Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki Ly

Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity. Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep, Aria/FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.

43. The Justicar

"Samara" from Mass Effect 2

XLIII. The Justicar

(Miranda)

Reappearing in my bedroom like this, I adjusted to the sudden change in perspective. Shifting away from Insomnia's virtual reality to the actual reality of my apartment, I had to take a breather. Breathing just so, yet unable to physically shift—I felt the comfort of Shepard's weight on top of me. We both still had on our clothes from our date the night before—though my shirt was still off, leaving me in the black lace of my bra. Rather thrown as well, Shepard stared down at me. She did her best to not fixate too much. She swelled an even stronger comfort in me, deep within my spirit, simply from the energy of her gaze. That visceral need she had to know that I was all right. Emotionally and more. Pure protection I felt once she shifted her weight, enough to touch my face with her hand.

The heat of her skin warmed my own.

Breathing in the fresh scent of roses that had wafted up to my room, I tried to reassure Shepard that I was just fine. Touching her touch, the back of her hand, the ridges of her knuckles beneath her smooth complexion. I found her sunlit eyes lighting even more in the early morning rays. Lighting in worry, lighting in question, lighting in her vivid attractiveness. Swelling my heart to the size of the sun outside. But even as I did this, already I worked to push to the back of my mind certain memories from that game. Much like with these unknown prospects surrounding my sister, I couldn't bring myself to linger over this issue. I couldn't truly acknowledge how I felt about any of it.

I didn't even want to think about what had happened back there. I just couldn't.

Still focused on me, Shepard asked, "You okay?"

Unable to answer with words yet, I brought her face closer to mine.

Shepard took my gentle momentum and added her own. Brushing her lips against mine, she moved into me more, one movement at a time. This taste of hers forever layered over me as transcendent. As transcendent as she was tender and touching, touching me in the softest of ways, yet still decisive. Still showing the suggestiveness in her thoughts, mirroring over me now. Shepard wasn't at all shy in turning her tenderness into far more. She listened for my reactions as her permission, muting her own to focus on me again and again. I felt my hands moving on their own, needing her so much closer.

She only stopped when she realized she'd started gripping my hips, her hands against my bare skin.

Having her touch on me like this changed so much. I barely realized myself that I had taken off her shirt, leaving on the white of her sleeveless undershirt. Coming to my senses, I reinforced it all, running my hands down the soft cotton shaped over her back. These undulating grooves of texture beneath my fingertips held the deceptive strength of her muscles; the winged sharpness of her shoulder blades as she shifted, settling her light weight over her forearms straightened over the bed, at either side of me.

Barely, just barely, I saw a flicker of doubt flash through her eyes.

I ran my hands through her hair, setting it out the way. I found more of that doubt—she couldn't look at me. Not directly. So I tangled Shepard's hair, gathering this beautiful assortment of her shades of brown and blonde, holding it all along the back of her head. Her furrowed brow, I could see much more clearly with her edges pulled back and tautened just so. For as much as she wouldn't make eye contact with me, I felt my eyes drawn to her neck. The quickness of her pulse, hammering there, nearly knocking through her skin. And how her collar bone had started shuddering with her breaths, steadily unsteady.

Somehow still at peace, it was my turn to ask, "Shepard, are you all right?"

She wouldn't say the words. The obvious. Those emotions softened her eyes, melting her usual intensity to a more tender impression. Impressing upon me, Shepard only gave me this gentleness, mixed with such anxiety and apprehension. Her hesitations nearly boiled over—nearly forced her to look away from me—yet she made the effort to stay present. Present with her heart. Present with me.

Knowing that she'd made this choice to be vulnerable, I felt higher and higher than before.

Love for her deepening, I soothed, "Tell me what you're afraid of. Please. Tell me everything."

Shepard still wouldn't say it.

Surely she sensed and felt all that had deepened in me, deepening the depths of her dilemma.

That chasm, I overlooked as I looked up at her.

I let her hair cascade from my hands, shifting down to hold her shoulders now. This strength and control, I felt reflected in her hardened muscles, and even in the fine smoothness of her skin. Her biceps, the bends of her arms as she propped herself on top of me: I found Shepard's command over my body, immovable as she was. Stout and stoic and resplendent, Shepard pulled at me without physically pulling at all. She pushed at me without moving her hands from my bed. She owned me without saying a word.

I found in her emotional distance a marathon to run. And I immediately set off past the starting line.

Immediately, I reached my body up to kiss her. Hoping to encourage her. Hoping to have more from her this morning, as the sun continued to rise over us. As insulated as I was from those rays, sheltered within the curtained falls of Shepard's hair, she gave me more. Shadowing me beneath her, she leaned down just enough, pushing me back down—her lips over mine, into mine, within mine, letting me feel what she wanted me to feel, and nothing more. Only what she allowed. Only what she commanded.

Completely cerebral in her intentions, Shepard made herself clear.

As she did, my heart could have gone off in desperation, begging for more, begging for her attention.

Her attention as she lorded herself over me without lording at all. Lording only as any lord should have, expanding my scope of thought, my very imagination. I begged more while saying nothing, only sounding more for her attention—her attention she gave me as she wanted. Her attention she chose to curate, to remind me who was truly in charge between us. Her attention that I basked in and bathed in and breathed in as my single breather, breathing in this life from her again and again.

All just as she pulled away.

Shepard pulled away just enough—enough to leave me shaking beneath her. Shaking as she stared at me, studying. Finding my openness to her, exposed as I was. Cutting through me more with her purposeful distance, instrumental in her mind, using this instrument of her eyes to shape me as she desired. And I lay here before her, as the image of her imagination, imposed upon me so lovingly.

Imposed and imposing as she was, I felt how my regard of her had shifted. Changed.

Laser-focused. Loving, loving, loving. Yet still entirely relaxed. Leisurely in my spirit laboring for her.

"Are you hungry, Miranda?"

Light and languorous as my gaze, I managed to say, "Not at all."

"We have business to take care of today," she established.

"Yes, of course we do… But not until much later. Why do you sound as if you're going to head off?"

"If I do anything more to you, we won't leave this bed."

As high as I felt, I was this close to asking how that was a problem.

Shepard noticed, and raised her brow. Shaped, strong, slender. She could've taken me with that alone.

Yet I realized how inappropriate my timing was now.

Waking up somewhat, I told her, "Well, if you don't trust yourself, I'll just have to accept your judgment. I only wonder if you're using this as an excuse to run from me. Even after everything we talked about."

"I'm not running from you."

"Are you certain about that? Did something in Insomnia trigger this change?"

"More like the opposite. Before we take that next step, there's something I have to show you."

"Hmm, what do you mean?"

Shepard decided: "After we pick up Samara and Thane, we'll go back to San Diego. Unless the Council needs to speak with us before then. I have a feeling they will. I'm sure I'll get an email from Anderson sometime soon. Either way, this something is in my hometown. You'll see when we get there."

"If you insist…"

"You sound disappointed."

"Because I know you're going back to the ship at any moment now."

"I should," she justified. "Whenever Vasir sends you that intel on Samara, I need you to forward it to me ASAP. The same goes for Shiala's availability. Can I count on you?"

"Of course you can," I promised. "You already know that…"

"Miranda."

"I know. I know, Shepard. I know… You need to be prepared to lead us properly. You can't do that if you spend all morning fooling around with me. I understand. This isn't what I hoped for, that's all."

"Then what did you hope for, exactly?"

I nearly scoffed. "Do you really have to ask?"

Shepard shifted her eyes, at once annoyed and pleased by me. Annoyed with my attitude; pleased that I had deigned to be this honest with her. But there was another sort of pleasure mixed in there. Pleased as she was that her mind was her own. No matter what I had witnessed, and no matter what I could guess, her current thoughts would forever be unknown to me. That minor secrecy gave her comfort.

She then chose to compromise instead:

"Listen. I'll stay here with you for a little while longer. But after that, I have to get going. Is that okay?"

"Yes…that's fine," I conceded. "Thank you."

Shepard let herself rest over me. I held her close without stifling. As much as I could. Savoring her, savoring the sheen of her hair and the undulations of her back, her shoulders—I needed her so much.

Gentler this time, she asked again, "So what did you hope for?"

"…that you would be more emotional. Sensitive. Open. Even passionate. While you had sex with me."

"It's going to take some time, babe. I didn't realize this before. I'm sorry."

"I respect your choice, Shepard. There's no need for you to apologize."

I truly did accept her assessment.

But those words from her soured me with regret.

I wished I'd had the courage to approach Shepard sooner.

Maybe by now we could have been somewhat even. Balanced. Measured.

Maybe she wouldn't have still been playing catch-up with my obsessive devotion for her.

---

The rest of the morning, I spent lying in bed. Alone, still down to my bra. Fantasizing. Smelling the vestiges of Shepard's cologne that had filled my sheets, my pillows. Missing her terribly, terribly so.

I'd already put in my designated time off with the Illusive Man. No work assigned to me; nothing to occupy my time with. At least until the mission later, which I presumed we would get to sometime this evening. For a long while, I considered speaking with my boss. Perhaps sending him an email for some sort of clarification. After this time had passed, I began questioning the source of our strife. Surely I wanted things between us to go back to normal. I wanted us to have our working relationship again—the same one that had sustained us both for nearly two decades now. Even as I should have continued questioning his motives, I instead gave him the benefit of the doubt. Predictably so, as he knew I would.

