactic years. Salarians barely forty. There's quite a rush sometimes to get it going, if you understand my drift.

I suppose, Emma thought, not sure why they were telling her this.

"Oh stop making fun of her, and me," Jaira said. "You act like you've known me for centuries."

Adrea shrugged vaguely. It occurred to Emma that they might very well have known each other for centuries.

"Speaking of that, Jaira, what are you planning to do once all this is over?"

"I'm not sure," said Jaira. "There's… a lot to go through."

She gave Adrea a meaningful glance that largely went unnoticed as Thaleon returned. The two of them had been magical girls for centuries now, and never before had they seriously considered what they would do with the Phoenix Foundation revealed. The organization had emergency plans, of course, plans that were even now underway, but there was no disguising how unnerving, how potentially cataclysmic, it would be for everyone involved.

Yet the MSY directly engaging with its own government showed that it was at least possible without disaster. Certainly, there was no getting around the fact that it would upend the entire social order. On the one hand, there was a lot of potential for positive exchange of ideas and history. There were a few ancient magical girls with over a millennium of memories that the Library of Thessia would want to speak to. On the other hand…

Well. The Krogan members of the Phoenix Foundation had been chafing at the bit for centuries to cure the genophage. Maybe not on a wide scale, not without a wish at least, but on an individual level, each magical girl was at least in principle capable of eradicating the genophage from herself and any partner she chose. The fact that there hadn't been more widespread dissension in the ranks was a testament to the strength of the bond between magical girls in the Phoenix Foundation. But the Krogans would learn the truth soon, and then…

It's hard to predict, Adrea murmured in Jaira's mind. Even the wisest cannot tell.

I know, but it's my job to try anyway, Jaira murmured back. Do you think we should?

I'm hopeful, Adrea sighed, sipping at her drink thoughtfully as the conversation drifted onwards. I've had enough of hiding myself away every few decades. It's high time to start living in the light of day.

Jaira smiled at herself and took a drink. Living in the light of day, huh? That would be nice.

Two armies stood across from each other in a field on Nazra Invictus. Between the two was a small strip of empty land, torn asunder by shot and shell, but for one small outcrop of stone which marked the furthest point any Turian had reached before being pushed back by the Human counteroffensive. A single long crack ran from one side to the other, the work of some projectile whose origin was now unknown.

There stood a rock on the fields of Nazra Invictus, the remnants of some geological past that only time now remembered. It was a rock that had been bitterly contested, its base stained with the blood of Human and Turian alike.

Around this rock a ring now stood, formed with the weapons of the fallen in the distant fields, hence to remain as a testament, until such time as a suitable replacement was found. It was a small thing, a simple thing, and the best that could be accomplished in the time available. But it was enough, and in truth, would the fallen have wished to be remembered any other way?

This had not been a true war. A scuffle, perhaps, or at worst a brawl, and officially it would be referred to in the history books as the Arcanorum Skirmish or simply as First Contact, depending on who was writing. Despite this, as in all such things, people had died.

In the Turian base, construction had begun. The latest diplomatic directives had ceded control of a small sector of the surface of Nazra Invictus to the Hierarchy, and the Hierarchy had no intention of letting that go to waste. As the planet's sun sank towards the horizon, Legate Septimus stood at the top of the command center, its hardened walls scarred by shot and shell and magic and spear. These would be patched, the holes filled with concrete and covered by alloy plate, but he couldn't help but wonder if other holes, torn open by the pain and horror of combat, could ever be patched. Turian custom was to begin military service at fifteen, but in this day and age few such children were thrown into pitched combat. There was no need, even if they were trained to do so. For the humans…

Septimus sighed and flicked his omnitool on. There was much to do.

Elsewhere, Clarisse van Rossum tapped steadily on the back of her chisel, carefully—ever so carefully—cutting into the top of the mountain. She rarely, if ever, wrote poetry, and the few pieces that she had made in her long years were nothing worth noting. She had watched great masters select their words before, their pens and brushes laying down characters whose origin she, to this day, could not divine. Perhaps with time, she would improve? And yet, to have lived these hundreds of years and still not have understood…

Well, it was her own fault. Her old master had always sighed and said that there was no helping the restless impatience that drove her forever onwards. Today here, tomorrow over there, like—

"—a caged bird, who feels the morning breeze and yet cannot reach it," Clarisse murmured to herself, smiling fondly at the memory. Too apt, Yoshino-sensei. If only you knew.

Alas that Clarisse had chosen to leave the country just before Yoshino-sensei had passed. So many stories, left untold…

Clarisse wiped the single tear from the characters she had carved into the mountain. That was the thing about people dying. Every person whose life was blotted out by the inkstain of war, struck out with the stroke of a pen, was another lost storybook, the pages burned and the ashes scattered upon the wind.

Fire blossomed in Clarisse's hand as she pulled a bowl of sand out of her pack and placed it in front of the headstone she had worked into the side of the mountain. A flick of her wrist brought sticks of incense to her hand, and another gesture set their tips alight.

"My Lady, who dwells in heaven, hallowed be the souls which pass up to you," Clarisse whispered. "I pray that they may find the guidance they need to rest in peace. May their stories find their place in your halls, so that they are not forgotten. I—"

"—pray—"

—for the Spirits which inhabit these lands, that they may forgive us for the destruction we have caused," Adrea intoned, pouring out a glass of Turian whiskey into the waters of the lake that had bounded the northern edge of the invasion, "and I pray that the dead will forgive us, for the pain we caused them in their passing. Let all who come here know that, under this sacred ground, the dead lie faithful to their orders, unto the ending of the world."