I couldn't bring myself to reconsider the past. My own judgments. The extent to which I trusted the Illusive Man to be upfront with me. Maybe this was all a simple misunderstanding…

Or that was what I wanted to believe.

As the sun continued to rise outside my windows, I'd shifted my mind to other topics. Since calling Shepard was out of the question, I thought about my sister. Our ridiculous 'encounter' at the mall yesterday continued to linger, worrying me. She'd obviously known about me for quite some time already. Whatever traps Shepard had fallen into with Oriana's mischievous wiles, she hadn't necessarily given away some big secret. Then again, if my sister really was as smart as I was, I shouldn't have been surprised. She had every reason to know who I was in that case. Why hadn't she contacted me, then?

I resisted the urge to monitor my sister through the usual surveillance.

Even as I avoided these hard topics with the Illusive Man, I couldn't do the same with Oriana.

Perhaps as a reward for my choices, I received two conveniently-timed emails.

Opening my omni-tool, I felt relieved to have these confirmations:

From: Shiala – Re: Meeting up on Illium.

Miranda,

I apologize for the continued delays. Thankfully, I have good news this time.

Tomorrow, I will at last be available to meet with you and the commander. I have looked over the materials you forwarded to me on the Reapers and indoctrination. Your discoveries mirror my own. I hope that I will be able to provide additional insight. Commander Shepard's role against the Reapers will no doubt be critical to our very survival. I would be happy to confirm that you are in fact her protector.

Please let me know if and when you would like us to speak tomorrow. Your patience is appreciated.

-Shiala

.

From: Vasir, Tela – Re: Justicar Samara.

Lawson,

Here's that update I promised you. A little ahead of schedule. And for good reason. You and Commander Shepard will want to be prepared for this.

To start off, some background: a not-insignificant number of Illium's indentured servants have gone missing within the past few months. Sadly, no one seems to care. Because the story's gone under the radar, I hadn't been able to make much headway. I believe the same ardat-yakshi suspect from the other night is to blame for this. She's taking advantage of the fact that no one cares, preying on these servants for her own amusement. Every single time I've managed to locate a victim, the cause of death is the same. Severe brain hemorrhages. Overpowered nervous systems. You can assume the rest.

I was able to pinpoint a location for the suspect's lair. The latest victim was lured there last night. Fortunately, the victim called for help in time. She was able to get away safely and make a report to us.

Unfortunately, it looks like the ardat-yakshi slipped away. A few Eclipse sisters smuggled her off-world. The good news is, she left a great deal of evidence behind in her room. The bad news is, the Eclipse mercs are keeping a close watch on this room, blocking off everyone's access, including the police. You'll have to find a way inside, locate any possible clues on her current location, and get out before causing too much trouble. If I go with you, the mercs might catch on to your plans. So I'll have to sit this one out. It would be nice if you could find some way to get the police inside the building. If not, I'm sure you and the commander will handle this as necessary.

Samara will be at the suspect's lair tonight, looking for information. It's an "underground" club called Deep Azure, right in the middle of Eclipse territory. Sex, BDSM, exhibitionism. Not exactly family-friendly. They open at 8:00pm. The justicar will be there on time. She'll know to expect you and your team.

I'll meet you in-person tomorrow to help with the drell assassin. I doubt you'll need me to come along with you. But, I'll at least make sure you reach the Dantius Towers unharmed.

-Vasir

.

After re-reading the emails a few times, I forwarded them to Shepard directly.

I could have called her, of course. Or sent her a few messages in our chat room, providing the information that way. I chose not to take the risk. Even after Shepard promptly responded to me, giving her thanks—I felt my heart pounding, raw and real. I continued resisting these temptations. I continued putting her first. Needing to be patient, needing to accept these changes: we couldn't rush this. I couldn't push her into moving any faster with me. I realized now it had been naïve of me, assuming that Shepard would be completely tender and vulnerable. At least this soon. Later, yes, certainly. In due time.

Shepard chose not to run away. Now she merely stood in place before me, holding her emotions in.

I supposed that was a start.

Finding my own optimism, pointed and pragmatic, I turned to other distractions. I sent Jack a private message, asking if she still wanted to see me. She was rather quick to respond, saying she wished to meet up at Eternity. We hadn't interacted at all, the last time we were there, so this seemed the best way to make up for that. We agreed to meet there in a few hours once they opened for the day.

By the time those hours did pass, and by the time I put my Cerberus uniform back on, this time had afforded me few favors.

I continued resisting these powerful urges—to contact Shepard despite her obvious wish for distance; to make sure that we were all right. We, us, together. Pressing on my mind as I made my way to Eternity, our relationship stayed at the forefront. I didn't at all see this as Shepard leaving me alone. But the circumstances of her change of heart had me slipping into something. Worries and worries and worries nearly brought me down. The mission was supposed to come first. My personal feelings came too close to compromising that.

This balancing act proved more difficult than I'd expected.

I arrived to Eternity a bit earlier than Jack had requested. At this time of day, the music and ambiance took up more space than the actual people around. I could relax a bit without anyone staring at me.

Sitting alone at one of the couches, facing a window, I couldn't humor the idea of having a drink. I instead spent the time sending an announcement to the team, letting them know of recent developments, and to expect a briefing sometime this evening. But as soon as I hit send, I felt my feelings about to catch up to me. My truest longings to have Shepard here with me. The closest I could get to this was tabbing over to our private chat room.

Again, I contemplated sending her a message. At least to check up on her.

Surprising me in a wonderful way, heart fluttering with joy—Shepard was already ahead of me:

[15:36:02] Shepard: Babe.

[15:36:07] Me: Yes?

[15:36:22] Shepard: You good?

[15:36:31] Me: I'm quite all right. What about you?

[15:36:55] Shepard: I'm fine. Just wanted to check up on you.

[15:37:12] Me: Really, Shepard? Is that all you wanted from me?

[15:37:30] Shepard: I think you know the answer to that.

[15:37:45] Me: I'm afraid I don't. Care to enlighten me?

[15:38:20] Shepard: Where are you right now?

[15:38:56] Me: I'm at Eternity, waiting for Jack to show up. She's supposed to meet me here. I suspect Zaeed will also make an appearance. You didn't answer my question.

[15:40:11] Shepard: I want to know why Jack's interested in being your friend.

[15:40:59] Me: I'll allow this extra sidestep of yours, then. I believe Jack has many reasons. She's nosey about our business together, you and I. Maybe she also sees something valuable in the perspective I offer. I don't think her motives are entirely innocent. But I'm not worried about her. She is who she is.

[15:41:13] Shepard: That makes sense.

[15:41:23] Me: It sounds as if you don't trust her.

[15:41:50] Shepard: It's hard for me to trust anyone other than you.

[15:42:44] Me: Are you not interested in building trust with the team? No matter what happened with Tali, I thought you at least trusted her. Perhaps Garrus and Kaidan as well, since they've been around for so long. Joker included.

[15:43:22] Shepard: Tali did something to lose my trust.

[15:44:00] Me: What did she do?

[15:45:02] Shepard: She poked her nose where it didn't belong. In my personal space. Way beyond my personal space, actually. I think you know exactly what I mean.

[15:45:36] Me: Yes…I do.

[15:45:59] Shepard: Is that how the Illusive Man got to you? Did he bring this up?

[15:48:01] Shepard: Miranda, answer me.

[15:48:20] Me: I'm sorry. Yes. He showed me proof.

[15:48:47] Shepard: Send it to me.

[15:49:32] Me: I will. I promise you, I will. Before I do that, I have to know. What we saw in that game last night—did something in there trigger your anger? This is such a drastic change from before.

[15:50:03] Shepard: Maybe so. But that isn't the real issue.

[15:50:22] Me: Then what is the real issue? What's truly bothering you? Please, tell me.

[15:51:20] Shepard: When we first met. While we were on the shuttle to Freedom's Progress. You said something to me. Something important. I remembered your words this morning, while I was on top of you in bed. And I realized they might not have been true.

[15:51:40] Me: What do you mean…? What did I say?

[15:51:58] Shepard: You said you couldn't lie to me. That you were incapable of doing it.

[15:52:06] Me: Shepard, wait a moment.

[15:52:20] Shepard: Lying by omission still counts.

[15:52:34] Me: Shepard, please, we shouldn't do this over text.

[15:53:42] Shepard: Miranda, I set that shit aside before. I moved past it. I asked you to be with me. Maybe something in Insomnia triggered this. If it did, it doesn't matter. I can't just let this go.

[15:54:20] Me: You're entitled to feel this way. I'm not trying to argue against that. I want to know everything. I want to know what's running through your mind. Even if your words end up hurting me.

[15:55:05] Shepard: I don't want to hurt you.

[15:56:37] Me: And I don't want you to worry about that. Isn't it more important for us to be honest? We promised each other before that we would. I gave you my word. I went back on what I told you. I'm sorry for that. I didn't realize it would still be a problem—not after we talked about it the other day. We don't have enough trust built up. Not for sex; not for anything outside of the mission. I understand that now.