A young soldier laid a lit torch against the funeral pyre, lighting it as it was rolled into the water by the others. It was an old-fashioned custom, rarely invoked to great fanfare except for state funerals, and certainly not typical for a light skirmish like what had occurred here. But Adrea felt differently. She felt that meeting a new species, a spacefaring one especially, merited a proper burial for the dead.

Evidently, she wasn't alone.

An old Turian hymn rose up behind her as the gathered soldiers began to sing. They were few in number, compared to the army from which they came, but it was enough to give the dead some of the respect they deserved. Eunoe was in attendance, though she hadn't felt up to lighting the pyre herself. The pain was still too sharp for her.

The pyre drifted outwards onto the lake, the blaze growing ever brighter, until it was visible from where the magical girls of Nazra Invictus had gathered with their platoons to celebrate the end of hostilities with a second, less formal party than the diplomatic affair which had been arranged earlier.

"So that's a Turian funeral huh?" asked one of the soldiers, sipping from a beer. "Didn't know they was so dramatic about it."

"Supposed to be a whole religion they still follow," said Annalise Shepard, sipping at her own beer. "Or at least, some of them."

"Is that so?" asked the soldier. "Ach, sounds like right bollocks, it does, but whatever floats their boat."

The group of soldiers and three magical girls snorted into their drinks.

"That was a stupid pun, Jenkins," Emma said, punching the man in the arm.

"I liked it," Asami said.

"Ah, finally, a lassie with good taste," said Jenkins cheerfully. "And here I was thinking you were all like little Bluebird here, all serious and the like."

"Emma? Serious?" Ryouko asked wonderingly, as if being shown something amazing for the first time. "That happens?"

Emma reached out to flick her kouhai on the head as the platoon roared in laughter. The half-hearted attacked whiffed as Ryouko ducked, eyes sparkling mischievously. Emma made a huffing noise and drank her beer with pretend offense.

"I guess this is it then," said another soldier, stretching in her seat. "Fighting's over, time to go home?"

"Not likely," Annalise said dryly. "We'll probably be made to become the local garrison. No more adventures for us—just boring patrols."

The group groaned sarcastically.

"Say it ain't so, ma'am," one of the soldiers in the back called out. "You mean we have to sit in air conditioning all day?"

"Yeah, and not be forced inta hand-to-hand combat with alien animals nobody's ever seen before?" asked another. "Holy shit, how will we ever survive?"

"Yeah yeah, just don't get complacent," Annalise laughed. "Even if I like dropping into hot zones—"

"You're the only one, Sarge!"

"—shut up Lewis or I'll weld your armor shut the next time you're in it," Annalise mock-growled. "As I was saying, as long as you knuckleheads don't embarrass us at the next battalion combat readiness review, I'll be happy."

"What is going to happen now, though?" asked Ryouko. "So much has changed…"

"Well you lot are probably heading back to Earth," said Jenkins, gesturing vaguely at the magical girls. "Yer all from Mitakihara, yeah?"

"That's right," said Emma.

"You'll be able to see your families and loved ones," said Annalise to the magical girls. "That'll be good."

They nodded. For a moment, the world paused. Ryouko and Emma and Asami thought of the past days and what had happened. They thought of how they had changed, and how different they now must be. Would they really be able to go home, just like that?

But mostly they thought of the hole in their hearts where their innocence had been, and which could only be filled by an uncertain future.

Then a champagne cork whistled into Annalise's head and the moment ended. She turned to yell at someone for being stupid, prompting other members of the platoon to start hurling bottle caps and start a chaotic brawl that only soldiers into their cups could start. Wide-eyed, Ryouko grabbed Asami and Emma and teleported them to the top of a small building, safely out of harm's way.

"Jeez, look at them go," Emma said, watching in fascination as battle lines began to be drawn behind the folding tables. "That's amazing."

Ryouko shook her head. "I expected better. During the fighting, they…"

She trailed off.

"We'll get through it, you know," said Emma after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that we'll get through it," Emma repeated, shrugging. "It's hard, and there's so much that's different now, but we'll get through it. It's going to be okay, in the end. I mean, look around you."

Emma gestured at the setting sun. Asami pulled Ryouko into her, grasping Ryouko's hand tightly as they turned to follow Emma's hand.

"Look at the planet that we're on. Isn't it great that we can see it, even if it's a little scuffed up?" Emma folded her arms and smiled slightly, sadly, with a weight that she hadn't had before the fighting had started. But it was a smile. "I guess that's something I learned from all this: life's just going to pass by unless you stop and look at it. If you keep your head down all the time, you'll miss something beautiful."

Ryouko made a bitter noise. "And learning it this way was worth it?"

"No," said Emma truthfully, "it wasn't. But it's something, you know? And as long as we keep looking around us, at life and at everything that's wonderful about it, we'll be able to get through all this. We'll be able to keep going."

Ryouko considered. She had been feeling better, but she wasn't— it was too soon. There was still too much that she had to deal with. It was overwhelming sometimes, like being held underwater and not being able to use your magic to breath. Sometimes it was all she could do to keep from drowning. Asami helped, like a rope tied around her waist that kept pulling her back towards shore. If it weren't for Asami, Ryouko didn't know where she'd be by now.

Ryouko breathed in, then out.

"You're right," said Ryouko, squeezing Asami's hand.

"We will."