[15:57:02] Shepard: That's not the only problem here.

[15:57:20] Me: What's the rest of it? I have to know.

[15:58:12] Shepard: The way the Illusive Man influenced you. No one should have enough power to do that. No one except me. Especially not him, or your father. Not anyone. I won't tolerate it.

[15:58:45] Me: Understood. You're perfectly clear.

[15:59:13] Shepard: Why are you going along with this? Why aren't you fighting against me?

[15:59:36] Me: Your sense of justice is sound. I'd never fight against that.

[16:00:12] Shepard: That can't be the only reason.

[16:00:27] Me: You own me. I belong to you. I am your property. I need to be worthy of you.

[16:00:58] Shepard: Are you just saying that to placate me?

[16:01:10] Me: Absolutely not. I mean every word of it.

[16:01:20] Shepard: I believe you.

[16:01:35] Me: Do you, really?

[16:02:02] Shepard: You're too smart to lie about this.

[16:02:50] Me: Even so, I want to make amends for what I've done. I'll send you the proof from the Illusive Man straightaway. We should speak after that. In-person. Are you back on the Normandy?

[16:04:02] Shepard: I'm in my cabin. I thought you planned on spending time with Jack. Maybe Zaeed.

[16:04:23] Me: They're irrelevant right now. I have to see you. Immediately. Please, Shepard.

[16:05:04] Shepard: Fine. Send over what you have.

[16:05:17] Me: Sending it now. I'm on my way.

I forwarded those chat logs to Shepard without delay.

Not long after I hit send, I saw the change at the bottom of the message. She'd opened and read the email within seconds. And now time began ticking down. I needed to go to her. Right this second.

Yet as soon as I stood up, I ran into a roadblock.

Blocking my way—I nearly bumped into Zaeed, who almost stumbled back against Jack behind him.

"Jesus Christ, Lawson!" blurted Zaeed. "Where're you rushing off all of a sudden? What's going on?!"

Jack pressed me, "Seriously, what's up with you? You're acting like someone fucking died!"

I didn't owe them a real explanation. "Don't be ridiculous. Something urgent just came up. I have to go."

Pushing past them, I hurried out of Eternity. I knew Jack and Zaeed watched me go, reeling in my wake, yet they were wise enough not to follow after me. Alone I rushed back down to Nos Astra's trading floor. Knowing I'd attracted more stares and attention, I weaved my way through the crowds of haggling customers and dubious dealers. Singularly focused on this task, on moving this quickly in my heels—I forced myself to move as fast as I could. Quickly, faster, back to the docks where the Normandy awaited.

Where Shepard awaited me, soon to render her judgment. Whatever she decided, I was prepared to accept the outcome. Proudly. I needed to take responsibility for my mistakes.

Nothing was off the table in my submission to her will.

---

Arriving to the Normandy, I realized the embarrassing reason behind my speed.

Confusing, arousing—Shepard's clear authority had me wet. This spread between my legs beneath my uniform…I'd felt it so many times before. Never quite like this. The tightness of it all made the sensation unforgettable. Inescapable. As tight as I was; as welcoming and inviting and needing as I was, waiting for her and waiting for her to take me. That closeness from her felt as the surest reward for my efforts. My efforts in working on our relationship; my efforts in being worthy of her; my efforts in not making any further mistakes that could have cost us everything.

Time wasn't enough.

I had to put in the work. I had to be dutiful about this. We both did.

This taste, this tenseness, this taut strife felt as an odd release. A reminder of where and when I was. A reinforcement that the two of us were in fact in a relationship, in the middle of a proper argument, yet with no real threat of breaking up. No matter how this seemed, I trusted Shepard to work with me through anything. That trust continued to propel me faster, quickening my long strides down the bridge.

Delayed, I caught wind of Joker sitting alone at the helm. He'd appeared caught up in his thoughts—until I'd burst my way through the airlock. Snapping back to reality, he hurried to hobble out of his seat.

Alarmed, Joker called after me, "Hey, Miranda, where's the fire?!"

That was not a helpful metaphor right now.

Ignoring him, I made my way through the empty CIC, and over to the elevator.

I requested permission to go up to the captain's quarters.

Immediately afterward, the elevator shifted with Shepard's authorization, taking me up one level.

Hands sweating beneath my gloves, I waited this forever-short-forever time. The machinery of the elevator. The slight chill from the ship's internal cooling systems, marking this heat that kept spreading between me. All of it spelled out this waiting, waiting, waiting—until the ride stopped accordingly.

Leaving the elevator, I crossed the short distance to Shepard's door.

Unlocked already. That green light greeted me in such an unexpected welcome.

Even if I wanted to knock—just to be polite—it would have been a waste.

As I walked toward the door, it opened automatically. Automatically, categorically, I passed through to this familiar novelty of Shepard's room. I had been in here before. Setting up the painstaking details everywhere. Recreating the layout from her quarters aboard the SR-1, accurately so. Stocking her mini-refrigerator with her water and wines. Ensuring that she had this calm, quiet space to call home.

Brimming with an ambient comfort, the blue of Shepard's fish tank lit my path. The blacklight from elsewhere in the room dimmed my perception. Lowering my guard more, lowering my ego far more so, I kept my head down. Even still, I found Shepard within my periphery. Standing just down the short flight of steps between her fish tank and desk. Right next to this half of her couch, leather running parallel along the lowered wall. Standing there, rightly still; watching and waiting as I approached her.

Shepard allowed some space between her stature and the low couch.

If I continued to stand, I wasn't sure if my balance would hold me.

Mouth and throat parched, I asked, "May I sit?"

Measured, collected—Shepard gestured to the couch.

Sitting down beneath her, facing her bed along the opposite wall: I felt the full shame of these circumstances. The first time she allowed me into her room, and it was for this. I didn't enjoy the occasion, and I didn't enjoy the associations. But I needed to face her, at least this much. Running away was never an option.

"Miranda," stated Shepard, nearly melting me. "I'm not trying to be a jackass with this. We need to have a real discussion. What we talked about before—it wasn't enough. This has to be more thorough."

"I agree," I said, unsticking my throat. "We should discuss everything. Whatever's necessary."

As Shepard prepared to lead our talk, I thought I knew how this would go.

I assumed she would ask me about the chat logs. About how the Illusive Man had acquired them. About how foolish I had been to let him manipulate me in the first place. And how I should've told her sooner.

Instead, Shepard gave me the shock of my life—"There's a reason why I trusted EDI enough to unshackle her."

Waves of understanding washed over me, flooding.

Holding myself around my waist, I almost doubled over from where I sat.

She answered so many of my questions with only a few words.

Kneeling down now, level with my bending body, Shepard asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all… This is your ship. Your operation. You're entitled to everything and everyone aboard."

"You don't seem surprised."

Sighing, I admitted, "Well, I suspected something. You're unusually clairvoyant. This explains why."

Shepard noticed, "You're making exceptions for me. Sounds like a double-standard, isn't it?"

"You're allowed to do as you please. Especially after the mistakes I've made. I'm the one at fault here."

"Your mistakes aren't the end of the world."

Hearing that from her assuaged me…somewhat.

I'd spent my entire life believing my every mistake was a sin. Heinous. Heretical.

And now here was Shepard, smoothing her warm hand along my face. Trying to get me out of hiding.

"Babe, listen," she soothed. "More than anyone, you understand where I'm coming from with this. I've kept my own secrets from you. I'm sorry for that. I was a hypocrite for almost losing my temper earlier. I think…we both need to let go of those bad habits. Those instincts we have. Never really trusting anyone. Going at it alone. For survival. You don't need to survive from me. The same is true on my end with you."

"I know," I accepted. "I know… I'm setting all that aside. It's only gotten in the way of things. I can't help but wonder—how you knew. How did you verify Tali's knowledge without the logs? She didn't tell you."

Shepard chose to be frank with me: "Tali let a few things slip here and there. Nothing major. Nothing that made me suspect anything concrete. Now that I think about it, she gave it away not that long ago. When I went to visit her home on the Flotilla. Like I said, we didn't have sex. I kissed her. That's all."

I remembered the sight of Tali's unmasked face, staring back at me through that mirror in Insomnia.

If they'd had sex, then her entire body would have been visible instead. Unhidden by her enviro-suit.

Oddly enough, having this confirmation bothered me not at all. I felt…relieved, actually.

Relieved that another woman could know Shepard's mind this intimately, yet hold no sway over her.

Leaning into her touch some more, I asked, "Does she know that you're aware?"

"No, I didn't mention it. I really shouldn't. It doesn't matter anymore. That ship has long-since sailed."

"I'm glad you told me," I shared. "The discussion we had before wasn't quite like this. Even though I was determined to face you, I still felt terrified. I remember what happened the last time someone lied to you. I was petrified of making a similar mistake. But you've made exceptions for me as well. Why?"

"Babe, you know why…"

"I need you to say the words."

"I don't know how anymore."

Those specific words should have broken me.

Partly because I was the same. Just—not anymore. For the first time.

Until I fell for her, I'd had no understanding of what this feeling was. This sacrifice. This commitment.

Not a simple emotion, but continuous actions. Over and over again, despite everything and anything.

Those actions, and that feeling, Shepard gave to me through example. She guided me to move with her, lying down over her as she lay on the couch. Considerate as always, she had a snug blanket here already—violet, for me—covering our bodies with it. Resting this way, I kept my head over her chest, listening. Listening to Shepard breathe. Calming herself. Containing herself. Configuring her reactions and her emotions to suit the moment, not in a forced way, but as that continuous sacrifice…for me.

Shepard's heartbeat beneath my ear may as well have been my own.

As she stroked my back up to my shoulders, and down again, she eased the surprise from her next observation—"Why did you take down those picture frames from your wall? In your apartment."

There was no hiding from her.

"I didn't want you to think I was obsessed with you…"

No malice at all as she pointed out the obvious: "But you are."

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Miranda, you don't have to run away from this. We both have some more growing to do. Growing away from our pasts, and into our present and future together. That means unlearning old habits. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I'm only asking for one thing. Don't ever look me in my face and lie."

"I understand, Shepard… Really, I do. I'm happy that you've chosen this path with me. That you've made these choices for us, our relationship. Do you honestly think it's possible for the two of us to change?"

"We are who we are. People don't change."

That unexpected bluntness nearly stymied me.

I questioned her, "Then why do you seem so optimistic about us?"

"Because I'm not asking you to change who you are. Only your choices with me. Nothing else."

"You truly don't believe anyone is capable of changing for the better?"

Nonchalant, Shepard claimed, "They just get better at hiding who they are when it's convenient."

I shifted to look at her properly, finding cynicism and optimism blended as all-gold in her eyes. Drilling her point home, I received an ill-timed alert to my omni-tool. Another email from someone. Someone who had used a new email address to reach me this time.

Knowing, tranquil, Shepard asked, "Who's it from?"

"…you already know the answer to that."

"Open it, then. See what he has to say. And then I want you to think carefully about what I said today."

Wary of her advice, I read this message with a heavy heart:

From: Lawson, Henry – Your sister.

Miranda,

I heard about your run-in with Oriana yesterday. Reports say you and Commander Shepard were humorously caught off-guard. Had you responded to my last email instead of blocking me, I would have warned you about her.

Your sister knows about you. She's incredibly social media-savvy. Eternally plugged-in to the extranet. There are a number of stories out there about you and your ties to Cerberus, though nothing of substance. I've also worked behind-the-scenes to catch and kill any particularly salacious stories about your previous private business. The remaining information is only public knowledge, but Oriana has consumed it all. She's as smart and clever as you are. You really shouldn't have been surprised.

I wish you would let us speak, you and I. I've made too many mistakes over the years. Losing you was my worst one. Though I suppose it wasn't a mistake when you took Oriana from me. I know why you did it; I can no longer fault you for your decision. Your sister appears to be living a normal, happy life. The kind of life I couldn't give her, if your upbringing is any indication. So, should the mood strike you, I would appreciate if you returned this message. And if you don't, then I will just have to keep trying.

-Your father

Even though he refused to apologize directly, I had to concede some effort on his part. He certainly sounded more…sincere. If that was possible, for him. But that was all I allowed myself to recognize.

Shepard had already made herself clear.

She refused to tolerate my possible tolerance of my father. She saw exactly how naïve I could be.

Nevertheless, he would keep trying until I responded to him.

I worried that he would rope my sister into this. As leverage. Or perhaps he wouldn't.

That was too obvious, after all.

Surely, my father would find some other way to get my attention.

Between him and the Illusive Man, I feared what I'd gotten myself into with these men. These two, powerful men who were determined to maintain some hold over me. To varying degrees. I had no idea how to proceed, and so I set the issue aside. Whenever this reached a boiling point, I would need to lean on Shepard's wisdom for guidance. Because I couldn't do this alone. She knew this, and I felt her determination to shelter me, here and now—until this colossal problem became too much to ignore.

---

Presumably, Shepard had been productive during our hours apart earlier that day. Because she allowed me to stay with her until the briefing. We remained in her room, in the same position, in the same place of healing and growing closer, as we both needed. She continued to baby me the whole time: comforting me, and feeding me, and ensuring I had plenty of water to drink before the mission. Even with her dulled cynicism blanketing her thoughts. Yet I couldn't mind that at all.

At the appropriate time, I went down to the comm room on my own. Continuing this tradition of the two of us arriving at staggered times. Shepard's goodbye kiss stayed fresh on my lips and on my mind; I made my way down the elevator, renewed and reinvigorated. As much as I could have been, what with everything that remained on the horizon. I could focus on the mission, anyway. That was what mattered most now.

I entered to the mild bustle of the comm room. Ignoring everyone's conversations—dimmed now that I was here—I took my place near the head of the table. Across from me, Legion gave me an entirely muted stare, unemotional as it always was, and should have been. I wouldn't look anywhere near it, instead keeping my stare fixed on a corner of the room. Even as I kept my arms folded, in this clear desire to be left alone, I felt too many other eyes on me. In particular, Jack frowned at me in a disapproving sort of worry. Zaeed did the same. I still wouldn't look at them, either. My affairs were none of their business.

Elsewhere at the table, Garrus, Kaidan, and Mordin were most careful to not look my way. Their efforts were far too obvious. Clearly, Zaeed and Jack—and perhaps Joker as well—had gossiped about my rush to get back to the Normandy earlier. Kasumi seemed intrigued, a curious smirk shadowed beneath her hood, polite as she was to not stare straight at me. EDI was the same, smiling in a more casual sense.

Tali remained unreadable. I felt jealous of her relative anonymity behind her mask. And I felt her own envy wafting toward me—for obvious reasons—even as she refused to look my way. Whatever the case, she seemed determined to disappear into herself right about now.

I did find this whole dynamic intriguing.

Everyone's mood was completely dependent on mine; on Shepard's; on our harmony, together.

She and I both knew we would be just fine.

The others could continue wondering on their own.

As the culmination of their wondering, they all quieted down once the door opened.

Soundless in her all-black stealth suit, Shepard entered the comm room. Indecipherable as always, the team could only look on as she crossed the area. Taking her spot at the head of the table, she made the point of only making eye contact with me. I warmed my gaze, thawing this ice for her and her alone. Shepard did the same for me. This one thing moderated the temperature among the team, their worries and curiosities sated enough—for the time being, anyway. I knew they would continue to gossip later.

So long as they kept their salacious stories out of the main chat room, the rest didn't matter to me.

Equally as unconcerned about the team's social life, Shepard began the briefing:

"Shore leave's over for the time being. We're picking up our newest recruit tonight. She's a powerful asari justicar named Samara. In case you're unfamiliar, justicars are warriors, part of an ancient order with a strict honor code. They typically don't leave asari space. Samara's chasing after a dangerous fugitive who was last seen on Illium. We're going to help Samara find clues about this fugitive's next location. After that, she should be willing to join our fight against the Collectors.

"Samara will be at the fugitive's last known location: a particular club guarded by Eclipse. The mercs won't let us in with our weapons. And I don't plan on using force to help Samara with her objective. We have to remember that a number of civilians will be at this club. We can't go in guns blazing. We need to be subtle about this. In the event the mercs do put up a fight, I need people who can fight without weapons. That's the shortlist for who I'd like to come along. But only if you're comfortable going."

Kaidan raised his hand, asking, "What do you mean, if we're comfortable? It's just a normal club, right?"

Garrus chimed in, "Is it like Chora's Den or something? Reminds me of our earliest days back on the Citadel, running and gunning against Saren's agents. Pretty nostalgic."

Shepard paused.

I folded my arms tighter, wondering how she would explain this to the team. They appeared to know very little about Illium's sex entertainment industry—just how vast and sprawling it was.

They would learn soon enough.

After a short while, Shepard came right out and said it:

"It's a BDSM club. Deep Azure. People will be having sex and playing with each other. Out in the open."

Kaidan's entire face paled considerably.

Zaeed let out the most absurd bunch of coughs, masking his sudden, uncomfortable laughter.

Jack smirked with a sadistic glee, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

Garrus made his best attempt at dissolving into the nearest wall.

Even Legion shifted its head flaps in a clear sign of alarm. Whatever that entailed for a synthetic.

Mordin tried to contain his amusement and intrigue, though he wasn't successful. Kasumi certainly gave him a run for his money, as amused as she always was, about all things. EDI rounded the trio of them.

Aside from me, Tali was the only one to give no reaction whatsoever. No visible reaction, anyway.

Shepard was wise enough to note, "Judging by your reactions, we have our volunteers who fit the criteria. Miranda, Jack—you ready to go?"

Jack made a victory fist. "Hell yes!"

Already knowing how this would go, I remained neutral for the mission. "Affirmative."

"Samara will be at the club waiting for us. We'll meet up with her; find out what she knows. Then, I'll find a way to sneak through the club and get what we need. The two of you and Samara will remain on standby. If the mercs cause any problems, you have permission to deal with them. We'll get out as soon as I find those clues about the fugitive's next location. Again, we're not bringing any weapons. That includes sidearms. So let's skip the armory and head out."

As we left the Normandy together, Shepard remained consistent with me. Even after our argument earlier, and even with Jack's persistent staring, she still made sure to hold my hand. Nightfall had also brought out Nos Astra's truest colors, sprawling with a sophisticated, festive sort of mood. The three of us passed through that mood, passing by a number of passers-by, each on their way to whatever parties were on that evening.

As I had never been to this part of Nos Astra, I allowed Shepard to lead the way to our destination. In this area of the city, that teeming sense of partying and jubilation reached a fever pitch. A red light district in its own right, this place had just about every type of club or bar around. Everything became less vanilla as we went along—the crowds of asari and humans progressively had on more leather, more belts and buckles, and more fishnet clothing, as those more obvious signs of this lifestyle. I half-expected to witness some form of public exhibition—here outside the club—but no one had taken the chance.

Deep Azure itself looked exactly as I'd imagined. Rising higher in the sky than Aria's Afterlife club, this tower of deep blue glimmered just right in the moonlight. With so many other clubs around, their music and sound systems all competed for attention, each as a joined cacophony of booms and beats at their own rhythms. As we approached Deep Azure in particular, this hard texture of industrial, synthy rock stood out much more. That hardness closed around us as we took our place in line.

By the time Shepard, Jack and I were due to enter past the Eclipse bouncers, someone had started a scene. Some loitering volus had begun ranting at the bouncers for no apparent reason, his pressure suit's inhalation sounds puncturing every handful of his words. Annoyed, Shepard and I waited for this nonsense to resolve itself, while Jack simply looked on in enjoyment. The bouncers tried unsuccessfully to shoo the volus off, growing more irritated. So this nonsense went on and on.

While trying to walk around, the volus bumped into Shepard's legs, barely reaching her knee as he did. Staggering and bouncing backward, he nearly fell over, like a turtle rolling over on its shell. The people in line behind us began to laugh. Shepard glared at the volus, clearly wishing he would get lost. But he refused to go.

"I am a biotic god!" cried the volus, his pitiful biotics glowing around his limbs. "I think things—and they happen! Fear me, lesser creatures, for I am biotics made flesh!"

Shepard warned, "I don't know what drugs you're on, but stay back and I won't punt you out of here."

The volus fired back, "You will regret your scandalous words! I am a great wind that will sweep before me, like a…great wind. A great biotic wind!" God, I couldn't believe this. "Yes, the asari injecting so many drugs into me was terrifying. But then I began to smell my greatness! They may laugh when I fall over, but they don't know what I know in my head—that I know that I am amazingly powerful. Fear me!"

Jack shrugged, almost feeling sorry for him.

Unamused, Shepard merely told the volus, "Good luck with…everything."

"Wait, Earth-clan!" said the addict. "You're just in time to witness my crowning achievement! The leader of the mercenaries is in this club. I shall toss Wasea about like a ragdoll!"

I interjected, "Shepard, having this incapacitated volus running around could compromise us."

Jack quipped, "Fifteen credits says the little guy doesn't get five steps in before the merc explodes him."

The lunatic went on and on—"I will tear her apart! My biotics are unstoppable!"

"Charge," droned Shepard, gesturing for him to run off already.

"An ill wind blows upon Wasea, Captain of the Eclipse sisters! After me!"

He was about to attempt hobbling inside the club, as his way of forcing himself through—to charge.

But then, the club's manager—an asari civilian—hurried outside.

Sensing the tension brewing in the air, she said forcefully, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

While the manager wrangled verbally with the volus, the Eclipse bouncers allowed us to go inside.

I'd had enough of that ridiculous volus to last a lifetime.

As modern and upscale as Deep Azure was—much like the rest of Illium's buildings—I noticed a stark difference. The club's patrons paraded around this open area, the place exuding a more indie, underground type of grit. The all-black walls thudded with the beat of the bass, with several sex toys and kink equipment hanging along that black in display: whips and floggers, spare collars, paddle boards, gag bits, blindfolds and more. Partying hard, no-holds-barred: the humans and asari mingled and laughed and danced in this mezzanine. The handful of people standing around had gravitated toward the St. Andrews Crosses parked along the walls, those black symbols standing out in form and function.

Shepard had us go downstairs, where the grit of the club truly was, the music somehow booming louder.

Out in these spaces, a number of couples and threesomes and more had spread out into their respective areas. Consensual sex acts on display, the dominants led their submissives through play. The bare blues and violets of asari skin, and the ranging tones of human complexions caught my gaze—covered as many were with varying amounts of leather, or lace, or biotic bondage wrapping around their bodies. Simple fucking with other eyes casually watching them; light impact play with bare hands, paddle boards, or floggers; to brat tamers handling their bratty subs, doling out easy punishments at this early hour of the night. I even spotted a few coloring stations around, with littles and a few middles indulging in their coloring books, generally removed from the more 'adult' partying in the background. Nothing too extreme at all. And everyone remained easygoing with one another, clearly enjoying themselves. As I was quite used to these things, they all looked perfectly normal to me.

Posted along the walls as security—a fair distance away—more Eclipse mercenaries observed the area. A series of private rooms lined the far wall, with hallways winding down well past my view. The Eclipse mercs focused their patrols in that location. I presumed one of those rooms belonged to Samara's fugitive, as her coveted lair, likely filled with the clues we needed.

Even as they watched the partying and partners playing, the mercs seemed on-edge. Like they expected something to go wrong at any moment. Or that something already had gone horribly wrong.

On instinct, Shepard held my hand tighter. Protective as always.

I began to worry that we wouldn't simply find Samara waiting around for us.

Jack wondered out loud, "Sure are a lot of mercs here. Think they get off to this?"

Shepard shrugged. "It's possible."

"Hey, Shepard, you're pretty comfortable. Made the team's reactions during the briefing even funnier. I swear Alenko was about to shit his pants. Did you really think more of them were gonna come along?"

"I expected it would just be you with us."

"What, you didn't figure I'd be a giant prude?"

"Jack, you're anything but a prude," said Shepard, humoring her, much to my surprise. "You fit right in."

"Maybe," conceded Jack. "I guess. Not like I've actually been to a place like this before. Might've crashed a few house parties with sex going on out in the open. But these kinda clubs? Nah, not my scene."

"Why not? If you don't mind me asking."

"Think it's the whole trust thing you have… I'm used to fucking faceless strangers. Or people I plan on killing later anyway. I'd never trust anyone for something like this, let alone just having sex wherever. Like, yeah, I've had some threesomes with guys and girls in my day. That's as far as it goes with me."

"In your day?"

"You know what I mean!" argued Jack. "Anyway… About this justicar we're picking up. Samara. Remember when you recruited me, Shepard? You said I'd be the second strongest on the team, at least with raw power. Is Samara gonna be the strongest one now? Pretty sure she's the one you meant."

Shepard reconsidered that. "She's supposed to be. From time to time, Aria will also join us as a guest. At least when we're fighting the Collectors. I'm betting those two will be our 'strongest' team members."

"Oh, yeah, Aria. Looks like I might be third, then. No idea if she could beat this justicar, though. Isn't Samara a matriarch? She's like a thousand years old or something, right?"

Still searching for Samara, I felt Shepard's instincts prickling at more possibilities.

I assumed she shared my worries, if she hadn't already done so before.

"Perhaps," I supplied. "We assume her age is somewhere around there. Her maturity will reflect this."

"Sounds wild," said Jack. "A thousand-year-old asari superhero's gonna join the team. I'm guessing she's seen a lot of stuff. No tolerance for bullshit. That sorta thing."

"I have to agree with you."

As we passed by an unguarded room, I could've sworn I heard some commotion coming from inside.

Out of an abundance of caution, Shepard cloaked before opening the door.

Jack and I remained at the ready by her side, following the faint glimmer of her transparent form.

We entered to what should have been a large, private lounge for anyone to have sex in. Yet as soon as the door closed, someone sent an Eclipse merc flying our way. The yellow and white of her armor flew right by us. She collided against the wall, her misshapen body crumpling to the floor with her shotgun.

A number of other mercenaries lay strewn elsewhere, their corpses long-crushed by biotic force.

On the other side, up on a raised platform, an injured Eclipse sister backed away from someone:

Someone obscured from my view, but whose self-possessed, dignified aura had already found me.

"Those were my best troops," fretted the lieutenant, backing away more; fearful in trembling.

As she moved, another silhouette reached my sight, glowing a faint biotic blue. Pacing toward the merc, her heels lengthened her elegant stride. Tight red and black of her uniform rose up her tall form, lined with a certain gold that caught my eye. That gold continued to rise, matching with the beauty of her neckpiece from her jaw down to her collarbone. The strength and sharpness of her jawline held the striking uniqueness of her face. Ethereal blue of her eyes: emotionless, focused; prepared, determined; intimidating without meaning. And jewel-like reds formed over her forehead as a segmented crown.

This mystic warrior held herself well, handling the confrontation perfectly on her own.

Raised above all, she spoke with such a low, clear voice—imperious without ego. "Tell me what I need to know, and I will be gone from here." She circled around the merc, eyeing her target. With her words remained the threat of death, when this Eclipse merc decided not to comply. "Where did you send her?"

"You'd think I betray her?! She would hurt me in ways you can't imagine…"

"The name of the ship. Your life hangs on the answer, Lieutenant."

More terror welled in the merc's eyes—"You can kill me, but one of us will take you down, Justicar!"

As this lieutenant brandished her gun—in some frail attempt to project strength—the justicar reacted:

Aiming her biotic-powered grip at the lieutenant, she immobilized her from a distance. Lifting with such ease and strength, the justicar tossed the merc aside. Furniture destroyed, the lieutenant flew well across the room, landing battered and broken on the other side. Her weapon too far out of reach, she had no other recourse. Yet still she held on in stubbornness. The justicar jumped from that raised platform, hovering down, biotics glowing, lifting, lowering her in grace. In complete control, she landed before the Eclipse mercenary, who tried to scramble away. All she did was delay the inevitable.

Seeing where this was going now, Shepard uncloaked. She continued to observe in a stoic intrigue.

Samara stamped her heeled boot over the lieutenant's neck.

She stopped just short of killing, clamping that flesh between her tall heel and the slope of her shoe. In that stopping, the merc gripped at Samara's ankle. No leverage, not enough strength left to fight—she could only look up in fright as Samara stared down at her. The merc had nothing left, except defiance.

Angling her long, svelte leg as a final warning, Samara inquired, "What was the name of the ship she left on?"

The lieutenant choked beneath her weight. "Go to hell."

Grief and sorrow flashed through Samara's eyes—before she dissolved all back to her honor, her determination.

"Find peace in the embrace of the goddess."

Shifting her shoulders in-place, Samara snaked her momentum down her body. She twisted her heel with a significant force unseen. Just enough, she snapped the Eclipse sister's neck, ending her in that single motion. Samara stared down at that corpse, lingering in the moment, the aftermath. While the booming of the club's music blasted on beyond this room, she considered the weight of her actions.

Jack raised her brows in approval. "She can get it."

I nearly throttled her. "Jack…"

"What?"

Ignoring Jack's antics, Shepard stepped forward first.

Samara moved away from her slain victim, making direct eye contact with the three of us, one at a time.

"My name is Samara. I am a servant of the Justicar Code. The Council Spectre, Tela Vasir, mentioned you would find me here. She did not say you would be unarmed. I find this unusual. Especially for you, Commander. I have heard the legends of your skill as a sniper. Are your companions also biotic users?"

"Yes, they are," replied Shepard. "We didn't want to scare the civilians. Risking a fight with all these Eclipse sisters isn't the best idea, either. We'll have to get by without guns for this mission."

"That is wise."

Still, Shepard had a bone to pick: "That merc was wounded and helpless. Every dead body in here brings us closer to alerting the guards outside. Do you just kill anyone who won't help you?"

"If my cause is important enough, yes," stated Samara. "Are you different?"

"I've killed enemies—even someone who meant everything to me—but always with good reason."

Pausing for but a moment, Samara found that past choice in Shepard's eyes. "I answer to a code that is clearly defined. If my actions are true to that code, I am just. If they are not, I am unjust. I don't pretend it is a simple matter, or that it seems right to everyone. But I sleep well at night, and that is more than most can say. Though I understand the consequences. It is very possible I will alert the other sisters."

"So aside from your Code, why'd you jump the gun like this? I know Vasir said we'd help you out."

"I apologize, Commander," entreated Samara, bowing. "Whether I attempted to wait for you or not, we would have arrived at the same outcome. The Eclipse mercs found my demeanor suspicious; they brought me here in an attempt to intimidate me. It did not go well for them. I am now concerned that my mission may not be successful. The mercenaries are strengthening their defenses inside the building. They will make it increasingly difficult for us to find the clues I need. I may lose track of my quarry."

"That's what we're here for, Samara. I can take care of that. I just need you to follow my lead. Outside of this operation, I'm up against suicidal odds, and I need the best. That includes you. Let me help you find those clues. After we're done here, I want you to join our team. We're taking down the Collectors."

"I sense the truth in what you say, and it humbles me. The Eclipse sisters smuggled my quarry off-world. I must find the name of the ship she left on before the trail goes cold. Her old room is heavily guarded, but it no doubt contains the information I require. I can then resume my investigation, and track this fugitive down at a later time. I will gladly accept your assistance in exchange for joining your mission."

"Good," said Shepard, pulling up her omni-tool. "I have the schematics for this club. Do you know which room the fugitive was in?"

Samara used her own omni-tool to transfer the location data.

As she did, Shepard's radar tracked the target room—suddenly surrounded by a mountain of enemy signatures. Far too many for us to take on in a straight fight. Even with our combined biotic strength.

"That is my dilemma," noted Samara.

Shepard mapped out a path. "We've handled this kind of problem before. Getting around won't be an issue. The mercs actually don't have security cameras in this place. Probably so they can respect everyone's privacy. I'll sneak my way inside, get the information, and then get out. The simplest route is through the vents. I'll have to go through the women's restroom. Shouldn't take me too long."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

Samara agreed, "As you say, Commander."

"Definitely," added Jack. "What about us? Should we…wait here?"

"Not here," ordered Shepard. "The mercs could decide to check this room. They'll start a scene. I need the three of you to go hang out in the club. Remain on standby. Don't attract attention. Act natural."

---

Acting natural wasn't as simple as Shepard made it sound.

Between Samara's eerie sense of calm, my perpetual worrying over Shepard being on her own while unarmed, and Jack turning into a chatterbox, I had no idea how this mission would go. I settled on ordering a glass of water, using it to distract myself—somewhat—as the three of us found a place to sit. Taking the chance with an open, crowded lounge, we sat together on a leather couch. Facing away from the playing and festivities seemed like the best idea. The music was loud enough to drown out the noise.

Jack and Samara conversed while I listened on, sipping my water.

"So, Samara," prodded Jack. "That Code of yours seems pretty strict. What's up with that?"

"It may seem so to you, but this is my oath. The expedient path may be fast and simple; that does not make it the right path. Otherwise, I may have attempted to battle every Eclipse sister on my own."

"Yeah? There's nothing in your Code that says you can't be here? You're not like a blue nun, are you?"

"There is nothing in the Code that forbids me from being in a place such as this. We are individuals who have forsworn family, children, and worldly possessions aside from some weapons and armor. We travel asari space righting wrongs, as defined by the ancient sutras we have each memorized. I understand that Illium is outside of asari space. Yet my quarry fled here, murdering many indentured servants and other innocent victims. I am sworn to hunt her down, and I will follow anywhere she goes. If I suffer for it, I will accept that."

Jack wasn't convinced. "You sure justicars aren't just nuns who can fight?"

I rolled my eyes. "Jack, the title you're thinking of is a warrior monk. Not a nun, for God's sake."

Samara supplied, "The other close equivalents for your species would be a knight-errant, or samurai."

"They all sound badass to me," said Jack. "You're always on the trail, then? With your investigation."

"It is my life's work to find and kill this fugitive."

"No shit? You don't ever stop and mess around? Like going to a bar, or someplace like this. Get wasted; get laid. Hell, you're like a thousand years old. Don't you have a kid or two by now?"

Anyone else would have bristled, or snapped back. So many probing questions.

Composed as always, Samara pointed out, "You are an inquisitive one, Jack."

"I mean, obviously. What else are we supposed to do? Watch those people fucking on the other side?"

"Perhaps you could learn from Miranda. There is nothing wrong with silence between friends."

Getting the hint loud and clear, Jack reclined in her seat, choosing that golden silence.

This didn't last long, however.

Lying down at my side, Jack poked my shoulder.

"Hey, Princess," she bothered, making me roll my eyes again. "What was up with you earlier? You know, back at Eternity. You rushed off as soon as I got there with Zaeed. I thought we were supposed to chill together? We're kinda doing that now. Not exactly what I had in mind! I guess it's good enough."

"You should tell me why Zaeed was there in the first place. You said nothing about him joining us."

Jack grumbled. "Look, it's not my fault, okay? He's been following me everywhere!"

"Following you?" I questioned, not liking the sound of that at all. Samara's attention also sharpened.

"Not in a creepy old guy kinda way!" insisted Jack, sensing my thinking. "There's something up with him, though. Like when we went to that straight bar I told you about, I basically told him to fuck off. I was done being his lame ass wingman. Then he got all depressed and weird. Zaeed tried to play it off with sarcasm like he always does, but I saw right through his bullshit. He only stopped once I said I needed to get some VR training in for the night. So then I brought him with me to see you 'cause I felt bad."

"Jack, your description of these events still appalls me. I'm not comfortable with the way he's behaving. He's well over twice your age; and he's clearly dominating your time with little regard for your personal space or boundaries. I can't allow this to continue. Has he ever expressed a romantic interest in you?"

"What?!" blurted Jack. "No! The only thing he's ever talked about loving is some shitty old rifle of his!"

I puzzled, "Zaeed is in love…with a rifle?"

"I don't know, maybe? It's some gun he calls Jessie. He's always telling me stories about it. You know how guys like him love going on about the good old days? His missions with that gun were like that."

"Interesting."

"Look, Miranda, it's cute that you care… He's seriously not like that. Yeah, he's a pain in the ass, and he never leaves me alone, like you said. It's getting on my nerves. I wasn't sure what to do, 'cause I know he's sad or something, deep down. I'm not the person he can lean on for that kinda shit. He gets that. I just think he sees someone in me from his past. If I ask him, he's gonna get attached. I can't handle it."

"Then let me handle this. I'm going to have a talk with him soon. His behavior with you is inappropriate."

"Okay, Mom," chided Jack. But then she lowered her guard, mumbling out, "Thanks…"

Turning to look at her properly, I gave Jack a look, showing her that I did care. Genuinely.

She scoffed and folded her arms, glancing away from me. Yet I knew she understood. That was enough.

I felt Samara's quiet approval.

Shepard finally contacted us via radio: "Miranda. Are Jack and Samara still with you?"

"Yes, Commander," I answered. "We're here. I've already added Samara to our team's frequency."

Samara asked, "Do you have any updates, Commander? Were you successful in your pursuit?"

"I have the name of the ship. Your…ardat-yakshi fugitive left here yesterday on the AML Demeter."

"Shepard, you impress me. You fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I will fulfill mine. I am prepared to join your team immediately."

"How's this supposed to work, exactly? You're sworn to follow a code that dictates your decisions. But I'm running a military operation."

"You wonder if I will refuse to follow orders because of my code?"

Shepard asserted, "I can't allow that to happen."

Samara informed her: "By agreeing to follow you, I am compelled to swear the most difficult of justicar oaths—the Third Oath of Subsumation. After I do, your orders will override the Code. You should know, however, that I'll still give my opinion if the situation warrants. Before we leave this place, I must first be sworn to your service."

"You mean we have to do this now?"

"Yes, Commander. It is of the utmost importance."

"Understood. I'll make my way back to you. Sit tight. And be careful. The mercs are still on high alert."

"We're not going anywhere," I said, longing to see her again soon. "We'll wait for you."

"Copy that."

As Shepard ended the communication, Jack sat back up, noticing—"Hey, you see those mercs over there? Looks like they're shutting the party down. I got a bad feeling about this."

Brandishing their weapons at the civilians, those Eclipse sisters threatened the club-goers to stop everything. Frightening, terrorizing, the mercs held half-dressed and undressed people at gun-point, barking questions at them about their motives. Those screams of terror from the civilians rose above the music playing on.

"Shepard's not gonna like this," said Jack. "The mercs are blaming the civilians for their dead people."

"There's nothing we can do right now," I cautioned. "We have our orders. Stay here." Looking to Samara, I was surprised she hadn't moved. "Do you plan on taking matters into your own hands?"

Samara remained still. "I do not," she replied. "Though I have not yet sworn my oath to Commander Shepard, it is my decision to wait for her. I will then act accordingly once the oath is satisfied."

I couldn't imagine having to restrain her. "Good to know."

We waited a few more terror-filled moments before Shepard found us.

Well-aware of the scenes going on elsewhere, she made sure that I was all right first.

She then stated, "I hope you know what you're doing, Samara. Getting out of here will be a nightmare."

"I must be sworn to your service, so that I am never forced to choose between your orders and the Code."

Uneasy, Shepard watched as Samara's eyes glowed as pure white light. Closing her eyes, Samara then knelt down before our commander, head bent and one hand on the floor. Jack and I both stood up on a sudden reflex. Shepard merely stared down at her, listening to this sworn oath of fealty:

"By the Code, I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices; your morals are my morals. As Miranda is your second-in-command, her will is an extension of yours. As the woman you revere above all, she is also my charge. In the event you cannot reach your loved one, it is my utmost duty to protect and serve her. I will lay down my life as necessary—as you both require. Your wishes are my code."

In awe, Shepard took in the meaning of those words, capped off with Samara's entire being glowing a biotic blue.

I honestly hadn't expected her oath to include me at all…

Jack commented, "Never thought I'd see anything like that before. You justicars sure are something."

Standing anew, Samara warned, "If you make me do anything extremely dishonorable, I may need to kill you when I am released from my oath. However, I have studied your actions and your morals a great deal, Commander. I remain confident that we will not run into any such issues. You are a paragon of ruthless excellence. The balance you maintain is impeccable. I do not imagine this will ever change."

Wary of the ongoing chaos in the background, Shepard still expressed, "Thank you, Samara."

"Truly, the life of a justicar can get lonely. I admit, I am looking forward to serving with a company of honorable heroes. Shall we return to your ship when this is over?"

"Whenever this is over, yeah…"

Armored boots pounding upon the ground, heavy artillery clicking with their movements—a large group of Eclipse mercs rushed over in our direction. They aimed their guns straight at us.

"Hands in the air, now! Do it or we'll shoot!"

Shepard simply said, "Samara."

"Commander," she acknowledged.

Just before the mercs fired their weapons, Samara protected us. Extending her arms, she produced a potent biotic bubble, keeping us safe within. Those gunshots did little to breach her defenses. As the mercs found their weapons ineffective, they stopped, gaping at us—at a loss for words. They'd assumed we were mere civilians, only to be proven wrong.

Now was the perfect time to strike back.

Gesturing her head in the mercs' direction, Shepard added, "Jack."

"You got it!"

Permission to go on a rampage: Jack sent out a forceful shockwave, sending the Eclipse mercs flying in all directions. She then charged forward, knocking away any strays around. Giving her all, Jack held nothing back, taunting the mercs and laughing at their screams of agony. In her sadistic delight, I knew she was at risk of tiring herself out, as always. She'd certainly made some progress since Horizon, yet the possibility remained regardless.

Samara sensed the same. She looked to Shepard, and then to me. Shepard gave her the go-ahead to help Jack out. But Samara wanted to make sure everything would be all right. I nodded to her, knowing what this meant. Taking my confidence to heart, Samara dropped her barrier and rushed ahead. Her Reave attacks blasted straight through the Eclipse sisters' reinforcements. Personal barriers boosted, Samara had free reign to continue for as long as necessary. Jack was strategic enough to combo her powers with Samara's, detonating several biotic explosions in a row. Those blasts ripped across the club, seismic shaking keeping the mercs in control. Jack's vicious calls of, "I will destroy you!" let me know her stamina would hold. I trusted that the two of them could handle things just fine over there.

Staying at Shepard's side, I stared up at her in worry.

No sniper rifle, no sidearm, and such weak shields compared to mine, to Jack's, to Samara's.

She had no business being here. Not in the middle of this firefight with no end in sight.

"Shepard, you should leave," I stressed. "Activate your cloak and escape. This is non-negotiable."

"Miranda, I'm not leaving my team. I can't abandon you."

"Do you really have the luxury of deciding that? With everything going on right behind us?"

"There's always a choice. I won't leave your side."

"God forbid something happens to you again… Why would you take the risk?"

More reinforcements arrived. They pushed past Jack and Samara's flank. Grabbing Shepard and forcing her to get down, I shielded her in my hold. Those bullets battered against my back. Unending. Determination blistering, I forced my shields to compensate. They held, as I held Shepard in my arms, even as she grunted over her apparent cowardice, unable to do anything except kneel here with me.

"Damnit, Shepard, you're too vulnerable! You need to get out of here, now!"

Cradled in my hold, and still refusing to go, Shepard instead fiddled with her omni-tool.

The onslaught against my back stopped after a time—Jack charged into the crowd while Samara cleaned up the rest.

While Shepard kept on with her omni-tool, sending a few alerts out, the worst was already on its way.

Heavily-armored, powerful kinetic barriers glowing, the leader of the Eclipse sisters showed up. Captain Wasea, the same asari that lunatic volus had been ranting about earlier. With her arrival, the carnage everywhere stopped. The other sisters stopped terrorizing the civilians. The other mercs halted their attacks against Samara and Jack, watching their leader. In turn, our teammates also paused, taking Wasea in—waiting for her next move. Watching as she approached Shepard and me.

Those bold, orange markings over her face hardly obscured her rage.

We had clearly disrupted her business here, and she wasn't at all happy about it.

"Everything's gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off-world. First a justicar shows up, and now you're with her. If I was in a better mood, I'd take pleasure in turning your heads into a pulpy mass. But you've pissed me off with this shit you pulled in my club. So here's what we're going to do."

With one gesture from her, the Eclipse sisters responded in-kind.

They brandished their guns at each of the civilians. Panicked screams, trembling—those defenseless people cowered upon the ground. Any attempts they made to reach out to their friends or loved ones nearby, the mercs cut short. Stomping on extended hands and arms, or shoving weapons harder against crying faces, the civilians were at their mercy. As spread out as everyone was, Jack and Samara could do nothing except remain still. Any sudden moves from our teammates would provoke terrible carnage.

Captain Wasea snarled at us, "Surrender yourselves. If you don't, you know what's next. That'll be their blood on your hands. Every last one of them! I'm not fucking around."

We had our implicit orders to protect the civilians.

Shepard wouldn't allow any harm to come to them.

Even still, I didn't sense her immediate wishes for us to stand down.

"Shepard…?"

"Miranda, just hold on."

Wasea sharpened her tone. "This isn't a game! It's time to do as I say, otherwise—"

Bursting through, a score of armed police officers showed up, storming the area with guns drawn.

The foremost leader among them looked to the mercs, and then to our team, deeming all of us a threat.

Exactly as Shepard had planned…despite the clear inconvenience of getting mixed up in this.

"You're all under arrest!"

---

Brought to the nearest police station, and stuck in the sterile white of a holding cell, this mission hadn't at all gone as I'd expected.

Our team was together, at least. And we had hope on the way. We simply had to wait until they arrived.

The police had been kind enough to send the civilians home. No one had been injured too terribly, though none of them would want to return to Deep Azure any time soon. With Captain Wasea locked up, it seemed unlikely that the club's operations would continue. Their competition would take over.

I was grateful to Shepard for her planning and foresight.

But sitting in a jail cell with her wasn't my idea of a good time.

Lounging not too far away from us, Jack appeared perfectly at-ease. Seeing as this was nothing new for her, I supposed I couldn't fault her calm and comfort. Lying over her back, she had her ankle over one knee, with her interlaced hands supporting the back of her head. Her baggy pants shifted with her slight movements, the leather of her vest acting as a decent-enough cushion over the hard floor.

Samara also seemed at peace, meditating in a nearby corner. Legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed, she hadn't moved an inch since we arrived here. I envied her mood-management skills right about now.

Shepard sat against my back behind me. We supported each other like this, with her back as my wall and mine as hers. I let her hold my hand, anyway. Languorous, lazy, we kept our gloved hands on the floor next to us. This loving ease about her reached me, calming somewhat.

The occasional stroke of her thumb over mine reminded me to breathe; to set my irritation aside.

If only we could've had a moment like this outside of jail.

Still lounging in place, Jack spoke aloud, "Hey, Samara. You were pretty good back there. I've got a lot to learn from you. Think I could ever beat you in a straight-up fight?"

Dimming her meditation, Samara responded, "You are stronger than many asari I have faced. Some of whom were hundreds of years old. I must admit some surprise, as I have never encountered a human biotic as powerful as you are. Your raw capabilities are quite remarkable for one so young."

"So, is that a yes? I could actually win against you?"

"You would…almost be a worthy foe."

"Almost?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"While your strength is great indeed, the same cannot be said of your control. Had the police not arrived when they did, I suspect your stamina would have soon run out. Such a weakness is exploitable. In battle, I would merely have to hold out until you became tired. You would no longer be a threat."

"Damn, Shepard said the same thing! She's not even a biotic and she saw it. What a pain in the ass…"

Samara counseled, "Fortunately, this is a flaw you can correct. I believe you are making an effort."

"Yeah, I'm working on it. Hitting the VR training every day. Changed my diet. That kinda stuff."

"Much more work needs to be done."

Jack groaned. "Well thanks for rubbing it in my face, Samara!"

I shifted the subject: "We're lucky we got out of there when we did. Even if it was…unconventional."

Shepard justified, "I had to call the police. It was the only way to help the civilians in time."

"I agree with your decision. I just wish there was some other way we could've resolved things."

Samara said, "I also feel this was the honorable choice to make. I am already proud to serve you, Commander. Had it been my decision alone, the Code would have dictated that I kill anyone in my way in order to escape. Including innocents. Such a tragedy would have weighed heavily on my conscience."

Shepard wished to know, "So, your Code lets you skip the whole due-process?"

"Such legalities are immaterial. It is no different than your broad authority as a Council Spectre."

"Point taken."

That specific authority helped us escape this place at last.

Once the guards let us out of this holding cell, we were allowed back out to the main floor of the station.

Waiting for us was Vasir, with a rather bemused look on her face.

"Shepard. Lawson. Bailing you and your team out of jail was not on my to-do list tonight."

"Vasir," I said. "I apologize for taking up your time. Trust me, this wasn't on our agenda for the evening."

"Oh, I believe you," she replied. "After everything's said and done, let's just call it even between us."

"Agreed… Thank you."

One of the detectives nearby told us, "You're free to go. But if I ever catch you doing something like this in my district again, don't expect to get off so easy. That includes you, Justicar."

Samara bowed to her. "Understood, Detective."

As we all left the station, Vasir went on her way, with promises to meet up again tomorrow. She also gave me a reminder, to expect another email about the drell assassin, Thane Krios. I could only hope that his recruitment mission wouldn't be as eventful as Samara's had been.

We returned to the Normandy. I'd already made the announcement to the rest of the team, asking them to make their way to the comm room for a debriefing. Given the late hour, I expected some of them to be tired and distracted. But they showed up anyway, doing their best to stay alert for Shepard's sake. They seemed eager, as well, to meet this justicar that had taken us so long to recruit.

As soon as Samara walked in the room with us, the energy about the team changed. Yes, they fell silent as always, yet there was something more. I felt their sense of awe, taking in Samara's natural majesty, as emotionally-removed as she was from everything. They watched as she remained by my side, as I allowed Samara to stay near the head of the table with me. Tali in particular had a specific sort of amazement. Even from here, I could see how the brights of her eyes widened beneath her mask, nearly child-like.

Samara noticed as well, and gave her a mild smile.

Tali returned that smile with a gentle one of her own.

I did find it curious that Zaeed refused to look Samara's way at all.

As Shepard led the debriefing, everyone was shocked to learn of all that had happened. While they had their answers for why we'd taken so long to return, I spotted their own personal relief. Relief, indeed, that they hadn't come along after all, evading the possibility of winding up in jail.

Shepard then introduced Samara to the team.

"Everyone, this is Samara. As you know, she's a justicar. I've seen her biotic powers at work. They're substantial. She has her own investigation going separate from the mission. But she's made it clear that the Collectors will also be a priority."

"Of course," said Samara. "My quarry is dangerous indeed. She is a true predator who grows stronger with each kill. Based on her crimes here on Illium, it is clear she has grown bored, and is seeking out more challenging targets. I must continue my search into her current whereabouts. However, in the meantime, I will devote all efforts to aiding you in your fight against the Collectors. As promised."

Shepard offered her hand, officially. "Welcome to the team, Samara."

Samara shook her hand in a grateful grace. "Thank you, Commander. It is a privilege to serve you."

"With your skills, I think you'll be an excellent addition to our team."

"That is high praise indeed. I will be prepared for whatever we encounter."

I asked her, "Well, Samara, do you have any preferences for where you'd like to stay on the ship?"

Not a hint of irony: "A room that looks out on the great empty void would be most comforting."

"In that case, we can offer you the starboard observation room on deck three."

"Thank you, Miranda," accepted Samara. "Once our business is finished here, I must continue meditating on the day's events."

As she said that, I realized just how much this long, busy day had weighed on me.

I felt myself about to shut down…but I didn't want to do that. Not when I had Shepard to lean on.

I still wasn't sure how to go about any of this. Was I supposed to ask? Or was she too tired as well?

Would she expect us to simply go to our respective rooms after this? Regardless of our reconciliation earlier, did it mean anything? Was she upset with me? Had we taken a step back in our relationship?

I didn't know.

I didn't know.

Not knowing made my worrying worse and worse.

Shepard concluded the meeting: "We have one other potential recruit here on Illium. Thane Krios, the drell assassin. We're expecting to get some information on him soon. We'll meet again tomorrow to go over our next plan of action. Get some rest until then. You're dismissed."

As everyone else left the room, I remained rooted in place.

Garrus, EDI, Legion, Zaeed, Jack, Samara, Tali, Mordin, Kasumi, and Kaidan had all departed by now.

Only Shepard and I were still here.

And I was reminded, then, that she hadn't left earlier. Before. At Deep Azure. When I'd told her to run. When I'd ordered her to abandon me. When I'd insisted that she save herself and leave, not thinking about what that would mean for me. Not quite remembering that she could have cloaked with me and left. I wasn't sure why that fact had slipped my mind. Maybe the day had already gotten to me by then…

Shepard held my hand. Supportive and strong, exactly as I needed right now.

She led me outside the comm room. Around to the elevator. We went up, back to her private cabin.

As soon as we made it to her calm, quiet space, Shepard gave me the rest of what I needed.

She pulled me into her arms. Cradling me this way, she returned the favor from our time at the club, and then some. Hiding my emotions along the warmth of her neck, her breathing—Shepard brought me back to this critical state. She took the initiative. Shepard reiterated with her strength, her protectiveness that we hadn't lost trust. Not at all. If anything, we'd truly moved forward together.

"It's going to be okay, Miranda."

Hearing her say that as well, whispering over the roots of my hair—she heated me, heating these stresses and concerns away. Stresses and concerns about my father, about the Illusive Man, or something somehow happening to Oriana, about the rest of the mission: everything dissolved for this moment. She stabilized me. Everything about me. Everything beyond this room ceased to matter.

"Everything will be all right. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Absolute relief passed over me.

Even more relief chilled me, soothed me, as Shepard brought us to her bed. Chilling and soothing as the crispness of her sheets, welcoming me for the first time. Taking this time, holding me here, Shepard truly kept her promises. She returned me to the security I needed with her. She pulled me into this blanket, this refuge, this certainty I'd had with her just yesterday, bolstering all even more. And even though she'd forgotten how to say the words to me, she shared them in this way, in her own way:

Devoted as she was to this justice of protecting me, in her safe, stoic silence.